One of my New Year’s resolutions is to work on my relationship with Christ. I want Him to be my first thought in every situation. I want Him to consume every detail of my life. I want to spend more … Continue reading
Tag Archives: Understanding
I Wonder If I Argue Too Much…
Sometimes I take a minute to sit back and reflect over what I do, whether it’s the direction my life is going in, or the way I handled a situation.
Recently, I’ve started thinking about my part in online discussions or arguments. In the past, I was the child who never spoke out. It was so bad, I would even have my younger sister go to the counter of a restaurant to get something they forgot to give me (even something as small as ketchup!).
When I first became (seriously) Christian, it was the same way. I was too scared that I didn’t know enough to speak out, or that I would be ridiculed because of information I didn’t have the answer to.
When I became vegan, it was the same thing. I didn’t feel I knew enough to speak out because I wasn’t the most “educated” or didn’t know “all the right answers”.
But as I continued to watch everyone else, I realized that you will never know everything. And besides, the best argument you have is your personal testimony, no matter whether it’s veganism, Christianity, or anything else. Nobody can argue what you’ve experienced. They can only argue facts and somehow even opinions (though I think everyone should be allowed an opinion).
The very first argument I ever felt brave enough to enter was between an atheist and a Christian. I couldn’t stand the picture of Christianity that the Christians were displaying that I felt compelled to go in and clear up the awful view. No, I was not trying to convert the atheist, I simply was explaining things she clearly had questions about and had been given a bad taste and picture of previously. By the end of the hour+ long conversation, she actually thanked me, and though she said she would not be considering becoming Christian at the time, she thanked me for being so understanding and being patient with my answers while explaining things in a different light than she had previously been shown.
To me, that should be the point of an argument or discussion. It shouldn’t be to fight or to prove one side better than the other. Of course I believe Christianity is the way, but I’m not going to force it down other peoples’ throats. God gave me my freedom of choice, so who am I to take it away from others? I can only present information and leave it up to them.
The next argument I ever went in on was not the same way. In fact, I got told to go take a nap along with being called many names. My whole point in that argument was that you can love people without supporting their actions. For example, you can love your child without supporting their drug use. You can support them for the good things, show them outwardly love, and even include them in normal things. But when an action they are doing goes against your beliefs or causes harm to either them or others, you don’t have to support that action. In no way does that mean you stop loving that person. But the group, or at least some people in that group, couldn’t accept that. I don’t know if I didn’t explain myself well enough, but I was in that conversation for several hours. It came to the point that I understood Christians were not going to be supported in that vegan group, and I respectfully excused myself from the group.
I don’t intervene in everything I see on the internet that I disagree with, but when it comes to things that harm others, when it comes to peoples’ health, or when it comes to slandering Christians, I try to go in and paint a different picture. Some people are accepting, some people will never be kind no matter what you say. I’ve been called a heap of names and been criticized against sometimes it seems like anything I say. Even when I’m remaining as polite as I can and stating again and again that nobody has to believe the same as I do, and that I will respect what they believe just as I would expect them to respect what I believe. It is possible to live in harmony without believing the same things (just look at the conversation with the atheist and I). But for some reason, I’m finding more and more people who cannot leave it that way.
I had a fellow Christian follow one of these conversations and eventually tell me that I should just end my conversation because the others (the main of which was apparently Hindu) was just going to keep coming up with every slandering thing and continue saying the worst possible portraits of Christianity they could. I just found it so sad. Sad that first of all, someone had views like that of what can be the most amazing faith. I know a lot of Christians call themselves Christian while living a very different life. Sad that also, someone who was a self-proclaimed “vegan” that is supposed to be filled with so much love could be so hateful towards Christians who honestly had done nothing wrong in this conversation but speak of the original diet in the Garden of Eden (vegan diet!). But as the other Christian woman suggested, I quit responding, despite the fact I continued to get blamed for things and called names in further comments.
I think about that conversation, and I continue to think of how I could have done it differently, what I might have done wrong. But the thing is, in every comment, I approached it in a very much “my experience was…” manner. I didn’t say that her beliefs were wrong, and I never discriminated against her, even telling her that I would continue to respect her and her choices. I don’t really want to continue the conversation, and I won’t, even though it’s hard to know that my name has been continued on in the conversation very negatively. I just don’t get it.
