This journey is full of twists and turns

We've all realized by now that if I turn to my blog to update everyone about something, there is probably a long story coming.  This post is no exception.

I'm sitting on my bed having just finished my lesson plans for the week.  It's the last time I will prep for teaching 6th grade reading this year, and perhaps for several years...or forever.  I really can't know for sure, because while we journey through life, it constantly takes twists and turns that we aren't expecting.  I'm currently in the middle of a big ol' turn that I really wasn't expecting right now.

When I moved to Texas, I struggled to get a new job.  I turned in my resignation in Oklahoma with no job prospects with complete faith that I would get SOMETHING when I got to Texas.  It was so much harder than I thought.  Honestly, I thought I was going to have it easy because how many people are LOOKING for jobs teaching life skills?  It's a hard job, not for the faint-of-heart, and I usually hear about people wanting out, not people wanting in.  It really is who you know and not what you know, because I finally got a job through my aunt.  She's a school nurse and she mentioned to her principal that I was looking for a job.  Within a week, I had an interview, a job, and a meeting with HR (another aunt) to sign my contract.  It was a whirlwind.  I wasn't teaching special ed, but I was teaching 6th Grade English Language Arts and Reading, and that was a monster I was semi-familiar with, although it had been a few years (five, to be exact).

So, even though it wasn't my preference, I faced it head on, determined to make it the absolute best it could possibly be.  I was teaching in the district where I started my education.  I work frequently with my own 3rd grade teacher who is now the dyslexia teacher for the district.  I had come full circle.  Plus, it had been mentioned that the life skills position on the campus would likely be available at the end of the year, and I would get my foot in the door for that position.

I'm not gonna lie.  Last year was hard.  One of the hardest years of my entire life.  I didn't love teaching reading.  I loved those kids, still do love those kids, but I didn't love my "job" and that was so hard because I left a job that I absolutely LOVED in Oklahoma to come here.  Before the year was finished, I had begun putting in applications and even had one interview, though nothing came of it.  On the last work days, I made sure my classroom was completely packed up so I could move in a moment's notice if I got a placement somewhere else.  Then, we got word that the district was making several changes.  I thought, "Well, maybe these changes are how God is answering my prayers for something different."

And so I stayed.  I unpacked my classroom.  I decorated (with all new decorations because I change them every year because I'm crazy like that) and planned and set up and tried to genuinely be all in for this new school year.  We started the first two weeks of in-service.  The first week was great, but by the second week, I was second guessing my choice to stay.  I could not get my heart into it the way I knew it needed to be.  I went and talked to our instructional facilitator (ugly cried, full on meltdown, bless her heart) and she asked me to give it a couple of 6-weeks periods and see if I could get into it.  I agreed.  After the first 6 weeks, I went to my principal and had the same conversation with her.  (The crying was not quite as ugly as it was the first time.) I loved these kids, but I did not love what I was required to teach or the way I was required to teach it, and if I couldn't love it then I really couldn't be the best choice for teaching these kids.  (Don't get me wrong.  I love reading, but loving reading and teaching reading are two very different animals.)  She asked me to search my heart and pray about it and see if I could get my heart where it needed to be, because she believes that at the end of the day, the students need a teacher who is in it for the kids, and she could tell that I did have a heart for the kids.  She gave me permission to try some new things in my classes.  Which I did, and it pumped me up for a few weeks, but it didn't last. 

Fast forward to nine days ago.  I made a pretty tough decision that Friday and took a resignation letter to my principal.  I didn't have peace about walking away from education (the state would sanction my license and I wouldn't be able to teach again until the sanction was lifted...at least a full calendar year), but I didn't have peace about continuing either.  I sat in my principal's office again, this time both of us shed tears, and she asked me to pray about a possibility over the weekend. She could make no promises, but thought she may have a solution to my problem that would be a solution to other problems as well.  So I went home, and prayed, and talked about it with so many people.

The last 9 days have been a complete and total WHIRLWIND of things happening.  First of all, the decision was made on Monday for me to switch places with the Life Skills teacher on our campus.  On Monday, the idea was that we would finish the semester in our current placements and start after the new year in our new classrooms.  We had basically nine weeks to get prepared to make this transition.  For the first time all year, I felt complete and total peace over this decision.  On Tuesday, I was called back to the principal's office where she told me that we were going to accelerate the timeline.  We were going to make the switch effective when we returned from Thanksgiving break.  Nine weeks just turned into three.  Wowza!  No worries, though.  My team is a powerhouse team, and between Friday night and Saturday afternoon, with all of their help, my room is basically go-ready for the switch.  (Now my Thanksgiving break can actually be a break! YAY!)

So, as I'm sitting here, I'm thinking about my last week as a reading teacher (for now anyways).  I'm a little sad, because I do love those 75 kids who I have spent the last 3+ months getting to know, but I'm so excited that the Lord worked all this out so perfectly to bring me to the place I need to be.  I can't wait to get back into my happy place and I'm excited to see how the students I've been teaching will flourish under their new teacher.  I think she will be great with them, and hope she will love her new class as I'm pretty confident I'm going to love mine.

Over and over through all of this, my principal has said that teaching has to be a calling, and that if it wasn't my calling then I need to take a step back and reevaluate.  I have always believed I was called to be a teaching.  I've been doing this education thing in some form since I was 17 years old.  As I sit here writing my mind just keeps going to the same verse, and I know that it's so true. I'm confident that I'm called to this and that it is His purpose for me.

When your attempt at humor turns into a blessing

I try to put a little humor into all of my posts on here.  In fact, I can only think of two posts that didn't have humor.  (The post about Dad's stroke and the post about the children who died in their schools during an Oklahoma tornado) Other than that, I try to get a laugh.

My recent post about my biopsy was no exception.  I used the fact that I wouldn't be able to be put into the good attendance drawing for free stuff as my laugh.  That turned into a blessing, but I'll get to that in a minute.  First an update about my liver.

First of all, I am not having liver issues as a result of alcohol consumption (It was asked...).  In fact, my alcohol consumption is 0.  Never had even a sip of an alcoholic beverage.  (Although, if my Papa Grouch were still here on earth, he would tell you otherwise.  Years ago, someone in my family thought it would be funny to put a beer can in baby me's hand and take a picture of me having a cold one with my Papa.  He used to like to bring that picture out to show people if I ever got too obnoxious.  If I were at my Grandma's, I'd dig it out to share it with you all, too.)
Anyways...

Today, I went back to the Gastroenterologist today to get my biopsy results.  There was good news and neutral news.  I don't think any of the news we got was necessarily bad.  There are three major indicators to diagnosing a patient with PBC and I have two of the three.
1) Elevated Anti-mitochondrial antibodies (AMAs) - 🗹
2) Pruritus (itching) - 🗹
3) Elevated Alkaline Phosphates - 𝥷

So, because I didn't have all three, he ordered the biopsy.  In simple terms, the biopsy was inconclusive.  Technically all of the tests came back negative.  However, because my AMAs were so high (not a little high; a lot high), he does not want to write the biopsy off as the final answer.  There are a couple of things that could have happened that explain the negative results.  The first is that we caught this so early through blood tests that no significant scarring has occurred to be visible in the biopsy.  The second is that the scarring may only be affecting the bile ducts and the radiologist extracted a sample that did not include bile duct and only liver tissue.  Either of those is still a good thing, because the earlier PBC treatment begins, the better the prognosis for the patient. 

