Teaching – Adventure With Brendan

Why I Changed Houses And Jobs

September 10, 2022Brendan Scott

This is a love story. A story of choosing love of my wife, my family, and myself over comfort and safety. This is about trusting God no matter what.

If you are an avid Adventure With Brendan reader, other than my parents, you might be wondering where I’ve been. It’s been about Six ish months since I last checked in, and in those past months, April and I have sold our house, bought a new one, and I have changed jobs. I didn’t go into 2022 thinking of changing anything other than maybe Sofia’s diapers. I am an expert at this as she only cries a little when I put her on the changing pad. I’ve learned that Sofia likes to hold a toy when being changed. As for all my changes, I’ve only cried a little.

Back in May right as the school year was ending, we were packing up our first house. We bought this house at the right time back in 2019 before the housing market really took fire and now we were moving out. A couple of weeks before I had thought that moving out over the last weekend of school would be perfect. It was perfectly stressful so the tears I shed when April and I stood in our first house, now empty and clean, were ones of relief and sorrow. We decided to sell our house and move because we want to have a larger family. Our first house was a blessing. Sofia was born there, well not literally. It was in the area my parents grew up in and so close to my grandpa’s house and my grandma’s apartment making it an endearing familiar location, and it gave April and me the ability to start gardening. But with a little baby, two dogs, and April’s parents living with us, we needed more room. In the extremely hot housing market, our first house blessed us with the ability to buy a new one.

This change wasn’t easy. Our old house was close to my work, but I was willing to look at houses closer to April’s job because she’d been driving over an hour a day and now that we have Sofia, I knew that her drive needed to be shortened. Yet, finding a new house was a challenge. One that reminded me of dating or trying to date while being a middle schooler. When I was in middle school I probably had crushes on at least ten girls at a time. I would fixate on one girl who was at the top of my list, but always be too shy to talk to her. Then a new girl would enter my life. Maybe she was in my church group or in a new class. Anyway, she would jump to the top of the list and I would be okay that the previous girl at the top of my list hadn’t worked out. How does this connect to house buying. Well, April and I started house hunting over a year ago, which means all of the houses we liked were ones we couldn’t even pursue as we had to sell our house first to qualify for a loan. This helped me hold lightly to what might be my dream home. I would fixate on a home, like I used to fixate on that girl back in middle school. Dream about what our lives would be like there, and then someone else would buy it. No matter, the next week another house would pop up and I would love it and dream about it and then have to move on because it too would be taken off the market in days. Well, then we sold our house and had the money to buy. So we were now actually hunting for our new home and the houses we were dreaming about were real options. But I knew I needed to hold onto the feelings I had for the possible new house lightly. Just like my middle school crushes, the cute new house would infatuate me, but then vanish, only to be replaced by a new one the very next week. April and I had a list of houses we loved. If only we could have this one we would have such the house! But this other one is so amazing we could do house things there! We would say. But we held each house crush loosely. We even pulled an offer on a house that had a basketball court in the back yard. Because we were willing to be patient. I knew there would be a hot new house just like in middle school there was always a hot new crush in my life. So no need for heartbreak when it didn’t work out. This way of living is what led me to April, the hottest crush of all time and then eventually to our new home. God led us to the right house. Even when we were waiting to see if our offer was going to be accepted, I knew it would be okay.

I knew it would be okay because I had April by my side. I might not have talked to very many of my middle school crushes, but now God lets me talk to April every day. We get to look into each others’ eyes and smile. Her smile lights up my eyes and reminds me of God’s grace. Grace for all the middle school failures at love. Grace for wanting perfection the first try. Our first house wasn’t perfect. April and I are learning how to love perfectly, through God’s perfect love. His love has called me to sacrifice for my hottest crush of all time. So when we found our house and our offer was accepted, I was willing to have the longer drive to work. For the past eight years I have worked for Jefferson Jr. Sr. High School. I have built life long friendships with my coworkers and even some of my students. But I felt God asking me to choose my family over my job. Working in a title one school comes with its joys and its traumas. Over the last year I have written about my time in therapy. On the last day of school I told all of my freshmen how much I loved them and I was excited to see them after the summer, I meant it. And then I found out I had a job interview at Regis Jesuit, a school I applied to when God challenged me to think about change and as a bonus one less than ten minutes away from my new home. I knew if I were offered the job at Regis Jesuit, I would take it because I love my wife and my family. As much trauma as I have felt with at Jefferson, I was willing to go back because of my students and coworkers, but I want to be a husband who is their both physically and emotionally for my wife and my kids (Sofia and her doggy brothers Gryffin and Phoenix). Driving more than an hour a day isn’t what I wanted for them. So when the interview went well I cried a bit. Changes is difficult, but my family is work it. After a weekend of prayer, I called Regis Jesuit back and accepted their offer. I am excited to start my new job, but at the same time, I’m going to miss all my old students. I messaged many of them so that they would know how much I care for them. All of them said that my new school was going to be lucky and that my new students would love me too.

