Stephanie M. Tyler

Currently Reading 2/19/20

Published on February 19, 2020 by Stephanie M. TylerLeave a comment

As some may know, I am considered an English language arts or literacy teacher in the United States of America. Currently I reside in New Jersey. Currently, I teach middle school. specifically eighth graders. Also currently, I am reading several books at once. People may have their theories, but I am so heavily influenced by my moods that I can’t help but read what I want when I want because I am also an entitled first world millennial.

So now I have a book for just about every mood I’m in. Here are my current reads that I’m chipping away at:

Little Women (a nice long fictional tale that sweeps me out of reality and brings me to a life which I wistfully emerge myself in and smile at the end of every chapter.)
We Got This (a book for teachers about teaching, why we do it and how to do it better. I need to read more of it, but reading professional development is harder as the year continues.)
Dune (a ridiculously long audio book that Chris started when we drove from Missouri to NJ and I didn’t understand a word of it so I started it again on my commutes home from work. It’s sci-fi and complicated for my brain so it immediately gets my mind off work) – Just finished today! 2/19/20
Rhythms of Renewal: Trading Stress and Anxiety for a Life of Peace and Purpose (a book my mom got me and my sisters for Christmas – I am enjoying the first few chapters so far!)
Call of the Wild (a classic that I realized I never actually read and I am grimacing as I read the short text. It is more violent than I realized. It was suggested as a read for my eighth graders but I don’t think I can stomach teaching it. Don’t worry – I have other options.)
A Glass House (Another one that I can only handle so much of the sadness and tragic scenarios. When children are groped, I have to put down the book. Although I know it’s a truth-telling story and the author is telling her childhood which she emerged victorious, I am still having a hard time picking the book back up again. I’ve had enough sadness in life that I have a hard time reading about it in my minimal free time.)

I am sure that I have technically started and stopped reading more books, but this is where I’ll stop writing now and see if you have any suggestions about solid books.

Growing Up Schroepfer: Part 2

Published on February 10, 2020February 13, 2020 by Stephanie M. TylerLeave a comment

Growing up, Christmas day was quite a production. We had our own cozy morning with “just us.” (See previous post part one.)

Then around noon or so, we would head out for a day full of extended family. Showered and dressed for the festivities, but not too fancy, I would look forward to crawling around the floor of my grandma’s house with my cousins as part of the wolf pack. But before the wolf pack adventures, we would stop at my grandparents house in Jackson, NJ.

My grandparents house was not ordinary. According to Zillow, it was built in 1916. It was formerly a cranberry farm and the cranberry house is technically still standing, although it’s glory days are past. They used to use it as a farm when they were raising my mom, aunts and uncles. They had at least one cow and chickens. I would have to find out if there were more animals. They grew vegetables and fruit and sold it at little farm market in front of their house. My mom remembers a gentleman driving all the way from New York for tomatoes from my grandparents farm.

It is still a beauty to be seen as a relic of history and seasons. The chicken coop turned club house and the barn turned storage, my cousins and I had adventures in the six acre wood behind the farming area. We would tuck in our socks and follow our own path to our secret spot. One of us found a circle of trees that fit the five of us perfectly. We roped it off with twine and sticks, added a old little cabinet to hide our treasures and secrets. We swore an oath (not blood though) that no one could know about our spot. We giggled in delight at our secret hideout. It was dubbed, “The Sanctuary.”

My grandparents had five children and their spouses, significant others, and offspring could not all congregate in the same room at the same time. Because the house was compact enough, the many rooms still did not feel too separate from each other. The cousins could gathered around the kitchen table, play room, or upstairs in “the girls’ room” and still hear the conversation of the parents in the living room at the center of the farmhouse.

Back at Grandma and Pop-Pop’s, we opened presents without fuss or presentation. We younger cousins would exchange amongst ourselves (when we hit puberty and started to get allowance) just because we liked each other. These would be given semi-discreetly because we didn’t get gifts for all the cousins. Grandparent gifts were given and opened in front of our grandparents when deemed the right time- usually close to leaving time.

After lunch, giggles, and gifts in Jackson, we would get back into the car with some new goodies. We could get onto 195 and be at Grandma’s in 15 minutes. When we were close to getting off the highway, I would lean with my forehead pressed to the window to see her house from the exit ramp. I thought it was the neatest thing.

Again, I will have to continue another time. This is too long for one blog post.

Growing Up Schroepfer: Part 1

Published on January 26, 2020February 13, 2020 by Stephanie M. Tyler1 Comment

Ever since I graduated from college, Christmases have changed. At this point, it’s kind of interesting to try to figure out what’s going to happen this years.

For the longest time, my Christmases went like this: Christmas Eve was a delicious dinner of Boston Market with all the fixings followed by a late night church service. We would get all dressed up in reds, golds, and greens.

One of the years my dad was on the worship team, the worship team sang the Christmas songs with their family members gathered behind them. I remember singing on stage with other kids and other adults while the regular team members played as usual or sang into the mics. No rehearsals, just singing the carols that night. It’s one of those memories that’s fuzzy but very warm to my heart.

Then after the Christmas Eve service, we would come back home, light these fragile angel chimes carousel. It was the neatest thing to see the heat from the candles turn the angels round and round. I could watch it all night. My mom would put out cookie tin and various little desserts. My dad worked in a school plus was a part-time pastor. People liked to give him and his family gifts. As a kid, I looked forward to seeing what new sugar infused gift he would come home with next. Those were a fun surprise because you wanted to know what he would come home with on the last day before the Christmas break. It made Christmas Eve all the more exciting with new desserts on our dining table.

