Being a “Quality” Teacher

I saw a picture the other day that set me back in my chair. The picture looked like this:

Take a good look at those qualifications. It made me sit back and really think whether I’m doing these things with my students.

Sometimes, I find, that teachers (including myself) get onto auto-pilot. And sometimes, we get so frustrated with our students that we don’t take our own deep breath and think about meaningful consequences rather than immediate punishments. Are we actually reaching them at their level, or are we just wasting our breath?

Anyways, take a good look again at this picture, and try and remember to be that memorable teacher, the teacher who was always approachable when a student had a problem, a teacher who was passionate about his/her career, and a teacher who was kind and compassionate towards all students, even the ones who may take a double dose of your time.

Be the teacher you would want to have. ❤

Supporting Your Husband – It’s Not Easy

Supporting you husband… this is not always an easy topic. Sure, when you’re getting along and all is right in the world, it is easy to do things for your husband – happiness just works that way. But what about the times he’s upset you? What about the times he seems so selfish and careless towards you or doesn’t take the time to appreciate anything you do? It’s not so easy then… That’s when bad thoughts start seeping in… “Don’t appreciate me doing your laundry? Do it yourself!” “Do you have to drink out of 10 glasses a day? Do you own dishes!” “Leave your stuff all over the house? I quit!” “This is the third year you’ve done nothing and ‘forgot’ our anniversary? Why are we even married?” Ok… so hopefully it doesn’t get to the point of the last one, but you get the point.

I can honestly say I’ve had my fair share of these kinds of thoughts, but I know it’s wrong and really fight against them. However, I’m human and still fall short of my respecting goals at times. So what do I do?

Well, lately I’ve been returning to the Bible. I cannot tell you how much I admire the women I’ve seen that honestly seem to respect their husbands no matter what. I mean, you can never really tell what goes on behind the scenes. But those women who clearly put their husbands first inspire me so much! So the Bible, the ultimate tale of love, is where I turn to. And you know what happens? I begin to realize how I need to act again.

My husband and I had a so-so night last night. Parts of it were good, but he’s struggling with a few things and handles it differently than I would. So of course, I want to set him straight, to tell him how to fix things and how to do it “my way”. Even now as I’m writing this, that’s starting to sink in… it’s my way. Wow… I’m trying to make him do things MY way. Me. It’s all about me. Ugh… sometimes reality really results in humility. He’s not me.. He shouldn’t have to do everything MY way. Ugh…

Anyways, after going out for supper, we came home, and he wanted to nap before going to the gym because he was exhausted. Of course, both him and I knew this meant he probably wouldn’t get up to go to the gym, but I didn’t make a deal about it because I’d rather him feel better than not. I was not as exhausted, and woke up at 1:30 a.m. I had the option to stay in bed and sleep, or realize that he doesn’t have any clean work shirts for tomorrow, and that would really start his day off badly if he did not have any clean work shirts to wear. He’s in the sales business and looking good is part of the job. So instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, I quietly snuck out of the bedroom, careful not to wake him up, and came downstairs to do a couple loads of laundry. Now, he didn’t treat me like something great last night, and quite frankly, there are some nights I’m glad he goes to sleep so we can wake up and start a new day, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I still love this man and I married him for a reason.

I think too many of us forget that part. We get too caught up in the stresses of life and whether we want to admit it or not, neither our partners nor us are perfect. We just aren’t. We don’t always treat each other like we should. Jobs get in the way. Responsibilities get in the way. Bills and money issues hugely get in the way. And that’s even without raising children in the picture! But it doesn’t hurt to take a step back every once in a while and truly think about why you even married that person in the first place. Make a list of the things you have liked/still like about that person. Focus on the good, and not the bad.

