Still here

Heyyyy, folks. I figure that now that I'm pursuing a more writing-based career, I should really...write. There's just so much that has gone on, but I'll try to recap the big events since April:

• 6th wedding anniversary for DH and me
• J turned TWO at the end of June and I still can barely handle it
• On August 28, in the morning, J got tubes in his ears because it turns out that the grandparents' suggestion of actually getting an ENT to look at them proved vastly important because...he needed tubes
• On that same day, in the afternoon, my former employer let me go. Quite the day, although T pointed out that he'd rather J had a good day and I had a bad one, and I couldn't disagree
• Almost immediately after the surgery, J had a major language explosion. Roosters that formerly said "dat-dee-dooo!" now say "cock-a-doooo!" or even "cock-a-do-doooo!" Funny enough, we parents miss the first one, although we're ecstatic that he's come so far. He speaks more in full sentences and knows how to ask for things properly, although he'll still try, "Milk? Milk? Milk" on repeat.
• He also now has glasses and they look pretty cute, plus he realizes they help him see, and it's en entirely new world.
• I've started to look once again at my career path and where it will take me

That last part has remained pretty daunting for so many (obvious) reasons. As of January 1, we have to find money to pay for day care ($1000/mo) and health care -- I have supported Obama thus far, but from what we've gleaned for ourselves, "affordable care," my ass. It's all very real and very frightening. I'm fortunate to have a few nibbles as of late, and I'm hopeful that if I keep plugging and networking, something will come up. Never have I realized so fully that I'm simultaneously the master of my own destiny and at the mercy of other people: Nobody's going to give me a handout -- although we have had tremendous generosity thrown our way -- I need to reach out to anybody who can help and keep up my skills and learn new ones. Maybe I'll end up somewhere different than I had expected, but so many of us take only one path in life, that it's a bit exciting, even while it's frightening.

And I know I can do it.

As Others See Us

I put this together for my company blog, so I thought I'd post it here as well.

Every day we wake up, rub the sleep out of our eyes, and make a decision about...what to wear. Some of us plan ahead and lay out the clothes the night before in order to avoid that last-minute rush that can end up surprisingly agonizing (and time-wasting): Khakis or cords? Dress or pants? Why is it that the ONE SHIRT I want has disappeared from my closet?!? Don't even get me started on shoes.

Some simply throw on whatever's right at hand and...cleanish. But for others, that choice can inform the entire day. We base it on weather, mood, places to go that day (meeting? yoga? lazy Sunday?), who we'll see. Clothing is an extension of how we view ourselves and how we want others to view us. More than once I have looked at strangers walking by and wondered, "What process did he use to put that exact outfit together? What went through his mind?" This question arises for choices that range all the way from gorgeous to spectacularly bizarre.

I have just entered the world of advertising and marketing as an insider and not merely a consumer. Yet I realize that I've asked those same kinds of questions of certain ads I've seen, although it often goes along the lines of, "If they chose this ad, what on earth did they leave on the cutting room floor?" That, combined with the sheer volume and quality of work my colleagues put in to make sure their clients get exactly what they want, makes me realize anew just how much stock we put in perception. Whether it's choosing the color of one's socks or what font to make a tagline in an advertising campaign, each resembles a specific choice made by someone (or many someones) to promote a certain look. With clothing, sometimes we only focus on how we perceive ourselves; with marketing, a firm creates something for an entire, often very specific audience. 

As a proofreader and editor, I have the privilege of fine-tuning what my colleagues have successfully created, going over not just grammar and copy but also graphics and style so the vision--the desired perception--matches what the client wants. It's both exciting and daunting, as I often have the final say before it goes out into the world. So whether it's my own shoes or a new campaign for the Bills, I get to have a tiny bit of control over how others see that. And that's pretty amazing to me.