So, instead of a definite diagnosis, we have a tentative diagnosis and a plan for moving forward.  We are going to treat for PBC.  Starting tomorrow, I will have two new prescriptions.  One specifically for the PBC and one for the itching.  (Also, I read this week that the absence of the itching can be an indicator that the liver damage is progressing towards cirrhosis.  Who would have ever thought I'd be thankful for itching?!?)  We will follow the treatment plan for six months, then I will go back for additional bloodwork and follow-up with the GI in April.  He will again look at the AMAs and the Alkaline Phosphates to see if the results make a little more sense, and to see if anything has changed after the medicinal treatment. 

So, overall great news.  We have a definite plan to move forward.  Now onto my blessing. 

I didn't get participate in either of the good attendance drawings last year. Homegirl was sick too much, plus I took off for two funerals, plus I took off when we moved.  Frankly, I am in awe of anyone who makes it through the school year with two or less absences, especially if they can do it while raising kids.  I salute you, teacher-parents!  But I did set a mini goal for myself that this year, I was going to be put into the drawing at least one of the semesters.  Well, I had to take a day early on for the first doctor appt, then the second half-day appt. turned into a full day, then I had to take off two days for the biopsy.  BAM!  Wiped out that 2 day goal in less than six weeks of school.  When I put that in my last blog post, I was looking for an angle to add humor.  What I didn't include in that blog post is that my current computer is a dinosaur desktop 7-8 years old, and it was second hand when we got it all those years ago.  Literally the week I posted about my biopsy, the monitor on the computer completely died.  Like the next day. I didn't include any of that because I wasn't actually trying to focus on the computer issues, just letting everyone know about my scary big needle hospital procedure. (THAT I WAS AWAKE FOR, BY THE WAY!!!) 

But I have some amazing people in my life.  On the morning of the biopsy, when my dad showed up to take me to the hospital, he was suspiciously carrying around this brown paper bag and wouldn't set it down while I was trying to finish getting ready.  (I wasn't running late.  Dad is always early.)  When I finally stopped to pay attention to him, he informs me that there were some people who read my blog, and wanted to do something to make biopsy day a little better.  He then pulls out a brand new laptop!!!  Seriously, God never ceases to amaze me.  Seriously, guys, I was just trying to be FUNNY, because humor is how I deal when I am stressed or scared, or sometimes even angry.  But God used that to let someone else be a blessing!

Look how pretty it is.  Yes, it's RED!!! I spent the whole day after the biopsy laying in bed being a wimp and playing on it.  I am so thankful for the generosity of the people in my life, and can never thank you enough for the gift! 

Thank you all for praying for my health issues.  I appreciate your prayers as we still don't really know what is going on.  Also, pray that the side-effects to these new meds are minimal.  The only one he mentioned is constipation (TMI! Sorry!) and that is from the one for the itching.  He actually mentioned that one of the medications was originally used to treat high cholesterol, so two birds one pill.  Hahaha!! 

Hopefully, I will do better about updating you on the life and times of the Baldwins and it won't be 6 months before I post again.  We'll see...

How I lost my chance at a free laptop

Anytime the Baldwins post a prayer request on Facebook, everyone automatically assumes it's Dad. (With good reason.  He's in the hospital so much that last year at school, a student told me he knows where I live because I live in his neighborhood in the house with all the ambulances.)  Anyways, Dad asked for prayers last week for a prayer request that was for me. We've kind of shared a little bit, but I figured I'd dust off my blogging skills and tell y'all a little more about what's going on.

We have a very thorough doctor. If he sees something suspicious, he's going to dig and dig until he figures out why the suspicious thing is happening. Because of my family medical history, and my health issues, I have to have lab work completed every three months ago he can ready stay on top of potential problems. On September 4, I went in for my quarterly visit. He noticed that my liver enzymes were high. They've been high before. When I lived in Oklahoma, I had to have an ultrasound and was told I had fatty liver. Really common.  Well, my doctor here wanted more information. The numbers kind of jumped up and down, and he wanted a clear picture, so he ordered additional blood tests and another ultrasound. This new round of blood tests included tests for hepatitis and for various autoimmune diseases. My half day off work became a full day as I went where I needed to go to take career of the extra tests.  His nurse called me Friday night to tell me there was an abnormality in my mitochondrial results, and I needed to schedule an appointment with a gastroenterologist. (Side note, she should have said antimitochondrial results, because googling mitochondrial diseases was real scary, and made for a very long weekend of wondering and worrying.) ((And yes, I know you shouldn't google medical conditions, but literally all the nurse told me was the aforementioned blood results and I had to know SOMETHING!!))

Anyways, I saw the GI specialist yesterday (9/10). I left feeling still kind of worried, but so much better than I did over the weekend. He gave me some good information, a probable diagnosis, and a promising prognosis.

I'll be honest. I don't know much about autoimmune diseases. I know they mean a person's immune system is attacking their body. I know I can list 5 of them of the top of my head (lupus, type 1 diabetes, crohn's, multiple sclerosis, rheumatoid arthritis). I could maybe come up with one or two more if I was really pressed to think about it.  But seriously, that's as far as my knowledge went.

I didn't know there are over 100 different autoimmune diseases, and I didn't know that some of them are pretty rare.  Yesterday, I was suddenly very interested in finding out all about autoimmune diseases when the doctor told me he thinks I have Primary Biliary Cholangitis. It's one of the relatively rare ones--1 in 4000. 65 in 100,000 women. 90% of patients with PBC are women. There is no apparent cause. It had not been linked specifically to any hereditary causes (although it is suspected as it does seem to show up in multiple family members).  It generally appears between the ages of 35-65 (I'm an overachiever).
What is it? It's an autoimmune disease that affects the liver. The antimitochondrial antibodies are attacking the cells and organs in the body. In this case, they are causing inflammation and scarring in the liver, which in turn causes damage to the bile ducts. When the ducts are damaged, thea liver backs up which eventually leads to cirrhosis.

In fact, it was formerly called primary biliary cirrhosis, and frankly, that's just the scary icing on top of the frightening diagnosis cupcake. Because what I know of cirrhosis is definitely not good. I know cirrhosis is an end-stage disease. I know that it has several causes, but let's be real, it's not the cause that's so terrifying it's the effect. It brings to mind words like transplant and organ failure. (I promise I'm not going to be Negative Nellie this whole post, just getting it all out there.)