So I started my new job a month ago and I love it. The change has been very good. I changed because I love my wife and I want to trust God with a new adventure. He will take care of the students I left behind. He will love on them and provide for them. He brought me into a new house and a new job because he wants me to live a love story. One where I choose Him and then my wife and Sofia (who just turned one two weeks ago!) over everything.

Six Months of Dad Life Has Me Stunned!

March 25, 2022Brendan Scott

Sofia has giggled her way into my life and stollen my heart along the way. I had no doubt that this was going to happen when she burst into our lives six months ago (ok, officially seven months tomorrow, but dang where did the time go?). But I didn’t know exactly how much my life would change.

The moment she was born I knew I couldn’t stay the man I was, even if maybe I was a good man. I had to learn to say no! Not to Sofia, at least not yet. I have to say no at my job. I’ve been a teacher for well over a decade and I love my students, but if I want to be more than a good man, and maybe even a good dad, my baby girl has to be a priority.

The first no was a very difficult one because it was to a good thing. Before the pandemic, I coached high school girls basketball. We weren’t the winningest team, but we were a team built on love. As much as I love my girls team, I had to say no to coaching basketball this year. My former team needed an assistant coach at the start of the year and I wanted to say yes, but I knew I needed to be home with Sofia. Saying no gave me time to take Sofia on walks, soar her through the air, and change her diapers. Fortunately me saying no to basketball was also good for the team. They ended up winning nine games this year!

Saying no to work has challenges. I am not sure my new boss is a fan of work life balance. When I was on paternity leave, she made it clear she wanted me to keep working. Even going as far as telling me that my grades weren’t posting when I was on break. Since I have been back to work, she keeps insinuating things about working more, but I’ve been learning to balance my job and little Sofia (as well as April, Gryffin, and Phoenix). I am not sure I have been successful, which might be why this blog is coming out a month late. Whatever is happening though, I want to choose my family first.

I love the students I teach, but when I first started teaching I thought I could pursue my dreams of writing creatively (not just blogging and you all might have noticed that’s been a struggle lately too). But I have had to say no to any writing due to emotional exhaustion. Even in the summer after the school year has ended, I need about a month to decompress. Sofia and her cutie cute smile has me thinking that things need to change.

Not only am I learning to put my family first by saying no to work (even the good parts of work), I am putting my family first by being active in caring for Sofia. When she’s crying in the middle of the night (and I hear it), I do my best to help sooth her. For the past month or so, this has meant letting the little one sleep in our bed. We are hoping to transition her to her crib here soon because April and I want our king sized bed back. I also do my best to change as many diapers as I can. Sofia typically cries when being changed, but I love making her laugh. A belly fart typically does it. The other night I had her laughing up a storm just by saying the word dog.

Sofia has me saying yes too little or no sleep just so I can care for her. I’m sure April (who gets way less sleep than me because Sofia prefers breast milk over bottle) would say I say no to late nights, but how can I say no if I am sound asleep and I just don’t hear anything. Both April and I see any of the late night feedings or diaper changes as chances to love on Sofia, and in that way Sofia has me saying yes all the time.

Last night we had to say no to Sofia. We started sleep training and so she found herself in her crib which is located in her own room. I’ve grown used to having our little lady in the room with us, but if April and I want to sleep well, we have to help Sofia sleep in her own room. So there were tears, not just mine, but Sofia’s. We checked on her after five minutes, then 15, then 30. She fell asleep, but then woke herself up and puked. We cleaned her up and April fed her some more only to try again. She passed out. I felt horrible for putting Sofia through that ordeal, but it will be good for her. I will readjust to her not being in our room. It is okay that I didn’t sleep well, what matters is that Sofia did.

And so even on little to no sleep I’m still saying yes to singing for Sofia. I’m not sure when Sofia was born that I knew I would start singing around the house again. I used to sing quite a bit (especially if no one was listening) but now it is my go to for Sofia’s entertainment. I guess in a way, I am saying yes to some things that make be feel a bit awkward and scared.

