Trying to figure schtuff out

In love with Wordle.net

2009-01-30T23:06:00.001-08:00

This is a cluster I made with Steinbeck's Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech:

And one I made of SuperMama, the superhero I created with my English support students:

I really love Wordle.

Twilight

2008-09-05T21:48:00.000-07:00

I'm glad to be done reading the entire saga. It sucked away my non-work time completely for the last two weeks... and I mean ALL non-work time!

I was driving around dropping off kids and running errands, and the songs playing on the radio would remind me of the characters and the events. I was reading "The Nightingale" with my students, and I felt like the Nightingale's way of speaking was very like Edward's. As I changed the date on the board and put up the day's assignments, I felt like the characters were watching over my shoulder. I tossed and turned at night, haunted my images and thoughts relating to the conflicts and struggles in the books. I thought about being a Democrat at the Republican Convention as shape-shifters versus vampires, and thinking of the opposite (I'm not clear about which I am) as smelly and repulsive. I was even watching The Jungle Book and thinking about Mowgli being raised by wolves... you get where I'm going here. It's incredible.

Several friends of mine were in an endless cycle of reading, going through the entire series 7 times in 7 weeks. I thought they were crazy. Now that I've finished the last one, I understand... I want to go back to the first one and read through their beginning again. Luckily, I left it in my classroom library. It'll allow me to do the dishes and the laundry and pay bills and scrapbook... and try reading something else.

I'm not certain I want to see the movie completely. I love my image of Edward (he's a hotty in my brain), and I'm not sure I'll willing to give it up, even if it is for Cedric Diggery. But, I also don't really have a clear image of Bella, so that might be helpful. I guess the best route is to simply read the saga again before the movie comes out, which would better burn Edward's face into my head before it's threatened.

Meant to be

2008-08-28T14:49:00.000-07:00

In the last few years, especially since Pete's been alive, I've been thinking about whether or not I should be a teacher. I wonder if being a stay-at-home mom would be more suited to my current situation. It would allow me time to get the house cleaned, organized, and repaired in ways we haven't been able to do since we moved in when I was 7 months pregnant. It would allow me to volunteer in my daughter's kindergarten classroom, keep Pete home a little more to do baby-n-Mama classes and playdates, and workout more to drop the baby pounds. It would allow me to - GASP! - do more than one scrapbooked page per week. It would allow me to shrug off all the stress that comes with the school year, which affects my reading, my friendships, my energy level, my sleep, and my sex life.

But, when I took this job, I promised myself I'd give it a try for at least 5 years. God forbid I turn into a statistic.

One of my colleagues, Paul Kilkenney, once told me that it took 8 years for him to feel like he was getting the hang of teaching, and over 10 to really feel like it was not a constant struggle. He also said, which I remind myself of weekly, that all good teachers ask themselves if they should be teaching. No amount of confidence in our ability can cover up the fact that what we do in the classroom on any one day could positively or negatively affect a student's life forever. Ripples and waves.

...

The last few nights, I have not slept well. Part of that has to do with the heat in the house. (Why we bought a house with A/C when my husband won't let me turn it on, I don't know!) Part has to do with my terrible fear that something small will bite me on the foot if I leave my feet out from under the covers. (Don't ask - a completely strange story, not related to...) And part of it is that I've been sucked into the Twilight series, by Stephanie Meyer.

Heap on top of that that my daughter started kindergarten this week, and I couldn't go to her first day because it was my first day to. Oh, and a get-together with someone who seemed to really want to be my best friend, but who blew me off so many times that I decided she wasn't worth the effort. A challenge structure at my favorite digi scrapping site that very few people are taking part in. And the lack of usual support staff at my school because of the Governator's 10% across the board cut backs state-wide.

Needless to say, the pissiness crept up on my yesterday afternoon. It was unleashed when the YMCA person at my daughter's after care program asked for my ID to pick her up. That's okay, but that's the first thing she said to me. No, "Hello, welcome to the YMCA after-care building. I'm so-n-so. Are you Claire's mom? Nice to meet you!" or anything like that. Just, "If you're picking up Claire, I'll need to see your ID." Obviously, Claire will not be learning social skills from this woman.

Then, the dinner with the former friend-to-be who kept trying to get personal with me, and I tried very hard not to say anything painful to her to spread the misery.

Then, on the way home from being out late with the playdate families, I tried to call my husband on his cell twice to ask him to start a bath and make a bottle, since the kids were both up late past their bedtimes. But, he's already gotten home, taken off his jeans (with the cell phone on vibrate in the pocket), put on his pajama pants (with no cell phone in the pocket), and gone to play Rock Band or watch TV or something.

Then, I fell asleep while trying to post to my digi site about the challenges and what to do about it, so I dragged myself to bed, only to be hot and uncomfortable and wide awake! So, I stayed up reading, went to bed around 11, was woken just as a I was drifting off to sleep by the baby, and then couldn't fall asleep again for a while.

This morning, I woke up late, Claire was getting sassy with me every time I asked her to do something for me, we're out of a ton of groceries but I have yet to shop so lunches were sucky, we left late, Joe decided to take a "short cut" to his train stop which wasn't short, and then I got to school only a few minutes late for my prep. EXCEPT, when I went to my trunk to get my bags, they weren't there.... they were back at home. So I drove all the way home to get them, and got back in enough time to discover that I couldn't login to the Read 180 software to set up my students for their tests today.

I warned my 3rd period students that I was pissy. Their eyes got big.

But once I started talking to them about word parts (auto-bio-graph-y) and brainstorming and writing and such, my bad mood lifted. Quickly. I almost felt it fly out of me, like in Ghost.

...

This is a long way of saying that I think I was meant to be a teacher in this environment. Don't get me wrong, a year or two off to deal with all the stuff above would be nice. And I'm not perfect by any means. But there are very few activities that I do that change my mood so well and so fast. Golly, I hope I remember that.

My Heritage

2008-07-07T13:56:00.000-07:00

inspired by "Heritage" by Linda Hogan, and the ISIers from '08:

From my father
  I've inherited my eyes -
  both their deep brown
  pools framed by long
  curling eyelashes
  as well as
  the way they see the world
  as an apple waiting
  to be picked from
  the tree of opportunity
  if only I climb high enough.

From my mother
  I've inherited my
  most and least
  favorite traits.
  I have trouble saying
  no
  when people want help
  but I'll say yes
  while swinging my
  big butt and
  wide birthing hips.

From my grandfather
  I've inherited
  my sense of humor,
  my ability to laugh
  'most anything off
  and my intense loyalty,
  or so I'm told... since
  he died
  years before I was born.

And from my grandmother,
  I've inherited
  my fertility,
  my comfort in a houseful of guests,
  a deep pride when I actually have time to
    clean my house
  and a book of family recipes
  for Lebanese food which
  lacks exact measurements
  and relies heavily on
  whim and the tongue's memory.

From my family, I've learned
  stories are there if you ask,
  memory fails but impressions remain,
  and
  growing beyond older generations'
    philosophies and habits is possible,
  but you'll still want to
    return home no matter
    how enlightened you feel.