So, what does that mean for me?  While he pretty sure it's PBC, the gastroenterologist saw some inconsistencies in my lab work, so he will not give a 100% certain diagnosis...yet. First, I have to have a liver biopsy. (Think giant needle going in and pulling pieces of me out.)  If the biopsy confirms the diagnosis, we start a treatment plan. PBC isn't curable, BUT it is very treatable with medication. In fact, the medications have advanced so much in recent years that many patients with PBC never reach the cirrhosis stage of the disease. And there earlier you catch it as start treatment, the better the prognosis. There are some symptoms of the PBC that are present. I don't generally feel bad, they are more just annoying. I mean, who knew itching could be a result of liver disease. Seriously, you can't imagine how itchy I get. I thought I was having allergic reactions to laundry detergent or fabric softener.  Doctors (and some family nurses) have asked if I'm vomiting. The stomach issues are there, just not in the form of vomiting. I think I'll just leave it at that. They also say fatigue is part of this, but I've been tired my whole life, so who knows if that's actually a result of this potential PBC. (Plus, here I am, blogging at midnight.) Haha!! 

The last 9 days have been crazy and stressful and a roller coaster of thoughts and emotions. I'm waiting on a call from the hospital to schedule my biopsy, then I will see the gastroenterologist again in about a month to follow up on the biopsy and get a treatment plan.

Thank you to those who have been praying and we welcome the prayers of anyone hearing about this for the first time.

Also, if you wanna know how I'm doing...
Right now, I'm more upset that all these appointments are taking me out of the good attendance drawing for great free stuff at work than I am about the reason for all the appointments. I know God has got his part under control no matter the diagnosis, but I really wanted that laptop.  My feelings may be different though, when I'm facing the procedure with the giant needle. That'll be my first time in the hospital as a patient since I was born. Plus, I hate needles. (Insert full-body shudder, here.)

Dad

Many of you by now have heard snippets or maybe even details about Dad being in the hospital this week.  We always try to refrain from doing a huge Facebook post until we have at least a little bit of an idea of what is going on.  It's going to be a long one, so I came here, instead.


In my last post, I talked about the reasons I was moving home, and one of the bigger reasons was that Kingfisher, no matter how much I loved the school and the people, was just too far away when something is happening with my family.  The last 37 hours have definitely confirmed that decision.


Our Sunday routine is pretty static--church, lunch, naps. Very rarely do we deviate from that "master plan."  This past Sunday, Dad stepped out of church during the invitation, but I didn't think much of it.  He is an usher and has various other responsibilities on Sunday mornings, so anything could have pulled him out of the service.  I was helping Mom clean the nursery after church when I got a text from Dad saying "Im going home not hungry take your mom"  He was deviating from the master plan, big time.  Of course, Mom's wifey senses were on high alert, and we went home to check on Dad before going to lunch.


Mom's instincts were spot on.  We found dad in bed, struggling to breathe, unable to speak, and unable to move.  It quickly became apparent that we needed to call 911.  The paramedics found Dad's blood pressure was extraordinarily high, but that didn't necessarily explain all his symptoms, so the decision was made to take him to the hospital.  He was admitted into the ER under Code Stroke.


Dad presented with all the typical signs of stroke.  Difficulty with speech, weakness in his arms and legs on the left side of his body, and facial droop.  However, CT scans came back negative for stroke, so he was sent for an MRI to take a more detailed picture.  Sometime between the CT scan and the MRI, he started having trouble with choking on his saliva.  A swallow test was performed and he couldn't failed at the very beginning with liquids.  No eating or drinking until a consult with a Speech Language Pathologist (SLP)...who doesn't work on Sundays.  He was admitted following the MRI, and we awaited results.


MRI results were also negative for a stroke.  Once in his room, his nurse (who is amazing, by the way), said that we were probably dealing with Transient Ischemic Attack (TIA) which is also known as a mini stroke.  I wasn't super clear on the difference between a mini stroke and the real deal, but the amazing nurse explained.  A mini stroke has all the symptoms of stroke, but they will typically go away on their own within a a few days.

This morning we started early with a visit from the neurologist.  She did several bedside tests and agreed that while this isn't testing as a stroke, it's very likely TIA.  We would have to see how he improved to determine if more testing would be necessary.  (We'll find out tomorrow if he needs another MRI.)  During her evaluation, Dad was able to raise his left arm higher than he has since this event started, the same with his leg.  With Dad, anytime he has some major health event, there is always something that "stumps" the medical professionals.  In this case, it is Dad's difficulty with speech combined with weakness on the left side of his body.  Those two functions are handled by different sides of the brain, so they are usually not experienced together.  Speech difficulty usually accompanies right side weakness.

After the neurologist, we met the Physical Therapist.  She made Dad sit on the side of the bed on his own, put on his special hospital socks by himself, walk him down the hall (with a gait belt and a walker), and sit up in a chair for a few hours.  My Nanny and I noticed improvements just during that short little trip.  Her goal is for him to walk out of there on his own.

Around noon (that's 28 hours since dad has had anything to eat or drink), the speech pathologist arrived to evaluate and complete a second swallow test.  She also is commented on the oddity of his speech and his left side.  He failed the second swallow test, so scheduled a Modified Barium Swallow Study (MBSS).  This is basically a swallow study that involves a "moving x-ray" that allowed the SLP to make sure when Dad swallowed nothing was getting into his lungs.  He passed the MBSS, and was finally allowed to have some water around 3pm.

The occupational therapist (deals with fine motor skills) came while most of us were at lunch.  She also agreed with the probable TIA diagnosis.  I'm not sure what all else happened with her visit, as I wasn't there.

Dad got to eat supper!  A full 33 hours after his last meal.  The most exciting part is that he was able to eat the entire meal without choking.  A major improvement from the previous day, when he couldn't even swallow his own saliva.   Praise the Lord!

The last part of the medical team who we saw today was a sonographer who performed an echocardiogram and a doppler on his throat.  We will find out tomorrow from his cardiologist what the results of that are.

Dad has made major improvements in the last 37 hours, but he still has a long way to go.  He is very determined, and keeps telling us that he is trying hard.

We definitely appreciate all the prayers, texts, calls, and visits.  There is a peace of mind in knowing that we are surrounded by so much love and prayer.

Thank you to all the therapists I've worked with for the last 5 years.  You've provided me with knowledge that helps me to understand what the PT, OT, and SLP are doing and saying, helping my family understand as well.  That little bit of knowledge I have gleaned from you has proven invaluable to me this week.

We are also so appreciative of the staff at Medical City of Denton.  The entire medical team has been amazing, and just prove why my Dad keeps coming back.

Keep watching Facebook for more updates, and keep those prayers coming!

Hello Again

Hi, there!

It's been a little while since even I have visited my blog.  Does anyone still read them?  I'm not sure, but this has always been a place where I can come and just get out what's on my mind.  So here I am, three years later.

It's been a crazy three years.  Since my last post in February of 2014, a lot has changed.  The camp where my family lived and worked for 15 years was closed, which motivated my parents to make the move back to Texas closer to family.  However, the move closer to family took them farther from me.  I stayed in Oklahoma.  I loved my job and things would just play out better if I stuck around a little longer.  So, in the summer of 2014, I packed up all my belongings, put them in storage, and took a trip to Canada to spend time with my best friend before she got married.  When I came back stateside, my family all lived in Texas, and I was homeless.

I moved into a tiny house just days before I began my third year of teaching special education in Kingfisher.  Did I mention I love my job?  I work in a classroom that intimidates most people.  We deal with things on a daily basis that would make the average person a bit (maybe a lot) queasy.  But you see, the biggest struggle leads to the biggest reward.  Working with these kids has been the most rewarding experience of my life.  I wouldn't trade the last five years for anything.

