"Heaven has it, Ms. Castro!"

I love innocence in 3rd graders. Earlier this week we were doing a pre-assessment so I could see what my students knew about South Carolina. I asked the following question: "Where can you find rows of beautiful homes?" And my sweet (annoying too) but oh so sweet Mitchell said, "HEAVEN!" Bless him. This made my heart sigh and smile.

Where is our innocence? Don't you miss the days as a child where you were carefree and you just DO things without thinking? My childhood best friend Katie had that carefree innocence. She just did what she wanted to do, didn't think about the consequences. Her dad was a contractor so we were always exploring new homes and doing things we weren't supposed to do. One day I jumped in a mud puddle and got my new tennis shoes allllll muddy. They went from blue to orange. Katie's mom said,"Did you think about what would happen to your new tennis shoes?" We replied, "No. We just thought it would be fun." Of course, we didn't get in trouble because we were always too sweet. :)

Now it brings me to present times. A group of us went to Turtle Back Mountain to hike the waterfalls. Of course, being with Steena, I HAD to jump the cliff. Part of me was like, "Just do it. If you were little with Katie, she would have pushed you off this cliff." Then another part of me was thinking, "Ok, what if I don't jump far enough out? What if I get pushed by the under current? What if I hit bottom and get hurt?" But you know, after much debating I thought, "What do I have to lose? Jump." And I jumped (after 10 minutes of swinging back and forth). And what a thrill. I loved it. But I can only do that about twice a year. Too mcuh anxiety.

Faith like a child. I doubt a lot of things, especially when I'm not sure if it something that I should embark on or not to embark on. I question a lot of things. I worry too. Not tooo much but I do stress over things that others think is too small. But what's small to them is big to me. Does anyone else ever want to scream, "You just don't understand!!!" And sometimes they never will. That's when you need to go by yourself, take a deep breath, and just work through. Look at me giving advice when I sometimes have trouble doing that.

But on the contrary, it's also good to have someone say "I completely understand." I have never met a teacher that relates to me more than Robin does, my mentor teacher. Last year I had a few cries (what first year teacher doesn't??) and she would just come in and say, "I completely understand. I did the exact same thing my first year." And I know she would understand because she's a teacher. It's just those that aren't teachers that offer their advice that honestly, I really don't care for it sometimes.

"inch by inch is a cinch. yard by yard is hard." words for my dad (ha.) actually, this was when my dad was wise and didn't flip off the deep end. and it's true. I tend to look WAY ahead instead of what is now. Am I the only one that does that? Hope not... For example, this whole ADEPT thing is stressing me. Because not knowing what is going on and when they are going to "pop" in drives me crazy. But one day at a time...

Ok I went from the topic of innocence to just plain rambling. So I'm going to shush now. I'm going to go make a flipchart, my new hobby. I might add that on facebook!

Castro Cafe--Ole!

It's a new year. A new school year and some new beginnings. A lot has happened since my last blog. Let's recap, shall we?

I have passed my kids onto 4th grade. The last day was kind of bittersweet. I do miss them. Alot. And of course, I get overwhelmed with hugs in the lunchroom. Bless their soul. I hope I prepared them enough...

Josh moved in for the summer. It was an....experience I guess I could say. We learned a lot about one another. We definitely had our highs and our valley lows. But in the end, we're working on it. We love each other. Period. Ok, enough. Don't need to get too personal.

Mom is looking like a hot chica. Bom-chica-wow-wow.

I have a guinea pig!!! Gwinnie the Guinea. He is precious! A little skiddish, but I know this animal will bring lots of memories and laughs.

I GOT A BIGGER CLASSROOM!!!

New kids, new class. And I'm loving it. I have sooo much space. God bless my little workroom from last year. But it is not meant for a classroom. I have 20 kids this year. 10 boys and 10 girls. I have a sweet class. Very dynamic. They definitely won't compare to my kids last year. These kids are different but I like it because I have them from the beginning! I can train 'em my way at the beginning of the year. So far we haven't had any major encounters. Well except a couple...