New Perspective

I now work in downtown Buffalo. If you have never toured that particular area, you truly should. Every day I get to walk down Main Street right into the heart of downtown with its award-winning architecture  all around me. Granted, it's an urban area, so it also has its share of ugliness and unsavory characters. I don't have any illusions about staying aware of my surrounding when I leave every evening. But right outside my window and just down the street, I get to marvel at some gorgeous buildings every day. Immediately outside my window I see the the Electric Tower (formerly the Niagara Mohawk Building). Designed by James A. Johnson and completed in 1912, every holiday season the top tiers light up once the sun goes down in red, green, and white light on the top level. It brings me back to childhood: Every time I saw that tower lighting up in those colors, I knew it meant Christmas wasn't far behind. Just beyond that is the Buffalo Savings Bank with its beautiful top, formerly (appropriately) the Gold Dome building. Look as well at the clock tower and surrounding facade for the detail. Right now the sun has lit up that dome, making it seem warmer outside than it really is, thanks to the biting wind. Directly in front of me, my window looks out on the old Olympic Tower, commissioned in 1901 as a  new facility for the second oldest YMCA chapter in the United States and built in an English- Flemish Renaissance style. I love looking at it after I've focused on small print for a while--quite a  nice contrast for my eyes. Even the Hyatt Regency manages to keep some of the old-style architecture with its brick facade and pale green roof, also a stone's throw from my building.  If I walk just a little ways down, I get into the Theater District with Shea's Buffalo, one of the old theaters. I've added the photo gallery for the inside because...just look. You'll understand. Shea's also evokes Christmas memories of donning my prettiest velvet dress to go see The Nutcracker and gaping in awe at the ceiling and other details. I still do.  (detail of the arch on top of Shea's...you can just see it in the top-hand right corner of the picture above) I love the old-style lights. And just a few more random Theater District pictures for you: Tent City! This is a place that sells tents and other Am Vet-type gear...talk about repurposing. Cepa Gallery (photographic art center) There's so much more that I could show you...and I haven't even done a walking tour, which they have many of. I even love the old millinery factory behind me, although it's one of too many buildings downtown that sits vacant, waiting to be repurposed or used in a different way. Too much of Buffalo is that way, but that's an entirely different post. I just wanted to show off my city a bit and express my gratitude that I get to see a little bit of it as I go through my day.

First Week

Made it through, and I truly like what I'm doing. I work with creative, dedicated, passionate people, and while I don't have 26 students whipping into my classroom every 42 minutes, it still has that same pace sometimes, which I realized I actually missed. I do much better with stricter deadlines, so even the fact that I missed out on birthday cake today (which I wouldn't have eaten anyway) because I had to get something proofed by 3pm didn't bother me; I appreciate the fact that my input is needed and valued. This weekend and morning I helped on a major project as well--it felt great. I feel so grateful that I found a job that fits me, and that I managed to hold out and not settle for a position just to have one. I'm also getting used to the different ages--I got used to working with people primarily my age and older, and in this field, I work with (and for) people young enough that I could have taught them. However, at this point that really doesn't matter, and they all know more about this business than I do, so I'm perfectly willing to have them teach me and have the shoe on the other foot. Really, it's a mix of age ranges when I look at it, and everyone here has that same combination of passion, dedication, and a fun spirit, a great fit for someone like me. Plus I feel like I just got out of college again, considering I'm in a new career and learning the ropes every day, which I find invigorating. It's pretty amazing to function as part of a team that helps determine just how the public receives certain businesses' messages...so much goes into this that I never even considered. I love learning about all of it. Plus I have business cards--I'm legit. 

It's taken some adjusting with the new schedule, but we've made it work so far. J has had a few late days at "school", as I call it with him (he learns so much; I'd call that education), but thanks to helpful grandparents, a compromising husband, and an understanding office/Internet capability (if I have to leave early and get work done), I think we'll manage. He finally has settled in and seems to enjoy playing with his friends and his care providers, so that makes T and me happy beyond what we can express. Plus he gets his speech therapy and OT (more on that later) there, so we have our bases covered.

So life has changed for the Frau family, for the better, I believe. Any change brings a little chaos, but I know we'll make it work for us, just as we always have. In the meantime, the boy is happy and learning every day, the husband and I continue to kick butt on our eating plan, and I've rediscovered the beauty of downtown--we have some amazing architecture here that I now get to view every day. Sixteen months after the initial wrench in the works, and we've come out stronger than before. What a long list of things I get to be thankful for on Thursday.

Relief

If you readers have followed this blog with any sort of regularity, you know that I haven't posted as much as I wanted in the past because every time I did, I felt as though I should be looking for work instead. Blogging seemed like way too much of a selfish luxury, and I didn't want to do it once T got home because then I wanted to focus on family time, or we were watching our shows together...I didn't want to shut myself off and blog because that seemed too...self-involved? (I'm working on the martyr bit.) And, honestly, I've felt as though I didn't have much to say. I could regale you with tales of J's cuteness and my improvements at housekeeping, but I wanted to have something more to share. So I stayed quiet. Maybe that was a mistake; maybe I should've made this more of a sounding board for myself, but for whatever reason, I chose not to.

However, that may well change. After sixteen months of unemployment, sixteen months of revised cover letters and resumes, of penny pinching and worrying, of figuring out just what the hell I could do for work and could accept as potential salary, of applying and not hearing or receiving generic e-mail brush-offs, of networking and reconfiguring my expectations...after all that time, I...got...a...job.

I HAVE A JOB. My official title is proofreader and copy editor.

I cannot begin to express the sweet flood of relief upon writing those words. In typical fashion, I had the interview, had a second interview, and then waited for about a week (which felt like ten years) for The Call with my phone attached to my person at all times. Tom Petty put it well: The waiting was the hardest part. I figured no news was good news, but that old chestnut had burned me before, so I tried very hard not to think about it. As a matter of fact, I ended up quite productive that week, so I got something positive out of it. Honestly, when I hung up the phone after receiving The Call, I screamed (J was playing in the other room, thankfully--how ironic to have a moment of happiness marred by scaring my child) and then burst into tears for a good ten minutes. As I said to T, I'd had this feeling of...worry? doubt? fear? a combination of all three (probably)? in my stomach for so long, I'd forgotten it was even there. It just sat there for months, sometimes driving me to do more, sometimes leading me to brief bouts of frustration with various sides of more worry, doubt, and fear. But we made it, we made it through and I plan to work my ever-lovin' butt off to prove my employer made the right decision.

