The Author

My photo
I am a high school English teacher, and mother of two charming little ones of my own. I teach in a high poverty urban charter school, while I live in a typical American suburb that has frequently been rated one of the safest cities in the country. It is a paradox I struggle with constantly, but it is my life.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Gratitude

I am permanently convinced that the secret to a happy life is gratitude.  So, today I am reminding myself of how grateful I am for all the things I love in life.

Things I love....

  • when my new Time magazine arrives each week (yes, I'm a geek. News excites me)
  • feeling a sense of community with my family, friends, and neighbors
  • having a mechanic in the family 
  • supporting local artisans by buying homemade goods
  • my mother's enthusiasm for knitting
  • my mother's enthusiasm for everything
  • when Tiana wraps her arms around my neck and says, "Mommy, I really love you!"
  • the taste of coffee in the morning
  • the relatively little effort involved in making a cup of coffee with my Keurig
  • thinking about Maui
  • deep dish chocolate chip cookie ice cream pies
  • the sun
  • wearing a tank top in February
  • being barefoot
  • my friends, because quality is most certainly more important than quantity
  • the Honda family (not the car -- people at my church)
  • Joel Stein's column in Time magazine (99% of the time.  I kind of want to write him a nasty letter about the misinformation he spread about the Common Core Standards in a December issue). 
  • that the brilliantly sarcastic student in my sixth period class has figured out I intentionally  don't hear the things he mutters under his breath
  • Flocabulary
  • the kindness of strangers
  • that Tiana loves our minister and yells, "Paater Gey Ree!"  whenever she sees him
  • my bi-weekly produce delivery from "Farm Fresh to You"
  • how my husband will pretty much do anything for me
  • my crock pot (by far the best kitchen gadget ever invented)
  • salsa 
  • garlic
  • the view from my back porch
  • my son's tiny neighborhood school
  • teaching at a charter school
  • Kelly Gallagher's book Write Like This
  • having thirteen cousins and a huge extended family
  • dark chocolate covered raisins from the bulk bins at Sprouts
  • that I got lucky with one boy and one girl
  • family photos, especially when I occasionally look good in one
  • the feeling of sand between my toes














Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Perspectives, Dreams, and Home

Feel the need to take a break and blog, despite the pile of stuff in my bag that is calling "grade me."

Happy Mardi Gras! I celebrated by working until 5:30, then heading to the pancake dinner at church (pancakes before lent -- apparently an old English tradition... who knew?). My adorable kiddos were so adorable and loving tonight. Tiana was giving Vinny kisses and saying, "That's my brother! I love my brother."  While they were playing with all the other little kids, my two were practically inseparable. She was hanging on his sleeve most of the time.  Just so darn cute.  She was in a particularly affectionate mood this evening. She didn't even resist when her little two-year-old boyfriend went to give her a hug (in fact, she even gave him a kiss on the cheek and giggled -- doesn't normally go down that way).

Today was a good day overall.  Busy and exhausting, and I had to threaten to keep my sixth period after school (I hate making threats, particularly because I never make a threat I won't keep my word on). In the morning, during break, a couple students came in to get cozy and read. One of them told me that my classroom is "home."   :-)   She pretty much made my week.

This was always my goal for my classroom, and I feel like I have achieved it. My glass menagerie is a place where students feel camaraderie, and where they feel comfortable and taken care of.  They know where the leftover cereal is kept and feel comfortable helping themselves. During winter dry skin season, they know that there is usually lotion in the bathroom drawer. They stop by in between classes to order books. If it is cold outside and they just want a quiet place to read at break, they know I'm usually there, just setting up for the next class. They occasionally fight over the most comfy spots, but it's first come first serve and they know the early bird catches the worm.

When I was doing my credential, one professor put this question on the final exam:
"Describe your ideal classroom set up. Include more than just the seating layout. Describe the atmosphere you hope to create."

I answered that my ideal classroom would be warm and cozy. There would be couches and rugs and cozy chairs where my students will cuddle up with good books. The desks would be in a circular shape, so students face each other and me, on an equal level, to remind them that I am not a "sage on a stage," but that we are all partners in an educational journey. There would be crayons and markers and paint within arms reach, because art and color belong in all classrooms, not just elementary classes or art studios.  It will always smell like coffee or hot chocolate, like home.

The professor commented, "Cute ideas, but not very realistic."

Really?  Why not?  And I thought he said "ideal" not realistically acceptable?  And why can't I have my ideal classroom?  His comment bothered me almost as much as the fact that he marked me down for not remembering his acronym for the signs of teens considering suicide. (Never mind the fact that I  accurately described the signs and gave detailed examples of each. I mean... who cares what you know about depression if you don't have an acronym to fit it into). But I digress....   My point is -- I am a dreamer, which I say with no shame at all.

When I was 19 years old, I heard a man named Tommy Barnett preach on a tiny verse, easily scanned right over... Proverbs 29:18, which basically reminds us that (paraphrasing my own version of the modern point behind this) without dreams, life is pretty pointless. He wrote a really great book, Dream Again (which, incidentally, I have never read all of, but still want to someday - I wonder if it is sitting in Marc's office -- further digression, but it's that kind of night), about the fact that miracles happen everyday, and that God wants to give us the desires of our hearts.

   Well, my heart desires to create a safe haven, where students learn, love, and grow, through literature that opens their eyes and changes their perspectives.

      Speaking of perspective, that reminds me of a conversation I overheard yesterday.  While the students were previewing picture books they will be analyzing tomorrow, one student said, "These have all got to have something in common, but I can't even imagine what..." Another rather insightful student, an exceptionally bright underachiever replies, "That's because she [meaning me] did an amazing job of picking books. She wants us to see different perspectives."

Exactly.

"Stories matter. Many stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign. But stories can also be used to empower, and to humanize." 
-- Chimamanda Adichie 





Saturday, February 2, 2013

Walking the Walk

     This week, I have unintentionally turned Vinny into a radical environmentalist.  He was complaining again about the kids at school making fun of his reusable snack bags. They told him they were for "babies," whatever that means. I'm so sick of hearing this, and so very much desire for Vinny to be comfortable being different, that I decided I needed to just explain it to Vinny. 

     "Vinny, do you know why mommy sends those?" 
     "No." 
     "Because I don't want to send you with plastic baggies that will end up in the landfill. Do you know what a landfill is?" 
     "No." 
     "Let me show you." 

      At that point, I got on the internet and together we looked at pictures of landfills. The first thing he noticed in the photos was how many birds there were, so I pulled up some pictures of birds who ate plastic. We talked about how sometimes trash gets picked up by the wind and ends up in storm drains.  I showed him pictures of the great Pacific garbage patch, and this upset him a lot.  He is particularly fond of sea animals.  "Mommy, does my favorite sea animal eat plastic?"  