(shitty first draft written 5/31/08)

VENT: best-laid plans

2008-05-13T13:46:00.001-07:00

I know this is small beans in comparison to what some of you are going through, but I have to put it down somewhere. Forgive me.

We had a nice Mother's Day weekend. DH did quite a few chores, cooked for me most of Sunday, and I spent most of the day either in pajamas (yay!) or weeding (yay!).

Monday, I go to school. DH calls me around 3 and asks me if I'm feeling queasy, since he is. He wondered if it was food poisoning from the BBQ for dinner last night. I tell him I'm fine. I confirm that I have yet to hear from the kids' daycare. I got to Target to buy some gag gifts for a party at lunch for Tuesday. While in Target (and without my phone), DD's preschool calls to say she's thrown up twice and would I please come get her. Almost an hour later, when I get the call, I pick up DS (whose daycare closes earlier) and then get DD. DH says he's still queasy, but he can't stay home with DD on Tuesday because he has a big morning meeting he's running and another internation conference call in the afternoon. So we agree I'll stay home with DD - I get a sub, type up sub plans, everything's fine. DD and I even think about what we're going to do while home together: cuddle and watch a movie, read some books, maybe cut and glue stuff, work on an activity book or two, get some rest.

Tuesday morning (today) - We drop DS off at his daycare, DH off at the train, DD and I go into my classroom to get it ready for the sub; I also eat a granola bar here. We leave. We're two blocks from home when DS's daycare calls and says he's thrown up, too. So we drive past home to pick him up. We all get home and DD has 2 minutes to watch Handy Manny before I realize DS has little dots on his face, I call his doctor's office, and we're back in the car. turns out they're burst blood vessels, and it might be a sign of an infection, so off we go to the hospital to get blood drawn. Even though DS was born at the hospital, he has no record on file, and the woman refuses to create a new file in the computer for him, so she calls over to births and waits 10 minutes for something to be faxed. In the meantime, DD is constantly getting into DS's face, but I'm trying to keep them separate because I don't know if they have the same thing or not... and DS has started crying because he's effectively not had anything to eat in 4+ hours and is now solidly into his second naptim of the day, although he hasn't had a nap at all yet. Finally, the phlabotomist (sp?) calls us in and DS cries and cries, his vessels roll and they have to stick him twice to get a good sample.

We drive home, DS crying the whole time... until 3 minutes before we pull in, when he falls dead asleep. The mere opening of the minivan door wakes him, but I calm him down and put him back in the crib for a nap. He wakes up every 10 minutes to cry for 5 and then return to quiet/sleep for another 10 minutes. This goes on for about an hour and a half (my DD has watched another Handy Manny, eaten a piece of toast, had some water, and gone down for her nap by this time). I grab another piece of toast for myself and remember the amazing amount of homemade Mexican food I was going to have at that party at lunch and sigh. I decide I'm too tired to do anything and crawl into bed myself, when DH calls me to tell me he's 30 minutes away on the train... can I come get him? I tell him, no, I can't. He says he'll take a cab home, but he'll need to be on that conference call from 4-6. His trip home is completely unbidden and, frankly, useless to me, but he feels like he's helping and I'm trying not to be crabby and ungracious on the phone.

After I hang up the phone, I hear DS, still crying in his crib, so I go pick him up adn try to nurse him (but I'm dehydrated) and cuddle him (but he doesn't want to). Now I'm in the living room both frustrated that DS is awake and proud that he's FINALLY! crawling at 10.5mo. Oh, and the doctor just called and said his labs are fine - just a little viral infection. We'll have to let it run its course. Excellent.

Okay. I'm done. What a terrible day. Teaching 60 resistant freshmen high school English is more fun than today.

32

2008-01-26T12:51:00.000-08:00

A layout I did for a blog challenge last night. I really like this one.

Small success

2007-08-26T22:25:00.000-07:00

So, I've been itchy, a bit, about my scrapbooking lately. Wanted to do something more out in public (besides posting to all the boards), so I submitted a few things. I was really excited about the pages I sent in for the baby book, but none were accepted, I think. (I'm not sure; I thought they'd be calling about acceptance, but I never got a call. Then I found out they were sending emails, and I've been pretty aggressive about my spam folder lately, so I might have deleted it. O'ell.)

But I was accepted to the creative team. (scroll to the bottom) I'm only a guest, which lasts two months, but it's still really exciting. It'll expose me to a new designer, a new group of critics and instructors, and it'll motivate me to do more scrapbooking, which is always a good thing. Course, it's at the beginning of the school year, which is tough, but I think I'll be able to handle it. One layout a week is totally possible, considering I'll be doing one layout every two days for most of September with my class.

Wish me luck keeping my head above water.

Headfirst

2007-08-15T22:35:00.000-07:00

So, I decided to submit four layouts for a page call for a book about scrapbooking baby photos. I also applied to join a creative team for a digital scrapbooking designer. Am I crazy, or just bold?

Either way, we'll know on Friday - the deadlines for both opportunities are this Friday.

Selfish

2007-08-14T22:17:00.000-07:00

When we moved into the new place, we were wary of our neighbors.

As you may know, in the condo, our neighbors rocked. The people directly next door to us, a wonderful and funny lesbian couple, became exactly what you want neighbors to be: we had dinner at each other's houses when we weren't eating out together, we borrowed sugar or milk, we housesat/birdsat/babysat for each other, we recommended and lent or borrowed books from each other. And most importantly, we were enablers to each other's chocolate cravings. I knew when there was a knock on our door at 10:30pm, it was probably one of them asking if I had any cookies, brownies, ice cream, or candy; I did the same to them fairly frequently.

And those were just the neighbors next door. The woman below us was never around, so I rarely felt badly about my daughter jumping up and down all hours of the morning and evening. If it bothered her, she never complained. The people in the next building over, on the second floor like us, were also amazing. One condo is occupied by a single woman who is always traveling (which sucks), but when she's able to join us, she's funny, interesting, and tells a great story. The other one, next to her, houses a single mom and her son, both of whom are in my mothers' group (thanks to me). The mom is a total go-getter, and I can't imagine someone who seems more put-together: she doesn't have family here, she works more than 40 hours per week at her regular job, she's starting a business on the side, and she is a very loving mother. People think I have a lot of balls in the air, but I have my husband to lean on; she doesn't even have that much help.

Every so often, my next door neighbors, and the people on the second floor in the building across from us would get together: a potluck dinner, a party, a trip to the farmers' market, whatever. It was rarely planned more than 24 hours ahead of time, but it was always memorable. I think that's the one thing I miss most about being in this new place, and I know it's what Claire misses most.

So you can imagine that the bar was set pretty high for neighborly relationships when we moved. It looked promising, though, when one next door neighbor came over while we were unloading the moving van to introduce himself and offer help. (Joe turned it down, but you never see that kind of friendliness around here anymore.) Later, the man's wife came over and introduced herself. Even later, we learned that they have 4 kids, ages 11 and under, including a little girl who is less than a year older than Claire. The man and his wife are probably just a little older than us, which made things easier. The man is a minister in a local non-denominational church, and his wife is active in the community, too. Joe was wary about living next to a minister, but he's not like that at all: he's friendly, funny, and physically active - he takes his youth ministry group on camping and boating trips as well as weekly AirSoft battles.