I don't have illusions that this will solve all of my worries, but it sure as hell will help allay them. We still plan to live simply because that suits who we are, but at least we can start saving and look at various house improvements without the additional sigh and thoughts of "someday...". Interestingly, the fact that I've moved away from teaching doesn't make me sad. I'll miss the kids and the classroom. I always loved that, for the most part, reaching whoever I could and imparting some wisdom, humor, and kicks in the tush along the way. I'll miss the energy the students can bring and the questions they ask, whether serious or silly. But I can always tutor if I feel a need tug hard enough, and I have my own little man to teach every day. This place I'm going to work at seems to have that sort of intense energy as well; I have a feeling the pace will match some of what I'm used to. I work better under extremely defined deadlines, and having a colleague say, "I need this proofed for a meeting in two hours" fits well with the way I work. So I've managed to find a field where I can still use my skills but in a different venue. The agency, according to who I spoke with and what I gathered, seems dedicated, slightly frenetic, and passionate about what they do--a good fit for me.

More importantly, this year away has shown me that I truly value my time with my family. Time to cook and talk and spend a Sunday playing with my son or doing yoga with a friend. I have always struggled with time management, and having endless piles of grading did not play to my strengths at all. I've realized where my priorities lie; I never wanted to have to look at J and say, "Sorry, sweetie, Mama has to grade quizzes, but I'll play with you as soon as I'm done." I'll miss the vacations and the summers (and the snow days), but my day-to-day is more important to me. I'll have days where I have to stay late and only see J for an hour, and that will make me sad, but once I'm home, that time is  mine. I value that tremendously, and I have nothing but respect for the teachers I know who manage to have families and get everything else done, what with lesson planning and correcting and having a life outside of that.

Part of me wanted to give my former employer a bit of a kiss-off now that I have employment again, but had I not had this time, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to come to that conclusion. I also wouldn't have had the time with J, which I consider one of the greatest gifts possible. He would have gone into day care at eight weeks (and don't get me started on the backwards joke that constitutes the American maternity leave plan).  Instead, I got to stay with him, watch him grow, and take time getting to know him and myself as a parent. I'll never regret that. So maybe I should thank my old establishment instead, at least in my head. I'm a good person, but I'm not a saint.

What I know is that we made it, T and J and I. We had so much love and support and help from our family and friends, and it brings tears to my eyes to think of the many kindnesses, large and small, that others have bestowed upon us during this time. And we found strength within ourselves that we didn't know we possessed. We got angry and frustrated with each other, yet we came to understandings and talked and grew closer. This hasn't been easy, but our little family weathered the storm and persevered. I think I'm prouder of that than of my even getting the job.

p.s. I'm keeping this off Facebook until I get permission to bugle it to all and sundry, or at least those in my network. I read about people making that mistake, and I want to make the smarter play. I haven't even started it yet; no sense making silly mistakes before I walk in the door.

New directions

Interesting...started a new job today and realized just how much I moved around as a teacher--always crowds of people, always on the go, moving, moving, moving. I feel so grateful to have employment again, but I also miss the pace a bit. I've done the office gig before, but it's been so long that I'd forgotten the solo-ness that can occur. Granted, I'm one of two proofreaders and they have to have enough work to go around. I also have an inkling that this job consists of feast or famine--even today I had a piece I had to look over within a certain time frame because someone else needed it by a certain time. I think I just expected something different, more steady. It probably sounds like I'm complaining, and I don't mean to. One's expectations don't always meet the reality. The people I've met so far seem nice and helpful, which certainly doesn't always happen. Plus this may well lead to something more, and it's always good to say to a future (full-time!) employer, "I'm currently working at X" instead of saying I'm unemployed. 

Our daily morning walk takes us past the high school where I used to work--it's convenient and safe, especially considering we take the walk right at a time of high traffic as teachers, students, and buses come to school. I ran into one of my old colleagues who asked me why in the world I would subject myself to this route at this time. But it's been over a year, and I kind of like running into people I know. Plus, the whole safety and convenience factor outweigh any residual feelings I might have harbored (although sometimes if Penny looks like she's going to make a drop, a tiny part of me wants to leave it there...but I DON'T, don't worry). J gets to see the big school buses and we sing "The Wheels on the Bus", he sees the kids, who often smile at him, and it's fine. However, I did like this morning that we had to hustle so I could get to my job. That was nice.