I'm getting ahead of myself.  During the three years that Mom and Dad have been hours away, some big things have happened.  In September of 2014, Dad had a massive heart attack.  I was three hours away getting texts and calls from Mom and Josh, and falling apart because I couldn't be there.  I was stuck in Kingfisher, with pneumonia by the way.  They decided to do open heart surgery, and I took my sick self on a three hour road trip to Texas.  Dad had a quadruple bypass, and came through it like a champ.

In August of 2015 (the day before school started), Dad had another huge medical event.  I will do a post about that soon, because our God is a God of miracles and everyone needs to read that story.  Needless to say, they did not expect my dad to survive, and brought the family in to say their good-byes.  While the family was preparing for the worst, I was making a 4-hour drive to Plano to try and make it to where they were.  Thankfully, things did not play out the way the doctors expected, and dad came through it again.  Later that same week, my great-grandmother passed away.

Fast forward to this year.  In November, my mom's stepdad, the man who raised her, my Papa Grouch, passed away unexpectedly.  In February, my last remaining great-grandparent, my Papa G, also went to heaven.

All of these things have made me realize one very important thing.  I want to be closer to my family.  The distance did not seem so big in 2014 when I moved into my tiny house and prepared to make it completely on my own for the first time in my life.  But the distance seems far greater when you are racing to get to a hospital "in time."

This has led to one of the hardest decisions I have made in some time.  This week, I turned in my resignation letter to Kingfisher Public Schools.  There is a lot of controversy surrounding the education system in Oklahoma, right now. So, I'm going to make one thing very clear. I am NOT leaving Oklahoma because of my salary.  This does not mean I'm happy with my salary. Oklahoma teachers are woefully underpaid and something needs to be done, but that's not why I'm leaving.

I've said it twice already.  I love my job.  I hate the paperwork that seems to be ever-increasing and I hate the politics involved in education.  I love my students. I love the people I work with.  I love knowing that I am making a difference.  The staff and students I work with have become my second family, when my real family is so far away.  I was emotional when I turned my letter into my principal; I was emotional when I sat at home that night thinking about it; I was emotional the next morning when I saw that my position had been posted for the next school year.  I don't think it's going to get better as we get closer to the end of the year, and I have to say goodbye to these people who have been such a huge part of my world for the last five years.  I'm not looking forward to saying goodbye.  I'm not looking forward to the change of a new school, new colleagues, and new students.  (Nevermind a new state with new laws.)  In spite of all that, I have complete peace that this is the right decision for this time in my life.

So, I'm facing a lot of changes, and I'm not great with changes.  When I pulled up my blog, I realized my camping theme wasn't really accurate anymore.  If everything else is changing, might as well change this, too.  So, I did a "redesign."  Deciding on a name change was difficult, but I read this quote and felt it was a pretty good place to start.  "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." (Lao Tzu)  My journey is not technically a thousand miles, but it's sure going to feel like it.  It can be overwhelming to look at it all in a big picture and all the decisions that have already and still have to be made, but I can make it if I look at each single step.  So, this is the first step of my new journey.  I can't wait to see where it takes me!

Bow the Knee

When I was in the 8th grade, the high school choir at Windsor Hills Baptist School sang a song that I absolutely fell in love with.  I still find myself singing it all the time, almost thirteen years later.  It never fails that when I start to stress about things and let worry get the best of me, that God reminds me of this song and where I need to be in the midst of all this worry, and that is on my knees.  I don't know that I'm necessarily stressed, but I've had a lot of things on my mind the last few days and this song keeps coming to mind.  Since it's always such a blessing to me, I thought perhaps if I shared it, it would be a blessing to someone else as well.

BOW THE KNEE

There are moments on our journey following the Lord
Bow the knee;

Where God illumines every step we take.

There are times when circumstances make perfect sense to us,

As we try to understand each move He makes.

When the path grows dim and our questions have no answers, turn to Him.

Bow the knee;

Trust the heart of your Father when the answer goes beyond what you can see.

Bow the knee;

Lift your eyes toward heaven and believe the One who holds eternity.

And when you don’t understand the purpose of His plan,

In the presence of the King, bow the knee.

There are days when clouds surround us, and the rain begins to fall,

The cold and lonely winds won’t cease to blow.

And there seems to be no reason for the suffering we feel;

We are tempted to believe God does not know.

When the storms arise, don’t forget we live by faith and not by sight.

Trust the heart of your Father when the answer goes beyond what you can see.

Bow the knee;

Lift your eyes toward heaven and believe the One who holds eternity.

And when you don’t understand the purpose of His plan,

In the presence of the King, bow the knee.

Once Upon A Time...

Once upon a time, there was a girl who thought she had time to blog regularly.  Well, as it turns out, she doesn't have all that time she thought she did.  Or...maybe she has the time, but doesn't really have anything interesting to share.  I haven't posted since the spring when I {apparently} made people cry after the tornadoes.  So, I'll try to catch you up from then to now.

~CAMP~
We had a great summer at camp!  We had a few new churches come this year, and during one week, we were literally bursting at the seams.  The Lord really worked and so many decisions were made.  No rest for the weary, though.  We are already planning for next year.  Here's the theme we've come up with!  We are getting excited about it and hope everyone else is, too.  {I will do my best to put up a post with more details about summer 2013 soon.}

~WORK~
I started back to work in the middle of August.  I was super excited to start this school year.  This time, I was going into the new year knowing what I was walking into.  Last year, I felt like I was going in blind.  I have two fewer students this year than what I finished with last year.  That means there are seven boys.  I have the same amazing aides and could not have asked for a better team.  We have received a few small grants in our classroom.  One of them was a Pets in the Classroom grant.  We are now the proud owners of two Australian white's tree frogs.  We feed them crickets and meal worms {much to the disgust of my aides} and one likes to climb in fake trees, while the other likes to hide in the dirt.


~LIFE~
The most boring section of this post.  The Baldwins are doing great.  Mom is back to work part time.  Dad is, as always, busy with camp things.  We went to Austin a couple of weeks ago to watch the Longhorns play Kansas State.  They won!  In case anyone missed it, they also won this last weekend against that team that was "unbeatable."  Just in case you missed it.  My very best Canadian friend, Mandy, came down for a visit this past weekend.  She was in a wedding in OKC, and we had hoped to get one night to spend together, but it just didn't happen.  We spent all of Sunday together which was great!  Then she had to leave again, so it was a short but good trip.  Much to my dismay, I didn't get a single picture of us together.  Sad day.  I won't get to see her again for probably a year...at her own wedding most likely.  Growing up is rough stuff.

That's all I have for now.  Look for more detailed posts about some of the things I glanced over in here...or don't.  But in any case, thanks for stopping by!

A Teacher's Broken Heart

F5 Tornado
May 20, 2013
Moore, Oklahoma

Yesterday, I closed the door on my classroom for the last time this school year.  My classroom was cleaned and my materials were locked away.  My walls were bare and white.  I had planned on coming home and posting a happy little blog post about how great my first year was.  I got in my car, went to Sonic for my mom and her boss, then headed to Wal-Mart listening to the weather warnings on the radio.  When I went in to Wal-Mart they were watching a storm with possible tornadic activity.  When I came out, less than an hour later, I was listening to reports of damage and destruction that had hit the town of Moore, Oklahoma.  Out of all the reports I was hearing--they were all heart-breaking, the ones that stood out to me were the two reports about schools where students and teachers were trapped.