The family invited us over for s'mores in their front yard (with one of those fireplace-like firepits) over Memorial Weekend, and we spent at least an hour sitting around talking with the kids and parents alike, and then Claire spent some time chasing the kids up and down our side of the block before going inside to watch a Disney movie with them. Turns out the family goes camping pretty regularly, which is cool, because we'd love to have another family to camp with (or at least motivate us to camp more on our own). And the mom does stamping, mostly cards (not scrapbooking, but still a crafty buddie right next door)! But then, I was finishing out my remaining weeks of pregnancy, and then adjusting to having another baby, and hosting all the visiting people, and we didn't get much of a chance to touch base with them.

Last week, when my MIL drove to the wrong VTA stop to pick up my husband, and didn't take her cell phone, the man next door was kind enough to drive to the VTA stop she was at with her cell phone, so we could get her to the right one to pick up Joe. Off and on, we've been bringing the garbage cans in for each other. They both said they were looking forward to helping me with the baby in any way they could the night we were eating s'mores. On Friday, the little girl brought over a baby doll for Claire (part of a two-pack Mom had bought at the store), and Claire and she rode bikes together for almost an hour on Saturday.

Do you see where this is all leading, based on the title?

Today, I wanted to go over and chat with the woman about her trip to a winery on Saturday, but I just didn't seem to have the time. I bumped into her this evening, on the way to pick up Joe, and she said that she and her husband will be moving to a nearby suburb... and the move will probably be done in a week and a half, just in time for school to start for the kids. They decided on Sunday night, and found a place yesterday that's available immediately.

Honestly, I was blown away.

And I feel very badly that the first thing I thought of was, "Bummer, they're moving away." I know I should have thought, "Wow! Good for them! Moving to a nicer part of the area with better school systems!"

I mentioned the news to Joe this evening and he had the same reaction: "Bummer, it seemed like we were just getting to know them" before "Wow, good for them!"

What I'm wondering now is if these few encounters with the family are enough to keep in touch with them, to develop our friendship with the parents, and Claire's friendship with the little girl. Would this have been mostly a friendship only encouraged by proximity? And, then, if not, how do you approach someone you're just getting to know (who will be busy meeting new neighbors and new parents of new kids at a new school), and say, "Hey, keep in touch." It's a little weird, don't you think?

So now I'm being very selfish. I don't want them to move!! Wah.

Not-a-goal

2007-08-12T13:09:00.000-07:00

I have always been interested in scrapbooking to remember things. I have a huge fear of Alzheimer's or dying too soon, and not being able to tell my kids what they were like, or who the people are in these pictures. My mom has a ton of photos in the attic that I just want to sit down with and ask about, but I have yet to do that, too. And I imagine she would love to do it.

I want to pass on these books to my kids, and then to their kids, and etc. If they turn out being helpful to my great grandkid when he has to do a report on his family, that would be cool.

But lately I've gotten the publishing bite. Being more immersed in the various scrapbooking communities online has allowed me to learn about more page calls, and then read what other people say about preparing for them, and then celebrate those that were published and commiserate with those who don't make it.

There's currently two page calls for pages that I either have done or have been thinking about doing (in my head) for weeks. I'm making these page calls me the kick in the butt to get the pages done sooner, which is good. But? Should I send them in and see what happens? How cool would that be, to see my pages in a magazine? And get paid for it? Or get a free copy of a book I would have bought even if I wasn't published in it?

But then I go back to my mantra: I scrapbook for me and my family. I scrapbook for me and my family.

Then I get confused. Can I scrapbook for me and my family AND send in submissions in response to page calls?

Little things

2007-08-11T22:32:00.000-07:00

Man, I love it when he smiles.

Pathetic

2007-05-29T20:51:00.000-07:00

I've been so busy with lesson planning (and trying new things!), the pregnancy, the move and unpacking, and Claire... and it took my sister-in-law to send us a card in the mail to remind me -- and Joe! -- that our anniversary is this weekend.

Worst Mom in the World?

2007-03-29T19:54:00.000-07:00

Tuesday morning, around 1:30, my daughter woke up screaming and crying. Joe, being the kind man that he is, ran to see what was going on. Normally, when she does this, it's a terrible dream, so one of us calms her down while we rub her back, and she goes back to sleep. This time, it was
because her stomach felt yucky.

Let me backup. Since I've been pregnant, Claire has adopted any ailment that I or Joe have gotten. If my back hurts, her back hurts. If my stomach is hungry, hers is too. If Joe's knees hurt from moving, hers are aching. She's kind of become the boy who cried wolf in our world when it comes to her various ailments. Honestly? Aside from a few colds, pinkeye, and an ear infection once, she has been the healthiest kid I've ever known.

So when she told me her stomach hurt on the way to dinner out on Monday night, I offered her the bathroom, but then didn't believe her. When she told us she didn't want to eat her hotdog, but was totally fine to drink her 1/2 of a strawberry shake, I thought it was about par for the course. When we stopped at the coffee house on the way home to get drinks for the neighbors and she said (on our way out) that she had to go potty - all of a sudden, which is unlike her - I asked her to hold it for the three-block drive. When she cried all the way up the stairs because she was afraid of pooping in her pants, Joe told her to run while I unpacked the car. Poor kid even stopped in the entryway to take off her shoes before we walked up the newly-carpeted stairs.

Thankfully, she made it. Without going into too many details, the poop was liquid and it stank up the bathroom. Joe and I knew we had something weird on our hands then. She cried a little post-toilet, saying her stomach hurt, but she wasn't running a fever and we gave her some water. We figured, if she's got diarrhea, she's gonna need it. She went right to sleep.

So when Claire woke up Tuesday morning around 1:30 crying, we were both still in a tired stupor and had forgotten all the evening's events and potential knowledge... until Claire threw up. It was the first time she'd ever thrown up, if I don't count the usual baby spit-ups she had before she was 6 months old. Joe ministered to her needs in the bathroom while I took a look at the new carpet, now pink. Although we no longer had carpet cleaner (we'd packed it; how stupid was that?!), it was an easy clean-up with some laundry detergent, Claire got changed into new pjs, got a little more water, and went to sleep. When I kissed her goodnight, her forehead felt warm, but not hot.

Since I was starting to feel queasy and warm too (albeit possibly from cleaning up the mess), I was mostly okay staying home with her, so I called the sub service. However, I spent the next 3 hours trying to plan out something for my 2-hour class to do that was not teacher dependent, and something else for my 2 English 1 classes to do instead of present their research posters. While I was up previewing some of Def Poetry's season one episodes, Claire came downstairs twice because her tummy hurt and she wanted some comfort. I eventually gave her some kid's Tylenol, rubbed her back some, and she slept well. I told her not to get up when the sun comes up, since she wouldn't be going to sleep. I told her her body needed sleep to feel better and she should just turn away from the sun and get more sleep instead of getting up early. She said that sounded good to her. I turned in around 5:00.