This and That

First of all, if anyone knows someone at the University of Buffalo who can help me get this job I just applied for, I'd really love the help. It's a job as a student advisor, and it basically entails me prodding students to make sure they do what they need to do for graduation, get organized, and talk to parents. And some paperwork. Oh, I've had plenty of experience with all of that. I can do that 'til the cows come home. I wish there were some way I could call and just talk to someone about how kick-butt perfect I'd fit this position. But I will keep my fingers crossed and keep looking for other stuff in the meantime.

In other news, we've tried lately to get J more interaction with people and places outside our house. He still startles easily and cries, scared by a loud crow from his cousin C, a sharp bark from a dog, or loud crying from another kid. Last week I took J to a music class held in a smallish, echoey room and he did fine, probably because I had him in my lap and a bottle in his mouth the whole time. I know it just takes time and exposure, and I dislike seeing him cry, but I have to remind myself that it's all a part of him getting used to the world. Watching him figure it all out fascinates me. A few friends have told me he'll outgrow it, and I just have to keep giving him experiences. It's not as though he'll cry when he's in middle school and hears a dog bark. It's just that now he cries actual tears (they hadn't quite formed yet), so he just looks so sad, it tugs at my heart a bit. But then he'll see that same dog run after its bone and start laughing, so I know it's one more phase to go through. Pretty amazing, actually.

Today I went over to a friend's house so she could give me a bunch of her boys' old summer clothes. I love the fact that J may well wear them starting tomorrow...and we may even [wait for it] take off the storm windows. Ye gods! Could spring actually stick around? We've got a record-breaking temperature week coming up, so I want to get outside as much as possible before we get hit with at least one more arctic blast. I wouldn't be surprised if we got one more round of wet snow before spring and summer truly hit, but in the meantime, I'll just try to enjoy outside and the time I get to spend in it.

Happy weekend, everyone, and happy St. Patrick's Day!

Boys

Well, J has grown in leaps and bounds...almost crawling, almost sitting up, close to teething.  Today he reached the fabulous milestone of ratcheting his cries up to a scream when he's really hungry.  It's that cry you cringe at when you hear it in the grocery store and promptly turn your cart around and head toward...anywhere else.  But now he has a few new toys from Santa (aka grandparents), so life isn't too bad (as long as milk comes rightnowimmediatelyfasterSCREAM).  I'm pretty excited for his first Christmas and all the ensuing pictures.  He got a sweet little Christmas outfit from my dad and stepmom, so that will enhance the cuteness.  Not that I'm biased.

On a more sober note, yesterday I found out the boy I home-tutored for most of the last school year passed away on Monday.  He had a rare form of cancer and his family viewed his survival as a long shot, but boy did they try.  Kid went through surgeries, chemo, you name it.  I got him through ninth grade English... we met once a week.  We did a lot of talking about non-English related topics, mostly movies, books, Buffalo sports teams, and the annoyance of younger siblings.  Andrew was mature for his age and handled his illness with a lot of humor and calm.  A huge sports fan, he collected all sorts of memorabilia, and foundations such as Carly's Kids and Make a Wish helped him get a few more, plus visits and introductions to many of his sports heroes.  When I heard he'd died, I broke down because...why?  Why a teenage boy?  Why right before Christmas?  And then I thought about it...this last surgery was a long shot at best.  It may sound terrible, but now he doesn't have to suffer chemo or the many side effects, no more colostomy bags, no more weight loss or worrying that a simple cold would become not so simple.  T also pointed out to me that I had the privilege of giving him a normal spot in his life, even if that normalcy involved me chiding him about missed homework deadlines and making him write essays.  I'm so glad I got to work with him and get to know him.  It's one of the privileges of teaching.

But I've also begun to realize that I can do that sort of helping elsewhere, too, outside of that profession.  The idea of getting out of teaching for a while has rolled around in my subconscious for a few months now.  I'm meeting tomorrow with a colleague of my dad's who may be able to connect me with others who can help me find work.  I'm cautiously optimistic...the unemployment's running out relatively soon, and I have to have something under my belt.  In the meantime, I can remember Andrew and hug my own precious, healthy boy.  If I don't get to this site before Sunday, merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it (and happy Hanukkah right now!) and--J is kind of crawling as I write this.  I'm going to go watch that little miracle.

Love to all of you.

Life lesson

Yesterday I had an interview for an English position at a local school, full time.  I prepared for it, went, answered the questions as well as I could, was my bright and charming self, created a writing sample, and...didn't get called for the second round of interviews that afternoon.  Honestly, the waiting felt worse than finding out I lost out.

That told me something, something that's swirled around in my mind for a while (what I wouldn't give for a Pensieve some days): Maybe I should take a break from teaching.  Maybe the universe or some Higher Power has given me the signal that I can use my other skills and interests to do something.  I love teaching, love it dearly, but the paperwork--grading essays, homework, you name it--tripped me up even before I had J.  I can do it...I can get things done, but it's not my strong point when I don't have a deadline imposed on me by someone else.  I don't do self-imposed deadlines well at all because somewhere in my head, I believe it's not a big deal if I don't meet it.  Somehow I don't get that not meeting that deadline means less sleep, less time with T, more stress.  I know it but I don't. 