      Vinny loves sharks.  I've never heard about sharks endangered by plastic, but I decided I would give it a look.  Sure enough, we found a video of a shark with plastic wrapped around his mid section, cutting into his skin.  It had created a gash about 3 inches deep.  A man was trying to rescue the shark and was eventually able to catch the shark, get the plastic off, and release him.  Yikes. 

     We had some great conversations that night about the fact that people just don't realize the damage that they are doing, and about how its important to do what we can to help.  He has always understood recycling, so we also talked about how recycling raises some issues with pollution, but is still better than nothing.  I was glad to see him go to bed that night feeling secure and confident in his ability to deal with his friends.  He said, "I'm gonna tell my friends that I'm not a baby, I just don't want to fill the earth and the ocean with trash because I love birds and sharks."  Haha.  The type of person Vinny is, he probably will go on to educate his classmates about the importance of reusable containers. 

      The next morning, we packed Vinny's lunch like usual and off he went.  He came home, opened his lunch box, and said, "Mommy, I brought home my trash so we can recycle it."  I try to send waste-free lunches, but there are some things that the kids like that involve trash.  He took out the leftover container from his squeeze applesauce and a wrapper from a breakfast bar.  

      "Those aren't recyclable, sweetie. They go in the trash can." 

      He looked at me with this look of utter distaste and confusion. "Then why did you send them?" 

     "Because they are what you like.  But we can try to find alternatives if you want.  I mean, Tiana really likes the squeeze applesauce, but you can bring your applesauce in a container with a spoon tomorrow next time, if you want." 

      "Yes, do that.  I don't want to make trash!" 

     I sighed and realized I had opened a bigger can of worms than I had intended to.  I would truly need to be more conscious of my shopping.  I've tried to take this one step at a time -- I mean, five years ago, I didn't even recycle because I was too lazy to get a second trash can and walk the extra ten yards to the recycling receptacle in our condo complex -- but Vinny doesn't really take anything one step at a time. 

       Trying to do the best I can, I decided to check out Sprouts, since I heard they have a bigger selection of bulk items than Whole Foods.  I packed for the trip and brought lots of containers for my bulk items.  It turns out they are much less "bring your own" friendly than Whole Foods, since they apparently have no way to remove tare weights.  It was kind of a hassle.  I'm just going to have to find cloth bags that are equally lightweight, because their system just automatically removes the bag tare. They were really apologetic though and did their best to accommodate. Ultimately, their bulk section is really something amazing. I'd heard that they have bulk spices to fill your own spice jars too, but I couldn't find them. They do have all kinds of bulks snacks and cereals and dried fruits and candies and grains and coffee and well... you name it.  I got a snack mix somewhat like the Cheez-it snack mix that the kids like so much.  I also got dried cherries and chocolate covered pretzels and some dark chocolate covered raisins (which are totally going to be my undoing since they are amazing). Tiana wanted to sample all of it.  So cute.  She insisted that we get wasabi peas.  A worker overheard my insistence that she wouldn't like them and offered to let her try one. Oh man.  Am I terrible mom for thinking that was funny?  She first said, "Yum," then started to panic and looked like she was going to cry. He handed her a chocolate covered pretzel and she eventually got over it.  Needless to say, we didn't get wasabi peas. I also got a ton of their French vanilla granola with the intention of trying to make my own granola bars so Vinny doesn't have to feel bad about throwing the wrappers away.  It was a very long shopping trip, but we really stocked up on stuff, which was good. 

      So, today, I am trying to do more than talk the environmentalist talk, but it turns out that walking the walk can often be harder than it looks. Until you really start thinking about all the trash your groceries produce, it's easy to ignore, but as I unpacked my groceries today, I couldn't help but think about the fact that, despite my efforts, the groceries I was putting away would eventually produce quite a bit of trash. Sure, we could go waste free if we stopped buying things like cheerios, of if I could make everything myself and never buy things like frozen pizzas or frozen burritos, but I work full time. I hate to admit it, but there are boundaries. There are not enough hours in the day for me to homemake things like bread and crackers. And I envy people who speak of great grocery stores where they will cut off a block of parmesan and stick it in your cloth, but I have yet to find a local grocery store with such a bulk cheese section. Oh well. I bought locally farmed organic cheese instead. Can't have it all, I suppose. What is it that that song says?

     "Keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change." 

     


Monday, January 28, 2013

Ministry and Marriage

Like anything else, I suppose, being married to a youth minister has its ups and downs.  For one, you never really disappear at church.  Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure if this is an up or a down.  Its mostly an up. Like the Cheers song says, "Sometimes you want to go, where everybody knows your name."  Everyone at my church knows my name (okay, at least my last name, I get called "Mrs" at church quite often"), even if I don't know everyone else's names yet.  We've been at this church for over a year, and I am still learning names, but there are several hundred people in the church, and I am not very involved, so it takes time. 

There are definitely feel good moments.  At the annual church business meeting yesterday, the president's report said such remarkably nice things about my husband that I was practically moved to tears. Having other people remind you of all the reason's you married a person.... definitely a perk. 

But there are downsides. Like all the traveling.  All youth ministers travel.  If you were involved in a high school youth ministry as a teenager, then you know what I mean and why.  The most meaningful times of bonding and ministry are on trips and overnighters and things like that.  Plus, there are also conferences and trainings.  In addition, Marc is in graduate school now through a distance program, which means he travels to Iowa several times a year.  I don't begrudge him these trips, but it can be a difficult, lonely time, especially for a parent. When I was younger and did not have kids, I would fill these times with activities with my friends. Other times, I would even go with him. Now, my kids keep me home for most of these.  There is a youth pastor's wife who blogs regularly and she talks about "camp season," with the same sentiments.  She says, "It’s hard to stay strong and supportive of my husband after being alone for so many days and nights."

And it just never seems to happen at a good time.  This weekend, Vinny had tech rehearsals all weekend.  The theatre is about half an hour from our house, and the drop off and pick up times just did not coordinate well with Tiana's sleep schedule.  With a lot of help from my mom, I made it work, but add rain and cold to the mix and it is just yuck inconvenient.  Last night was the final dress rehearsal, so, as you theatre people will understand, it of course ran late. As we waited outside in the cold, while it drizzled on our heads, I was one of the only parents there with a little one.  I chatted with the moms around me, and many of them have younger kids too, but they were of course home with their husbands.  

Such is life.  Everyone has their struggles.  I'd certainly rather parent solo a few weeks/weekends a year than for months at a time like military wives.  

Friday, January 25, 2013

A Worthwhile Journey

      If you had asked me in Spring of 2012 for my opinion of the Master's program I am enrolled in, you would have physically been able to see my blood pressure rise. I would have begrudgingly admitted that I was learning a lot, but I would have also told you that it was draining my will to live.
     
