what i thought i wanted. . .what i got instead

A Kincaid update

2010-08-30T22:39:00.005-06:00

This picture makes me laugh because they both have the same expression. I took this when we went huckleberry picking a couple of weeks ago.

Kincaid is now 15 months old. I want to stop and admire this age, because tomorrow he might start teething again or be otherwise difficult for whatever reason.

Right now, though, and generally so far, he is a happy, curious, loving, active little boy and I love him to pieces. He is so much fun and I feel beyond lucky that our circumstances (kind of--if we really owned up to ALL our circumstances I'd be working three jobs and so would Travis, but oh well.) allow me to be home with him. Working from home is difficult and frustrating--I'm feeling ready to teach in a face-to-face classroom again, even if I do keep up the online teaching gig.

That aside, I wanted to share what Kincaid's been up to and how much fun he is at this age. Seasoned mothers tell me that each age seems like the best as you're going through it the first time, and that's fine--I agree. I loved 3 months because it was the end of the true newborn stage. He was more responsive, moving more, and smiling. He spit up less and pooped less often. He was more active and seemed happier.

I loved 5-6 months because he was learning to sit up and look at the world in a new way. He slept a little longer and played a little more. He smiled and laughed and was more able to show his like and dislike of things. He started to eat real food.

I loved 7-9 months because he was trying to crawl and was at a stage where he would just chill with me while I read to him. He was just starting to be interested in stories and hearing my voice read and sing, but not quite adept at turning (or trying to rip) pages. At this point we're in board book only territory.

At 12 months he was fully mobile and loved to be outside (as he still does) and loves his daddy and his doggie. His first real word was "doggie" (oggie.) He was pulling up and cruising around furniture and exploring the different corners of the house. Still generally happy, not much of an eater--too much to do.

Now, at 15 months, he's on the cusp of walking and is so proud of himself when he stands for a long time on his own. He picks up sign language easily which makes life SO much easier for us. For example, just today he crawled over to me, did the sign for "sleep," and laid his head on my lap. So sweet. I took him back to his room, did the naptime routine, and he was down with no trouble. That rarely happens but I'm praying for a trend.

He adores being outdoors and I think he'd go on two hikes a day if we could. Today was rainy and chilly but we did a stroller walk (it has a rain cover) and he was totally content. Being indoors does not suit him one bit. He loves going up and down the stairs, mostly to stand up at the screen door and look outside at the back steps. (We live in a daylight basement so we have two half-flights of stairs leading out of the apartment.) If I let the dog out in the morning but don't "let Kincaid out," he cries and is mad.

I notice that he understands and responds appropriately to many things that I say. When he gets mad and I know why he's mad, I can say, "You're mad because we aren't going outside right now. That is OK; we will go outside after breakfast" and he will stop crying. He is pretty verbal for a boy (according to the stats) and mimics a lot of words. He's still not getting the "D" sound, so "daddy" is "Ah-ee," and "doggie" is "oggie." Mama, however, is loud and clear!

Yes, he still wakes up at night, and yes, he's still nursing, and yes, I'm sure I'll do things differently if I have other kids, but he's my first, and I'm supposed to make mistakes and be naive, right? Besides the fog I've lived in for the past year and a half, I love this kid more than life.

Because of him, I view every person differently, especially my students. Because they are someone's child, I know how special they are. Before I had my own kid, I certainly thought highly of my students and wanted the best for them, but I find that my more difficult students are easier to handle now. Maybe it's because they don't wake me up at 1, 3, 5, and 7 a.m.? (By the way, that's a bad night, but it's not too uncommon, and yes, we're working on it, and no, I won't use the BabyWise method.)

He loves music and I'm currently experimenting with different lullaby CDs from the library, hoping for some magical cure. I like the Putamayo World Lullabies CD the best. So far I know that he does not like "Jesus Loves Me--Fast Asleep!" because he woke up about 30 times the night I played that one. Yes, I turned it off around 2 a.m.

My mom bought him a drum that he loves to hit, and I got him a xylophone that he will bang on as well. I so wish we had a piano, but I will have one again someday. He isn't much of a TV watcher but I put on Sesame Street anyway. I don't buy the "TV lowers your kid's IQ" business. He isn't even watching it, and an hour of TV a day, five days a week is not going to harm anyone. I barely turn the thing on lest I get sucked in to an episode of Martha Steward Living. Who can watch that daytime junk anyway? I'll admit to an occasional viewing of The Today Show, but they're all in such a hurry to tell you about the best ways to serve punch at a party that I get a little overwhelmed. So, we turn on KGLT, our local alternative radio station, (not alternative music, but alternative as in, they don't play the same stuff all the time) and jam out.

He's still kind of scared of the beautiful rocking horse Travis's dad made, but he's intrigued still. He will climb on it and rock it, but he will cry if I put him on it to rock like it's made to be used. Baby steps.

He's kind of over the Johnny Jump-up and I joke about making a run for it from the kitchen to the living room so he can walk around in it. Would that be inhumane? A baby zip-line of sorts? I think it's brilliant personally.

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to wean him. I have a love-hate relationship with breastfeeding right now. I'm still not back to my usual clothing size, but I'm damn close. I'm easily in a 10 and I'm usually a 6/8ish. I was in a 16 after him, so this is progress, ya'll. It's been a slow but steady loss. I'm convinced these last 10lbs or so aren't going anywhere until I give up breastfeeding. I'm ready, but he is not. I'm hoping that with walking will come lessened interest. I am torn between the theory of child-led weaning and forced weaning. I'm trying a gentle, slow approach. He will go to bed without nursing but wakes up later wanting it. The "don't offer, don't refuse" theory sort of works, except I already know when he's going to ask for it so I usually just offer instead of waiting for the inevitable (loud) request. And no, he doesn't scream, "WANT BOOBIE!!" He just screams. I think the day he screams audible words like that, the game's over, kid.

He loves putting things on his head, and sort of says "hat." He does the sign for hat which clears up any confusion. Anything that stays on his head for a few seconds is a hat. He especially likes my hats, Travis's hats, and kitchen towels.

Well, since he'll probably be up and needing something soon (earlier he woke up and I tried to let him cry for a few minutes thinking he could handle going back to sleep himself--then discovered he desperately needed a diaper change--I always feel guilty when that happens), I'll stop gushing about my cute and wonderful baby boy and go to bed myself. The forecast low is 33 tonight and we don't have the heat on. I might set it to click on at 65 just in case. I can use the baby as an excuse, right? Most of the time I feel quite acclimated to this Montana weather after living in the South my whole life, but when it comes to my house, I like to be warm.

What now?

2010-08-26T21:59:00.005-06:00

Or....

Or...

