24 March 2009

Notes to Self (re: packing/moving)


1- Packing with a 4 1/2 year old who is very interested in EVERYTHING you take off the bookshelf or out of a drawer is not as easy as one might think. Nor does it move as quickly as one would like.

2- One can accumulate a TON of stuff in the space of two years. Even when one thinks she has been really good about throwing away the "unnecessary things."

3- "Airplane" size bottles of booze are really only good for when you are on an airplane. Unless the bottle is actually the size of an airplane...

4- If one looks at something and thinks, "this should go in the garbage," one really ought to throw it in the bin immediately.

5- The amount of beer a person drinks while packing is directly proportional to the number of boxes packed, however, the amount of work accomplished, is inversely proportional.

6- Blogging is also not conducive to box-packing.

7- I may need a "shoe whores anonymous" group... if not for the shoes, then for the books.

8- Mentally planning barbecues and dinner parties is NOT packing, nor is it any kind of actual moving preparation. It is, however, great for procrastination.

9- Packing 10 half-full bottles of booze is less fun than drinking 10 half-full bottles of booze... although, I'm sure the hangover is nearly the same.

10- Things WILL be chaotic and messy. Get over it. You are moving!! Yay!!

17 March 2009

My Boyfriend


...wants to get chickens.

Chickens!

Seriously... you have no idea how excited I am. I love animals... even more, I love animals that are "odd."

Yes, please, can we have chickens?!?

BTW, have I mentioned that I've always wanted a feinting goat?


I love goats. For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to own a goat... and at some point after that, I heard about the feinting goat, and there is no question, if I ever have the opportunity, I WILL have one of these:



Isn't he cute? Yes indeed, if I'm going to have a goat... I'll probably have this little guy. And then I'll run up and yell at him, and he'll fall over stiff, and I'll die laughing...

Is that wrong?

16 March 2009

Listen to Your Mother


When I graduated from elementary school to junior high, I was very excited. A new school, my friends and I joined together with multiple elementary schools, the opportunity to come together with other people my age... to get to know some new people, and maybe make some new friends. Definitely new opportunities.

After about two weeks at my new school, I remember laying in bed one night, crying. My mom came in, and asked me what was wrong ... keep in mind at this point, the school was 7th through 9th grades. I remember feeling lonely and awful... that my friends had moved on to other friends, and I was suddenly left in the dust. I didn't understand what was wrong with me. Why was I so different? Why did I suddenly not have any friends, and holy crap, why was school so much harder? I felt lost and alone (which, interestingly, describes most of my jr. high and high school career).

My mom offered me a piece of advice that still comforts me to this day... of course, then, I was too young to appreciate its importance, but it didn't take long before I understood.

"When you started out in elementary school, you were a small fish, in a big pond... then as you advanced to 6th grade, you turned into a big fish in a small pond. Now, you've moved up to a new pond, and you will start out as a small fish... but, with time, you'll move up, and be a big fish again. That is how life is, as soon as you learn how to do something well, you've mastered it, and it is time to start something new... from the beginning. We are continually learning, once you've learned something, and how to do it well, it is time to move on and learn something new..."

At the time, this concept was VERY frustrating to me. What is the point of learning something, and getting good at it if it is just going to end, and you have to move on to something else... it seems ridiculous. Now, there is still a small part of me that gets annoyed, but the bigger part is ready to go on to learn something new... once I figure out the thing I've been working to learn. As soon as I seem to have things under control, I wait for that curve ball, and when it comes, I do my best to aim, and fire away. Because, it all seems to be a natural part of the learning process... getting to that mastery point, and starting over with a new concept.

Sometimes I even get impatient... I've learned something, I'm good at it... what the heck is next, and why is it taking so long!?
(yes, I'm part of the 'instant gratification' generation... it's all about me, and it needs to be NOW.)

Sometimes it seems those moments come in quick succession. I think I have a handle on something, it seems to be working out ok... lets give it a twist... and a tweak... and oh hey, we'll turn this part wonky... just for fun.

Bring it on.

As my first school year as a teacher comes to a close (yeah, right... only 2 1/2 months until summer vacation), I'm finding that I very quickly mastered this new situation... and although I still have a TON to learn, I somehow managed to learn to keep my head above water, and even swim when the water got deep. Now, I start my credential program (yes, I should have done it months ago, but I was busy)... I am doing a dual credential (special ed/regular ed - mild to moderate disability) and a masters degree in special education at the same time. If you think that sounds insane, you are very likely right... it sounds pretty nutty to me... but what do I know?

I'm just a little fish in a HUGE pond... once again.

15 March 2009

Building Blocks & Jigsaw Puzzles


As much as I tend to prefer expressing myself in writing, sometimes it isn't always the best medium.

I suppose that has been a big part of the problem lately. Along with a severe case of writer's block, a ton of paperwork at work, and the distraction of a very active 4 1/2 year old, it seems that what I've been wanting to write about so very badly, just hasn't wanted to come across very well in blog form.

So, every day I think about the words that I want to share... some days I even sit here with my hands on the keyboard, and my brain flitting about, unable to focus on one thing at a time. I miss the words (practically) effortlessly flowing from my fingertips... my thoughts communicating complete ideas, instead of a million partial ideas, and a thousand questions interspersing themselves between those thoughts.

Life is very good, thank you for asking.

