Every other week, Monday is the best day of the week. The odd weeks, it is the worst day of the week. Right now, Jack is working one week on, one week off and Monday is switch day. Today he is switching home.
I would love to say I already have dinner in the crockpot, but I don't - but it is already planned. Pancakes and sausage don't work well in the crockpot and Bella asked that tonight be breakfast night.
I do have a clean house, a bed with clean sheets, and a reasonably stocked fridge for him to come home to. This is a thing with me. I do not keep a messy house, but I will admit that by Friday night things are a bit cluttered. By then there is laundry waiting, there is detritus on my desk from our home work of the week, the regular dust, sweep, mop routine is due. But we always start the new week with a freshly cleaned house. It makes me feel calmer going into Monday and I need all the help I can get dealing with Mondays.
Sunday nights are my bad nights. Last night my brain was fizzing with the new stuff I was going to do with my regular juniors as they start Gatsby this week and the new stuff I will be doing with Of Mice and Men with the sophomores next week. New stuff is exciting, fun, and re-energizes me, but it means I have to plan more, things will be in flux as I see that one chapter is suddenly an extra day longer or 15 min shorter with the new approach. Mid OMAM planning, my brain abruptly switched to plotting a mini- AP lit and rhetoric term boot camp I want to do with the Comp and Lang class. I have a whole week to stew on that, though I plan to devote some serious brain power to the idea during today's staff development meetings. There is also a sense of dread knowing that by mid week I will have 75ish essays to grade. So anyway, a clean house provides a sense of calm and being in control while I seem to be riding a run away train at school.
I also have this idea that while Jack has never once criticized my house keeping abilities, he might not feel welcomed at coming home to a wreck. I feel like after a week away, living in a camper trailer, being out in the cold and wind much of the day, home should be a haven. As it is, he is coming home to a big chore list. Cats to be hauled away to get their bits snipped, mailboxes to fix, tires for the car . . .
I don't melt down when he leaves, but there is a little wrenching in my heart. I worry. A lot. Oil fields are dangerous places. Big trucks are dangerous. We do fine during the week, but there is always of sense of waiting for him to come home. We FaceTime almost every night, Bell in my lap, telling him about her day. But sometimes, it isn't the conversation, it is the hand in mine that I crave. Tonight, I can have that.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Contemplating Love and the R
I have been quiet here for a few weeks. What can I say, but that I lead a boring life? School with its endless 2nd grade spelling tests and high school essays has consumed us once again. When I am checking math facts or doing all the crazy things we do for spelling, I have been worrying a few bones of my own.
I really feel that Bell needs a different speech therapist at school, but my attempts at getting her switched have hit a wall. Apparently the other therapist only sees older students. Never mind that the current therapist isn't helping. There is a center in Lawton that does free therapy and I have called at least twice a week for the past two weeks. I leave messages. No one calls back. I suppose that means the door is shut. There are other clinics, but they cost a fortune. When Bell was little, we spent almost a thousand a month on therapy for the first while. I imagine we wouldn't go as often now, but it would still be a hundred a week. I don't know where that money would come from. In the mean time, I wonder if I could deal with this at home if I just knew a little more about how to help her. We do some practice at home, but I am limited in knowing technique. Not pursuing this doesn't feel like an option. People don't get to be president if they can't say their R's. Bell doesn't yet know what she wants (she says the first job will be to build a machine to dig to the center of the earth to confirm what the core consists of, but then she will think about going to space), but I don't want language to be a barrier for whatever she pursues. Next year, Bell will be old enough to see the other therapist, but will be it be in time?
Besides the dreaded R, I have spent a lot of time thinking about love and marriage. Two weeks ago, I found out that an old friend was getting a divorce and then last week, I found out that someone near and dear was also divorcing, leaving some wreckage that will have a pretty serious impact on my family. On the other end of the spectrum, Cindy has found someone to share her life with, someone she has committed to. This love she has found makes my heart sing.
