I've spent the past month or so trying to think of the best way to say this. Nevertheless, I think I will still come up short. So, I might as well just come out with it: I am no longer in a school counseling position. Just typing those words breaks my heart. However, this was a "conscious uncoupling" from my work relationship, so while painful, it's still a positive thing.

I've been thinking about making a change for a few years, but loved my school community and my job too much to take the plunge. Then, this school year in particular, I was struggling with my oldest son (who now will be receiving services as a preschooler with Autism) and a new baby, all while managing the weight of all of my students' worries, crises, and heartbreaks. I realized that I had to make a difficult decision in order to be the best mom and educator; I needed to step back and focus on a smaller number of students, as opposed to a whole building.

Once the thought popped into my head, I felt sick to my stomach. I consulted with fellow school counselors, had heart-to-hearts with current teachers, and weighed the pros and cons with my supportive husband more times that I can count. At transfer day, I walked in feeling as if I would faint and throw up (in no particular order), knowing that I was about to make a huge, life-changing decision - a decision that I couldn't simply "take back" if I changed my mind. When my name was called, I bid on a First Grade teaching position and well, that was that. The other staff members in the room saw me crying and I'm sure they were thinking, Girl, you got what you wanted. Why are you so upset? Well, to be honest, I was upset for many reasons, but mostly because I wasn't leaving my position because I hated the people or because I had a conflict I needed to run from. I was leaving because I wanted to make sure I took care of my own health in order to best take care of my family and my students.

While I'm beyond ecstatic to start my teaching career (and yes, I'm not naïve and know this will be stressful too), the thought of someone else in MY office, changing MY program, working with MY students is heartbreaking. Maybe that sounds dramatic, but it's true. It's like I broke up with my job, but I'm mad they started dating again. That's not fair, but that's how I feel. I can't have my cake and eat it too, but I wannnnnnnnna.

So, now to what happens to my beloved website. I will absolutely be keeping this website up and running and, when appropriate, will still share ideas that connect with school counseling. I may not be actively working as a school counselor, but I'm still licensed and more importantly, my heart and mind still feel "school counselory." I just can't give up a part of who I am. Not possible.

To all of you who are in similar stages of your career, please don't take my transition into the classroom as a sign of defeat, like the profession is just too much for anyone to handle. Of course school counseling is a tremendously challenging job, but it's amazing too. I think my personal life made it difficult to do everything I was used to doing as a school counselor - it's hard worrying about your child and managing their unique needs, while also being the go-to person for everyone else's struggles.  

Thank you for your kindness and support! I'll still be here to cheer on and advocate for the best profession in the world! :)

As you may know, I am currently expecting a baby in May. When I used to imagine pregnancy as this hypothetical, may-never-happen scenario, I thought that it would be a magical, "I'm at peace" type of experience. I thought about what my growing stomach would represent - life, a new beginning, love. I thought about "the glow" that you would radiate, like your own personal sunshine.

Well, that's not exactly what I've experienced.

You know the comments: Are you sure you aren't having twins? Whoa, you've really gotten big! That baby is going to be huge! You look even bigger today than you did yesterday. Are you sure you're going to make it?

I know they mean well, so I smile and give one of my prepared "I know" responses. But inside? I feel defeated. I feel judged. I feel completely uncomfortable in my own skin. I feel that every minute of every day is an opportunity for someone to label my body. There are mornings when I get dressed and I look in the mirror feeling really good about myself...then I go out in public, receive the verdict on my personal appearance, and instantly get put back in my place. A place that I haven't been in a long time. I DO have to note that I have MANY loving, encouraging, and accepting individuals in my life who help pull me back up and dust off my insecurities. And, like I said earlier, I don't think the negative comments are meant to be negative. It's like a well-meaning gift wrapped in sandpaper. It stings to open it, but it's not malicious.

For the majority of my life, I've been content with my body. It was able to move easily, fit into the clothes I wanted to wear, and had a sort of "invisibility cloak" that exempted me (for the most part) from public scrutiny. Now, I have to adjust to a completely different set of life experiences and expectations for what my day is going to look like. I find myself wanting to stay inside, avoiding the awkward encounters.

