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.

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.

Good food, good folks, good fun

This past weekend I had a few friends over for a Fabulous Females Night--specifically my busy mom friends. I asked that they each send me a copy of their favorite easy, go-to, weeknight meal and bring some to share. The result was five of us around my little kitchen table eating and talking about cooking, kids, and just about everything else under the sun. We all remarked how great it was to eat something we might never think of ourselves and how nice it was to get out of the house and chat, just the ladies. Truly, that's exactly why I did it: I don't give myself time with other female friends--sans kid--often enough. T actually encourages me to do so more frequently. I too often fall into the Teri Hatcher mode of metaphorically "eating the burnt piece of toast", taking the bad for myself so others can have the good. She wrote a book of a similar name...who knew a former Desperate Housewife could hit certain aspects of motherhood on the head so well? But I do--I take the scraps to make sure everyone else has what they need. That puts me in danger of the martyr role, and I do not want to go down that road. Fortunately I have T, who will never let me do that, and, as I wrote, he reminds me to get out of the house and have my own fun. And why wouldn't I want to have more nights like the one I just did? Do any of you do that? How do you avoid it (or do you)?

Additionally, feel free to pass along any of your own go-to, quick-and-easy meals. I've posted mine below, which I got right off of Pinterest. By the way, have you heard of AllRecipes' Dinner Spinner? It's an app for a smartphone that lets you find a recipe by using a few categories (Type of meal, main food, and length of time). For example, the other night I had tilapia and no recipes, so I chose "main meal", "fish", and "20 minutes and under", and the site came up with numerous choices. I also read the comments on my chosen recipe selection for additions and suggestions, several of which enhanced the meal. Having started this new diet/way of eating with T, we've chosen to get creative, and we value each bite, so I want to truly enjoy what I eat...while sometimes whipping it together quickly. You understand.

Greek Turkey Burgers
(linked to the source for copyright and picture purposes;
my comments in italics)


2 cups extra lean turkey (99 Percent Fat Free)
1/2 cup Panko bread crumbs (we can't do grain/bread right now, so I used ground flax seed)
1 tsp Garlic Powder
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp dried basil
1/2 tsp salt
1 egg
1 cup chicken broth
1/2 cup roasted red peppers, chopped (if you use a jarred kind, make sure to get the type that is in water, NOT oil)
1/2 cup artichoke hearts, chopped (Again, water, not oil. I used canned.)
1/4 cup Feta cheese
pinch of salt and pepper
4 low calorie whole wheat muffins (100-110 calories) (We didn't use the English muffins--no grain--but we didn't feel at all deprived)
4 T fat free sour cream

In a bowl, add the turkey, Panko, garlic, oregano, basil, 1/2 tsp salt, and egg. Using your hands, mix until combined. Split into four equal portions and form into patties. 

You’ll need  a skillet that has a lid. Place it over medium high heat and spray with cooking spray. Allow to get hot but not smoking. Cook the patties for about 3 minutes, or until browned. Turn over and cook for another 3 minutes. Add the chicken broth to the pan, cover and allow to steam for about 10 minutes or until the internal temperature of the patties reaches 165 degrees. Remove from pan and allow to drain on a stack of 3-4 paper towels. 
In a bowl, add the artichoke hearts, roasted red peppers, feta, and a pinch of salt and pepper. 

Lightly toast the English muffins. Spread the English Muffins with 1/2 T fat-free sour cream on each side. Place the turkey patties on the English muffins, add the artichoke/red pepper mixture.

Update

I think my last post may have had a tone I didn't mean to elicit, so now I'm wondering if I did it unintentionally.  I meant for it to sound matter-of-fact, me trying to make myself realize that things are actually pretty good right now even though money's tight.  But as a result, I received various e-mails and comments and phone calls of support, so thank you to my lovely friends and family for your endless support.  Plus today, for some reason, I feel I made some potentially good inroads to getting a job.  I have no specific evidence as to why I feel this way, aside from using LinkedIn to make a connection and looking at another university job.  Who knows if either will pan out, but simply making those moves buoyed me immensely.  My mother would be so proud of me: both she and DH rock when it comes to making a Plan (you must capitalize The Plan).  They're both detail-oriented when it comes to getting things done, so I get it from both sides.  This helps because I do not always get those details that seem screamingly obvious to them, like immediately seeing who we know when I apply for a job so I can possibly get my resume noticed above the other hundreds like me, clamoring for work, or making a List of What I Have to Do and What to Do to Make Things Happen. 

