Deciding to Go Gluten-Free

A few months ago, in November 2013, I was diagnosed with Hypothyroidism. This diagnosis came as no surprise to me, considering both my grandmother and mother both have the same thing. Basically, my thyroid is underactive, which causes the hormones in my body to be released at a much higher rate than normal. (If you are not familiar with the thyroid, its underactivity causes too much hormone release and it's overactivity causes too little hormone release - it's the exact opposite of what you might think considering the normal use of underactive/overactive). Anyway, I was placed on thyroid supplements and started feeling slightly better. Some of my symptoms are still around, which is why I am going to go to a specialist to monitor my thyroid even further.

In January, I started getting pretty severe stomach aches. I've always had a "sensitive stomach" (as I'd call it) and felt that I got sick easily, for no apparent reason. After my thyroid diagnosis and 2-3 weeks of feeling miserable, every morning, all of the time, I decided to do a little research. Thankfully I stumbled upon an online forum for thyroid disorder patients, and read a lot. I mean, a lot. It's amazing what you learn from people who have been in the same situation as you, and know what they are talking about.

Many people had said that they started feeling better after they began a gluten-free diet. So, I did my own research and found that, indeed, gluten intolerance and thyroid disorders can be linked due to the fact that they are both autoimmune disorders. So I started my research on what it actually meant to go gluten-free, what it entailed, how it would work in my life, etc. Basically (there is more than this, trust me), no wheat, rye, barley, or oats. No traditional breads (the horror!), cakes, cookies, chips, anything and everything that included wheat, rye, barley (like beer), or oats. Ok, I told myself, I can try this. I can see if this makes me feel a little bit better.

I was anxious. I downloaded an app on my phone which allows me to scan almost every product in a grocery store to see if it has gluten, and if it does, the app tells me to avoid that item. On Saturday morning, after a particularly severe stomach attack (the pain is indescribable), I decided to just take the plunge. I took my app and started scanning everything in my pantry. 70% of it was ok, but I had to throw away many items like pastas or noodles (or label them "Javi only"). We went to the grocery store and bought some gluten-free products. Luckily, I am able to eat all meats, fruits, veggies, cheeses (I'm glad I'm not lactose intolerant), I just have to be careful with my consumption of grains. I seriously probably spent an hour and a half in the store, and bought maybe 20 items. It was exhausting at the moment. So now my pantry has gluten-free items, and I find myself being really conscious about what I eat.

I'm quite aware that I'm probably not intolerant to a little bit of gluten, but when consumed in high amounts, it gives me terrible pains. For example, we went to a restaurant and I really wanted a hamburger. Silly me, because after I ate (and I only ate a quarter of the bun because I knew it would make me feel bad), I felt those pains coming on. I knew that had to be the last time I ate a grain like that, because it was just too painful otherwise.

It has been a few days, and every single day since I've gone gluten-free, I have had NO stomach ache! Maybe this was the key. Only time will tell.

I'm not going gluten-free to lose weight. I'm not going gluten-free because it's 'healthier.' I'm going gluten-free because otherwise, I'd be in bed every morning feeling like my whole body was going to die. We still have products in our house with gluten because Javi eats them. I have to choose: do I want to feel good, or do I want to eat gluten? (Because, seriously, bread with gluten is SO much better...)

I know that if this is the reason and I remain gluten-free, eating out will be harder. I will have to bring my own food. I will have to tell people of my dietary restriction. I'm making changes in  my diet to eliminate being sick all of the time. It's not really by choice, it's by necessity.

Now, if I can only make a gluten-free bread that takes like bread with gluten, and I'll be happy.

Winter, Winter + Reflections

We're in the midst of what feels like the longest winter, ever and I have spent the majority of this very cold Saturday browsing blogs, refreshing Facebook, watching my husband play Call of Duty, finishing my homework, thinking about what I want as a snack, and moving my cats away from my legs since they think the couch is their domain.

I was supposed to travel to my parents' house for my little sister's birthday weekend, but travel conditions are awful and we recently took a 5.5 hour drive to Indianapolis a few weeks ago, when the normal drive is 2 hours. And I am not doing that ever again.

I'm in a reflective state of mind, one that involves a lot of prayer. I've spent countless hours talking to the Big Man Above, just chatting with Him about what seems like a continuous thought process that runs through my head with no end and certainly no beginning. I wonder what 2014 has in store for me. I hope for things to happen how I wish for them to happen. I'm pretty content with my life, but let's be honest. We all want something more. We all want to continue to 'improve' our lives in a way that we see fit. And this reflection that I've been happening has really been focused on that.

What is 2014 going to bring me?
Will it be balanced?
Can I celebrate some very big highs after some of last years very low lows?
Will I continue to be happy?

Life is sort of a conundrum. I like where I am in my life, but I'm striving for more. I'm studying for another M.A. because I want to move up in my career. I'm focusing on my health because I need to lose weight and I want a baby, so very badly. (No secret.) I want to travel, save money, buy a house. I want to experience things with my husband that are new and exciting.

This year has already brought big changes. My husband started college to complete his degree. I have lost 13 pounds. Minus this horrible, horrendous, bitterly cold winter we are having, we're pretty secure. We have a plan of action in place, at least.

2014, be nice to me!

The Painful Side of 2013

2013 was a rather good year for me, but there were many moments of intense pain and silent hardship that I had to endure without letting it escape from my own heart and brain.

It's not a subject that many people are willing to talk about, but it's something that is rampant in many people's lives, as I've learned over the past eight months. It's not even something that I like to discuss openly with my family, as most people probably would feel uncomfortable talking about it and might shy away from it. The subject is even hard for me to type here on my blog, and I probably won't post this on any social media websites like I usually do because I'm not sure how some people might feel about it and their reaction.

