It’s funny how things change.

It is strange how you can go from being so close to someone to being a complete stranger. I know that times change and people drift apart, but going from being so close to just nothing? And no attempt to salvage anything. No questions asked as to why? No hint  as to a reason. I must’ve meant very little in the first place. 

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Insecurities

I have many insecurities and I think I always have. I don’t know how we develop these – nature or nurture? I am certainly the least confident out of my sibs, I certainly don’t take after my mother. My father is very sure of himself too, just in a less obvious way to my mother.

I remember going to a fancy dress party when I was in the infants (so under 7). I went dressed as a Hula dancer – grass skirt, bikini top, lei. I remember thinking that I should not be wearing that outfit, I was too fat.

I spend too long trying to analyse what people think of me and it dominates a large amount of my life. I rarely eat in public (outside of a restaurant) because people will look at me and think ‘like she needs to eat!’ Even eating in restaurants make me think of what people think – especially f it is ‘all you can eat’. You may think that those kind of restaurants make a loss when I walk in, but actually I will probably eat less because everyone (in my head) is counting how many trips I have made and looking at just how much is on my plate.

A lot of my insecurities do revolve around my weight, but it is not strictly limited to that. Am I doing a good enough job? What does my boss think of me? My colleagues? My children’s teachers…?

This lent, I am trying to be more positive to I have taken to trying to affirm my good points when I wake up of a morning.

What affirmations do you have?

Rebellion

So, on a previous post, I mentioned the fact that I was slightly rebellious and that was the reason why my posts aren’t perfect, despite being a teacher.

Firstly, I feel that everyone is entitled to make mistakes, but some people less so than others. Teachers are expected to be perfect in many aspects – the way they write, the way they speak (for example).

Sometimes, I just want to be lazy. Sometimes, I don’t want to proof read, sometimes I don’t want the correct vocabulary – I want to write as I might talk when feeling relaxed.

Secondly, I want to rebel. For may years, when you had to sign rather than just wave your card at a machine, I would sign my last name with a lower case letter! Very, very naughty!

Manners cost nothing

Or so they say. I am actually surprised by the number of people for whom basic manners and respect of others is totally lacking. It does concern me that people are now becoming more self centred and don’t think of the big picture, namely how people feel when they  are spoken to in such a disreputable manner. I don’t believe that respect should be earnt. I believe people should have respect for each other at the beginning, rather than go into a situation assuming the person hasn’t got your respect yet.  That insinuates that you disrespect them until they have done something to earn you behaving towards them in a respectful manner. I believe that repsect can be lost. Imagine it to be like a video game characters health bar. When they do or behave in a negative way, it loses them health points.

Speaking to people politely, having respect for elders and those in a more important position for yourself, seems to becoming a lost art amongst the young (and yes, I realise this makes me sound old!). Which does make me wonder for the future. 

Insomnia

  1. Will I have enough money to last until payday?
  2. Will work be OK tomorrow?
  3. What was that noise?
  4. Can I be bothered to get out of bed and turn the fan on?
  5. Can I be bothered to get out of bed and got to the loo?
  6. Could my husband snore any louder?
  7. Will Ofsted come in this week?
  8. What was that noise?
  9. Shall I do some work?
  10. Have we got any observations this week?
  11. How long before I have got to be up?
  12. Can you stop asking questions?
  13. Do you think listing will help?
  14. What is that noise?
  15. Am I going to see that parent again?
  16. Where are my headphones?

Why can’t I sleep?!

Where are they now?

I have been teaching now, for what seems an age; I am in my 16th year of teaching. (I will write another post at some point about my rebellious streak in terms of writing the way I do, despite being an ‘educator’). I have had somewhere in the region of 400 children pass through my hands. I have seen many things; the poorest, the sweetest, kindest, rudest, the most ill-mannered. Some names have completely fallen out of my head, either through their behaviour, personality or attitude. Other names have stuck – again for the same reasons. There is a reason my son is not named Ben (this was the name I was always going to name my son since I was young)- class of 2003/04 put paid to that!

My feelings towards my classes have varied greatly, from complete love and protection all the way up to cartwheels on the last day of term.  My favourite class has to be my very first class in 2000. I graduated from Manchester Metropolitan University and was employed at Haveley Hay Junior School (although it amalgamated in the year I joined). I started work in September 2000 and my first class was Year 3.  They were completely adorable. I suppose there were some characters, but I can never really remember having a problem. I remember receiving constant praise for how wonderful they were. When the last day of term came around, I cried. They cried. We were all a mess.

