until 2020, anyway! The CCC musical, Conundrum, was an absolute blast… and now the adrenaline is wearing off, I’m realising I’m the most exhausted I’ve ever felt in my life. And my back is SORE!
But it was worth it to see the smiles on the kids faces. And I learned heaps too 🙂
And check out these beauties!!!
Very blessed.
See you next week… I’ll have managed some sleep by then!
God bless,
– KRidwyn
So it’s Day 5 of the #AtoZchallenge, where bloggers around the world publish daily during April, based on a consecutive letter of the alphabet, with Sundays off to make up the 26 days.
I’ve chosen ‘Word of the day’ for my 2017 theme, and Day 5 means the letter ‘E’.
There are so many ‘E’ words that I discovered recently: educe; effulge; embay; embrangle; emolliate; emplace; etiolate; evert; excoriate; excorticate; excurse; execrate; exscind; exsect; exsert; exsiccate; extirpate; extravasate.
I mean seriously – how cool are they! Just let me elaborate, elucidate and – maybe? – educate, and enchant…
educe: to draw forth or bring out; elicit; develop
effulge: to shine brilliantly; to send forth (beams of light)
embay: to enclose in or as in a bay; surround
embrangle: to confuse, entangle, perplex
emolliate: to soften. To render effeminate
emplace: to place or position
etiolate: to cause (a plant) to whiten by excluding light; to become blanched or whitened, as when grown without sunlight
evert: to turn outwards, or inside out
excoriate: to strip off or remove the skin from. To flay verbally; denounce; censure
excorticate: to remove the mark, husk, or outer covering from
excurse: to go on an excursion. To digress; wander
execrate: to detest utterly; abhor; abominate. To curse; imprecate evil upon. To utter curses
exscind: to cut out or off
exsect: to cut out
exsert: to thrust out
exsiccate: to dry or remove the moisture from, as a substance. To dry up, as moisture
extirpate: to remove utterly; destroy totally; exterminate; do away with. To pull up by the roots; root up (kinda reminds me of John Davis ‘manuscript’ Frain’s #AtoZchallenge this year!)
extravasate: to force out from the proper vessels, as blood, especially so as to diffuse through the surrounding tissues. [in Geology: to pour out molten or liquid matter from the earth as lava from a vent, water from a geyser, etc]
So – did I manage it? Did I ’embrangle’ you, dear reader? Or did I effulge? Excurse? Or was it more of an ‘educing’ that I was doing?
And would you use any of these words in your conversations today?
🙂
Have an enchanting one, dear reader!
— KRidwyn
So the first day of school came, and went, and I’m still smiling. No, not everything went to plan, but that’s okay. Tomorrow’s a new day.
And yes, I’m planning on being smiling at the end of tomorrow as well 🙂
Have a great week, dear reader!
— KRidwyn
I posted late last year about my new job for 2017. Well, I’ve been in it a week now. And what an INCREDIBLE week it’s been!
You see, the position I’ve just started, Head of Middle School at Caloundra Christian College, is the position I held nine years ago. I absolutely loved it; of all my teaching jobs over the years, it was my absolute favourite. I resigned from it at the end of 2007 because I was heavily pregnant with she-who-is-now-Miss8. Yes, I *could* have just taken maternity leave, and resumed work after a period of time, but I didn’t know how many more children Hubby and I would have (he-who-is-now-Mr7 arrived just 14 months later) and I felt it wouldn’t be fair on either the school or the Middle School students, to have an on-again-off-again Head of School. Not with 11 to 14 year olds. At that time of life, they need stability, not more uncertainty and inconsistency!
So I resigned, had Miss8, and later Mr7, and started my Masters. Ran a business. Taught contracts. Raised kids. Finished my Masters, closed my business. Scored permanent part-time work.
And then I saw the position advertised. *My* position!
Went for it.
Got it.
And am LOVING it!!!
Plus, now that the child-bearing thing is done and dusted for me, this position is what I’m planning on being in for a very, very long time. I’m smiling broadly about that one. Feel free to smile along with me!