I’ve been trying to speak Spanish to Sofia which has been fun and awkward. I’m not the best at Spanish even though I lived in Guatemala for three years and was tutored privately because speaking incorrectly makes me scared. But I want to help my daughter be able to speak to her abuelos so I am saying yes to speak more Spanish.

I’ve also said yes to April’s parents moving in with us. April’s mom has been watching Sofia while April and I go to work. At times it is difficult because my house feels crowded, but I want to be a dad who helps his family and April’s family is my family. Both abuelos love Sofia so much and I want Sofia to know that her entire family loves her.

Maybe in the future I’ll be saying yes to playing dolls and painting nails with her. Whatever God has for my family and me, I want to say yes to Him and His adventures. I want Sofia to know what faith looks like. I want Sofia to see me saying yes to my own dreams so she knows what a real adventure looks like.

How My Year of Becoming Was A Mess

January 1, 2022Brendan Scott

2021 is wrapping up and I’d say its been a messy one. Diapers are messy! Being a dad is messy! And I love it!

This year has been my year of becoming. For me the idea of becoming is one of letting go of perfection and being okay with the process of life. As I wrote at the end of 2020, I am under construction. I think if I am becoming, I need to be okay with the mess.

Maybe Sofia is in on this life lesson. April and I had all the plans the world to have her four month picture taken in some of her cutest Christmas clothes, but each time we put her in them, she would have a massive blowout. Sofia is a four month old who is learning how to live so I would I not be okay with her having a blowout or two or 50? Also, her smile as we changed her diaper just makes me love her more.

On January first, 2021 I became a dog parent again. On January first April and I brought Phoenix into our house. After bringing Gryffin into our lives in 2020, we decided a puppy brother would be the best thing for him and us. Well, Phoenix is a crazy kid who lives life at two speeds tornado and cuddle. Phoenix is still a puppy and his excitement for life is contagious. But with two dogs, we can’t seem to clean up the messes they leave behind. I can either choose to love my dogs or have a perfectly clean house.

I became an expectant dad. Two days after taking Phoenix in, on January third we found out that April was pregnant and for the next nine months the mess was yet to come. As Sofia grew in April’s womb I tried to keep the house clean, but it was a battle I couldn’t win. I could either clean all the time or spend time with April. This became a big issue that I took to my therapist. He challenged me to be okay with not cleaning. I felt like if I could clean the house for April, I was showing my worth to her. She told me she needed me to be there with her. The house has been much messier since then.

Through the 2020-21 school year I became an online teacher and it was a mess. Not because I taught from my home through zoom, much of the time in my pjs. Not because I had to figure out new ways to connect with my students, which I think I was successful at doing. I loved being home with my dogs and my students loved seeing them. But teaching through a platform I was never trained to use and being evaluated by my administration (who had never taught on zoom either) as if I were teaching in the classroom was stressful. But as soon as I started giving myself grace and embraced the mess of teaching in a way I’d never taught before, I found joy in my job.

I started therapy and I became okay with my feelings, even the anxious ones. Therapy gave me a way to talk through all my feelings. The best part of going to a therapist is being told it is okay to feel what I am feeling. The worst part is when I go to the therapist it seems like I have to deal with the things in my life which means things have gotten a little messy.

God challenged me to go wild I became a backpacker again. In preparing for the trip I became a runner again (I had taken more than a year off of running). I took Gryffin on a backpacking trip that took me out of my comfort zone and into a swarm of mosquitoes. The trip was messy. That’s what happens when you have a group of guys with different goals and then you add in bad weather. But this mess was so good to be in because it was a situation that I couldn’t control. The mess of the trip made me trust God because I can’t control the weather or the mosquitos.

My water bill went up as I became a gardener. Spending more on water was worth it though. In 2020 April and I started a garden and so we decided 2021 we would try it again. Maybe it was because of all the rain we received this spring or maybe it’s because I have a green thumb, but our garden exploded. We had more tomatoes, cucumbers, jalapeños, and other garden varieties than we knew was to do with. Gardening is a mess especially when harvesting time happens right when your baby is due.

We still aren’t perfect pizza makers, but we’re having fun!

My pizza making improved as I became a canner. With all our produce from the garden, especially the tomatoes, April and I decided we wanted to can them so we could make pizza sauce year round. We were also able to make a delicious peach jalapeño jam because we found out we had a peach tree in our back yard. Canning was a fun learning experience alongside plenty of mold and broken glass. We also ruined several pizzas, to the point of tears as we figured out our Ooni Pizza Oven.