But I digress.  On this crazy Friday night I have successfully managed to cook a great dinner and finish Mockingjay, PLUS get a haircut and have nice-looking salon hair, so the fact that it's 8:40 and I may well go to bed in 20 minutes does not faze me.  Did I ever think I'd have this life?  Me on one couch, T on the other, excited about the fact that we just got new space heaters for the bedrooms, both with one ear listening for noise on the baby monitor?  Hardly.  Yet I love the life I have.  It would take too long to explain; I just know I'm happy and plan to work very hard at staying that way.

On a side note, the other night I made an amazing Brazilian fish stew (Moqueca) that T pronounced "restaurant-grade quality".  Got the recipe from my dad over a year ago and finally got around to it.  It's really not hard to make at all, although we have to save it for an "every-so-often meal" in terms of splurging on the fish.  If the idea of a slightly spicy, hearty white fish stew revvs your engine, make this dish immediately.  It calls for serving with rice, but we didn't bother.  Doesn't need it, I think. 

Ah, yes, I know I promised Little Man pictures.  Forthcoming.  And wait until you see J in his Halloween costume (thanks to Toddler Tamer!)....

What I know

Wow, time flies.  I didn't realize it had been so long since I last posted; I'll try to do better.  However, right now most of my days consist of playing with J, learning the ins and outs of his dietary and digestive habits, and looking for jobs.  I love the J part, although the job search gets a bit frustrating. 

To that end, here is what I know:  I cannot control

...the job market
...why people choose to hire or not hire the way they do
...the weather
...whether people call me back or not
...how long J naps
...the quality of T's day at work
...the health of my loved ones
...the fact that we simply have to spend money on certain things
...certain changes my body has gone through, post-baby

I can control
...how much I pursue a job and the avenues I choose to take to get one
...how I present myself as a candidate
...dressing for warmth, wind, and rain
...making attempts to get together with friends and meet new people
...the general pattern of J's days and what I do within my days
...how I respond to T when he's had a hard day to make it a better one
...positive thoughts and vibes, calling the doctor when J feels bad, trusting my instincts
...my spending on frivolous items, staying within our budget
...working out in tiny increments when I can, eating healthily, accepting the fact that my body's changes have resulted in the most fabulous life change I've ever had the privilege of going through

So I'll do my best to live the Serenity Prayer, really.  Not a bad way to go about things, is it?

(Upcoming:  lots of pictures of J)

A Quick List of Things I Have Learned to Do One-Handed

This should imply I have the baby occupying the other hand.

I'll post pictures soon...I think J may be going through another growth spurt, so I'm on call a lot lately.  He's also rolling over and then becoming royally ticked because he can't roll back or hold up his head well yet, so I do a lot of rescuing.  He's like a reverse little bug, except he's stuck on his tummy instead of his back, poor little guy.  But he can already use his legs to thrust himself forward.  We may be in trouble....

Anyway, here goes (and yes, I'm doing this LEFTY)

• type (obviously)
• eat
• take out and fold laundry
• put a bottle together
• dress J (while holding him in place with the other)
• Push a stroller with the dog on her leash using the other hand (work in progress)
• text

I bet there are more, but I can't think of them right now.   By the way, my friend L sent us a Halloween costume for J that will make you melt from the sweetness.  When I post the picture at the end of next month, I dare you not to react. 

P.S. Twelve weeks today!  And happy birthday, dear sister M!

Ten Years Later

I feel a need to write about September 11, 2001.  If you don't want to read it, that's fine.

I'd just begun my third year of teaching in a very small town in Virginia.  Strangely enough, not two days before that in a class discussion, I had informed my rather sheltered female students that they should count themselves lucky that war had never truly touched their lives.  They'd agreed.  [I bet they're remembering me saying that, too.]  Little did we all know. 