I'd planned to get up again when Joe's alarm went off at 6 to drive into school, drop off my lessons and the DVD, and get home in time for Joe to leave on foot for the VTA stop so he could get to the train station on his own. Unfortunately, I didn't turn out getting out of bed until 6:15, didn't leave the house until 6:30, and didn't get home until 7:20, ten minutes late. So, we turned out waking her up at 7:30 anyway, even though she cried and wanted to sleep more, so we could drive Joe to the train station. I felt terrible, but everything went smoothly. Claire and I came home okay, I carried her up the stairs in my 6-months pregnant condition (since Joe didn't put any shoes or socks on her when he woke her), and she got settled on the couch.

I got her some water and her favorite blanket, she watched Shrek, and she seemed totally fine. She ate some mostly-dry toast and kept it down with no problem for two hours. So when, around 10:30, she said she wanted bacon and eggs, I thought it was worth a try. Sure enough, she kept them down fine, although she was a little weepy.

When she's weepy, we normally say it's either naptime or "quiet time," which is still time in bed, but with books to look through. Of course, our goal is still naptime, but it doesn't always happen. She agreed to quiet time, so I set her up in bed with five books, a few stuffed animals, a glass of water near her bed. We talked about the quiet time rules: no getting out of bed except to go to the bathroom, no pulling out any other toys except the books and stuffed animals she'd already picked, no loud singing or banging, and quiet time's not over until I come get her. She agreed to an hour of "quiet time."

By this time, I'd already dozed off a little during the movie, so I crawled into bed and read aroun 11. Before long, I was asleep. I woke up around 12:45 and felt terrible about keeping her in quiet time longer than she'd agreed. I tiptoed over to her room, slowly opened the door, and she was completely asleep. I felt pleased, crawled back into my own bed, and went back to sleep. We both woke up around 3:45 when we had to go to the bathroom.

I knew I needed the extra sleep - between long hours of planning at work, the pregnancy, and coming off my night of little sleep - but Claire long nap only solidified the feeling that she was really sick. Joe and I had been tossing back ideas about food poisoning from the restaurant or something, but discounted it based on the long nap and the quickness with which the food had to have gone through her.

By dinner time, she was prancing and feeling good, had held down some pretty complex foods, and ate a full meal of pasta with tomato sauce, olives, and sausage. Joe commented on how much she was smiling and happy, and we both agreed that with her keeping her food down and no fever to speak of, she'd be okay going to school on Wednesday.

Wednesday passed with no problem at school. She ate well, she played well, she got a good nap. I thought about taking her to the playgroup, but something in the back of my head said that was a bad idea. We stayed home, dug out our scrapbooking stuff, and got some work done. She ate well at dinner... and then had some seriously off-color diarrhea before bedtime. I was a bit worried, but shrugged it off: it's just working through her system. She's eating well, right?

This brings us to today. This morning was business as usual. She woke up fine, cried about having to put her clothes on herself, perked up at the opportunity to pick her own breakfast, and skipped into pre-school when we dropped her off. I heard nothing all day from the school and had no reason to think otherwise.

Picked her up in the afternoon after my OB appointment, and she was walking funny. The teacher said Claire had just had an accident, but they were going in from the playground anyway. I took Claire in to get cleaned up, only to find the "accident" (no something Claire really has anymore) was super-loose diarrhea. Lovely. I cleaned her up, changed her, and started worrying a little. She said she was fine. On our way out, the teacher mentioned that Claire said before lunch that her stomach hurt, but she'd seem no symptoms. I'd, of course, seen symptoms by now but didn't say anything. I asked Claire if she wanted to go to the library, she said yes, so we started driving over.

I was really hungry, though, so I wanted to stop at Starbuck's. They have some great oatmeal cookies in the afternoon, and I was hankering for one. We stopped at the Blendz nextdoor first, to get a fruit smoothie for Claire, and she was bouncing from wall to wall full of energy and stories about when she and Joe and her buddy and his dad went to Blendz this past weekend. You never would have thought she was sick. She got her berry smoothie, we walked nextdoor and got my drink and oatmeal cookie, and walked out the back door toward the library. I asked her if she'd be okay walking to the library, about one block, instead of driving, and she said it was a "bootiful day, so let's walk." Great!

She started lagging behind as we crossed the street, so I turned around to tell her to hustle, but she started crying. Once she got across the street, she vomited up the part of the berry smoothie she'd had so far plus some other stuff on the sidewalk. I was surprised to say the least, but I can still hear the burp that preceded that outpouring. I gave her a hug, reassured her it was no big deal, and we crossed the street again to clean up back at Starbuck's. A kind woman sitting near the door got us some napkins and a glass of water, and I did my best. As I went in to throw everything away, Claire stayed outside and seemed much happier.

We walked back to the car. She was upset about missing the library, but I explained to her that sick little girls shouldn't be going to the library. Once at the car, she said her stomach hurt again, cried and screamed some more. I told her to get into the car, and then get into the carseat, so we could get home. She didn't have time to get into the carseat before she threw up again... all over the carseat, my purse, and her clothes again. At this point, Joe called on my cellphone, and I just didn't care, so I didn't answer it.

With the carseat a mess and not a single thing to clean it up in the car, I told her to lay down in the back part of the minivan (which happened to be already collapsed from moving) and we drove very slowly back home, 5 blocks total. She was afraid of throwing up in the car again, so I gave her my zip-down sweatshirt as a pillow to also throw up in, since I used it a few times while I was pregnant with her to do just that. She shouldn't have been worried, though, because she seemed fine all the way home. As a matter of fact, I had to shut her up because she was talking happily about all the neat things she could see from her unusual point of view, and not acting like a sick little girl at all. It was pissing me off.

We got home, and she announced right away that she had to go potty, so we ran upstairs and took car of that. Not a nice smell. She got dressed in pjs, rinsed out her mouth, and found a good animal to cuddle with. I told her I'd set her up on the couch in a "special cocoon," which was really just her rainbow blanket on the cushions, so if she puked again it would get on the blanket and not the couch. However, before she could climb up into the cocoon, she puked again. Let's just say at this point, I could have named everything she'd eaten since I'd seen her this morning. I cleaned up the rainbow blanket, which had done its job, we laid out a blanket on the floor instead, I put on a show for her to watch, and I called Joe first.

Turns out Joe had called because his deliverable is due tomorrow and he'd decided to stay on late to get some work done. Forgot the fact that I was supposed to go out "with the girls" tonight... a night I'd been looking forward to for over 2 weeks. Obviously, since they were a bunch of moms, including one that is 9 months pregnant, there was no way I could have gone in good conscious and spread the germs, but being home on time would have been more helpful under the new circumstances. He didn't know, felt bad, said he'd try to get his work done quicker so he could stay home with Claire tomorrow.