       As I begin my last semester of graduate school, I am feeling much more positive, reflective even.  Reflective is probably a good way to be feeling, given the portfolio I have to compile and present in order to graduate.  We were officially assigned the portfolio project last night. With memories of my credential program all too fresh, I have anticipated this project with anxiety and dread.  Now that I am actually looking at it and starting it, dare I say that I might even enjoy it?

       I'll admit it.  I am enjoying parts of it.  In class last night, we brainstormed possible options for each "artifact" we are required to present.  In thinking about these classes, I began skimming through folders in my computer, looking at the work I have done over the last three semesters.  I continued this process tonight, flipping through physical folders of graded papers, handouts, and class notes. My metacognitive process could be likened to an out of body experience, as if I am observing the past three semesters of my teaching, as well as the past three semesters of my learning, from a distance.  I re-read a paper I wrote in my first semester of the program, and I didn't even really remember writing it. I found myself chuckling at my own sense of humor and my quirky writing. I rejoiced in my own stories, if that makes any sense at all. I got to the end of the paper and read my instructor's comment, "A pure delight," and thought to myself, "Yes, this was truly delightful."  Reading the paper, I mean. I don't really remember writing it, so that part must not have been particularly delightful.

      I would be lying if I claimed that this entire experience was a delight. Graduate school has been many things, but delightful would not be at the top of the list.  Exhausting, eye-opening, and enlightening, would probably be my top three descriptors.  But today, I have to admit that it has been a good journey that has stretched me as an individual, pushed me as a writer and as a teacher, and has changed the way I view education. A worthwhile journey for sure.

How worthwhile?  $10,000 worthwhile?  Well...  you might want to ask me that a year from now when my student loans enter repayment status again.






Sunday, January 20, 2013

The Joy of January

Most years, I make plans like crazy all January.  (I have this month off of school).  Before Vinny was in school, I used to use this time to travel, but I would also schedule myself full of other activities as well. This month, I have done the opposite. I have done a lot of staying home and a lot of not making plans.  I don't regret this at all.  It has allowed me to enjoy and appreciate things I have not always had the opportunity to in the past.  I have gotten into habits I am enjoying.  I have been home cooking almost every single meal.  We don't eat lunch or dinner out. We ate one meal out at Knotts Berry Farm on Friday, and that is the only meal we have not eaten at home all month.  This is huge for us.  At first, I was kind of grieving our decision to stop eating meals out.  I enjoy take out. It tastes good and its easy. Now, I have found that I am enjoying the routine of eating each meal here. I like being able to make each meal just the way I like it.  I have enjoyed experimenting with new stuff (my homemade macaroni and cheese was a flop, but hey at least I tried). I have even started making breakfast regularly.  I am not big on breakfast, so this is new for me. I usually don't have anything but coffee in the morning. I made a huge batch of waffles and froze the leftovers.  We have a "bagel slice" toaster, so I can reheat them easily in there, and you know what... homemade belgian waffles taste much better than store bought frozen waffles. 

Best of all... when I designed a monthly budget for this year, I cut our budget for food by $200.  I was nervous about this decision and didn't know if we would really be able to make it work, even without eating meals out. As a result, I have made extreme efforts to be incredibly frugal with my food usage.  I have become more aware of portion size and have tried to cook only what we will use, and I have also tried to be more aware of our leftovers to be sure not to let them go to waste. As a result, we are about 64% of the way through the month, but we have only used 39% of our food budget!  Woo hoo!  Go me.  This extra money can go to pay off our debt faster.

I've spent much time in introspection. Recent events in my life have made me really question a lot about my life -- who I say I am, who I really am, what I really value in life, and what I want for my future and what I am doing to get there.  It has opened my eyes to a lot. Some of it has been somewhat painful, but I think for the best.  I am proud of myself for the personal progress that I have made. 

I am nervous about going back to work and keeping the commitments that I have made to myself.  I want to try to be mom first and teacher second, so that I can keep making homemade meals and packing Vinny healthy lunches.  It's just hard to describe what happens to me when I am working.  Teaching has a way of completely taking over your life.  Even when I want to be mom first and teacher second, it is just really hard to do.  Teaching is kind of all hands on deck. 

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Outside the box

       Last week, Marc and I watched a movie called No Impact Man that a friend recommended.  Great movie. What really surprised me was how some people reacted so negatively to this man's one-year experiment to try to be as environmentally friendly as absolutely possible. I will never understand why people act negatively towards people who are trying to make changes for the better.

      But come to think of it, people do occasionally act like I am a crazy person because of the little things we do differently.  A woman at Knott's Berry Farm once watched me changing a cloth diaper while she waited in line for a stall. By the time she got to me, she actually looked at me and said, "That's disgusting." It was only a wet diaper, not a dirty one, so I was confused. 

       "Huh?"

     As I closed the wet bag tight, she replied, "The raggy diaper. What are you, Amish?"  

      Amish? Huh?  Lots of modern people use cloth diapers. Enough for there to be a company dedicated just to driving around the greater Los Angeles area picking up our diapers to wash them.  I'm really not sure what is disgusting about it either.  Yeah, changing diapers is kind of gross period, but I don't see how me throwing them in a bucket for a diaper company to wash is any grosser than throwing a paper diaper full of poop in a trash bag to sit in a landfill for the next century.  I think sometimes people imagine that I take the diapers out to my backyard and wash them by hand with my washboard. It's 2013. I'm cloth diapering, not churning butter.

But I'm in the minority and people don't always understand that. But I've grown as a person into not caring if people understand.  I mean, some of the things we do in life, we do just because that's the status quo. We've never thought about doing them differently.  I kind of think we should think. 

Like, why do we use paper towels and paper napkins?  Rags tend to be much more effective at cleaning up messes, not to mention less expensive.  Not that I think paper towels are some huge injustice or anything like that. It is just not a big deal to wash a few rags and cloth napkins in the midst of each load of laundry we are already doing. I mentioned this to my mom and she's like, "That's true. I have a lot of cloth napkins. I should use them. I just don't think of it." 

       Vinny takes his lunch to school in reusable containers, which apparently gets him made fun of sometimes. And he doesn't always bring the classic packed lunch - he's not huge on sandwiches. One day this week, he brought leftover stir-fry, which he was really excited to have.  On the walk home that day, Vinny says to me, "Sam says I don't eat healthy."

       "Because you brought Chinese food today?  What does he have against Chinese food?" 

      "I don't know. He says its junk food." 

       "Well, what was Sam eating?" 
   
       "A lunchable, I think." 