2 kids flipped out of their chairs today in the lunchroom-in front of the principal. I guess I just need to plaster on my forehead KEEP ALL FOURS ON THE FLOOR.

Some can't follow directions so that resulted in tickets being pulled which equaled tears and tantrums on the floor. Geez. Grow up. You're in 3rd grade. That's not flying in my window.

Oh surprise! I joined a softball league. Let's do it together...GASP. yeah I know. s Elaine, my mom's friend said, "Um have they seen you run??" Candice got me to join it with her work which I recruited Valen. We played our first game Monday and I looked like a hardcore wet rat when we were done. But we won! Whoo-hoo! That called for celebration at where else? A MEXICAN RESTAURANT. Which led to Jake telling us his tales of his past pets--a rabbit that lived on his balcony for God knows how long; 2 beta fishes that he tried to get to fight but never did; and some random spider story. Still don't know what that story was about. But I had fun. We're hitting the batting cages this weekend. I like finding new hobbies!

Well, it's crazy storming here. And you know what that means--sleeeeeep. I met Josh in Gaffany tonight for dinner and wow--we were g-ross when we finally met up. But we had a good time. I'm glad he still thinks I'm beautiful with stringy wet hair and makeup running down my face.

Ok and I promise to blog more about my classroom experiences. And life experiences. Reading on my past ones last year has really made me smile and laugh.

goodnight world.

"But it's not wet Ms. Castro!"

Today felt like Monday to me. Yesterday felt like Tuesday to me. And I sit here and I can barely type I'm so tired.

Today was "one of those days."

It all started with L.W. came in pouting (I'll put initals to protect identity) because her shirt was "way too tight" and her hair was all in her face. Trama time! So I had to console her. A few minutes later, Z.R. walks in pouting about something too. Who knows with these kids? And then within 5 minutes, P.F. has a scratch on his arm from where C.B. has "accidently" scratched him. Then I have my lil J.V. saying, "Do I do this?" in her broken accent. Bless them all. And my soul.

With in 15 minutes I have gotten Z.R. to drop whatever attitude he has and get started on his work, L.W. talking to the guidance counselor, and J.V. started on something more of her level. And I have 5 minutes to myself to check e-mails.

At the last minute before getting started, we rearrange desks. Boy, this took 30 minutes. My kids were at each other's throats because they had been in the same seats for so long so they needed a change, and so did I. So we move about and getting situated. I came up with an arragement, but it's no the best--it'll do.

Next, SCIENCE! I am not really liking this whole Soil unit. As Gail said, we should write a letter to the idiot who came up with the idea to do all these "soil tests" with our kids (wetting soil, clay, and humus; smearing soil, clay, humus on paper; making balls with soil, clay, and humus). Well today, we put them in TEST TUBES. That's right. Test tubes. With water to see how they "settle." Well, before I know it, a test tube had exploded on J.C. which ended with clay all of her pants. Z.R. and Q.L. had added water to the cups instead of the test tubes so they had cups of wet clay all over their desk and hands. H.S. is hitting B.W. because he's not doing the experiment correctly. And then H.L. and K.G. have an overload of water in their test tubes which has drowned out their desks. And I had no paper towels. CRISIS. A classroom without paper towels is like not having toilet paper to wipe your butt--it's difficult to function without it!

After a few crazy moments, we get our test tubes in the cups, our desks cleaned up, and we're writing in our journals. For now at least.

Math was fine. Nothing too difficult about making a picture of a garden with different plane figures. But this whole concept of "parallelograms" blew their mind. We'll do more practice tomorrow.

YAY FOR MUSIC TIME! I had a 40 minute break to rest my body.

Then, we head to lunch which always holds the most excitement.