I am reminded how wonderful and exciting love is, but how fragile it becomes if we don't nurture it. At my brother's wedding in the fall, Reggie, the preacher, talked about how if a marriage was going to work, people had to choose to walk in love every day. If they weren't actively and consciously putting on love and fruits of the spirit, they would begin walking in selfishness, pursuing their own desires, choosing impatience . . . And eventually the couple would say "we just aren't in love any more." Jack and I don't have the perfect marriage, and there were times early on when I thought I had probably ruined his life by marrying him. However, we continue to practice walking in love, in putting each other and the idea of us above selfish desires. We get better at this every year, and as we get better at it, it turns out that putting the needs of each other first is self serving. If I am seeking what is best for him and he is seeking what is best for me, then we are making sure that each other's needs are met. There is no need to be selfish. An old friend once told me that divorce is inevitable for all couples and that when things stopped being fun, you just move on. I think that might have been the point when our friendship started to fizzle. I just can't be that casual about what I see as commitment. I have spent a lot of time looking around me the past two weeks - I see a lot of joyful marriages and I see rubble where marriages that once were joyful have been cast aside. I am so very happy for Cindy, but I am also sober, sad for the endings I also see.
Thursday, of my female students told one of the boys that he was a fool for not dating lots of girls and shopping around. She suggested that he wouldn't know whether or not a better girl was out there unless he did. He didn't say much, angered a little. I rarely jump into my kids' conversations, but I did that day. I said the idea that someone else better was always out there contributed to people's dissatisfaction with their spouses later on, that this dating and dumping frenzy, rather than waiting and really getting to know someone and then committing if it was right, was practice for divorce later on. The girl scoffed and said no one ever married their first love and stayed with them and were stupid if they did, staying only out of ignorance. I asked if she was calling my family stupid. That ended the conversation.
I really feel that Bell needs a different speech therapist at school, but my attempts at getting her switched have hit a wall. Apparently the other therapist only sees older students. Never mind that the current therapist isn't helping. There is a center in Lawton that does free therapy and I have called at least twice a week for the past two weeks. I leave messages. No one calls back. I suppose that means the door is shut. There are other clinics, but they cost a fortune. When Bell was little, we spent almost a thousand a month on therapy for the first while. I imagine we wouldn't go as often now, but it would still be a hundred a week. I don't know where that money would come from. In the mean time, I wonder if I could deal with this at home if I just knew a little more about how to help her. We do some practice at home, but I am limited in knowing technique. Not pursuing this doesn't feel like an option. People don't get to be president if they can't say their R's. Bell doesn't yet know what she wants (she says the first job will be to build a machine to dig to the center of the earth to confirm what the core consists of, but then she will think about going to space), but I don't want language to be a barrier for whatever she pursues. Next year, Bell will be old enough to see the other therapist, but will be it be in time?
Besides the dreaded R, I have spent a lot of time thinking about love and marriage. Two weeks ago, I found out that an old friend was getting a divorce and then last week, I found out that someone near and dear was also divorcing, leaving some wreckage that will have a pretty serious impact on my family. On the other end of the spectrum, Cindy has found someone to share her life with, someone she has committed to. This love she has found makes my heart sing.
I am reminded how wonderful and exciting love is, but how fragile it becomes if we don't nurture it. At my brother's wedding in the fall, Reggie, the preacher, talked about how if a marriage was going to work, people had to choose to walk in love every day. If they weren't actively and consciously putting on love and fruits of the spirit, they would begin walking in selfishness, pursuing their own desires, choosing impatience . . . And eventually the couple would say "we just aren't in love any more." Jack and I don't have the perfect marriage, and there were times early on when I thought I had probably ruined his life by marrying him. However, we continue to practice walking in love, in putting each other and the idea of us above selfish desires. We get better at this every year, and as we get better at it, it turns out that putting the needs of each other first is self serving. If I am seeking what is best for him and he is seeking what is best for me, then we are making sure that each other's needs are met. There is no need to be selfish. An old friend once told me that divorce is inevitable for all couples and that when things stopped being fun, you just move on. I think that might have been the point when our friendship started to fizzle. I just can't be that casual about what I see as commitment. I have spent a lot of time looking around me the past two weeks - I see a lot of joyful marriages and I see rubble where marriages that once were joyful have been cast aside. I am so very happy for Cindy, but I am also sober, sad for the endings I also see.
Thursday, of my female students told one of the boys that he was a fool for not dating lots of girls and shopping around. She suggested that he wouldn't know whether or not a better girl was out there unless he did. He didn't say much, angered a little. I rarely jump into my kids' conversations, but I did that day. I said the idea that someone else better was always out there contributed to people's dissatisfaction with their spouses later on, that this dating and dumping frenzy, rather than waiting and really getting to know someone and then committing if it was right, was practice for divorce later on. The girl scoffed and said no one ever married their first love and stayed with them and were stupid if they did, staying only out of ignorance. I asked if she was calling my family stupid. That ended the conversation.
