The cat threw up already. It's only Wednesday, day BEFORE Thanksgiving, and there's some purging going on around here. Poor Roxy. She's not really purging, you all know cats don't do that, right? But she is suffering a common holiday malady: invasion of space and routine.
I love the holidays. I love time off work, I love seeing family and friends. I'm especially grateful to not only have my precious girls home from college, but nephew Zach visiting as well. We are knitting together a united front against the sadness of missing Scott. We are staying busy, either running around or binge TV-watching. And of course, cooking and eating. So far, so good. And, before you read any further...he is the perfect guest, he's family, I do my thing and don't stress. All reflections in this blog came to me as - yes - Roxy threw up.
Along with the college girls comes Isis, the college kitty. She's about six months old and cute as can be. She's gotten much bigger since leaving here in August. I no longer have to block the spindles on the upstairs overlook for fear that she will wiggle through and fall to the first floor, as she did in July. She has her own opinion about where she wants to go and which other animals she likes. Basically, it's nobody.
Now to be fair, the other animals either hate her or want to play too rough. (55-lb dog vs. six-month-old kitten, you know?) So everybody is walking around all stressed out. Except maybe Gordon, the big dog, he only wants to play! I wish it were easier and faster to say to animals: "You're in this together, now let's be nice to each other!" It occurred to me, just after Roxy lost her breakfast this morning, that the last time she did that was when Isis was here. My cat gets stressed and throws up! I know, gross.
But how different is that from any of us that are hosting or visiting over the holiday, and have our routine interrupted? Do we embrace it or does it just make us a little sick or even ruin our day? I personally embrace change of routine on my terms. For example - yes, I will have kolaches for breakfast one morning, but it's back to the cereal for me after that! I love people being around, having fun, especially if they are the kind of people that I can say "Do your thing, I'm going in here for a while!"
I hope that all my friends and any other readers and find a way to enjoy and celebrate the disruption of routine that comes with holidays on their own terms. My animal friends can't talk with each other and discover that they really don't have to stress. Roxy is growling at Isis as I type this! We can, however, be truthful about our feelings in a considerate way, and make non-routine days work nicely! Whoever you spend your holiday with, you and those people are a united front against the sadness, heartbreak and grief in the world. Laugh together, cry together, gorge on that meal together......Together. And no throwing up. (at least, not from stress!) Happy Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for all of you.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Treasure Box Day 11/16/13
There he sat, at the front of his row. A little five-year-old boy. Blond hair, cute as a button. Because he was at the front, the other kids couldn't see what he was doing. His eyes shut tightly, his lips mouthing unintelligible words and his hands clasped together with only knuckles showing.......he was praying. My heart melted at the same time I laughed out loud with delight. I didn't tell everyone, I simply enjoyed the moment. You see, it was Friday; time for me, the teacher, to select the treasure box winners. Little boy only wanted a toy truck or a plastic bug. And yes, he was praying HARD for it!
You see, as the 'ruler' of my classroom, I employ some 'tricks of the trade'. I had told the same little boy on Wednesday that he was having a WONDERFUL week, and that I could tell he was trying to get the treasure on Friday. The power of suggestion and dollar store goodies goes a long way in my little kingdom. I must clarify one thing: little boy is not a troublesome kid. He is also not perfect. He is a regular little boy. He knows that he talks when he shouldn't sometimes, and that he stuck his tongue out at a friend once. He is.....normal. And once in awhile, normal wins.
I love the hope that was expressed by this happening. I love the balance in this world. On the same Wednesday that I praised little boy, I had a horrible morning. I needed a regular blood test, the kind where you have to not eat after midnight. No problem in the evening. BIG problem in the morning. If I don't get my coffee and Cocoa Krispies, I don't function well. Yes, every day, without fail, coffee and a bowl of Cocoa Krispies. Since I was ten. (Well, not the coffee...) So I grouchily skipped breakfast and headed out early Wednesday morning for the lab, knowing there were loads of drive-thrus between the lab and work. About halfway there - BOOM!! Someone ran into the back of my car. No coffee, no cereal, and now, rear-ended. We pulled over, took a look - not bad at all - he gave me all his info, there was a baby in his car.....he was nice, I was nice, and I left and headed to the lab. Offering my arm was easy compared to skipping breakfast and getting hit! As I left the lab and headed for the drive-thru, I got a message on my phone. A message from a dear, far-away friend. It just said "Good Morning! You've been on my mind this morning...hope you have a great day! love and hugs!" I cried. I knew I needed to head straight to work, no down time to 'shake off' the events of the morning before teaching my large groups of darlings. And with that message, I was reminded that so many people out there are thinking about me and praying for me. It's the other thing, besides the precious little children, that give me the hope and the balance.