In the meantime, I called the doctor. The advice nurse called me back, we talked about the history you've already read/scanned through, and she said give Claire Pedialite, then some crackers, then dry toast, then dry cereal, then some bananas or applesauce, working our way back into protein and finally dairy products last. Okay, Pedialite - which I don't have. Not just water? No, the advice nurse said, something with extra electrolites is what Claire needs.

Great. Running out to the store only brought up images of the still-nasty carseat and floor and purse.... and no husband home to clean it or run the errand himself. So I imposed on our nextdoor neighbor (again), who turned out to be sick herself, to come over and sit with Claire while she watched TV and I cleaned the car up. Terry came over - she's an angel, did I mention that? - and sat with Claire while I cleaned the vomit up and dry-heaved myself. I got to the point where the seat was okay, the floor was okay, my purse was passable, but I could deal with the car seat anymore. I gave up, chickened out, moved it into the garage, and came upstairs. Threw the rags and dirty clothes into the washer, relieved Terry, and got Claire some water.

Of course, Claire was feeling better (after throwing up 3 times in 45 minutes, I might too), and was squirming around on the floor. She tipped over her water, and I snapped at her for making a mess. I felt terrible. She's only acting out the way she's feeling; she's not wallowing in her sickness, like most adults do. I should be relieved she feels better. But, no, I snapped at her for spilling water, something that's easy to clean up, even on a new carpet like ours. I apologized, of course, and she said she forgave me, and we watched the rest of her show.

Once the show was done, I was again faced with the fact that she was supposed to have Pedialite and crackers before bedtime. So, after another quick potty run, we got our shoes on, I told her to lie down in the back of the minivan again (since I hadn't cleaned the carseat yet and Joe had taken the booster seat to the storage unit which closes at 5) and we drove to the drug store. I picked up three bottles of Pedialite in various flavors, a box of crackers, and some carpet cleaner. While walking the aisles for crackers, Claire dropped one of the bottles of Pedialite twice, and I snapped at her both times. Obviously, I'm feeling the stress, and what a bitch I am for taking it out on my sick kid who is carrying a bottle that is just a tad bit too heavy for her. Eventually, I found the crackers, we traded loads, and walked to the checkout.

At the checkout she wanted to touch everything - the Easter candy, the stuffed animals, the counter - and I kept snapping at her to NOT - TOUCH - ANYTHING. She took it in stride. She started playing with her pj shorts, pulling them up to her hips, only to show that not-underwear-covered butt underneath; when I noticed the man behind us in line checking her butt out, I snapped at her to put her shorts down. Then I snapped at her for not following me out the door when the transaction was done.

I felt like crap while I got her to lay down in the back of the car again. Here I am - putting my kid in serious danger - and my last words to her will be "DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING." All the way home, I was torn between driving fast to get home sooner and images of my minivan being rear-ended and my sick daughter dying in the crash. Just as I turned onto a main street, Claire piped up from the back, "Mommy, you're a nice mommy," completely out of left field. I thanked her for the compliment, and told her I didn't deserve it. But we chatted more happily and I drove more slowly for the few remaining blocks.

The present: Claire's upstairs in bed, but not asleep. She had a dinner tonight that consisted of a Saltine (eaten too fast, despite my requests, as is her way) and four small sips of Pedialite. She doesn't like the unflavored version, but I told her she had to drink it all before she could have the flavored stuff. Of course, this is not the time to be picky; she doesn't like the unflavored kind, so she's not drinking it. But maybe this is a blessing in disguise, as she's drinking the unflavored one slowly, which is per the nurse's orders.

She did get up once, about 20 minutes ago, because she couldn't find Care Bear under her covers. She came downstairs to tell me, so I got up to help her, something I wouldn't have done if she were healthy. Halfway up the stairs, she started crying again, about how she had to cough, so I picked her up (OUCH!), carried her up the rest of the stairs, and she "coughed" into the toliet... the Pedialite and the one Saltine.

All I can say is Thank God Joe is staying home with her tomorrow. And bummer I'm missing games night. I've had enough lonely-type stress for tonight.

Radar

2007-03-06T16:19:00.000-08:00

I have felt yucky most of the day, and I didn't feel so hot last night either. Aside from ym students, I didn't tell anyone, though - it seems like whining, you know?

However, two of my favorite people on staff stopped by today to chat me up for a few minutes. They got me to laugh, to get my mind off my crappy mood, and get back to doing some work... for a while anyway. Total radar.

Feast to famine in a few short months

2006-12-28T15:21:00.001-08:00

I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty happy with the place I'm living in, from a scrapbooking standpoint. When I moved here 6.5 years ago, I had been going to a stamping store in MI and the small scrapbook aisle at Michael's for my scrapbooking needs. Made an entire 100+ page scrapbook for my 3-month trip to UK with those few supplies. (Probably very few of them are acid-free, though, and I should be scanning them soon - I know.)

When I moved out west, there was one scrapbook store next to the place I worked, and nothing else except Michael's and JoAnn's for 10+ miles (or nothing I could find in the phone book, anyway). Within 2 years, four more SB stores had popped up within 5 miles of me AND Michael's and JoAnn's had expanded their SB aisles AND Target developed an SB area too. There's even 2 SB Expos that come within 35 miles of me. I was in SB supply heaven!

About 4 years ago, I discovered a SB store down the street from me with a weird name that never would have clued me in that it was SB supply. It was an average place, but it seemed to carry a lot of old supplies and not update with the latest stuff I was seeing in MM. Within 4 months of me finding it, it closed, and some people told me it was open for less than a year. Ditto with the stamping store in my little downtown area; they closed after only a few months and moved to website-only, and then they shut that down too. I still had my main four, not to mention the bigger chains, so no biggie.

A few months ago, one of the stores near me (one I didn't visit often because it was further away than others) closed their doors. This is the place everyone went for those hard-to-find basic supplies, and sometimes for the really cool, really trendy papers. That store also had Friday night crops that lasted until 2am... or later, depending on how the store employee felt at 2. They had a loyal following, and they were situated in an area with a lot of upper-middle class and upper class homes and people who could work from home or still stay at home... many with expendable income to support something like SB. I was shocked it was closing, but not surprised, since there were so many stores in the area competing. I didn't have a second thought about it.

This morning, I just found out that one of my 2 main SB haunts is closing early next month. I can't explain how this has affected my head today. I know the owners and talk to them socially whenever I'm in. I started going there alone 2.5 years ago for crops just to get work done and feed my social need... and then started taking my friends. One night, there were 8 of us there, and he had such a great time! They always have these cool little embellishments and trendy papers that I've never seen anywhere else. They usually book their 25 seats for Friday night crops every week. Again, it's on the border of a upper-class area with SAHM/Ds and tons of expendable income... and I can't believe they're closing. I feel like the guy I lost my virginity to is dumping me because he's gay. "No, no, it's not you; it's me."

This is compounded by my other main SB haunt cutting back their Friday night crops to no more that 2x per week and introduce more gift wrap and stationary, while crowding out some of the truly good, cute, and unique SB supplies. When they started doing that at the beginning of December, I thought, "Eh, it's only for the holidays and I can always go to the other place." But now my other place won't be there!