It was pretty calm (after breaking up a few disputes over who sits where) until I was finishing my lunch and talking to sweet J.V. who was telling me about her brother "betraying" her father. Then, poor C.J. comes up to me with a spit ball in her hair. I only needed one guess: Z.R. This is not the first time he has done spit balls. I call him over and he instantly has this, "Crap, I'm in trouble face." I ask him what he has been doing with this straw. This is our conversation.

Me: "Z. What were you doing with your straw?"
Z: "Shooting spit balls across the table."
Me: "why?"
Z: "Because I was bored because you wouldn't let me use the bathroom."
Me: "Well, do we spit spit balls at lunch?"
Z: "No, but it's not wet Ms. Castro! They were dry!"
Me: "Who cares if it was wet or dry!! The point is you don't do that!"
Z: "Yes ma'am."

I walk over there and there are at least 15 spit balls on the floor and one in K.G. hair. Sick. He lost his whole recess for that.

Honestly, my kids are a bunch of crazies. But I love them most days.

We're just the crazies in the small classroom at the end of the 3rd grade hall. Chances are you can hear us all the way from first grade (Which I've been told has been done before).

Goodnight.

Aggrivation to the extreme

Goodness. Talk about aggrivation to the extreme. And frustration. And anger. And hope at the same time.

It has been DRAMA central here at the Castro household. But you know, what's new with that? I have just been so frustrated with dad. It's ridiculous. He's REDONKULOUS (I only use that word when it's horrific). He's taking things where it hurts. I know they are only materialistic things but it's not right.

I honestly have a good piece of mind to show up at his office and just punch the snot of out of him? Can I do that?

I could but I'm not.

I hurt so bad for my mom. I hurt to see her like this. And I hurt for my dad because he's a looney bin!

But I have hope because I know that each day is one day closer to God's peace and grace.

But come Wednesday, it's going to a face to face interaction. Just wait and see.

It's just a moment...

...and time will pass.

I have to keep telling myself that. It has been a moment for the last 3 weeks I guess. It has just plain sucked. It's been almost surreal with everyting going on. Somedays I don't really think that much about Dad, but then there are other days where I am driven to tears that I can't hold back.

I put on a front that "I'm doing ok." But you know what, I'm not ok. I'm ok with the fact that he's left us for someone else. I'm not ok that he thinks that this is an okay lifestyle to lead. I'm not ok with the fact that he didn't call to wish me Happy Birthday. I'm not ok with the fact that he has lied to us. Im not ok with the fact that this is happening period.

But you know what I'm ok with? I'm ok with the fact that I know I'm going to survive. I'm ok with the fact that my mom will become a better woman because of this. I'm ok with the fact that I have absolute amazing friends and family who surround me with love and support. I'm ok with the fact that God is working through this relationship and family. I'm ok.

I stood in my dad's closet and I thought to myself, "This isn't happening. This is NOT happening again." But it is. As I touched my dad's sweaters and took in the smell of "him" I kept telling myself that the dad that raised me is dead. He's gone.

The dad that drove me to piano every week is gone.
The dad that taught me how to fly a kite at Milliken is no longer here.
The dad that would take me to Wendy's and to the library every week is gone.
The dad that dressed me and fixed me breakfast every morning in elementary school won't be doing that anymore.
The dad that taught me how to drive (and navigate me around SPTBG) is no longer available to call upon when I get lost in Greenville at 11:30 at night now.
The dad that left me roses on Valentine's Day and birthdays by my bedside won't deliver those now.
The dad that teased me about not knowing how to clean the swimming pool won't offer his sarcasim anymore.
The dad that always treated me to Pizza Inn for a "good dinner" won't be my dinner date anymore.
The dad that raised is gone. Not here. Not present.

I know this may sound so "pitty" but let me wallow. I haven't wallowed that much, well except for the occasional cry every week.

But I will say this--I will miss his dern good pancakes.

Welcome to Ms. C's Mini Classroom!