     I laughed.  I imagine this came from a good place. Sam's mom is probably trying to make good decisions for her family. I imagine she told Sam that it isn't healthy to eat school lunch every day, and so he has to bring lunch. Since the school lunch is usually corn dogs or pizza or chicken nuggets, I would have to agree that his lunchable is probably a better choice, but clearly this first-grader does not realize that some lean chicken w/broccoli and carrots tossed in a sesame ginger sauce is probably a healthier choice than processed meat and cheese. Why should he?  We raise kids to think in boxes. Disposable plastic ones, to be specific. School lunch is limited to a few boring choices, but I don't think it should be.  Apparently Vinny didn't care that much either, because he ate every last bite. 

     And I'm willing to be the weirdo who defies the status quo. And if my son grows up willing to defy the status quo, then I will be a very proud parent. 
      

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Not SuperMom, Just Super Me

     My mom is pretty much "SuperMom."  She is just really good at it. What is the "it" of which I speak?  The "it" is the standard by which society judges a mother. Those of you who are mothers probably know what I mean.
     The world is constantly evaluating women based on what it means to be a "good" mom. The tide is always changing on some things -- there was a time at which women really thought they were ensuring their child's best health by feeing them formula, while now the tide has shifted so far in the "breast is best" direction that you almost have to hide in shame if you did not breastfeed your infant -- however, there are other societal expectations of mothers that remain fairly universal:
      Good moms keep a tidy home. 
      Good moms get their laundry done and make sure their children have clean clothes. 
      Good moms make sure their children always look neat and put together. 
      Good moms look after their children's nutritional needs responsibly. 
      Good moms play with their children as the ever-willing participants in whatever schemes they may devise. 
      Good moms look after their children's education by getting them to school on time and ensuring they do their homework and being actively involved in what they are learning. 
      Good moms always put their children first in life, no matter what. 

     By all these accounts, my mother is super mom. I always kind of knew this too. I would go to friends' houses and see stuff like unwashed dishes in the sink and think "Geez, my mom would never leave dishes in the sink." I had friends who did their own laundry in elementary school. I didn't even do my own laundry in college. My mom couldn't even braid hair until I was seven, yet some of my earliest memories in life are of standing in front of the mirror in my mom's room  while she would use her gold-plated brush with the soft bristles to brush the tangles from my impossibly thin hair and form it into some sort of tidy hairdo. I have vivid memories of needing to drink a glass of milk at dinner table every night, and I knew never to even think of asking for soda on a weekday (although, if my dad was in a good mood, and I ate all of my dinner, I could sometimes convince him to help me make root beer floats for dessert). My mom made the best voices for my "little people" and was even willing to play the  boy parts if I wanted her to. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I was ever late to school (and if I was, it was probably because I threw some fit about getting dressed). As the ultimate PTA mom, my mom knew practically every kid in my elementary school -- she still remembers kids I don't think I ever even knew.  In fact, my mom is such the SuperMom that now she SuperMothers my children (and sometimes me). It is as if being a mom is just what she was meant to do. 

       It's not that I don't think I am a good mom.  I know I am a good mom. My kids love me and are excited to be with me. They are happy when I come home from work and enjoy the time that I have off work. When Tiana plays "mommy," with her dolly, she kisses that doll constantly and strokes her affectionately. She lays the doll down in her crib (yes, her doll has a crib) carefully and sweetly tucks her in and says goodnight. If our kids are a reflection of ourselves, then I think I'm looking at some pretty good parenting. 
     But I am certainly not society's good mom. I'm not a "type A" person, so although I do have a sense of organization to what I do, my home is not typically seen as having "a place for everything and everything in its place." Now that my mom takes care of my kids, I find it "practically perfect in every way" every day, but this is not at all my doing or my nature. The puzzles on the floor just don't bother me. I'm going to organize them later. I'm going to write in my blog now. I rarely know what to do with Tiana's out of control hair, so I settle for just "out of her face" most of the time. My mother-in-law keeps trying to schedule hair appointments for Vinny, but if he wants to grow it "as long as Rapunzel," well then I'm content to let it be. Some of my friends had qualms about using fruit snacks as bribery for potty training. Heck, I broke out the last of the halloween candy. Poop in the potty?  Have a pack of Skittles kid, you deserve it. While I will sit and do puzzles with Tiana for hours on end, I hate sitting in her playhouse -- it make me feel claustrophobic -- and I am guilty of refusing to sit through a two-hour "one man" reproduction of Vinny's favorite musicals. As much as I hassle my advisory students about their tardies, I must admit that I overslept and dropped Vinny off late to school one day this week (it was only by three minutes).  Because I am a teacher, I do get many weeks where I can just be mom, and I really love it, but I wouldn't quit teaching, even if I didn't need the money. 

       My SuperMom worked through much of my childhood, but I never thought it was because she liked working more than she liked me or anything like that. I knew if it were up to her, she would just stay home and be supermom, but I knew why she worked -- so that we could live in a beautiful suburb with some of the best schools for miles, and so we could have a great house where I had my own bedroom, a playground in the backyard, and even a pool.  Although I know that many people feel strongly convicted that a mother's place is with her children, I can tell you that I wouldn't have wanted my mom to stay home if it meant I had to share a room with my sister. And I wouldn't have wanted to give up our pool. And I certainly wouldn't have traded my excellent education for anything -- not even a stay-at-home-mom. 

     You know what I do wish I could have changed about my childhood?  I wish I didn't have to feel bad that my parents worked so hard to give me those things. I always knew that my mom didn't want to deal with cranky customers. She did it for us. She did it just to get by. I hated that she had to just get by. And I hated the times when they hated their bosses. I hated that my dad had to get up before dawn to run call centers when I knew he wished he was using the theatre arts degree he was still paying off.  But, as they say, c'est la vie. My parents did the best they could, and I could not be more grateful. 

    Neither Marc, nor I, work just because we have to. Our jobs are not just work. Sure, we would just work if we had no choice, but we've been dealt a good hand in life and have been able to have jobs we love and enjoy. We also have to work really hard at these jobs and sometimes this takes time away from our kids. But it doesn't mean we don't put them first. It means we continue to exist as people, not just as parents -- even me as a mom. I don't think that being a mom means you have to stop being a person. Nor do I think it would make me a better mom. My dad recently stopped me in a conversation when I mentioned taking some of "my kids" to New York again in a few years, and he said, "You shouldn't call your students your 'kids.' They are not your kids." 
     I sort of chuckled. "Why?" 
     "Because Vinny and Tiana hear you call them that and they're your kids."