My husband works long hours to try and support me. He took a risk changing careers which hasn’t wielded all the results he expected it to right away which is a lot of his stress lately. I know he deals with it badly because he wants to be the breadwinner, he wants to be able to get me anything in the world that I could want. I so admire him for that. And to be honest, I don’t just admire him for that, I know that he puts in more hours than anyone else he works with and I believe that he will get to the level he wants just because he tries so hard. He’s incredible that way. He also was brave enough to even take a risk, one that I don’t think I would have had the guts to do. He’s not afraid of bugs and handles them for me, but not like anything you’re probably thinking. My husband taught me a dear lesson in life, and that’s the fact that just because bugs are annoying, they still were given life as a gift too. My husband will NOT kill bugs unless he needs to. If it’s just a housefly in our house, he will catch it and release it outside. That goes for moths, larger bugs, etc… He humbled me. He is also extremely trusting. I know a lot of men who handle all of the household finances, and the wives essentially ask for permission to use certain monies and never get involved with the family’s finances. It’s the opposite for us. I’m a little OCD when it comes to money because I’ve had to support myself when there was little to support myself on. Literally, a $1 bag of Crispers from the discount store would be a meal because that’s all I could afford. So when it comes to debt and bills, I need to know what’s going on and need to see progress being made. My husband trusted me enough to hand over that responsibility. It took stress off of him when we became a united household, and I get my ability to do what I need to do. I mean, seriously, how many men would do that? Even writing these few things renews the appreciation and love in my heart for my husband. He may have some habits I don’t like, but that’s not what matters. What matters is we are here in life and love to handle the situations life throws at us together. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So ladies, and husbands if you’re reading this, stop complaining, stop griping, stop being so negative towards each other. Understand that you do not have to agree on everything. You can agree to disagree and be happy. Just sit back and remember why you fell in love in the first place, and never stop putting each other first.

Mark 10:9 – “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

Proverbs 21:19 – “It is better to live in a desert land Than with a contentious and vexing woman.”

Colossians 3:18 – “Wives, be subject to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.”

Ephesians 5:22 – “Wives, be subject to your own husbands, as to the Lord.”

Proverbs 14:1 – “The wise woman builds her house, But the foolish tears it down with her own hands.”

Ephesians 5:33 – “Nevertheless, each individual among you also is to love his own wife even as himself, and the wife must see to it that she respects her husband.”

Titus 2:5 – “to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored.”

And of course, read Proverbs 31 for the great description of a woman in Christ.

I hope this helps you all! If you have any marriage advice, I would love to hear it below. ❤

When I Realized My Grandfather Really Wasn’t Coming Back

Something happened today that really jarred my memory and brought me to write this post. I saw the following picture on Facebook and it got me thinking about my grandfather.

It took me right back to the moments where I can remember thinking about him and instantly started crying. Even now writing this, I can feel the water filling up in my eyes. I know many of you will say that you have/had an awesome grandfather to, but I’d like to take a minute to tell you about mine, and how special he truly was.

I guess it starts when my mother became pregnant with me. My parents were not married. I guess my grandfather liked my dad, but he was very upset about the whole situation and didn’t talk to my mother for days. However, being the man that he was, he still bought her a crib and everything she would need for me, even though he wasn’t talking to her. He was always that way, taking care of things even when he was upset.

Of course, as soon as I was born, he was completely smitten. My mother is a child of two, but lived very much a single child’s life. She never met her brother as he died on a surgery table a few months after he was born. That meant, I was the first and only grandchild.

My parents didn’t stay together very long. They did get married after I was born, but separated when I was about 4, officially divorcing when I was around 5. Where do you think we went back to? My grandparents. In fact, their home was very much “home base” my entire life.

My grandfather always spoiled me (and later my other siblings). I have pictures where my toys barely fit in the picture with me. My father told me that I would get tired of opening gifts because there were simply so many. I had this 6″+ man wrapped around my tiny finger. There’s no denying he loved me.

My grandfather was a used car salesman. In fact, it was my mother’s company that he worked for her since she dropped out of college to be home with me. The company was even named after my sister and I. But eventually he took over the company and changed its name since he did become the only one running the business.

I used to love visiting him at his office. My grandmother and I would get lunches for him, he would let me sit in his office chair, I would be called his “Number 1 Dudette”, and I loved the fact that everywhere we went, people always knew and respected my grandfather, and thus treated me as if I was a special person. I had never met anyone who didn’t know or like my grandfather.