It makes me think… is there a point to me joining in these conversations? Is there a point when I’m just going to be downgraded and slandered by so many people? But then I also think of the vegan community who promotes standing up for those who are voiceless. I do think if you’re passionate about something, you shouldn’t just remain quiet about it, whether through actions or words. So do I just hold back my passion now that I finally feel brave to stand up for people? I mean, Christians in some of these groups literally get POUNDED into the ground by others, called every name in the book, their faith literally ridiculed up and down. I guess I feel like just by saying something (though again, not in a forceful way, often in a soft, from experience type of way) that they at least know someone is in their corner with them. I’m not afraid of being Christian. I’m not afraid of being vegan. I’m not ashamed of the things I believe. So if I get called names, it really doesn’t bother me. I don’t get as “heated” about these things as clearly others do. Temper control is not an issue for me in these conversations and part of me wonders if that’s what makes some people so mad. I don’t swear, I don’t believe in calling people names, I’m not that kind of person.
I don’t know… is it worth it or is it not? I guess I have just come to a place in my life where I’m content… maybe even more than content. For non-Christians, I know they won’t understand this, but for Christians who have experienced God saving their lives, they will know what I’m talking about. I can honestly say I’m filled with the joy of the LORD which makes everything surmountable. Months when we have less income, I don’t freak out anymore, because when I had no idea how we were going to survive before, God provided the money. I’ve totalled 2 cars, one that I in no way should have walked away from, but God protected me. I used to be so scared to face my mistakes and of punishments I may receive, but through God I know I have the strength to face whatever comes my way. I use to be so OCD about making sure everything was a certain way, but now I’m ok if things change. Even at work, when a wrench gets thrown in my plans, I don’t care. I’ve learned that nothing can be set in stone, but whatever may happen, God always provides. There is honestly little that upsets me. And why wouldn’t I want others to know that same feeling? Can you imagine a world where there was no stress, no worry, no panic? Can you imagine how much happier everyone would be? Can you imagine the amount of stress-induced illnesses that could be prevented? How can people not want a life like that?
Again, I’m not trying to force my lifestyle and faith down peoples’ throats. I always approach it in a way that I can share my experience and they can make their own choices past that. If that’s so wrong, then I don’t know how any conversation can take place. So I don’t know… what do you guys think? Is it worth the interjection in hopes that two fighting groups can maybe be a little more understanding and live in harmony? Or is it just a waste of energy? Maybe I try to play the “peacemaker” a little too much… I don’t know. Tell me what you think in the comments below.
Farmers Do Not Love Their Cows
I apologize that the title of this blog sounds hateful. I can assure you I don’t have farmers. For 2 years of my life, my family had our own farm. My best friend in university’s family had a beef farm, and for two years, my hairdresser and her husband had a beef farm. I don’t hate farmers in the least. But here is an argument I was part of this week.
Now, normally, I’m not such a vocal person. I’m not the kind of person who just looks for a fight or who believes everyone should think the same way I do. In fact, because of my Christian beliefs, I believe that God has given everyone the gift of free choice, and so I am not someone to take that away. Of course this gets bordered when it inflicts pain on others, but that’s a whole other topic. The fact is, in Exodus, God gave permission to eat certain animals, one of them being cows. So if you want to eat beef, I may not agree with it, but you have total right to do that. So that’s not where this argument is coming from.
What I saw this week was a picture of an almost frozen calf in a farmer’s truck. This is a typical appearance. In my two years of farming, we were up in the middle of the night to help our animals sometimes. I get the work it takes. I see the dedication farmers have. But the caption of the farmer is how much they cared/loved their cows. That’s where I had a problem.
Now, this world has problems enough with understanding what love really is. All too often we see people throwing around the “love” word without really meaning it. People date people and still keep their own needs above their partners. People get married, and stop caring for each other. This is an awful view of love. There are so many terrible views of love. One of the pure views of love that are left in the world is when I look at mothers who truly love their children. They will do anything to protect them and give them the best lives possible. That’s what love should be. Fighting for the one you love, willing to die for that person, that’s love.