And have a great week, dear reader 😀
-KRidwyn
Hi. My name’s Ceridwyn and I’m a mother of a pre-teen.
I’ve never been one before. This journey I’m on, it’s brand new to me.
I’m in the middle of submitting forms for High School and finding those %^&* NAPLAN results from three years ago (seriously, three weekends worth of searching and not only am I majorly embarrassed about my pathetic filing abilities, but I’m also no closer to finding that rotten piece of paper!) and discussing graduation dresses and shoes and hairstyles and OMG some of her classmates are being ASKED OUT by others of her classmates and NO! I’m too young for this! (Yes, she’s too young for it too, but that’s beside the point – if I’m not careful and don’t stop the whole ‘growing up’ thing that she’s doing at the moment, next thing I know she’ll be driving and yelling at me that I don’t understand why she MUST be with this particular boyfriend or she’ll die…!)
Okay, freak out over. For now.
Yes. My firstborn, my baby girl, my Miss11 is rushing headlong to the end of the school year, to ‘graduation’ from Primary School (I still shake my head with how ridiculous that sounds) and into the big wide world of High School.
I’m not ready.
But I can’t let her know.
One of my greatest fears is that inadvertently, my fears become hers. My limitations, limit her. She catches, via osmosis or something, the idea that change is to be feared. That it’s more desirable to stay in the comfort zone, in the place where it’s cruizy and little challenges you.
So I’m finding that my head is high and my eyes are shining (at least, I’m hoping that the ‘eyes wide’ of fear is disguised in the brightness of excitement, or even the tears of emotion at my eldest approaching such a significant milestone.) Because we do this, don’t we? We wrestle our insecurities into submission so that we can prepare our children for the life we think they’ll need? Teach them discernment, teach them about resilience, and then watch from the sidelines as they make their debut and we’re relegated to the role of bystander?
So it’s happening. And I couldn’t stop it, even if I tried. Or, when I really think about it, even if I wanted to.
Because I do want her to graduate. I do want her to experience High School – and everything beyond. I want her to have the best life that she possibly could. I want her to grab opportunities with both hands and hang on tight, and have the courage and the determination to see things through with HER head held high, and HER eyes bright and shining, knowing few regrets and happy with the person she is, and who she is becoming.
I know that she’ll do great.
Now just to get comfortable in this sideline chair of mine…
Have a great day, dear reader!
— KRidwyn
CC image courtesy David Goehring on Flickr
I remember being an angst-filled teen. Who doesn’t, right?
In hindsight though, it was pretty cruisy. I was fed, clothed, dry. I was educated – well! – and had people in my life who cared about me. The values and beliefs that I challenged, I didn’t challenge too far, because I was happy in them and they sat comfortably with me.
Ursula Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness took me aback, forced me to re-examine my opinions on gender and sex. It was, for me, the first time that I realised that a novel could do that, could stretch my mind in ways hitherto unforeseen.
What power there lies between the covers of a book!
And you, dear reader? What book first stretched your mind?
And, as always, have a fantabulous day!
— KRidwyn
As a teacher for *cough* over twenty *cough* years, I’ve had a few student teachers in that time. You know, the people who study ‘teaching’ at Uni, who come and practice teaching for a few weeks, or months, to learn the ropes of how a classroom operates. Or should.
Some of those student teachers were fantastic. Dedicated, willing to learn, like little sponges eager to hear and absorb ‘the pearls of wisdom that dropped from my lips’. (Ha! I just quoted from my own Film and TV teacher, from my own days as a Senior. She was a fervent teacher, Nicky Bricknell.)
Other student teachers? Not so much.
But when it boiled down to it, they weren’t in charge. I was. The responsibility for the cherubs in my classes lay entirely with me.
Likewise with God.
In the book of John, chapter 10, verses 11 to 14, Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me.”
I like the idea that I’m not in the class where the student teacher has assumed entire responsibility. I’m in the class where my teacher is the Head Honcho. So I can be confident that my needs – all of them! – will be attended to. He’ll look after me, because I belong to Him.