Many of you know this, but for the past five months or so, we've been seriously considering (and looking for jobs to make it possible) a move back South. North Carolina, to be exact. Why? Many reasons--the biggest of which is the need and desire to be closer to my family (or any family--Boise was also considered) and to give Trav an opportunity to go to school. NC was the best bet: my dad and stepmom are there, it's closer to my family in FL and other places in the region, and it offers job opportunity for me and school choices for Travis. It also provides the same recreational choices we love about Montana: fly fishing, hiking, (some) skiing, four seasons, and relatively scarce population.

Well, tonight I learned that my dad, for several legitimate reasons, may leave NC at some point. He was giving me a head's up so that we could rethink our moving decision. I greatly appreciate this, clearly, but I am also a little bummed. NC seemed so perfect; the best of both worlds--the South, but not too hot. Close, but not too close, to FL where my sister and mom are. Different, but not too different from Montana. Of course, we could still try to move there, but there's a chance we may not have the family we hoped for.

In addition, I've had zero luck securing a job there, and the prospects are not good. I suppose they're bad everywhere, but the unemployment rate there is quite high. I imagine they will hire locals over some unknown lady from Montana.

So, while I still desperately want to move away from Bozeman, we have new choices to consider. I have stated countless times that I will NEVER move back to Florida. I would like to stay true to that word. However, the thought of giving Travis a taste of the culture in which I grew up (he grew up in Boise, Idaho) is attractive to me. I think he'd understand me better if he experienced the South in all its glory. The heat and humidity keep me away, though. If I had to pick just once place where I know I could be reasonably happy (even though I'd be sweaty) because I'd have a nearly instant support system and family close by, I'd choose Tallahassee. However, I'm not sure the job prospects are any better there than they are in Asheville.

However, I also feel driven to go back to Plan A, which was Boise to begin with. Whereas Boise: Travis :: Melbourne: Meagan, we could live in a different area from where he grew up and it could feel significantly different. We'd have his parents and grandmother, plus his network of friends (some of whom are parents, too). Boise also offers a good university, community colleges, and a ground campus of my current employer: The University of Phoenix. Not sure I could get a job with them there (or that I'd want to necessarily), but it's an option.

To me, Boise seemed like a solid option since it also offered the recreational options we enjoy, it's still out West, which I prefer, and the climate is relatively mild. It also has a bigger airport with more options for me to fly home.

I find change exciting, but also infuriating. I want to just pick up and GO and not have to deal with the job hunt and the uncertainty. I want to BE where we're going to be for a while and feel as if I can put roots down. Here, I feel as if I can't really invest in the community since I plan to be gone soon. Is that a mistake? Should I just jump in and be part of things while I'm here? I suppose I am doing that, since I'm attending (but haven't joined) a church here. I've made a friend or two, and I've volunteered to co-facilitate a valley-wide women's Bible study this fall. I like to be part of things and feel as if I'm invested in a place. It's not difficult to do that here, but I want to do more. I'm eager to volunteer with the church youth group again. I miss working with teenagers and I have always found so much fulfillment from those experiences. I always learn more from those kids than they could ever learn from me! But I don't want to jump in only to leave a few months later. I feel guilty whenever I get to know kids and then leave. I don't want to be that person--I want to be committed and deeply rooted.

Oh, I should mention that one of the major reasons why we can't really take root here is the cost of living. I can't find sustainable work here, and neither can Travis. Plus, this town doesn't offer a good school solution for Travis. Even if it did, I couldn't make enough teaching to support us living here. Housing costs alone are absurd. Boise and NC both simply had more options. NC's cost of living is significantly lower. Boise's is somewhat lower, too, and because it's a larger area, it has community colleges as well as universities. We need options, folks.

Letter to Parents Magazine, May 2010

2010-06-04T14:04:00.002-06:00

Just thought I'd share the whole text. I sound a little angry and judgmental, but it captures how I felt as soon as I finished reading the article. I do realize that $75,000 of income for a family of four is not "rich," but it would certainly feel rich to me and many other families I know.

I literally snorted in disgust and disbelief at the article, "Secrets of Couples Who Don't Fight About Money." Truthfully, it was the subtitle that make me roll my eyes: "They're not rich...." Not rich? The lowest income in the article was $75,000/year! Try getting some advice from couples who make around $35,000 -$40,000 which is what we're lucky to pull in here in Montana. Especially during a recession. If we were bringing in $80,000, we wouldn't be fighting about money, either! The advice in the articles was generally good, but it's hard for a struggling family to take an article seriously when these families are obviously comfortable. They're renting condos in the summer and paying extra on their mortgages, while most of us are deferring school loans (again) and renting small homes. Even one more realistic representation of America would have improved the trustworthiness of this article.

To the woman who thinks she can judge me

2010-04-20T22:54:00.002-06:00

Today, my landlord, who offered to clean the carpets in Kincaid's room after the mold eradication, said something to me that made me feel about an inch tall and incapable of mothering my son any further. She is not a mother. She offered to do this for us, and I'm beginning to wonder if she only offers to do things so that she then has the freedom to give us guilt trips about all the "man hours" she's spent helping us. The current tally is 25. She says she wants no payback one day, that she just wants to help because she knows we're overwhelmed, and the next day she says, "I hope you're enjoying your trip, because I've been working since you left." Does she want to do us a favor, or is she just out to build up the guilt?

I told her that we would clean the carpets next weekend. She said, "We'll just do it while you're gone, it will be easier." I told her that we would pay for the rental of the steam cleaner. She said, "Oh no, we'll use it, too, and get our bedroom carpet clean." I then said that we'd like to at least split the cost, as it's our responsibility to do this. She shooed that idea and said she was happy to do it for us.

Today, Kincaid and I stopped in to say thank you, as the house looked good and they'd also done a once-over on the living room carpet that was exposed.

We chatted about our trip, and how exhausting it was to take three flights each way, etc... At some point she stopped and said, "Well, I have this to say after spending 25 man hours cleaning down there (meaning in our apartment).You would probably all be healthier if you lived in a cleaner environment."

I think I responded with something like, "We do our best; it's hard with me working from home and taking care of a baby, too." What I wanted to say was, "If you want to judge how clean we're able to keep our home, perhaps you should live a week in our shoes first, and find out how much time you have to devote to floorboards and dusting picture frames."

Or something much nastier.

Truthfully, the mold is a product of several variables, which are perhaps the result of poor planning on our part, but are not the result of us being dirty people or bad parents. To give some background, Kincaid's bedroom is at the back corner of the house. Two walls are outside walls. One wall is against a closet, the other against the bathroom. Right outside of his room is a washer and dryer. This winter, because his windows were so drafty and leaky, making his room about 10 degrees colder than the rest of the house and wasting heat, we put plastic film on the windows like most people do around here, to keep the heat in. In addition, at the advice of our doctor to help with cold symptoms and breathing at night, we ran a humidifier.

No ventilation + humidifier + proximity to the bathroom and washer/dryer = MOLD.