If you could imagine the biggest realistic playground in the world, that would be my grandfather’s car lot. He gave me access to all the keys and vehicles in his lot. I can still remember the amount of fun we had pretending to drive the cars, and especially in exploring the only RV I remember him having. Only once did he ask me to backup a truck into a corner spot. My mother sat in the passenger seat with me, and I remember learning really quick to use my mirrors. I was so scared I would mess up his vehicles in this tight spot. But I did it! I still can’t believe he trusted me…

If I could compare him to anything, it would very much be the godfather. I’m not joking when I say that everyone seemed to know who he was. He was an amazing man when he was happy, but he was always a man you feared when he was unhappy. I don’t remember him every getting mad at me, but it was a general rule that when he came home, the remote control to the television had to be in the right spot for him to lay on the couch and watch what he wanted. He became upset if the remote went missing. There were just certain things you knew not to do.

Sometimes, my grandmother and him would fight. I’m sure there’s not a couple in the world who has not at least had one argument. Sometimes, or maybe more than sometimes, this meant he would stay at his office for the night. It was a conveniently built, small building that contained 3 rooms and a tiny hallway. One room was “the office”. The second room was of course a washroom. And the third room was his bedroom. It contained only a tv, a bed, and a mini fridge. It pretty much had everything he needed if he needed a night away. So it was a fairly normal occurrence for him not to come home sometimes.

The best thing about my grandfather was that he was always there for us. There was a time when we didn’t have the most money, and work was slow. My grandfather always provided what we needed, and then some. Most of you know that I have moved like 20 times with my family, not including on my own. The one person who was always there, regardless of where we were, was my grandfather. He never missed an opportunity to come and stay with us. (Of course I should say my grandmother always came with him as well, but I will dedicate a post to her another day.) He was honestly one of the biggest constants in my life.

When my family made the official decision to move from the east coast to the west coast, my grandparents offered to bring my sister and I out at the end of summer so that we could spend the extra time with our father. It was a fair bit of a long drive, but even then my grandfather trusted me with reading the map (before GPS systems). I almost think his belief in me helped me grow to the independent woman I am today. I have a lot to credit him for.

They stayed with us at our new place for a few days. Early in the morning, him and I would get up and drive to a hotel or another homey restaurant to eat. He was not a chain-restaurant type of person. Even back in the town he worked, he had one particular restaurant he preferred to eat at, and everybody knew his specials and what he enjoyed eating. He always preferred the homestyle cooking. In fact, he met my grandmother while she was waitressing at such a type of restaurant. My family and I have visited that restaurant a few times and imagined what it must have been like. They still have the juke boxes and the old stools. Sometimes it’s nice to preserve history rather than to embrace change.

We then took a trip to the “big city” so my grandparents could see it before they left. We had a lot of fun. At one point, we lost my grandfather in the big mall. I’ll never forget him driving around on those motorized scooters for people who can’t walk well. He had even gotten an orange smoothie and I guess spilled it all over the machine. If you knew my grandfather like I did, you would picture him using colourful language for the time he was mad, then acting like nothing ever happened.

I don’t remember how we ever found him, but I can tell you it was one of the hardest good-byes of my life.This wasn’t just moving a few hours away, this was a four day drive across the country. Of course they would come visit again, but the visits would never be as frequent as before. What I didn’t know was that my tears would get worse before they ever got better.

Literally two or three days after we returned to our new home, I got a call from my grandmother. It sounded like her for sure, but something was a little different. She asked to speak to my mom pretty much right away, so I gave my mom the phone and sat on the landing of the stairs. My mother took the phone into her room which was at the top of the stairs. The next words I heard told me pretty much everything I didn’t want to hear. She said, as she began crying, “Oh Mom!”.

My grandparents had been involved in a car accident on their journey home. An impatient driver went in their lane to pass a semi-truck and didn’t see my grandparents van coming at them. My grandmother was in the hospital, a little bruised but otherwise ok (she would later need nose surgery to correct the alignment). My grandparents’ friend who was helping them drive home had so many broken bones, including ribs and shoulder, and would also need counselling for what happened (he was driving at the time – completely not his fault). But my grandfather didn’t make it.The speed they were traveling on the highway, and the impact of a completely head-on hit left the vehicle in shambles and took my grandfather with it.

Immediately, we packed and drove back to the city. I thankfully had a great aunt and uncle who lived just outside the limits and welcomingly invited us in until we could all make arrangements to fly home. My mother was able to fly right away to be with my grandmother, but there were 4 more of us to fly, and we had to wait for a cheaper ticket to afford it.