I was reminded how much I love working with kids as I became an in person teacher again. In August I went back into the building to teach for three weeks before April gave birth. This was a true mess as my long term sub was taken from me weeks before I was set to go on leave. But as soon as Sofia was born I had to let go of my classroom and know that even if it got a little messy for my students, it would be okay. After my two month paternity leave, my class was a mess, several students had stopped coming to class or had let their grades slip, but time with my family was worth that mess.

Finally, I became a dad! Sofia was born on August 26th. The coolest moment of my year was seeing her enter our world. Since then, being a dad has been filled with laughter and sleepless nights. I am not sure why I feel like things need to be perfect. My desire for perfection has brought on anxiety, but when I am okay with the mess around me I see how God is in control and I am able to relax in his hands.

Becoming Okay With Failure: My Mental Health

November 23, 2021Brendan Scott

Readers, thank you for your patience as I have not been writing much lately. It seems like yesterday that I wrote to you all announcing the birth of my baby girl. Since then, I’ve been living in a blur of joys and poopie diapers. I was fortunate enough to have two months of paternity leave. That time has come and gone and now I have been back to work for nearly a month.

As I write this, I am enjoying my Thanksgiving break, or as I am calling it right now daddy daughter date day two (April went back to work yesterday for the first time in three months!). Sofia is sitting in her swing across the room, fortunately she is sound asleep (at least for now, but she’ll be awake and hungry any moment now), so I have a little time to share with you some of the things I have been thinking about through this current season.

Sofia when she found out I was watching her for the day!

I’ve been thinking about therapy. In October it seemed like everyone was emphasizing the importance of mental heath. Well, earlier this year I took the plunge. I finally decided to start going to a therapist. I think I may have mentioned struggling with sleep anxiety and I may have even mentioned going to a therapist before. But here’s the deal, it still feels like I shouldn’t be talking about all of this, especially at the end of my two month paternity leave.

Like why should I be bringing up how I am struggling when I have only worked six weeks since August and over the last 18 months I’ve mostly been able to work from home. Shouldn’t I be all refreshed? Through this time God has blessed me with more time with April, two cute doggies, and now the cutest little girl ever. Yet, I am sure you all can find common ground with me as fear has crept in. What if I fail at all this? What if I can only handle being home and going into work is too much for me?

That is where the wisdom of my therapist comes in. Failure must be an option. I will be okay if any of my classes go badly, if I have a bad review, if someone at work says something offensive to me, or even if I am fired from my job. Yet, these are the fears that often wake me up at night. I will even be okay if I do not sleep well or at all.

So the other night as I was trying to fall back to sleep I decided to expect God to show up and take care of my day. It is clear I can’t make things work on my own. And the more I think about it, I am not supposed to. Somehow men have taken on the idea that to be a man we must be able to handle everything and never ask for help. That’s a direct slap in God’s face. He created us to need him. I have come to find that my days go better when I give up my desire to do it all on my own and ask God to show up.

Sometimes God showing up is something small like last week when one of my students brought me homemade Moroccan bread or when different coworkers and students have asked me about Sofia. Those small acts of kindness remind me that God is in my day. He cares about my joy. And if I know God shows up in the small things, then I know he will take care of me when the hard days come. So when I start to fear failing at my job or at being a dad, God reminds me that He will meet me there. Maybe that is what He meant when He said do not be afraid because he will be there in the midst of it all.

For me, that thought takes all the pressure off of me and it allows me the freedom to love on my baby girl which I need to go do as she is waking up from her nap. Pray that daddy date day two and three go smoothly or that if I fail at something with my little girl God shows up like he promised.

Teaching In My Pajamas With My Puppies

June 21, 2021Brendan Scott

“I can’t handle my school work,” read a message one of my students sent three weeks before the end of the school year. “My dad just went into the ICU and I don’t think I can do this,” she continued. My heart broke as I read this message. And as I think back over the school year, I know why it has taken me so long to finish writing about it. This year was exhausting, both emotionally and physically. When I first started to write this, I was mad. Anger is okay, but I want my blog to bring joy. Even when the subject is as difficult as what the school year and Covid put my students through.