We didn't find the mold until February. It was hiding behind a coat in the closet. We immediately cleaned it with bleach solution, removed the plastic (even though it was still freezing), and tried to keep the room more ventilated.

Of course, we told our landlords about the mold, and they were unhappy with us that it had come back. Around 2006, they put in a good amount of money cleaning up after this place flooded due to bad plumbing. They replaced half the carpet and had any mold (mostly under the carpet and behind the drywall) removed and replaced parts of the walls. Mold had already been here. I imagine that to them, seeing it return was frustrating. We were only trying to do two things: Keep our baby warm and breathing. It didn't occur to us at the time that those two things together would create the perfect environment for mold. Looking back, of course, it seems obvious. When our landlords heard that we'd had plastic on the windows, they were angry.

Well, I think anyone would put plastic on windows that were as drafty as these, especially in a baby's room. We were also facing high heating costs over this eternal winter from hell. Conveniently, they looked more closely at the windows and discovered they needed some maintenance. Surprise.

So, our landlord, on her own, offered to come clean the walls in Kincaid's room and clean the carpets. I offered to do it myself, and she said that it would be too hard for me to do it while taking care of Kincaid. Now I'm thinking she just thought I was incapable. I don't know what she thinks of me, but it sure is different from how she treats me.

Part of me wants to tell her she should either be up front and real with me, or just not bother to help us anymore. If she isn't going to offer help without also expecting to be able to comment on our parenting or cleanliness or whatnot, then she can stay next door and keep to herself. I suppose I feel so hurt by her comments because she comes across as genuinely wanting to help. When she then turns and makes it clear that she's keeping a tally of how much time she's spent helping us, I feel betrayed. I am always gracious for her help and give gifts. Travis offers sweat equity in payment when they won't accept money. We fix little things all the time without even telling them.

She wants to be a mother to me when I already have three, and none of them are quite so quick to judge. Perhaps because they have been here themselves. I am also hard enough on myself and do not need anyone else to tell me that I could be doing a better job. I know our house is not clean. I know the bathtub needs a good scrubbing. I know the floor needs to be mopped more often. I know the dog hair is ridiculous. I know the living room is cluttered. I know my child has dog hair on his clothes after crawling on the floor. I do sweep, I promise. I even Swiffer. And yes, I brush the dog. She also said that the dog was the cause of most of the cleanliness problem. If she was insinuating that we should get rid of our dog, I might lose it. I would sweep five times a day in return for the love, loyalty, and joy that dog brings to this house. I wouldn't go a day without Dexter in our lives, hair and all. Plus, he helps keep the kitchen floor cleaner than I ever could by happily eating whatever we drop, unless it's onion, banana, or garlic.

In addition, for someone who's never been in my shoes to tell me I could have a cleaner house is infuriating. Apparently we aren't trying hard enough. Believe me, I'd like my house to be cleaner. But between working from home and trying to take care of an 11-month-old, the chances to scour the tub are rare. I barely have time most days to empty and fill the dishwasher and keep up with basic laundry. Forget mopping and things like cleaning behind the fridge and vacuuming behind the couch.

I suppose I could do those things, but it would mean ignoring my baby fussing, or ceasing to do things like take walks with him, go to the library, read books, play on the floor (or now, thank God, in the back yard!), or try to document his speedy growth during this fleeting first year. I doubt I'll look back on this year and think, "Wow, I sure wish I'd taken a toothbrush to the grout more often," or, "My life would feel more complete if I knew there were no crumbs under the stove."

If you know me, you know I'm not the neatest person on the planet. But I like to think I at least take care of the necessities, like dishes, laundry, and the bathroom. Our tub is well overdue for a cleaning, but the toilet and sink are fine. I am simply not a neat freak, but I am also not gross. I've long outgrown the moldy cups of orange juice that populated my bedroom as a teenager, along with the makeup stains on the carpet. I am still a fan of stacks, and am still guilty of taking off my clothes and not sorting them into the appropriate laundry baskets right away. I am still fond of taking off my shoes whenever I sit down, instead of when I come in the door. I still have a couple of water glasses by the bedside table, along with a few books I'm working on.

I desperately want my home to be more organized than it is, which is a work in progress, but I refuse to put "whiter than white" ahead of my duties as a mama and a teacher. I don't know many other mothers who work from home. I imagine (maybe?) the house would be cleaner if we were here less often, but maybe not. I wouldn't have it any other way than the way it is. I would love to have the help and support I need to be a happier, healthier person, but I hate to say, that does not include a spotless, dogless house. If we aren't to your liking, Ms. Landlord, you are welcome to boot us to the curb.

the longest day

2010-03-07T21:06:00.003-07:00

Yesterday was the longest day we've shared with Kincaid so far. Saturday morning, he unexpectedly bit me while nursing. Yes, it hurts. He's bit me before, but I usually anticipate it and can grit my teeth and not jump or yelp. For whatever reason, yesterday, he bit me and I wasn't expecting it. I jumped a bit, and he pulled off and cried. Unlike normal, he wouldn't latch back on....for the rest of the day. Nor would he take a bottle. If you've ever breastfed, you know how excruciating this can be. I felt rejected and defeated. I wondered if our nursing relationship was over, even though I am not near ready to call it quits. I didn't think he was, either, but when he would start to latch on, look up at me, and then begin to scream again, time after time, I wondered if he was.

He cried most of the day. Travis took him for a walk, and he calmed down somewhat. But he would only cease crying for a few minutes before he'd start again. He wouldn't sleep. He would eat solids, but wasn't happy about it. I know he wanted milk, but he wouldn't take it. As one day, in retrospect, it was just one day. But while it happened, I felt lost and worthless. I think this is why we wean children gradually, or allow them to lead the weaning. Sudden weaning is heartbreaking. I know a few women who have had to wean quickly for different reasons, and I cannot imagine how difficult it would be. I do think that having a reason (such as needing to start a medication that is incompatible with breastfeeding) would help, but it would still break my heart.

