What Would I Do Without....

Just for fun, I thought I would make this list. If you like the idea and want to do it, copy me!

What would I do without these six things:

1. My husband. He drove me to JMU after work, spent an hour with my while I taught mostly college students, AND he taught me who Deux-Deux, from the Pink Panther, is. I need him to lighten up my life and keep me humble.

2. My family. They are my base to always go back to whenever I need a moment to talk to someone who understands me and does not question everything I do.

3. My job. I love it, and it pays well, especially in comparison to what other teachers don't make.

4. The beach. It is my place to go when I need to relax and feel at ease with all things in the world.

5. My friends. Of course. I like to think that they are all very different, but really, they are not. All of them have a good sense of humor and march to a different beat, and I like that.

6. My kitty. I love picking him up first thing in the morning before I feed him and feeling his soft fur rattle as he purrs in my arms.

More to come.

Fingers Crossed

A few blogs back I wrote about my boss, who did not give me the best marks on one aspect of my evaluation. (see below) It has actually bothered me for the past several weeks (and so does my 3.94 GPA!), so tonight I sought the advice of a colleague and asked her if she thought I should forward along the praising e-mails I have gotten from parents. When I was an editor, any time a client sent a complimentary e-mail to me, I would forward it on to my boss, just so they would know. Typically this goes against my humble tendencies, but I did it anyway. For some reason, I hadn't thought to do the same in my new career.

Anyway, after my friend said that I should do it, I sent along 4 of the e-mails I could find to my boss. (I had deleted several e-mails over winter break, which I shouldn't have.) There are so many more parent e-mails in my inbox, but I thought 4 of them were particularly good for her to see. 

Hopefully, if all goes well, she will be happy about this and not taken aback. I was mad about her not being fair, but I also realize that what she hears isn't going to be the positive stuff because that is said to me, not her, and unless the parent is aware of this, it's not likely to get over to her. So, hopefully standing up for myself won't be bad. We shall see how it goes.

Fingers crossed.

***Next day update***

Got a response from my boss on all three e-mails, and she was quite pleased with them. So yay. I have to remember that there were some things I did well before I became a teacher.  

Gulp

This Saturday I will be facilitating a teachers' workshop at JMU for an Elementary Teachers Conference. It's my first professional foray into this type of an event, and I am scared and nervous. 

I've been preparing for the whole year, taking pictures and documenting what I've been doing with the kids, but I am still nervous. For that reason, I don't want to do it. BUT, I also believe doing what scares you, barring anything bad, is worth doing. So, wish me luck! 

I have a feeling that I am doing way more than I need to for this hour-long session, but I really hope the people attending get some good ideas and resources they can take back to the classroom and use. If nothing else, it's good to have on the resume. :)

Oh, and my wonderful husband is driving the whole four hours to get there, and he will be there with me when I do my thing. I think it will be neat for him to see me in action, and I am looking forward to having him there for support.

Good Idea or Waste of Money?

In theory, at least according to the owners of this company, a ring you put around the mouth of a water bottle to help identify your water bottle versus another, is supposed to save the use of water bottles. I personally think it's a useless piece of, well, crap, designed for someone with more money than they know what to do with. Why else would you buy this? If you're worried about someone taking your bottle, why not put a rubber band around it? I don't think this will curtail anyone lifting a bottle. On the contrary, I could see someone purposely taking it just to get the cute little adornment.

But maybe you should be the judge.

See it here

I wonder if the makers of this product are aware that once a generic water bottle is exposed to heat, say in a car, it begins to release a toxic chemical into the water. So in reality, it may be healthier to recycle that bottle, or just not buy one at all.

The Club

There is something that has been on my mind for a while, and before I go into it, I am going to apologize before I write about it. Many people I know are in this club, and I am not, and I can say that the feeling is palpable. This is not an indictment against anyone, but just airing what I have been thinking and feeling of late.

As a teacher, I am constantly surrounded by mothers and children. I teach their kids, give them hugs and wipe their tears, dispense band-aids, catch fallen teeth, press my cheek to their foreheads to detect a fever, clean up after they vomit in my room (yes, they do it in school too, so you moms are not alone on that front) and and at their age there is a good chance that I know more about the parents' kids than they do.

I know who likes who, and who is "dating," which typically amounts to drawing I Love ______ on your binder and wrist, and the occasional phone call happens; but that is typically all dating really is for a typical fifth grader. There is much that I see and hear as a teacher, and most of this knowledge is never shared with the parents because I respect the kids' privacy as much as I would want them to respect me. The only time any secrets are shared is when the child's safety or health could be in danger. Barring danger, their secrets are safe with me. And yet, when I talk to the moms about their kids, there is an underlying border that divides us: motherhood.

It's never spoken, only intimated. The signs come when I hear, "when you have kids..." which is usually followed by a line that implies that I know nothing about children, even though I do; which is interesting because even though I am not a mother, and I am constantly reminded of this fact, my advice is sought, and if they disagree, it's chalked up to the fact that I am not yet a mother. Because of this fact, I never give any child-rearing advice on what I think they should do. Why? Because I am not a member of their club.

