Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Who needs a summer vacation when you can go on a guilt trip?
My apologies to my mass of followers, I'm sure you've all been waiting on pins and needles for my next blog post, and here it is, almost 10 months later. Sorry.
I hate feeling guilty. Thing is, I'm also very good at it. I hate letting people down, no matter the reason. I hate to think about the people that I let down without even realizing it... it's a terrible thought. I also have a tendency to feel guilty about things that I have absolutely no control over, and things that I shouldn't feel guilty about. Today's problem? Meredith got into the preschool that I wanted her to get into.
So WHY is this a problem? Well, I had her registered for a WONDERFUL program already, the same one that the boys went through and they LOVED it. It's fun, it's cheap (relatively speaking), and the teachers rock. I wanted to try to get her into another program where she could get her speech therapy in class, making one less place that I'd have to take her to in the course of the week (between school, occupational therapy and speech, this soon-to-be four year old had something going on 5 days a week, not counting any of the other things that she would like to do, like dance). So yes, it was a total convenience thing for me... I'm not a freak-out parent who thinks that a preschool program can make or break a kid (if they're having fun in a structured environment and they happen to learn things too, that's awesome), I figure that any preschool is good for a kid. But I'm feeling guilty about leaving our beloved preschool behind. It didn't really help that I'm "friends" with the preschool director, and she LOVES Meredith. She saw me come in today and immediately knew why I was there. I felt horrible. I feel horrible. These poor teachers last year dealt with a kid that they could not understand much of what she was saying, and now I'm pulling her out of their program. I know there are kids on the waiting list that will be glad to get in (like I was with the other school), but in the mean time, I just feel like I'm letting them down.
At least I have a kid who they are sad to see go, and I don't have to feel guilty about having a nightmare child staying in their program.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Did you think I had gone the way of the do-do?
Is that even how that is spelled? Whatever, that doesn't really matter, you get the point. Nice that it takes a total stranger making a comment about a post in my blog to get me to start writing in it again. I should do it more often.
Since the title of this blog relates to running, I suppose I should write about that. I've been doing a lot of running lately. Actually, that's a lie. I DID a lot of running over the summer training for a half marathon in September, and I've been pretty lazy since. I'd never run a race any longer than a 5k, so this was a HUGE jump for me! While I was really spent by the end of my training (not to mention the race itself), I find myself looking back and missing it... so I'm now "training" (I'll use that term loosely) for a 15k the first weekend in November.
So when you're running a bigtime race, they tell you that there will be race photographers on the course and you should smile for them. They're pretty hard to miss, they're the people sitting along the course with neon yellow/green vests on with cameras. So I posed for EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. Probably not the best idea (I had visions of pics being posted where I look really great running, happy and all, but instead, I look like a total dork). But one picture that was taken of me was taken very close to the finish line. I had been running the whole race with my running buddies, Natalie and Chris, and they were in front of me. I didn't want to finish far behind them, so I poured it on with everything I had left in me and just powered through to the finish. The picture that was snapped of me: of ALL the people at the race, of ALL the photographers, the one photographer I didn't see, where I wasn't even looking at the camera, who is in the background of this picture? My mom. She was trying to take a picture of me with her phone (she missed the shot, only got my shadow), and she was in tears. Good tears. I had to buy the picture, it was that sweet of a moment.
So whether I'm running for myself, either for the mental or physical benefits, I will always have that picture in my head that I'm also doing this to make someone proud of me.
Good luck to all my marathon-ing friends on their race this upcoming weekend: I'll drink to you from poolside.
Friday, January 13, 2012
You can't make this stuff up.
You can't make this up because no one would believe it if you did. It would be like the movie Armageddon where it just keeps getting worse and worse. But at least that has Ben Affleck in it, my morning, unfortunately, did not.
So, it FINALLY snowed here yesterday. It had spit snow on occasion, so we had put 2 shovels on the side of the house, one kid one and one adult one. Yesterday, T.J. asked if he could shovel the driveway after school. Well why look a gift horse in the mouth? Of COURSE you can shovel the driveway! This was my first mistake.