I certainly don't think going into a job other than teaching will be...easier.  I just think it might be better suited for me.  Right after I found out I didn't get the callback from this place, I immediately called this person my dad knows who can help me find something.  We've got a lunch coming up, we discussed the idea of international student programs (Trick Panda, may need some help on this from your end on this--I'd love to know more about St. Margaret's program if this comes to fruition), using my languages, editing and writing, and I began to get excited.  It felt good to think about using my other talents as well.

This probably sounds repetitive, but I know now that getting cut from my last job has become one of the most serendipitous events in my life.  I would never, ever have had all this time to spend with my son otherwise.  And I wouldn't have the chance to expand my horizons on the job front, either.  Thanksgiving has come and gone, but I find myself still, every day, deeply thankful and grateful for my life and the course it's taking.  What a surprise.

Trade-offs

So I've had a theme in my posts lately, and this one will follow that theme.  I think it's because tomorrow is the first day of school and for the first time in a long while, I won't be part of it.  No laying out that "first day of school" outfit the night before, getting my lunch ready, making sure I have my class lists and attendance book all set to go.  That thrill of a new year, new possibilities in teaching. 

But I'm not sad, not really.  Well, I do feel a bit bittersweet.  However, I have to say that when I watch the kids walk down the path to school and I get to do so in my pajamas while holding my son, who just rolled over for the first time today, I will feel lucky that I have this time, even if it means we're tightly budgeting and a wee bit scared for the future.  Any extra minutes I get to spend with J, I consider a gift, something I wouldn't have if I still had a job.  So there's not a thing wrong with that.

Plus job hunting has reminded me of my other interests and skills--I've widened my net for possible work environments, and it's caused me to re-examine other passions I hold.  While I may not end up in a classroom setting, I can still find a way to use what I love about teaching--reaching out to others and helping them--in another arena.  Who knows what the future may hold in that respect?  I try to look at it as exciting rather than daunting, even in this hideous economy.  Meantime, watching J smile at me and grow a little each day fills me with love and the desire to do all I can for him and our family. 

So I look at September as a month of new possibilities anyway, just differently than I'd expected.  And I look forward to each day.

Closing a chapter

This week I packed up the last of my belongings from my previous job.  T picked them up on Friday and brought them home.  I don't work there anymore.  Since I live so close, it makes my feelings for the place...complex.  Yesterday as I walked the dog and baby, I saw kids getting ready for morning football practice.  One of them called out to me and asked about the baby, gave me a big smile.  It made me smile, but it'll take a little while to get used to the fact that that will not be a part of my life anymore.  Of course, that has its merits--no longer will I have to worry that I'll know the cashier at Rite Aid when I have to buy something personal.  That has actually happened more than once. 

I think the packing brought into sharp clarity that fear I mentioned from my last post--we have a newborn, I'm on unemployment, will we have enough to live on, will I become too expensive to hire because I ironically have too much experience....Nope.  Can't go down that road.  So I will try to look at this as a positive.  I feel so lucky that I'm getting this time to spend with my dear little man.  I don't regret a day of that.  This may give me the chance to try something different, something outside of teaching.  And I never quite felt comfortable at my job, honestly.  I don't want to get too far into it, but I never felt like I truly belonged.  This just gives me new opportunities, and I will try to take advantage of as many of them as I can.

Realizations

Well, it's a bit more of the same, although summer's coming to a close and I don't have a job yet, and frankly, that's scary.  I do have an interview, so I'm hopeful, but I don't even want to write any more about it...superstitious, you know.  I have a tendency to find things to worry about...I don't know if this is just part of my personality or inherited (my mom does spring to mind) or what, but for some reason I sometimes will think of ways that something won't work instead of looking on the bright side.  But as T pointed out, the only way we can think is positively because anything else becomes self-defeating.  We have a beautiful, healthy baby boy, and I give thanks for that miracle every day.  So as long as I remember the great things I do have and think in terms of when I'll get a job, we'll do just fine.  I think in this economy I have to play Pollyanna a bit, plus work hard to make my own luck.  That's the fine but important difference between expecting something good to happen and making something good happen.  I realized that if I think of my life right now in terms of doing for us and not for me, it gives me more impetus to get things done.

I apologize if this seems rambly; these thoughts have swirled around in my head for quite some time now, and I've just gotten the opportunity to give voice to them.  Bottom line, if I live my life fearing what bad things might happen, not as much good will happen, either.

Baby J has begun smiling more.  He rolls to the side and his little face lights up when I get him out of bed in the morning.  We've begun going for more morning walks with him in the Ergo; he tends to fall asleep and drool all over me.  I love it. 

nicknames

I got nothin'. I'm trying to work a lot harder during the week so I can have my weekends back, so that may cut down on blogging a bit. Right now I'm avoiding grading some rather dismal poetry quizzes, so that's my excuse.