It was so strange when I got home. Being in my grandparents house seemed so normal. I mean, I was only at my “new home” for less than a week. I had no attachments to it and didn’t even have to act like it was supposed to be my new home. I had come home and it felt like life should be normal again.

I know I cried a few times, but I remember just having the attitude and thoughts of “My grandfather is just at his office, staying the night like he usually does. Sometime he’ll come home.”

I still remember it as clear as yesterday: My mother and I were sitting in the living room, on separate couches, not talking much as we didn’t for a while, and her saying the exact same thing that I felt – that Grampy was just at his office and sometime he would come home. And it hit us right then that we had to realize it was wasn’t true, that Grampy really wasn’t coming back. I broke down (just like I am again now) because he was always there, for everything! How could he not come back this time! How could the one stable thing in my life not come back! It was so hard to accept.

Sitting in his house, seeing all of his old stuff, going to his office, it was all so hard to do when you realize the person who has always been there for you, the person who has loved you your whole life was suddenly gone. My nickname would never be used again, except when telling stories of him. My promise from him of giving me my first car would never come true. My life was drastically left with an empty hole that I’m not sure was ever filled again. Nobody could take his place, and I could never have been prepared for that instant change in time.

Life is not fair, and it never will be. The devil is waiting for any opportunity to attack and make a mess of things. He knows which strings to pull and he knows how to make things hurt you more than anyone else. He knows he can damage us and take away everything that means the world to us, which is why it’s so important to turn to God when you’re hurting, to let Him hold you and tell you that everything is going to be ok, because one day, it will. One day, when Jesus returns and we are taken to Heaven with Him, there will not be anymore pain, there will not be anymore death, there will not be anymore tears. I don’t know what my grandfather’s relationship with Christ was like. I know he sort of had a falling out at one point, but he insisted my mom make sure she took us to church. So I only hope and pray that he had a good relationship with God, because it would be so nice to run into those loving arms I miss so dearly, the loving arms that were missing during both of my graduations and my wedding, the loving arms that were taken away from me way too soon.

I miss this man more than anything, and truly just thinking of how much I miss him brings me to tears almost instantly. Hold your loved ones close and make sure you let them know how important they are to you. You never know which instant will take them away.

Day 8

Today was a different day. Today was a busy morning, getting my husband’s clothes ready for his new job that he’s currently stressed about (in school this week, doesn’t have a chance to start making money until next week), as well as making sure I had everything and was ready for my students’ PAT today.

I did not eat breakfast, and pretty much snacked on bananas, apples, Bolthouse Vanilla Chai (which is vegan!), apple juice, and other school-approved snacks that I had bought. I snacked pretty much for the first 5 hours of the day. Oh boy… not the best food, but not necessarily the worst.

Because my students missed their gym time and morning recess, I gave them a 45-minute recess after lunch. They were such troopers, and I was proud of them. After all, they were writing for 2-3 hours straight. It gave me an opportunity to not only get some fresh air, but also to soak up some good vitamin D!

When I came home, I was so happy to find my new Organic Box! It’s like opening a present every time to find these beautiful organic fruits and vegetables. This time, I also ordered some organic seaweed chips for my husband and I to try. They were DELISH! We ate the whole bag (my husband ate more than I did, but I still had a fair share!).

Before heading to the gym, I had two pieces of Silver Hills Squirrely bread with peanut butter and peach jam made with xylitol. I also had some rainbow carrots with a vegan ranch dip I also ordered in my Organic Box. The dip was ok, but I have to be honest when I say the rainbow carrots are not particularly my favourite. Maybe I’ve become so out-of-touch with the taste of real carrots again. We’ll see.

At the gym, I was on the treadmill for 30 minutes, then did some lunges, walking high kicks, some stretches, and my chiropractor exercises. I felt so good and energized the whole time.

When I came home, I took a look at those mangos I still have done nothing with (should have done something with them yesterday. They are really going to go bad soon!) So tonight, I took out the blender, cut all of the good flesh off of them, and pureed it with a little vanilla and macadamia oil. I then took out a bowl and mixed some flour with baking soda, cinnamon, and a pinch of salt. I then mixed the two together, put it in a shallow baking dish, and waited for my fresh mango cake to cook.

