Ugh, today was just a crappy day. You ever wake up, and know it's going to be a bad day, well, that's how I felt when Sean started fussing fifteen friggin' minutes before my alarm clock went off. I drag my ass out of bed to start my day. It's rainy; the new jeans I want to wear are too small. I go downstairs to find a pair of jeans that fit, and they are dirty. Back upstairs and can't find the shirt I want to wear; downstairs- can't find it. Cussing a blue streak by this point, I tear apart the closet and there is the shirt, hidden by hangers full of clothes too small.
I pop a Klonipin. I have a feeling it's the only way I'll make it through the day. The students were actually OK. I have a student that I really like, probably a "pet." He's very intelligent, fantastic writer, but lazy and a total ass. He comes up from lunch early to tell me that he's withdrawing right now. I was flabbergasted, I had just gotten him turned around, convinced him not to drop out, had him enter a writing contest and win, increase his grade from a 45 to a 95, and he's leaving? He hugs me bye and promises to keep in touch ( I haven't gotten his award form the contest yet). No big deal, but I worked so hard on that kid, and what if the next school doesn't? What if he doesn't have an English teacher that rides his ass? I told him to use the move as a new start, and to keep writing. He just laughed and waved over his shoulder.
Normally, I would be all right, but this has already been a shitty day, and did I mention I'm pre-menstrual? I boo-hooed. I went to my friend Callie's room, but I couldn't even talk. But it was about everything that's been going on. I never see my husband and son, and when I do I end up resenting the amount of time they take up when I could be grading papers or reading books for class or writing lesson plans. I haven't cooked a meal for my family in months. I can't remember the last time I've cleaned the house or washed a load of clothes or unloaded the dishwasher. I can't fit in any cute clothes. I don't have the money to buy new clothes. I want to hula hoop all my frustrations away but I can't because it's raining. I want to go out and eat dinner and have a drink, but I can't because Sean no longer sits in restaurant and Curtis and I end up fighting and babysitting instead of eating.
I feel so stretched in so many directions. I feel like I am doing a million things, but none of them particularly good. I am listening to Everclear, which is my "depression" music I feel defeated. Sometimes I don't want to get out of bed. Sometimes I want to drive and not stop.
"I feel like I am holding it together/Sometimes I feel like everything is fine/Something I feel Like I'm out of control/I feel like I am falling......Sometimes I feel like I am really lucky I have made it through Bruised and scarred/And half alive/Sometimes I feel Like I'm out of control I feel like I am falling......
I feel like I am faking it/I feel like I am wrong/I feel like I'm a guest...like I just do not belong I feel like I am faking it/ I feel like I am wrong /I feel like I'm a guest...like I just do not belong"
Tomorrow will be better, right?
Friday, February 27, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
I love Google!
So, as many of you know, I love Google. I use it at least three times daily. It is the most wonderful thing ever, behind TiVo, magic bullets, and eating out without a baby, but none of those wonderful things are the focus of this particular blog.
My ex-boss sent an e-mail out earlier this year about this new-fangled thing called a search engine and we all made fun of him, but I am truly a Google aficionado.
Last night Curtis and I watched the snoozefest that was the 81st annual Academy Awards. During Queen Latifah's "In Memoriam," we noticed the absence of Heath Ledger, and this led to a debate as to why he wasn't included in this year's telecast. To determine the answer, I went to my trusty pal Google, and I was not disappointed. Heath died on January 22, 2008, and his memoriam was during last year's telecast, although with his nomination and eventual win, you think they could have shown him again this year, but I digress.
Since I was on Google, I asked Curtis was there anything else I needed to research, and then I remembered a long-standing debate we have had about which lame-ass balladeer, Michael Bolton or Bryan Adams, had penned songs for Kiss. Naturally I was right! Thanks Google!
Then he said, "Quit making things up. Next thing you'll tell me George Washington wasn't the first president of the United States." Twenty-five million hits in .45 seconds and viola. Google you rock my face off!
Next he challenged me to find something anything about President Barack Obamba ( a clever play on my favorite 50s' Latino hit performed by dreamboat Lou Diamond Phillips in the movie version of Ritchie Valens's life and tragic death). I had called him Obamba on purpose as a joke, but lo and behold, "Obamba!" Viva la Google!
Inside joke now, we were talking about spicy Mexican taint on Saturday, and no, I don't remember what started the conversation or why, but he said I would never find anything about that, not even on the juggernaut that is Google. Puh-lease! Give me a real challenge.
But do yourselves a favor, okay? Stay away from Mexican subways! Google, I wanna make out with you!
Then Sean Penn won the Oscar for Best Actor, and I thought to myself, "Damn! Is he ever going to shut up?" Naturally, this begs the question can anyone shut Sean Penn up? Apparently this is crazy popular on Google. Shut up already, dude!
In conclusion, Google is the best thing ever, and if it were a person, I'd totally marry it. Thank you Google for making my life better, and just more fun!
