Changes

For the twenty-two years, I have been proud to teach and coach at my school.  When I was hired in 1994, I was a new teacher, with just a year's experience.  Now, I am a seasoned veteran who has had the opportunity to learn and grow with amazing colleagues.  For the past four years, I have served as the literacy coach in my building, working alongside teachers to solve problems of practice and to figure out how to best serve our students.

This year, I've struggled.  I've cried.  I've thought and thought and thought about what should be the next steps in my career.  I talked to my principal.  I talked to my friends.  I talked to Dan.  And through all of this crying and talking and thinking, I figured out that coaching is not for me.  I think it important work.  It is hard work.  It is work I can do well.  But it is not work that brings me joy.

Ultimately,  I realized I felt very isolated.  Though I work with teachers all day, I am not part of a team of teachers who are working together toward a common goal.  I need that collegiality.  I desperately miss working with a classroom of children.  Kids and teammates bring energy and joy to my work.

So I am returning to the classroom in the fall, but not as a middle school teacher.  I am moving to one of our elementary buildings where I will be teaching third grade.  THIRD GRADE!!!!  I can hardly believe it!  I'm so excited about this new adventure.  I have so much to learn!  So many books to read! So many things to think about!

So wish me luck... it's going to be a wild ride.

Stuck

Tonight I drove to the high school to pick my daughter up from a tech rehearsal.  That is not unusual.  She enjoys doing crew for various productions, and I'm glad she's found a group of kids who appreciate her quirkiness and her strong work ethic.

What was unusual is that I was stuck in the car waiting for her without my phone or a book.  I had nothing to read.  I had to just sit there and listen to the radio for a good ten minutes.  For some people, that would be no big deal.  For me, it was torture.  I'm a person who pulls a book out of my purse when I get stuck for a freight train.  I am almost NEVER without some text to put my eyes on.

As I sat there being disgruntled about being bored, I did think about how perhaps I could spend these few alone minutes thinking about something productive, something that I might need to make a decision about or perhaps take action on.

But no.  I just sat there.  And wished I had my book.

House Into Home

Since moving into the new house, I have been slowly making this place mine.  I've spent far too many hours trolling Pinterest, looking for ideas that fit my style and watching too much HGTV.  I'll even admit to subscribing to HGTV magazine after reading it for free through my local library.

It was on Pinterest that I found my favorite paint color, which now graces the walls of our living room (Guilford Green by Benjamin Moore).  I found the bookshelves that sit on either side of our living room window on the IKEA website (also a treasure trove of design ideas).  I've learned to embrace pattern by watching Property Brothers and Fixer Upper.

Most of the things I want to do in my house, however, have to wait a bit.  My kitchen needs an overhaul, but I can live with it for now.  The entryway and the family room could use a fresh coat of paint.  I'd love to redo the master bath.  I have a feeling new siding will come before any of these other things.

But really, I'm content to curl up in my house-that-is-now-a-home and pin and clip and dream while knowing that what really makes my house my home are the people (and dog) who live here with me.

Cheaters

Ten years ago I had LASIK so that I would no longer have to wear glasses to correct my horrible nearsightedness.  It was not a decision I made lightly, given that I am an avid reader and one of my biggest fears is losing my eyesight altogether.

While doing the tests to see if I would be a good candidate for the surgery, my eye surgeon explained that LASIK does not stop the eye from aging, and that I would notice a loss of my close vision in my early forties.

I'd have to wear cheaters.

Sure enough, it happened.  At first, I only needed them in dark restaurants or when I was tired.  It was hard to find cheap reading glasses with minimal magnification.  Now, though, I find I need them almost all the time, even when I'm chopping vegetables for dinner.  I think I might need to invest in good reading glasses that are bifocals - no prescription on top and magnification on the bottom.

I've taken to wearing my cheaters on a string around my neck because I was constantly setting them down and forgetting where I left them.  I take them off and put them on over and over again all day.  I'm resisting getting a good pair because gosh darn it... I paid a lot of money to not have to wear glasses all the time!

I know I can't stop the march of time when it comes to aging.  And really, I am proud of the wisdom I've earned over the years.  I feel more confident and sure of myself at 47 than I ever did when I was younger.  I've built a good life with my husband and have two kids who amaze and delight me (most of the time).