So, here goes. I'm going to throw all my fear that surrounds talking about the subject and let it go here, on this blog, into the Internet, outside of my bedside journal and outside of my innermost feelings.

My husband and I want a baby. We have wanted a baby since we got married. We've tried to have a baby since we got married. But, we still haven't been able to get pregnant. I read statistics that 80% of couples get pregnant after six months of trying. Well, we are outside of that 80% because we are now trying for the ninth month in a row. People who know me in real life might wonder why I would even want to get pregnant because I'm overweight, but that doesn't determine if you can get pregnant. Sure, being overweight can cause health problems which can, in turn, cause infertility. But I don't have any health problems like that. I've talked to my doctor and she has given me the go-ahead to have a baby, at the same time encouraging me to lose weight (which is obvious to me, and the reason why I'm now on Weight Watchers). But, BUT, I don't need to be skinny to have a baby. It's not a requirement.

The only issue that I'm dealing with is having hypothyroidism. I'm on medication to stabilize my hormone levels, which is necessary for my overall health.

People who have not tried to have a baby don't realize how hard the whole process can be. In the beginning, it's so exciting and new and fun! You are going to have a baby! Then if you don't get pregnant in the first months, you start to feel a little stressed. You start to wonder if something is wrong, and you end up going to the doctor for vials and vials of bloodwork. Been there, done that. The only problem was my thyroid.

Now, I'm just not arbitrarily hoping that I get pregnant. I am not innocent in my belief that having a baby is easy. It's incredibly hard to get pregnant, especially when you REALLY want to get pregnant. It seems to get even harder. Every morning, I wake up and take my temperature and put it in an application on my phone to monitor when I ovulate. I take a prenatal. I take my other medication. I've tracked my cycles for nine months. I pee on ovulation predictor sticks a week every cycle to see when the right time is. I stock up on pregnancy tests when they are on sale, and even have bought cheap pregnancy tests online so I can test as much as possible.

Getting pregnant is really emotionally exhausting when you want it as much as I do, and as much as other women that I know want it. It really starts to get to you after awhile, and your hopes get dashed every month, especially when you really think that month is YOUR month.

What is hardest is that people don't necessarily know what to say when they find out you've been trying for a long time. They say a myriad of phrases that they think are helpful, and they don't anything else to say, but they often don't help. My husband doesn't even help when he says such things. It's hard not to feel like a failure month after month, taking a pregnancy test hoping that you are pregnant and it ends up a big, fat negative.

My focus of 2014 is getting pregnant. My husband is going to get a few tests done, and if everything is ok with him, I'll go have more tests done too. I'm sad. I thought I'd be pregnant by now, and I'm still hoping that I'm pregnant by my birthday. We want more than one child, and I'm afraid that every child will take this long.

So, if you read this, just keep me in your prayers - as well as all of the other women in this world who desperately want a baby and for some reason, cannot get pregnant - that every women can have a baby that she really wants.

Through the Eyes of an Innocent

A few weeks ago, I had the chance to celebrate the quintessential American holiday, 4th of July, with my husband. It was important because 1.) this was my first 4th of July in two years, and 2.) this was my husband's first 4th of July ever.

Sometimes I take for granted all of the things that Americans have or participate in, and I push it to the wayside because it's quite normal for me (even after being outside of the country). But there are so many times that my husband is literally experiencing something for the first time in his mere 25 years. Things such as fireworks, playing corn hole, going to food festivals, watching parades, and the like are all events that my husband has rarely or never experienced. And being able to stand next to him and experience all of these things through his eyes is a test in almost pure innocence. There are so many times where he is like a child, having the ability to see something in its purest and rarest form.

There are moments where I try to make him understand that something is normal for me, or for Americans. But he always gently reminds me that he has never had that experience, or has never been able to see something until that specific moment.

I try to remember this when I'm doing something like trying to plan our vacation. I promised my husband about a year and a half ago that I would take him to Washington, D.C. I've been there before when I was 14 years old, but being from a different country, my husband simply hasn't had the ability or pleasure to travel much. We traveled a lot when we were overseas, which makes me feel almost obligated to take advantage of the times when we can travel - be it when we have money and before we have children. There are so many places I want to take him, but are not financially possible right now.

We decided on D.C. after much discussion. We threw around - literally - 10 different places and finally settled on D.C. for multiple reasons. D.C. is a good place to vacation because it's close to where we live so we can drive there easily, it has a ton of things to do and most of them are free, and we can get a good deal if I use Priceline to find a nice hotel at a reasonable price.

I'm already preparing myself to live through this upcoming vacation through his eyes. I can't wait to see all of the monuments and museums in a new and different light. I'm happy that I'm able to see things in a different way - it's almost like having an innocent 25-year-old child who works and helps me pay the bills.

When I Look At You, I See Myself.

Sometimes I look at my husband and I wonder how much life would be different if he was not who he is and I am not who I am.

It often amazes me that we actually ever met at all - and all of the things that had to happen before we met in order for us to come together in the correct moment. I guess it's all Fate. Now, if you know me at all, you know that I believe in soul mates. I often look at my husband and I can see that he is exactly me, mirrored in a male, Latino body and mind. Before our wedding ceremony, we met with the officiant and he asked us one simple question: "Why him? Why her?" At first, I joked with a silly answer but then I told him how I really felt - that my husband and I are the same, exact person. Sometimes it is scary how similar we are, and how I can know exactly what he is thinking or feeling without even saying words.