I should have known that his attention span for shoveling the driveway was extremely limited. Our neighbor, Daniel, came outside, and any hope for unsupervised shoveling was lost. But I was ok with that, since I knew that it would have to be done again anyways, it was still snowing and blowing pretty hard outside. I had to go to work last night, and by the time I got home (at 9:40) I was in no mood to shovel, and again, it was still blowing and snowing quite a bit, so what the heck would be the point? Then I realize: T.J. never put the shovel back. He's left it out in the driveway, yard... somewhere. Wonderful.
Woke up this morning, not too much earlier than usual, but a bit earlier, knowing that I'd have to find (somehow) the shovel that had been left out. I went outside at 6:50 (I leave the house a couple minutes after 7am) to start my car and look for the shovel.
The car won't start. Well, it starts, but won't stay running for more than 3 seconds or so. I tried 4 times before I finally got it to stay running. Phew! That was a close one. So I close the door of the car... or at least TRY to. The lock is frozen OPEN. I can't get the door to latch shut. Fabulous. I'm slamming it, fiddling with it, you name it, I'm trying it.
Tom is now outside and trying to get the snowblower working in the garage (having about as much luck with it as I was with the car). I love how prepared we are for winter weather here. At least I knew where the kids boots and snow pants were. I go to the neighbor's house (he's out shoveling his driveway) to see if he has any lock de-icer (not that I would know where to put it if he did). Nope. He says try rubbing alcohol. I go inside (Tom is now blowing the driveway)... FINALLY, a bit of luck. We DO have almost a full bottle of rubbing alcohol! Score one for Jen... in theory.
So I go back out to my car with the door that won't close and dump a bunch of the rubbing alcohol on the handle, the latch, the thingy on the inside of the door... yeah, still doesn't work. Tom (now back inside) thinks that pouring hot water on it is a better idea. My limited knowledge of the freezing/thawing process tells me that in a cold environment, hot water gets cold before it evaporates. But I don't know, that's just me. So I'm not very pleased with the idea of pouring water on my car's lock and handle, but at this point, I'm not going to argue. If I get stuck in the iced-shut car at work a custodian or something can come help me out, right? Sure.
Did I mention that in the course of all this I find out that our travel mugs for my coffee are all dirty? Yeah.
Of course, on the way to work (which I'm now already late for) I get stopped by a train, and EVERYONE AND THEIR BROTHER has to drive their kid to school today, so I'm now stuck in traffic with all the late kids.
Miracle of miracles, I can get out of my car at school, I'm not iced in. I end up only being about 30 seconds late!
It actually gets much better from here: I explain a whole bunch of chemistry concepts that I'm only remotely familiar with but the kids seem to get what I'm saying (that's always a plus), I learn about arcs and chords in geometry, then I get to go home!
All in all a good morning, despite a crazy start. Oh, and Tom was snowblowing the rest of the driveway later and came across the shovel. Yay! Life can get crazy again in 45 minutes when the yahoos get home from school.
So, it FINALLY snowed here yesterday. It had spit snow on occasion, so we had put 2 shovels on the side of the house, one kid one and one adult one. Yesterday, T.J. asked if he could shovel the driveway after school. Well why look a gift horse in the mouth? Of COURSE you can shovel the driveway! This was my first mistake.
I should have known that his attention span for shoveling the driveway was extremely limited. Our neighbor, Daniel, came outside, and any hope for unsupervised shoveling was lost. But I was ok with that, since I knew that it would have to be done again anyways, it was still snowing and blowing pretty hard outside. I had to go to work last night, and by the time I got home (at 9:40) I was in no mood to shovel, and again, it was still blowing and snowing quite a bit, so what the heck would be the point? Then I realize: T.J. never put the shovel back. He's left it out in the driveway, yard... somewhere. Wonderful.
Woke up this morning, not too much earlier than usual, but a bit earlier, knowing that I'd have to find (somehow) the shovel that had been left out. I went outside at 6:50 (I leave the house a couple minutes after 7am) to start my car and look for the shovel.