In the grand scheme of things, reading glasses are really NBD.

Right?

Saying Goodbye

Last night I said goodbye.  After six years, it was time to close the book on this particular relationship, though I can't say the people and their stories will ever really leave my mind.

I said goodbye with some laughter and many tears, but with no regret for the time I've invested.

I said goodbye.

Yes, yes... I said goodbye to a fictional family living in the past.  I said goodbye to over-the-top drama. But it was so, so, good.

When I look back over the six seasons of Downton, I think my favorite character is Violet, the Dowager Countess, played by Maggie Smith.  She always had the best zingers, and her timing and delivery were flawless.  I'll miss seeing her tangle with Mrs. Crawley, waiting to see who would get the last word.

Perfectly, it was Violet who had the last word in the whole series.

As a HUGE fan of historical fiction, this series was right up my alley.  I was hooked from the very first episode, and I've watched all of the seasons except for this last one multiple times.  Each time I watch, I notice something new, some nuance of expression that I missed during the first viewing.  I love Julian Fellowes's writing (mostly, as some storylines dragged on a bit too long) and the way he creates characters that are not all good or all evil, but are well rounded and relatable.

So now I need to get myself all six seasons so I can binge watch to my heart's content.  I really need never leave that world completely behind.

Sunday

I try my best to do everything I HAVE to do on Saturdays so that on Sundays I can just chill and relax and read and nap and generally just take care of me.  I was mostly successful this weekend. I did have to go to the grocery store today and do the last two loads of laundry left from yesterday, but other than that, I have been hanging on the sofa with Rehab Addict on in the background, writing and scheduling blog posts for my other blog, Next Best Book.

It's quiet here today; both kids are up in their rooms doing homework and tidying up.  My guess is that Abby is drawing and watching YouTube videos, too.  That's ok, since she doesn't have school tomorrow and can get her homework finished then.  Before too long, I'll probably hear Molly's violin as she gets some practice time in.  Dan is in the other room, reading.  I heard the guitar a while ago, but I don't any more.  If I walked in there, I might just catch him dozing, his iPad on his chest.

It's still to cold to do much in the yard too early to plant much of anything.  Spring will really be here soon and Sundays will be busier with cleaning out the garage and working in the yard.  For now, I'm going to be happy just being lazy.

A Change of Scenery

This time last year, Dan and I were working hard to get our house ready to list.  When the big day finally arrived, we were nervous.  What if it didn't sell?  What if we couldn't find a new house in our price range?  What if?  What if?  What if?

I really, really needed to get out of our old house.  It was too small for the four of us, and we were always on top of each other.  We didn't really have anywhere to just be and have our own space.  Because I had grown to intensely dislike our house, I didn't take much interest in caring for it or keeping it neat and tidy.

Now, a year later, we've sold, bought, and moved.  We purged and purged and purged.  It's been about 9 months and most of the boxes are unpacked and things have PLACES.  The kids tend to keep their things in their rooms so the shared living spaces aren't so messy!

Complete with a white picket fence!

Now I don't mind spending an hour or two on Saturday morning to tidy, dust, and vacuum.  I like puttering and going to HomeGoods to find something cute to hang on a wall or to display on the bookshelves.  I like coming home and sitting in my beautiful Guilford Green living room and reading.

It's amazing what a change of scenery can do for a person.

Waiting

Today it snowed.  I was not happy about this development.  I do not believe in March snow (though I should, given I live in northern Illinois).

Imagine my happiness when I saw this:

THIS is more like it.  I can deal with Friday's 37 if it means a warm up is on the way.

By this time of year, I am completely OVER winter.  The gray days.  The slush.  The salt-covered cars.  My dry, dry skin.  I am ready for sun, for warmth, for longer days that move me closer and closer to the mugginess of summer.

Yes, I am one of those people who kind of like the crazy humidity of Chicago in summertime.  I don't mind doing the yard work in the sun unless the temps are over 90.  I don't mind what the humidity does to my hair.  It's so straight and heavy it goes flat on its own.  I don't even mind the almost daily thunderstorms that hit in the late afternoon.

