So why do I teach anyway?

Why do I teach?

I always knew I was going to teach. Even in grade school.  There was a brief moment where I took a left turn and wanted to train Killer Whales, but I guess I’d still be teaching...sort of.  I’m 3rd generation on my dad’s side: Oscar Lemiere, Randy Lemiere, and me.  Those that know my dad (he’s the principal at Three Rivers Christian now) and knew my gramps know that I have an impossible job of filling their shoes.  Talk about setting the bar high!  There’s actually a lot of teachers in my family.  I can count ten easily.  It’s in my blood.

My family is local.  Both sets of grandparents graduated from RALong, dad from MM, mom from Kelso.  I’m a Butler Acres Bulldog (when I rule the world my first order of business is to bring the Bulldogs back), Coweeman Cougar, and Kelso Hilander just like her!  I was one of those students who loved school.  The interactions, the ideas, and the people.  All of it.  I loved KHS.  I hated math though....surprised?  Let me backtrack and say that I had great math teachers: Dot Joslin, Russ Rambo, Mark Olson, Russ again, and Mary Beth Babbit/Tack.  I began to love math in college when I began....tutoring math students.  Teaching made me love what I disliked - just like some of my students (I’m joking, kind of...)

I left for college all the way down in Portland, but immediately got hired by my old math teacher (Tack) at KHS and became the new Jim Perkins (retired) in 2000.  Kelso is the only place i’ve worked and it’s the only place I want to work.  My loyalty is deep to Kelso.  I get to work, and make a difference in young people’s lives in the place where it happened for me.  I love that.  I love that I get to teach young people what it means to be a Hilander - because it really does mean something.  I love that I get to, and have gotten to teach with the teachers that made a difference in my life: Wingate, Hymes, Hippi, Carpenters, Cooper, Clark, Wheeler, Tack, Stewart, Ames, Clawson, DeLong, Demming, Lovingfoss, Lauzis, Sargent, and on and on and on.  And finally, I get to work with all of you fine people - a fine mix of my former teachers, people I went to school with, and even some of my former students!  God Bless you guys.

#3 is a BOY or GIRL

Are going 3 for 3 in boys, or if we get to throw a little girl in the mix....but first, I have to say a few things about my 20th class reunion.  

It was great! Yes, more people needed to come - especially the nerds that were in town. I had so much fun catching up with old friends, and it was great to see the ones I didn’t know well too.  Everyone looked good, and going ten or twenty years between visits is much too long.  Class of 95’ has always gotten along well overall and is a good group of Hilanders. I encourage you to go to your reunions, whenever they may be.  Two quick things:

1. Cortney was a trooper hanging out with the “old” folks. She knows a few of my classmates (and likes them), but she set the bar pretty high for being a good sport.  She’ll have lofty expectations for me when I attend her 20th reunion in 2045.
2. Backhanded compliment of the reunion goes to my friend Lisa, who said this to Cortney, “I know Andy is a good enough looking guy.... but how did he get YOU?!”  Thanks Lisa....I think.  Great question though.  The best answer I can give is that if you ever find yourself having to get through a maze (i.e. corn maze, David Bowie Labyrinth, of just feel like slaying a Minotaur) all you need to do is keep a hand on the right (or left) wall and never lose touch.  You’ll eventually get through. Yes, you’ll go down some dead ends.  Yes, it might take a really long time.  Yes, there may be some faster ways.  But in the end, you’ll be guaranteed to get where you want.  The analogy here isn’t that Cortney is a perilous, tedious, or dangerous series of pitfalls and snares that I had to traverse to get her heart.  Nor is she a Minotaur.  I think she sees me for what I can be (which can be fair to middling) , and not, at times, what I am - which is a man who trips and stumbles around life’s obstacles, a man who sometimes insists on banging his head on a dead end instead of backing up and trying a new route, a man who needs help, and a man who needs Help.  So I guess I didn’t answer Lisa’s question at all.  There’s no logical reason why she’s with me.  I “got” her because God looked down and had mercy on me.  He saw that I needed help with my life so He sent me her.  And I am grateful.  (We all know she got the short end of this deal so my life’s goal is to lessen the gap between her awesomeness and my tom-foolery so that it’s not so bad for her.)

And that brings us to why we are here on this blog post.  We have a baby coming somewhere around January 18.  Those that know me know that I’ve always wanted a big family.  I was blessed to help raise Kaeden for 8-ish years and continue to love that young man.  Then Dashal came along and changed everything forever for better.  Then life changed a bit and I had reserved myself to thinking that Dash was going to be my only child - which was more than ok with me!  I mean, if you’re going to have one kid, it might as well be Dash right?  But now I get more! 

ZAIN!

And baby ________!