And that’s my takeaway lesson for Day 7. Because God is the GOOD shepherd, I can be confident. (And if you’re interested in seeing what BAD shepherding is like, and how God feels about it, read Ezekiel 34. But be warned: He doesn’t like it!)
So on that note, have a great day, dear reader!
— KRidwyn
I’m fortunate enough to have two parents still married to each other. They’re in their seventies now; still healthy, still happy. My Mum is inspirational, and I love her to absolute bits, and I’ll post ‘why’ on here at some stage.
But this post is about my Dad.
I’ll be the first to admit, our relationship hasn’t always been smooth sailing. And some – maybe even most?! – of that, was my fault. But that’s life, and I’m older (and maybe wiser) now. And now, we’re doing well.
You see, my father’s a retired lecturer. His area of lecturing? English. Literature, and creative writing.
As in, yes. The same topic that has me up late nights, or in the early mornings, as I struggle with the whole “I want to be a published author” path I’m on.
He’s one of my guides on this journey. And through him, I’ve learned SO much; far too much to even contemplate, let alone relate here.
But I’m also aware that time is limited. As much as I’d like to ignore it… the reality is, he’s only human. He’s not eternal. So it’d be wise for me to receive as much guidance as I possibly can, now, before the inevitable happens.
Yes, this is sad. Writing about it like this may portray me as callous and mercenary. Am I? I’m too close to the situation to answer reliably. I’d like to think I show my appreciation to him, for what he does – whether or not I’ve made that clear here. But that’s not the point.
The point is, that although I fail at things constantly, and my Dad is there to help fix stuff and guide me in the right ways, I also have a Heavenly Dad who fixes stuff and guides me, too.
And the difference is, this Heavenly Dad is everlasting.
Isaiah 9:6 says, “For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
[Aside: As soon as I read this verse, I immediately get Handel’s Messiah in my head. Do you?]
God is my Everlasting Father. I don’t need to worry that at some point in the future, He will cease being there for me.
I can continue to stuff up, to fail, and to need guidance, every single day until the day I die, knowing that God will continue to be there for me, every single day, leading me and guiding me, and helping me to fix the stuff-ups that I make. And I like that idea.
(I’m also thinking that my Dad would have a field day with that run-on sentence that I just wrote! Not to mention following it with a sentence fragment which started with a conjunction!)
So that’s my takeaway lesson for Day 5 of this A to Z blogging challenge. God is our Everlasting Father, so I don’t have to worry about there being a end-point. Which is pretty cool!
Have a great day, dear reader!
— KRidwyn
I assembled Mr6’s desk the other weekend. It came as a flatpack, so I spent quite some time in his bedroom, with an Allen key, bruising my thumbs and pointer fingers. Mr6 visited me from time to time, to watch. I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling when one of his comments was that his desk was ‘loading’. If anything was indicative that devices (and the terminology associated with them) are colouring his world, that was it!
Something else of note during Mr 6’s last week. As his school music teacher, I get to see him with his classmates, and teach them all, the fundamentals of music 😀 😀 😀
Last week, we were discussing various pictures, and whether they were one syllable words (eg. sun) or two syllable words (rabbit) in preparation for the differences between crotchets and quavers.
My Mr6 was the only student in the whole of his grade (three classes worth) who worked out that ‘owl’ was a two syllable word, instead of just looking at it and assuming that it was just one, because of its length. Cool, hey!
I’m sitting at the dining table. Mr6 is next to me, reading to me. I love that!
He’s chosen his favourite books.
Bears on Wheels by Stan and Jan Berenstain
Go, Dog. Go! by P.D. Eastman
and
Inside, Outside, Upside down by Stan and Jan Berenstain
He’s just finished the last page. We had a discussion about the text on the final page. Mr6 refuses to read the first line: “Mama! Mama!” His coping strategy (typical autism here) – he runs away if he’s made to read it. He always has. Today we talked about why. I thought that it was because the word is different to what we use at home: he calls me ‘Mummy’ not ‘Mama’. But no, that’s not it. He said that it was because if he said it, the mother bear should be answering, “Yes, yes?”
Interesting, hey! Well, I think so, at least 🙂
Have a great day, dear reader!
— KRidwyn