Now, I know we are talking about animals and not humans, and many people do not consider them on the same level, so that’s fine. Let’s go with that. But love, in no sense of any manner, means killing the thing you love. Think of a child’s favourite toy, or an adult’s favourite car. You love that toy/car. If that object were to “die”, you would be incredibly upset and angry. These objects aren’t even alive. Yet the cows are. (This also goes for pigs/sheep/chickens, etc…)
So these ALIVE things that farmers are claiming they “love” are raised to be killed. Does that still seem like love to you? Is it caring to kill them?
I had someone tell me that ranchers and farmers are different. That’s cool. I can see they are different. That’s not a big deal to me. The ranchers say they are animal rights activists and they do what they can to give the cows the best lives they can. Well, although it does seem like a very nice gesture to give an animal the best life possible for their short lives, do you think they would call it a “good life” to live for a couple years then be killed? Would you call it a “good life” if you were raised to the age of 2 or 18 (2 year old cow = 18 years as a human) to know you would be placed with a bullet between your eyes and then cut apart for others to eat? Would you call that loving? Is that caring? Knowing you were only born to be food? I don’t think so.
I think there is such a disconnect in this world! It’s crazy! If you are willing to put all that care into an animal, taking a cow into your home to warm them up, saying that you “love” them, well, I will agree you are acting that way. But why do you stop loving them? Why does it change from this seemingly “love” feeling to a feeling of “get on my plate! Die!” Is that how you feel about your dog? Is that how you feel about your cat? Is that how you feel about your children? They’re only worth loving for so long before you get rid of them and don’t care what happens to them?
Some of you may be wondering why I have such a big deal over a simple word. But here’s the reason, people are not owning what actually happens. Sure, the cow may have a “good life” before its death date. But here’s what happens to this “beloved animal” on it’s death date. It gets taken on a usually overloaded cow trailer where they are not given water or anything of substance on the way to slaughter. Once they get to the slaughterhouse, they become terribly frightened. They hear other cows expressing their fright and just as a dog has amazing senses in the personality of humans, cows are no different. They can sense fear and know something is wrong. The “beloved” creatures are as scared as a child in the dark except darkness is easy to fix, death is not. So not only are they unloaded to this terrible place, many people abuse these animals while they are still alive, fighting with creatures who are only scared and reacting as such. Do you go in and punish your child for having a nightmare? These cows are LIVING their nightmare and being punished for it.
When the time comes to be killed, a bullet is put between their eyes. Now, according to government regulations, it’s ok if they’re not killed by that bullet as long as they are stunned and unable to move. Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s almost like a totally functioning person in a coma. These people, when out of the coma, are able to tell you things that people said because they were totally there, just not in control of their body. That’s how these cows are except they can’t tell you what people are saying, but they can tell you about the hooks that were painfully shoved through their legs. Would you like to be alive with hooks piercing your body? I’m going to guess not. Of course, the hook is not enough to kill the cow. So the next step is being sliced open down the middle of their bodies and through their neck. Mmm. What an awesome feeling while you’re still alive. So humane. Such a “loved” and “cared about” animal, right?
So here’s the thing. If you can accept what you do, and you have no problem saying cows are just money to you, that you don’t actually love them and don’t care about the violence you put them through, then by all means that’s at least not hypocritical. Again, I don’t agree with it and think it speaks volumes about the kind of person you are, but I at least appreciate the honesty. But if you advertise to the world that you are such a caring and loving person to these animals, you are so hypocritical and maybe even lying to yourself! I’m asking farmers and ranchers to take responsibility for their actions. You’re not really an animal rights activist when you’re still sending them to a bitter death. So that’s the part I have a problem with. Accept the realities of your job. Don’t just pretend that you’re doing something good for them because for all the good you did before, I guarantee the cows would choose a little less cozy life in exchange for keeping their lives. Nobody wants to die, not even animals. They are alive, they have thoughts, they are just unable to communicate to us the way we need to understand. So start thinking and accept what the truth is. That’s it. If you choose to continue to eat meat, like I said, that’s your choice. But know where that meat is coming from and what that animal is going through to get to your stomach when the world over knows a vegetarian/vegan diet is a way to thrive. You don’t need meat, you don’t need dairy products. But make your choice while being educated and not hiding the truth.