Summer brings with it deliveries from my Community Supported Agriculture farm, the bounty of the farmers' market, and fruit that is so juicy it has to be eaten over a sink.  Now, in March, just the thought of a tree-ripened peach sends me into a tizzy.  Knowing I still have a good five months before I get one again makes me a bit sad.

But before peaches, there is so much more to look forward to.

So in the morning, I'll enjoy my grapefruit half, knowing that those peach trees are getting themselves ready for summer, too.  They'll wake up soon and leaf and flower; the bees will do their work as well, and come early August we'll both be ready.

One of THOSE Days

Illustration by Ray Cruz from Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst

You know that kind of day... that day when everything seems wrong from the moment the alarm rings.  The day when the shower keeps going from scalding to freezing to scalding again.  The day when you can't  have your morning coffee because you have your wellness screening.  The day when there is no plain cream cheese for the bagel that is your post-blood work bagel.  The day when nothing seems to go right no matter what you do.

Yeah.  I had that day.  I cried in the car as drove from school to home to dance to play practice pickup and back to home.  I scolded my children.  I pouted as I cooked dinner.

I'm better now.  I spent some time thinking about all of the things that went RIGHT today: no cavities at the dentist; the new recipe turned out great; my kids made me laugh at dinner; my husband sat next to me on the couch as we wound down from our days.

It's easy to get caught up in everything that goes wrong in the course of a day.  It's harder to find the good and focus on that.  It's hard to remember that I am the person in charge of my emotions; that I get to decide how I am going to react to situations that I might not like or that are out of my control.

I'm going to hope that tomorrow is a better day, that I'll be able to hold onto the positive, and that I'll get to have that morning coffee that helps my day start off on an even keel.

Otherwise, I might have to move to Australia.

Simple Joys

Sometimes, simple things are the best.  In the past year, I've made an effort to simplify things; the main impetus was listing our house for sale and then moving.  I purged SO MUCH STUFF. I realized having less stuff meant a calmer me.  Simple is good.

Simple is good when it comes to food, too.  Lately, my favorite snack has been one of the simplest things around - popcorn popped on the stove, topped with real melted butter and some salt.  That's it; kind of plain but super tasty.

Of course, even simple things can get complicated if you let them.  On the road to my daughters' camp in western Wisconsin, there is a farm stand that Dan and I like to stop at.  In late summer, which is when Molly and Abby head to camp, the produce they sell is at its peak.  This past summer, I discovered they also sell a HUGE variety of popcorn.  WHO KNEW popcorn came in such a wide variety.  There were different kernel sizes, different popped kernel sizes, different flavors (imagine the dude at the wine store, but with popcorn.  For real).  I bought some.  Tried it.  It was ok.

But not as good as the white popcorn I buy in bulk at Whole Foods.  Simple.

Tonight I popped up a big batch.  In fact, my Whirly-pop popper almost couldn't handle it.  I melted 3 tablespoons of butter.  I sprinkled salt on the warm, freshly popped kernels.  Then I settled on the couch with Abby and Dan to watch The Voice and unwind from my day.

It was simple.

And it was good.

(And yes.. I saved some for Molly!)

"Slicing" Again This March

It's March 1, which means it's time again for the Slice of Life writing challenge sponsored by the TwoWritingTeachers blog.  The challenge is to write and post every day in the month of March.

I took this opportunity to wander down memory lane.  I discovered that I started this particular blog on March 1, 2011, specifically to participate in the SOLSC.  I've participated, mostly successfully, every year since.  Sadly, however, the blog sits dormant the other eleven months of the year.  Each year I tell myself I will keep slicing weekly on Tuesdays, and sometimes I make it to the end of April.  I'm not sure why I don't keep up with it.  Perhaps it's the fact that life gets in the way; we're just too busy for me to sit and write.  Perhaps it's the fact that as my kids get older I find less to write about them (though that's a silly excuse, since they are fascinating kids).  Perhaps it's that internal censor getting in my way, telling me that no one really cares what I have to say.

So here I am again, fingers on keyboard, opening myself up to new possibilities.  I want to write.  I want to write more than slices or book reviews.  I want to write for a larger audience, and I have ideas.  Now it's time to put those ideas to work and make myself sit at my desk for an hour or so a day to get myself into the groove.

I know I CAN do it; the question is WILL I?