The car won't start. Well, it starts, but won't stay running for more than 3 seconds or so. I tried 4 times before I finally got it to stay running. Phew! That was a close one. So I close the door of the car... or at least TRY to. The lock is frozen OPEN. I can't get the door to latch shut. Fabulous. I'm slamming it, fiddling with it, you name it, I'm trying it.
Tom is now outside and trying to get the snowblower working in the garage (having about as much luck with it as I was with the car). I love how prepared we are for winter weather here. At least I knew where the kids boots and snow pants were. I go to the neighbor's house (he's out shoveling his driveway) to see if he has any lock de-icer (not that I would know where to put it if he did). Nope. He says try rubbing alcohol. I go inside (Tom is now blowing the driveway)... FINALLY, a bit of luck. We DO have almost a full bottle of rubbing alcohol! Score one for Jen... in theory.
So I go back out to my car with the door that won't close and dump a bunch of the rubbing alcohol on the handle, the latch, the thingy on the inside of the door... yeah, still doesn't work. Tom (now back inside) thinks that pouring hot water on it is a better idea. My limited knowledge of the freezing/thawing process tells me that in a cold environment, hot water gets cold before it evaporates. But I don't know, that's just me. So I'm not very pleased with the idea of pouring water on my car's lock and handle, but at this point, I'm not going to argue. If I get stuck in the iced-shut car at work a custodian or something can come help me out, right? Sure.
Did I mention that in the course of all this I find out that our travel mugs for my coffee are all dirty? Yeah.
Of course, on the way to work (which I'm now already late for) I get stopped by a train, and EVERYONE AND THEIR BROTHER has to drive their kid to school today, so I'm now stuck in traffic with all the late kids.
Miracle of miracles, I can get out of my car at school, I'm not iced in. I end up only being about 30 seconds late!
It actually gets much better from here: I explain a whole bunch of chemistry concepts that I'm only remotely familiar with but the kids seem to get what I'm saying (that's always a plus), I learn about arcs and chords in geometry, then I get to go home!
All in all a good morning, despite a crazy start. Oh, and Tom was snowblowing the rest of the driveway later and came across the shovel. Yay! Life can get crazy again in 45 minutes when the yahoos get home from school.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
"Falling Back" as a parent. Whatever.
So last night we set our clocks back. I remember when the turning back of the clocks was awesome, because you could stay up an hour later. Oh, how foolish I was to think that it would always be so simple. Yeah. Babies/toddlers don't care. They just know that it's the same brightness today as it was yesterday, so they might as well get up. After all, they went to bed last night at about the same time last night because they were so tired that their mom couldn't imagine keeping them up an extra hour just to help them sleep in the morning (which I'm sure ALL of my children will achieve at some point in their lives, but I'm not holding my breath that it will happen anytime soon).
Which brings me to my other kids. I currently have a 2nd and 1st grader, both of whom know their numbers. They know the difference between a 5 and a 6. But in my husband's infinite wisdom, he let them stay up probably a half hour later than usual, and what do you know? They're up at 5:15. What's the point of having a clock in your room when you disregard what it says? When you get up and turn on the light?
I've determined that once you become a parent, the whole idea of "sleeping in" is a totally lost concept. Except maybe if you're a dad, then, for some reason, these rules don't always apply to you... but that's a whole other blog post. Even if you don't have the kids with you, your internal clock has a real problem with sleeping past a certain hour. For this house, that hour is 7:30am. Anything past 7:30 is a LUXURY.
So I much prefer the Spring "spring forward". SO much easier to deal with. You feel like a new person, saying that your kids actually slept until 7:15 (you can live in denial about the fact that it is really 6:15, the rest of us parents won't tell).
Which brings me to my other kids. I currently have a 2nd and 1st grader, both of whom know their numbers. They know the difference between a 5 and a 6. But in my husband's infinite wisdom, he let them stay up probably a half hour later than usual, and what do you know? They're up at 5:15. What's the point of having a clock in your room when you disregard what it says? When you get up and turn on the light?