Now, my husband might deny this next fact, but I will tell you that it is 100% truth. We are both extremely, maybe overly, emotional people. I'd say that my husband tries to hide his emotions or pretend that he doesn't care about something, but I know deep down he is excited, or sad, or angry, or whatever feeling that comes with the situation.

Every single day I feel extremely lucky that I have my husband. If anything, he complements and completes me. He's supportive and helpful, encouraging and loving, wonderfully committed and equally as impatient as me. We spend countless hours playing games, laughing, competing against each other while watching Jeopardy, just being together in each others presence - all of which has solidified and cemented our already tight relationship.

Three years ago, I couldn't have imagined that my life would end up like it is now. Life seemed to have panned out exactly how it was supposed to - and after spending almost two years in a country that equally lovely and violent - my husband became my true love and my protector. To this day, he still says that he will protect me - even when we walk the safe streets of our apartment complex. There is nothing dangerous about it, but he falls easily into that role. It is traits like that which I know will make him a great father.

Last night, I had a moment where I shot up from my sleep not being able to breathe - I was gasping for breath, very scared and confused on what was happening. Now that I think about it, I think it was some kind of reflux from stupidly drinking water while laying down that settled in my esophagus rather than my stomach, but in that moment it was truly terrifying. It probably only lasted less than five seconds, but I've never seen my husband move so fast - he was literally out of the bed, running to the closet and grabbing the bucket in case I threw up in that short time. It was scary, but also equally endearing that my husband's first reaction was one to grab a bucket so we didn't ruin our carpet in case I vomited everywhere.

Sometimes I wish that words were enough to tell my husband how much I appreciate, care about, and love him. He is truly my knight in shining armor, my one true love, the man that I will have babies with, and grow old with together. I'm proud of him for doing all of the things he has accomplished in the past few years, especially being willing to move with me to a new, different country where things haven't always been the easiest. And when we argue, as all married couples do, we can only stay mad at each other for 10 - 20 minutes, tops. But it's always funny to me when he swears to "really get mad at me," when I know that it's literally impossible.

Because all I have to do is give him a hug and all is right with the world.

Love you, Javito.

Forgetfulness...

You know, life seems to move way too fast sometimes.

In the past 5 months, I've moved to a different city, started a new job, gotten married, thought about going back to school, applied for my teaching license, watched my husband get his first job in the USA, and a thousand of other little things that just seem like a blur as time as passed by so incredibly quick - quicker than I thought possible.

Every single year, I tell myself to blog, to write, to take the time to measure the moments more heavily by reflecting upon them more deeply. But, as you know, life moves at a quick pace and sunsets turn into sunrises so fast that Monday is suddenly Friday and January is suddenly May.

But this weekend, as I was taking the time to soak in the weather and the sights and quality time with my family at an art fair, we walked past a booth for a Writer's Guild and my mom point-blankly told me that I'm a good writer, and did I still write? When my answer - because you already know my excuse, "life is too fast," - was a negative one, she told me that I should continue to write because I'm a good writer. It made me really think, and all of the memories came flooding back - the ones of me sitting in the dark in front of a computer screen during my angst-y teenager years as well as all of the times I spent in college classes doodling down verses to poetry that I would never look at again. I have piles of "journals" where I wrote stories - so many stories - that never went anywhere except the lines of those pages. I have stacks of poems written for people, about people, about situations and feelings and so many things that I cannot even remember who or when or how those poems came to being.

A lot of times I tell myself that my life is particularly boring or mundane or normal, and no one - I mean, no one, will want to read about my day-to-day stories about work or students or my personal life. And I find that I'm often very long-winded when I write, which I guess is not something that attracts readers, in general. It's like I have so much bottled up inside that after months of not writing, all of it comes spilling out in a regurgitation-type style of writing.

My point of all of this is that I want to promise that I will continue to blog, but it has to be an ever-present thing on my "to-do" list - because, let's be honest, I might forget tomorrow or next week that this blog exists - and I desperately want to remember because years from now, I want to look back and reminisce about those moments that I took the time to really reflect upon. Because those will be the memories that will mean the most - when memories fade, words stay. And I can always look back at words, when my memory doesn't suffice anymore.

Kate

New Year!

Christmas has come and go.
New Year's is just upon us - like, 2 days away.

It seems that time passes really quickly and with one blink of my eye, I'm thrown a few weeks ahead in time with nothing but a small kick of dust behind me to remind me that yesterday, I was there.

It seems almost unreal to me that 2013 is days away. 2013 is the year that I get to have a wedding with my family and friends. 2013 is the year that I, crossing my fingers, get a job that helps me shape my career into one that I really love. 2013 is the year that a lot of things start, a lot of things end, and a lot of surprise things will more than likely crop up out of nowhere. I know that many people see New Year's as that day that everything becomes 'new.' They make resolutions and promise to be better people, in some sort of way.

I think it's important to really reflect on all of the goals that I've accomplished this year, but remember that there are definitely some shortcomings that I need to make up for in this upcoming year. I think my most important realization in life, up to this point, is that my happiness sincerely comes from within. Do I really like what I'm doing? If I do, then it is great. Do I really enjoy my life as it is? Is there something that I think I should change (not what others may view as weird or wrong or bad)? If I think I should change something, what should I do to fix it? (Not relying on others to change things in my life for me.)

As people, we grow as the years pass by and every day shapes us into the person that we are continually becoming. Maybe I physically stopped growing when I was 16 but that doesn't mean that I have mentally, emotionally and spiritually stopped growing. I think I've grown more in leaps and bounds since I stopped at 5 ft, 6 inches.