I was going to write a post about names and nicknames, but I got so bored writing it that I couldn't bring myself to have all of you read it. I'm bereft of ideas and I don't like writing about work for obvious reasons of getting fired or sued. I have no fun child stories and I won't write about Penny even though I could go on for pages about how sweet she is and how I can't believe she just had her second birthday. When we first brought her home, she was small enough to wash in the kitchen sink. Whoops, there I go again. Maybe Facebook has ruined my ability to write in more than one to four sentence increments? Gaaaaahh. I'll think of something soon. Here are some more tidbits.

• Here's a thought: I found yet another reason to actually like Facebook: An old friend from high school with whom I'd lost touch over ten years ago found me. Just made my week. Plus one of my dad's friends from college found him (OK, I'm not sure if it was through Facebook, but it's still cool) after 38 years of not having seen each other. How awesome is that? I told my mom and she got so excited that all she could say was, "Oh my God!" over and over and began telling me how he'd been her date to some formal and what fraternity he was in. It was very sweet.
• I had trouble with a particular student on Thursday and went to talk to my vice principal about it. He doesn't know me well at all, but he sure as hell knows what he's talking about. I gave him the rundown on the boy's behavior, he assessed it correctly and then told me where it probably came from (basic lack of disrespect for authority, no true role models at home), and proceeded to tell me my instincts were correct and that I seemed to be doing exactly what I needed to. He pointed out that we don't just teach our subject; we teach a lot of behavioral traits as well. I've always believed that, but it's great to hear someone who has 40 years of experience confirm my beliefs. He said, "You are not the fixer; you are the doer," meaning I can only do my best and the student will either respond or not. As long as I'm trying my best, that's enough. I can't fix anyone. It's a good rule of thumb to remember.
• I don't have a third tidbit. Help me think of one. I feel I should have three; three means a list. Two means you just can't think of anything. Umm...Oh! It's really a question: Why do they keep putting more and more damn doctor shows on TV? Can't we think of a new genre other than ERs and crime dramas? This is why I like LOST and Heroes!
  

Vent

So in my banner I write about how I put things on this blog so I won't send those who love me screaming into the night. But I never do that. I keep it all light, for the most part. So here it is, at least some of what I'm thinking. It's a bit of a pity party, but I'm getting it off my chest and they're my feelings, so leave the judgments elsewhere.

Heard today that one of the teachers who has been out for six years on maternity leave wants to do a job share (half the day) with another teacher who's currently out on maternity leave as well. If the other two who do a job share currently go for it again, which they probably will, this means no positions are open next year. Mind you, two MORE teachers in my department are pregnant and will probably take a year off, so that's good if I get one of their positions. But it just reminds me of how completely tenuous my position is here. I try never, ever, to talk about my job too specifically on this blog, but I'm just so tired of watching other women do what I so desperately want to do: Start a family and take off a little work, and then have a job to come back to. I'm going to be 33 years old and I've got people telling me I should do fertility testing in case I have trouble conceiving because I'm not getting any younger. I know full well how old I am. Eff off.

On the one hand, every time I've freaked out about my job situation, I have been extremely fortunate in that I always found a job. I know I'm good at what I do, plus I'm getting a second certification in Special Ed, so I should be able to find something. Selfishly, I would love to stay in the same building I've been in for the past 2 1/2 years and not start over again, putting myself at the bottom of the totem pole, at risk for budget cuts and adrift once again. I know I shouldn't complain because in an unbelievably difficult market, I have a job. I'm pretty sure I'll get one somewhere next year with my credentials. I just have those irrational fears that get in the way, my stupid biological clock's ticking (and I thought it was a MYTH...it's SO NOT, for me at least), and I know it's logical and right to wait until May when I know more of what's happening to me next year, but I'm damned impatient. I feel this also makes me sound as if my current life is unsatisfying or insufficient; it's not at all. I know how deeply fortunate I am to have the home, husband, job, and life that I have.

I just get scared and jealous, if I'm being totally honest. I feel that part of our life is on hold due to circumstances totally beyond our control and it makes me insane. It's not anyone's fault that things are this way. I've had people blame my husband for my frustration, and I find that unfair and wrong and none of their business. This is how I feel right now. Later, I'll be fine and I'll deal and I know everything will work out. In my head, I know that. But I got on Blogger at a weak moment and here it all is, raw and mostly unedited. It's also Tuesday, and for some reason Tuesdays kick my butt. I think it's because on Monday you have the cushion of the weekend but once it's Tuesday, it's just...Tuesday.

However, I have good hair today and a sweet puppy waiting and a loving husband and leftovers in the fridge, and that's saying a lot. I'll go with that. It's more than enough.

addendum

The absentee rate is due to illness. Colds and FLU. Yes, FLU. I think most of it is regular flu. I'm getting my shot on Monday (regular as well) and I just sprayed my entire work area down with Lysol. Now I'm going to go home and gargle with bleach. When you work in a building with 1300 teenagers, you don't take chances.