For the majority of the year this student showed up to each of my zoom meetings, commented on the pictures that decorate my background, and worked hard all year long. Yet, as we come to the end of the semester Covid reared its ugly head inside this students’ family. “They’re all sick but I am asymptomatic” the student told me. I cannot imagine that pressure. Yet, sadly this has not been the only conversation I’ve had with students who’s families dealt with the struggles of Covid.

While I stayed sheltered safely at home many of my students live were at risk. They live in multigenerational households where staying home and learning remotely means caring for their siblings or their siblings children as one of my students has had to do all year long. Yet, I stayed comfortable at home, teaching in my pajamas. For most of the year I woke up about an hour before my zoom meetings started, played with my dogs, ate breakfast, and then made sure everything was ready for my classes. As I documented earlier in this school year, I chose to stay sheltered at home and teach remotely because of past health issues and April’s pregnancy. Now that we are both vaccinated we are experiencing more freedom. It’s like it’s 2019 or almost something like that since we are still choosing to stay home as much as possible.

But there is a disparity between my life and the lives of my students. My life has been comfortable, even if this school year was stressful, while my students have been put through the wringer. For the 2020-2021 school year my district expected all of my students to learn at the same level as they would have in a non-pandemic school year, despite the fact that my students’ families faced Covid at a higher rate than the rest of the district. As a teacher, I am all for my students becoming life long learners and using this year to grow. Unfortunately the district only measures growth by looking at test scores. Tests do not care how a student is doing emotionally, nor if a family has been dealing with Covid. So now not only do my students have to fight against Covid, but they have to make sure they are acing their tests. Where is the grace in this?

I want my students to know that they matter so that I can help them on the road toward healing. This past year, more than any, I felt like it has been important for them to know that. The feeling of not mattering and even more feeling invisible is something I struggle with at times. This struggle is something I’m working on with my therapist. He reminded me that the feelings of not mattering and invisibility are ones that will pop up my entire life. He likened it to a country road with a ditch on the side. While we travel down the road we are healing. We might fall into the ditch and feel like we should be ashamed that we are not on the road anymore, but in fact we are further away from the start of our journey and that first wound that made us feel that way than we were a year ago or six years ago. We just need to get back up and start walking. My therapist has been a helpful hand in picking me up when I’ve fallen into the ditch. It’s because of him I decided to teach in my pajamas. Simple comforts can help us remember that we are loved. Many of my students have fallen into the ditch this year and I want them to know they are loved.

This year as I taught from home I felt like I didn’t matter and that I was invisible to my school community. These feelings are what led me to finalizing seeing a therapist, which has been incredibly healing. He let me know that it is okay to feel anxious, sad, irrelevant, and invisible at times. Those feelings are feelings Jesus felt when he died for us which is why when I feel that way I can know he has compassion for me. Also, because he felt that way I know it is normal to feel that way too and so then I don’t feel so bad. I know my students have been feeling the same as me and I have compassion for them, and so during each class I made sure to tell them how much I love them, how much they matter, and made sure to spend time talking to them so that they feel seen. We played games, I made polls for my baby girl’s name (this brought some great laughter), let them play with my co-teacher puppies (well, only virtually) who sat next to me during nearly every lesson (or actually they wrestled and yipped, spilled water bowls, and generally added the chaos back to my classroom), and most of all I just listened to them. My favorite time doing this came two weeks before the end of the year as we were preparing for the state mandated MAP test. Through zoom I was able to meet with each of my students and tell each of them how much they mattered to me.

I don’t know how my students did on their tests yet, but I am guessing that they did well. I do know that each of them ended the year feeling known and loved (and hopefully a little proud at the great work they did).

Three weeks ago on the last day of school Jesus did something fun for me. He reminded me that I matter and that I am not invisible. My students awarded me one of the ten staff members of the year. I still feel honored and seen. Maybe I should teach in my pajamas every year. Maybe my puppies should show up to my classroom in real life next year. Maybe my students do know they are loved (puppies can do that). Maybe that love will help my student who is still waiting for her dad to recover from Covid.

2020: Under Construction

December 31, 2020Brendan Scott

Driving down I-25 here in Denver is exhausting. Lanes are constantly closed for construction; will it ever end? Yet, I am like I-25 as I too am under constant construction. 2020 has been no different. I could choose to let the challenges of this year frustrate me in the same why I grow frustrated by the constant highway construction. But I am a man becoming more than I am, so I proudly announce that I am under construction.

The question driving my bid for renewal is twofold. Who do I want to be in ten years and who was I ten years ago? I find that if I look at my life as incomplete and under construction (like I-25), I can give myself the grace to take risks, go on adventures, and be a better husband and friend. While we all want road construction to end, it is freeing to know that I am in the state of becoming.

