A job?

               This is not how I spent my morning.

Today I had my second job interview.

I was a bit of a nervous wreck. I know this about myself, so the night before I took a diphenhydramine and went to bed at 9, so that I wouldn't be nervous and sleep deprived. I left for the interview at 7:45, giving myself an hour and 15 minutes to make a 50 minute drive, knowing that I would likely get lost in, I did. But only for a short while. The drive was nerve wracking because I hate fast paced urban driving. And I hate driving in new places. Really I am more of a horse and buggy type. So anyway. I got there. And proceeded to have what I thought was a pretty shitty interview. Sure, I shined a few times. But there were at least two instances in which I was fumbling over words and thinking to myself, "This sucks. Am I making sense. Do I sound like an idiot." Not a good sign right?

But I had already realized that if I was not offered the job I wouldn't beat myself up about it because I don't need the freaking commute or the challenge of teaching low-income kids who are minorities with special needs in the neediest school district in the state. I don't mean to sound heartless. I am also excited about teaching these kids. And they deserve passionate, caring, devoted teachers like me who so want to be the best teacher that they give themselves ulcers. But I am terrified. And intimidated. And would rather be doing it as a single person with no kids of her own and a less complicated personal life.

Then they told me they wanted to hire me. One of the interviewers actually said, "We want to hire you." And she said, "I think this went very well." A few times. I am pretty sure she was trying to convince herself. I am pretty sure they didn't get a lot of applicants. But I need the job. And it pays better than the district I live in. I don't quite have the job yet though. I have to be observed teaching a lesson. Unless I bomb that, I suppose I have a job. She said she wants me to start work before the 9th of January. And I am sure a month in, I will stop vibrating and putting the lettuce in the freezer like I did today.

This afternoon I bought two books that promise to help me become a better (white) teacher of minority kids.

Black Ants and Buddhists- Thinking Critically and Teaching Differently in the Primary Grades



And






Beyond heroes and Holidays- A practical Guide to K-12 Anti-Racist, Multicultural Education and Staff Development.




I'll let you know how it goes...

from lemons comes curd

As I was inspecting Henry's winter coat for signs indicating immediate laundering turning his pockets inside out and throwing away tissues, a broken nerf bullet and a crumpled clue from a birthday treasure hunt, it occurred to me that avoiding this blog because my life has been so difficult might be a bit silly. It is true that on some days I am too busy to write or think about the blog; papers, preschool, my own children demand so much of my time. But I have also been avoiding it because Matty moved out in October. And it is a topic so painful and personal. Then I realized that most people who read this blog know about it. And while I am not about to turn my blog into The  Diary of a Woebegone Woman, I can use it to write about what is helping us through this painful time.

Marriage is complicated. Matt and I still love each other and we intend to work through this together and come out  happier individuals in the end, whether we are Together or Not. Which is why we have been doing this slowly. Which is why our kids do not even know. And why we are trying to be good friends to each other. But I don't always see things this clearly. Sometimes it all seems just sad and confusing. We have spent nearly half our lives together. Who am I without Matt?

As you can probably tell, today is a good day. Possibly because the sun is shining and I have the day off tomorrow. Possibly because I slept less fitfully last night. Possibly because I burned so much sage and lit so many candles while I took a bath at 2 in the afternoon that I am experiencing a chemical high that one only experiences after breathing in sage and candles and listening to a favorite bluegrass pandora station so loud that the neighbors think you are having a spiritual hoedown.

So I am trying to be gentle with myself and Matt. Not selfish or indulgent. But gentle. Which means forgiving and kind.  And maybe it means buying sage smudge sticks in bulk.

My First Born

Henry just turned 9. I am in awe of Henry. His kindness warmth and sensitivity. His creativity and zest for life. I can't believe how lucky I am to have been blessed with him. From the depths of my heart.

For his birthday dinner he requested: sushi, miso soup and dumplings. And cake. He wanted to know all of the kinds of cake that exist. I told him we did not have time for that kind of research but after a few choices he chose the cake I made for Molly's last birthday- Paula Deen's 3 layer coconut cake with my own adaptation- lemon curd. And because it turned out sort of seuss-like, read lopsided/ugly, I covered it with vanilla buttercream and sandwitched lemon curd between the layers.  And we had a MAD dance party in our living room with Laurie and Noni and even Papa and dad dancing....

And all weekend he, his bro and his bff noni played peacefully and joyfully. And laurie and I drank coffee and wine and ate lots of food in between.   

Logic out the Window or Molasses Chocolate Chip Cookies

Some people approach the holidays with caution, telling themselves that they are going to limit the number of sweets they eat, keep active, fill up on salads and water before every meal. Some day, I may treat holidays like this but I am not ready for that yet. I generally do the opposite. Weeks before the holidays I start dreaming of the number of cocktails and glasses of wine I will consume. I revel in the anticipation of eating cutouts decked out in frosting, thick molassesy slabs of sponge candy drenched in fine chocolate, gooey wedges of my neighbors boozy rum-soaked cake, sticky sweet pecan pie and coffee with cream. And I plan on sitting and reading. Drinking vino, eating and sitting. Because before the holidays comes stress of being in grad school, of teaching, of having two active boys and living in a sardine can and general life stress.  So it is my gift to myself, to let go. And it is why now my middle feels like a tub of jello. Also my gym closed but that is another story.

 So yesterday I baked cookies.

Because moms bake on snow days. That is one of my rules. It just is. Sorry. FYI, they also go out in their own snow pants for about an hour, if they want to. And maybe they watch part of a BBC adaptation and knit. 

THE COOKIES from Joy the Baker. She is hilarious. Read her blog. It cracks me up. 

Curt made these over the break but his were even better than mine. And mine were really good. He doesn't know just what he did differently but he adapted it a bit. Which frustrates me and also is a relief. For my waistline.

My children played outside nearly ALL DAY. The rule is they have to come in once it is dark. They still have all of their fingers and toes. But their cheeks were numb for a bit. 

 Ez is still mucho cheek so his face wasn't working well for a bit.

H. looked like a Yeti.

harvest moon- neil young, and other things...

Today, I picked Ez up from school, drove to the doctor, paid for parking (with his money I only had pennies in my wallet). All this only to find out that the appt. I made last week (which took a half hour with a brand new receptionist) is for next Monday. He can't go to school on Friday if I can't get him an appt. soon, because he needs an mmr. The last vaccine he got swelled his arm up to the size of a tree trunk. So this is not something I even want to do.  I have a ton of work to do, a four hour licensing exam on Saturday. I am always tired.

Sometimes I wonder why life can't be easier and then I remember that it is. My sister is here. If I was going through all this stuff right now without her, life would be harder.

So I take a deep breath. And play ukelele. And eat some chocolate. And scratch my chin. And write papers. And teach preschool. And go to therapy. And read research. And do assessments. And read really important books that most people should read but probably don't like All God's Children- The Boskett Family and the American Tradition of Violence by Fox Butterfield. And go to zumba. And do all the things that moms do, because I am a mom.

A little ditty, with a couple very important interruptions but no cursing.

My next step is to learn how to add harmonies to my little videos.