I had sent a girl down to the book room to get a class set of a novel we were supposed to begin that day.  She came back after a while and told me that nobody was in there; a plane had hit one of the World Trade Centers and all the adults had gone to watch the coverage on TV.  In typical student fashion, the girls immediately begged me to go watch as well.  In typical teacher fashion, I told them we'd finish our grammar lesson, but then I'd let them go watch because I wanted them to be informed about what was going on in the world.  Two minutes later, a voice came on over the intercom and asked us to go to the chapel.  We knew then something had happened.

The headmistress informed us all that two planes had hit each of the Twin Towers in New York.  Not only that, a third plane had hit the Pentagon.  At this one of my teacher friends uttered a scream and ran from the room to call her mother, who worked there.  We were in northern VA; a few other girls had family members in that same building.  Thankfully, nobody lost anyone in that tragedy.  I remember feeling overwhelmed, wanting to know if my sister and friends who lived in NYC were all right, wanting to rush to the phone myself.  At that same moment I knew I had to put on a brave face for my students, just teenagers who quite suddenly had war thrust upon their formerly quiet lives.  The head of school sent the girls to their dorms or the cafeteria (I don't recall) and asked the teachers to stay. 

We made the decision to go on with classes as best we could for some sense of stability, even if we couldn't really teach lessons.  We'd resume after the next period technically began.  [G and N, am I getting this right?  Do you remember?]  As we filed out of the chapel, I remember looking at my fellow teacher, Leigh, and not having any words; neither of us did.  We simply reached out to each other and hugged tightly for a few long minutes, young twenty-somethings who'd realized how much our world had changed in such a short time.  I went to class and for the rest of the day the girls and I began the period talking about what had happened for part of the period, then attempting a lesson to achieve some sense of normalcy.  At lunch I rushed home and called my parents, desperate for news of my sister, A.  She'd managed to call my dad before the lines flooded and became unusable to tell him she was OK.  I remember turning on the TV and watching the coverage by myself, holding my dog Boo close and wondering why this had all happened, how were my other friends, would I know anyone who had died.  My friend T called to tell me our other dear friend L was safe, and I thought with a shock that L hadn't crossed my mind in the wake of worrying about my sister.  I felt terrible.

Strangely, my sister, abroad in Italy, had called my mother to find out what the hell happened before my mother had even turned on the TV or radio.  Her professor told her and her fellow students not to travel in large groups and to say to anyone who asked that they were Canadian.  The memorial e-mails began to fly the next day.  I remember sitting in my classroom alone the next afternoon after having looked at one particularly poignant group of pictures: stills from the tragedy combined with vigils that had sprung up around the world.  I put my head down on the keyboard and finally let myself weep for those who had died so needlessly and for the bizarre act of terrorism fueled by hate and religious zealotry.  A student came in to ask for something and I waved her off, unable to even look at her.  A day after that, the beep for the intercom came on in the middle of class again and we all froze, only to hear that some teacher had a phone call.  We all let out breaths of relief at the mundane announcement, recognizing at the same time how things had changed....never before had we felt fear at that innocuous little noise.

After the dust had literally and figuratively settled, I discovered I knew two girls who had perished:  Lindsay Morehouse, a year behind me in high school, and Cat Macrae, a girl I'd known a bit from summers in Southampton.  I don't bring up their names to be macabre or just to make a connection; I do it in remembrance of lives cut short.  We've all been touched by September 11 in some way.  Complacency of living in America--who would dare attack us?--has gone, replaced not by fear, at least in my mind, but realization that we cannot afford complacency of any kind.  I don't take things for granted as I used to.  I realize how fleeting life can be and how fortunate I am to have people in my life who love me as they do. 

So today I'll probably watch some of the coverage, hold my baby tightly, and kiss my husband a bit more than usual.  I'll look back on these ten years and what it's brought.  And I'll try to be grateful.