Friday, January 3, 2014
The Case of the Missing Eyebrow
When Bella was 3 she went through a self haircut phase. She found scissors I didn't even know we had, hid behind the recliner, and worked in her pony tails. It was never so bad that we had to visit a salon and the phase was pretty short-lived, but it was one of Bell's many "DIY" projects. There was the lotion phase that involved her sneaking in the bathroom and opening a box of 12 different Bath and Body scented lotions and applying them all to the point of being slick. It takes multiple baths to get a kid non-greasy after such an event, the tub has to be scrubbed afterwards, and your kid still smells odd.
Yesterday, I discovered a new oddity. I was helping Bell rinse her hair after she washed it and noticed that one eyebrow looked odd. I though it was just mussed up from when I dumped water over her head. In fact, half her right eyebrow is mostly gone. There is a thin line at the bottom and a few stray hairs at the top and one half is there, but the most of the other half is just gone, leaving a strip of very white skin beneath. I wasn't mad - just amused and curious. I badgered her off and on all day - had she played in tape, with my razor, borrowed my tweezers? She adamantly refused to tell, maintaining that she did nothing and had no idea how it happened. Finally, I asked her if she would tell Jack. She said, "Yeah, I will tell dad next time we go camping because we always tell secrets when we camp." Ahah! I pointed out that she had just admitted to having done something, but she just grinned and walked off to get ready for bed.
I slept terribly last night - my school dreams have returned and my old hip bursitis kept me up most of the night, but I am up and ready for the last Friday of freedom. I plan to work on a project for my parents' birthday (or anniversary at the rate I am going). I need to get those work out DVDs going. And maybe I will sweet talk Bella out if her secret. I just hope her eyebrow grows back because she is funny looking right now.
Yesterday, I discovered a new oddity. I was helping Bell rinse her hair after she washed it and noticed that one eyebrow looked odd. I though it was just mussed up from when I dumped water over her head. In fact, half her right eyebrow is mostly gone. There is a thin line at the bottom and a few stray hairs at the top and one half is there, but the most of the other half is just gone, leaving a strip of very white skin beneath. I wasn't mad - just amused and curious. I badgered her off and on all day - had she played in tape, with my razor, borrowed my tweezers? She adamantly refused to tell, maintaining that she did nothing and had no idea how it happened. Finally, I asked her if she would tell Jack. She said, "Yeah, I will tell dad next time we go camping because we always tell secrets when we camp." Ahah! I pointed out that she had just admitted to having done something, but she just grinned and walked off to get ready for bed.
I slept terribly last night - my school dreams have returned and my old hip bursitis kept me up most of the night, but I am up and ready for the last Friday of freedom. I plan to work on a project for my parents' birthday (or anniversary at the rate I am going). I need to get those work out DVDs going. And maybe I will sweet talk Bella out if her secret. I just hope her eyebrow grows back because she is funny looking right now.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
New Year, new Semester
Yesterday I had an email from an old friend. He sends one email a year, letting me know he is still alive, and I always send one back. It is the typical update on life email. In my reply, I commented that though life wasn't perfect (whose is?), I was content with the way things were. He said that I should never be content, that it was against human nature.
I think this is both a great and terrible idea. I know I should never be content with how I teach or my walk with the Lord or any number of things. But I don't think he understood that when I said I was content, I meant I was at peace with a lot of things. I am at peace living in this weird little house next to Rubilee. I am at peace with Jack having to work away from home some. I am at peace with putting my farm dreams on hold for now. That doesn't mean I have found a way to love my falling apart carpet or my miniscule bathroom. It does mean that I am not going to spend excess amount of time and energy fretting that I don't have as big of a house as my friends. We make choices. One of our choices was to live in the country, specifically here to help the in-laws. I suppose if years ago we had chosen to move to a bigger town or Jack or I had chosen to back to college for a more lucrative career, I might have a closet big enough to put a bed in or marble counter tops. But those were not the choices we made. If living life with Jack and Bell on this land means that we live the way we do, then so be it because that choice also means I can sunbathe without neighbors seeing. I can watch the sun come up and go down with no one else disturbing me. I can wake up every day in a marriage with a devoted, passionate man and I can spend every day as a mom of a kid I love. So yes, I am content. I am sure that there will be moments of frustration ( every time I try to scrub the tub and vacuum this carpet), but in this new year, I want to walk in peace and contentment. This is a God thing, not a settling for less thing.