My ex-boss sent an e-mail out earlier this year about this new-fangled thing called a search engine and we all made fun of him, but I am truly a Google aficionado.
Last night Curtis and I watched the snoozefest that was the 81st annual Academy Awards. During Queen Latifah's "In Memoriam," we noticed the absence of Heath Ledger, and this led to a debate as to why he wasn't included in this year's telecast. To determine the answer, I went to my trusty pal Google, and I was not disappointed. Heath died on January 22, 2008, and his memoriam was during last year's telecast, although with his nomination and eventual win, you think they could have shown him again this year, but I digress.
Since I was on Google, I asked Curtis was there anything else I needed to research, and then I remembered a long-standing debate we have had about which lame-ass balladeer, Michael Bolton or Bryan Adams, had penned songs for Kiss. Naturally I was right! Thanks Google!
Then he said, "Quit making things up. Next thing you'll tell me George Washington wasn't the first president of the United States." Twenty-five million hits in .45 seconds and viola. Google you rock my face off!
Next he challenged me to find something anything about President Barack Obamba ( a clever play on my favorite 50s' Latino hit performed by dreamboat Lou Diamond Phillips in the movie version of Ritchie Valens's life and tragic death). I had called him Obamba on purpose as a joke, but lo and behold, "Obamba!" Viva la Google!
Inside joke now, we were talking about spicy Mexican taint on Saturday, and no, I don't remember what started the conversation or why, but he said I would never find anything about that, not even on the juggernaut that is Google. Puh-lease! Give me a real challenge.
But do yourselves a favor, okay? Stay away from Mexican subways! Google, I wanna make out with you!
Then Sean Penn won the Oscar for Best Actor, and I thought to myself, "Damn! Is he ever going to shut up?" Naturally, this begs the question can anyone shut Sean Penn up? Apparently this is crazy popular on Google. Shut up already, dude!
In conclusion, Google is the best thing ever, and if it were a person, I'd totally marry it. Thank you Google for making my life better, and just more fun!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
"You know what they say about assuming..."
Today I was teaching grad exams skills to my tenth graders, and one of the skills we reviewed was making conclusions. We have worked on ths all year, but sometimes they just don't get things. A refresher for my readers who may not remember tenth grade English. A conclusion is when you take prior knowledge and combine it with evidence from something you read or write and then make a conclusion. It it were a math equation it would look something like this:
What you know (prior knowledge) + what you see or read
= conclusion
A good person is kind, generous and selfless + Ben Franklin gave food to poor people
= Ben Franklin is a good person
Get it?
So a conclusion is like an assumption, and you know what they say about making assumptions...
I went to the teachers' lounge before lunch to get a soft drink, and discovered a young female in blue jeans looking kinda lost and uncomfortable. I combined my prior knowledge- students aren't allowed in the teachers' lounge and teachers can't wear jeans- and the evidence I could see- young woman in jeans, and concluded "There is a friggin' student in the teachers' lounge! Busted!"
I barked at her: "What are you doing in here?" She looked at me questioningly.
I snarked: "I'm sorry, are you a new teacher I don't know about?" I couldn't tell if she was about to cry or run away, but she wasn't responding.
My voice trailed away: "Are you a substitute?" She nodded.
She said: "Did you go to Erwin High School?"
Holy crap! I yelled at a substitute teacher! A sub that went to junior high with me!
I am such an ass!
What you know (prior knowledge) + what you see or read
= conclusion
A good person is kind, generous and selfless + Ben Franklin gave food to poor people
= Ben Franklin is a good person
Get it?
So a conclusion is like an assumption, and you know what they say about making assumptions...
I went to the teachers' lounge before lunch to get a soft drink, and discovered a young female in blue jeans looking kinda lost and uncomfortable. I combined my prior knowledge- students aren't allowed in the teachers' lounge and teachers can't wear jeans- and the evidence I could see- young woman in jeans, and concluded "There is a friggin' student in the teachers' lounge! Busted!"
I barked at her: "What are you doing in here?" She looked at me questioningly.
I snarked: "I'm sorry, are you a new teacher I don't know about?" I couldn't tell if she was about to cry or run away, but she wasn't responding.
My voice trailed away: "Are you a substitute?" She nodded.
She said: "Did you go to Erwin High School?"
Holy crap! I yelled at a substitute teacher! A sub that went to junior high with me!
I am such an ass!
Monday, February 16, 2009
Tough Decisions
I make choices every day. I decide if I am going to eat a healthy breakfast at home or
Chick-Fil-A's chicken, egg and cheese bagel. I decide am I going to wear pants that fit or those pants that are entirely too tight. Will I "sleep" through Sean waking up at 4:15 AM or will I get out of bed and tend to him? Some choices- those of the ethical/religious variety - are few and far between. Do I believe in Heaven? What happens to people who commit suicide? Does life begin at conception? I don't have to make those decisions every day, thank goodness.
