Author Archives: Krissy Gibbs

About Krissy Gibbs

Just your average hippy white trash incest survivor stay at home mom. Is there an average for us? No? Oh well.

Update on those parental types who object to “queer”

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So I debated whether I should talk to the kidlet about his level of comfort with my disclosure. I decided that I would do it. But then I didn’t get a chance because the kid came up to me instead. He apologized profusely for what his parental types told me. He said that he absolutely does not share their views and he is sorry that they said what they did. He said that he will be not talking to them in the future about this class because he wants me to feel comfortable saying whatever I want.

Sweet.

Back to School Night

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Had my first parent ever tell me they are unhappy that I told the class that I am queer. Well, sorry that you are unhappy about that. It allows dozens of other students to feel more comfortable and safer with me so I don’t think I am going back into the closet.

(I don’t exactly flaunt it, but I do state it as a simple fact when talking about complex issues and why my views are colored the way they are.)

Besides lots of other parents stopped to tell me how much their kids love my class. I’ll just pay attention to that. 🙂

Reflecting.

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The last year has been remarkable. I have been married for a year and 9 days. I have begun my third year of teaching. I painted my house so that I could work on banishing the ghosts from the building. I have made friends. I have unfortunately hurt people. I have faced down demons. I have discovered new trauma. I have learned to trust Noah in ways I never thought I would. I have gained 20 lbs. I have purchased furniture. I have gotten rid of furniture. I have a new kitten. I have gone off birth control. I took Noah to Disneyland for the first time as well as Portland and Seattle. I went to Las Vegas for my first trip and went to a bunch of Cirque shows.

It’s been quite a year. 25 was good to me. Let’s see how 26 goes. 🙂

oh.my.fucking.god.

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I have an ED kid. For those of you who get to live your lives outside the realm of school, that means Emotionally Disturbed. As in: batshit crazy. I’m going to kill him. He is disturbed enough that he shouldn’t be in public school. He disrupts the class with rude, inappropriate behavior. We were having a very sensitive, difficult, touchy conversation about racism and when kids shared things he laughed at them. This is a minor outburst for him apparently. I was livid. This is my god damn advanced class and he is alienating people to the point where they don’t want to have a serious conversation.

This child is not in the right place and I want him out. I just don’t know if it will happen. 🙁

Not what I expected.

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I took the advice of my therapist and a good friend. I did what I wanted for my birthday. It happened yesterday. It was fucking fabulous. No, ya’ll don’t get to know what it was. 😛 Ok, James and Chris know, but they have to keep their mouths shut.

I will tell you that Noah is the best husband ever for making me hand drawn “I will do ….” coupons. They are sweet and adorable and show a lot of work and consideration about what *I* actually want. Have I mentioned I married the right boy?

And! As a sorta birthday/really Christmas present to both of us–we booked a Disney cruise for Christmas vacation. We’re going to Disney World!!!!!!!!! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

So. Fucking. Excited.

And tired. And hung over. Today I will smile wanly and not be my normal fireball self. That’s fine. 3/5 periods are doing research in the library. It’s almost like I planned for this…

Birthday blues.

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I have not had a history of good birthdays. Pre-18 most of them were either screamingly awful in every way or at least had some drama that soured them. 19 I spent with Anna. She brought me flowers and a balloon and took me to dinner. That was one of my best birthdays ever. 20 consisted of Anna and Tom giving me flowers and taking me to dinner. That was a pretty decent birthday. 21 was the temper tantrum Anna threw at BaGG because going reminded her of her own abuse history. 22 was totally ignored because we were going on a trip later that month. (Uhm… it’s for your birthday! Yeah! Oh, I was planning it anyway… oh well. Don’t get me wrong. The trip was awesome.) 23 was the awkward birthday party that Tom hosted after I broke up with him. Right. It was a good birthday party but so strangely uncomfortable. 24 I woke up and spent the morning crying because I knew Puppy wanted to break up with me. Then I spent the day watching Noah and his then girlfriend and feeling jealous with no way to express that. heh. 25 was mostly ignored.