When we pray for, think about and encourage each other, we are storing up treasure in a much more important treasure box than the one in my classroom. I have been more aware, since my tragedy, of the sending of a card, or the sharing of some words of comfort. I'm not perfectly batting .1000, but I'm trying to reach out more. You see, little boy actually earned his treasure (yes, he got picked!) through the whole week. His 'prayer' was adorable, but his constancy of behavior won me over. I appreciate the constancy of encouragement that I get right now. Whether it's in the form of notes, words, smiles, conversations.....or prayer; I love you and thank you for balancing my days. And, along with little treasure boy, every now and then I can raise my fist and say "YES!" . Because I'm going to make it.
You see, as the 'ruler' of my classroom, I employ some 'tricks of the trade'. I had told the same little boy on Wednesday that he was having a WONDERFUL week, and that I could tell he was trying to get the treasure on Friday. The power of suggestion and dollar store goodies goes a long way in my little kingdom. I must clarify one thing: little boy is not a troublesome kid. He is also not perfect. He is a regular little boy. He knows that he talks when he shouldn't sometimes, and that he stuck his tongue out at a friend once. He is.....normal. And once in awhile, normal wins.
I love the hope that was expressed by this happening. I love the balance in this world. On the same Wednesday that I praised little boy, I had a horrible morning. I needed a regular blood test, the kind where you have to not eat after midnight. No problem in the evening. BIG problem in the morning. If I don't get my coffee and Cocoa Krispies, I don't function well. Yes, every day, without fail, coffee and a bowl of Cocoa Krispies. Since I was ten. (Well, not the coffee...) So I grouchily skipped breakfast and headed out early Wednesday morning for the lab, knowing there were loads of drive-thrus between the lab and work. About halfway there - BOOM!! Someone ran into the back of my car. No coffee, no cereal, and now, rear-ended. We pulled over, took a look - not bad at all - he gave me all his info, there was a baby in his car.....he was nice, I was nice, and I left and headed to the lab. Offering my arm was easy compared to skipping breakfast and getting hit! As I left the lab and headed for the drive-thru, I got a message on my phone. A message from a dear, far-away friend. It just said "Good Morning! You've been on my mind this morning...hope you have a great day! love and hugs!" I cried. I knew I needed to head straight to work, no down time to 'shake off' the events of the morning before teaching my large groups of darlings. And with that message, I was reminded that so many people out there are thinking about me and praying for me. It's the other thing, besides the precious little children, that give me the hope and the balance.
When we pray for, think about and encourage each other, we are storing up treasure in a much more important treasure box than the one in my classroom. I have been more aware, since my tragedy, of the sending of a card, or the sharing of some words of comfort. I'm not perfectly batting .1000, but I'm trying to reach out more. You see, little boy actually earned his treasure (yes, he got picked!) through the whole week. His 'prayer' was adorable, but his constancy of behavior won me over. I appreciate the constancy of encouragement that I get right now. Whether it's in the form of notes, words, smiles, conversations.....or prayer; I love you and thank you for balancing my days. And, along with little treasure boy, every now and then I can raise my fist and say "YES!" . Because I'm going to make it.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Practicing What I Preach or How to Act Like a Grown-Up 11/10/13
"He hit me!" "I did not!" "Yes, you did, your elbow hit me when you sat down!" Mrs. McCarty then intervenes: "If I accidentally stepped on your hand, would I say 'sorry' so, so quickly?" Elbow child; "Yes...." "Then say 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that' to her." Elbow child, mumbling, head down; "I'm sorry." Mrs. McCarty; "You didn't mean to do that, you're just saying you're sorry that it happened! That's how we are nice to each other!" Elbow child; nothing.
This happens at least once a week. In elementary school, little accidental bumps and jostles can be interpreted by the 'victim' as a crime against themselves and all of humanity. I always use myself as the example 'bad guy', because they know what my reaction would be. I'm so, so sweet and nice, and I would feel terrible if I stepped on their little hand (which does happen but only a couple times a year, so I have a great safety average! And no serious injuries ever, thank goodness.) By telling them to apologize for the fact that the mistake happened, I hope I'm teaching manners, maturity, responsibility, you name it. The thing is.....can I practice what I preach with adults?
In the process of walking through my grief, I present what I consider a very 'normal' outside. I work, laugh, joke, complain, suggest....all different from how I feel on the inside. I hide the sadness by instinct. It's not because of you that I hide it - it's because of me. Sometimes I go a little further than I want in the 'normal'. Evidently, one day, a while ago, I made a comment at lunch (based on a happening conversation, mind you...) that 'maybe there's someone out there for me'. I didn't mean now. I might not mean ever. It was an offhand comment, in context of the conversation. There was someone there, though, that took my words to heart.