OK, maybe not bleach. At the least, I'm going to stock up on Airborne. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I had SEVEN kids out in one of my classes yesterday. You understand.

Week in Review

(I wrote this on Friday and got distracted. Whoops!) Very quickly:

Today marks the end of the first full week of school. I've gotten most of the kids' names down, although those last few will take a little while, and that always embarrasses me when I have to say, "Yes, ma'am!" in a teasing way to a student with her hand up because I can't say, "Yes, what's-your-face!" without looking like a creep. Students for the most part are great--freshmen can be very sweet because so many of them still want to please you. It's kind of heart-warming. I also had one huge sophomore ask me hopefully if I would come to his football game and I almost melted into a puddle. Already made a few parent calls, but when we have three assignments and one has been turned in, that actually denotes the start of a pattern. And when I look at last year's comments on the student and see a litany of "Does not turn in homework", 1) that's a pattern, and 2) it means when I talk to the parents, they won't be surprised that I'm telling them this. But that's the minority. Most of them are very nice and just eager. I kind of love that. I want to pat them on the head...while admonishing them for muttering, "That's what she said" to classmates when I say, "Ok, we're at the part in the story where the main character says, 'Harry'...." Yes, that happened. But then the kid raised his hand a lot and chose to read aloud when he knew he wasn't great at it, so he made up for it.

So that's it in my world, a lot of crock pot cooking and grading and reading for class and a little New Moon thrown in for spice. Stephenie Meyer is not a great writer, but these Twilight books are like this generation's Sweet Valley High or something by Joan Collins: It's not great writing, but you just can't put them down. Nice diversion.

OK, leaving in ten minutes, then class, then sushi birthday dinner with DH. Happy Monday!

Still Here

At work/school, so can't post REALLY because I already have umpteen assignments to grade (so I should stop giving homework, I know but I sort of have to).

Prepare yourselves next time for the short but fascinating saga of the new washing machine and dryer!

And yes, it's totally crock pot heaven at our house. So far, it's been orange teriyaki chicken and a big, fat lentil stew with lots of veggies. Oh, and my lunch period this year is at 10:00am. Yesterday I had a snack at that time and then ate the rest at 2pm just before I began EATING MY OWN HAND instead. Adjustments, kids, adjustments!

Happy hump day, my ducks.

Drained

I spent the majority of this weekend reading rough drafts of research essays, most of which answered the question, "Does evil exist?" and putting forth three topics that answer the question. So now that I've spent hours reading about child and animal abuse, molestation, terrorism, serial killers, genocide, arson, and abortion PLUS banging my head on the table as I read the umpty-umpth sentence "They don't care who there hurting" or "There reasons are evil to", I have to distract myself with something delightful. Seriously, one essay had me sobbing and ready to sign my entire paycheck over to the SPCA. They obviously were into their topics, which was great, but I'm emotionally exhausted. T was wonderful this whole week and weekend, cooking me dinner, massaging my neck, and generally showing masses of support. Thank you, honey!

So here's a nice website to go to, compliments of Alice over at Finslippy: Cute Things Falling Asleep

Annnnd, my parents get back from their 20 day trip to Vietnam, so I'll be glad to see them!

P.S. I think my favorite essay typo was the "Untied States".

How did it go?

Well, we lost the dance-off, but we did the sophomores proud. I just hope I haven't lost all credibility as a teacher by struttin' my stuff in front of a gym full of teenagers. Frankly, they screwed us by sending all of us to the "second round", which we had not prepared at all. I was transported right back to college as I attempted to dance to "Pump Up the Jam". Yikes. Sorry, J., no video footage of my amazingness. Now I'm off to watch the Homecoming parade, which goes right by my house.

later...

I always love the parade. They're so proud and they do like to see me waving on the sidelines. I stood in my neighbor's driveway in the slim hope that I can keep people from knowing where I live, but I'm not sure it worked. The best part was the cast of our fall play marching and screaming "One! Flew! Over! The! Cuckoo's! Nest!" over and over.

Didn't make it to the football game because we had to clean the gutters (wheeee), but the dance, ah, the dance. Perhaps I've become an old fuddy-duddy, but good Lord, the fashions have become ugly. Apparently the new dress of choice is this banded bottom dress, which to me looks like a large sweatshirt cuff tacked on to the bottom of the dress. I found a few pictures:





Do you get how short and unattractive these make you look unless you're model-thin, and even then they're not that great? I saw TONS of versions of these dresses. Apparently leopard-print has also made a comeback. I think they theorize that they can wear a shorter dress because it won't ride up as far due to this ridiculous cuff. Some girls looked lovely, but many chose to show off their assets, if you know what I mean. The boys looked pretty standard, nothing exciting there. On the whole it remained a pretty tame experience, with a few kids smoking cigarettes and two who came back drunk, chose to fight it rather than 'fess up, and suffered the consequences. My favorite parts of the night:

• -Colgaters, they played "It's Rainin' Men"! (Hallelujah!) And the kids knew it!
• -I did the "Cha Cha Slide" with four members of my Brit Lit class. It rocked. You know, that slightly obnoxious but fun (yes, fun, honey--T can't STAND this song) song that tells you what to do: "One hop this time! Cha cha now, y'all. Two hops this time! Take it back now, y'all." I think I liked it best because it's impossible to dance suggestively with your date during this song.
• -I ended the night in the foyer instead of the hot, sweaty, hormone-filled gym. Seriously lucky, folks.
• -Some kid asked me to dance. I don't know if he got dared to do it or what, but he seemed sincere. Kind of cute, really. No, I did not dance with him.

Meanwhile, while I chaperoned, DH spent his evening at an Octoberfest our friends had and talked with Ryan Miller and Paul Gaustad (two of our best NHL hockey players) for ten minutes. Lucky jerk.

So, that's Homecoming. A little bit of Americana, kids.

Catching Up: End of School Stories

Oh jeez, I am sooooo sorry I've gone AWOL for so long! The last time I posted occurred right before the last day of classes (just as hot as last time I posted--so excruciating) and then I had to correct my own exams and then I proctored Regents exams and then the English Department spent three days correcting those Regents exams and my car broke down on the way to work and my horse threw a shoe and the computer exploded and melted right in front of my eyes....OK, those last three things did not happen. I don't even drive to work. But seriously, I didn't feel I could update at work and when I got home, all I wanted to do was...not sit in front of a computer. Forgive me [said with Bambi eyes]?

So...let's see...I think this post will include witticisms about the last two weeks of work, because I don't want to start back with my rant about plastic bags (but it's coming, I warn you now) or Scarlet Lily's beautiful wedding because that deserves a post all its own. Well, work. All right. I will state right away that the old joke of "School would be great if it weren't for the kids" did ring true, honestly. Nobody begging for an extension or complaining about it being too hot...wait, we did do that last bit. Whoops. I did actually miss some of my kids and felt absurdly flattered at the ones who asked me to sign their yearbooks. For next year, I will know to sign next to my picture so I don't again see "Jenn, I luv you cuz you take care of me when I'm [really] drunk...." Sigh. I also have had a few that wanted to be my friend on Facebook, which I of course have to gently click "No" to because that crosses a boundary for me that I find it best to keep well established. Again, though, I found it slightly flattering.

After grading my own exams, which "ranged", as I always tell the students (from 43% to 90% this time), I then had the joy of helping grade the Regents exams. For those who don't know, NY has every single 11th grader in public school take the same exams. The English one takes place over two days and has them write a total of FOUR essays. In an un-air-conditioned gym. This may sound mean, but the fun for us in grading is when we come across an unusual or stand-out exam. I think the best came from their reading about skin cancer and having to write an article about it:

[starting sentence] "THE SUN DOESN'T LIKE YOU!"

"When a person thinks of the sun, one word comes to mind: cancer."

"Parents, why not pay for a spray-on tan so your kids can be safe and ready to look great at prom?"

My other favorites involved a few kids who apparently read the manual How to Kill a Mockingbird. (Step one, get BB gun for Christmas. Step two, do not aim at Miss Maudie while she's tending her flowers.) We did have some great ones, too, as with the student who wrote that Huck Finn and Holden Caulfield both wanted to escape from society in their own way. With the fourth essay, they had to read a quote, interpret it, agree or disagree with it, and then choose two literary works that backed that up (as with the previous sentence). This year's quote came from David Mamet:

"...the human lot in life is to try and fail..."

Not uplifting, but it works with a lot of what they read. What we all found interesting was the number of students who read it as "humans attempt to fail" because in slang, you say or write, "I'm going to try and clean my house today" instead of "I'm going to try to clean my house today." So some kids read the quote as the former, viewing it as "the human lot in life is to try to fail". One student wrote that the human race is trying to kill itself. He did disagree with it, I'm pleased to report.

Now that that's done, I get to wait for my room assignment and schedule. Hopefully I find out about this tomorrow, because I'd like to set up camp soon. Plus I got to do every teacher's dream today: order supplies for next year. All teachers secretly (or openly) would love to go to Office Max with a $1000 gift card and go nuts. Mostly we just go and gaze at all the different kinds of pens, Post-Its, and folders available to us, with a little knot of excitement gurgling in our bellies. Truly, I'm going there tomorrow to get accordion folders to organize my literature units and I could not be more excited. I also get to see if my office still has a wall tomorrow-- truly. The maintenance staff had to move my desk four feet away from the wall due to some fire code and they have to put up a new wall, so I may very well come in tomorrow with a desk that faces a set of lockers in the chemistry hallway. I'll let you know.

Whew! Enough of a catch-up for now? Have a good Tuesday, folks.