I've determined that once you become a parent, the whole idea of "sleeping in" is a totally lost concept. Except maybe if you're a dad, then, for some reason, these rules don't always apply to you... but that's a whole other blog post. Even if you don't have the kids with you, your internal clock has a real problem with sleeping past a certain hour. For this house, that hour is 7:30am. Anything past 7:30 is a LUXURY.
So I much prefer the Spring "spring forward". SO much easier to deal with. You feel like a new person, saying that your kids actually slept until 7:15 (you can live in denial about the fact that it is really 6:15, the rest of us parents won't tell).
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Serious and Sad
I know that this blog is supposed to be a humorous look at my life (at least that's what it says in the title, not that my last few posts have been a reflection of that at all), I've been thinking about things for a while that I think I need to get off my chest.
Let me preface this by saying that I took a new job. I'm working as a paraprofessional (an aide, for those of you not familiar with modern school lingo) at my local high school. It's something that I'd been thinking about for a while, and I was offered the job 4 minutes into my interview, so I figured that either a), they REALLY needed a warm body, or b), my past experience as a sub with a teaching background made me qualified, or c) both a and b. Whatever the case, I applied for the job on Wednesday, interviewed the following Monday, started the job Thursday morning. It was good to be back at the school that I worked at for several years, even if many of the faces had changed (or I thought they looked familiar, but wasn't sure of exactly how). I was surprised to find out that the following day (Friday) was a day off. Sweet! One day in, then a day off. Then, the unthinkable happened.
Thursday night, when I got back from my other job (at 9:45 at night), I got on the computer to check my mail, the news, etc. from the day, since I'd been without a computer since starting work at 1pm. The top story is that a girl from a town by us had been murdered when she got home from school... she apparently walked in on a burglar in her house and was stabbed to death. She went to the high school that I now worked at. All I could think about was "did I have this girl in class today? Did I see her in the hallway? If I didn't, what students that I work with did?"
They haven't charged anyone with this horrific crime yet. The monster that did this is still out there, somewhere. Yes, I know that bad people are out there, I'm not so naive as to think that bad things can't happen to people that don't deserve it. But I've never been close enough to an event like this (luckily) to really have to stop and think about this and what it's done to this community, to these kids.
Yesterday was the first day back at school since Kelli was murdered. It was a bad day. There was a memorial outside the building with candles, flowers, and the like. There were news trucks with TV cameras aimed at the school for shots of "the first day back." There were lots of extra counselors, social workers, etc. Everyone was wearing black. What should have been a fun day of silly costumes and makeup was a day of mourning. Some kids were bawling, some just sniffling, and others just stared blankly into nothing... it was the elephant in the room that people didn't want to talk about, but you couldn't dismiss that it was there. I didn't quite know how I fit into all this, because there I was, on my 2nd day of work, having to deal with kids that I didn't really know (and they didn't know me) in one of the most vulnerable moments of their lives.
The monster that did this to that girl didn't just kill that girl. He invaded the lives of everyone in this community. Teenagers have so much to deal with already, it's a horrible shame that they now have to deal with this too. I hope that they catch whoever did this and hold him (or her) responsible. However, he didn't just murder an innocent girl: he has unleashed a terrible demon into the lives of everyone in this community, and I hope that sometime down the road that's a debt that repaid too.
Let me preface this by saying that I took a new job. I'm working as a paraprofessional (an aide, for those of you not familiar with modern school lingo) at my local high school. It's something that I'd been thinking about for a while, and I was offered the job 4 minutes into my interview, so I figured that either a), they REALLY needed a warm body, or b), my past experience as a sub with a teaching background made me qualified, or c) both a and b. Whatever the case, I applied for the job on Wednesday, interviewed the following Monday, started the job Thursday morning. It was good to be back at the school that I worked at for several years, even if many of the faces had changed (or I thought they looked familiar, but wasn't sure of exactly how). I was surprised to find out that the following day (Friday) was a day off. Sweet! One day in, then a day off. Then, the unthinkable happened.