Briarwood Elementary School

Plaza Towers Elementary School

I bet just about any teacher out there has complained at some point or another about the number of drills we are required to have every school year.  Weather drills, security drills, fire drills--they all are things that take out of our instructional time.  We complain because that is time that could be spent learning, and it is hard to get the students back on track after a drill.  I have an added complaint because in my classroom, drills are emotional every time.  My students don't like their routine changed.  They do not like having to be in small places.  They don't understand that we are practicing for a future potentially dangerous event.  We generally have at least one meltdown during any given drill.  I dread having drills.

Yet, in that moment, hearing Kelly Ogle talk about the numbers of people trapped inside those schools, I was so very thankful for every drill I have ever had the PRIVILEGE to take part in.  Of course, drill cannot possibly prepare us for every circumstance.  It can't be guaranteed that circumstances will play out how we planned them to.  They do, though, provide us with some semblance of preparedness that allows us to act with a level head when disaster occurs.

The longer I watched and listened, the more I began to try to put myself in those teacher's shoes.  Especially when the reports came about the seven children who were lost at Plaza Towers.  Teachers catch a lot of flack.  While I know that there are some teachers out there who are not the best, I truly believe that the majority of teachers are in those classrooms because they love those kids.  I call my students "my kids."  The plaque below says it all.  When I tried  to imagine myself in those teacher's shoes, I felt such a real and powerful sense of grief.

I know--I am absolutely certain--that those teachers are grieving so hard.  I'm also sure that many of them are dealing with a certain amount of guilt, blaming themselves for the little lives that were lost yesterday, even though I am sure that they did everything in their power to keep those babies safe.  I know they are praying just as hard as parents, friends, and strangers all across the world that there will be no more casualties at their school.  So today, I am praying for the families who lost everything, including loved ones, the rescue workers still digging through debris looking for victims, for the thousands of people all over--not just Oklahoma--but the whole country who are rallying together to help the people of Moore, Oklahoma.  But I am saying a special prayer for the teachers at Plaza Towers Elementary School from my broken teacher's heart to theirs.

Teachers carry students from
Briarwood Elementary School

Teacher carries student from
Briarwood Elementary School

A teacher hugs a rescued child
at Briarwood Elementary School

Becoming A Quilter

I recently decided I wanted to be a quilter.  Yep. Just like that.  I found a super easy tutorial for a crib sized quilt, and attacked it.  I was able to finish it in a week, thanks to mom's embroidery machine, that also machine quilts. 
Here's the link to the awesome tutorial at Magpie Quilts.  

Livin' Like a Pioneer

So, the big bad snow storm came through this past weekend.  What was originally forecast as slight flurries reared its ugly head as a full-blown blizzard.  We had 13 straight hours of rain followed by 13 hours straight of snow and crazy wind.  Somewhere in the middle of all that, our electricity went out.  It was 1:45pm Monday when they performed their final flicker and shut off.  Mom and I were home alone, but Dad was coming later that afternoon/evening.  It's now Friday night.  That means we are working on the 5th day of no power.  Now, it's really not as bad as it could be.  We have a fireplace.  We have a generator.  What we don't have is lights, hot water, and major appliances used for cooking...oh! and a heater.  The refrigerator is plugged into the generator so as not to lose the groceries.  Being without the "amenities" makes you learn about yourself.  Mom and I didn't have the amenities for the first day.  The following are some of the things I have learned about myself:

1) I am hot-natured person.  Even with no heat, I have only being "freezing" once or twice through the whole ordeal.  {And that may or may not have been while I was running around in the previous mentioned blizzard to a) check on the chickens, b) take pictures of said blizzard, c) put phone on the charger in my car, and d) call the goofball dogs in from running halfway across the property to play in the snow.  Because, obviously, the snow 400 yards away is a million times better than the snow right by the house.}  Anyways...I digress.

2) Mom and I could TOTALLY rough it...{for awhile}.  We had no idea where the generator was.  Even if we did, we didn't know how to run the sucker, so it really didn't matter.  We lit a couple of candles, broke out a package of hot dogs, and roasted away.  We also played UNO until the dimming lights made it impossible to distinguish between blue and green.

3) I am really, REALLY not interested in taking a freezing cold shower.  I have had to do it before.  I lived in an RV for a couple of years and it happened.  But the thought of taking an icy cold shower then having to walk into a severely cold house just wasn't something I looked forward to at all.  So, I put it off as long as I could.  Surprise, surprise!!!!  There was enough hot water sitting in the tank for all three of us to take a hot/warm shower.  {So, I took one.  Now I'm dreading the next.}

4) I'm not a sock-wearer.  One night, my toes felt frozen solid.  When I went to bed I put socks on.  I'm still not really sure where they are.  All I know is they were not on my feet when I woke up.  I think I'm like Pippi Longstocking in that respect.  I like my toes to be free to wiggle and breathe. {I also don't like the covers to be tucked into the bottom of the bed.  Makes my feet feel claustrophobic.}

5) My mom and I are hilarious.  Not just a little funny.  We could have our own comedy routine, and become very, very famous.  Famous like Larry the Cable Guy...or Jeff Foxworthy.  {Or not.}

Anyways, the darkness is closing in and typing is getting a tad difficult.  And I think it's my turn to grab a log for the fire.

Will Work for...Carrots?

Remember back in the day when your parents would want you to do something, and they'd offer you some small reward?  In our house, my dad would request a 30 minute back rub for a penny a minute.  Gee, thanks, Dad...a whole thirty cents.  As we got older, the price per minute got higher.  First, to a nickel, then a dime...until today.  I think if he asked for a back rub, I'd probably look up the going rate for a half hour massage, knowing he wouldn't pay that, and get out of it.

So, I said all of that to ask you this.  What motivates you?  There are very few people who are willing to do something for nothing.  I'm not really talking about doing good deeds.  I'm talking about doing work, of any kind.  Like just about everybody else, my students do NOT like to work.  Those creative little guys come up with a lot of ways to get out of work.   From picking the absolute longest song at circle time (Apples and Bananas...Jacob picks it every time.  It has a two and a half minute introduction that involves a grown man singing "banana" with a mouth full of banana.  Classy.), to crawling into a "safe place" and falling into such a deep sleep that a train could race through and he'd still sleep through it, (Kody does this often.  He snores, too.  Like an old man.  He sleeps like the dead.), to running away (see "Kason" in A Day in the Life).

They find so many ways to get OUT of work, that we have to really work hard at getting them to work.  Out general go-to is treats.  Candy, juice, cookies--that sort of thing.  Some of them will only work for those things for a minute or two.  They get distracted easily and move-on quickly.  One of my boys will do anything to be able to use the iPad for a minute or two.