We don’t have a name yet.  And while we would love to hear your opinions on what to name it, we reserve the right to laugh if it’s ridiculous.  To be fair, I am good at ridiculous, as Cortney learns more and more...

Here’s why I wanted to have a boy:  I am one.  I have one.  Cortney has one.  We are familiar and semi-prepared for one.  It is the more convenient choice between the two, if that counts for anything.  Boys are awesome.  There are 3 boys in my family (2 of which turned out very well). I would love a third.

Here’s why I wanted to have a girl:  Well, to be honest, I always would have rather had a boy.  What I know vs what I don’t know.  And I don’t know crap about females.  I love my niece Lily to pieces though so that has softened some of my pre-conceived ideas of fathering a daughter.  I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever changed the diaper of a girl before.  I’ve never had to talk to a girl about getting her period (I laugh at the visual i get in my head).  I don’t know how to braid. Picking out an outfit for a boy is a non issue.  The colors often don’t even need to match.  But for a girl...?  Accessories!  Ugh.  I could go on...  But there is a considerable part of me that openly embraces the notion of a daughter.  I don’t back down from challenges.  A daddy’s girl sounds nice.  I have guns already.

When we found out at the ultra-sound, it was pretty quiet/business-as-usual. We hugged and kissed and left in separate cars.  Little did I know that she cried (happy tears) all the way home.  Little did she know that I cried all the way to Safeway.  Shoot.  Then I had to go in.  And to be honest, I wandered around the aisles a while just thinking about #3.

By the way, God willing, this is the last one.  WE are getting fixed.  I’ve had my Roy Hobbs moment (where the old guy comes back after being counted out and hits one last  ball out of the park. A home run in a couple of ways I suppose. The Natural.).  Three kids makes our hearts full.  Our house too. 

I doubt if it's still a surprise at this point, but we are, in fact, having a baby girl!  Little secret: it's what we both wanted!  January can't come fast enough!

1-4-3

I found this blog from a few years ago that I never posted.  I don't recall why, but after a quick edit, I decided to post it since it is still relevant (original post is in red):

I don't say "I love you" very much.  I don't say it to many people either.  Never have.  Not because I don't love, or even find it hard to love, but because of what it means.  I think that I may be "in my head" about it, but I think the word LOVE is the strongest word we as people can use (in context).  Therefore, I do not take it lightly, nor do I throw it around casually.  I've come to realize however, that I should loosen up on my usage and not cling so tightly to my "I love you"'s as if there were only a finite number of them to be spoken.  

A few years ago, through a series of brief conversations, I was told that I had not told my grandmother that I loved her since I was a little boy.  After a brief period of reflection, I realized that indeed I hadn't!  I of course love my gramma very much and was embarrassed/ashamed that I hadn't put into words in so many years.  So I told her immediately.  And again the next time I saw her.  That's the genesis of this post.

I have to remind myself to tell people I love them because it doesn't come naturally.  I feel weird saying it even if I really, REALLY mean it.  And I feel like I'm awkward about it when it's said to me too.  Dash is the exception.  He gets as many as I can fit in a day and it feels completely natural.  Everybody else is awkward and forced.  It's a problem, I know, but at least I'm not raising him to be an "I love you" tight-wad. 

I have a few guy friends that will tell me that they love me as part of their farewell and it always stymies me.  I freeze and stammer something like, "Uh, see you later man...."  Not only do I rarely expect it being said, but I don't know how to respond!  I feel like a jerk for not saying it back.  Most of the time anyway.

Here's why I think it seems to be more difficult for me than others.  I've seen countless people say it and have no idea what they mean by it, or not know what love means (at least in the way that I perceive what love is).  I've seen it used improperly as a manipulative tool.  I've seen it used when really the correct word should have been lust.  I've seen people say it and NOT mean it.  It annoys me to no end and I don't want to fall into those categories.  When I say it, I want it to be meaningful, I want it to matter, I want to mean it (as I have defined its meaning to myself).  

The older I get, the less stock I put into words.  The action is always more meaningful, so in my mind I'd rather show you love than tell you (I'm not great at either). And the counter is true: I don't need to hear that you love me (although it's nice) - I'd rather see it.  I've taken it to an extreme though and should vocalize it more.  Do I love my parents? Absolutely.  Do I love my brothers and their families?  Definitely.  Do I love my extended family?  Of course.  Do I love my friends?  Some of them, yes.  So as of my 38th bday, I am making a conscious decision to say it more.  I should.  Not to everyone, but the one's I've waited too long to tell.

I'm trying.  Just know that if I've EVER told you, then I meant it (and it's likely that I still do). And if I ever do tell you, consider it the best thing I can say to another person.  Because it is.