When I chose to breastfeed, I had no idea this would be such a close relationship. I knew it would be the best nutrition I could offer Kincaid, and since I was physically able and planned to work from home, I knew it would be easiest to breastfeed. I have saved some money, although I sometimes wonder if I've spent as much in granola bars and Luna bars as I would have in formula and bottles! I'm starting to feel ready to wean, as we have about three months left until he is a year old. I imagine this could spill over past a year old, but I don't think I want to try to breastfeed until he is two. I admire women who do, but I do feel as if my body is still on loan as an extension of pregnancy. I'm ready for this phase to end, and for another to begin. I worry that he may be lactose intolerant or have a dairy allergy (not unlike my occasional issues with dairy) but hopefully he can transition to cow's milk at a year old. The transition will be difficult for both of us, and I want to follow his lead, so we'll see how that goes. I just pray that we don't have any more days like yesterday. It tested our patience close to its limits.
Sometimes we wonder if we will ever catch a break. We are doing the best we have with the circumstances we brought upon ourselves. We're even going to church regularly! A woman named Brenda spoke at our church this morning in our pastor's absence. She shared the story of coming to our church after 30 years of not attending. She said she nearly vomited as she imagined coming into the church. But she also said that being willing to share her story and listen to others' stories has been the best thing she's ever done. She said that deciding to be a Christian was the best thing she'd ever done. I'm glad I only lasted about two years away from church. Still, because I didn't feel as if I'd be accepted, because of the judgmental behavior I witnessed as a child, I was terrified. I am still technically an unwed mother, although not a single mom. We are a statistic. We are the people pastors talk about when they mention the "damage" caused by "cohabitation." Even though I already believed this, living through this situation causes me to see every situation case by case. Never again will I consciously judge or look down on anyone's living situation, especially before I know the entire story. I encourage you to do the same. After all, you may be looking down on us. And how could you look down on this guy?

Smoking around kids

2010-03-04T16:22:00.001-07:00

This is going to sound judgmental, because it is.
The baby boy, Dexter, and I just returned from a mental health stroll to the park. I threw the ball for Dexter and let Kincaid swing and be happy. He's been so fussy recovering from his stomach virus.

Anyway, as we approached the park, I saw a woman ( I won't assume she was the mother) smoking while pushing a baby in a stroller. Now, I don't live in a cave, and realize that mothers still smoke. I understand that nicotine is more addictive than I'll ever know, and I know most people who smoke desire to quit. I just have a hard time understanding why anyone would smoke around a baby, knowing what we know today. As a new mama, I know it's difficult, if not impossible, to get a few moments outside for a smoke (if I needed such moments). I don't think the answer is smoking with your baby. It may be difficult for me to be able to do the dishes with Kincaid fussing, so I might put him in a sling or the Ergo to help calm him down and still be able to get things done. I'm not sure this team effort applies to smoking. I don't know this woman's situation, and perhaps today it was all she could do not to throw the stroller, baby and all, across the state, and a cigarette on a walk stood between her and her sanity. But I still find it hard to believe.

We once ended up spending an evening outdoors, downtown, with a couple and their baby. They both smoke. I felt like a prude trying to keep our baby away from the smoke. Yes, my own father smoked until I was around five, but I still think we knew less about the effects of smoking on kids in 1986. I don't want to seem like an overprotective parent, because I don't think I am, but I do want to keep him away from what are known health risks and dangers. If you smoke near your kid, so be it, but don't smoke near mine.

It's been entirely too long since I've posted, but it isn't for lack of happenings. I have plenty of videos on YouTube under "oldberry" to show that we've been up to things. This motherhood business ain't easy. For the past week and a half, we've been dealing with a vomiting baby boy (and boyfriend for a day or so), followed by diarrhea, which we're still dealing with. Handling all these blowouts makes me want to start potty training now. There is something dehumanizing about pooping on yourself, even if it is cleaned up rather quickly. Hopefully once Kincaid can walk and communicate a bit better, he will agree with me, and want to learn how to use a toilet.

I am on an organizing kick this week. I feel as if my nesting instinct is about nine months late, or maybe I just now finally (kind of) have the energy to care that this place is a wreck. It's the result of two households hastily mashed together when half of the couple (me) was on bed rest and said, "just put it wherever, I'll deal with it later." Well, that has resulted in piles and general mayhem. Add all the baby gear and you've got a decent mess. I took a trip to the dollar store to get some cheap plastic baskets, got a lazy susan a-la Mrs. Webster for the kitchen, and some other containers and baskets. I went through the bookshelf and finally picked out some books I don't need to have around. Yes, I might teach middle school English again, but at that time I can get copies of those young adult novels I've held onto. And yes, I might want the Norton Critical Edition of The Heart of Darkness someday, but I can check it out from the library if so. I kept my marked-up Huck Finn, as it's invaluable and falling apart, I kept things that make me look smart if they're on my bookshelf, and I kept books I see myself reading to Kincaid someday. We also have a few fly fishing books....

I organized the books by color, which is weird, I know, but I saw it in Real Simple and thought it looked more put-together. Most of my books are either black, white, yellow, blue, red, or green. Good to know, I suppose.

My job is still going fairly well. I am on my third round of teaching the same course, and it gets much easier each time. After this month, though, this course will no longer be offered, and a new one is rolling out. I'm approved to teach it, but haven't been asked yet. Here's hoping I'll still have work. We desperately need it!

Speaking of, I should get some done while the boy is napping in his newly resurrected swing. He hated it for awhile and decided he liked it again sometime last week, so now it's the only place (besides the Ergo) where he'll nap in the afternoons. Whatever works. Sorry for the terribly boring post; I'm not quite at 100% myself.

books, babies, and identity

2009-11-19T22:58:00.001-07:00

Why is it that when I talk to another mom for the first time, I ask about her child, but not about her? I am only compounding the issue of feeling as if we lose our identities when we have kids. I do it all the time. Other mothers do it, too. It is not conscious. Today at the library "books and babies" time, a new attendee sits next to me. The conversation goes like this.

"Hi, how are you?"

"Oh, fine, and you?"

"Doing fine. How old is your little one?"

"She's 10 months. And yours?"

"6 months."

"Oh, a little guy huh?"

"Yep. What's your daughter's name?"

"Lucy."

"Oh I think that's such a sweet name. Good choice."

"Thank you! What is his name?"

"Kincaid."

"Kincaid? I really like that." (People always repeat his name back to me. I've found they think I am saying his name is Ken Caid. No.)

"Thanks."

Conversation over, besides this thing we do I call talking "through" our babies. I notice that women (I don't see dads doing this) who don't know one another yet tend to talk to/about their babies without actually addressing the other woman. It's something like this:

"Oh Lucy, are you making eyes at Kincaid? He's a cute one! Good choice, sweetie."

"Kincaid! She's checking you out. She's an older woman; go for it!" We look at each other and laugh, as if we're putting on a cute puppet show or something.

This is disturbing not only because we are already controlling our children's dating life, we are also attempting to communicate with one another by putting words in our babies' mouths.

Granted, this is a step up from not having any conversations with other mothers at all, so I am not complaining, just observing.

Travis sometimes asks me if I met anyone at Books and Babies, and I have to realize that while yes, I did speak to other mothers, I did not actually introduce myself to anyone there. I have been at least six or seven times, seeing many of the same mothers there and exchanging advice and stories, yet I don't know any of their names. I know their children's names and ages, but not their names. Am I not privy to some rule that mothers are to stay anonymous? Are we suppose to project all of our being onto our children and become mere props? Of course not, or, I hope not, but it sometimes feels that way.