Know the truth, own your choice.
Skinned Alive
So, it’s getting time for me to get a new vehicle. Not because I’m tired of my old one, but because my current one is going a little psychotic on me. Let me explain.
Half of the time, when I turn the key in the ignition to turn my car on, it revs really high for no reason. I then usually wait a minute for it to slow down a bit before putting my foot on the brake and putting the shifter into reverse. Almost always, it will rev itself high again, and if I didn’t have my foot on the brake, I would be in the neighbour’s house. I’ve even had to slam it back into park and shut it off because the vehicle just wants to fly backwards. It’s the scariest thing.
Now, my husband asked the mechanics about the situation, and apparently it’s common for my era of Kia to do this and they aren’t really sure what causes it or how to fix it. So essentially, according to the actual Kia mechanics, I’m at a loss. I either keep driving this vehicle and chance getting seriously hurt or seriously hurting others someday, or get something new that is safer. So naturally, we’re looking for something new.
Now, since I’ve been educating myself so much on how things are going in the world, leather has become an issue for me. I don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been car shopping, but most of the vehicles come with leather seats now. In fact, you can’t get the fancier packages without leather seats; they just don’t make them that way.
The issue is, my husband doesn’t care if it has leather. In fact, he prefers leather. I, on the other hand, do not want leather. In fact, it is my number one criteria. Cows get skinned for that leather, and it’s not a “happy” world where we think the cows are dead before they skin them. In most cases, the cows are not. And before you start distancing yourself from any feelings of understanding, put yourself in their shoes. Do you want to be alive while they are shedding your skin off of your body? Do you know the FDA says it’s ok for a cow to just be “stunned” before they are slaughtered? I refuse to have any part of this.
Let’s talk Rolls Royce for a moment. It’s a highly sought after car. But did you know they boast about how many cows the kill to get enough leather for the interior of their vehicles? They are happy to boast about containing 15-18 cow hides inside every Phantom. It’s sickening.
Maybe some of you think I’m crazy. But honestly, think about it a minute, and reply below. How can you purchase something that could have been skinned alive, feeling every stroke of that knife, having the outer layer of your nerve-attached body peeled off of you, just so you have a “fancier vehicle”? I’m not that heartless! What do you think?
Article on this issue: http://www.care2.com/causes/the-shocking-truth-about-leather-no-its-not-a-meat-byproduct.html
***The truth of the matter is, I was going to post a picture as there are many of these poor cows being skinned alive for leather. Just go to Google and type something as simple as “cows leather” and you will several pictures come up. It is a sad reality. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I can’t look at these pictures without wanting to cry, without feeling ashamed that we are treating a life like that. I have loved animals since I was young and never put the pieces together about what I was eating until a couple years ago. Animals were my pets, were my joy, were my friends. They brought a calmness and a sense of uplifting to my life. I can’t stand by and be a cause of the pain and suffering they have to endure for our own selfishness. So I will leave these pictures with you that I believe will still get the point across. All animals have brains. They all feel, have emotions, and react in their method of communication. Don’t be heartless. Have a heart.
The Penalty of Standing Out
I hate the way the world works sometimes. I hate seeing people in pain. I hate watching people getting picked on or bullied. I hate sin and wrong-doings in this world.
When I was going through my university years, completing my education degree, I had a desire to work with special needs children. It wasn’t because I looked forward to the extra work that often comes with special needs children, but because I wanted to make a difference. I knew special needs children were often put down and sometimes stared at as if the were a circus sideshow. I knew I could step up and be the voice of those children, and I knew that I could help those children feel as important as they are. But that’s not what happened.
At first I ended up teaching at a Native School. It took me awhile to learn the different dynamics needed to teach students who come from a history of anger. It was a definite learning curve in understanding the culture, the behaviours, and the thoughts about different things. But one of the things I found is that my classroom was often their safe place. My classroom was the one place they could count on someone being there to love them. I was a safe place for these kids.
Now as much as I loved being in that position, time would have me change again. This time, to a place where I wasn’t such a safe place. These kids did not need me (or at least felt like they didn’t). The attitudes were indifferent, the gratitude was gone. I really struggled at first to see how in the world I could make a difference when my students were convinced they had everything the needed.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t my first year that I figured it out. It was my second and my third that really opened my heart. I realized that maybe I wouldn’t be able to reach all students, even though I try. But there is at least one in each class who needs someone they can trust; someone they can break down their barriers and let them truly see the inside that they keep.