I am really enjoying my job, and, although I didn't receive a pink slip on Friday (for those who don't know: I'm a teacher), I'm still not 100% convinced I'll be working next year. I won't be entirely comfortable until I've signed my name to a contract. However, I do believe I've finally found the right job, and am happy to feel like I have settled into the career I was "meant" to have.

I am lucky enough to have found a man that I've fallen head over heels in love with. We seem to fit together as only two oddly shaped puzzle pieces can, we complement one another in so many important ways, sometimes I am still pleasantly surprised at the way we fit.

We've decided to move in together. I couldn't be happier. I don't even know how to articulate it properly... the excitement, the fear, the anticipation, the thrill... all of these emotions happening all the time in quick succession. Although, the fear has started to lessen, and the excited anticipation is taking its place.

As we get closer to moving day (two weeks and counting), I have done a little reflecting... but mostly, I'm looking forward. And, as excited as I am about the future, I am concentrating on the now. I am happy and excited, and that is a wonderful feeling to enjoy in the moment.

Now, who wants to help us move?

10 March 2009

SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!


I got up this morning, and followed the usual routine. Shower, wake the ShortBus, hair, makeup, clothes, make sure the Boy is dressed, comb his hair, give him food, get coffee, out the door...

Except today there was a minor hiccup.

When I got the the "Comb His Hair" part I noticed a little black dot. Thinking it was dirt, I flick at it with my finger.... only... that doesn't feel like dirt... and it didn't come out. So, I investigate a little more closely... comb the hair aside only to reveal a tick. A flippin' tick! So, I gasp, ShortBus says, "What mommy?"

I respond, "oh.. uh... nothing."

And, proceed to try to use the comb to coax the little bugger out of his hair. Only, it's not in his hair... it's in his scalp. Yes, my sweet little child has a parasite burrowing into his brain.

Obviously, I'm not a big fan of ticks.

As a matter of fact, they are in my top three "creatures I hate with a burning passion." Right along with potato bugs and centipedes (or milipedes... all those legs... freaky).

So, being the rational, calm person that I am, I send the ShortBus out to watch TV with a banana, and go into his room, close the door, and do the dance. You know the dance.... "omg omg omg! ew ew ew ew!" *shudder shudder* Hands flapping, eyes squinched shut, jumping up and down... the whole nine.

Now. What to do about this creature? I have never removed a tick from any living thing... I've never had one even on me, let alone IN me... I haven't even been able to watch as they've been removed from various pets I've had. I just. Can't. Handle. It.

The one person I know, who is local, and can for a fact remove said pest from my child is my ex-husband (at the moment, he still lives a block away). Of course, it is 7:15, and I know he's already at work... but, I'll give it a shot anyway.

Now, as the phone is ringing, I'm thinking, "This is YOUR child too, and it is very likely YOUR fault he has a tick in his BRAIN, you absolutely have to take care of this right now." Of course, when he answers, I say, "Hey... how's it goin'?"

ex: "fine. what's up?"
me: "you don't happen to be home still?"
ex: "no, I'm on my way to work."
me: "ah well, ya know, no big deal, but our son has a tick IN HIS HEAD!"
ex: "a tick? hahahaha!"
me: "dude."
ex: "so take it out."
me: "you know how I feel about those things... and it is IN HIS HEAD!"

You can see where this is going.

He tells me exactly how to go about taking it out, and says,"so let me know how that goes. Later."

At this point, I go to my computer, and call in sick for the first two hours of school. There is no way this is going to be resolved in less than two hours.... mommy has issues.

This whole time I'm thinking about CSB and how he's NOT here, and even if he couldn't take it out (hm.. another thing I need to learn about him), he would at least provide rational thought in my moment of crazy. He's definitely good at that. I don't think I have many moments of crazy (no crazy person does), but he's a great balance to my brand of crazy, and has this really wonderful way of bringing me back to 'rational' after allowing me to have a moment of ... not so rational.

But, he's in Oakland... and Vacaville is closer... yes, time to call my mommy and daddy. I know they are sleeping (it is barely 7:20 am), but this is an emergency! There is a creature burrowing ever closer to their grandson's brain... and it is sucking his blood... his life force! That blood has half my DNA! The Boy needs it!!!

So, I wake up my poor parents, leaving a message on their answering machine that goes something like this: "Good Morning! I'm sorry to call so early, and I'm sure I'm waking you up, but we are having a minor issue this morning, and I could use your advice. So... um... if you get a chance... sometime kinda soon, could you call me back. kthxbye."

They call back and advise me to take him to Kaiser. Yes, Kaiser! $25 to get a tick removed! Sounds silly, but at that point, I probably would have paid $125.

So, we go to Kaiser, the doctor asks the ShortBus why we were there, SB says "because I have a bug in my hair." Which is exactly the story I told him, "BTW: we're stopping at the doctor's office on the way to school because you have a bug in your hair, and I'd like the doctor to take it out."

His response: "Ok. Is it going to hurt?"
My response: "It won't hurt you, the doctor is going to use tweezers to grab the bug, but not you. You won't even notice."
His response: "Ok."

And, that was that. The doctor took about 4 seconds to remove the thing (I couldn't look), he went to school, and told all his friends he "had a bug in his hair." I went to Starbucks, and got a coffee and a muffin, and sat and tried to relax before going in to work.

Yeah, parenting. It's gross.