I feel invisible pushing a stroller or carrying Kincaid in the front pack. It isn't that I'm looking for a date or even real attention from men--even other women, older men, teenagers, kids...no one sees me, they only see the baby. Yes, he's cute, but HI! HELLO! I'M RIGHT HERE! It's easy to feel ignored; it's easy to feel like an invisible force, like wind. You see the effects of my presence, but you can't quite see me.

I imagine that second children pretty much throw this notion away. By that time, women have gotten comfortable with the idea that they are, in fact, mothers, and they are either OK with that identity, or they have found ways to be themselves and a mother at the same time. I am still working through this process. As stressful as my job is sometimes, I think it keeps me from going under. When I edit a paper or give advice about writing, I remember that there was one a Meagan who taught, and while she wasn't an amazing classroom teacher in the management field, she loved her students and did the best she could. This Meagan is still visible sometimes, and still loves to help people learn to write, and is still doing so.

This idea is discussed all over the place, but it has affected me, too. I feel guilty when I admit that I need more in my life than the role of motherhood. The messages are conflicting. "Make time for you!" and "You can't be a good mother if you don't take care of yourself!" conflict with "Be selfless and live as a servant to your family!" "The sacrifice is worth it! Put your children first!"

Maybe some mothers don't feel this way. Perhaps some women feel as if they were born to be mothers, and feel wholly human in this role and this role alone. I thought I might be one of those women, but I am not. I am also not a woman who feels the need to further her career while being a mother. I would rather accept my new role with tentatively open arms, find ways to use my skills and feel whole, and be mostly a mother, but also a teacher, a friend, a sister, etc. I wish I were better at being more than one thing at a time. I don't think any of the ways of mothering are right or wrong. I think every mother does what she needs to do. Our sanity is at the core of it all. I think my sanity would be in better shape if I had a family here--blood or otherwise. A church family will work in a pinch, if I can find one to take in our little "nontraditional" family.

My sleep clock is ticking. Kincaid fell asleep promptly at 7:30 tonight and it is now 11. I may be doomed for little sleep. Last night, for the first time, he went all night without nursing. I slept with him after he woke up for the first time around 1 a.m., but was able to soothe him back to sleep without eating. I think he had just scared himself awake with gas...it happens often. He woke up again around 4, but his pacifier sufficed. Then he got up for good at 6:45 or so when Travis left. I have to admit I was a little sad. I don't mind the middle-of-the-night nursings, as long as there aren't four or five of them. One or two is fine. They are quiet and sweet, and besides the random mischief that our upstairs neighbors tend to get into at 3 a.m., it is serene. (Seriously...they are up all night. I don't know what they are doing, if they work late shifts, or what, but it's killing me.) Either way, I know the night nursings are not over for good, most likely, but this is the beginning of the night weaning, I suppose, and I know I would much rather it happen naturally than have to make an effort to wean, so I will take it. Sleeping through the night again will be nice if it happens soon. I don't remember what that feels like.

where does the mommy club meet?

2009-09-14T19:22:00.004-06:00

I feel as if I've moved far away from my non-mother friends. Not as in, from FL to MT, or from Missoula to West Yellowstone, or from West Yellowstone to Bozeman, far away in the sense that I don't feel I have anything in common with them anymore. It's really depressing. I try to talk to them, but I feel like I have nothing to talk about. They don't care about diapers, drool, and inconsistent bedtimes. They don't care that I feel like a fat tub o' lard, or if they do, they don't understand what it feels like to so quickly lose what your body was in every possible sense--skin, size, boobs, thighs, mind, face, hair...everything is different. They don't understand. And while I feel like I've graduated from these friends, I don't want to leave them. They are all I have. I don't have any mother friends yet, and I worry I will never have friends like I used to have, because they won't know the "pre mother" me. Not here. Yes, I know I need to make some, but it's not easy when you don't know anyone and you're trying to work and stay home with a baby. I barely get dressed and eat normal meals most days. Forget making it to mommy club, wherever it meets. I didn't get the invite.
I feel unreasonably restless and stir crazy. I want to get out of town for just a day, even. Maybe I will. I'm broke, but my tank is full.
Travis doesn't understand. He asks me, "Isn't this what you wanted? To have a normal, steady life?" Well, yes, I do want a normal steady life. I don't feel like working at home with a baby at home in a town where I don't know a soul is a normal, steady life. I feel trapped and terribly restless. I try to get out. I went to the library today. I spoke to an adult for a few minutes regarding my blacklisted library status. I got off free, which was nice. I bought myself a real coffee. We took the scenic walk home. But even when I go places, I feel invisible. I feel that no one would really want to get to know me even if they had the chance. I am not sure who I am anymore. Lately I just cry a lot, get frustrated easily, eat large amounts of trail mix (that I make myself so it's heavy on the M&Ms), work, and try to keep Kincaid happy, dry, fed, and entertained. I realize most mothers feel like this at some point, but most mothers also probably signed up for this life. They had the "before children" time to get to know their spouse (and this means they actually HAVE a spouse), they went on a "babymoon" trip, they took prenatal yoga classes, they bought cute maternity clothes, had "belly shoots," and painted nurseries. They joined pre-mommy clubs that read and discussed all the latest parenting theories. In other words, together with someone who loves them and also wanted a baby, they planned it. They may not have realized how crazy they'd feel, but they at least signed up for it.
Me? I feel like every single aspect of my life and body has changed in the past year. It was right around this week or a little later last year that I found out I was pregnant. Nine months is too long to be pregnant, but not nearly long enough to prepare for this new way of life.
Him? He still wakes up around the same time (give or take a couple of night wakings), goes to work, does basically the same job, and comes home at night. Has his life changed? Absolutely. Has he lost closeness with some of his non-father friends? Sure. But one of his closest friends in town is a dad, and a great one. Most of the men he works with are fathers. Whether he realizes it or not, he gets a lot more support for this life on a daily basis. I hate playing the comparison game, but I keep going back to it. It's lethal, and I always regret it, but it's addictive.
I feel like I have to very purposefully and even aggressively seek support. No one sees me start to lose it when he won't stop crying or won't go down for a nap or poop leaks out of his diaper for the third time in an hour. Even when I do feel like I am screaming for help, it's just not here. I don't have a single family member here. I have all of two friends in this town, and neither one is a mother. They would both think I was certifiably insane if I shared half the thoughts I have.
So much has changed, and it's hard to let go of the old life. I needed to. It wasn't going anywhere healthy. It's just that I would like to have had a spell of normalcy between carefree single life and full-fledged instant family life. I feel that if half the people I knew before saw me pushing a stroller to the library, they would laugh at me.
I feel like because I'm not 100% happy, that I can't be a good enough mother to Kincaid. He's happy and well cared-for, but I am not. At the same time, the thought of doing anything drastically differently sounds even worse than the current situation. I want to be home, even if I have to work from home, too. The thought of having to get up and get both of us ready, take him to day care, and take myself to work every day sounds MUCH worse than the lackadaisical schedule we keep now. Plus, I would be forced to find real clothes that fit instead of getting away with wearing sweatpants most days. Not only would that cost a lot of money I don't have, it would cost precious sanity.
Speaking of mama's new size, that does not help the depression level up here. Yes, I know, I should be patient. I will be normal again. But these months where I am not normal feel eternal. I want to walk and exercise, but my thighs don't just brush one another anymore, they ARE one another. I feel like I have one fat thigh that just kind of sways from side to side as I walk. I want to do some of the things I learned when I was taking Pilates classes, but I don't ever have the motivation to do that alone for any length of time. All the "mommy and me" yoga classes are ridiculously expensive. As are gym memberships. I really, really, really wish Bozeman had a YMCA. It would be perfect. We could get an affordable membership and I could use the day care for a couple of hours to myself. Most YMCAs even have a sauna/hot tub. Oh, the glory a hot tub would be right now. Why doesn't Bozeman have one?? OK, so apparently there is a Gallatin Valley Y, but it's not like the Missoula Y. It is more of an organization than a big facility. Anyway. Bozeman should have one. It would solve many of my problems. Maybe. I just feel like maybe another new-to-Bozeman mother around my age with an infant would walk in the door with me, and we'd knock our car seats into one another, apologize, realize we are both wearing shirts that make our nursing pads obvious, and smile. We'd be instant friends. It could happen, but only if Bozeman had a YMCA.
I just don't get why I feel so overwhelmed and testy all the time. I snap for no reason and feel like I have permanent PMS worse than I've ever had. I'm starting to think that some mothers actually like working because it gives them a break every day. I think I'd only like working if it paid me a lot of money, if Kincaid could be in the same building or on the same campus as me, and if I only had to work, say 10-3 with an hour lunch break. Then, maybe, I would want to work every day. Obviously, that is not a choice, or I would take it. I couldn't find a job out here or anywhere but Alaska that would pay enough to merit child care. There aren't any teaching jobs to be had in Bozeman, and if there were, I wouldn't want one right now. All in all, I love being home with my little guy. I just wish I felt like I was doing a better job.
I want out, but I really don't. I just want a temporary out. I just need (yes, it's a need, trust me) maybe three days in FL near my sister, who at least mostly understands what I'm going through. I want some comfort food in the form of ChickfilA and Sonny's. I want to be around people who care about college football, even if it's the stinky Gators. I want to finally see my friend Haley's baby. For most people, this would be a fairly easy thing to come by. Since I found myself thinking the thrift store was getting expensive the other day, I obviously can't afford a plane ticket for myself and Kincaid. I'm not sure how he'd do on a plane. I don't even care if he screamed the whole way. At least I'd get there. Maybe his screaming would make the pilot fly faster. I can dream, can't I?
At least we get to drive to Boise in a couple of weeks. I thrive on road trips. I may not thrive on a road trip with an infant, but we will at least get a change of scenery, and Kincaid will get some grandparent lovin'.