It broke my heart when the first student really let me in their life. The amount of background some of these kids hide is disheartening. It sometimes makes you wonder how they even function. It’s no wonder some of them put up a tough-front at school. Some of them are simply caught in that worldly struggle: the one where they are fighting between being good and doing what they know is right, and doing what the world expects and wants them to do. Absolutely the struggle gets worse as the generations get older. It’s sad in the very least, but it does, unfortunately, exist.
I witnessed something that brought this whole thing up in my mind. A situation that brought up a whole slew of memories.
One of my students is running for class rep in the upcoming school year. She’s an awesome student, wonderful in both academics and her Christianity. Unfortunately, she is one in very few that does not struggle with desires to be popular. She will not swear because others are doing it. She does not talk about inappropriate things because she has no interest. She knows what she believes and she sticks to it. She knows what is right, and that is what she does. And it has made her unpopular in her class.
Today, the vote was completed. And though she almost perfectly fits the description of the position she is running for, more votes were left blank than were voted in favour. My heart sank and my blood boiled a little. If there were legitimately good reasons for not letting her have the position, then I would accept that. But I know it’s because they are upset the one person they wanted to run wasn’t able due to his grades. Whether it’s an expression of bitterness or anger, is it right to decline someone that not only wants the position, but is ready, willing and capable of doing it well?
I don’t know what the right solution is. After all, voting is an expression of your opinion. But my heart aches in knowing that the reasons behind the reactions are wrong. And that bothers me. Someone who perfectly is capable of doing something so well, being held back by unpopularity, is wrong. It takes me right back to my whole philosophy of teaching, and that is that students are capable of more than they are doing, and standing up for those who don’t have as much of a voice.
I grew up in public schools where situations are much worse than I have ever experienced in my years of private school. I have seen “losers” beat up for simply not being good enough for others. I have seen the separation and isolation of those who needed the extra pull-out help and did not think like the others. I have seen students dragged from classrooms because they were acting out in anger about their situations. It’s not pretty.
One year, we did a fundraiser where the boys provided a lunch, and we bid on these “anonymous lunches”. When the bidding was done and every girl had her lunch, then the boys would reveal themselves and we would share lunch with them. I just happened to get one of those classmates that was always taken out for extra help, and who had problems with his anger, reacting from the situations he was in and the way he was treated.
I will forever regret the way I treated him.
I didn’t say anything mean, but that’s simply because I didn’t say anything at all. I was silent the whole time. And now I cannot even go back and apologize for being “snobby” because he was killed in a car accident several years ago (I think I was still in high school). That’s guilt that I have to live with, and guilt that started to change the way I reacted to people.
The one girl that was dragged from our classroom was probably the lowest person in our class. She didn’t always take showers, and she didn’t come from the most well-off family. In fact, I actually don’t know how she was treated at home. But what I do know is that people didn’t like her and daily made fun of her. I will never forget the one day she came up to me and told me that I was her role-model. I didn’t try to be anyone’s role-model, I just tried to talk to her and be nice when others wouldn’t. And look at the difference that made on her life. The simplest of acts I could have done, and it literally changed her world.
Now I’d like to say others followed, but they didn’t. I’d like to say her life changed for the best, but it didn’t. I did manage to get in contact with her again during university, sadly to find out she was pregnant and the baby’s father wanted nothing to do with her as soon as she became pregnant. As a matter of fact, he ran out with another girl and married her very shortly afterwards. And to make matters worse, he called social services claiming she was an unfit mother and had her baby taken away. In no way did her life get better.
I’m sad to say I’ve lost contact with her. My only method of contact no longer seems to work. I do pray for her, that things work out and she’s able to have her baby back in her life. I know she was fighting hard for him. But I pray God’s love surrounds her and God-willing, I will be able to connect with her again.