My birthday is destined to go poorly. It just seems to be fate. I desperately wish that weren’t true, but due to circumstances beyond my control and having weird feelings about the event I don’t think I am capable of enjoying a birthday. I want to do something, but I don’t know what. Noah has suggested trips but I’m stupid and petty and my response is, “Oh yeah! Let’s duplicate that trip you took with how many ex girlfriends?!” I know I shouldn’t react that way. I don’t seem to be able to stop though.

I wish I knew what I wanted. If I knew what I wanted I could at least ask for it and hope to get it. But I don’t know. So I sit here and think–ok, Monday is another birthday. What did I accomplish in the last 12 months? I survived my first year of marriage without making him hate me. Woo hoo!! That is a big one. I painted my house. I survived teaching full time. But I still feel like something is missing. I feel like I am failing in some big, painfully obvious way because there is something I want and don’t seem to be able to have.

I hate my birthday.

Much with the yay

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Yesterday I got a note in my box telling me that one of my new students (I have had 8-9ish kids added to my class yesterday and today) has Asperger’s and giving me very direct suggestions for how best to get along with him and help him be successful in class. It’s awesome. I wish all children had similar socialization specificities! If he says stuff in a nasty tone of voice accidentally I can tell him, “Try again” and he will rephrase dropping the attitude. I think that is fabulous. It talks about how to help him adjust to disruptions in routine. It’s a really neat document. I was cracking up as I read it, “Good lord! It’s like all of my friends!” I sent his mother an email today thanking her for the heads up and the hints about how to help him adjust. She seems pleased. 🙂

A few kids were talking about wussing out of 2A and I managed to talk them into staying. I’m glad they are staying. I think it will be a fun class. I am now several kids past my contract limits in basically all classes. w00t. heh Apparently kids are requesting to stay in my class when schedule changes happen. I feel really good about that.

The kids are already writing how much they love me on the board. I know it is generic ass-kissing, but I still like it. 🙂 Of course my response in class is to make fun of them and call them a brown-noser. I do it with a big smile and a silly tone of voice… It’s going so well.

Holy shit. I’m The Man.

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Today I had the counseling department take a girl out of my advanced English course because there is no way she would be able to pass. (If you are two books behind by the second week…. yeah, no.) I made this decision. I just decided that this person is off the advanced/honors track for my school. It is technically possible for her to get back on it later, but it is pretty rare. For the record, she wanted out and told me so–this wasn’t done against her will. But I made the call that caused this to happen because counseling wouldn’t listen to her. I just influenced her potential acceptance to college. Holy shit. I’m mostly aware that I do this when I assign grades, but I really believe that you *earn* your grade. This was a different thing.

I also made the decision to allow three more students into honors track because if they don’t go into my class they don’t go into honors. (We are terribly over-crowded.) I am allowing them to overload my class past my contract limits because I’m freaked out by the fact that I decide whether or not these children are looked at for admission into future honors/AP classes.

And I discovered last year that if a kid wants into any AP class with a focus on writing on my campus they need the approval of their English teacher. I have turned kids down. There have been several kids who have tried to get into AP classes but weren’t allowed because *I* judge their skills to be insufficient.

Holy shit. I’m The Man.

It’s been a year already?

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One year ago today Noah and I snuck off from the lovely B&B in Lake Tahoe and went and got married. It was with little fanfare as such things go, but strangely it is the most appropriate way I can imagine for us to get married. There have been a few moments when I am somewhat wistful thinking, “I wish I had the sort of family where having a big wedding would have been fun and a positive experience,” but considering the families we have I am glad we made the decision we did. Honestly, as much as I love my friends, I don’t feel like anyone is that big of a part of my direct day-to-day life other than Noah. I like that our wedding reflected the way our life actually works.

I love Noah so much that sometimes I feel like I am drowning in it. I enjoy his silliness, his seriousness, his playfulness, his focus, his lustfullness… The list is long. He is my best friend. He is the person I most want to talk to about any silly or important thing that happens. I’m happy that I never feel like I want to keep things from him. (Ok, sometimes I do for about half a day when I’m upset at him for some reason, but it never lasts.) I’m happy that we work through intense issues and come out the other side appreciating one another more. I’m grateful that even in the middle of a fierce fight we can stop and do something to affirm to the other that it is just a fight and not something that hurts our general feelings for the other. I am amazed that he is able to see so many parts of me and never judge me harshly for them. I am grateful that I don’t feel the need to withhold levels of trust.