This particular someone is on a totally different path, having been divorced for a long while, and recently seeing someone. A couple of weeks after my comment, this person seriously encouraged me to 'Go online, honey. Match.com, it worked for me.' I kind of said "Oh really!" and turned the conversation back to my people at my table. Later, I complained to friends. That bothered me. I was approaching only six months without him, how dare this person suggest such a thing right now? After I complained, and got the sufficient amount of pity from my net (what's a net? read this and find out: http://momastery.com/blog/2013/11/07/idea-title-im-even-sure-read-nets-well-call-nets/
I'm not on drugs, or bulimic, or getting arrested....and I have a net. I am more fortunate than young Glennon. I am also thankful that she has found her way in life and for her ability to inspire others. So...I complained to my net about that 'insensitive remark', got my assurances that I was right, that person was wrong, and was done with it. I mean, we love to complain to our friends and be assured that our view is the correct one, right? It's a national sport!
Well, it happened a second time. The person had reached a milestone in their new relationship, and was obviously (and rightly) elated. And once again, they took the chance to look at me and say 'Match.com, I'm tellin' ya, Ms. McCarty'. OH!!! I packed up what was left of my chips and yogurt and walked out. I found some net people. I told them, incensed. I got pity and confirmation (Thank you net!) And then, I realized.....for some reason, that person thinks that's OK, and this is going to keep happening unless I say something. Boy, did that let the air out of my balloon. I was going to have to address it, instead of complaining about it! I knew that as soon as I asked the person to stop, they would totally apologize, maybe even feel badly about having done it, but I DIDN'T WANT to talk to the person. I had turned into elbow kid!
It took two days. I knew I had to, and I knew I wanted to do it privately. I am the grown-up. When by chance I finally said...."You know, I'm just not ready to hear that, the match.com thing. Congratulations, so happy for you, but not me, not yet." The person apologized, said 'of course'.....and brought up the time I said 'maybe there's someone out there for me'. The person had taken me at my word. My 'trying to be normal' conversation turned on me, said 'Oh, this is what you want, eh?' and then I had to be a grown-up and say "Sorry, but please don't..." because of my mistake of being fake. I did it. I was the grown-up. My net applauded me. I, on the other hand, did not applaud myself, because I realized that my offhand comment had fed the whole situation.
Where do I go from here? If I am the grown-up I think I am, I guess I need to mix a little of my inner sadness in with my outer 'normal'. The icy covering needs to break and mix with the deep dark cold water of sorrow, and form a slush that can create a completely different attitude from either 'fake' or 'hidden'. I'm going to work on that. It's the grown-up thing to do.
A little addendum:
What if I had gone to the person accusingly? What if I had done it publicly? Too many people these days don't understand the good manners of taking turns to talk things over, and listening to the other side. Prime example: any 'political' news show where both parties or pundits that side with both parties are represented. They all end up yelling and interrupting, guests and hosts alike. I shudder to think that America bases its actions on what we see on the television. One of my main problem with politics in any forum is the lack of manners. How many families have talks about issues? How many do it the grown-up way? Do you listen and consider before you yell your defense? I have news for everyone - you're not always right. You're also sometimes only partially right. If you don't listen to what the other side says, you're compounding, not solving the problem.
This happens at least once a week. In elementary school, little accidental bumps and jostles can be interpreted by the 'victim' as a crime against themselves and all of humanity. I always use myself as the example 'bad guy', because they know what my reaction would be. I'm so, so sweet and nice, and I would feel terrible if I stepped on their little hand (which does happen but only a couple times a year, so I have a great safety average! And no serious injuries ever, thank goodness.) By telling them to apologize for the fact that the mistake happened, I hope I'm teaching manners, maturity, responsibility, you name it. The thing is.....can I practice what I preach with adults?
In the process of walking through my grief, I present what I consider a very 'normal' outside. I work, laugh, joke, complain, suggest....all different from how I feel on the inside. I hide the sadness by instinct. It's not because of you that I hide it - it's because of me. Sometimes I go a little further than I want in the 'normal'. Evidently, one day, a while ago, I made a comment at lunch (based on a happening conversation, mind you...) that 'maybe there's someone out there for me'. I didn't mean now. I might not mean ever. It was an offhand comment, in context of the conversation. There was someone there, though, that took my words to heart.
This particular someone is on a totally different path, having been divorced for a long while, and recently seeing someone. A couple of weeks after my comment, this person seriously encouraged me to 'Go online, honey. Match.com, it worked for me.' I kind of said "Oh really!" and turned the conversation back to my people at my table. Later, I complained to friends. That bothered me. I was approaching only six months without him, how dare this person suggest such a thing right now? After I complained, and got the sufficient amount of pity from my net (what's a net? read this and find out: http://momastery.com/blog/2013/11/07/idea-title-im-even-sure-read-nets-well-call-nets/
I'm not on drugs, or bulimic, or getting arrested....and I have a net. I am more fortunate than young Glennon. I am also thankful that she has found her way in life and for her ability to inspire others. So...I complained to my net about that 'insensitive remark', got my assurances that I was right, that person was wrong, and was done with it. I mean, we love to complain to our friends and be assured that our view is the correct one, right? It's a national sport!