While I was waiting, for tonight’s supper (really need to fix my whole eating raw until 4, cooked after 4), I blended 4 bananas (also need to be used asap) with some unsweetened vanilla almond milk and 5 medjool dates.Talk about filling!

My Rib is Injured… Again!

Several summers ago, I got sick. The worst part of getting sick for me is always this nasty cough that I get. This particular summer, the cough was so bad that I heard a “snap” following a hard cough. I didn’t notice anything at first though I had a huge feeling that something was terribly wrong. It wasn’t until later that I figured it out.

I jumped in my father’s truck that he had let me borrow while working away. And as soon as I had jumped up into the seat, I felt it. It was a tight feeling at first, but then quickly developed into a bad pain. I could barely turn the steering wheel. In the short 5 minute drive to the trailer I was renting, I knew I had to call my mother to come drive me to the hospital. I had to wait a fair time for her as I was about 45 minutes away, but she quickly came and took me to the hospital.

The hospital was about another 30 minutes from where I was, and the wait at the hospital was about 2 hours. The problem was, by the time I was registered and sitting in the waiting room, I was having a hard time breathing. All I can remember is intense pain and focussing on low and shallow breaths.

We waited for awhile until my mother decided to check where we were on the list, only to find out that we had been bumped down rather than up and the wait from that point was longer than 2 hours. It hurts to breathe but I’m not a serious case? My mother was mad to say the least.

We hopped in the car, and headed to the next hospital an hour away. It was a shorter time than I would have had to wait at the first hospital, and this hospital took me in right away. The only problem was, I had popped a rib muscle, which the doctor promptly told me hurts as much as breaking a rib (crazy pain), and there was nothing they could do except give me Tylenol 3.

Now some people I knew would have gone crazy over Tylenol 3. My mother had a mini freak-out session about how I might become addicted to it, but after telling her everything would be fine, I got my prescription and was on my way.

It was a painful summer. The T3s didn’t touch the pain hardly at all. I always walked around with one hand putting pressure on that rib area. It was awful. Nothing but time was able to heal that wound.

Once again, I was sick a few weeks ago and the cough has mostly gone but not completely. I know my body has suffered a little more than normal (didn’t help when my chiropractor asked what happened except I had been doing nothing but sleeping and sitting on the couch, trying to get better), but my body still seemed in decent shape. I worked out this week and everything seemed good.

Last night was a chest workout, and even though I warmed up and stretched, in the very first exercise (bench press), my rib started to hurt. I can’t remember if it is the same side or not, but I’m pretty sure I popped a stupid rib muscle again. It hurts so bad and I have to put pressure on the area to even try to take a deep breath. My abs are also starting to hurt because of the way I have to modify my body when I need to cough. It’s miserable.

I had just gotten well enough to start back in the gym and this is what happens! Ah!

To be honest, I wasn’t going to complete my workout last night because of the pain. But as I sat in the locker room, looking at my open locker as I was going to change, I got mad, closed and locked my locker, and went out and did the incline dumbbell press. I’m pretty sure it was a very dumb idea. I’m pretty sure I made it worse. I had written down to do 4 sets of 12, but after 3 sets, I knew I was being ridiculous. I shouldn’t be mad, although it was hard to not at least be disappointed.

So here I am with heat packs and taking it easy. I would much rather be in the gym but I’ve done my damage and I should know better. Injuries are something to take serious and it’s very important to know when to quit. So learn from my mistake and save yourself some pain. I’m all about lifting heavy and “sucking-it-up” in most situations, but I felt the pain and knew I should have quit. Next time, I will.

Week 12 Day 3

I drove myself to work today. What a good feeling! I still got up at the regular time, but had so much more time to get things done and still get to work on time. I actually enjoy not feeling rushed in the morning!

The school day went well. I kept in all of my students during morning recess to write lines about how important it is to be quiet in class. I also had some boys scrub a few cupboard doors with toothbrushes (I have a cleaning stash under my sink) from throwing snow outside (an absolute no-no).

Now, the crazy part about this, is I was filling out a graduate survey for my university, and one of the questions it asked was: How would your students describe you? I’m the type of teacher that talks straight to my students. We work together and we figure things out together. Then, if necessary, I will step in to solve problems that they are not solving on their own. And because I’m very straight-up with them, I told them what I was doing and asked them to be completely honest about their answers. Keep in mind the trouble they were just in. They completely poured out these amazing descriptions, one being, “a good disciplinarian”. I wasn’t sure how to take that at first until they told me that my punishments were good and fair. Wow. I love my class!

