Inspirational Quotes

Two Months

My baby boy is two months old today.  The past two months have just flown by and I will soon have to go back to work.  Needless to say I'm not ready.  He is starting to laugh and smile.  He is more alert and he likes to play games.  I'm not ready to miss out on these things and all the things to come.  Two  months is just not enough.

Izzy's Journey

Eight different medications, two times a day and this precious little girl's kidneys are still failing.  Izzy has a rare disease where her body produces a harmful chemical that kills her kidneys.  She has been going through treatments for well over three years now and unfortunately nothing seems to be working.  By the time she is twelve, she will most likely need a transplant...if not sooner.  The sad things is is that her body will kill off her new kidney as well. Her disease may be killing her kidneys but it is not killing her spirit.  She is a happy, outgoing little girl with so much life in her.  Please help support Team Izzy.

Winter

Skiing
snowflakes
white
cold
snow
sledding
no school
Christmas
winter wonderland
blizzard
fireplace
snowsuit
snowball fights
snow angels
building forts
snowmen

Loss of a Family Friend

I remember the day we got her.  My dad had always wanted a boxer just like the one he had when he was a kid.  So, one year for Christmas my brothers, sister, and I surprised him with a puppy.  She was white, with brown spots and so ugly she was cute.  She was so playful and would run all over the thirty acres chasing rabbits and torturing the cows.  Yesterday my dad had to put down our beloved dog, Molly.

Personal Writing Narrative

 I must admit that I am not much of a writer.  I always wanted to be a writer and always admired people who seemed to write so effortlessly.  For me it is a different story.  I always struggled with writing, and unfortunately had too many bad experiences in school to deter me from ever enjoying writing. 

Much of my elementary, middle, and high school years were spent completing writing assigned by the teacher and completing grammar and punctuation exercises from a source book.  Our supplies consisted of paper, pencil, and a red pen to use for editing.  The teacher would give us a prompt, we would write for a day or two and then we would share it with a partner and have them help us with spelling and punctuation errors.  That was followed by a final copy that was to be turned in and graded.  These activities definitely served their purpose, but left out a major component…it did not encourage personal writing; therefore, I never felt like a writer.  In addition, the only feedback I received was a letter grade at the top of the paper with a comment saying good job or very nice.  Although I did not enjoy writing, those comments led me to believe I was at least okay at it.

            That was until one particular instance in my undergrad writing class.  I don’t remember the exact assignment, but it was some sort of folklore piece, retelling someone else’s stories.  I do remember how hard it was to come up with an idea and I battled with a few for several days.  It eventually came to me to drive back to my small hometown and interview the owner and waitresses of the small family restaurant I worked at in high school.  Being a mom and pop kind of restaurant where the old farmers meet everyday for coffee I knew there would be some great stories to tell.  So I packed my bags for the weekend, drove home and spent the day talking to the owner, the long-time cook, the customers.  By the end of the day I had a notebook filled with great stories of what has taken place in that restaurant over the years and stories of the people who dine there.  My whole outlook on this assignment had changed and I was now excited to write.  I went home and got started right away.  I spent days drafting, revising, reviewing my notes and trying to capture their stories the best I could.  I was finally done and I was actually proud of the piece I had written.  The next day in class, we shared our story aloud while others followed along with their red pens jotting down suggestions.  We did not have a choice whether we wanted to share or not.  Before going any further, I should let you know that the majority of the people in the class were in there because they wanted to be writers, journalists, and novelists.  I on the other hand was in the class merely to fulfill my credits.  After listening to several people share their stories, I was amazed at their abilities.  I however was still confident and felt good about the story I had written.  I’m not the sharing kind so I was nervous, yet a little part of me was excited to read them my story and to hear them laugh through the humorous parts and sigh through the sad parts.  There was no laughing, no sighing.  All I remember at that moment was reading my story aloud, looking up and seeing people marking all over my paper.  They were not enjoying it.  It was so hard to keep going and continue sharing when everyone clearly was bored with it.  And then worse yet, I had to sit there afterwards and listen to their reactions and suggestions.  They did not get it and they did not get me.  At that moment I felt defeated, knocked down, and run over.  I had lost all of my confidence as a writer.

            It has taken several years to gain some of that confidence back.  And even still to this day I would not say that I am a confident writer.  I can handle research papers, but don’t ask me to be creative or write anything personal. Luckily since then I have had more and more positive responses to my writing, teachers who inspire me, and readers who enjoy reading my stories. Writing is still an obstacle I need to overcome, but with every paper I write it becomes a little bit easier.  I can’t change the experiences in the past, but I can keep trying and hopefully I will gain a different outlook on writing in the future.

Writing Ideas

Brayden
Birth of first son
Strasburg Indian's football
Reading Recovery
Funny things my RR students have said
Journal of my days at home with Brayden
A poem or letter for baby book
Our new home
Great Grandpa's first meeting
Goals for the new school year
Newsletter supporting Team Izzy