Why it took me two hours to grade one paper

2009-09-07T14:54:00.003-06:00

Yep, it just took me two hours to grade one assignment. This is not because the assignment is terribly complicated, but because of the everyday interruptions I face as a mama.

1 p.m.
Kincaid is napping. Sat down to start grading. Found out I needed to read several documents to fully understand the assignment. Travis asks what I want for dinner and if tacos are OK. Yes, tacos are fine.
I go back to reading the documents and familiarizing myself with the assignment.
I open Student A's assignment and begin to read it. I fill in the first row in the rubric.
Kincaid wakes up after a short catnap. He starts talking to me, so I talk back. I pick him up and notice he needs a new diaper. Travis changes his diaper. Kincaid starts to scream. Travis tries to calm him down. I'm attempting to not let it look like this distracts me. Kincaid continues to be unhappy. I take Kincaid to the back bedroom to nurse him where it's quiet. He eats. He's happy. He spits up on his clothes. I change his clothes (I put on a football outfit since FSU plays Miami today...closest thing I've got, which reminds me, why don't we have an FSU shirt for him? I should order one pronto, but not right now.)
I bring Kincaid back to the living room to hang out for awhile and sit down and start to read the assignment again.
Dad plays with him and tries to take him out to the hammock to sit with him. Kincaid is not OK with this. Continues to fuss a bit. Dad brings him back inside to hang out in here. Dad shows me a book he's reading and asks if he's the same Christian singer guy we were watching on YouTube the other day (I was showing him the beauty that was Michael W. Smith's vest on the Secret Ambition video). I said no, he wasn't, and we then look up this Christian singer/author and discover his videos. They are cheesy and dumb. I say I need to get back to work.
Kincaid is making the "my diaper needs changing" noise. I take him to change his diaper and he is still quite unhappy with things. He's tired. It's about 2 p.m.
Dad is trying to comfort him so I can work, and says, "Maybe you need one of those nice naps Mom puts you down for."
I take the hint, put down the computer, and take Kincaid to lay him down for a nap. I lay next to him until he calms down and falls asleep. Then I notice that it's getting cooler and I should get out his 3-6 mo fall stuff. I pull the box out of the closet and sort this stuff from the 9 mo stuff.
He's asleep still, so it's safe to get back to work. I sit down and start to read the assignment again. I'm hungry. I get up to get a couple of cookies and some water. I sit down again and finish the first part of the assignment.
I sneeze a big sneeze, which necessitates a change of clothes (if you've had a baby, you understand) so I go to the bedroom to change clothes.
I sit down again to grade the assignment. I get done with the second part, and then realize my feet are freezing. I get up to get some socks. I sit back down. I get done with the third and final part. Because I've been so scattered the whole time, I second-guess myself and re-read it all to make sure I've graded it correctly.

This is my life. This is why it's not easy to focus at home on my work, even when Travis is wonderful and tries to help. I attempted to get started at 1 p.m. and it is now 3:15 and I have only graded TWO of 40 assignments. I should get to work before Kincaid wakes up again. But before that happens, I will probably get hungry again, need to use the restroom, someone will come to the door, the dog will need to go outside, I will get a headache, I will remember that I need to pay a bill or call someone or whatnot...

Do I have some strain of ADD, or is this just life with a baby? I am normally fine with focusing when I can. Oh well. Back to grading. But first, I need a sandwich!

things are blurry

2009-08-29T18:47:00.003-06:00

Still a bit too small for the jump-up:)

So, this job. I love it and I hate it. I am still terrified that I won't get hired on anyway and this whole ordeal won't end up being worth it. Then I'll have to find some other job somewhere and have to put Kincaid in day care...and very quickly this mindset gets very ugly and I start to cry.

I can't focus on ANYTHING. It makes me want to get a really easy job that doesn't require much thinking. As if such a thing exists. Even when I waited tables I would get mentally exhausted from remembering everything and learning new menus, specials, wines and beers.