Thursday night, when I got back from my other job (at 9:45 at night), I got on the computer to check my mail, the news, etc. from the day, since I'd been without a computer since starting work at 1pm. The top story is that a girl from a town by us had been murdered when she got home from school... she apparently walked in on a burglar in her house and was stabbed to death. She went to the high school that I now worked at. All I could think about was "did I have this girl in class today? Did I see her in the hallway? If I didn't, what students that I work with did?"
They haven't charged anyone with this horrific crime yet. The monster that did this is still out there, somewhere. Yes, I know that bad people are out there, I'm not so naive as to think that bad things can't happen to people that don't deserve it. But I've never been close enough to an event like this (luckily) to really have to stop and think about this and what it's done to this community, to these kids.
Yesterday was the first day back at school since Kelli was murdered. It was a bad day. There was a memorial outside the building with candles, flowers, and the like. There were news trucks with TV cameras aimed at the school for shots of "the first day back." There were lots of extra counselors, social workers, etc. Everyone was wearing black. What should have been a fun day of silly costumes and makeup was a day of mourning. Some kids were bawling, some just sniffling, and others just stared blankly into nothing... it was the elephant in the room that people didn't want to talk about, but you couldn't dismiss that it was there. I didn't quite know how I fit into all this, because there I was, on my 2nd day of work, having to deal with kids that I didn't really know (and they didn't know me) in one of the most vulnerable moments of their lives.
The monster that did this to that girl didn't just kill that girl. He invaded the lives of everyone in this community. Teenagers have so much to deal with already, it's a horrible shame that they now have to deal with this too. I hope that they catch whoever did this and hold him (or her) responsible. However, he didn't just murder an innocent girl: he has unleashed a terrible demon into the lives of everyone in this community, and I hope that sometime down the road that's a debt that repaid too.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
So it's official
I'm venturing out into uncharted territory in my life: church shopping. I've never had to do this before, never even thought about it, as a matter of fact. But, the time has come that I'm at that point in my life where I need to do it. It hurts to do it. It's like I'm betraying an old friend: I was brought up in this church, confirmed in this church, traveled the country with this church, was married in this church, and had all three of my kids baptized at this church... but it really doesn't feel like this church is my church anymore. And that makes me sad.
So how does one go about finding a new church? There are SO many questions that I don't even know how to start. I would like some place that's local, so I don't have to travel a ton to get there. But should I stay with someplace that's within the Methodist Church? Do I have to? Can I go to another denomination? I don't know the answer to any of these questions. Truth be told, I'm not sure if I'll be able to find a "church home" after 30+ years with one church being my home.
I want my kids to have a church to call "home" the way that I did. With Tom being a non-practicing Catholic, I'm the one that has to do this for them. I hope that I can find a place that they like to go to and WANT to go to.
The strangest part of this whole experience for me is how all-consuming it is. I'm not sure WHY that is, because I've not thought myself to be all that religious... but I almost feel as if I was betrayed by my family, and that's why I need to leave. The way I told it to a friend was that I feel like a sheep without a flock. I don't so much need a good shepard right now, but a flock would be nice.
So how does one go about finding a new church? There are SO many questions that I don't even know how to start. I would like some place that's local, so I don't have to travel a ton to get there. But should I stay with someplace that's within the Methodist Church? Do I have to? Can I go to another denomination? I don't know the answer to any of these questions. Truth be told, I'm not sure if I'll be able to find a "church home" after 30+ years with one church being my home.
I want my kids to have a church to call "home" the way that I did. With Tom being a non-practicing Catholic, I'm the one that has to do this for them. I hope that I can find a place that they like to go to and WANT to go to.
The strangest part of this whole experience for me is how all-consuming it is. I'm not sure WHY that is, because I've not thought myself to be all that religious... but I almost feel as if I was betrayed by my family, and that's why I need to leave. The way I told it to a friend was that I feel like a sheep without a flock. I don't so much need a good shepard right now, but a flock would be nice.
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