I truly, truly do hate the world treats people that are different – people that stand out from everybody else. I had the position of popularity and I misused it once. But I promise to do my best to never misuse it again. When a situation arises where someone needs a voice, I wish to be that voice for them, to stand up on their behalf. Just because you don’t think the same as everyone else or do the same things everyone else does is not a reason to be treated so badly. Stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. Make a difference in someone’s life. Even if it’s just one person you’ve helped, you’ve literally just changed a person’s entire world. Do what you can and don’t delay. You never know the good you can leave behind.
Priorities: They Can Be Hard
As many teachers will know, teaching can easily consume your life. It’s so much more than being present and teaching children. There is planning, grading, documenting, extracurriculars and so much more than goes into our job. There are so many hours we put into this job that we aren’t compensated for; that take away from our family lives.
It has become an issue with my husband several times. There are weeks I’m home late every night not because of grading but because of meetings and other things I was asked/told to be involved with which then leaves time at home where I’m tired, have housework to do and grading on top of trying to spend time with my husband. And when report card times come around, forget trying to talk to me the whole extended weekend. There is always so much to do.
An opportunity came up that I said I wouldn’t miss again four years ago. Work would be sending me for free. Spouses are also allowed to come, provided they pay their way. It’s an awesome opportunity. So naturally I signed up myself and my husband. The problem came up that my husband still does not have his papers and as we discovered last time, if he leaves the country again, he may never be allowed back and the years of work we’ve done so far will be thrown out. We just can’t take that chance again.
My husband would rather I didn’t go without him. I would be in a foreign country and he could not live with himself if something happened to me and I didn’t come back. I can say that I was mad at him for awhile. I was mad that he didn’t want me to go. I was mad that he couldn’t see this as the opportunity that I did. I was mad at him for being selfish. I was so mad.
But then I remembered and thought about (for a few days until it sunk in) that two mentors of mine, from the beginning of my teaching career, warned me: God first, family second, work third. It also struck me about a worship conversation we had at work one time where another teacher brought up about a marriage seminar where it was discussed that what God has brought together, let no man pull apart. I also thought back to the many marriage books and people I follow that have provided excellent, Christian (and for non-Christians as well) marriage advice where the best thing you can do is to respect your husband because in doing so, it will – whether now or eventually – show him how much he means to you and often will reflect a change in his behaviour towards you as well. Needless to say, I shouldn’t be mad.
I chose to undergo a mini-lecture about cancelling our reservations (work-related). I chose to take on the cancellation fees though I still haven’t heard how much that is yet. I chose to eventually be questioned over and over about why I didn’t go on the cruise (nobody aside from who needed to know, knows yet) and I will choose to defend my husband over the situation because he is simply my husband. I choose to respect his wishes. I know it is out of his heart that he wants to do as much as he can to protect me. Maybe I won’t get to travel. Maybe this may knock me out of my social-related situation at the school. But at the end of the day, my first mission is and always will be my marriage and if I can’t be a good steward of that, then I have already failed in a mission given from God. I’m not willing to do that. I need to be a witness for God to my husband and that is what I’m going to do.
I love my job, but I love my husband more. And so I do not hold a grudge but I choose to respect him. Although anxiety may come when I know the others are leaving for this trip, I will choose to remember that he was only saying it out of love, and pray for the patience and understanding that I need. God is the ultimate provider of that all-encompassing peace. ❤
I Hope One Day My Students Understand
It has been such an emotional week for me this week. After an incident that occurred last week, the decision was brought down from Academic Standards Committee as to what would occur as punitive and redemptive actions in this situation. Of course, I had to write the e-mail, and then answer the questions that later ensued as to what had actually occurred as well as the details of the final decision.
So far, parents have seemed understanding and supportive. It’s the students that I worry about the most.
I hope one day my students understand
The reasons why I had to do what I did
The amount of punishment I suffered with them
The fact that I wanted to erase the event and the consequences with it
The reasons why I couldn’t
The reasons why I had to follow through even when I didn’t want to
The reasons why I can seem so harsh
Only because I want them to see their own potential
I hope one day my students understand
How much I cared and wanted them to succeed
The tears I’ve cried and the time I’ve spent
The lasting effects of memories
I hope one day my students understand
That I tried to do the best I could
A year is short in the grand scheme of life
There is no time to waste
I have to do what I can each day
Even if it means correcting mistakes
I hope one day my students understand
That it wasn’t just to “get them in trouble”
My care is genuine, much deeper than that
I hope one day they’ll see it.