     I honestly don't think my kids feel that they are in some sort of competition with my students.  I am sure there are times that they get irritated that I am so busy, but if you asked Vinny if he wanted me to quit, I know he'd say no. I am a role model to Vinny. He wants to be a director when he grows up. He is more irritated with the fact that I am not putting on a kid-friendly show this year than with the fact that I teach. On the occasional times when Vinny has visited my classroom, he stands in awe and asks questions like, "Where do you stand? Do your kids get to use these computers whenever they want? Do you write on this board a lot?"  

     A lot of people act like the absolute best thing that a mother can do for her child is to be home and be just be the best mom she can be. I think that is only true if that is what that woman really truly wants. I think the best thing I can do for my children is to be the best ME that I can be. This applies universally to the "to work or not to work" issue, as well as all the other expectations of parenting.  
      
      I am not a naturally "neat and tidy" person. I like things clean and organized, but leaving dirty dishes until the morning does not really bother me. I could force myself to be better at all the household chores. But I wouldn't be happy; I'd be stressed.  When I'm stressed, I'm a terrible mom.

     But when I do things I want to do... like taking a beginning dance class... then I have the patience to spend an hour a day helping my son get over his conceptual block against counting money (fingers he can count, tiny little boxes, tally marks... pretty much anything other than money - I'm working on it.  I think we had a breakthrough today).  When I do things I want to do,  and I'm not stressed, then I'm in the mood to cuddle up in Tiana's tiny toddler bed when she asks me to lay down with her before she falls asleep, even if my tush does hang off the edge of the bed. 

     By society's standards, I'm not supermom. But every day I become a bit more "super me" and that's all I want for me and my kids.





Sunday, January 6, 2013

Eating within our means...

So, the past few weeks, as part of our commitment to live within our means this year, we have promised ourselves not to unnecessarily eat take out or dine out. Take out has actually been a very big part of our lives. I track our spending on Mint.com, I realized we spent over $5000 last year on eating out. This was more than 33% of our food spending! Whoa!  

      When I realized this, it seemed the only logical step would be to cut out that spending, or at least as much of it as possible. Like I have talked about before, it is redefining how we live. It is about re-defining the difference between necessity and luxury, and the fact that we can't afford luxuries at this time in our life. 

    Please, if you are reading this and don't know us well, don't think that we live a life of flippant luxury, having steak dinners at five star restaurants or anything like that.  Totally not the truth. It averages out to less than $100 a week, and I can pretty much tell you what that is -  family take-out dinner Friday + family take-out dinner Saturday (~30-40 each) + a few other meals throughout the week. There are a few main restaurants we eat at Freebirds, Urban Cafe, Sharky's. I eat take-out almost every Thursday because I have classes from 4-10pm. Add an occasional take-out lunch. A dinner out with friends every other month or so. How quickly it adds up. I just didn't really realize.  

     But now that we do, this is our opportunity to make a change. In some ways, it is sad for me. This is our lifestyle for a reason. Yeah, it's easy to cook every meal at home right now while I on break, but when I am working 40-60 hours a week... taking a break on weekends is nice. The saving grace is that Marc is learning to cook and getting pretty good. He can much more easily share the burden now.

     So, instead of finding my comfort in not having to plan a meal, in being able to enjoy a cayenne  tortilla wrapped burrito from Freebirds, I am learning to find joy in creativity and the comforts that certain foods bring me. I've experimented this week. I made baked chicken strips coated in crumbs of Tiana's favorite cereal (Gorilla Munch), and then, when I realized we didn't have any barbecue sauce, I quickly whipped up some of my own. I was able to give it just enough kick, and I loved it. That brings me joy.  Tonight, we had pasta - Marc's request - but I added my own little touches. I kicked the arrabiata sauce up a notch with some diced fire roasted tomatoes and green chiles. I made homemade croutons for the salad. 

     I could choose to be sad that we have to change our lifestyle. I could choose to be angry that there are so many people who can afford to spend $100 a week on fast food without going into debt. 

OR...  I could remember that I am among the wealthiest 5% in the entire world. Yes, you read that correctly. Recent figures show that the median income, when examining the entire world, is just $1,225 a year. The 1% figure in the U.S has come to mean all sorts of things and have all sorts of negative connotations, but when you look at what the 1% is on a global level -- well, most of my friends and family members are probably pretty close; the wealthiest 1% in the world take home $136,000 or more. Yes, here in California... that's pays for a house, two cars, and leaves a small budget for spending, but that is wealth to the world. While Marc and I aren't in that 1%...  I know we must be in the top five. How's that for perspective?  

     It's all on how you look at things. Is it strange that... after getting a "low balance alert" on my checking account today... my heart was just filled with gratitude at how fortunate I am?  I truly am blessed. 

  

     

Thursday, January 3, 2013

The road to freedom...

     .... is paved with Craigslist ads. 

 In the past two weeks, we, as a family, have made tremendous progress towards less stuff and more happiness.  We've sold several hundred dollars worth of stuff. I've been using a chopstick to shove more and more money into my happiness bottle.  When it gets too full to shove any more money in, I'm going to break it and pay off a credit card. 

Even Vinny has made great progress. De-cluttering is really difficult for him because de-cluttering involves moving stuff and making somewhat of a mess in the process of sorting. Vinny hates mess more than anything.  The irony is that what he had in his room was a huge mess, but he didn't see it that way because it was out of the way (I think I have said this exact same thing about Marc in the past... I have recollections of helping him move out of his room and into our apartment and discovering that, although he maintained appearances of tidiness, a mess lay hidden underneath). Vinny had a corner of his room where he had just tossed anything and everything. Backpacks, papers, random little toys and party favors, "books" he had made.  You name it, it had been shoved in his corner.  After many tears, we got through that one corner. He sold a bunch of stuff and threw away a bunch of stuff. He still has hundreds of toys in there that he hasn't played with in years, but we are taking it one step at a time. He is only about 7% of the way to his goal of buying a MacBook, but he gets excited about his progress every time he sells something, which is at least once a day, which is good. He gets positive reinforcement for the emotional distress that de-cluttering causes him. I have been encouraging him by letting him play with my Mac when I'm not using it.  He has become amazingly adept at computers in a very short amount of time.  Last night, he was playing with photobooth, and suddenly iTunes comes on, specifically, my reggae playlist.  "Did you mean to do that?"I ask. 
  
  "Yup. I'm on an island. Need background music," he replies. He is just too funny.

       Even Marc is making great progress. It seems that every day he appears with an arm full of stuff that I didn't even realize he had.  "Where are you getting all this stuff?" I asked one day. 
   
 "Boxes," he replied.  Hmm. Okay. I thought I was painfully aware of all the boxes of clutter and what they contained, but I guess there were more I didn't know about.
 
     By the fourth or fifth new load of stuff, I finally asked, "Where are these boxes hidden and how many more of them are there?"  

      "The garage, and I am pretty sure that's the last one." Time will tell, I suppose. 