Beginnings and Endings

OK, so a few posts ago I titled it "beginnings", and now I have both.  This baby is imminent (and I really hope the next time I post it will be me looking exhausted and weepy with a teeny tiny, wrinkly, gorgeous little bean in my arms)--not quite as imminent as I'd like, considering he hasn't dropped enough yet.  However, I plan to eat spicy food and have a beer on Friday and hope for the best.  I'd love for T to have a true Father's Day if possible, so please send good "come into the world" vibes for him.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to get everything in place. I just finished up the last of my major grading last week and I've got lovely colleagues helping finish my exams for me.  I've cooked up and frozen a few meals (although I probably should do more!) for us to defrost when I'm so tired I can't see straight.  We've been working like mad people to get the room and the house ready:  My mom and sister have come over numerous times to help clean and re-organize, and the baby's room now looks ready, don't you think?:

The organized closet is all my mom and sister M
(Toddler Tamer, recognize the bathrobe?)

Mom and M also re-arranged the clothing drawers.

AND, T finally got the opportunity to get the dining room painted--doesn't it look awesome?  As he said, it's Big Kids.  It looks like a totally different place.  I also love the Pack-n-Play in the middle of things.  We picked the color partly because we loved it and partly because we could not pass up the name:  LaFonda Green.  Not kidding.  How can you not paint your dining room LaFonda Green?

(a little Napoleon Dynamite reference)

 Before

 After (we haven't put the art back up yet)

T also rearranged our bedroom--all he did was angle the bed, and it changes the whole room:  We've unblocked the window and just given this whole new dimension of space.  Obviously Penny likes it.

 

I also realized I better get you one more picture of me, so it's not great, but here I am, right before baby J comes.  My dear friend D, a great photographer, took some genuine lovely pregnancy shots (no, I did not go au naturel), but I don't have them yet, so this will have to do:

He just has to drop a leeetle more.

So that's the latest wrap-up with us.  Hopefully we'll have some news soon!

Transitions

Hello! Hello from a place where spring has finally sprung and the Buffalo Sabres are in the playoffs and budgets mean possible job changes (more on that later) and I just had to get new garments for my endlessly changing body. LOTS of changes.

On the pregnancy front, I have suddenly become significantly more winded after climbing stairs. I look at this in two ways, depending on my mood: 1) Oh, dear, does this just mean it will get WORSE before June? and 2) This means the baby is healthy and growing, so it makes sense that he will fight for space with my lungs. I attempt to focus on #2. It makes me happier. Little man bops around like a jumping bean right now. Yesterday he had hiccups--I know this because I was lying down with the laptop just below my belly and he actually caused the computer to move with the force of his own self. Amazing. He also seemed to respond well to the kick-ass David Bowie station T made on Pandora.com--I feel this bodes well for his musical taste. And for those who asked, here are the latest pictures of us:

I know I have no face in these, but trust that I am smiling or looking serene. The ladder in the background marks T and various wonderful, helpful friends' attempts to paint both our dining room and the baby's room. T has done a wonderful job, especially considering that we've learned the hard way that spackle takes a lot longer to dry than we had assumed and ceiling water damage means paint will either not stick or will chip right off. My dad was in town last weekend for my grandma's 96th birthday (awesome) and helped paint the ceiling in the baby's room, which looks terrific. I'm so glad he got to be a part of it, even if it did mean manual labor for him:

I just like this one because it signifies what's to come:

And here's the beginning of the paint; doesn't it look nice?

Thus the rest of the house looks like a bomb hit it while furniture and glassware waits patiently to go back to its old (or new) home, but it all means something new and nicer is on its way. More to come!

Karma

I meant to write about this before, but the week went by in a complete blur. Anyway, last Sunday I headed to the coffee place the next little town over to get some grading done. I go there fairly often because it has the right white noise atmosphere that helps me get work done, a combination of big band/jazz music and human conversation. Plus they have delicious pastries. I did some grading, left, and as I walked through the parking lot, I found $12 in the snow. I looked around and didn't see anyone, thought about it for a minute, and made a decision: Walking back into the coffee shop, I put $2 in the tip jar and handed the $10 to the barista behind the counter, asking him to pay for the next person's coffee. I could've kept it for myself, but I figured since the thought crossed my mind to give it to someone else, I should. I have no idea if coffee boy simply pocketed it or did a good deed; I at least made an attempt to pay it forward.