As I type this reflection, the past week and a half swirls through my head. It’s Thursday evening and I have not even had my 18 third grade students for a week so far. The past week has been nonstop. My feet hit the ground and I have not stopped running, planning, decorating, or smiling.
I think about all the emotions I have experienced in the past week and many of those emotions are still fresh. The excitement, nerves and butterflies, frustration, tiredness of working 12 hours a day, and being anxious to get started still overwhelm to this day. Part of me hopes it never goes away because it shows that I am continuing to grow and learn as an educator.
I think about the adjustments I have had to make from going unemployed, not even sure if I wanted to teach this year to being put in a third grade workroom with less than a week to prepare for my classroom full of kids with very little material. I also think about the adjustments my students have made and how well they have done the past week. They went from getting attached to one third grade teacher to being moved into a new class with new classmates and a first year teacher who deep down was just as nervous and scared as they were this time last week. Now we have built relationships with each other and continuing to learn from one another. Our classroom is finally beginning to form into “Ms. C’s Mini-Class.”
I think about how amazing the staff and employees at Roebuck Elementary has been. Since the first time I stepped foot into my old stomping grounds, constant smiles, hugs, help, and encouragement has been offered. From the principals and assistant principals stepping in to make sure my needs are met to the teachers giving me supplies and helping me decorate my mini classroom to the custodians who are there until 7:00 with me reminding me that a door will be unlocked for me to leave when I’m ready. Who could forget my amazing team of third grade teachers? Instant bonds have been formed with them over lunch and after school conversations that included chocolate that I have stored in my classroom. I always felt welcomed to Roebuck Elementary when I was a student there, but this is a different welcome. This is a “Welcome! You’re part of the Roebuck Staff now!” A week later and I’m still having staff and teachers stop by to offer help and welcome me to the school. They have made the transition so much smoother than I ever expected.
I think about all the things I have learned at Winthrop and how I am going to put them into effect. I think about the teaching techniques I should use and strategies I need to implement into my classroom. Performing my best as a teacher has been instilled in me for the last four years of my education career. My desire to achieve that yearns daily as I prepare lessons and materials. I think about my wonderful professors I miss so much and think, “If Dr. Norton was in here watching me read to my students, would he approve? If Dr. Evers saw me teaching this lesson, would she give me an A for my variations of teaching so that I’m accommodating all learners? If Dr. Ingram were in here, would he tell me I should be sterner with my students? And if Dr. McNulty were here, would she tell me I need to make more time and activities for my South Carolina social studies lessons?” I am no longer writing out plans and turning them into to be graded. I now have actual students that I have to actually teach so that they can learn information so that they will perform well on MAP and PACT testing to prove that I covered all standards (not that I do not have enough to do already).
I also think about the future. I constantly think about what the end of next week is going to look like (and what I’m going to look like), the end of the first 6 weeks of grades, the end of the semester, and the end of the year. Are my students going to love me or are they going to hate me? Are they going to walk away more knowledgeable or are they going to walk away confused? Will all the copy machines ever work consistently? I wonder if I’ll ever cover all six subjects in one day with enough time to go to two specials and have a 30-minute recess? I wonder if I’ll still be at Roebuck Elementary next year with the desire to continue to teach? But I constantly have to remind myself, “Inch by inch is a cinch. Yard by yard is hard.” I have to live in the moment and make each day the most of it for me and for my students. I have to remind myself that lessons aren’t going to be perfect and something just might go wrong—and that’s ok. There’s always another day.
At the end of a crazy day like today I sit down at my desk of craziness that includes newsletters, homework, notes, and two cups of sweet tea and I laugh. I look around my mini classroom to see the snacks left on the counter, pencils on the floor, scribbles on the board, and I enjoy the quietness. I tell myself, “Welcome to third grade Ms. C. You have arrived!” And I cannot wait till the next day to see what new adventures hold for us in Workroom 3 at Roebuck Elementary.

!Fiesta! all weekend long...

Let's see, where to begin?

