Class Five

Okay, I so badly want to count the number of classes left - Class Six, Class Seven, Class Eight...on my fingers of course.  This gives you a little insight into one of Josh's pet peeves with this math teacher.  Why in the world would a math teacher be counting on her fingers?  Well, here's why.  If I know I have 12 classes left and this week is class 6, then math wise we can do 12 - 6, right?  That would mean we have 6 classes left.  Wrong!! We still need to attend Class Six, so really we have 7 classes left.  Because of this I always like to check on my fingers to make sure I have the correct number.  I do admit I HAVE developed the bad habit over the years to count hours or days on my fingers and so I am trying to overcome and not give in to my natural inclination to count how many classes we have left.  I'm not even counting fingers in my mind.  I'm simply trusting my brain that we have 7 classes left!  And yes, it is hard.  I feel like biting my fingernails!  Class Six, Class Seven, Class Eight...

Class Five was about discipline.

We are not allowed to punish foster children (no, we are still not planning to foster).

We are allowed to discipline children.

Punish means inflicting pain.  Discipline means to teach.

The one thing that keeps coming to mind when thinking about discipline and not being allowed to use spanking on foster children (whipping or throwing slippers) is that I have been a teacher for 13 years (yikes) and I have never had to spank one of my students.  I know there's a lot I could have done differently, been more encouraging, but I didn't have to take a one of them over my knee.  Ok, ok, so most of them are bigger than me, but the idea I'm trying to get at is I've had some practice in other methods to maintain order.  I'm not too worried about that.  What I AM concerned with is I have a desire to do more than maintain order in my house.  My desire is to raise (teach) children who will not just make good choices because I am standing over their shoulder, but because they have been taught to choose the good and want good for themselves.  That is the trick.  But I look at my parents; they were good.  I believe the biggest impact they had in my life is the good example they set in making good choices themselves. Hardworking: I don't remember as a child doing errands for my mother as she sat on the couch well-bodied.  Loving: I was always well cared for and never worried about my parents leaving me behind, not taking care of me, or disliking me (although I'm sure I tried their patience in that area).  Consistent: we didn't have a lot of rules, but we did know how to behave in public.  Godly: they were good because they had God in their heart. Plain and simple.  I guess when I look at that, it doesn't seem so overwhelming.  So out of reach.  So unattainable.

We received a really nice note from our adoption specialist.  We have a couple more weeks before we need to have our Adoption Addendum (a big packet of a lot of questions) into her and then we will have interviews.  I'm actually looking forward to this.  We each will spend about 2 hours with Jenn and she will get an in depth look into all the information they need to know.  Anyway, the note was commending our work in class.  Getting praise as the student helps me to see the necessity of it as a teacher, and a parent.

I'm starting to work on the nursery...pics to come soon! (That's my hook to keep you coming back. :) )