After school, I had to leave right away because I was getting my next size of trays for Invisalign at the dentist. The roads were terribly icy, but I managed to make it there safely. I then proceeded to sit for an hour because of how behind they were. However, I couldn’t leave and come back the next day because my dentist only works on Tuesdays. So I waited, and then got my new bottom plate, as well as a maintenance top plate. It hasn’t started hurting yet, but I fear it’s coming.

I went home, got ready, and my husband and I went to the gym. I had a very good back and biceps workout. I was stronger, felt solid, and took a little more of a leisurely approach by slightly longer breaks since my workout was a little shorter today (7 exercises). I even was able to complete 25 minutes of steady state cardio on the stationary bike! It was just a good time at the gym.

I noticed something at the gym tonight though. Standing in front of the mirrors, I realized that my back shape is nice (from a side view). But it’s almost like my stomach is somehow getting flatter and yet sticking out more. I guess I can best describe it like a thick, smooth curve. I haven’t quite settled on how I feel about this. But I chose to leave it as a realization that I am stronger, I feel better, and regardless of the fat percentage, my muscles are showing more than they ever have before, and that’s a feat in itself. So I’m going to keep waiting and see how my body continues to take shape.

A Day in Montrose, Colorado

Yesterday was such a good day. We were trying to figure out where to go (seriously spent 2 hours trying to decide) until we finally decided to stay local. Although I’ve driven through Montrose many times, particularly on the way to the gym, to get gas, to the Wal-Mart, etc… I have never once walked down Main St. where all those little shops are! So that’s what we did.

Montrose is not a huge town, but not very small either. The Main St. did not take long to walk, but the variety of stores was interesting. Mind you, not half of them were open on Sunday, but when you’re pretty much broke (waiting for the next paycheque), it’s best to go window shopping anyways! I met some very interesting people, and made some really neat discoveries, such as this amazing pet store that we never knew existed. We also chanced upon this new ice cream bar that was set up to look like the old ice cream bars with red stools at the counter, sparkly red seats at the tables, and all of the old glass dishes for the different sundaes, banana splits and milkshakes you could want! Obviously we had to stop here and loved every minute of it!

After walking Main St., we went to Hastings. Now, I’ve been to Hastings many times, but can I ever say no to a book store? Hardly. Yes, I did walk out with more books, but they were having a really good sale, and I didn’t spend outrageously (at least not to me!). We also each picked out a movie to watch: My choice–Quartet, my husband’s choice–42, and my mother-in-law’s choice–Argo. My husband and I had seen Argo already, but that was the one we watched last night and it still makes me grip my seat!! That was quite the movie. If you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend it, just be warned there is some language warnings that should go with it.

After we spent a large amount of time in Hastings (everybody in this family loves books and magazines), we went to the Montrose County Fair and Rodeo. Of course we stopped at Taco Bell on the way for a quick bite to eat. I know Taco Bell isn’t that good for you, but Canadian Taco Bell just doesn’t offer everything, and is definitely much more expensive than the American Taco Bell. So it was my treat!

At the County Fair and Rodeo, we sat and watched the 4-H Dog Agility competition. Now, I suggested going to this because my male dog, Dwight, needs to do this. For an under 10 lbs, mini-dachshund with half the legs of any other breed, he jumps higher than most. He’s got this incredible jumping ability and loves to do it. So we sat and watched these kids and their dogs go through the agility courses, and I’m so in it! My husband is going to make me an agility course from PVC pipe so that when I come back to the states, I can begin the training. I’m so excited!!!

The only thing I wasn’t excited about afterwards was my sunburn. I hadn’t noticed AT ALL that I had been burning while watching the show. In fact neither did my husband. But last night I was unable to lift weights at the gym from how badly I burned (but did and awesome 1/2 hour elliptical session!) and had to sleep on my stomach last night. I’m not sure the gym will be much more than cardio, and possibly some arms today either.

Moral of my story: Put sunscreen on before you ever even go outside, and put it on frequently, especially if you’re outside sweating. Otherwise, it’s a painful, and super unhealthy experience for you and your skin!