Does every working mother suffer from this inability to think clearly? An inability to stay organized? I'm not the most organized person on the planet anyway, but when I'm trying to hurry to get work done when my little guy is at home and I just want to be home with him, I forget things left and right. I leave the house so I can focus, and then I can't focus because I'm not home. I can't win. And Travis is constantly asking, "Are you done?" No! I'm not. I'm never done. It's endless. Why? Because I can't ever just sit down and get my work done. I'm interrupted by crying, fussing, hunger, dirty diapers, need for entertainment, guilt that the dishes aren't done, letting the dog in, letting the dog out, needing to go to the bathroom mySELF, feeling guilty that I'm not spending more time with Kincaid, feeling guilty that I'm not thinking about dinner, and on and on it goes. We NEED for me to have this job to make ends sort of meet. But I am not doing so well. I can't focus and I can't do as well as I want to because I've got this disgusting guilt trip disease. I don't know where it came from and I don't know why I can't get rid of it. Why my best isn't good enough is beyond me. I just want to be loved and appreciated, and somehow I think I will be loved and appreciated more the more I can do. I also think I'll be loved and appreciated less if I don't get to the dishes, the laundry, dinner, vacuuming, etc. I want to do those things. But 5:30 rolls around every day and I've barely scratched the surface of the grading I have to do. And then I forget one tiny thing and I get a big red note on my feedback that points it out. I think that's the issue. I can't ever do anything right, and I feel like what I DO accomplish is overlooked for what I DON'T. I'm trying, but it doesn't seem to count for anything.
Plus, this is all in my head and none of this lack of appreciation actually exists. But, if it's in my head then it does exist somewhere, right?

Plus, a lady came in with her 8-week-old little girl just now (I'm at a coffee shop), and she's definitely in her old jeans. I want to take the cheesecake in the display here and go shove it straight into her hips.

Why do I have all this rage? Where has it come from? Anne Lamott speaks of it too, and I don't know why it has all decided to surface now. Shouldn't all my gentle, motherly features surface? Aren't I supposed to be all doting and lovely and soft and sweet, like a mother? Why do I feel so angry and frustrated and guilty and beat down?

Speaking of Anne Lamott, I am almost done with her book, and I feel that I might fall apart when it's over. It's been my therapy for the last week or so. I've loved her total honesty and can relate to every last word in that book. I need to start looking for other first-year mother memoirs. I don't want "how to" books, I want, "this happened" books. I want, "this happened, and it was really shitty and awful, and I hated myself, but now I'm better, and even though I still sometimes want to throw big, heavy things across the room, I'm mostly OK."

Kincaid's growth spurt seems to be over. We haven't gotten another 8-hour night yet, but we are getting our 4 and 5-hour spurts again. I really love sleeping in the bed with him after his first middle of the night feeding. He's so sweet and happy when he's that sleepy, and I forget all the stress and worry and guilt for a moment when I wake up and find him smiling at me.

I should be working right now. My battery is about to die at this oddball coffee shop where there are no outlets. This weird, distracting man next to me took the only one. It's on the ceiling. He is terribly distracting. I don't know what he's doing, but he speaks outloud to whatever he is reading on the screen. He also just groaned and then went up to the counter and said, "I don't want to be rude, but this music is driving up a wall, I mean, I was just sitting there thinking, "what is driving me so crazy and I realized it's these stupid OLDIES you're playing, and I thought I would just ask if you could change it." Good grief. They changed it. I think he referred to it as "contemporary jazz." I'm referring to it as muzak.

At least I have a pork roast waiting for me at home. And tomorrow, I think we might make it to try out a church. I'm scared to try a new church in this state. We're not married, and I'm terrified about being judged. We're not even engaged, for pete's sake. People are going to think things. Yes, I know I shouldn't let it bother me, but you try being us and not letting it bother you. At the dentist the other day, despite the absence of a ring, he referred to Travis as my husband. I can't bear to correct people, because I'll get the "oohh..." response.

I just pray that the sermon is about something uplifting, and about anything, ANYTHING, but money.

I want to be happy, and generally, I am. I can count my blessings easily. I'm sorry I"m not more upbeat. Trust me, I feel guilty about that, too! I just need to vent sometimes, and since writing is an outlet for me, I feel a little better when I write things down. Plus, I want to remember how I felt during these days, because it can only get better.

growth spurt

2009-08-25T13:43:00.004-06:00

I'm pretty tired today. Kincaid is in a growth spurt, meaning he's been eating every two hours around the clock. Travis is not working this week because his shoulder is hurt and they won't let him work. It's killing him, and it's going to be even tougher than usual financially, but Lord, am I glad I could get up at 6:30 today, feed Kincaid, and hand him to Dad so I could get a little sleep.

My dad and stepmom were here this weekend. It was a great visit, but I feel guilty that I was so stressed out, as I usually am these days. I wanted to spend about three times as much time with them as I got to, but I'm grateful for the time I did get. For once, it was because I was busy working.

Speaking of working, I had a minor breakdown today. I'm glad all I had in my hand to throw at the computer screen was a napkin, because I am pretty sure I would have thrown anything at it, I was so frustrated. I screamed, and not into a pillow. This mentor of mine has got to go. She has me as "not on track" to pass my mentorship. Why? Because I don't have 100% responsiveness. Except I do...she just didn't listen when I told her I responded to the student in a different location. I made a mistake, and that mistake was not that I didn't respond quickly enough. I feel like she's out to fail me, not that she's there to help me like a mentor should. I desperately need this job. I like the job. I dislike my "mentor." I finally did email the greater powers that be about my concerns. She is demeaning when I ask questions. This blog is public, though, so I will stop there. I'm just terrified and frustrated. I feel as if I'm doing my best. I'm not used to failing. I usually do extremely well when i try hard. I never do poorly when I do my best. My students thank me and tell me they appreciate what I'm doing for them. Why shouldn't that count for anything? It's very upsetting to me, especially when I'm already hanging by a thread. I'm living with a man I'm just starting a relationship with. We're bonded by a shared complete and total adoration for our baby, but sometimes that isn't enough. I cry too much. I just had a hormone-soaked piece of plastic shoved inside me yesterday, so I'm in pain and a little off-kilter once again, but I won't have to worry about getting pregnant for the next five years. I am about to be sleep deprived again for a few days due to the growth spurt. I am fat. I need friends. I need a church. I need a book club. I need SOMETHING, and it all seems impossibly out of reach. I realize it isn't, that soon I will have these things...but today, when I need to sob and have someone around who will just LET me sob, listen to me say self-deprecating things that make no sense, tell me I'm nuts and make me laugh...it seems impossible.