Well, it happened a second time. The person had reached a milestone in their new relationship, and was obviously (and rightly) elated. And once again, they took the chance to look at me and say 'Match.com, I'm tellin' ya, Ms. McCarty'. OH!!! I packed up what was left of my chips and yogurt and walked out. I found some net people. I told them, incensed. I got pity and confirmation (Thank you net!) And then, I realized.....for some reason, that person thinks that's OK, and this is going to keep happening unless I say something. Boy, did that let the air out of my balloon. I was going to have to address it, instead of complaining about it! I knew that as soon as I asked the person to stop, they would totally apologize, maybe even feel badly about having done it, but I DIDN'T WANT to talk to the person. I had turned into elbow kid!
It took two days. I knew I had to, and I knew I wanted to do it privately. I am the grown-up. When by chance I finally said...."You know, I'm just not ready to hear that, the match.com thing. Congratulations, so happy for you, but not me, not yet." The person apologized, said 'of course'.....and brought up the time I said 'maybe there's someone out there for me'. The person had taken me at my word. My 'trying to be normal' conversation turned on me, said 'Oh, this is what you want, eh?' and then I had to be a grown-up and say "Sorry, but please don't..." because of my mistake of being fake. I did it. I was the grown-up. My net applauded me. I, on the other hand, did not applaud myself, because I realized that my offhand comment had fed the whole situation.
Where do I go from here? If I am the grown-up I think I am, I guess I need to mix a little of my inner sadness in with my outer 'normal'. The icy covering needs to break and mix with the deep dark cold water of sorrow, and form a slush that can create a completely different attitude from either 'fake' or 'hidden'. I'm going to work on that. It's the grown-up thing to do.
A little addendum:
What if I had gone to the person accusingly? What if I had done it publicly? Too many people these days don't understand the good manners of taking turns to talk things over, and listening to the other side. Prime example: any 'political' news show where both parties or pundits that side with both parties are represented. They all end up yelling and interrupting, guests and hosts alike. I shudder to think that America bases its actions on what we see on the television. One of my main problem with politics in any forum is the lack of manners. How many families have talks about issues? How many do it the grown-up way? Do you listen and consider before you yell your defense? I have news for everyone - you're not always right. You're also sometimes only partially right. If you don't listen to what the other side says, you're compounding, not solving the problem.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
I've Had Enough. (The one you have to look to find because I tell the truth) 11/5/13
I've had enough of some people. Stop. Just stop. Don't tell me how to find a man. It will be six months in a couple of days, and my heart still thinks he'll walk through the door. There are so many things for him to do. How am I supposed to know how to contact his Norwegian accountant, much less pay Norwegian taxes? I can see it now - little Norway police arriving at my school, asking for me and arresting me, even though I don't have a dragon tattoo! How much is 629 in Norwegian, anyway?
Work gets in the way. Yes, I've said in other posts that it's my salvation, but sometimes, it feels as it I'm back in the music building. You know, posing as a music major. I always felt that way, because I didn't have that "Ahhhhh!" attitude about all the classical music stuff. I would rather be out eating pizza or kissing on my boyfriend than practicing until 1 a.m. For that I was weird? These days, there are the 1 a.m. people in elementary school. Okay, maybe 7 p.m. But I don't share that desire. That building gets me - all of me - wholeheartedly - (well, I fake that occasionally) - from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. After that, I'm not the music teacher anymore. I'm back to being me. The widow. The single mom. The caretaker of the house/pets/accounts/vehicles/pool/you-name-it-I'm-in-charge-of-it. When I need to locate four particular papers for the accountant, two more for the lawyer, and do a couple of hours of homework for the financial planner, I really feel as if work needs to go away. Is there such thing as widow's leave? There needs to be, and it needs to be the type of leave that can be spread out for when you need it most.
I rant here, and I want attention here. I write because I want people to read this and understand (which you do) and give me an encouraging comment (which you do). I am an attention hog with a blog. Please don't hate me. Let me down gently. At six months of grief, that will be the only gentle thing that happens. Life moves on, and I'm expected to move with it. And I have. At a limp. If you know me, you see it. If you don't know me, I look "so strong". Hell, what else am I supposed to do, stay under the covers for days on end? I wish. I wish my personality allowed me to be a bit more of a delicate flower. Unfortunately, I am not. I would control everything if I could. Only if I physically can't or get absolutely shut down do I not exercise control over a situation. Man, oh man, did death laugh at me. I shouted at it, cried to it, and have sulked behind it for all these months. I don't like you, death.