I really want to make my resolutions this year something that creates something inside of me that I haven't been able to touch yet. What can I do to make myself a better person, for myself and for everyone else? What steps can I make that will help me grow? Help me change? Maybe I won't accomplish the things in a year, or even two years. But what can I do right now, today, in this exact moment, that will help me to accomplish small goals that lead to bigger goals?

That's what I'm thinking about when I sit down to write my resolutions.

Quitting - For the Second Time

A few years ago, I decided that I would quit drinking sodas just because I wanted to see if I was able to do it. At the time, I was an avid soda drinker - meaning I would drink at least 3 cans a day. I decided that I would quit cold turkey and see if I had enough willpower to get over my soda addiction. I was successful in my endeavor with no slip ups at all. It helped me lose some weight, too.

Fast forward about one year and I was in Honduras,with some sort of weird sickness that seemed to literally tearing the insides of my stomach into a thousand pieces. I was heavily nauseous and could barely sustain sitting up in bed, and I didn't even want to think about walking. I chalked this up to my body getting used to totally different types of bacteria, eating types of foods, and just a new environment in a different country. Javier persuaded me to take some alka-seltzer, which is, by far, the worst tasting medication in this entire world, hands down. After taking some, I was feeling a little bit better but I still wasn't completely healed, so he attempted to persuade me to take some more. I absolutely 100% refused, deciding that it was better to writhe in pain than take that horrid salty-water medication that made me want to gag.

But then he told me that if I took the alka-seltzer with some Coke, I wouldn't be able to even taste the medicine. After over one entire year of not touching any soda, I drank one glass with alka-seltzer and I got hooked again. Down in Honduras, the Coke is so much sweeter than the Coke we have in the USA. It is probably because they use pure sugar cane, but it's really, really sweet and delicious. I started drinking Coke on a regular basis and it again become part of my lifestyle. Everyone in Honduras drinks Coke. Everyone. Seriously, everyone. I think it's the country's national beverage.

After coming back to the USA, I decided that I was going to stop drinking soda because I wanted to lose weight and I knew that drinking less or no soda would help me in that goal. So on October 29, 2012, I stopped drinking soda again - cold turkey. There were times when I really craved it, but I did not give in. Only once Javier was drinking some Coke for dinner and took a tiny sip - but told him that it was just too sweet for me.

It has been helpful to quit drinking soda. There are times when I really want to drink some, but I tell myself no, that I've gone this long without it and instead I drink a Vitamin Water (0 calorie ones), water, or natural juices. It's also nice that it has helped me lose some weight. I'm down 25 pounds (going to the gym regularly as well), and although I have to lose a lot more, I know that by changing some of my dietary habits, it will be easier.

Wine & Laughing

I am slowly, but surely, completing some items on my 1001 list.

This past weekend was my sister's bachelorette party. My youngest sister and I had planned it via Skype because I was overseas at the time, and I was glad to see it all come to fruition. We planned a party that we thought my sister would enjoy with things that she was interested in. It just so happened that some of the things we planned were also on my 1001 list.

Wine Tasting
The first thing we did was go wine tasting at a winery in Indianapolis. It was really cool, only $5 for 7 different wines and a short tour. Let's be honest, we only really cared about the wine tasting. At the beginning, the guy gave us this sheet of paper with seven different "barrels" listed with two options for each barrel. He asked us to circle one for each barrel, indicating which of the two we wanted to try. Some of the wines were really good, and I even bought a bottle there. I reaffirmed that I like sweet wines and not dry ones, preferring white or blush wines over red wines. We also tried warm mulled wine which was... different. One of my sister's friends liked it so much that I just gave her the rest of mine. Thanks, but no thanks. The only thing that I wished was that the guy would have slowed down in explaining the things about the wine and giving us more time to taste each one before moving to the next. He went REALLY fast and we were practically drinking the wine like shots.... but it was only $5 so I guess I can't complain that much.

Live Comedy Club
This is the second thing on my 1001 that I accomplished this night. It was also something that we planned for the party, so after we all ate dinner at one of my sister's favorite restaurants, a limo picked us up and took us to the comedy club. We got seated at the front of the room (really cool, considering the room was really packed and we got there about 15 minutes before it started). There were three comedians - the host, a guest, and then the headliner. The guest comedian was really funny, I think her name was Amber Preston. I was dying laughing at all of her jokes. The headliner was Gary Gulman. He was also super funny, at one point tears were rolling down my cheeks from laughing so hard. I really enjoyed the experience there and I would go back to a comedy club another time, for sure.

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Javier and I are still adjusting to life here in the USA. We went today to get his Social Security card but he wasn't in the system yet so now it can take up to thirty days for immigration to verify his legal status here. I really hate how circular government systems are here. I tried to change my address at the bank today but they would not let me change it without a current ID, but then the BMV requires an updated address from the bank... uhhh? Luckily I read that they will allow someone that I'm living with to sign for me at the BMV, so on Wednesday my father will take me. Such a pain in my butt, honestly. Really frustrating.
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Planning the wedding is still going, too. Waiting on our save the dates to come in the mail and waiting for the lady to call us back about our ceremony site. I really hate that people take forever on things. Ugh!

Swimming the Caribbean Sea with Your Life in Suitcases

It's not very often that someone moves their entire life from one country to another and back again, all under two years. After meeting Javier and knowing that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, I undertook a rather risky feat of moving my life to Honduras by finding a job there, getting an apartment, and basically moving things from the US in two flights.