The club I speak of is the Mother's Club. No, not a mother's club that a stay at home mom would belong to, but the club that all mothers place themselves in because they are moms. I often feel, at my age, which is only 31, that most moms have less respect for women their age who are not moms yet. Sure, they all understand that we are perhaps trying to be pregnant, or aren't ready, but there is nothing more lonely feeling when you are surrounded by a group of moms who talk about kids, and when you have something to say, it's dismissed because they are not YOUR kids, and how could you possibly know anything about what they are talking about? Yes, I am the odd woman out these days.

Just today, I wanted to chime in on some cleaning tips to a friend, but I relented because I work, and I don't have kids, so my tips are probably implausible and impractical for a mom with kids. So I stay silent. Again, membership pending.

I think, on the other end, that sometimes some of my friends who are moms are also a little envious of the fact that I can take naps and read in solitude, and go on vacations without kids to think about. I know they wouldn't trade their lives, but I do have more freedom, and I know there is a bit of envy in this. But what they don't know is that I would like to be a part of the club, and yet, I don't like feeling excluded simply because I have not yet reproduced. I am working on it, though. I also am not that worried about when it does happen, because it's not like I can return the child once it's born. Once I have a child, there is no going back. So really, all in due time.

In the meantime, however, I would like to be able to say to a mom-friend that I took a nap, and not have them laugh in my face and say, "just wait until you have kids." Really, the way she makes it sound, why would I want to? No one told them that they HAD to have kids, so bitterness about the situation, in my opinion, is so uncalled for, especially when I would like to be a part of your little club. And yes, mothers of my students, I do have a clue, and I do know when you're pushing too hard, but they say nothing because they will be punished. I know more than you realize. I just bite my tongue.

Advice from a Three Year Old

Before I start to tell this story, be warned; it's a little crass.

Nonetheless, it left me in stitches yesterday. Also, for those who don't know this, kids who have recently mastered the art of potty training are uber fascinated with all things related to using the bathroom. I remember my niece proudly proclaiming to a diner at a restaurant that she had just pooped! Of course, the poor patron didn't know what to say, but proud she was. I smiled apologetically as I led her back to our table. Yes, three year olds really are proud of what they can do.

Onward.

Yesterday B and I went out of town for a little while to the Outer Banks. We hiked all over Jockey's Ridge, a natural area of the island that has major sand dunes. Picture hiking in the desert, only it's surrounded by water. Afterward, we went and got some ice cream at a nearby gift shop. Then we went for a walk on the beach, and finally we headed to Pizzazz pizza on our way home.

At the end of our dinner of greasy cheese pizza and iced tea, I decided to use the Ladies room before our hour and a half drive back home.

In the restroom, a grandma and her granddaughter were in the stall next to me. And well, grandma surprised herself by passing a little bit of gas, and the following conversation developed.

Grandma: (having just tooted a little) Oh my!
Three year old: Are you okay? Are you okay?
Grandma: Yes, honey, I'm okay.
Three year old: You have to be ceeeaaaaareful grandma! You have to be careful! Grandma! Grandma?
Grandma: Yes, honey?
Three year old: You okay grandma?
At this point I imagine grandma was doing what she needed to do, but the granddaughter kept pressing her.
Three year old: You have to be careful....did you poop grandma?
Silence from grandma.
Three year old: Did you get it on your hands?
Silence from grandma.
Three year old: you gotta be careful grandma.
Silence, once again.
Three year old: Did you poop?
Silence.
Three year old: you know you have to be careful....did you poop?
Finally, grandma replies: Uh, yes, honey, just a little.
Three year old: Just a little bit?
Grandma: Yes, honey, just a little bit.
Three year old: well, you gotta be caaaareful, grandma.

At this point, I was washing my hands, and I started to giggle so much that I had to leave and take a deep breath so I wouldn't bust out laughing in the restaurant. Once we got in the car, as I retold the story to B, I was laughing so hard I cried.

So, take it from a three year old: when you use the bathroom, you must be very careful.

If you find this story to be just a little too gross, please forgive me, and forget you ever read it.

Woo! Girls

Last Friday night a good friend of mine had dinner with me at a local Mexican restaurant. At our nice little dinner, we got into discussing different types of women. I told her about several girls I work with who are very nice, but I also don't do anything with them. They are the same age as me, and they like to go out to the bars on the weekend. In essence, they are Woo! Girls. They are the ones who act as if there's a party going on at all times in the day and act as if the night you took their picture was the best night of their lives. They are the ones who scream "Woo!" when there is really nothing woo-worthy on that night.

I am not a Woo! girl. I am the second type of girl that we discussed on that night. I am the type of girl who enjoys being with her friends, but is just as likely to enjoy time spent alone or with my husband on any given night. Oh yeah, none of these Woo! girls are married, and if they are, their husbands are off fighting in Iraq or Afghanistan. In the latter case, I suppose they need something to cheer them up, because I know I could not live their lives. Still, it sometimes feels a little lonely when everyone else is like them, and few are like you.