A new year also means a new semester. I am not going to lie and say I can't wait for Monday. School stresses me. During the school year, my stress is measured by how crappy my sleep is. It is measured by how many fever blisters I get. During these 13 days off I have only had 2 bad nights of sleep and both were my own fault. My skin is fairly clear and I haven't felt the need to grit my teeth. My body thinks I am meant to be a housewife and garden girl. My paycheck and education dictate otherwise. So Monday we begin anew. I have a month's worth of lesson plans in place, two weeks of assignments and made and the first week of tests made. I am ready.
In all honesty, I am looking forward to seeing most of my kids again. Most. There might be two or three that I would love to move far, far away. I am eager to finish Gatsby and move into some feminist lit with the AP kids. I am eager to begin writing boot camp with all my juniors. I will be glad to see them, hear their chatter, listen to stories about break, discuss literature with them. Today, I bumped into one of my favorite former students. Jamin was in my class when Bella was born so he is a grown man now, about to graduate from college, full of hopes and promise. As happy as I was to see him, I was tickled when his face lit up when he saw me. Once kids have been in my room, they are mine for life; I have a vested interest in them. But me? Well for many, I am just some lady who wrote on their papers in red ink. It is nice to see those kids I connected with, those kids who got it and cared and enjoyed my class as much as I enjoyed having them in class. I was glad I saw Jamin today, glad for the hug that reminded me that I do love these kids, even if I despise the test pressure and the paper grading and the hoops I jump through to be their teacher.
Anyway, I am planning on striving for being better in the things that I shouldn't settle on, but I am also going to work on walking in peace and contentment in the things that God has given me for my current life in this new year.
I think this is both a great and terrible idea. I know I should never be content with how I teach or my walk with the Lord or any number of things. But I don't think he understood that when I said I was content, I meant I was at peace with a lot of things. I am at peace living in this weird little house next to Rubilee. I am at peace with Jack having to work away from home some. I am at peace with putting my farm dreams on hold for now. That doesn't mean I have found a way to love my falling apart carpet or my miniscule bathroom. It does mean that I am not going to spend excess amount of time and energy fretting that I don't have as big of a house as my friends. We make choices. One of our choices was to live in the country, specifically here to help the in-laws. I suppose if years ago we had chosen to move to a bigger town or Jack or I had chosen to back to college for a more lucrative career, I might have a closet big enough to put a bed in or marble counter tops. But those were not the choices we made. If living life with Jack and Bell on this land means that we live the way we do, then so be it because that choice also means I can sunbathe without neighbors seeing. I can watch the sun come up and go down with no one else disturbing me. I can wake up every day in a marriage with a devoted, passionate man and I can spend every day as a mom of a kid I love. So yes, I am content. I am sure that there will be moments of frustration ( every time I try to scrub the tub and vacuum this carpet), but in this new year, I want to walk in peace and contentment. This is a God thing, not a settling for less thing.
A new year also means a new semester. I am not going to lie and say I can't wait for Monday. School stresses me. During the school year, my stress is measured by how crappy my sleep is. It is measured by how many fever blisters I get. During these 13 days off I have only had 2 bad nights of sleep and both were my own fault. My skin is fairly clear and I haven't felt the need to grit my teeth. My body thinks I am meant to be a housewife and garden girl. My paycheck and education dictate otherwise. So Monday we begin anew. I have a month's worth of lesson plans in place, two weeks of assignments and made and the first week of tests made. I am ready.
In all honesty, I am looking forward to seeing most of my kids again. Most. There might be two or three that I would love to move far, far away. I am eager to finish Gatsby and move into some feminist lit with the AP kids. I am eager to begin writing boot camp with all my juniors. I will be glad to see them, hear their chatter, listen to stories about break, discuss literature with them. Today, I bumped into one of my favorite former students. Jamin was in my class when Bella was born so he is a grown man now, about to graduate from college, full of hopes and promise. As happy as I was to see him, I was tickled when his face lit up when he saw me. Once kids have been in my room, they are mine for life; I have a vested interest in them. But me? Well for many, I am just some lady who wrote on their papers in red ink. It is nice to see those kids I connected with, those kids who got it and cared and enjoyed my class as much as I enjoyed having them in class. I was glad I saw Jamin today, glad for the hug that reminded me that I do love these kids, even if I despise the test pressure and the paper grading and the hoops I jump through to be their teacher.