We were working on an experiment with Pedro the other day.  It was the experiment where you put celery and carrots in colored water and compare how water travels through the two different plants.  We could barely get the veggies in the jars without Pedro trying to take a bite out of them.  He successfully chomped a carrot before we could get it in the jar.  1 out of 6.  Not too bad.

We had some other work to do, so since he seemed to want them so bad, we cut up a carrot and a celery stalk to use as a reward for working.  He worked fantastically well for me.  I was so impressed with how hard he worked for veggies.  Would you work for a carrot.  When you were in high school, would you have done something for a carrot?  How about when you were ten?  Let's say that you were a hypothetical multi-kazillion-aire, and didn't have to work if you didn't want to.  Would you for a carrot?  I know I probably wouldn't.

If there is one thing I have learned from being in this classroom for the last 18 weeks, it is this:  BE THANKFUL FOR THE SIMPLE THINGS.  I get so busy that I forget to see the seasons change, Jacob notices each tiny change to each tiny leaf or blade of grass.  I talk all the time, and quite honestly, many times, I talk about nothing.  Wasted words.  In my classroom, we celebrate words--spoken words, signed words, written words.  I walk down the halls everyday with complete faith that the floor--carpet, tile, wood--are going to provide the stability to take the next step.  One of my boys is terrified to cross thresholds.  Switching from carpet to tile really throws him.  He has to be coaxed onto the tile, and he holds onto the wall like a life-preserver as he goes.  He is also scared to get off the school bus.  The gap between the last step and the concrete curb is traumatizing to him.  I never even think about it.  I never go to bed wondering if my arms will still work in the morning.  Eric does.  When we're on the playground, he will sometimes look at the kids in the other classes and say things like "I used to play soccer, huh?"  or "Kristen, remember when we walked to the park?  I used to walk, huh?"  It's heartbreaking.  As his muscles continue degenerating, he will eventually lose use of other limbs beside his legs.  I wonder sometimes if he goes to bed at night thinking about it.  Will tomorrow be the day?  We take so many things for granted every single day.

I am so very thankful for the opportunity to work with these boys.  They have taught me to appreciate every single thing in the day.  Even the bad days have many things to be thankful for.

The more I think about it, the more I think that were I the hypothetical multi-kazillion-aire, I would like to think that I would still go to work every day.  I love {almost} every second of it!

A Three Day Weekend

I was soooo ready for the three day weekend.  I had grand plans for what I was going to do...I didn't do any of them.  There's still a few hours, though.  We'll see what happens!  (Probably nothing!)_

A Monday is a Monday is a Monday

Today was my first official Monday as a teacher.  I feel like saying it was Monday should be description enough.  I mean, seriously, who really does Mondays.  I sure wish I didn't have to.  Apparently, some of my students don't either.  We had some serious meltdowns, today.  Wowza!  "Weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth" is a actually a most accurate description of our Monday.

During some of our most intense moments of meltdown, our new speech pathologist came for a visit.  Poor woman.  We really did not make a very welcoming group.  I also had a visit from the local VoTech because some of her LPN students complete practicums in our room.  Nothing like finding out that you're getting "observed" in your second week of school!  I did manage to talk her into coming in after our students were dismissed.  YAY!

Overall, I am just glad to have survived my first Monday.  We did actually get to work with some of the kids one-on-one and it was pretty productive.  We are still short one aide for another week, so we are stretched a little bit thin.

Looking forward to another great week.

Thanks for reading!

Day One

Day one is over.

The morning was a little crazy.  Our students all arrive at different times, and after picking kids up from the office, meeting parents, meeting the bus from Okarche, eating breakfast, and taking morning restroom break, we finally got class started around 9:30.  We started with music, which the kids LOVE.  Then we had a period of work, followed by a short "station/center" time--playdoh, math games, train sets, and books.

Then we went to lunch.  WARNING:  grossness to follow!!!  The lunch ladies must have decided to really initiate me on the very first day, because we had spaghetti.  MY GOODNESS!!!!  If you can survive spaghetti lunch day in the multi-handicap classroom, you can handle absolutely anything.

I learned several things during lunch today.  First of all, spaghetti is better eaten with your hands, even if your teachers cut it up to bite-sized pieces and load it up on your fork for you.  Also, green beans shouldn't be eaten at all (I kind of agree with this.  I don't like them, either).  So, if your teacher feeds you a forkful of them, the best course of action is to spit them  back into her hand, along with the particles of spaghetti that may still be there.  Something else I learned is that if you don't like grapes, if grapes in fact are a gag-inducing fruit to you, it is perfectly ok, acceptable even, to eat the stems instead, then laugh maniacally while your teachers try to pick them out of your mouth.

After lunch, we did some more work, while the the aides and I rotated eating our own lunch.  Then some more centers before our 35 minute recess.  After recess, we have snack time and clean-up.  Then it was time to go home.  Our students dismiss about a half hour before the rest of the school.

All in all it was a good day.  We're getting a new student tomorrow.  Another boy!  We'll see how it goes.

Tomorrow's the Day

Well, folks, tomorrow is the day.

Tomorrow, I will have my first official day as the multi-handicap instructor at Kingfisher Heritage School.  I am INCREDIBLY nervous, but I am also SUPER excited.

To tell you a little bit about my class (while maintaining confidentiality)...

I will have ten students ranging in age from Pre-k through 10th grade.  These ten kiddos represent a wide range of abilities and special education categories.  They are ALL boys.

It was a little overwhelming to sit down with the previous teacher to gain a little history on the students.  Thankfully, she is still in the building.  She moved to a different aspect of special ed.  She has been a great resource so far.

In addition, I was told early on that I will have four amazing aides.  I have had the opportunity to meet two of them and work pretty closely with one of them.  After that time with Sharon, I will concur that she is AMAZING!  This will be year twelve for her in the multi-handicap classroom.  She is familiar with the students and their learning styles, discipline needs, and personal/health needs.  However, even with her years of experience, she has been emphatic that I come in and take control of the classroom.  She told me she was a little worried the first day I met her that I would let the aides walk over me.  She's gotten to know me a little better, and I think she may just have more confidence in me than I do in myself.

I will definitely face some major challenges and it will without a doubt be a learning experience for all of us.  I'll be sure and let you know tomorrow how my first day went!

Thanks for reading!

Just Call Me Doubting Thomas...Part 2

On Thursday of that same week, I got a phone call from another school in that same district, an elementary school.  My mom knew the principal.  I didn't call him back.  I had a job...at the middle school...that I didn't want.  On Friday, I got a phone call from another district around the Metro.  This one closer to Edmond (Oooohhh...upscale Edmond...almost Edmond.  Deer Creek...it's upscale, too.).  I took that call, and told the lady I wasn't interested.  I had a job in Putnam City.  (That I didn't want.)  


Why were all these schools calling now?  I had applied weeks ago, and heard nothing from them.  I was pretty frustrated with them for calling and giving me options now, after I had decided that I was taking the middle school job that I didn't really want.  {Mumble, mumble, complain, grumble, gripe}


I tried to contact my new principal again on Tuesday.  On Wednesday, I was getting ready to prepare lunch for the guy staff members that were out here working to get ready for camp to start.  As I was walking out the door, my phone rang.  I checked the number, ready to reject the call, and realized it was a local number.  There is not a single person out in this area that has my phone number.  It wasn't either of the numbers I had used to contact Mrs. Wolf before, so I knew it wasn't her or the high school.  Curiosity got the best of me and I answered it.  