      I am trying to tackle it all one room at a time right now, with the intention of returning to each room for another round after the first round of each room is done.  I've done the first round of Vinny's room, my room, one of two bathrooms, and the bookshelf. I really need to go through the toy box in the living room, but its such a mess that I've been avoiding it.  Baby steps.  With a few baby steps each day, we really are making progress. 

      This year, we really are serious about paying off debt and living within our means. I know that, in order to really feel free, this is the answer, but at first it is hard.  It means redefining a lot of how we live.  It means not buying fast food just because it is convenient or because we don't feel like eating leftovers for lunch for the third day in a row.  Instead, I am trying to get creative with leftovers and finding ways to stretch what is in our refrigerator.  It is a change, but we are up to the challenge.  

    When I was looking over our finances in December, I was really depressed. This month, I looked at it with a more positive attitude, and I looked carefully at our credit card statements.  I realized that Vinny's dance class had triple charged us for two months in a row.  I contacted them and got all that money credited back, which was great.  I also realized that we had paid nearly $200 for Green Day tickets for a show in Vegas. We were planning on making a prolonged date night out of it, but the show has been postponed with no date rescheduled yet. Who knows if the date they end up choosing will end up working with our busy schedule, and besides that, we cannot really afford a trip to Vegas with hotel costs and gas and food. I decided to see if I could get a refund. Fortunately, they were able to refund the  tickets. Yea! More credit towards our account.  

  With careful planning and shifting to a lifestyle of true frugality for a while, I believe we can be debt free by the end of 2013. 

      For now, I leave you with how Vinny's "adventures."


"Look, Mommy!  Two Vinnys and they are mad at each other."
   

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Vinny needs 50 sponsors!

I hate shameless promotion, so I will say it like it is... Vinny needs 50 sponsors for his performance in Peter Pan.  Click here to read more.

Monday, December 24, 2012

What 2012 has taught me...

2012 has taught me that...


  • Happiness is a choice. 
  • Gratitude is far more powerful than I ever imagined.
  • Not all friendships last forever. Even the ones you really think will. But that's okay. Live in the moment. 
  • Money cannot buy happiness, but it can buy sanity. 
  • It is possible for my children to be exactly like me and nothing like me all at once. 
  • Students remember everything I say, even stuff I don't remember I said. Sometimes, it is the stuff I felt was the most inconsequential that makes the biggest difference in their lives.
  • Graduate school is not just more credits. It is exponentially harder than my undergraduate education. 
  • Speaking up for what you think is right is all well and good, but sometimes, if you really want to make a difference, you just have to learn when to keep your mouth shut. 
  • Solo parenting is really, really, really hard. Single moms have my utmost respect. 
  • No one on this earth loves me more than my mother.
  • Nothing in my life is more important than my children. 

Sunday, December 23, 2012

My Annual Introspection - Thoughts on Freedom

This post has taken me days and much thought.  I've been editing and adding for almost a week now. This must be somewhat monumental in my life, I suppose, or I would not be putting so much thought into just writing it down.

So here goes...

Each year, I do my own version of new years resolutions by setting goals for myself. I started this in 2009. Since 2010, I added a step. Before I set these goals for myself, I look back to prior goals to see how I am doing.  Interestingly enough, it has been amazing to see how I have changed and how I have stayed the same.

My life has changed a lot. In 2009, my goal was to get involved in church and make more friends. That is almost humorous to me now. My goal last year was like the exact the opposite. Less quantity. More quality. And even though we joined a new church in 2011, my goal for 2012 was to somehow manage to stay as uninvolved as possible to be a good mom, good wife, good student, and good teacher.  My friendships have changed significantly. Life is different.

In 2012, I set only TWO goals.
1.  Resist the urge to plan a vacation this year to save up for one next year.
2. Simplify.

The anti-vacation plan...
failed. We actually ended up going on a vacation this year, the cruise with Marc's family, but it worked out okay. I don't regret it. Financially, 2013 is still not going to be a year for a big vacation, and I am okay with that.  We live in a vacation destination. There is something to be said for staycationing.

The quest for the simple life...
 has really just begun. What a journey. My objective was all about, as Graham Hill put it in his TED talk, "Less Stuff, More Happiness." I began to buy into the anti-consumerism mindset towards the end of 2011, and I am finding it is not a quick change, it truly is a journey, which we have begun. I found a great blog called "Becoming minimalist," and they truly got it right with the title.  Becoming. We consciously avoided extra junk this past year and got rid of a lot. I am finding that we have miles to go, but we got off to a good start this year.

Our lives got simpler in other ways too. We cancelled cable and have used only Roku and Netflix. When the TV is on in our home, it means we have watched less television and thought much more intentionally about what to watch. We listen to internet radio from Hawaii on the tv more than we actually watch tv. This has been a good change. Marc came home the other day saying that the cable company could increase our internet speed and give us digital cable again for only $7 more than we are currently paying. While I am glad to hear that they have come to their senses and brought prices down, my response to Marc was, "Why would we want cable again?"  He had some good points, but ultimately, I think I own with one argument.

"When you really look back on the past year, do you honestly think to yourself, 'Gosh, I wish we'd watched more television?'"  

If you have ever thought about canceling cable, I highly encourage it. We are happier and more productive.

The Happiness Advantage

Speaking of happiness... 2012 was the year of the happiness advantage. In the beginning of 2012, a student introduced me to a video about the happiness advantage, and I subsequently bought the book and bought into the notion of positive psychology and its benefits for my life. The beauty is -- I am not a naturally optimistic person. I may not be inherently positive, but positive psychology is all about training our brains to look at the positive, even when it doesn't naturally. The results have been remarkable. I am more resilient. I am more productive. I find evidence of this in the little things.  I bounce back quicker from disappointments. I finished my grades earlier this semester than I have ever finished them, despite having more last minute grading than usual.

I was looking back on last December's blog posts particularly early December, and I saw that I made comments like, "Life is eating me alive," and "I cannot wait until December 16th."  I was counting down the alarm clocks until Christmas.  I was having immense trouble getting through the grading, as well as just getting up and out the door each day.  This year, I didn't feel like that at all, although my CSUN classes were harder, and the semester stretched out longer. We didn't get out until the 20th this year, but I was not counting down alarm clocks. I woke up early the last week of school and managed to get to school in time to get grading in before school. Mood impacts more than I ever realized... and it is easier to change than I realize too.  If this intrigues you, I highly recommend Shawn Achor's book (and no, I don't get paid to endorse it -- you have my word -- but I am including a link to help you find it, just to be helpful).
http://www.amazon.com/Happiness-Advantage-Principles-Psychology-Performance/dp/0307591549


My goal for 2013 is really just taking "simplify" to the next step:
Collect Experiences, Not Stuff
I watched another great TED talk, by a guy named Adam Baker who, along with his wife and toddler, sold all of material possessions and spent a year backpacking around the world. He asked this great question, "What does freedom mean to you?"