Anyway, I am planning on striving for being better in the things that I shouldn't settle on, but I am also going to work on walking in peace and contentment in the things that God has given me for my current life in this new year.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Optimism
Last year began with a grim sort of trudging. Jack had the flu and was jobless. I hadn't yet become good friends with people at school. Harold was in the hospital. Just grim.
There have certainly been some dark moments this year. There were lots of nights when I lay awake praying that God would sort our mess out, that he would heal Jack's back or give us wisdom with Bell or . . . It is a never ending list, a very similar list to what you probably face. Of course there was the two months when Jack was hurt and couldn't move beyond the recliner, couldn't work, couldn't even lie down. There was the incident with the dog and my leg and the stitches. I know there have been moments when I lost my temper with Jack and he has lost his temper with me.
But somehow this year we hit a stride that worked. Some of that rhythm and peace has to do with knowing we are where we should be. Some of it has to do with me learning to be content instead of always wanting more - a bigger kitchen and bath would be nice, but I am not living in a tent like my mom did for 2 years. I am incredibly thankful that Jack has a job that he mostly likes and a boss who didn't lay him off during his injured time. I am incredibly thankful that I have friends. It makes such a difference.
No, it is not perfect bliss, but it is real life, with real joy to go with real problems.
This is Jack's week to be gone and Bell was gloomy about him being gone on New Year's Eve, so I took her to see a movie and out to lunch yesterday. Then our friends in Fletcher invited us over for games and snacks for NYE. It was low key, but Bell loves to play with their son and I have come to count Suzanne as a serious blessing in my friend list. The evening was a reminder of that blessing.
This morning I woke with a sinus headache, but there is hot coffee and a not too messy house and sunshine. I am tired from staying up too late, but I am optimistic that this will be a good year. I don't know what it will bring - we have some major car issues and house issues to deal with. Jack still walks with a limp. I will be back in the grind of teaching in a few days. I have a feeling we are on the cusp of some major change in the way we live, though that change could still be years away. I know as much as I love teaching this AP class, I feel a draw to homeschool and I still desperately want the farm thing to happen. I also think that when one of Jack's parents dies, we will have to move into the big house with the other one. With their age and health, that could, be tomorrow or in ten years. Lots of uncertainty. Yet, I am still optimistic that this year will bring good things. I hope it brings good things for all of you.
There have certainly been some dark moments this year. There were lots of nights when I lay awake praying that God would sort our mess out, that he would heal Jack's back or give us wisdom with Bell or . . . It is a never ending list, a very similar list to what you probably face. Of course there was the two months when Jack was hurt and couldn't move beyond the recliner, couldn't work, couldn't even lie down. There was the incident with the dog and my leg and the stitches. I know there have been moments when I lost my temper with Jack and he has lost his temper with me.
But somehow this year we hit a stride that worked. Some of that rhythm and peace has to do with knowing we are where we should be. Some of it has to do with me learning to be content instead of always wanting more - a bigger kitchen and bath would be nice, but I am not living in a tent like my mom did for 2 years. I am incredibly thankful that Jack has a job that he mostly likes and a boss who didn't lay him off during his injured time. I am incredibly thankful that I have friends. It makes such a difference.
No, it is not perfect bliss, but it is real life, with real joy to go with real problems.
This is Jack's week to be gone and Bell was gloomy about him being gone on New Year's Eve, so I took her to see a movie and out to lunch yesterday. Then our friends in Fletcher invited us over for games and snacks for NYE. It was low key, but Bell loves to play with their son and I have come to count Suzanne as a serious blessing in my friend list. The evening was a reminder of that blessing.
This morning I woke with a sinus headache, but there is hot coffee and a not too messy house and sunshine. I am tired from staying up too late, but I am optimistic that this will be a good year. I don't know what it will bring - we have some major car issues and house issues to deal with. Jack still walks with a limp. I will be back in the grind of teaching in a few days. I have a feeling we are on the cusp of some major change in the way we live, though that change could still be years away. I know as much as I love teaching this AP class, I feel a draw to homeschool and I still desperately want the farm thing to happen. I also think that when one of Jack's parents dies, we will have to move into the big house with the other one. With their age and health, that could, be tomorrow or in ten years. Lots of uncertainty. Yet, I am still optimistic that this year will bring good things. I hope it brings good things for all of you.
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