I don't like a lot of things right now, and one of those things is people that "do it wrong". Thank goodness, there are only a few of those around me, probably because I keep my shield up almost all the time. There I go again, being positive behind a negative, because I can't group punish! Not everybody is bad! I just want to say, bad ones: just shut up. I'm done with you. I will leave the room or I will say "Not talking about that right now, thanks". Or just: (my favorite from England) "Can't". It must be said with a British accent, though. And if I do that, some American might not even know what I'm saying, or might think it's naughty.
If you found this post, know that I'm done. This is hard. I've had to learn a new way of defending myself. Until the insensitive idiots out there can stop, maybe learn, maybe change their demeanor; or at least until they shut up......my armor is on, but I'm now armed, and I might stick it to you a time or two. Someone should.
Work gets in the way. Yes, I've said in other posts that it's my salvation, but sometimes, it feels as it I'm back in the music building. You know, posing as a music major. I always felt that way, because I didn't have that "Ahhhhh!" attitude about all the classical music stuff. I would rather be out eating pizza or kissing on my boyfriend than practicing until 1 a.m. For that I was weird? These days, there are the 1 a.m. people in elementary school. Okay, maybe 7 p.m. But I don't share that desire. That building gets me - all of me - wholeheartedly - (well, I fake that occasionally) - from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. After that, I'm not the music teacher anymore. I'm back to being me. The widow. The single mom. The caretaker of the house/pets/accounts/vehicles/pool/you-name-it-I'm-in-charge-of-it. When I need to locate four particular papers for the accountant, two more for the lawyer, and do a couple of hours of homework for the financial planner, I really feel as if work needs to go away. Is there such thing as widow's leave? There needs to be, and it needs to be the type of leave that can be spread out for when you need it most.
I rant here, and I want attention here. I write because I want people to read this and understand (which you do) and give me an encouraging comment (which you do). I am an attention hog with a blog. Please don't hate me. Let me down gently. At six months of grief, that will be the only gentle thing that happens. Life moves on, and I'm expected to move with it. And I have. At a limp. If you know me, you see it. If you don't know me, I look "so strong". Hell, what else am I supposed to do, stay under the covers for days on end? I wish. I wish my personality allowed me to be a bit more of a delicate flower. Unfortunately, I am not. I would control everything if I could. Only if I physically can't or get absolutely shut down do I not exercise control over a situation. Man, oh man, did death laugh at me. I shouted at it, cried to it, and have sulked behind it for all these months. I don't like you, death.
I don't like a lot of things right now, and one of those things is people that "do it wrong". Thank goodness, there are only a few of those around me, probably because I keep my shield up almost all the time. There I go again, being positive behind a negative, because I can't group punish! Not everybody is bad! I just want to say, bad ones: just shut up. I'm done with you. I will leave the room or I will say "Not talking about that right now, thanks". Or just: (my favorite from England) "Can't". It must be said with a British accent, though. And if I do that, some American might not even know what I'm saying, or might think it's naughty.
If you found this post, know that I'm done. This is hard. I've had to learn a new way of defending myself. Until the insensitive idiots out there can stop, maybe learn, maybe change their demeanor; or at least until they shut up......my armor is on, but I'm now armed, and I might stick it to you a time or two. Someone should.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
How Gratefulness Fits 11/3/13
I saw a couple of posts on November 1st. "I am thankful for..." Some even included the "30 days of thankfulness" challenge. It's a great exercise, coming up with something different and not necessarily the same cookie-cutter sayings. Some of the ones I read are quite amusing. I considered trying it, but I just can't. It's not that I don't have so much for which to be grateful. It's just that I; 1) am afraid to commit to anything not required right now and 2) am afraid that rooting around in my brain for something new every day will dredge up anger and hopelessness instead of thankfulness.
I am probably one of the most grateful people in the world this year. Yes, I am a widow. But, as my widow friend Ann says (about herself, and I am in agreement about me), I am in better shape than 90% of any other widows. He left us in good shape financially and that enables me to face the rest of life, even if it is without him. I don't know what shape I would be in if that were not the case. I don't even like to think about it. He left us the greatest gift he could by being smart with financial planning, and for that I am repeating "thank you, thank you so much" in my head at all times.
I am so grateful for my family. My precious girls have stepped up and shown themselves to be determined to do well in school and help out when necessary by working also. My Mom and Dad are there whenever I need them, as are my sisters. Scott's family is still my own - they check on me and let me know I still belong with them. I am grateful for my "family of friends" (sorry, Peter Frampton, I had to borrow that!), the ones that make sure I get out and do things and don't become a hermit, and the ones that take the time at work to stop, talk a minute, be there at special events - I am surrounded by wonderful, smart, kind people.
I am grateful for my job. Even though I get ready every morning in an empty house, and make sure I turn off everything before I leave, because nobody else is there, within an hour or so I'm in a noisy, boisterous, mostly happy crowd of children. They are funny, they are smart, they are like sponges when I find the right presentation of my subject (or any other item up for discussion!) You know how you tear your cuticle, or get a paper cut on your fingertip? And then when you put a Band-Aid on there kind of tight, it doesn't hurt as much? That's how I feel during the school day. I feel as if there's a tight Band-Aid around the pain and it simmers down and lets me teach and enjoy my little darlings.