With it being the flower festival, it's been a pretty busy weekend! The flower festival is a huge there in Medellin and they celebrate it all weekend. The only downside of it is that instead of people leaving the city to go to "las fincas" or the farms on the weekend, everyone stayed in town so traffic was pretty crazy this weekend.

Friday we just pretty much hung around the city. I don't recall us doing anything major. We went and ate at the club with Beatrice that night but I recall that being the only thing we really did...


Oh! I did get a mani and pedi! Papi has a professional come to his apartment and give him one, so after some coaxing, I got one! I'm not a big "pedi" person because I'm really ticklish on my feet and not held responsible for my reflexes when you touch my feet. But I did good! I refrained and got through it successfully.

Saturday I went to the "horse parade" with Elena and some of her friends. It's a parade of horses needless to say and half of the people drink and ride the horses so their drunk throughout the whole parade. Picture Carolina Cup Colombia style. Except, no one really dressed up in dresses--the girls wore tight jeans, boots, halter tops, and cowboy hats. And of course, there were so many people there and they were drunk and you couldn't really walk through the crowds...I probably saw 10 horses in the parade because I didn't have a good view. I saw more horses on the street than I did at the parade! Needless to say, Elena got very mad at the crowd and the crappiness of it in some way soo we left to get a late lunch.

Papi and Dad just informed me that at the horse parade there were a couple fights. A guy and his girlfriend were riding on a horse and someone said something to them, got in a fight, and a gun was pulled which resulted in a death or two. Yikes.

That night we went and ate at Camilo (Elena and all of them---their dad's) house for dinner. Of course, Camilo, Papi, Dad and my other cousin Carlos love spicy things sooo of course, we had "spicy shrimp and sauce" for dinner. But luckly for the rest of us, they had "milder" shrimip and sauce for us babies, which was still pretty spicy. It was good non the less though.

Afterwards, Elena, Ana, and myself met up with some of their friends at a discoteca (latin dance club). It was like a mexican dance club in a barn but fairly nice. It was quite an experience I must say so myself. Apparently, I don't have the latin rythm like the rest of them. My hips and feet don't really sway together. Ana had a friend there...we'll call him Juan--I can't remember what his name was that tried to teach me how to dance. But the tricky thing is that he didn't speak english so communicating was pretty funny. He kept telling me in spanish that I had pretty teeth and mouth and squeezing my cheeks to make me smile. Did I mention he was pretty drunk? But quite hilarious. We danced for a long time but then a fight broke out about 12 feets away from us that included broken bottles and tables so we decided it was time to hit the road and leave. I got home around 2 AM, which isn't bad. But I was exhausted...party! party! party! sleep. That's all they do.

Sunday, or yesterday, we went to the Flower Festival Parade which was the whole point of this trip. It started at 1:00...well supposidly. But when we got there, come to find out that we were at the wrong entrance. They are certain entrances for certain numbers on your ticket. So we had to go alllll the way around the street to the other side. On the way, we bought me a hat I had been wanting but it was too small. Hah. So I have a small Colombian hat now! We finally got to our gate and we had a seat at the bleachers. On one side of the street you could just come, and stand or sit and watch the parade. On the other side, you could have bought tickets in advance and sat at the bleachers. Well, we got there, and waited, and waited, and waited...for 3 hours or so until we saw the parade. The parade is over a mile long so it took them a long time to get to us. I was about to fall asleep waiting for them! But the parade was beautiful and interesting.














We didn't do anything else the rest of the day. We just came back here to the apartment about 6 or so and stayed the rest of the night. Dad's been sick soo he needed to rest. Poor baby.

Then today, we went shopping. Finally! I couldn't really find anything I was looking for specifically. All the clothes here are smaller and the girls like to wear them tighter than I like too. But I found a few shirts. AND--(I was really excited about this) a Coach purse for $45 and a Lousi Vitton for $60. Amazing! I was really excited!! Well, they're not the REAL thing, but you can't tell. Those are my favorite purchases by far....

And now, I'm not doing a whole lot. Anticipating returning home that's for sure.