I took the most interesting of phone calls then walked out to the then-not-completed-zip line to talk to my dad.  The conversation went something like this...

"Dad, I--"
"We are eating lunch at the house.  Sorry I couldn't answer the phone."
"Ok, but I need to tell you--"
"We're trying to get this all finished before lunch in case the wind picks up again."
"Ok, but Dad, will you listen.  I got a job interview."

Now, I should mention here that my dad was really not a fan of the job in the city.  He really wants us to move home.  So the conversation continued...

"Yeah, I know.  You got a job at Putnam City at that Middle School.  You're mother told me."
"Dad, I don't have to interview for that job.  It's mine.  I have a different interview."
Dad finally pauses...
"Oh.  Where at?"
"Kingfisher Heritage School."

Dad then acted a little crazy and may have danced a little jig.  He was obviously excited.

I went to an interview at Kingfisher Heritage with the new principal, Kathy Kadavy.  Turns out, special ed teachers weren't the only thing that was being shuffled around in the district.  Principals were too.  I had a great interview with Mrs. Kadavy.  She made me feel really at ease and we talked about a lot of things.  She gave me a tour of the school and told me that they still were not sure where the position was going to be, but now knew it was going to be in the High School or the Heritage.  She sent me to visit the superintendent.  That had to be good, right?  


Mr. Sternberger is the superintendent in Kingfisher.  He asked me some questions that had already been asked by the other three that I interviewed with.  He asked me if I had a preferred age group.  I decided to be honest and tell him that high school terrified me.  He laughed and said they would keep that in mind.  I decided to be even more honest and tell him that I had a job offer at another school.  You know, that middle school position that I didn't really want.  He promised I would get a call sometime the next week.  


We had a small gun training and safety/security camp out here that week.  I jumped to answer my phone every time it rang.  I didn't hear anything all week, and was getting worried again.  Obviously, my faith runs out quick.  Not something I'm particularly proud of.  


We were dropping off people at the church on Friday afternoon, my friend Mandy was telling one of the staff members about her impending deportation back to Canada and the resulting marriage to one of our guy staff members to avoid said event, and I was following Amy Vineyard down the hallway while I waited on my mom and Mandy.  My phone rang. It was another new number this time, still from around Kingfisher.  I answered it (while Amy watched).  


Mrs. Wolf was calling to tell me that I had a job.  IN KINGFISHER!!  The very place that I just knew wasn't going to ever have an opening because teachers stay until they die (sort of).  Not only that, but I got a job in a position that DEFINITELY was not going to be open.  A job that I really didn't interview for.  I am officially the new teacher for the Multiple Disabilities classroom at Kingfisher Heritage School!

Kingfisher Heritage School

I don't know why I got that position that was DEFINITELY not going to be available.  I don't know if that was just how the rearranging worked, or if it had something to do with my having student taught at The Children's Center.  I do know that once again God showed me that I had no reason to doubt.  I spent a week being miserable and discontent because I was blaming God for "making" me take a position I didn't want.  I do so need to learn to rest on His promises.  The biggest one being that He will work all things together for my good.  

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

~Romans 8:28~

Just Call Me Doubting Thomas...Part 1

What makes us as Christians doubt?  It really is the most illogical thing if you really think about it.  God proves Himself to us time and again, yet if given the opportunity we quickly revert to doubting his promises to us time and again.  It makes me ashamed of myself just thinking about it now.  He has given me no reason to doubt Him, but I always do.  Let me tell you all about how God proved Himself to me one more time...

Even though I graduated in December, I didn't start job hunting until around April.  Partly, because I was finishing the school year at KIPP, which of course led me to meet a bunch of amazing little 6th graders.  Also, because there were some major issues with my transcript and degree that had to be rectified first.  (Many thanks to Dean Robinson and Darla Demo for all of their help in getting that straightened out!)

When I started making applications in April, my first desire was to apply at one of the rural schools close to Loyal so that I (and more importantly, my mom) could move home full-time. Unfortunately, in these little country towns teachers tend to stick around until they retire, and even then, many of them still work part-time.  There seemed to be no openings anywhere around.  I was discouraged, but not completely surprised, so I started applying at some of the "better" districts in the Metro.

I filled out tons of applications online and didn't hear anything.  I attended a district's career fair, and even interviewed with the assistant director of special services.   I was sent to that interview with glowing recommendations from my current boss at KIPP.  She happens to be good friends with the HR director, and the Special Services director.  I got a phone call from the Special Services director a few days later where she promised me a job based solely on the recommendations she had received.  I had mixed emotions about that.  I got one other interview from a specific school in that district which turned out to be filled by someone in district.  Then I didn't hear anything for weeks.  

I kept checking websites for job openings, kept applying, but overall was really disappointed.  Honestly, my heart really wasn't in it.  I wanted to move home.  But not only were there not any openings around home, I wasn't getting any offers anywhere else, either.  I was beginning to think I had been lied to.  The whole time I was in school, everyone kept telling me what a commodity Special Ed teachers were and how in demand we were and how we would have lots and lots of job offers.  I had zero.  Sigh...

On the first day of May while I was scrolling through the job openings, I decided to go ahead and disappoint myself one more time by checking the openings in those little rural schools close to home.  Boy, was I in for a surprise.  When I clicked on that little "Employment" link that for the last month had posted nothing but openings for a Spanish teacher, speech pathologist, and art teacher, I was quite surprised to see a posting for a special education teacher.  What?!?  Where did this come from?

I think it took me about thirty seconds to whip up an email to send to the address listed.  The email I got back listed three positions that were POSSIBLY open.  The district knew for certain someone was retiring, and planned on rearranging the current SPED teachers to accommodate that, but would still need to hire another teacher.  I played phone and email tag with the Special Services director for a few days before I finally got a call for an interview.

If you know anything about me, or have read this silly blog for any length of time, you know that I like LITTLE kids.  My degree is in Elementary Education and Special Education.  My interview was at the High School.  YIKES!!  I met with the Glenda Wolf, the director of Special Services, and Sammy Jackson, the Principal of the high school.  The interview went really well, much better than my first two (although that wasn't hard to do).   They told me about their predicament with the rearranging of the teachers and told me that I would receive a call from one of them soon, when they knew what they had open.  They also made it very clear that it seemed as if the SPED position was probably going to be at the high school. They even asked me if I was willing to take the secondary Math certification test.   


Mrs. Wolf also took me to the 3rd & 4th grade school, Kingfisher Heritage, to show me the multiple disabilities classroom.  This position was DEFINITELY not open, but she new I had an interest in that classroom because of my experience at The Children's Center.  (Small world, she taught at The Children's Center for 18 years.)


I didn't hear anything for a while.  So, my disappointment and doubting started all over again.  On Wednesday of the third week in May, I received a call from the SPED director at that other district--the one that promised me a job because of my glowing recommendation--to tell me that they were placing me at a middle school.  The job was mine for the taking.  