So who was I ten years ago? I was a man who longed for a passion to ignite a true adventure.

2010: I was a loyal friend struggling with what I wanted to do for work. My adventurous job in Guatemala, a resource teacher at The Inter-American School in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala, was fun, but I felt a longing for more. I loved my job that year, but I knew I couldn’t just play tag with Kindergartners for the rest of my life, so I decided that after the end of the school year I would move back to Colorado.

2011: I was lost and lonely as I struggled to find love, work, and friends. Upon moving back into my parents’ house I was depressed because my desire for more seemed like I and settled for much less. But I began to dream about moving back to Guatemala. This move wasn’t to be, however the strong bonds I had built with my former students led me to realize I missed teaching and so I applied for a graduate teaching program at Regis University.

2012: Grad school started as I was working for The Neighborhood Church as the Kids’ Minister. I took my church to Guatemala to lead a mission trip, came back and started with a job at Chipotle, it didn’t last long, but I did learn how to make really good guac! I nearly dropped out of grad school after my first day off class because I didn’t want to write a paper, but fortunately I had made some friends who could tell me to suck it up and press on. I am not a quitter so I wrote that paper.

2013: I completed grad school and did my student teaching at Columbine. I also stopped blogging because I didn’t think my life was worth sharing. Looking back at this year I see a man who was insecure so he stopped writing.

2014: This year was a hunt for a job. By summer time I had been rejected so many times I felt like giving up so I went back to Guatemala to celebrate the graduation of some of the coolest kids I taught. While I was there I was offered a job at a middle school here in Denver. Between finding a teaching job and going to Guatemala my brother-in-law invited me to a Wild At Heart bootcamp in Georgia. To prepare for the bootcamp, I reread Wild At Heart for the first time in over a decade and was hit by the idea that God wants me to be fully alive in him. Not just that, but that the world needs men who are truly alive. Before this, I truly felt stagnate in who I was. Even though I had obtained my maters and was on my way to finding a job in an important field, I felt directionless in my quest to find a passion to ignite my life. Coming to life took work though. I had to let go of the shame that had intrenched itself in my life. I had been stuck on things I had done that I was not proud of, which were making me think I didn’t deserve love, especially that of a woman. 2014 taught me that I didn’t need to be perfect to find love and that it was okay to be under construction because that meant I was letting God move in me so I could lead a life that was fully alive.

2015: I nearly died. Life is strange in the way that I know I can only grow if I face challenges. 2015 was a challenge I didn’t want to face. In July I decided to go visit Harry Potter World (AKA Universal Studios in Orlando, Florida). The trip was awesome, but I came back with pneumonia. I have talked about this experience a bit, but here was my take away. As I was drugged up after my second surgery that September, I decided I needed to be more deliberate with how I lived my life. This meant I needed to take risks with love again.

2016: In February the Broncos won the Super Bowl, and more importantly, I met April. We did not meet at a Super Bowl party because she hates football, but at the movies because, like me, she loves great stories. Without going to the Wild At Heart boot camp and hearing that my heart matters and then nearly dying of pneumonia, I would never have been able to open up my heart to her (it still took nearly all year for me to realize I was worthy of a relationship anyway, but that is another story). Thankfully, God led April to not give up on me and by December I was a man in love and I knew she was the one I wanted to adventure with for the rest of my life.

2017: I took the biggest risk of my life. While work was not going well and everything seemed unsure, I bought a ring, took April to Harry Potter World (AKA Universal Studios California) and proposed to her in the driving rain on my birthday. In July we said our vows. This year changed me for the better, but it was a challenge. I wanted to be the best man I could be for April.

2018: I took my wife’s world on my shoulders. Perfection was my goal. Apparently I had forgotten that it was okay to be under construction. I thought I needed to earn enough money to defeat the debt that April and I occurred, save for a house, and provide for our daily needs. I stopped sleeping well. Sleepy and anxious, God reminded me that he provides more than enough. He provided the money for our wedding and had calmed things down at my job, so he would come through for me in our daily needs. I was a man in need of God.

2019: April and I bought a house! This would not have happened if I had been trying to do life all on my own. Through our marriage, my anxiety over work and sleep, God pulled me closer to him. On one of my walks before April and I moved into our new home God reminded me that I needed to give myself grace. I was listening to a podcast and the host was talking about being frustrated with his son. He didn’t know what to do about his son’s behavior and was contemplating a harsh punishment when he walked by a building with a large sign on it. It read: Under Construction. God then reminded him that his son was under construction. He was not yet the man he was meant to be and then God told the podcast host, that he too, was under construction.