I often wonder where they are now. They will be 23/24 – making their way in the world and may well have children of their own. I think of G, the nigh on bald headed little boy who would send me little notes telling me how much he loved me; J, who was scouted for Manchester City when I was his teacher, despite him being a Manchester United fan. An amazing mathematician, he often had me in stitches – I remember whizzing through a spelling test – “Once, Twice..” with J chiming in with “…three times a lady!”; T, who I would berate about her handwriting (I feel so terrible about it now,  but it was so unreadable at times, she had such great ideas that I just couldn’t access).

I have become so jaded in my teaching that I wonder what I was like back then. Was I relaxed? Did they think I was terrible? Did they love me as much as I loved them? Where are they now?

Lent

Today is the first day of Lent. I am not overtly religious but was brought up on the periphery of religion (CofE primary, Girl guides and church parade etc). One of the things I remember my father doing, when I was young, was the whole Lent thing. Dad would give up a variety of things, including sweets. Whenever we had money for sweets (20p every Saturday – we could go to Mary’s) we would always offer our parents one and so, during lent, these sweets went into a bag that my dad got at the end of Lent. I would give up carrots and yogurt and generally anything I didn’t really like.

As an adult, I have participated in Lent. Again, not really for the religious reason but for a show of willpower, a conscious effort of being able to achieve something, to show I can do without. I have done a variety of things in the past, the most memorable being giving up things beginning with the letter c; the idea being that lots of ‘vices’ begin with the letter c (Chips, crisps, cake, coffee, coke… I got to include carrots again!)

Many people think that Lent should not just be about giving things up, it should also including doing more. For me, this lent is about giving up chocolate, crisps and sweets and it is about doing a few things more. Firstly, I want to move more. I have become incredibly lazy. For a while now, I have hidden my laziness as efficient. It is more efficient for Neil to fetch up the toilet roll if he is downstairs and I am up, it is also lazy of me not to go down and fetch it myself. Secondly, I want to make sure I am a lot more positive; I am going to start 40 days of being positive via FB, Twitter or here.

I hate the dentist

I think that statement is probably quite a common one. I have huge dentist issues and have ever since I was a child, mainly because of the experiences that I had.

As a child, at the dentist, it always seemed like I was in trouble. I had the constant lecture about not eating the wrong foods, cleaning my teeth. Each time I went, I had to look at the ‘bad teeth’ picture. Each time I went, I needed something doing – usually teeth pulling because my mouth was ‘overcrowded’. God knows how many ‘extra’ teeth I had because it seemed that each time I went, I left with fewer teeth. One of those occasions was when I needed fitting for a brace, and the mould stuff was left in my mouth a little too long and out popped one of my teeth with it. Add to that fillings without any anaesthetic and my nightmare is complete. I didn’t even completely neglect my teeth either! I cleaned twice a day, didn’t eat loads of sweets, had sugar free juice (if not water) and fizzy pop was a once a month treat; walking the previous months empty bottle down to the Baker’s Arms on a Sunday with my dad is one of my happier memories.

I do go to the dentist. It takes a while – usually 3 or 4 attempts to book an appointment, often have to resort to my husband to book it for me. I spend the days leading up to it worrying and then the day of the appointment panicking. I sit in the waiting room crying and have the work done through tears. Time before last I had a full blown panic attack and they had to stop for a break half way through.

I do believe that people can either be blessed with great teeth or weak, and I certainly have the latter. I have lost my wisdom teeth and each pregnancy came with some problems – lost tooth, cracked teeth, fillings. In fact, the pregnancy that I lost was preceeded by a visit to the dentist to have a tooth removed which then resulted in an infection. Part of me still believes that this could have been the cause. Maybe I will blog about my angel baby in more detail another day.

With my last baby, I had a craving for peaches. Half way through my pregnancy, biting into a peach, I forgot abut the stone but my front tooth didn’t. It chipped. I have spent the best part of the last 4 years having it filled. The filling will hold for about 3 months, will need replacing, will last a year, will need replacing, last 3 months, need replacing, last a year. I have now reached the end of the road with this treatment. I need a crown. “You can either get a crown or walk around with a gap,” said the dentist on my last visit (yes, he knows I am scared, no he doesn’t know the full background). I am currently walking round with a gap, plucking up the courage to have a crown, saving the money for the work to be done. Not sure I will ever be brave enough.

The end is in sight

Tomorrow is the last day of half term and so I get to have a week ‘off’. This has been a particularly challenging week at work – was on the receiving end of some verbal abuse at work, which has left me feeling empty and sick to my stomach. I am looking forward to having some time to recharge and regroup.