That is really an interesting question. For him, freedom meant backpacking around the world. His point though is - What do you really want to do with your life?  What stops you from doing it?  In many cases, it is the pursuit of stuff.

So true.  Freedom is really what "The Buried Life" poem and tv show are all about. Tracking our true original course. My course, as much as my teenage self would not believe it, is not traveling the whole world. But I do want freedom. I desperately want freedom and plan to pursue it with reckless abandon this year. I want the freedom to have less to clean and organize. I want the freedom to dig through less stuff to find what I want in my house. I want the freedom to spend my time off of school pursuing happiness. I want to be able to spend a month in Costa Rica in language school. I want to take Vinny to see shows on Broadway.

The key to this is going to be...
- living incredibly frugally to pay off our debts
- selling at least half of what we own
- using the proceeds to pay off debt

Again, really, it is "Less stuff, more happiness." Convincing Marc to emotionally detach from his possessions has taken some doing, but really, we are happy as a family sharing a tiny cabin on a cruise ship, with only our suitcases full of stuff. We do not need stuff. He is starting to see this too.

What we do need is to be free from debt.  Less debt = more happiness.

So, we have begun the task of selling our stuff.  In order to discipline ourselves, Marc and I both agreed that there needed to be some jar or something that would not be easy for us to take money out of, so that each time we sell something, we put the money in the jar and then eventually take the full jar to the bank.  Worried that we would try to take the money out, I thought about gluing a spaghetti jar shut and cutting a whole in it or something, but I came up with a better solution.

A close friend bought me this bottle of wine on a trip.  She saw the wine was called "Project Happiness" and thought of me.  I was touched.  When we finished the wine, I just couldn't throw the bottle away. I knew it had some purpose.

Did you know that, if you roll up a dollar, it is really easy to get it in a wine bottle?  But not all possible to get it out?  Yup. Perfect solution.  When the bottle is full, we will break it and pay down a credit card.  For now, each dollar is a step closer to happiness.








Sunday, December 16, 2012

Processing the CT events, as a teacher and a mom

      With a full teaching day on Friday, the events in Connecticut seemed an impossible nightmare until later in the day as I was able to watch the news and process all of it.  My initial reaction was to put myself in the role of the teachers. I found myself imagining those teachers, alerted to a threat, vigilantly aware of the limits of their own classrooms, eager to protect their children... because I have been in their shoes.
     Ironically, I spent an hour and a half last Friday afternoon on lockdown in my own school because of a threat that someone nearby had a weapon. This probably sounds scary to you, it was oddly just irritating to me, as real lockdowns (not drills) are fairly commonplace in the community where I teach. Our school is very safe, but the community is overrun with gang violence. We often end up on lockdown just because of police pursuing a suspect or a perceived threat nearby.

      Three years ago, when I moved into my new classroom, I was delighted with the beautiful windows that make up 75% of my wall space. The students' first question on the first day of school that year was, "What are we going to do in a lockdown?"  In a lockdown, it is common practice to get away from all the windows, ideally to a corner of the room that cannot be seen from the windows or door, and to turn off all the lights, essentially hiding from whatever threat may be outside. In my room, there is no light to turn off -- the room is flooded with sunlight -- and there is no corner that cannot be seen. The only real solution, in the situation of a genuine threat, is to hide in the bathroom and storage room. It would be tight, but we'd all fit. I've thought about it plenty of times. My bathroom and storage room automatically lock and can only be opened with a key (which is irritating when the kids forget to leave the door stopper in during the day, but somewhat comforting given the recent events). We'd be fairly safe.

     And sure enough, that is what the teachers did that awful Friday morning. Who knows how many precious lives were saved by teachers' quick thinking. As the stories emerge, it is clear that many of these teachers did exactly what I would have done -- shoved all their kids in the bathroom and prayed for the best. For one class, that wasn't good enough. In one of the classrooms, from what I have heard, a group of the victims was found huddled together in the bathroom. I'd imagine first grade bathrooms don't lock securely like mine. The poor teacher did the best she could. But she died there with her babies.

     For a teacher, your students are like your own kids, so given that I heard about the event at school, and that I am a teacher, and that it was at a school, it makes sense that my first thoughts were of the teachers.

     But as it sunk in, and details surfaced, that the vast majority of the victims were little first graders, like my own precious son, my thoughts went to those mothers. It is so horrific, I cannot even imagine. One of the students' last week asked me what my biggest fear is. I answered, "Losing my children." A friend of my cousin, an online friend of mine, lost her child a week ago. I felt sick to my stomach when I thought of the pain she must be in. It is truly my biggest fear. I truly could not imagine.

 Then, Saturday morning, I watched an interview with a priest who knew many of the families. He talked about when he spoke with the parents, and that one of the little girls was going to be an angel in their Christmas pageant. And that, while they were speaking, one mom's phone beeped to remind her to bring her son to cub scouts, and she realized that she would never bring him to cub scouts again. And then... it hit home. I could imagine.

    Do you know how many alerts I have set in my phone for Vinny?  I could imagine the absolute pain of that mom.

      And then, our church had our Christmas pageant this morning. In the prayers at the beginning, they read each of the victims names and ages, so many of them 6 years old, just like Vinny. I cried quietly and prayed for that mom, who's daughter would not take the stage this weekend. I could not get that mom out of my head. As my son took the stage with his friends (some of whom he has known since he was two-years-old), to tell the story of our savior, I had a really hard time keeping it together. I don't think I was the only one. When our precious babies sang the final words of Away in a Manger, "Bless all the dear children in thy tender care and fit us for heaven to live with thee there," I don't think there was a dry-eyed parent in that church.

      Although Christmas is so often a reminder of the beauty of this world and the greatness of humanity, this year, it is truly a reminder of humanity's brokenness too. As we think of Mary, giving birth to a baby boy who would redeem our souls, its a reminder of the sacrifice that Mary made too. This Christmas, I think we'll all see our children as the blessings they truly are.



Wednesday, December 12, 2012

An Overview of My Fall

To my blog readers...
(whoever you are)
I know it has been a long time since I have blogged. Painfully long. I think so long that the thought of me catching up has almost kept me from blogging, if that makes any sense at all. (Writing that incidentally reminds me of how I used to apologize to my diary in high school when I would forget to write for a long time.  That's kind of funny. What's not funny is that I cannot find my old high school diaries.  :/  I know they are somewhere). 

As busy as I have been though, I feel like I have achieved some peace and balance in my life this fall. I have spent a lot of time with my children and my family, and even more time with my friends than I would have thought possible with this schedule.  This has all felt really good, and I am proud of myself. 