At home, the Band-Aid feeling kind of disappears, but there are four lovely creatures that do their best toannoy soothe me. How did we ever end up with four pets? Cuddles, Marylebone, Roxy and Gordon are the light of my home life. If you do have pets, then you know that their personalities are individual and adorable. Some days, I know I have to get out of bed, only because Cuddles has to have her thyroid medication. When I get home each day, the house is not empty. I am greeted by loads of tail-wagging and meowing. Some nights, when I can't sleep, both dogs snuggle close to me, whether I talk or cry. And Roxy, well, Roxy just doesn't let anyone do anything she doesn't like, and insists upon them doing what she does like. (In a very loud voice, of course.) Thank goodness, one of the things she does like is sitting on my lap and being my friend.
So, you see, I am extremely thankful. I love the fact that America has a Thanksgiving Day, but even more, I love people that keep thankfulness in their hearts all year 'round. Thank you notes, Facebook messages and statuses, e-mails, phone calls, cards.......I'm not perfect, by any means, but I try. My friends do, too. You, my friends, are welcome to show the social media world the 30 things you are thankful for each day this month - I enjoy reading them! But I know you better than that. I know that you are grateful for life and its blessings year-round. As am I.
I am probably one of the most grateful people in the world this year. Yes, I am a widow. But, as my widow friend Ann says (about herself, and I am in agreement about me), I am in better shape than 90% of any other widows. He left us in good shape financially and that enables me to face the rest of life, even if it is without him. I don't know what shape I would be in if that were not the case. I don't even like to think about it. He left us the greatest gift he could by being smart with financial planning, and for that I am repeating "thank you, thank you so much" in my head at all times.
I am so grateful for my family. My precious girls have stepped up and shown themselves to be determined to do well in school and help out when necessary by working also. My Mom and Dad are there whenever I need them, as are my sisters. Scott's family is still my own - they check on me and let me know I still belong with them. I am grateful for my "family of friends" (sorry, Peter Frampton, I had to borrow that!), the ones that make sure I get out and do things and don't become a hermit, and the ones that take the time at work to stop, talk a minute, be there at special events - I am surrounded by wonderful, smart, kind people.
I am grateful for my job. Even though I get ready every morning in an empty house, and make sure I turn off everything before I leave, because nobody else is there, within an hour or so I'm in a noisy, boisterous, mostly happy crowd of children. They are funny, they are smart, they are like sponges when I find the right presentation of my subject (or any other item up for discussion!) You know how you tear your cuticle, or get a paper cut on your fingertip? And then when you put a Band-Aid on there kind of tight, it doesn't hurt as much? That's how I feel during the school day. I feel as if there's a tight Band-Aid around the pain and it simmers down and lets me teach and enjoy my little darlings.
At home, the Band-Aid feeling kind of disappears, but there are four lovely creatures that do their best to
So, you see, I am extremely thankful. I love the fact that America has a Thanksgiving Day, but even more, I love people that keep thankfulness in their hearts all year 'round. Thank you notes, Facebook messages and statuses, e-mails, phone calls, cards.......I'm not perfect, by any means, but I try. My friends do, too. You, my friends, are welcome to show the social media world the 30 things you are thankful for each day this month - I enjoy reading them! But I know you better than that. I know that you are grateful for life and its blessings year-round. As am I.
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Have-tos and Shoulds 11/2/13
What a week! I knew I was a little behind on sleep/chores/TV due to my manic birthday weekend. I didn't expect the compilation of all the tiredness/busy-ness/catching up to kick my butt all the way to Friday. But so it did. There is so much that I should be doing! I sit now, typing, waiting for cold medicine to unclog at least one nostril so I can try to take a little nap. How did I get to this point? I don't really want to ever be dependent on anything - especially to unclog any part of me!! Let's see if I can re-trace my steps and find what little misstep led me here.
Last Friday, 10/25: Got the flu shot. Generally a good idea. A little sore arm later in the day, but mentally anticipating wonderful health all winter while everyone else shivers, coughs, and sneezes. Perhaps it is to blame for this malady I am suffering a week later? It wouldn't be the first time that my superior attitude has made me pay a hefty price. Who knows?
Last weekend: Can't be to blame, tiring but wonderful. I did spend each weekend day in very public places, perhaps being exposed to new germs, even though I am an extremely careful hand-washer. For the most part, though, a wonderful weekend.