On Christmas Eve, we would open one gift, which was most likely Christmas pajamas or something similarly cozy to use that night. It was a cozy evening that usually went late and then we would head off to bed to wake in the morning.

Now, contrary to most Americans, I did not grow up believing in Santa Claus. For a little bit, one of my cousins talked me into believing that he only came to houses that had fireplaces. She was older, cooler, and clearly wiser than me, so I believed her… or at least nodded along until we left her fire-place house. But oddly enough, it didn’t really stick and I kind of forgot about it. However, contrary to popular belief that Santa adds “magic” to your childhood, I still feel like I had a magical childhood.

The Christmas mornings before I was seven have a sparkly and yet fuzzy magic to them. We still lived at the Ronald Road ranch and I remember walking out to presents spread out under the glowing tree. One year we each got a leopard stuffed animal. My little sister and I got the baby leopards and my older sister got the beautiful mama leopard. I might have been jealous at the time, but I don’t think so now. I loved my little leopard.

The oldest and fuzziest Christmas morning memory is one where it’s still dark outside. It was hard to even see the tree except for the colorful lights on it. I would have to ask my mom to verify this, but I remember each of us had a small stuffed animal that was not wrapped on top of the presents. I think they were little grey bunnies that had “water” in them so they seemed “real,” according to the marketing team. Either way, I loved mine until the soft fur felt more like steel wool.

After the presents were opened in the morning, we would have a scrumpious breakfast of varying sorts. Those teacher/pastor gifts my dad received would come in handy on Christmas morning as well. We had assorted sausage, or cheese, or jam gift boxes that added to the morning festiveness. It was quite nice.

Around noon or so, we would head out for a day full of extended family. Showered and dressed for the festivities, but not too fancy, I would look forward to crawling around the floor of my grandma’s house with my cousins as part of the wolf pack. But before the wolf pack adventures, we would stop at my grandparents farmhouse in Jackson, NJ.

I will have to continue another time. This is too long for one blog post.

Aunt and Uncle Life

Published on January 19, 2020 by Stephanie M. TylerLeave a comment

Aunt and Uncle Life. It’s kind of a big deal.

When I married Chris, I officially became the aunt. (It was unofficial up until then.)

When we got our own place, Chris was so stoked about having sleepovers with the kids and since 2016, every few weeks, we have all three sleepover.

Checking out my new pet fish, Nora Ursa Minor.

Brooke, the eldest, loves to create and plan. About six or seven months ago, on our way back from a sleepover, she wrote down a list of sleepover themes while we helped brainstorm ideas: baking, karaoke, Magic School Bus, blue, pink, Jurassic Park, Power Rangers, etc.

Since the themes have started, we have done the following: baking, Harry Potter, Jumanji, Magic School Bus, travel to a hotel, and the color blue.

I get exhausted.
I can become overwhelmed.
I can be sensitive when the pancakes are “not like mom makes them.”

However, I remember how time flies.
I remember how I loved karaoke with my aunt on several New Years Eves.
I remember how talking to a nonparent adult relative felt exciting and cool as a kid.

I love these kids so much. They don’t need to be blood related; they have my heart. Having them over is a continual joy. Seeing them each week makes my heart glad.

Little Abi, middle child, is full of exuberant energy and unstoppable giggles. She used to claim every time that she stayed up all night with us when she would fall asleep during a movie and wake up the next day: “I can’t believe I stayed up all night!” Now, as a ferocious seven year old, she is the last one to fall asleep and has great potential of leading our first all-nighter.

Big little Joshy started out sleeping over at the ripe age of two! For the first year, we would forget to make him use the potty before bedtime so every time around 2am I would get up, change his diaper, change the sheets, give him a warm bottle of milk and watch him fall back asleep. Now he’s sleeping through the night and showing Uncle Chris his latest Pokemon cards.

Brooke is starting to wear lipgloss, borrow my clothes (if they’re small on me), and do her hair in the morning after sleepovers.

As much as I can get exhausted or overwhelmed about these events, I want to do them this way. I want to build an event that screams how much I love these kiddos.

#Goals

Published on January 10, 2020January 12, 2020 by Stephanie M. TylerLeave a comment

Chris and I have set some high goals for ourselves this year. Each of us have set three specific goals for each week. We will evaluate at the end of the quarter year and either adjust or adopt a new one because now these goals have become healthy habits. We’ll track our progress on one of these wonderfully big calendars and reward ourselves at the end of each week if we have accomplished each and every goal.

One of my big audacious goals writing more: Write at least three times during the week for 30 minutes a piece and post at least one blog each week. I think I’ve written a blog post twice in the past 4-5 years, but the decision to set this goal was almost automatic- I knew it was something I should strive to do. The more people I told, the more intimidated and fraudulent I felt. One person responded in excitement and encouragement that I would be writing again. That felt good in my heart. Then as I was driving the 45 minute commute home today, I started getting ideas. I started getting inspired. I started getting excited. I started caring less about opinions and caring more about what a blessing it would be for me. I started talking to my Auto Echo about ideas. I need to let my words out.

Over the next year, I hope to write about our adventures as a couple and the beatings of my heart. I created a blog at the end of college and I created this blog when Chris and I were getting married. I will post on both.

So even though I have another hour of writing to reach my writing goal, I’ve decided this will be my first blog post, I’ve got 51 more to go, so I will start with this. Thank you for listening.