While I’m not exactly sure just how much readership I’ll get from this, and I don’t suppose that’s the point anyway, I thought I’d write about something I know quite a bit about as my first article. Along with my wonderfully generous and completely understanding husband, I have been raising our daughter, who is now seven and in Second Grade. I was lucky enough to not have to work the entire nine months I was pregnant with her and didn’t go back to work until she was six months old. I was also lucky enough to find affordable daycare, and when my then sixteen-year-old stepson dropped out of high school and was unable to find employment, I let him take over watching his sister.
One month turned into two and when it was finally over and I could afford Preschool, eighteen months had passed. As fate would have it, I ended up losing said job and was back to square one. Once again I was a stay-at-home mom and trying in vain to find gainful employment. When my daughter started attending Kindergarten at our local elementary school, I was bound and determined to be the best homeroom mother, ever. I would walk with her to school and get her into the classroom for breakfast (even if I had to stand around and wait for it to be 8:50 a.m.). Then I would some days stay in the classroom for at least two hours and head out before lunchtime so I could go home and look for a job.
Six months into school, the then principal asked me if I knew of anyone or if I myself would be interested in becoming an Instructional Assistant (teacher’s aide). After being unemployed for nearly eighteen months, I jumped at the chance to work at the school and be near my daughter on a daily basis. I went for the 60 credit hours through a local college (I had to pay a $50 fee to use the computer and pay for the tests). Three and one-half hours later I had the results and had received my Associate of Arts in Paraprofessional with flying colors. About three weeks after that I was hired on full time to be an English Language Learner Instructional Assistant, which means I work with children who don’t speak very good English and teach them how to read.
I do a lot more than that now two years later, but I’m still enjoying my career. So much so that I decided at the age of forty-four to return to college and get a degree in Early Childhood Education. However, after a year of that, I changed my mind once again, quit college for a few months until I could decide what I really wanted to do. I decided to become a Child Psychologist and am now attending a community college (100 percent online) getting my Associate of Science in Psychology minoring in Education. More on this later.