Mickey's Halloween Party
Even in the midst of tech week for the play in October, we managed to pull of some cool stuff. A friend of ours had something come up last minute and couldn't use her tickets to the Halloween party at Disneyland, so we accepted them last minute and went. What a special, special gift!  When Marc called me that day to see if I wanted go, I knew we didn't technically have plans that evening, and that I wasn't totally behind on homework, so even though a huge part of the responsible adult in me said, "What the heck are you doing? It is a weeknight. You are a mother of a small child and a school age child. You are a graduate student with homework to do. You are a teacher with papers to grade. You are a sleep deprived director in the middle of tech week," a little voice inside me reminded me of reading an entry in a journal I wrote my freshman year of college. The journal was about what I hoped to find in a husband someday. I wanted someone spontaneous and fun.  Because that is what I wanted in life.  Here I was, with my spontaneous and fun husband offering me a spontaneous and fun outing that we could never afford on our own. The little voice one.  So we went. It was super fun. Not at all crowded, and a really cute way to spend Halloween. The kids were delighted. Normally, Disneyland is this long stressful day when you go with two kids, but for some reason, dragging two little ones around until midnight was not at all stressful. I think it was the spontaneity of it, if that makes any sense. (It doesn't, I know).  

My daughter and my niece trick or treating
This Halloween turned out to be really cool too (I mean the 31st), in that it reminded me of when I was a kid. I grew up in a neighborhood where, until I was a teenager, trick or treating was a big deal. Everyone in the neighborhood got in on it. Plus, I was friends with a lot of kids in my neighborhood, so all our moms would get together and we'd all go around the neighborhood together. There was a wide age range, with my sister being the youngest (who is six years younger than me) and me being the oldest, and the other 7-10 kids or so who would join us each year usually ranged somewhere in between. We'd go running around the neighborhood with our parents yelling at us to stay out of the street and not to get too far ahead. My sister would get scared of someone jumping out of a bush or something and go sprinting down the street with my mom tailing after. It is a miracle we all survived and all ended up back at home together at the end of each Halloween night. That is pretty much how it went this year. We invited Vinny and some of his friends and their families and siblings and my sister and her daughter. We all had a mini potluck dinner at my house (which meant I hosted like 20 people for dinner... on Halloween... during tech week.... how do I do this stuff? I haven't a clue) and then set out trick or treating. Our neighborhood is one of the few in town where it is still like it was when I was a kid. With the first graders running from door to door and the toddlers running in and out of the wagon, its was again a miracle that we stayed mostly together. It was a fun night that I will always remember.  
In November, my musical, Quilt, ran for two weekends, and my kids made me so incredibly proud. I literally cried in every performance. What a beautiful tribute this show was to the lives and legacies of those lost to AIDS. They made such an impact. I know that my school community will never look at AIDS the same again, plus, it taught my kids so much. Compassion, perseverance, professionalism. In addition, I think this group has become a family in a way I haven't had a group grow together since Go Ask Alice, which was back in 2009.  What a special year. This group will truly hold a special place in my heart for many years to come. 





For Thanksgiving this year, we did something completely and totally different -- we went on a cruise. Marc's family has been trying to coordinate this one for years. The last time that it was looking like it was going to work out was in 2009, but we cancelled it at the last minute and all agreed that we would for sure go the next year.  Then I got pregnant and realized that there was going to be no cruising with a newborn. This was the first year Tiana was old enough to go, so I agreed and we planned it and went.  I have to say that cruising with a two year old is much different from cruising with a three year old. Vinny loved it and was rather amiable. Tiana was... a handful; however, we still had a really good time. I had a lot of time to lay around and read and watch Vinny swim and stuff like that. Plus, on the last night of the cruise, I got to perform on stage with the Carnival Legends show.  They dressed me up like Gloria Estefan and I performed "Rhythm is Gonna Get You." Time of my life. So much fun. Rejuvenating for sure, but also reminded me how much I miss the stage. The theatre bug is an interesting virus. Once you catch it, you've got it for life. It can sit dormant for periods, but when it occasionally flares up, the symptoms are intense. (Those of you who have been bitten by the theatre bug will know exactly what I am talking about, particularly if you have ever had to spend extended periods of time off the stage).  
 


Yes, this is my two year old sipping a tropical beverage at a resort on the beach.
That's just how we roll, I suppose.
Overall, spending my Thanksgiving week in semi-tropical weather and having my toes in the sand multiple times throughout the week was just what the doctor ordered. Beach sand (enjoyable only when combined with beach sun) is like food for my soul, and I often will spend long stretches of the fall and winter deprived of this joy, so a late November blast was perfect for me. Tiana is truly a girl after my own heart in this way. She was a handful on the boat, but on the beach, she is a delight. 

I've spent the past few weeks since trying to survive crunch time at grad school and at work. I've been doing crunch time study sessions for my students on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I've had a room full of kids reading, doing extra credit activities, and getting tutoring in their writing. It has been worth the time though. One student who just never really got narrative writing back when we did it in August came in two weeks ago to ask how she could improve her grade. Since she hadn't turned in that assignment, I talked to her about it and she just totally had a mental block on writing about herself.  I've been in her boat (not about narrative writing actually, but about fiction. When I had to write fiction during my senior year of college, I felt like I was going to die), so I tried to understand and get her started. It was a long process. After literally 8 hours of working, she finally finished a narrative essay today. It was only a C, but that C felt like a badge of honor for both of us. 

On Tuesdays, some of my drama students and I have been working with a professor at the local university. We received a community partnership grant for a fashion design class to make costumes for our upcoming production of Much Ado About Nothing. Many of my students have been going weekly to work with the students since September. I am proud of them and the results are really cool. When they did their presentations yesterday, I could tell that the university students learned a lot too. For most of them, this was the first time that they had ever made something that an actual person would wear. For a fashion design student, that is kind of a big deal. 
This is about half of the costumes. Gonna be a fun spring. 


Today, was also a very special day. My cousin Brenda, who is really more like an older sibling to me, got married. Sadly, I didn't get to share this special moment with her, but they decided to do it very personal -- very them. They got married on the beach in Hawaii on 12-12-12. Very romantic. We celebrated her joy with a small bachelorette party and bridal shower this past month. They were small special affairs in which we celebrated, well, the end of an era and the beginning of a new one. 
For me, this is an interesting feeling. It's like there are no single women left in my immediate family. We've all started our own families. We all belong to others now. I feel like I've waited for this for Brenda for forever. Since before I was even a teenager, I felt like I was imagining Brenda's wedding, even more than my own (that's weird, I know).  And now it has happened. The queen of far off exotic places has gotten hitched in a far off exotic place. I couldn't be happier for her.   :-)