Upon getting ready for work the next day, I realized I couldn't find one of my homework folders, filled with assignments my one class period had turned in. When I got home, I planned to ransack the house to find it even though I'd already looked once. As I got ready to go home at the end of the day, I received a call from the front office saying someone from the coffee house had found a folder of mine and they had it waiting for me. It turns out I'd left it there (pregnancy brain or just me? probably a combination of both...) and an out-of-work music teacher who works there as a barista had spotted it in the lost and found. Fortunately, she realized it belonged to a teacher and actually called two schools before calling mine to see if a Mrs. Frau who taught ninth grade worked there. I discovered this when I went back to get it and fell all over myself thanking this young woman that she'd taken such time and effort to make sure I got my materials back. She truly saved me a lot of agony in that simple yet significant act.

Would I have gotten the folder back had I not given up that $12? I don't know. I hope so, but I prefer to look at it as one good act begetting another. The entire cycle of events gave me a nice boost of faith in the importance of doing good for others, no matter how small.

Go-To Dinner: Barbecue Pulled Chicken Sliders

Hey, folks! Just a quick post sharing my new favorite go-to, super quick, relatively healthy dinner I just found in Cooking Light. We tried these tonight with great success. Enjoy!


Barbecue Pulled Chicken Sliders:
For a less sweet option, use sliced dill pickles.

Total: 20 minutes
Yield: 4 servings (serving size: 2 sandwiches)

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup no-salt-added ketchup
• 1 tablespoon dark brown sugar (I used light brown; tasted fine)
  
• 1 tablespoon cider vinegar
• 1 teaspoon chili powder
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
• 1/2 teaspoon dry mustard (I bet regular would work, too)
  
• 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
• 2 cups shredded skinless, boneless rotisserie chicken breast
• 8 (1.3-ounce) sliders mini buns (such as Pepperidge Farm)
• 8 bread-and-butter pickle chips

Preparation

1. Combine first 10 ingredients in a small saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a simmer; cook 3 minutes or until slightly thick, stirring occasionally. Add chicken to ketchup mixture; stir to combine. Cook 2 minutes or until chicken is thoroughly heated.

2. Spoon 3 tablespoons chicken mixture on bottom half of each bun; top each with 1 pickle chip and top half of bun.

Nutritional Information

Calories: 400

Fat: 7.5g (sat 2.3g,mono 0.9g,poly 0.5g)

Protein: 30g

Carbohydrate: 52.7g

Fiber: 1.9g

Cholesterol: 60mg

Iron: 2.7mg

Sodium: 481mg

Calcium: 83mg

I did this in under 15 minutes. As a new mom-to-be, I have begun looking at recipes that take 20 minutes or so. Trust me, as I find more of them, I'll post them.

Summer Wrap-Up

Hi. Hi! How are you? I know I meant to post all the time during the summer and then...summer happened. And I didn't want to go upstairs to my hot computer and post. I'm sorry. Plus my laptop was broken, so I couldn't go somewhere cool to blog. I blame the laptop. Bad, bad laptop.

So I'll give you all a quick re-cap:

• Once a week, I taught Alternative Ed to about five students. These kids for the most part are more academic delinquents than juvenile; they just didn't fit the mold for normal school hours. I found them both trying and endearing. The one kid who didn't do anything now has me for 1st period English. Keep your fingers crossed for him. And me.
• Because I have an entirely new class this semester, I tried to spend 2 hours a day preparing for fall. A lot of this included reading new novels. I did pretty well--it also helps that I have no kids to take care of and that I live three hundred yards away from school, so I did a lot of photocopying over the summer.
  
• On that note, with the help of a lovely doctor-lady, I found out that I do NOT have ADHD but do have deficits in organization and time-management. Case in point: I missed our last appointment because I forgot to put it on my calendar. That, kids, defines irony. Fortunately we did the appointment over the phone. So I've tried very hard to make my Google Calendar my end-all, be-all, updating it and color-coding it and using the Task list like crazy. It's helped tremendously. As a result, for the first time EVER I started the school year today totally ready and not mildly panicked because I had everything labeled, in its proper color folder, and ready to go. I still have a lot to work on, but at least I'm getting tools in place.
• I worked out faithfully and lost no weight, nor do my clothes fit more loosely. So I went on Weight Watchers with T and got my trainer friend A to kick my butt. So far, so good.
  