2020: I’ve been under construction all year. At times it has looked like April and I just sitting on our couch watching a movie or doing a puzzle. But there are no justs in life. This year has been one for the ages or something like that. But with all the chaos and maybe because of the chaos and the pain I have experienced, I have been able to let God use this year to work on me. I’ve been challenged to give up things I love, like being in my classroom with my students or coaching my teams, all for the safety of my health. This year has been a year of mourning the loss of normality, but then again I started off this year desiring a beautiful adventure. God has given me one, but I have had to look for it in the small daily activities. Through my walks with Gryffin and April (but mostly Gryffin) God has opened my eyes again to the beauty of nature. These walks and all this time at home has given me the opportunity to think about what kind of man I want to be.

In 2021 I want to be a man who lives in the moment with those around me, especially April and Gryffin. I want to build deeper friendships. Friendships where we pray and fight for one another. I want to be okay that I am not a finished product. I want to make mistakes and learn from them. I want to take the time to laugh and play. I want to be the man who is okay with the man I used to be. It is okay that I have been insecure, perfectionistic, and full of shame because without those traits I wouldn’t need God’s grace. His grace is what saves me and so I want to be a man who lives in God’s grace.

Stress and Sleeplessness

October 6, 2019October 6, 2019Brendan Scott

Teachers live for summer, right? Freedom for adventure right at your feet, or just to use the bathroom whenever. Oh and all the extra sleep, but sleep started to stress me out during the summer of 2018.

Yes, that was over a year ago, but for the longest time I felt like if I talked about how much I was struggling to sleep, my sleep patterns would worsen. But I don’t believe that anymore and here is how God helped me change my mindset.

In 2018 my adventures seemed limited to waking up in the middle of the night, taking care of my landlords house, and worrying about being able to provide for my wife. I was attempting to control my little world but God wanted me to surrender.

When I would wake up worrying about our finances. He would tell me he was in control anyway. I would wake up worried about healthy eating and my physical health. God would remind me that he has always taken care of me and that no matter what he wants the best for me. I started worrying about taking care of the house we were living in. I didn’t want to be thinking about these things so early in the morning. Time and time again God would remind me that the best life is a life surrendered to him.

Yet, I stressed on. I wanted to be able to provide for April, buy us a house, and make us successful. Surrender is difficult, so I didn’t sleep.

Without sleep, my rhythm has been off. I cannot blame it on where I live, bad air conditioning, poor heating, or the fact that my wife is a furnace. Figuratively and literally! When we are next to one another in bed my body temp starts to rise, which doesn’t let me sleep. Like I said, last summer I started stressing about many different things, but most of all I stressed about how hot I was when I was hoping to be asleep or I would stress about sleep.

A little history on my sleep patterns. When I was in the seventh and eighth grade I started struggling to fall asleep because I was too busy thinking up the statistics for Terrill Davis and the other Denver Broncos. During 1998, when TD would run for 2008 yards on the season, I started calculating what he needed to do to reach that feat each night as I lay in bed. Soon sleep outweighed my desire to not worry about stats. My solution was a fan to drown out my thoughts. Over the years the fan has morphed into prayer time at night, a thankfulness journal, and a rain noise app on my phone.

On nights when none of these solutions worked, I used I would envision a peaceful field or hike and I would take myself into that situation and fall into a dream so over the last year when I just couldn’t fall back to sleep I was unsure what to do when my mind would not shut off.

I felt like I was lost in a sleep deprived haze. My brain buzzed. I was waking up with my heart pounding and in a puddle of sweat. I was stressed, but I didn’t want to talk about it and this made me feel alone. Why was this happening? Over the last year I feel like I would turn a corner and recapture that mythic ability to sleep through the night and then I would go and talk about it. Someone would ask me, “how are you sleeping” and I would crash. I was convinced that if I talked about my sleep, I would start stressing about it, and therefore, I wouldn’t sleep well. So I kept silent. I refused to surrender and my adventure seemed to stall out. But that would change in September. More on that next week.

Peyton versus Eli!

September 8, 2013May 1, 2017Brendan Scott

Football season has tarted, school is back in high gear, and I am blogging again!

