The Mom Ache

I want to be a mom. I ache for it. I so badly want to hear a voice, any voice, call out “MOM!” and it be for me. 

Since I am a 30 year-old, single woman, you would think I would be longing for a husband, but honestly, I’m not. I think the idea of having someone to come home to is nice, but I don’t ache for someone to call me “Baby” and to hold my hand…well, I don’t ache for that today. It has been a while since I watched a sappy chick flick, though. 

Before you start reminding me of how young I am, and how I have plenty of time to adopt, with or without a husband, before you tell me that I have no idea what God has in store for me, and how you have a friend who knows a lady who didn’t get married until she was 37 and she had a baby at 39…please, just don’t. 

I know. I know that I’m not old. I know that there’s time. I know that I don’t know what God has in store for me. I know, but that knowledge does not take away the ache. 

So, instead of wallowing in the ache, I focus that energy on the children in front of me. I love my students like they are my own children. I praise them and encourage them and comfort them and scold them. I pour myself out every day, doing whatever it takes to make sure my kids here at Cookson know they are loved, both the kids I teach daily and the kids I spend time with outside of school. 

And apparently I’m doing something right.

“Dear Ms. Allsbury, 

Thanks for being such a funny, nerdy, and lovable teacher to me and all the other students. I think you are a great addition to this school, and I’m glad your here. You always take care of us like we’re your own kids. Here's a complementary smilley face to brighten your day.

                                                                                     Sincerely and with love, 

                                                                                                      💙💙💙💙💙💙”

With many tears, I put my desire for children at the feet of Jesus. I have decided to trust him, and whether or not anyone ever calls me Mom, I know my God is good and he loves me. 

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. ~Romans 15:13

Ugh...Will he EVER get this?!

Trauma brain. I don’t know if you have ever encountered it, but it is real, and it is vicious.

Where I teach, we approach every child with trauma-informed care, but that most often occurs in our discipline policy. Instead of detentions and pink slips, we have conversations about what is making the child unable to regulate his or her behavior. It is beautiful, and it makes my job a whole lot easier.

However, trauma brain as it affects academics presents a different picture.

Trauma brain in math looks like explaining the same problem 100 times, in 100 different ways, all to no avail.

Trauma brain in reading looks like well thought out verbal answers with advanced level thinking, but written answers barely resembling complete thoughts, let alone complete sentences.

Trauma brain in English sounds like a preposition, a subject, and a direct object walk into a bar and the bartender asks...wait, where was I? He distracted me again!

But then, one day, his face lightens with understanding.

After hearing “That makes no sense…” over and over and over, he simply states, “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” What joy!

I doubt my teaching had anything to do with his understanding. I’m still learning about teaching kids who have experienced trauma, but I’m pretty sure my consistent effort to show him patience and love helped.

I have purchased a couple of books on teaching traumatized children. If you have any information that may help me, please let me know!

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13

Pour Jon Wick

In addition to real stories from my life, I plan to spread joy by way of fiction stories. I hope you enjoy this short, goofy scene that came from my brain. 

 

Kellie and I sat at Pour Jon's coffee shop, sipping our respective coffees and enjoying one another's company. Suddenly, a scream bellowed from the kitchen. A muffin launched from the server's hand as she attempted to pass it gracefully to the dark-haired, brooding man standing at the counter. He looked up at the noise, just in time to catch the rogue baked good in mid-air. Reacting to the sound of the terrified scream, the man pulled a butterfly knife from a hidden compartment on the side of his pants. He whipped the knife around in self-defense but decided the danger had subsided. He gazed down at his beloved knife, and as his hand had not received any permanent damage from the sugary item, he very carefully used the knife to spread the 100% organic free-range butter on his blueberry muffin. 

This is the story of Pour Jon Wick. 

"David called me fat."

"Guys, you need your notes and your math books today." I projected the directions across the room of meandering 6th graders. Most of the class obliged me and got their supplies for another invigorating math lesson.

Anna, on other hand, sat in her seat, her face completely dejected; depression and sadness had noticeably taken over the usually sparkly 11 year old girl. I walked over to see what was up.

I knelt down by her desk. "You OK?"

Frowning down at her desk she replied, "David called me fat."

I know David, and I know David would most likely not call someone fat with the intention of being a bully or tearing them down. Consequently, I decided I would investigate the situation a little further. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

"Yes," she answered pitifully.

I stood up and narrowed my gaze on the suspect. "You. With me."

David's eyes widened as he followed me into the hall.

Trying my best not to sound like a detective from Law and Order, I asked him, "Did you say something to Anna?"

He shook his head, slowly, a look telling me he wasn't quite sure what I was talking about, and that he was wracking his brain to remember what he had said to get him in the hall.

"She said you called her fat." I had decided to skip to the main point.

"OH! Yeah, John (his older brother) saw this video and it says...like....'Yoooouu'rreee faaattt....' in it.....yeah....And I said that...um....like," he stammered out the excuse, and I began to put it together.

"Ah, I see. Hm. Anna heard you quote that and thought you were directing it at her."

He looked at me with a face that basically rejected the accusation that he had done anything wrong.

"David. You need to apologize to her, OK?"

His body language adjusted, suggesting that he understood. He nodded and replied, "Yeah, OK."

15 minutes later...

Anna's giggly personality had reverted to normal, but David's demeanor now took on a sulkier presence, as he'd had time to think about the fact that he'd just gotten in trouble for something he didn’t mean to do.

Gah. Middle schoolers and their hormones. Nevertheless, I did not regret getting involved. I saw a perfect opportunity to teach lessons to both parties.

After class...

Anna and David sat in desks next to each other. Both moods had lifted; however, both were visibly uncomfortable with any kind of impending "talk".

"OK, Anna, you came in all upset because of something David said." She giggled uncomfortably and nodded. "I'd like you to think for a minute about David's heart. Do you think he would actually straight up call you fat? Is he that kind of guy?"

"Uh....no, I guess not..." she mumbled nervously.

I turned to David, "Buddy, you have got to pay attention to what is coming out of your mouth. You never know who is listening and what affect your words might have."

David nodded.

Back to the sparkly one, "Anna, next time you hear David say something and you start to feel bad about, think about his heart. Think about what kind of guy he is and the fact that he wouldn't say something to hurt your feelings on purpose. Give him grace, all right?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah, OK."

"I love you guys very much, and it is important to me that you care about each other. You understand?"

Both nodded. Both finished with the meeting.

"Now, get out of my classroom, and be nice to each other, OK?"

Anna and David giggled, got up, and scampered out into the hall.

How much better would our relationships be if we could learn these lessons? If we could speak only uplifting words, and let love cover a multitude of sins?

~May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13