There is an upside: I'm on vacation this week and they're have a 30% off sale beginning tomorrow. You bet I'll be there when the doors open. But, with mixed feelings: it's like being dumped by the gay guy you lost your virginity to... and then paying him for sex anyway. "Okay, fine, it's you. But maybe we can both walk away from this happily."

Wants and pressures

2006-12-03T21:11:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling the pressure of posting something interesting, brilliant, even tittilating for my 100th post. This has been more pressure than posting something important on my one-year anniversary, which passed a few weeks back. However, for want of something better, I'm going to tell y'all the same story I've been repeating to everyone about my clever child.

So, her birthday was a few days ago. The day before her birthday, we told the kid, "Make sure you tell everyone it's your last day being 2.5." She said okay, we dropped her off at preschool, and went on to work.

My husband picked her up from school, and I met up with them before dinner. As she was playing, I asked her, "Did you tell everyone today was your last day being 2.5?"

"Um, no, I forgot really," she said, with a sway of her head.

"That's okay. You can tell everyone tomorrow that you're 3 instead."

"No, 3.5!" she insisted.

"Honey, you're not going to be 3.5, you're going to be 3. You were 1, then 1.5, 2, then 2.5, 3, and then 3.5. You'll be 3.5 in the summer."

"But I don't want to be 3. I want to be 3.5," she begins to whine.

"First you have to be 3. You'll be 3 tomorrow."

She paused for a moment, tilted her head, and gave me her best teen angst look while saying, "Mommy, that's not what I was going for."

An addendum: Since then, she's decided she's 5, not 3 or 3.5, and has actuall thrown a tantrum, in the hopes that we'll "cave" and let her be 5. This, coming from the kid who told everyone for months she was getting a bike for her birthday. When Joe explained she wasn't getting one until the summer, she said, "Okay," and then walked off to play.

Have you ever noticed...

2006-11-20T15:33:00.000-08:00

... that no matter how organized and motivated you are the finish grading, you hit this "critical mass" moment when you need a serious break... and then ANYTHING will do? I just spent 20 minutes eating clementines and browsing iTunes for absolutely nothing in particular. But I needed a break.

Grading period ends in two days and I'm determined to take almost nothing home over the long weekend. I consider it worth my while right now to stay up late the next few nights getting tests, homework, and writing assignments graded so I don't have to feel their shadow over my break. My husband's gonna kill me when he finds out.

You see, I've been trying to live more healthy, and I'm pulling hubby along. We've been putting more fresh foods - especially fruits and veggies - into our diets and I've all but cut out juices and pops. I've drawn up a schedule of exercise for myself, and we've both been trying to get chores done early in the day/evening so we can relax together and then get some sleep. The NetHack tournament has been cutting into hubby's sleep some, but he's getting better.

It's hard at this time of year to not put the kid to bed and just plop down on the couch. I mean, it's cold outside, so who really wants to ride a bike around the block or rollerblade? Not me, under most circumstances. And the all shows are in sweeps. And then all these movies are being released for the holidays. And I could catch up on reading and replying to email.

I'm amazed that my daughter doesn't feel the pull. I'm jealous too. But then, she has been telling everyone who'll listen, "I'm very very tired," even when she's not showing any signs of it.

Idol (not idle) worship

2006-11-02T22:46:00.000-08:00

I'm currently at the CRA conference in Sacramento. I came here with two of my co-workers, the head librarian and the SpedEd Department Chair, both women I like personally and professionally.

We got in late last night, and the librarian (who'd driven the whole way) turned in right away. The SpEd person and I went to the hotel restaurant for dinner before the kitchen closed. On the ride up, we'd talked about a lot of things, but especially about my excitement of going to a workshop given by Dr. Kate Kinsella, an educator, speaker, and researcher that I highly respect. She is number three on my list of people I want to grow up to become, just below Joyce Dyer and Donna Sheridan.

So, Mimi (the SpEd woman) and I are looking at our menus, and I look over her left shoulder, only to see Kate Kinsella at the next table, talking to some people. I totally felt like I was in high school. "Psst. Mimi. Kate Kinsella's sitting behind you." Mimi slowly looked over her shoulder long enough to see Dr. Kinsella, and then whipped her head back to front and nearly squealed! Our heart rates imemediately went up a bit, and we turned into two schoolgirls back stage at the concert of the latest boy band... except Kinsella will change the education world much more than any boy band has changed the musical climate in this country. Mimi did this great, "Ms. Kinsella? Will you sign my menu?" kind of mimic, but we both knew neither of us would ever have the guts to do that... to just go up to Kate Kinsella and introduce ourselves. I mean, this is KATE KINSELLA! Ha! We went on to talk about what she must do when she's traveling (does she get to talk about something besides pedagogy?) and proposed creating a t-shirt with her head and the conference logo on the front to commemorate the event of SITTING NEAR Dr. Kate. Ha! (Did I mention we were tired?)

This morning, I showed to my all-day session with her late a few minutes because the keynote let out late. The convention liaison for the session pointed me toward the front because I had my laptop and wanted power, so I could take notes the whole 8 hours. Since the plug was under her table, Dr. Kate asked that I not disrupt the session by doing so, and I complied. I took notes on the outside of an envelope.

However, the session (both the morning and afternoon part) were wonderful. Some people were seriously overwhelmed with all her information, but Kinsella even admitted that the workshop she was giving was typically 2 days. She explained, "I feel like I'm giving you just enough information to make you dangerous." Many of the techniques she went over were similar or exactly strategies that Read 180 uses, but that's not coincidence, since she's one of the authors on the program. But, consequently, I already knew some of the strategies and was not as overwhelmed, I think.

Since I'm teaching roots from a book suggested by the district, and I don't like the way they present the roots, I asked her about teaching roots. She'd mentioned earlier in the session about teaching high-frequency prefixes and suffixes, but not roots. It turns out she feels affixes are more important. Once the students master those and how to use the information, then you can teach the roots, "but, you know, only the really important ones." I gave the example of "bene-" as one I thought was important. She challenged me to name some words that use the root, so I mentioned benefit, beneficial, benefactor, and she asked me when the next time my students would be using those words in my class. I admitted I didn't know. Her point, which she was reiterating from earlier in the day, was that teaching word families (assume, assumption, etc.) of common academic words was more helpful and useful to the students.

I saw her point, and I agree mostly. My issue is that she never gave an example of a root that was "important," so I felt there was no closure. However, in my teaching of roots (and even basic syntax), I'm finding that students don't know how affixes change the meaning and usage of words, and that's something much more manageable (and "useful," as Dr. Kate said)... rather than archane words from the roots workbook like "pusillanimous" (root, anim = life, mind, soul, feeling). I had never seen or heard that word before it showed in the roots workbook. I didn't know how to say it or what it meant, even with my knowledge of roots and affixes. However, I know now, and I think I might use it in my band's name when my husband gets Guitar Hero II.