I wasn't excited.  At all.  Why not?  I wanted a job, right?  And to be perfectly honest, during the weeks that I didn't hear anything from Kingfisher, I had talked myself out of working there.  I certainly didn't want to work with high school students.  The thought of teaching high school scared me out of my wits.  I got so worked up over it that I sent my sister a text at 2 o'clock in the morning telling her that I had made up my mind to take the job in the city, even though it was going to really disappoint my parents.  Having a job in the city now that I didn't really want was better than waiting for a job in the country that I also may not want.  


I decided that's what I would do, take the job in the city.  I went so far as to add all of their calendar events into my personal calendar so that I was ready for the year.  I tried to contact my new principal to set up a meeting.  (Because I was "placed," I had never even met her.  No interview required.)  


It was settled, but I still wasn't completely happy.  To my doubting little mind, I had been failed.  God just didn't want me to move home.  He didn't want my mom to be able to move home.  He didn't want me to get out of the nasty, old city.  He wanted me to teach middle school in Putnam City.  Sigh...

The Art of Being a Fan

Sometimes--very, very, very rarely--I have obsessive tendencies that when combined with Facebook, Twitter, blogs, etc. could be considered stalker-ish.  Please know that to truly consider me a stalker would be a major misconception.  It's all quite innocent...really...I promise.  (Fingers maybe crossed.)

Anyways, one person on whom my stalking curiosity has been focused is Ree Drummond--The Pioneer Woman.  You may remember me talking about her back in March of last year.  Since that time, she has released a children's book...

...and a second cookbook.

She is currently doing a book tour for "Food From My Frontier."  I've been counting down the days until she hits OKC.  It happened this last weekend. 

She was scheduled to be at Full Circle Book Store.  First, let's talk about a little bit about Full Circle Book Store.  It's absolutely amazing.  It has floor-to-ceiling bookshelves...really tall bookshelves.  The bookshelves are so tall that the bookstore has ladders on tracks so you can reach the books on the highest shelves.  It is very much like a scene from one of my favorite Disney classics...Beauty and the Beast.

One cannot very well be in a place that is prime real estate for a Belle reenactment and not take advantage of the opportunity.  So we did.  ("We" being my stalker curious friend and fellow Disney-lover, Rachel and me.)

(Note to self:  Add Beauty and the Beast to my movie queue.)

Back to Ree...

The "event" did not start until 1:00.  However, Rachel and I knew that her events have a tendency to draw big crowds, so we arrived a little before 10:00am when the doors opened.  We were almost the first people there.  Almost.  We just missed having front row seats to the shindig, but we were gracious and didn't cause a riot to get those prized seats.  Later, we were glad we restrained ourselves.  The people who took the front row had driven all the way from Conway, Arkansas to see Ree.  They deserved the front row.  I guess.  (There were also people there from Childress, TX and other places miles and hours away.  It made our drive to Norman last year seem like nothing.)

The signing started with a short, hilarious presentation by Ree, so we began our morning in the mall outside of the book store.  Hundreds of chairs were set up in front of the stage.  After sitting there for around an hour, we heard rumors of these things called line tickets.  Panic set in very quickly.  I had agreed to watch a sweet lady's things behind us so she could visit the ladies' room, so Rachel took off for the store to see what these tickets were all about.  She came back with two bright orange strips of paper with 8 printed on them.  "What does 8 mean?" you ask.  Well, 8 meant we were in group 8.  Guests were split into groups of 50.  That's right, even though we were the "second" people there (There were 10 people in the group in front of us.  So really we were people 11 & 12.), we would have to wait for 350 other people to see Ree first.

Hmmmmm...what do two girls do when they are waiting for 350 people to get their books signed?  Well, let me tell you.

First, we just sat around debating what to do.  Then, we explored 50 Penn Place.  There isn't much to explore...especially on a Saturday.

Then, we decided we were thirsty.  The cafe inside Full Circle had the LONGEST LINE EVER...plus you had to walk through the hundreds of people in the signing line.  Our next best solution???  Penn Square Mall is right across the street.  Penn Square Mall has a food court.  So, we went outside to go to Penn Square Mall.   As most of you know, parking at Penn Square Mall is ridiculous.  So, we decided to walk...across this six lane street.  Yes, that's right.  We risked our lives for a milkshake from Chick-fil-A.  It was sooooo worth it.

We also risked our lives getting back to Full Circle.  I think it may have been more dangerous.  We were trying to preserve our shakes and our lives.

On our return trip, we discovered the most wonderful thing.  It was Ree's car.  Parked right by the entrance with a little orange cone that said "Ree Drummond Reserved."

 This got two obsessive stalkers fans pretty excited.  PHOTO OP!!!!

We noticed someone had written notes on the back of her car.  Please note:  we are NOT vandals.  The following was already written on the vehicle!!!   (OK, so maybe I wrote the "I" the rest of it was already there.  I also look a little deranged...but I swear I'm not.)

We went back inside and found these chairs that had a perfect vantage point to people watch.  We had a good time watching people meet Ree.  She is so kind to everyone.  Even after hours of signing books and smiling for pictures, she still took the time to have a little conversation with every person who came to her table. Took this one during that time...They had just started group 5. 

Group 8 finally started to line up around 5:30.  We had been at 50 Penn Place since 10:00am.  So were clocking 7.5 hours at this point.  We got in line behind the nicest two ladies who we chatted with for the next little bit.  One of the ladies had recently been on Martha Stewart!  WHOA!!!  Two famous ladies in one day!! We started measuring our progress by our distance from the front door of the store. We were getting pretty close here...this was I think about 6:00. 

The people in line around us also decided at this point that Rachel and I must be pros at Ree's book signings.  At Ree's signings, she passes out sticky notes so you can write a name on it for her to personalize the book.  We had predicted this event before they ever handed out the stickies.  We also knew where she would sign and that they were going to request that we "flap" the books so that they would open directly to the correct page.  "Flapping" is moving the dust sleeve inner "flap" to mark the page where the book should be opened to.  We learned all this from the one other signing we had been to last year.  We didn't mind impressing everyone around us with out expertise, though.  Plus, we knew if the people in front of us were prepared it would be that much quicker that we got our turn with Ree. 

As we neared the front of the line and could see her pretty red head, one of the nice ladies in front of us said, "I bet she takes a restroom break right when we get to the front of the line."  She was right.  Right when it was their turn, Ree sweetly asked if we would allow her to take a quick trip to the ladies room.

This was one of the nice ladies in front of us.  Ree really liked her hair.  She said she is scouting a new hair-do.  However, she needs one that can be thrown into a pony tail.

Then it was our turn.  She really is one of the nicest people ever.  I would be really cranky after 4.5 hours of signing books.  She still smiled her pretty smile and signed her pretty signature.  She also did me a little favor!  Yay me!

A couple of weeks ago, she informed us all through Facebook that their was a typo in the book and would we please cross out the mistake and draw a little heart from her.  After she signed my book...

I asked her if she would mind fixing the recipe herself, and she did!!

So, I now have my very own HAND-EDITED copy of Ree Drummond's new cookbook.

I feel very privileged.  My book is probably a one-of-a-kind. 

That's all for now.  Thanks for reading!