After we decided that we wanted to live our future married life in the USA, we started to research how to go about achieving that goal. I knew that any visa that he applied for would take a long time, so we decided that we were going to file for a visa when I went home in Christmas. I spent numerous hours pouring over information on the internet concerning the logistics of US visas, and we decided that our best move was to file for a fiance visa. It was a long and arduous process, one that I sincerely thought would never come to an end (in actuality, the visa is just the beginning - trust me, we have a ton of more paperwork to do).

I had made my life with Javier in Honduras. We had our apartment, our routines, our jobs. The problem was that my family was super far away and I missed them terribly. We had many discussions about sacrifices and hoping that our families would understand. We talked many nights about the realities of our future life - that one of us would have to sacrifice the time with one of our families in order to gain the time with the other person's. Before we even filed for the visa, we had long and lengthy discussions about what this move would mean for both of us - what it would mean for our families - and where we wanted our future kids to grow up.

It's hard, you know, to take in account that half of your family won't be around for important life events - simply because they live in another country. I made an inner promise that we would always stay in contact with Javier's family, and hopefully we could bring his mother over to the US from time to time to visit (or in the future, help us when the kids are born). I also made a promise that we would go visit them in Honduras.

I know that deep down it was hard for Javier to leave his country - the only place that he has ever known. It was deeply hard for me as well - I had made friends, I had many lovely students, I was used to the life there and how things ran, I was used to being around Javier's family. But receiving that visa was so worth all of the pain, stress, and worries. I knew that the visa would help us live the life that we had dreamed of in a place where we were both a little safer.

It has been a few weeks since we landed in the US, and so far things have been great. We have been planning our wedding, looking for jobs, spending a lot of time together, going to different events and out to eat. Javier has met all of my family, my grandparents, and has had the opportunity to do many things that we couldn't have done in Honduras. The weather is cold, but that will pass.

I think, overall, moving is hard. But I think it is harder when you move your entire life (the second move was two people's things - imagine all of the shit that I left behind!) overseas in suitcases, and the airline breaks two of your suitcases (true story). We have many plans for the future, so we will see what life brings us.

[Moving to the USA was one of my goals of my 1001 list, which you can view here.]

New Year, New Students

It's the end of week one!

The week one of school, that is. Classes began on Tuesday and it was probably one of the best weeks of my teacher life. I have an excellent homeroom, we started new wonderful routines that everyone seems to understand and follow, my new 5th graders are lovely and sweet, and I am just absolutely in love with how things have been going.

I have some work this weekend, but I don't feel overwhelmed by it. Sometimes it makes me feel like if I'm making some sort of small difference in at least one of my students' lives, I'm doing my job.

I remember when I was younger, maybe around 8 or 9, possibly 10, and my parents had gotten us some old desks from my elementary school when the school had bought new ones. They put them in our basement, hung up two chalkboards, and complete with old textbooks (I guess the school got new ones of those, as well), I would play School. I would write with different colored chalk on the boards, "call" on my "students," answer problems, read out loud, and do all of those teacher-y type things that I thought were awesome. I remember many days thinking that I wanted to be a teacher, but as I grew older, those thoughts flew out of window and got replaced with "horse trainer," "veterinarian," and "journalist." Some time during my studies for my master's degree, I realized that my initial thoughts of what my career was going to be was coming back into my brain.

After taking a class for teaching ESL, I fell in love with the idea that I could teach people English - something that I am really good at - and help them with something that they wanted to do - and maybe, in the grand scheme of things, affect and/or change some lives. My original idea was to head off to the Peace Corps to teach English in some country that no one had ever heard of, but after a turn of events (meeting my fiance), Honduras seemed to be my calling. First, I thought that my expertise would be with adult learners (which I thoroughly enjoyed working with in the USA) but after switching jobs and signing a contract with an elementary school, I knew RIGHT THEN that my true career was teaching English in the primary grades. It sometimes saddens me that in order to teach primary in the US, I would have to go back to school (again!) to get my teaching license, and thinking that it won't be a viable option for over one year, I will have to learn that I can make the same sort of waves with older students that I can with my sweet 5th and 6th graders.

Teaching overseas has taught me many lessons, mostly about myself. When I was younger, I was really shy and not even close to self-confident. But when you teach, and especially when you teach kids, you MUST be confident and project self-worth. Many of my students look to me for personal advice, many of them come to me crying about a problem or a situation, and many times I am the only one who can give them that one hug that will make the pain disappear for a moment. I never have felt nervous teaching, I have never felt unsure about myself. I have always felt that I CAN and WILL be the teacher that they learn valuable and useful lessons from - inside and outside of the classroom - and that for years from now, when they are much older and I'm already back in the US with kids hanging off my hips, some of my students will still remember me as their sixth grade homeroom teacher or their 5th/6th grade English teacher or the teacher who helped them solve a problem/issue or cheered them on during a sports game.

And years from now, when I'm back in the US with kids hanging off my hips, I'll look back at this almost 2 years in Honduras, and remember all of the good times I spent with my fiance, but also all of the times that I spent at school fielding questions, comments, concerns, and laughing my butt off at something hilarious that my student came up with on the spot.

In the HN

These past two weeks have been quite a whirlwind for me. First, we went back to work on July 29 and I've been here at school almost every day since then. We've had tons of meetings (mostly in Spanish, often I blank out because I get tired of trying to translate into English, but the other day I listened as much as I could and I probably understand 75% of what they were saying without needing to translate inside my head), I've decorated my classroom to the brim with stars, I've planned my lessons for next week, finished my syllabus for the first bimester, and done many other teacher-y types of things.