Monday: Ah, school. Nothing like a day at school to turn on the auto-pilot. Get up, get dressed, put on makeup, drink coffee.....I've taught meter a thousand times, and beat vs. rhythm even more. I was so determined to not let the busy weekend affect me (like an old person...) that I went straight for my walk after work, then went to the grocery store. I came home, had dinner and caught up on two sitcoms before watching 'Dancing With the Stars'. Ok, kind of an old person anyway, but a decent day. I always play Candy Crush while watching 'Dancing'. Near the end of the show, my phone just turned off. Never to come back on. Instead of heading to bed to beat the 11:00 hour, I was on the phone with Verizon, who had me try some phone gymnastics, none of which did anything. At that point, they said they would send another phone overnight, but it wouldn't ship until Tuesday, so I wouldn't get it until Wednesday. I convinced myself I could survive and went to sleep.
Tuesday: It feels weird to spend a day without a cell phone. I notified those closest, and survived it, but it feels weird. I felt a little sad all day, not being able to peek at social media and see what all my friends were up to! I also found out that I had done something in the wrong order at work, which would reflect on someone else. Of all the "things" that happen in adult life, I get most depressed if something I do gets someone else in trouble. Evidently, in the district, before you order t-shirts for a group, you are supposed to request a purchase order and guess how many will be ordered. If you wait until the actual number of orders, money and invoice have come in, you've done it wrong. Go figure. (It did make me feel a little better that an administrator had made the same mistake..) I felt down, sad, tired, and went home with every intention of taking poor Cuddles (also known as thyroid-cat) to the new vet. I sat down. I got sadder and more tired. I called my mom and cried. I felt the weight of all the 'shoulds' in my life, and the fact that only I'm left to do them. I didn't take Cuddles on Tuesday. I put in for a half-day sick day on Wednesday to take care of that and get some rest, or do some "shoulds".
Wednesday: Early morning choir! Yes, an extra rehearsal for my babies, to help memory for Saturday's performance. I just torture myself, don't I? Gladly taught the morning through, knowing I could leave at noon. Nobody had picked up the substitute job, though. That is not my fault or my responsibility. I followed the correct procedure for entering an absence. Somehow, though, we are made to feel guilty that somebody will have to cover if we're out. Guess what? I stopped feeling guilty about that last May. I am allotted a certain number of sick and personal days, and it's no body's business when I take them and what I do with them. The district (or better yet, the bosses) can get over it. One friend this week told me that one of the bosses actually asked her if she really needed to go to the doctor, and asked what she was going for! Pretty sure that's illegal......I actually hope they ask me that sometime! That friend has accumulated over fifty days, by the way. Anyway, as I taught through the morning, I felt sniffles, a sore throat and a headache. Whatever sickness karma there is was telling me if I was going home at noon, by golly, I was going to be sick! I managed to take Cuddles to the vet, first of many visits to solve many problems, then went home and rested. Got the new phone. It didn't work. Called Verizon, they sent another. Holy cow! Felt worse. Couldn't breathe, didn't walk, tried to go to bed early, another choir rehearsal awaited in the morning!
Thursday: Halloween!! Super Duper Rain!! Sure enough, very rainy, flooded streets, the 25 minute drive took 45 minutes, sniffy nose, worried about choir, t-shirts, many other things. But children? They don't care about any of that if it's Halloween! They only know that candy is in their future! I have this to say to all of those who nay-say Halloween based on any origin involving evil........for the past fifty years, it has been about nothing but merchandising. Costume and candy sales with the easiest target consumer in the world - the kid. Kids don't care who you worship as long as they get some Skittles. Just have fun! (In saying that, attending some of the church -sponsored 'trunk or treats' have been our most fun years!) So school was busy, because the kids have to be distracted from the fact that it's Halloween!! The t-shirts arrived, all work was completed, move on to the evening. I was a zombie. No, I didn't dress up. I just couldn't breathe or taste, so I sat back and let everybody else celebrate, eat, trick-or-treat. I set up the second new phone. I answered the door. I hope I didn't pass out too many germs with the candy!
Friday was an exhaustion day. In preparation for Saturday's concert, t-shirts were passed out, music and sound equipment packed up, last minute e-mails answered and sent, and all by sore, tired, can't-breathe me. I went home, and prepared for a nap. Unfortunately, I have to be able to breathe through my nose a bit in order to sleep. I will let you know what worked and how this ends. I got so tired typing all of this that I thought "No wonder I got sick - just think how tiring it is actually doing all that!" And that, my friends, is dedicated to every teacher everywhere. Just do the "have-tos" and maybe you'll have a little left for the "shoulds". If you don't, there's always the weekend.
Last Friday, 10/25: Got the flu shot. Generally a good idea. A little sore arm later in the day, but mentally anticipating wonderful health all winter while everyone else shivers, coughs, and sneezes. Perhaps it is to blame for this malady I am suffering a week later? It wouldn't be the first time that my superior attitude has made me pay a hefty price. Who knows?