• This August T and I went to Denver, CO to watch our dear friends get married on the side of a mountain--just a lucky handful of us got to see them perform their own vows (legal only in CO and PA to do that!) and all of us wept at the beauty of the moment, the couple, the scenery, the love. Plus Denver's a cool town to visit AND, as I type this, the newlyweds are headed back to Buffalo to live, so we get them back because, as I told the bride last summer, WE HAVE DIBS. I'm sorry, Bostonian and Tennesseean friends. I CALL 'EM.
• Got into the Stieg Larsson trilogy and cannot stop reading them. I just love Lisbeth Salander. LOVE her.
• Also got into Mad Men. Don Draper is the man you love to despise. He's such a terrific flawed anti-hero. I also pledge here and now to stay far, far away from the Betty Draper Method of Parenting.
• Speaking of parenting, my sister M and her husband C expect a baby in January! Plus they moved back to the B-lo as well, so it's happiness all around.
• I decided to call people and get in touch more, take my own advice and make the effort. So far, it's worked quite well. I plan to keep it that way.
• I finally found and began compiling our wedding pictures. Whoops. Looking through them and remembering the joy of the day, captured so well on film, has brought such joy. I'll try to put together an album soonish.
• OH! T got a new job and loves it. It's at a similar company to his old one but gives him the opportunity to spread his wings a little. I am so, so proud of him.

That's it, really. I never got my garden started, but we have some fun and necessary house projects coming up. T and I decided to become more organized, together, for a lot of reasons, least of which includes less stress for us. Friendships waxed and waned, small decisions we made will have good ripple effects later....really, it's just life that happened. More to come.

T and me in Colorado

So much...

...to try to compile. But right now I'm at work so I will make this short. I'm grading exam essays. Lots and lots of essays. And as I read them, I'm questioning my own skill as a teacher because some of them are making me cry....

I think the reason I haven't posted as much is because 1) it's the end of the school year, and 2) our laptop has gone on the fritz, so I'm not as motivated to go upstairs away from husband and dog (and cool air) to write. Sorry--I love you all, but I love my comfort more. Is that wrong? No. No, it's not.

However, summer recipes and pictures and stories are soon to come, so stay loyal, dear ones.

Play Nice

I've been reading a few of my usual blogs lately and have stumbled upon the mommyblog difficulties that have arisen between a blogger called Chicken Liver and various other bloggers. I realize that I've seen some of her negative comments on blogs before and I always vaguely wondered why she would bother. I now understand she had an entire blog devoted to bashing certain women whom she felt were abusing their power as writers, neglecting their children or families in some way, etc. While I recognize that in this country, everyone has a right to her (or his) own opinion, in reading some of her prior posts, I personally found them to be vitriolic and hateful on an unnecessary level. She verbally attacked these people's children, posted home addresses, and wrote commentary on a level I find unnecessary--and growing.

I just don't understand it. While anyone who posts writing on the Internet has the right to express her feelings because it's all opinion and personal experience, and that person may well have detractors who vehemently disagree with said opinion and personal experience, why make a point of spending time and energy writing down mean comments about other people whom you don't know? I also see this constantly in reading comments on news articles. People are so quick to judge without knowing a whole situation, so quick to put their two cents in in a negative way, writing about how someone is stupid or wrong or racist or Socialist or what-have-you.

Why do it? Perhaps I'm naive, but when did we become so mean? What purpose does it serve?

I think this has come to mind as well because we've had more fights in my school than in times past, and I asked the kids why they thought this was happening. I got a whole host of answers ranging from "they're just being stupid; the fights are pointless" to "he was defending his cousin because someone said bad stuff about her" to "because it stops that person from talking trash about you" to "because they're new and being picked on". (People still pick on the new kid? How cliche'. How lame.) As T said, "I have to respect you for you to be able to offend me." So why bother? When I pointed out T's position, they said, "Yeah, but if you walk away, then you're weak/wimping out". It doesn't surprise me, but it saddens me to hear that perspective.