The best news from the past two weeks is that Javi has received his appointment date for his visa! *cue high-voice singing*

I was at work one day and decided to check my email on the off chance that we would get news of the appointment. I checked it, and I only had junk. At the same time, two more emails came through and one was the appointment email! I felt so happy in that moment and I called Javi right away to tell him. In two months, exactly, we will be sitting at the embassy waiting for his appointment and getting his visa!

The news of the visa is very bittersweet. It has been a very long road to this point, considering we started putting together everything about a year ago and sent off the petition in January. Since then it has been mostly constant waiting. I'm eager to be back in the US because there are many things that I miss from there, and I know that raising our kid in the US will be a better environment for them, but I often wonder about what things I will miss about living here.

So, in no particular order, the Honduran things that I will most likely miss:
1. the weather - it's nearly always hot, and I really love hot weather (most of the time) that I will miss it especially when winter begins back in the US;
2. the bread - Hondurans make really yummy bread and you can buy a lot for cheap;
3. my co-workers - I have two really great co-workers at my job and after spending so much time with them, it will be hard to not work with them anymore;
4. spending the afternoon at the mall - here people go to the mall just because, probably because the mall has everything you need to spend the afternoon: shops, food, and movies;
5. Javi's family - they took me in when I was first here and treat me like their own daughter, so it will be especially hard to say goodbye to them;
6. fruit sellers/street vendors/meat vendors - people here sell fruit, meat, other various items in the street and I don't know why but I really enjoy that;
7. being close to the beach - it's only one hour away and it's on the SEA, not the lake;
8. the juices - I don't know why but Hondurans make really good natural juices... mmmm.

Now, things I will not miss:
1. ants - they are everywhere!;
2. dogs barking at everything at any time - that's self-explanatory;
3. hand washing my clothes;
4. waiting for my clothes to dry in the sun, and if there is no sun, having to bring them inside and blow them with a fan;
5. a lot of dirt/dust - makes my house dirty;
6. the weather - it's really hot haha!!

I love living overseas, and I especially living overseas with Javi, and maybe one day we will be able to do that again.

Kate

Setting New Goals

A few weeks ago, I wrote a list called the "101 in 1001." It took me about one week to complete, and a lot of thinking. The reason why I wrote it is because sometimes I feel like my life can get a little mundane and routine. I wanted to give myself a test to complete all of the goals on the list - as little or as big as they seem to me at this moment. Some of the goals that I wrote are going to be really hard for me to achieve, while some will be a piece of cake. Some of them don't even rely on my direct involvement but it's part of my life that I want to see happen before 3 years from now.

I added a new page to this blog that gives you the entire list, and will gladly blog about completing every goal.

It's hard for sometimes to see all the good things that I have in my life, especially when I'm living somewhere that I have hardly any independence. Most days it is increasingly hard to do things without the help from someone, but these past days I've tried to do things myself as much as I can - even to the point where I can get a drink or lunch at work by myself, instead of relying on my co-workers to translate for me. I'm starting to feel much more comfortable in my Spanish skills, but I'm far from being fluent and I'm far from actually holding a normal conversation. But I know that deep down, I'm trying and that is what matters to me the most.

There are some things that I wish could happen RIGHT NOW, but those are things that are completely out of my control so I'm learning to just let go. I tend to be a bit "controlling" but I'm trying to learn to just relax, knowing that everything will happen as it should and when it is supposed to. So I'm feeling good these days, and trying to focus on the positive things instead of dwelling on things that I cannot change.

I still miss my family and friends in the US, but leaving here means leaving my family and friends here. Such a conundrum.

Social Work & Soccer

At the end of the school year, there are 1001 activities that the students and teachers need to complete. Today, we took our 6th graders to complete their mandatory Social Work. The students each provided a new desk/chair combination to another school in the city. We traveled to that school today to deliver the chairs, share time with the other students, pass out cake, candies and sodas, and play some soccer with them. The other school was a completely Spanish school, unlike the English school that I teach at, but after so long in this country, I'm used to being around Spanish. We started the morning with the National Anthem, the Pledge, and some words by the school's principal and by my co-worker. Then our students went classroom to classroom, passing out slices of cake, soda and bags of candy.

It was a nice trip and many of the students who were really helping surprised me. We expected the students to help serving the cake and other things. Many of them stepped up to the plate to do just that, some of them going over and above what needed to be done. To be honest, I really saw true characters in those students.

This brings me to the point that I really want to continue to do volunteer work when Javier and I return back to the USA. When I was younger, I did some volunteer work at an animal shelter, but I think that when we return, it would be a nice way to give back to whatever community we are living in. We can find an organization that we are interested in and give some time weekly to help others -- people, animals, nature, whatever it is that we fancy. I like that. It would also be a way for Javier to give back to the community where he living and feel more involved.

After we returned to school, we had some classes (finally my 5th graders finished their research reports, and we are going to watch a video tomorrow that I made especially for them), and for the last half of the afternoon, I took my 5th graders out to play soccer instead of sit in the stifling classroom doing nothing.

You know that my students love to play soccer. It's fairly common in this country and many kids play soccer with just about anything that they can get their hands on, including caps of bottles. Sincerely, I never thought kids could be so obsessed with the game of soccer, but here in Latino countries, that is how it is. What strikes me as funny is that 40 kids can be playing on ONE field with ONE ball, and it makes no difference to them.

I'll miss most of my kids when I leave. :[

Been a long, but very long, time...

Time has flown. Literally. The last time I wrote was the beginning of the school year and in less than two weeks, it is the end of the school year.