Last weekend: Can't be to blame, tiring but wonderful. I did spend each weekend day in very public places, perhaps being exposed to new germs, even though I am an extremely careful hand-washer. For the most part, though, a wonderful weekend.
Monday: Ah, school. Nothing like a day at school to turn on the auto-pilot. Get up, get dressed, put on makeup, drink coffee.....I've taught meter a thousand times, and beat vs. rhythm even more. I was so determined to not let the busy weekend affect me (like an old person...) that I went straight for my walk after work, then went to the grocery store. I came home, had dinner and caught up on two sitcoms before watching 'Dancing With the Stars'. Ok, kind of an old person anyway, but a decent day. I always play Candy Crush while watching 'Dancing'. Near the end of the show, my phone just turned off. Never to come back on. Instead of heading to bed to beat the 11:00 hour, I was on the phone with Verizon, who had me try some phone gymnastics, none of which did anything. At that point, they said they would send another phone overnight, but it wouldn't ship until Tuesday, so I wouldn't get it until Wednesday. I convinced myself I could survive and went to sleep.
Tuesday: It feels weird to spend a day without a cell phone. I notified those closest, and survived it, but it feels weird. I felt a little sad all day, not being able to peek at social media and see what all my friends were up to! I also found out that I had done something in the wrong order at work, which would reflect on someone else. Of all the "things" that happen in adult life, I get most depressed if something I do gets someone else in trouble. Evidently, in the district, before you order t-shirts for a group, you are supposed to request a purchase order and guess how many will be ordered. If you wait until the actual number of orders, money and invoice have come in, you've done it wrong. Go figure. (It did make me feel a little better that an administrator had made the same mistake..) I felt down, sad, tired, and went home with every intention of taking poor Cuddles (also known as thyroid-cat) to the new vet. I sat down. I got sadder and more tired. I called my mom and cried. I felt the weight of all the 'shoulds' in my life, and the fact that only I'm left to do them. I didn't take Cuddles on Tuesday. I put in for a half-day sick day on Wednesday to take care of that and get some rest, or do some "shoulds".
Wednesday: Early morning choir! Yes, an extra rehearsal for my babies, to help memory for Saturday's performance. I just torture myself, don't I? Gladly taught the morning through, knowing I could leave at noon. Nobody had picked up the substitute job, though. That is not my fault or my responsibility. I followed the correct procedure for entering an absence. Somehow, though, we are made to feel guilty that somebody will have to cover if we're out. Guess what? I stopped feeling guilty about that last May. I am allotted a certain number of sick and personal days, and it's no body's business when I take them and what I do with them. The district (or better yet, the bosses) can get over it. One friend this week told me that one of the bosses actually asked her if she really needed to go to the doctor, and asked what she was going for! Pretty sure that's illegal......I actually hope they ask me that sometime! That friend has accumulated over fifty days, by the way. Anyway, as I taught through the morning, I felt sniffles, a sore throat and a headache. Whatever sickness karma there is was telling me if I was going home at noon, by golly, I was going to be sick! I managed to take Cuddles to the vet, first of many visits to solve many problems, then went home and rested. Got the new phone. It didn't work. Called Verizon, they sent another. Holy cow! Felt worse. Couldn't breathe, didn't walk, tried to go to bed early, another choir rehearsal awaited in the morning!
Thursday: Halloween!! Super Duper Rain!! Sure enough, very rainy, flooded streets, the 25 minute drive took 45 minutes, sniffy nose, worried about choir, t-shirts, many other things. But children? They don't care about any of that if it's Halloween! They only know that candy is in their future! I have this to say to all of those who nay-say Halloween based on any origin involving evil........for the past fifty years, it has been about nothing but merchandising. Costume and candy sales with the easiest target consumer in the world - the kid. Kids don't care who you worship as long as they get some Skittles. Just have fun! (In saying that, attending some of the church -sponsored 'trunk or treats' have been our most fun years!) So school was busy, because the kids have to be distracted from the fact that it's Halloween!! The t-shirts arrived, all work was completed, move on to the evening. I was a zombie. No, I didn't dress up. I just couldn't breathe or taste, so I sat back and let everybody else celebrate, eat, trick-or-treat. I set up the second new phone. I answered the door. I hope I didn't pass out too many germs with the candy!
Friday was an exhaustion day. In preparation for Saturday's concert, t-shirts were passed out, music and sound equipment packed up, last minute e-mails answered and sent, and all by sore, tired, can't-breathe me. I went home, and prepared for a nap. Unfortunately, I have to be able to breathe through my nose a bit in order to sleep. I will let you know what worked and how this ends. I got so tired typing all of this that I thought "No wonder I got sick - just think how tiring it is actually doing all that!" And that, my friends, is dedicated to every teacher everywhere. Just do the "have-tos" and maybe you'll have a little left for the "shoulds". If you don't, there's always the weekend.
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