I never got into fights when I was younger. I didn't see the point, and I stuck to people who were nice and liked me and whom I liked. My rationale is that if you're nice to people, it creates a ripple effect and everyone benefits from it. Finslippy posted about this recently in the vein that we need to recognize that when people act snarky, there may be a reason for it. Perhaps that person's having a bad day and chooses to take it out on the other guy. Perhaps she's just found out some terrible news. Or stayed up all night sick. Who knows? That's the question, isn't it?

I try--I really, really try--to not react too quickly when confronted with meanness or rude people, and I try not to snap at others when I'm in a bad mood myself. When a student snaps at me, it takes a lot for me not to have a knee-jerk response; I've tried to train myself to ask, "Are you ok today? Because the only reason I can think of that you would talk to me that way is that you're having a bad day." Admittedly, my tone of voice ranges from genuine concern to I'm giving you a chance to apologize for acting like a twerp, so be smart and shape up, kid. It tends to work. I've used it on non-students as well, usually taking the less confrontational tone. It still works pretty well. I'm not perfect; I've definitely snapped at folks, but I don't make it my M.O.

I guess what I'm trying to point out is that if we act nice to each other and treat each other kindly, it will continue, just as negativity breeds more of the same. So be kind and reap the benefits. You'll live longer. There's just no point living an angry, bitter, constantly-on-edge life.

Now I'm going to go hug the dog and give my husband a kiss.

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!
  

Oh, the humanity

I started this post earlier on in the week but didn't get to it until today. In my sophomore class, we were doing a wrap-up of Mark Twain's essay "The Lowest Animal", an extremely ironic essay in which he uses biting humor to point out that, because of man's terrible habits, he should actually be listed as the lowest animal, not the highest. We did a quick run-down of what Twain writes about humans: They're greedy, war-mongering, cruel, the only ones who enslave, the only creature that blushes (or needs to, he points out), hypocritical patriots, narrow-minded of other religions. So I asked the class, Is he right? Are we still this way? Without hesitating, they all said yes. This prompted a follow-up: Can we change this? Is there any hope for humanity?

These kids, at fifteen, resoundingly answered No in my one class. No, they did not think there was hope for humanity; no, they did not think we could change. When I asked why, they responded that things had just become really bad and that they'd simply continue in this way because that had become the way of the world. A few still held out hope, pointing out good deeds and suggestions of small movements that could and did turn into larger ones. I mentioned the Greek story of Pandora, where while she let out all the bad in the world, hope still remained.

What got me most upset--and I told them this-- was that in their fifteen years on earth, those who came before them had given them this sort of mindset; we have apparently handed our youth a world full of despair and cruelty, and they don't see it getting any better. I urgently told them they had to because if they didn't see a vision of a better world, it wouldn't happen. I said they made me even more determined to do what I could to change their vision. I want to bring up something hopeful every day to these kids to prove them wrong. God, I hope I can prove them wrong.

My other class took a more hopeful view, with one student even saying that he believes we all have the ability to make the world a better place--we just have to choose to. This is a student who rarely speaks up in class and seems fairly frustrated with school (as only a fifteen year-old boy can be), so I found it deeply heartening to hear him say this. Some did think humanity was destined for apocalypse, but others pointed out that Twain was looking at the world from his perspective and had seen different things than today's youth had--the students in my classroom simply hadn't had the life experience that Twain had, and perhaps Twain had a darker perspective on the world. They did recognize that all great and good movements start with a small group of dedicated individuals...as do the terrible movements. So it can go both ways.

I realize a lot of the discussion could have come from the fact that it's winter. It was 7:30 in the morning and they weren't quite awake, but were tired and resentful of being at school so early. They're teenagers and prone to melodrama. But it made me think--we of generations past have to help create a world that fifteen year-olds see some good in. At least, I think so. If that makes me naive, so be it. So I leave you with a pretty cool, palindrome-like poem. It gives me hope, and I hope it does for you, too. Do try to read it with the audio to get the full gist.

On a final note, here's a link to various ways you can help those in Haiti:
http://www.google.com/relief/haitiearthquake/

This is just to say...