Writing has been the last thing on my mind, considering that my job is pretty much demanding and when I arrive home, I either: a) continue working/grading, b) take a nap, c) watch tv with Javier and try to relax, or d) make dinner. Thankfully the end of the school year has created a lot of free time for me when I arrive home, but next week I will certainly be grading until my eyes fall from my head because of final exams.

I've been very, very happy with my job this year and I've enjoyed most of the moments there. There are many of my (150) students who I love and cherish deeply, who have impacted my life in numerous, wonderful ways and who I will miss desperately when we return to the USA. I have met people who I would consider my new lifelong friends, who I have spent good and bad moments with, who have shared in my moments of joy (my engagement, my birthday, discussing wedding planning) and in my moments of sadness (Javier's denial of a visitor visa, feelings of desperation about being far from home). Those are the people that I wish, pray and hope that I never lose touch with. Thank goodness for things like Facebook and email, otherwise I'd fear that I'd never see their lovely faces again.

The wait for Javier's fiance visa has been pretty long, and the US immigration hasn't even approved our petition yet. I'm hoping that he will have his visa in August but we don't know yet. I'm crossing my fingers.

I'm ready go back to the USA, but I know 100% sure that I will miss, dearly, the people that I have met here and the people who I'm close with here. Friends are friends regardless of places, cultures, countries, etc. And I want it to remain like that.

New School Year!

To be honest, the only excuse that I have for not writing sooner is "I've been busy." It's mostly true but some nights I literally do nothing but talk to people over Facebook and drown my brain in reality TV.

School started on August 8 and the two weeks before that, I spent all day at school doing training sessions, decorating my classroom, working on syllabi and a plethora of other things to start the school year. When we started classes on the 8th, I felt extremely overwhelmed. I had to learn the names of almost 130 students and some of the names I have a really hard time pronouncing. I was hoping that the students would like me, but honestly, after the first day, I was wishing that they would just listen. The thing is that I went into the school year with some preconceived notion that 5th and 6th graders were just little adults but then I was hit with the brick wall that they would much rather talk to their friends than listen to anything a teacher has to say. That was a shock to my system that I certainly wasn't ready for. I don't know where I came up with the idea that everything would run perfectly smooth, that I would never have to yell or raise my voice, and that my students would be angels but after Day 1, that thought went out the window.

Now, I think my students are bright individuals and they all have a lot of potential but I sometimes struggle with the discipline. I hate yelling at kids and I try not to but I can also not be so strict because I don't want them to hate me (lol, so lame!!). I guess it's a work in progress.

I think my classes are going well. I teach English and Writer's Workshop. My kids can come up with some funny, awesome ideas. But they need to focus on their grammar and spelling. I have to somehow include that in the English syllabus but I'm not sure how. We have to follow the curriculum too so we will see.

I am tired when I get home from work but not exhausted. I feel the energy to do normal things and I love having weekends free. I usually do work every night but tonight I think I'm going to relax :)

Blue Day

Sometimes there are days like today, where I want to do nothing more than throw myself in bed and do nothing until the sun rises again tomorrow morning. And it's days like today where I miss my family desperately, wanting so much to be again in my mother's house and losing my dad in the mess he has created in his office. I don't know why it sometimes happens but every so often, I feel a needy longing to be back in the States with my parents and sisters, doing nothing but watching some stupid TV show, waiting for my mom to finish baking her famous chocolate chip cookies, waiting until someone walks away from the kitchen to sneak one or maybe two. And it's not like I don't miss my family on a daily basis - because trust me, I do - but there are some days where it's more prominent in my mind that I am, indeed, hours away by plane and the only contact that I have with them is through the computer.

Yet I have to continue to remind myself that no matter where I am in this world, I will be making some sort of sacrifice. If I want to be near my parents and my family, it means Javi has to come with me and right now, that situation is simply not plausible. There are things that need to finished here before we can go to the States for an extended period of time. Visas are hard to get, money is even harder, and life sometimes requires that a person is pushed outside of their comfort zone just long enough to understand exactly what needs to be done in order to create everything that you want in life.

The thing is that I like living here. It has nothing to do with this place or the people or anything. It's just a longing desire to have everyone around me that I love, all in the same place. Some days it's really difficult to deal with the fact that being here means not seeing my parents, but being in the States means not being by Javi. So the decision to come here and sacrifice time with my family helps me to remember that one day when we are married, we can go anywhere we want. That I can be around my family if that is the logical choice for us. Unfortunately decisions for the future lie in a lot of present circumstances. Finishing school. Finding jobs. Getting visas. All that shit and a lot of luck.

I don't know where I was particularly going with all these thoughts and words, but it ended up here. I guess spilling out random, strung-out, garbles thoughts are all I have for today. Nothing fancy and nothing pretty and certainly nothing tied up with a big pink bow.

I'm human just like everyone else and some days, I miss my family and my cats and the dog that drives me crazy. But living and working in a different country makes you see the inside of yourself and what you are capable of. And that is something I don't want to give up on just because I have one sad day.

The fact that I'm essentially here for love is something to remember, too.