First, I would like to apologize for abandoning my readers. I’ve been quite busy for the last couple of months. I finished all of my masters classes and I’ve now started student teaching at Columbine High School here in Denver. It is great to be back in the classroom. I really feel like I am learning lots.

During my time teaching in Guatemala I tried to keep a blog every other week. Now that I am teaching again, I am going to try to keep that same commitment. I loved sharing all of my new experiences with my readers while I was in Guatemala and so I hope you all will enjoy reading about my time in the classroom here in Denver.

On my first day of teaching in Guatemala, one of my students, who was part Guatemalan (her dad is from Guatemala and her mom is from Indiana) told me that I looked like Peyton Manning. At the time I didn’t know that she’d grown up in Indiana, so this comment really caught me off guard.

People have been telling me I look like Peyton Manning since I was in the 7th grade, around the time Peyton was a senior at Tennessee. Once Eli became a star in the NFL, people started to claim I looked like him instead.

People started to argue. Families were split, I know how the manning family feels when the two play each other (Which is happening on September 15th, Go Broncos!!), all over this single question: no, not which Manning is the better QB, but who do I look more like, Peyton or Eli?.

And so I thought that my students here in Denver would jump right into this argument. Who do I look like more, Eli or Peyton?

I didn’t bring it up, not wanting to distract my class, but I was sure that one of the football crazy students would say something. I mean Peyton is the quarter back of our home town team. But it took two weeks for any kids to bring anything up.

Midway through last week a girl in my freshmen class raised her hand and said, “Mr. Scott, has anyone every told you that you look like Peyton Manning?” I think she was hoping she would’ve been the first to have this thought. Like any good teacher, I shattered her dreams. “Yes,” I replied seriously, “we’re related.”

Sadly, I am not related to the Manning, and no I didn’t actually tell her that I was related to him, but I wish I could’ve. I wish I actually was, because then I might not be only five feet eight inches tall. Oh well! I’ll just live to accept being a stunt double for either Peyton or Eli. I’m just sad that they didn’t ask me to be in their F.O.Y.P. commercial.

So who do you all think I look like? Peyton or Eli?

Almost a Pre-K Teacher

January 30, 2010December 11, 2011Brendan Scott

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to teach preschool age kids? How about four-year-olds who’s first language is Spanish? Oh, these kids understand a little English now, but sometimes I feel like they just don’t want to pay attention.

Two weeks ago I was asked to fill in for the regular pre-k teacher and teach for a full morning. My first reaction was to throw a temper tantrum. With my semester’s experience of teaching these kids, I know how to throw a good one. But I decided to handle it like a man and see what I could learn.

Big surprise, all of the kids, not just the ones that who excel (a word used loosely here) in English, knew their classes’ daily routine. Routines are saviors for little kids. Early in my PE class I installed a routine. The pre-kers follow me out to the court. We walk on the wooden sandbox to work on balance, then hop around a set of stones that lead to the court, and finally we race to the center of the basketball court. At least that is the plan. If you can imagine the next part of the routine is even more chaotic. I try to lead them in stretches but they run around. Typically one of the little guys asks me if he can take off his jacket. This causes a chain reaction that ends in all the kids running-amuck, jacketless. On good days we follow our stretches with a bunch of different fun movements, like crawling like a bear, walking like a crab, and skipping. Then we try to play a game. My routine doesn’t always work that well, but I had hope their class routine would lead to an easy morning for me.

But, back to my adventure subbing their class. According to the child in charge of moving the Weather Clip it was a sunny day. As soon as he picked up the card with a radiantly smiling sun on it, the entire class shouted “SUNNY!” I think they were supposed to wait for me to ask what type of weather we were having. We didn’t make it that far, but we almost did. The rest of the day was filled with more almosts. We made it to chapel but I almost lost a kid. He decided to go to the bathroom for ten minutes. We made it to art and I almost didn’t pick them back up. Just kidding. They ate all their food during snack time and almost listened to me while I read them a story. Recess was fun, they almost emptied the sandbox. And finally during free time the boys almost destroyed the classroom. All of these almosts caused us to be late for their parents to pick them up. Yet, without their routines I think I would’ve almost died.

Teaching similingual kids can be fun because they kind of say really cute things. They have huge imaginations and they smile a lot. But I was exhausted by the end of the day. My friends kept asking if I was sick. It’s hard when you teach a class of kids who are all off in their own worlds most of the time. But, hey, they’re just little kids and I don’t think they should have to grow up too fast. I just hope I don’t have to sub for them again. That was a lot of work.