I don't think I would trade my life with anyone, though. Sure, things have happened to me, but far worse has happened to many people in this world. On the whole, I feel as though I am truly blessed. When I go shopping, I think about the fact that I am lucky to be able to do that, just as when I plan a vacation, I am humbled by being able to do these things, because I know that many people don't have these chances.

The friend I had dinner with is a long-lost friend whom I found through Facebook. I know I've written about her here before, but what amazes me is that she and are so much alike, and I really like her. I used to do everything with her, back in high school, but when college came, we drifted apart. In college it was hard to make true friendships. Many of the friends I had were simply social acquaintances, and although I met many people, I never really got to know any of them, because I was too busy being a Woo! girl to really stop and slow down, and get to know them. I also know that back then I was an unhappy and insecure girl who only started to feel happy around my senior year in college. I think that's when I went from being a Woo! girls to the girl I am today. I don't think I ever really was the party girl I liked to be pack then. I think, deep down, I wasn't happy because I wasn't being myself.

Now that I have spent more time with my friend, I noticed that she never really changed from who she was. She still wears the same kind of clothes, has the same sense of humor and is the same independent one from back then. I sometimes wonder if she bothered me from time to time because she was so secure with herself, and I was not. Now that I am happy with who I am, I am so happy we are back in touch, enjoying dinners together, and afterward, going back to our happy homes to read or be with our husbands. And that, is Woo! worthy.

Break break baby

I am officially on spring break. I went to see my dad for Easter and came back yesterday. So begins my real spring break.

Why, it's so refreshing...I open up my windows to feel the wet rain splish-splashing around. Invigorating! And in only two days all four of my wisdom teeth will be taken out of my poor, unsuspecting mouth! Sheer excitement!

Sadly, I am actually looking forward to having the excuse to do nothing but lay around and eat pudding for a few days. Really, if you look at it that way, who wouldn't want to get his/her wisdom teeth out? I can't imagine why every single adult isn't running to their oral surgeon, begging them for a chance like mine.

In the meantime, I am hoping to buy some new flowers for our balcony. I know, you're jealous. Why buy a house with a backyard when you can have the chance to sit perched above the newly bloomed cherry trees and quietly watch everyone pass by? I particularly enjoy watching the 80 year old lady with OCD go to her mailbox at least 20 times every single day to check her mail. I always wonder if anything new will appear in that mailbox at the 20th time she opens that box. Maybe I need to work on that shocker. That could really surprise her. Then again, she could have a heart attack, and I would truly feel badly about that. So maybe not.

Yes, the joys of spring break. Pudding, flowers and rest here I come.

Please excuse me while I vent

Teaching is very different and yet very much the same as most organizations. On the one hand, it is the exact opposite of corporate world, which is why I made the switch, and yet on the other I find it suffers some of the same maladies as a regular office, the primary malady being the manager that has no clue.

I'll start off by saying that I am extremely grateful to have landed in the school where I did, especially after accepting a teaching position at the last minute, sight unseen. The first day I drove into town to visit the school was also the first day I started work. I was referred to my boss through a colleague of hers. I was second in line for a position at another school, and so when my boss needed a teacher at the last minute, she called me. Since B was also interviewing in the area, I went ahead and took it. I knew taking such a risk was, well, risky, but I also needed a job. As I went down the very same road I traverse daily, I was greeted by views of the bay, hotels and condos, and yachts docked off to the side. My sprits lifted, and I had a feeling I was very lucky.Lucky I was, and still am. But sometimes.....

I was given my final evaluation for the year, and I was given high marks in all area but one. This area was about establishing rapport with my students. She marked me down because a student went home one day and said that I had told the whole class that Santa didn't exist. Obviously I never did this. I won't even explain what happened here, but I can certainly say that those words did not come from my mouth; but whatever the child said was construed to mean that I had said that. Unbelievably, even after explaining to my boss what did happen, she said that I needed to be careful with what I say. True enough, just as everyone needs to be careful with what they say.

So here we are, two months down the road, and many compliments later, she marks me down in this one area. I asked her where it was coming from, and she said it was from the one Santa mishap. I said that I was glad it wasn't anything else and that I am very close with my kids, and so she subsequently changed the evaluation.

Then, in the same evaluation, she said that I had turned a non-reader into a reader, and made a writer realize that she had a talent for writing. She went on to say that I was "more and more becoming the teacher of choice," for students. Interestingly enough, she started off the whole meeting to say that I was a good teacher with the potential to be great, then changes her mind and upgrades my one lower score, and then goes on to say that kids want me to be their teacher. In my mind, that's pretty damned good, and nothing to be ashamed of.

So yeah, she's a manager who hasn't a clue, and obviously is unaware of her contradictions. It is maddening. If she could see how many tears have been shed on my shoulder when a child needs an ear to listen and a voice of comfort....if she could see how many faces light up when I've finally made them make the connection that I have been trying so desperately to make, I know she would have regrets for making me feel inadequate. Do I think I'm perfect? Hell no. Do I think I make mistakes EVERY SINGLE DAY? YES. As someone who is with kids all day, just like a parent, making mistakes and feeling the guilt that ensues is all part of the game.

At least I don't work for Michael Scott. I'm pretty sure my poor husband does.