Today I did have to make a choice, and I don't know if it was the right one; I guess I may never know. I love my son. I truly, 100 % believe that he is the most beautiful, most intelligent creature I have ever, or will ever know. He has the most beautiful curly blond hair, despite two botched haircuts. He has the bluest eyes (genetics be damned, it happened!) He is talking. Granted I may not know everything he says, but he is saying it. He will blow kisses and say "MUAH!" I love him.
But being a parent isn't always easy. In fact, it is hard as hell. Thankless. Sleepless. Exhausting. Aggravating. I don't know if I will ever be ready for another child, and I am resigned to that fact. At least once a day, I think to myself, "I am a crappy mother." I get frustrated when I shouldn't - he won't eat, he is fussing, he keeps dragging me around from room to room, he wants me to read "Wheels on the Bus" AGAIN! I resent nights when he decided to wake up at 4:15; doesn't he know I have to be up in an hour!? I miss being able to go out to dinner whenever I want to. I miss being able to read books and magazines for pleasure.
All that isn't to make me look like the most selfish person on the face of the earth; it's just to show that I am human. I love my son, but I don't know if I am willing to go through this again. My life has been turned completely upside down for the last 16 months, and I know it will never be the same. I am fine with that; I relish that. But I am not willing, at this point, to sacrifice anymore of my life to another human being.
It's a humbling job. So when I waked up to that pharmacy counter to purchase Plan B, the "postcoital pill", I swear my left ovary was aching. In 16 months we have not had a single slip, not one. Blame it on Cupid. Blame it on the new lingerie. Blame it on me, or him, or whatever. I had a decision to make. Chances are nothing would happen, but there is always a slim chance that something could develop out of this moment of carelessness. I couldn't help but remember the fact that Sean was conceived the FIRST time we tried. So I know, joyfully, that it only takes one time. Take a chance or make a choice. I chose to be pro-active, no matter how wrong or morally against the choice you may be.
Plan B is NOT an "abortion" pill. It prevents fertilization from occurring. In some eyes, that may not be a difference, but in my eyes it will have to be. I have so many reasons for not wanting another baby, especially right now- I'm not tenured; I am back in school to get my Masters; I'm tired. Maybe they are selfish. Maybe they are unfair. They are mine. Did I make the wrong choice? Am I a bad person? Am I making a mountain out of a molehill? Am I a baby-killer?
I hope not.
Chick-Fil-A's chicken, egg and cheese bagel. I decide am I going to wear pants that fit or those pants that are entirely too tight. Will I "sleep" through Sean waking up at 4:15 AM or will I get out of bed and tend to him? Some choices- those of the ethical/religious variety - are few and far between. Do I believe in Heaven? What happens to people who commit suicide? Does life begin at conception? I don't have to make those decisions every day, thank goodness.
Today I did have to make a choice, and I don't know if it was the right one; I guess I may never know. I love my son. I truly, 100 % believe that he is the most beautiful, most intelligent creature I have ever, or will ever know. He has the most beautiful curly blond hair, despite two botched haircuts. He has the bluest eyes (genetics be damned, it happened!) He is talking. Granted I may not know everything he says, but he is saying it. He will blow kisses and say "MUAH!" I love him.
But being a parent isn't always easy. In fact, it is hard as hell. Thankless. Sleepless. Exhausting. Aggravating. I don't know if I will ever be ready for another child, and I am resigned to that fact. At least once a day, I think to myself, "I am a crappy mother." I get frustrated when I shouldn't - he won't eat, he is fussing, he keeps dragging me around from room to room, he wants me to read "Wheels on the Bus" AGAIN! I resent nights when he decided to wake up at 4:15; doesn't he know I have to be up in an hour!? I miss being able to go out to dinner whenever I want to. I miss being able to read books and magazines for pleasure.
All that isn't to make me look like the most selfish person on the face of the earth; it's just to show that I am human. I love my son, but I don't know if I am willing to go through this again. My life has been turned completely upside down for the last 16 months, and I know it will never be the same. I am fine with that; I relish that. But I am not willing, at this point, to sacrifice anymore of my life to another human being.
It's a humbling job. So when I waked up to that pharmacy counter to purchase Plan B, the "postcoital pill", I swear my left ovary was aching. In 16 months we have not had a single slip, not one. Blame it on Cupid. Blame it on the new lingerie. Blame it on me, or him, or whatever. I had a decision to make. Chances are nothing would happen, but there is always a slim chance that something could develop out of this moment of carelessness. I couldn't help but remember the fact that Sean was conceived the FIRST time we tried. So I know, joyfully, that it only takes one time. Take a chance or make a choice. I chose to be pro-active, no matter how wrong or morally against the choice you may be.
Plan B is NOT an "abortion" pill. It prevents fertilization from occurring. In some eyes, that may not be a difference, but in my eyes it will have to be. I have so many reasons for not wanting another baby, especially right now- I'm not tenured; I am back in school to get my Masters; I'm tired. Maybe they are selfish. Maybe they are unfair. They are mine. Did I make the wrong choice? Am I a bad person? Am I making a mountain out of a molehill? Am I a baby-killer?
I hope not.
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