After the session, which she dismissed early because she had to catch a plane, I waited for the crowd to clear. I asked her if she wanted help taking her stuff to the hotel, and she accepted my offer. We walked through the conference hotel, down the block in the rain, to the hotel we were both staying at, so she could get her car and checked luggage. We talked about the program I'm teaching that she authored, the people she's gotten to meet in her travels, and how lazy or misguided some people can be in their instructional strategies. It was a cool talk. I dismissed myself before her car came, so I could go upstairs and dump some stuff in my room before meeting my co-workers in the exhibit hall. I still feel like I carried the rock star's guitar or something. I only hope that my teaching will be informed by my experiences today, especially those relating to language acquisition.

I'm dreading going back to my classroom Monday with these new strategies that Kate Kinsella has given to me... everything I planned before will seem so shabby and weak. It's like getting used to Madame Forestier's mirrored closets and pretty jewelry, only to return to the beat up couches in Madame and Monsieur Loisel's home.

--

On a side note, is it kismet that the Sacramento Convention Center, which is across the street from my hotel, is hosting the CRA conference and Scrapbook Expo in the same weekend? I didn't even know... I swear. I've been deleting their emails for months because - honestly? - why should I drive to Sacramento in the fall when the Expo will come to my neighborhood in February?

In order to work through the temptation of going and spending money, I called the woman I crop with most Fridays, Rosetta. I was breathing shallowly as I told her about the coincidence, as if I was an Narcotics Anonymous member calling my sponsor. You know what my "sponsor" said? Essentially, "go to the crack house, enjoy yourself, and bring me some back too."

I'm left wondering, though... did I call her because I wanted her to help me be strong? Or did I call her because I knew she'd be jealous and would encourage me to go?

I knew it...

2006-10-21T21:23:00.000-07:00

HowManyOfMe.com

There is:
1
person with my name
in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

Critical thinking... at a premium

2006-10-17T23:08:00.000-07:00

I've heard people rail about students and their lack of critical thinking. I've seen it a bit first hand, but nothing too serious. Here or there a kid, nothing massive. This is still true, but I've had some incidents today. Must share now.

1) A clever freshmen in my class today was finishing a basic sentence structure review worksheet. He's one of the kids in the class who knows his stuff with this, but he wanted to get the work done so he wouldn't have homework and could talk for the remaining few minutes of class. I caught him taking another student's completed worksheet, I assume with the plan of copying. I returned the worksheet to the owner and warned student-in-question that he should not copy. I told him it was okay to ask classmates for help, since that is a verbal communication and does require some thinking, but mindless copying is not a good idea. I came back a few minutes later, and he was copying again... from another student's paper. I returned the paper to the owner, took his, and ripped it up. I felt bad that it was extreme, but I wanted to be really clear about the copying issue. I gave him a new one and reminded him of the due date, just in time for the bell to ring and end class.

Now, I'm not upset as much about the copying issue, although that is an issue. My frustration comes from how idiotic this student is. I mean, okay, fine, you want to copy. Ask some student for his worksheet, pack up both in the binder, and copy next period, when no one will be noticing! I don't want to teach him sentence structure AND copying, but the thought crossed my mind.

2) My students finished reading "The Most Dangerous Game" last week. I'm grading their workbooks for the grading period. One student - quiet, but studious, attentive, high effort, good grade - had some good comments in the margin of the workbooks about the story and I was impressed. The last question in the workbook says something like, "What do you think happened to Rainsford and Zaroff at the end of the story?" Although the story isn't totally hit-you-over-the-head obvious, but Zaroff sets it up by stating that in a head-to-head, one man will feed the dogs and the other will sleep in the bed. The story ends by saying that Rainsford slept in the bed. Therefore, if Rainsford slept in the bed, Zaroff fed the dogs with his body. Right?

Well, this student wrote that he thought the guys became best friends and stayed on the island to hunt together. SIGH! Really? Are you sure, student?

Ooops...

2006-10-02T19:23:00.000-07:00

Don't you hate it when you realize you've squandered the last three days of standardized testing... and have no idea what you're teaching tomorrow? I do.

Beat down

2006-09-29T16:23:00.000-07:00

Today, I gave my students a standardized reading test, which was required by the district. In its efforts to attack freshmen development/testing slumps, the DO decided to add two more reading/writing tests to the students' list of assessments throughout the year. So now, my students take finals in January and June, course and teacher specific. They take a standardized reading test twice per year, in Sept/Oct and April. Our school has also decided to do writing assessments school-wide to trace progress in writing skills; the students get that three times per year.

So, for most of my freshmen, I gave them a writing assessment yesterday and the first of a two-day reading assessment today. (Don't get me started on how the DO thought it would be a one-period test and it really, really is not; the directions say it's untimed, for golly's sake!) My 2/3 period class was pretty quiet, but I'm their first two periods of the day, for most of them anyway, so I didn't think anything of it. I should have known something was in the air, though, since they're also the most outgoing, the most talkative, and the most comfortable with each other and me. My 4th and 5th periods were unsually low-energy, low-key, and quiet. I found out why as I handed out the tests to my 5th period: other departments in the school were doing the first of two progress assessments today. Two students in 5th period had a "standardized" or progress test every period: science in 2nd period, Spanish in 3rd period, swim test in 4th period, and then the second of 3 English tests in my class 5th period.

My kids are beat down. I didn't have to read the directions about how to fill out the name, date, grade, gender, birthday, ID bubbles on the answer sheet. They listened quietly to directions and rolled their eyes. They finished the tests quickly and then put their head down. Most students genuinely fell asleep. I would too, if I'd been assessed all day. Even if the kids didn't take it seriously (and most seemed to, from what I saw), being assessed and reading and figuring out: it's tiring for their poor 14 and 15 year old brains. I didn't teach most of the day, and I'm exhausted!

--

My reading/English kids 2/3 period were the funniest, and I have never loved them as much as I did today. I have them for two periods back-to-back and I don't even let them out for the 5 minute passing period for a break. My instructional model for the reading program is pretty structured: 20 minutes in whole group, then 3 20-minute rotations, then 10 minutes wrap-up. Since I have them for 110 minutes continually, we do the model the way it's supposed to be, and then we finish out the time with some of the freshmen-required syntax unit.

Today, the students were still working on their reading assessment when the bell rang for the end of the 2nd period. One student asked if he could get up and go near the door. Since he's recovering from a nasty cold, I thought he was going to go outside and spit, which he's been doing 2-3 times per day for a few days. Nope. He got up, pulled the door stop up, and closed the door, simply returning to his reading assessment. Now this kid, he's a goof-off and an instigator and a quick thinker and a lot of other things that substitute teachers don't like. I was shocked that he even thought to close the door (which I do on normal days to prevent my students from getting distracted by the students outside changing classes), much less wanted one less distraction from his test.