To any other teachers reading this blog: Do you ever feel this way? I’m finding truth in the fact that it’s usually the more difficult students, the ones you spend so much time trying to “fix” or “correct” that grow on you the most. Since I have no children of my own, these students essentially are my children. And I think that just makes it worse when things go wrong.
I know I’ll get through this, it’s just another bump in the road. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. It’s so hard not to reach out and want to take all of their pain and hardships away. It’s hard to watch them learn the difficulties of life. But you have to, or they’ll never learn the difference between what is right and wrong. And so it is my prayer each night, that no matter what happens, they’ll someday understand and see how much I care. I hope one day my students will understand…
Week 10 Day 6: A Bad-Happy Day
It was so nice to wake up and feel the relief of parent-teacher interviews being over. In a way, I felt free.
I had a chiropractor and massage appointment today, but my car is still not running. So I booked a taxi ahead of time, something I haven’t done in a very long time.
Because I booked my ride ahead of time, and had not fallen back asleep after my husband left for work, I noticed I actually had a bit of time to play with! Something I haven’t had in months! So I did a couple loads of laundry and took the time to call my French grandparents, my father, and my mom, stepfather, and brothers. I feel like I accomplished so much in that short amount of time.
I went to my appointments and got surprising comments from my massage therapist (chiro I think was a hair worse than normal). During the massage, the only tight place she encountered was actually in my arms, as surprising as that was. But she was not overly concerned about that.
After the massage, she asked me if I had been doing the stretch routine we had designed over the summer, and I told her that I had to be honest, and that I haven’t been as much as I should. She then asked if I had been working my legs hard, to which I told her yes especially after PR’ing my leg press this week. She looked at me strange and mentioned how this is the least tight I have been since starting my massages several months ago.
Together, we figured that my body was in fact being overstretched, even though I was almost religiously doing a 15 minute stretch routine everyday. Sometimes my body would regress rather than progress, and since I’ve given it a break, it’s actually progressed more. As strange as it sounds, that’s honestly what has been happening, and so she encouraged me to keep doing what I was doing while making sure to listen to my body. She was sincerely impressed.
I came home (another taxi ride) and shortly after received a phone call. Those neighbours that called about my dogs before to both our landlady and Animal Patrol? Well apparently they called our landlady again, but this time saying we slam our doors all hours of the night. Um, I’m a Christian school teacher who doesn’t drink, doesn’t party, quite honestly doesn’t have many friends in the area whom I go out and do things with ever, and realistically, the only thing I do is go to the gym. But slamming my door? And all hours of the night? I honestly don’t know what I ever did to these neighbours. I know this building is 50+ years old, and there have been several times where I’ve run to open our front door when it was only people knocking on our neighbour’s door. You can honestly even hear every time they run up and down the stairs. One time, we could hear the tv through the wall at 3 in the morning. I don’t call on them because I get it. I don’t expect perfection when the building is this old. But I am wondering if this is the same thing they’re calling me on. And my biggest thing is why they never even say hello let alone ask me about it.
At our school, when a parent has a problem, the principal directs them directly to us before she’ll step in. Why can’t a landlord do the same? I have never heard boo from either of my neighbours, except once to find out if we knew anything about the car being broken into, and once about the first flood we had. Not even when we’ve seen parties on their deck at early hours of the morning. I don’t understand…
This little incidence kind of shut down my progress with the house cleaning for awhile. And so when my husband got home, the only thing I wanted to do was to sit and cuddle with him for a bit. It was actually nice because I haven’t felt this free from school work in so long to completely dedicate my attention to him, rather than only half-listening to him while I’m working.
We went to the gym, and I’m telling you, I didn’t even have my regular coffee before the gym, but I smashed every back record I have! My single arm dumbbell rows went up by 5 lbs a side, my t-bar row went up by 10 lbs (husband encouraged me), and my reverse lat pulldown went up by 5 lbs. I was loving it!! And I even found my side planks significantly easier than normal. Oh how happy I was! Although I was burning from the inside, hoping that was the fat burning off! 😉
I went to bed fairly satisfied last night, just somehow need to tackle this neighbour issue and maybe consider moving…