Recently, I REALLY got to thinking. What would I tell a student who felt judged for his or her appearance? I'd advise them to tell people how they felt. Have I done that? No, I haven't. My instinct was to protect the jury from embarrassment or guilt by being "nice." I also felt that their judgment of my body had to be right, so it became my inner monologue. I started to worry so much about hearing those words that when they happened, it confirmed the ever-booming voice in my head: "See, there IS something wrong with you."

Check out these sections of my website:
Classroom-Based Counseling
Small Group Counseling
Individual Counseling

When our show closed, however, this was not the end of the story.

On a happy note, during the production, I learned that I was pregnant. Yes, I was performing, moving into a new house, kicking off a new school year (with my first intern), and carrying a tiny life. There were moments when I felt like I didn't have the energy to get out of bed and start another LONG day, especially since I temporarily lost my evenings and much of my weekends to rehearsals, performances, and putting together a new home. Somehow, though, I made it and now have a cool story to tell my little actor.

On a sad note, after our production closed, one of my friends died unexpectedly - someone who was close to many in our theatre community. I was lucky to have the support of fellow actors and crew members, but it didn't stop the grief from affecting me professionally. At work, I still taught my classroom lessons, ran my small groups, remained focused during individual sessions...I just found myself, when left to the quiet of my office, jumping from thought to thought, task to task. Minutes felt like hours. I came home with bottled up emotions that would fizz and bubble beneath the surface, just waiting for something small to jar my senses so they could explode.

Luckily, I have only known a few tragedies in my life that have occurred during a school year that have affected me this deeply. However, when it does happen, I forget how to function. Even when we don't have personal stress and grief, our work is emotionally and physically draining. How can we take care of ourselves while still being effective school counselors? Grief does not go away overnight, it's a process. We simply can't stay home and avoid our offices until the most intense feelings subside. So, how do we do it?

I'm still trying to answer this question...a question that, ironically, my character in The Mousetrap found herself struggling with as well. I suppose all we can do is breathe, listen to our hearts, and accept the love and support that is all around us. Then, we may just find the peace we need to make it through the worst moments.

Production photos courtesy of Todd Michaels.

The past few months have been the busiest I've ever had. I just bought a house (which came with its own lovely complications and workload), closed a play (Did I mention that I had to perform with a dialect, learn fight choreography, and be on stage a LOT?), moved in with my parents while construction took place at my house (yeah, my apartment was re-rented...), spent every free afternoon and evening taking down wallpaper (NEVER use wallpaper), supervised and continuing to supervise my very first intern (she's awesome!), prepped for 2 presentations (I must have done that in my sleep...well, it sure felt like I was asleep), and faced a pretty big personal milestone (later, friends). Somewhere in there I fit in my regular job and spending time with friends and family.

So, needless to say, something had to give. Unfortunately for my readers, that meant blogging. I thought about it every single day, but just didn't have the time or the energy to do it.

Here's the good news: I am moving, officially, into my home this Saturday. My play is over. I have SO much more free time than I've had for the past 1 1/2 years, so that means I can finally sit in my office (EEEEE! So excited!) and work on uploading the hundreds of ideas and materials that I've accumulated over the years.

Starting Monday, be prepared to wish that I was absent from the blog world...okay, maybe I won't be THAT active, but it will definitely be better.

Thanks for understanding! :)

My life has been more hectic than usual, which is certainly saying something. I spent my summer taking a class, volunteering at Camp Quality, attending the ASCA conference,  performing in a short film, rehearsing a new play, moving my office to a new location in my building, and searching for my first home. In other words, I didn't allow myself much time to relax.

The past few weeks have felt even more jam-packed. First of all, buying a house is extremely difficult, especially when every experience in this arena has thrown more obstacles my way than I could have imagined or prepared for. In the middle of the negotiation process, my apartment was re-rented, so I had to be out within a few days...yes, at the start of the school year. The extra special bonus was finding time to pack when my husband was starting a new job 1 hour away and while I had rehearsals and cross country practices. I did this to myself, but it didn't make it any less stressful. This is where you're supposed to tell me: "I told you so!"

Anyway, I know things will get easier soon. Once we're moved in, my show is over, and cross country season ends, things will slow down. Despite my desire to be busy, I think I need this time to crash. Today, for example, is my first day with NOTHING extra to do in over 3 weeks. Yep, 3 weeks. That's not healthy.