That's actually the start of one of my favorite poems by William Carlos Williams, but anyway, I just wanted to point out quickly that what started off as a kind of crummy (to use one of our vocab words, atrocious) day turned into a positive one. I began with sleepy students in one class, overly "funny" students in another (ah, fifteen year-old boys), felt a little blue about silly stuff I can't control, and then had a great, positive, helpful chat with my colleague J, who gave me a lovely pep talk and delicious dark chocolate. Next I did an exercise with my freshmen in which I taught them how to write an introductory paragraph. Not terribly exciting to you, but part of the exercise involved them looking over a paragraph I had written and critiquing it. Once they realized I really did want their feedback, they started pointing areas where I could improve, from repetition of the same word to awkward sounding language that needed smoothing over to missing details.

People, when you get fourteen year-olds examining writing and actually seeing what works and what doesn't and having the ability to verbalize that, it's huge. HUGE. Plus they couched their comments so well--honest yet kind. I praised them to the high heavens, but they deserved it. I have a wonderful batch of freshmen this year; I feel extremely lucky that I've got a lot of eager little beavers. It just made my whole day. Tonight I have a girls' night out with sister C. and Mom, plus T got us a super deal on a gym membership and I plan to work out, so I feel very fortunate that I get to move into the second half of the week on such a high note.

Hope you have good Wednesdays as well!

p.s. As per one of Ouiser's recent posts, my next one may well be about snow. We have lots of it. LOTS. You have been warned.

Taking Stock

I haven't even had time to read others' blogs, much less really post to my own. The time between Thanksgiving and Christmas for a teacher flies at breakneck pace, and I just finished up my last ever certification class, so that's one part off my plate. which is nice. Don't get me wrong; I love what I do, but I think when you mentally prepare for something that's coming, like a break, you get into a certain mindset that's hard to get out of. I've felt alternately Grinchy and supremely Christmassy at different times over the last few weeks.

Last weekend I went to a memorial service for a family friend who died of breast cancer. She was 41 and left behind a loving family, including her husband and four year-old twin boys. Wait, no. Don't get too sad. Yes, of COURSE it's tragic. But I went to her service and realized just how much she did with her life, every day, even though she knew it was limited. She fought her cancer for about seven years, if I remember correctly, and it even went into remission for a while. As her husband so eloquently said at the service, she faced each day as an exciting challenge and did so with a good deal of grace and optimism. She didn't ignore what was happening to her; she just didn't let it rule her life. Every time I saw Gyda, she had a smile on her face and she lit up a room; the number of people there to bear witness to her life demonstrated just how much she affected those she came into contact with. What touched me most was that her husband pointed out to his boys that all the people in that room loved Mommy and would help them remember and love her.

It just put a lot into perspective. I'm so grateful for what I have, grateful that we had to make room in the refrigerator last night for the food we'd just bought. I have so much that I try not to take for granted, although I have my moments, just as anyone does. It's funny that at the holidays, this time of "peace", I and others feel so frantic all the time. I haven't gotten my holiday cards out yet, and I have friends who made SURE they were there on my doorstep on December 1. I'm trying to keep a budget but not shortchange anyone. I don't know if it's consumerism that makes us all crazy because we buy into it (hah! I made a funny!) or what? The kitchen is a constant mess, along with other areas of the house. If I hear one more "news" story about Tiger Woods that doesn't involve his performance during a golf tournament, I will go completely insane. I feel that friends I attempt to make contact with don't return my phonecalls, and I wonder if it's that they're simply busy or it means we're slipping away from each other. I keep meaning to exercise but something always gets in the way, whether it's school or grading or grocery shopping or my own lack of motivation. The other night I was in a hideous mood for no reason I could put my finger on, my head full of doubts and negative thoughts.

I don't know where all of this is going. The two paragraphs seem to completely contradict each other. But I guess what I'm trying to express is that I think we all need to find our tiny moments of peace and serenity when and where we can get them, and we need to remember that what's important is how we live our day to day moments. At the end of your life, nobody cares if the kitchen was clean. So I leave you with something that the King of Consumers, Starbucks, put together. It's actually pretty fantastic, so enjoy. Enjoy each other.

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.