Noises of the Night

Last night, I woke up approximately 9, 10, maybe 11 times. Not because I wasn't tired because trust me, I was. The issue - which, by the way, is a persistent one - is that this neighborhood, or maybe this country in general, is very loud in the wee morning hours. It lures me into a false sense of security as my eyelids fall down and I think that tonight I will finally have that one, restful, peaceful night where nothing and no one disturbs my beauty sleep. But soon, my eyes flutter awake by the tiny noise of a dog barking in the distance - maybe on the next street or a few houses down. And quickly, without warning, the entire street blows up into all the dogs from every house barking as if the world is ending. It goes on for what feels like minutes upon minutes, five passing into ten passing in to fifteen. In reality, it's probably one or two but in the state I am (which is, half-asleep and wondering where the hell I currently am) it feels like it is never-ending. This particular event happens a few times a night, and what sucks is that the dogs are usually barking at one of the following things:

1. a cat, especially the stupid orange and white male cat that walks so slowly down the street, it is like he is making the dogs go crazy intentionally;
2. a piece of paper/the wind;
3. communicating with another dog, just because;
4. nothing.

Finally they settle the hell down and I go back to sleep. But, wait! At 5 am, or maybe 6, the neighbor's stupid baby chicken decides, in his almighty highly-pitched voice, to squeak... and squeak... and squeak. And I pray that that chicken is a female and not a male because I cannot fathom the idea of a rooster one day waking me up with all his cockadoodledo's and shit, just because the neighbors wanted to raise a chicken. We live in a big city, and let me tell you, I always thought chickens lived in the country. I guess not! And please don't think I'm a bad person, but it has crossed my mind a few times that I wish they would just kill it off soon so I don't have to listen to it's little voice go on and on in the morning about nothing.

Over the past months, I've gotten used to listening to the different noises of the night. But the chicken has put me over the edge just a little bit. I don't particularly like my neighbors in this moment because of the chicken, the constant leaf sweeping (every morning, really?) and their loud friend who comes to talk on the phone at 7 or 8 am (what the hell?).

I want to shout "Peace and Quiet!" "Peace and Quiet for those of us who are on vacation for the next two weeks!!"

But then I remember, they won't understand me.

Fourth of July

American holidays change when you are living in a different country. Mostly, people don't even know it is a holiday for you. For everyone else, it's simply a normal day. But in the age of technology where most of my communication home rests upon Facebook updates, emails, tweets and Skype, I was constantly reminded that yesterday was, indeed, the Fourth of July. Now I didn't forget that it was, but somewhere in my mind I wanted to pretend that it didn't exist. That yesterday was just a normal Monday and nothing special was happening. People all over my Facebook feed were updating with pictures of parades, fireworks, yummy American BBQ*, and all of the things that I have associated with the 4th since I was born.

*"BBQ" = hamburgers, hot dogs, cole slaw, chips, beer, steak, corn on the cob... all that yummy stuff that I missed yesterday

The thing is that the 4th isn't the first holiday that I've spent away from the USA. The first was Easter. But the connotation of Easter isn't as strong as the one of the 4th, for me. When I think about Easter, it's just my whole family sitting around at my Grandma's house waiting for the ham and then eating. But the Fourth of July is something totally different.

When I was younger, my entire family would come over my house - grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, family friends. Everyone would walk to the parade, sit on the blankets and reap the rewards (candies) of fighting the other kids on the street for the handouts. Then we would return to my house, eat food, talk, swim, play Bocce Ball and basketball. My driveway would be full of cars, spilling out into the street. Kids would be running everywhere, the older ones keeping track of the younger ones. I specifically remember one 4th where my cousin ran over my Ken doll repeatedly with his bike and ever since then, my Ken had scraps all over his manly plastic chest.

When night fell, the entire neighborhood came out and blew off fireworks. We would all sit in my front lawn and watch the fireworks from the Fairgrounds. During the "ground shows," my dad and my uncles would take turns shooting off our own fireworks. It was always a spectacular holiday, full of family, food, fun, laughter... and capped off by being able to write my name in the dark night sky by using a sparkler as the ink.

As I grew older, the number of people dwindled until it just became my immediate family. And I was ok with that. It was a day of relaxation -- we still swam in the pool, my dad still took us to get hundreds of dollars worth of fireworks, we still bbq'ed. It slowly but surely became my favorite holiday.

But this year was different. I wasn't home for the 4th. I didn't get to see my dad blow off fireworks and almost set the tree on fire like always (except for the year when he actually did set it on fire). I didn't get to sit on the back deck eating steak and hoping that the flies would stay away long enough.

Even though I missed all of that, in my heart I was there.

The Magical Fruit

Growing up, my family didn't eat a lot of beans. In fact, my idea of beans were only in Minestrone soup. And we never, ever fried them. Our protein consisted of what 'normal' Americans eat: chicken, beef, pork. But these little red things? Never.

I knew I liked beans and was willing to get used to them because I was well aware of the fact that typical Hondurans eat beans every day. For the first week or so, I religiously ate beans -- in the grain, mashed, blended and fried... any way possible. I ate a lot, I ate a little, I just ate what was served to me.

But one or two weeks later, my stomach had had enough beans. It was simply rejecting all the goodness from the frijoles and decided to make me as sick as a dog. So I didn't eat the beans that I so much enjoyed and had to slowly recover from feeling sick almost the entire time I was awake. I drank a lot of Alka-Seltzer water (gross) and laid around, pain shooting through my stomach and body like I had been torturing it.

It took me a while to recover from the sickness, taking medicine and drinking so much water I think I almost exploded. Now, I eat beans daily. It's weird not to eat beans. Actually my typical diet has changed so much that if I eat a heavy dinner consisting of meat, potatoes, etc. I feel sick. My body has adjusted to beans, tortillas, cheese and maybe hot dogs/chorizo/bologna for dinner. It's a strange concept to have changed your dietary habits after 25 years of eating the same things, but it doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would.

Hondurans have a typical food called the Baleada, which is a freakin' joy to eat and one day soon, I'll describe in depth this amazing, simple, easy food.