My block class was all voted to have both the reading and writing tests on the same day. Originally, I presented it to them as two tests that would take 2 full periods. They said break it up; that's too much! I thought, okay, that makes sense. Then one student was smart enough to ask if that would mean two days without rotations, I admitted that would be the case, and most students changed to all tests on one day. One even called attention to how much sooner he wanted to get to the next article in our reading book, about the Black Plague, and about half the class echoed his enthusiasm.

Now, I know this will skew the results. Students whose brains have been tested for two solid hours will not perform as well as students who have not. I don't feel bad about this for two main reasons: this is the pre-test for both assessments. Both will have follow-ups, maybe 2 follow-ups. Plus? I myself would prefer to have one more solid day to teach instead of being interrupted so much... by these important assessments... that assess things I'm supposed to be teaching... but I don't have time to teach because I'm giving the assessments... to test their abilities based on my teaching... you see where I'm going here?

S-T-R-E-S-S-E-D or desserts?

2006-09-20T15:48:00.000-07:00

This week is the worst kind of stress: home, work, and volunteer.

Tonight is Back to School Night. Many may know that I don't bother decorating my room much, but I always feel like I need to make an effort right before the parents come. I started looking at my room through parents' eyes on Friday and decided they'd think the microphones and headphones at each computer were left messy, the big gaping hole where the clock should be is very ghetto, and the bare walls would be uninviting. Not to mention the bulletin board from last year that still has work and photos from last year. So I've been trying to get supplies to make my room nice. Plus, I'm a bit behind in grading (not as bad as usual) and feel like I should try to get caught up and get grades printed in case parents want to know.

At home, I've been working hard to keep the place clean, but it's starting to ware on me. I don't want to nag my honey to do stuff, but sometimes it takes him DAYS to empty the dishwasher, and then the dirty dishes pile up and, frankly, start stinking up the place. Plus, he doesn't take out the garbage until you've truly compacted it, he'd prefer to put empty boxes and bottles on the dryer than take out the recycling, and he doesn't care if there are clothes to fold and put away because we normally pile them on my couch, not his. Luckily, last night, he finally did a lot of the work that needed to be done, in addition to filling a load of dishes (which is my job) because he knew he was preventing me from doing mine.

And then there's the volunteer stuff. Ugh. This weekend, I'll be one of two main organizers for a picnic that will welcome over 250 people to a park for a celebration. Getting the details just right - confirming RSVPs, scheduling vendors and entertainers, securing raffle items, making signs, recruiting volunteers, budgeting, etc. - has been exhausting. It didn't seem like that much work 6 months ago, but none of the volunteers wanted to start really thinking about getting the work done until 3 weeks ago. (Me included, to tell you the truth; at least I tried.) And now I'm spending 2-3 hours between the email and the phone confirming plans and answering questions. Someone better send me a care package soon, cuz I'm gonna bust. My co-organizer and I have been joking about drinking after the picnic, but it's getting to be less and less like a joke.

All of that taken with the fact that my work-out buddy is out of town (and I'm not sure I'd have time to workout if she were in town) and my period is on its way... well, my stress level is high and so's my intake of creamy sugary foods. Which is bad for me, for those who are wondering.

Back to hanging posters and grading papers.

4-year battle nearly over

2006-09-18T22:04:00.000-07:00

I got this email today:

This e-mail verifies that you have met all of the necessary academic
requirements for:

Credential(s):
Professional Clear Single Subject Teaching Credential

Submitted: Tue Sep 19 00:57:28 EDT 2006

/me sighs the largest sigh of relief.

Because I don't believe in the Oracle

2006-09-18T00:55:00.000-07:00

Stolen from donna, who stole it from hkath, whose URL I don't know off the top of my head.

1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question even if it doesn't make sense. NO CHEATING!
~~4. Tag 10 people to play this game too.~~

One more addendum: I share a music server with my husband, so if I don't know the song, I'm skipping to the next one.

-> Will you get far in life?
"Harbor Lights" by Bruce Hornsby. As far as I know, it's about seduction.

->How do your friends see you?
"Superstition" by Stevie Wonder
Seven years of bad luck, good things in the past Lovely.

->Will you get married?
"Meanies" by Jim's Big Ego
Goodies like us, we have to stick tight and tell ourselves that we are right. Uh hunh.

->What is your best friend's theme song?
"What's It All About" by Five O'Clock Shadow
I've always said I'll do whatever the hell I want Yup, that's about right.

->What is the story of your life?
"Give Judy my Notice" by Ben Folds
'Cuz I come running when you want me here

->What was high school like?
"Shimmer" by Shawn Mullins
I want to shimmer, I want to shine, I want to radiate, I want to live, I want to love, I want to try to learn not to hate Yup.

->How can you get ahead in life?
"Downtown Lights" by Annie Lennox.
Um, I've never liked this song. But, "just accept the present" or "take notice of your surroundings"? I don't know the advice here.

->What is the best thing about your friends?
"Love's Recovery" by Indigo Girls
Yikes. The best part is we can be morbidly honest? I don't know.

->What is today going to be like?
"Jolly Roving Tar" by GBS
Apparently, I'm going to get uproariously drunk. That should be interesting, since I have library orientation scheduled all day for class.

->What is in store this weekend?
"I Love L.A." by Randy Newman
You can't drag me to L.A. this weekend to save my life. For many reasons.

->What song describes you?
"Starbright" by Jim Brickman
Did I forget to mention that all our Christmas music is on the server too? =)

->What song describes your grandparents?
"Opening Time" by Push Stars
Sometime I feel like I'm the salt on your soul / Or what's left over in your cereal bowl / Or like cheap coffee that's turning to cold Yikes.

->How is your life going now?
"She Has a Girlfriend Now" by Reel Big Fish
It's not like that. Really. On the other hand, I was out with my "girlfriends" the last three nights in a row, so I think Joe might throttle me soon if I don't pay attention to him soon.

->What song would they play at your funeral?
"Winter Wonderland" by Tony Bennett
Again with the Christmas. My mom wants "It's Over" from ELO played at her funeral. Dad says not while he's alive. Mom says it's now in her will. =)

->How does the world see you?
"California" by Rufus Wainwright
I live there, yes. My extended family can't seem to understand that where I live is a good 6-8 hours' drive from my cousin in LA. Heh. Different life.

->Will you have a happy life?
"Centerfold," cover of the J. Geils Band by a cappella group Delusions of Grandeur
I'm not posing. My subscription to Playboy ran out a few years ago and I did not renew because I never had time to read it.

->What do your friends really think of you?
"S.R." by Reel Big Fish
All the other bands are shit! Hehehe. See previous post

->Do people secretly lust after you?
"Crucify " by Tori Amos
I'm not sure that's a direct answer.

->How can I make myself happy?
"Senza Motivo Apparente" by Ennio Morricone
Um, this song has no lyrics to work from. But I love the muted trumpet. Does that answer the question?

->What should I do with my life?
"Don't Look Back" by The Temptations
I kid you not. That's what came up. Man, that sucks. There goes all my scrapbooking time and money.

->Will you ever have children?
"I'm Waiting for the Man" by Velvet Underground
Um, didn't I already found him? I mean, I have a kid. Soo...