I’m glad that we have sufficiently disproved any doubts anyone may have had about us getting married because we had to. 🙂 And anyone who was in a betting pool that we wouldn’t make it a year… sorry about losing your money. No wait… nevermind. I’m not sorry. 🙂 I’m quite happy in fact.

*And* he’s perfectly content with just me? Boy did I never think that would happen. It’s just another day in Paradise.

Best.Husband.Ever.

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I don’t feel great today, but I need to go into work for a bit anyway. I’ve been moping and fussing and generally being lost and cranky. Noah was procrastinating on his stated goal for the day of “getting a haircut” and seemed to be just hanging out. I finally fessed up that I really wish he would come with me. I did it in a whiny little-girl voice sitting in a corner on the floor. He leaned over and said (in that fabulous stage whisper of his), “I figured out that you want me to go with you, but I’m waiting for you to leave so I can go get your anniversary present.” Giggling followed.

Now he is out getting whatever it is he is getting and I’m waiting at home. I will close my eyes so he can hide it when he returns. Then we will go to my work. 🙂

I married the right boy.

home stretch

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My prep period is the penultimate period of the day. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Today has gone mostly well. I really stuck my foot in my mouth once, cause saying out loud “Freakin Vietnamese names” was not cool at all. I explained in a stupid I’m-a-moron sort of way how I had two Vietnamese kids last year who tormented constantly because I couldn’t sound out the Vietnamese words/names and I don’t think that helped at all. I talked to the girl specifically I said that about and she just laughed it off. I hope she wasn’t simply humoring me. *face palm*

I’m scaring the hell out of kids with the expected workload. I’ll call that a win. One period to go and then a few more hours of prep. I will survive!

{School}Nervous

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—Side note–I’ve added some people to the school filter. If you don’t want to hear me talk about my job a lot, feel free to ask to be taken off. During the school year this filter will probably see about 70% of my posts and when I’m around some crunch time I get really posty.—

From what I can tell, most teachers are nervous near the beginning of the school year. I’m getting pretty terrified. I think English 3 will go well (hell, I start out my day with Tigger-boy and my favorite dyke from 7th period last year [Uhm, she failed–despite my being on the phone with her mother daily and having her in for detention frequently. This time she will have to be in detention *before* assignments are due so that she never develops a backlog of work to make up.] so my day will at least start well every day) but I’m worried about 2A. What if the smart kids don’t think I am a good teacher? *insert nervous hand-wringing* The problem is that most 2A kids desperately want the other guy because he is well known as being the best thing ever. I can’t ever be him though. I’m really not looking forward to the unhappy resignation in the first week when they realize they have me.

I’m having a tremendous number of scary dreams where I completely fuck up. This is not making me sleep well. My consolation and indication that I probably will not fuck up too badly is that I have been in more prepping than any other teacher in my department. I’m so worried about doing well it isn’t funny. The funny (to me) thing is that my coworkers and department chair are all convinced that I will be absolutely fabulous. My chair told me he expects me to do 2A for a couple of years then take over the 4AP classes. Uhm… he isn’t aware I probably won’t be there in a few years. It’s flattering anyway. 🙂

I got into an argument with an idiot online. I know, kind of hard to avoid when talking to people online. She (in completely incorrectly spelled language) first criticized my usage of vernacular English and then went off on me when I defended myself. I have felt nervous and sad for days. When people say that all of my coworkers and students must hate me because I am so rude and disrespectful I half giggle (it’s ridiculous) and half feel nervous (oh God, what if they’re right?!). It was just enough to make my already existing apprehension suck a bit more. I hate people on the internet. {Uhm, if I actually know you then you don’t count as a “person on the internet”. Well, except for one of you.}

I have the daily plan for English 3 done for the first three weeks already. 2A I don’t have completely planned, but I know most of what I am doing for the first 7 weeks. 🙂

(Have I mentioned that several coworkers have told me that they hate me because they have no idea what they are doing in the first two days?)

So cool.

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A student just bounded into my room (think Tigger) exclaimingly loudly, “I got you! I got you!” Then he grabbed me in a big hug.

You can’t see it, but I think my face is about to split open I’m grinning so wide. I love my job.