If I had anything close to enough money, I'd jump on a plane to go see my sister, because she would at least temporarily make me feel normal because she is in close to the same place I am. Yes, she has a mother-in-law in town, a church, and friends, but she at least sympathizes and doesn't think I'm nuts. I have a picture of all three of us over this computer desk, and I remember the day. It was her bridal shower, and it was before we were really sisters, before we shared the misery of pregnancy and the joy/sorrow/misery/frustration/elation of becoming mothers. I resented her that day and my smile is fake. Back then, I never thought I'd miss her like I do now.
I'm reading "Operating Instructions" by Anne Lamott, and it's like therapy for me. She is helping me feel normal for the crazy thoughts I've had lately. If you are a mother and have not read this book, get it. I paid something like .10 plus shipping on Amazon. It's worth much more. I've been devouring it since it came in the mail yesterday. It's made me laugh and cry, and, as the jacket says, it's exactly the sort of book you should read if you hate books that make you laugh and cry.

I really wish there was a way for men to understand the toll all of this motherhood/working/living in a new place crap takes on your body and mind. I just want Travis to understand for five minutes, and I know it's impossible. He is out picking huckleberries with friends. I didn't go because I am sleep-deprived and, when he left, was sobbing because I'm failing at my job, apparently. I don't blame him for wanting to get out. I just don't think he understands how strong my need is to both be with Kincaid AND get out. I try to get some "me" time, but it always ends up being just grocery shopping or attempting to find clothes that fit me. The clothes-shopping is the worst idea, but I can't seem to learn. I continue to think that something will not make me look like a cow, but I'm wrong. I try on clothes with impossibly high numbers for sizes, and they are too small. I tried to put on a pair of Travis' shorts the other day-size XL, and couldn't get them over my thighs. At least his T-shirts are still too big on me. I should just go sit and read and drink some sort of frilly drink for just an hour somewhere outdoors, but I can't justify the time when I have work, laundry, dishes, baby, and I have so little clothing that fits. Winter is coming,and I have one pair of jeans. That one pair is currently soaked in baby pee, waiting in a ridiculously tall pile of laundry to be washed. Travis did laundry all day yesterday, bless his heart, and somehow the pile is taller than when he started.
I don't intend to complain that Travis is not doing anything...he does more than I'd ever expect and then some. He's an amazing father. I just wish he understood how I felt, and knew how to just listen. I imagine most women feel that way about men at some point.
I should also mention my fear about losing my health insurance. I lose it on Sept. 1. I can't afford COBRA (who can!?), I don't qualify for the subsidy, my job does not offer any such benefits to adjuncts (most schools don't), and while catastrophic coverage is somewhat affordable ($133/mo), it is just that-catastrophic. If I need medicine or to go to the doctor, I will have to pay full price. Last time Ihad to do that, it was over $100 for just a simple office visit. Hopefully if I get sick, there will be generic medications I can take. Obama, do something. I don't care what, but just make basic healthcare affordable, please. Congress, stop fighting and compromise. Please. There are people in much worse situations than I am who need a way to afford proper care. We need wellness care. We need preventative care. I don't have any answers...I vote for you so you can figure out the answers. Just hurry, please!

I should stop complaining and get some work done. I have about 30-odd papers to grade, participation to, well, participate in, and 40 weekly feedbacks to complete. I want to get out of the house today and do something completely useless, but I won't, because i will feel too guilty. I still have about 50 thank-you cards to write from baby gifts hanging over my head. I still haven't sent out baby announcements, for pete's sake. First, I should take a shower. It's 2 p.m. and Kincaid is sleeping. Having clean hair and washing the tear residue off my face will help me feel better. I promise I'm not trying to have a pity party, I'm just trying to get my thoughts down so that someday I can remember what all this was like. I hope that I can look back on all this and realize it made us stronger, that it helped me grow. I'm sure it will, like every other difficulty I've been through. Maybe God just wants to lump all the hard times into my before-30 years, so that after that, things will be happy, healthy, and prosperous. I can only hope.

sleep, fat, and clothing

2009-08-08T16:35:00.002-06:00

So, per Andrea's encouragement, I am starting to level out, I think. I still have some random cry-fests and sour moods that blindside me in the middle of a perfectly great day, but if I can identify them as hormone-induced, it's a little bit easier to move past them. Sometimes. Ok, it's not that easy, but at least Travis is catching on that I'm not suffering from multiple personality disorder...I think. Kincaid will be 3 months old next Thursday, so hopefully I will continue to improve.

Kincaid slept at least 4 hours in a row every night last week. Hallelujah. I know that doesn't sound like much, but when you've been suffering through night after night of no more than 2.5 hrs of sleep in a row for a few months, you feel like a human being again when you get four hours in a row! His latest "schedule"/routine at night has gone like this: He gets super cranky at around 8 p.m. I try to get him into a dark quiet place and help him get some sleep. I also try to top him off in hopes of longer sleep. He will usually sleep for a couple hours...till around 10:30 or so, then wake up, hungry, and eat. Then if we're lucky he'll sleep 4-5 hours, wake up, eat, fall back asleep, and usually sleep for 3 more. Sometimes he randomly wakes up screaming an hour after I've fed him. After that 2-3 a.m. wakeup and feed, I usually just put him in the guest bed and sleep next to him. I get more sleep, and he sleeps better.
I know a lot of people love that Babywise book, but I hate it. I really think, despite what I thought before I had a kid, that I'm more of an attachment theory parent than I would like to admit. I enjoy sleeping next to him, he naps next to me, I carry him in the front carrier a lot and prefer it to the stroller (usually), and I have absolutely no desire to try to put him on a steadfast schedule. He already has a routine, more or less, that we've fallen into naturally. He eats, I let him chill for a bit so he doens't throw it up, I change a diaper, I play with him or otherwise let him be awake for awhile, watch for when he's tired, and then help him fall asleep. I think if he were a difficult baby, we'd need more structure and routine, but he's only 3 months old, so he's either just going to be fairly mellow, or this is the honeymoon period still.
I just wish all those baby sleep theorists out there would stop bad-mouthing each other. I can't read a page of BabyWise before they bash the Sears' parenting books, and vice versa. I just figure he's only gonig to be this little for so long, and I want to spend as much time with him as I can. Once he sleeps more like 6-7 hrs a night or longer, I won't need to sleep with him. But right now, I'm trying to survive, and it works. Besides, why wouldn't I want to do that when, instead of waking up and screaming for me, he wakes up and smiles and coos?
While trying to take care of this little guy, who is napping next to me right now, I am attempting to facilitate courses online. I enjoy it, for the most part. Right now I am still somewhat in training, teaching on my own, but under the advisement of a "mentor," who does not seem to enjoy her job so much. She doesn't answer all my questions and does not seem to want to engage in any sort of conversation with me about how to best go about this job. She gives very short, terse answers. My sister likened her to a DMV worker who doesn't listen to what you're asking and has about five canned responses. Frustrating, to say the least!
Then there are my students. I have about 40 split between two sections, and most of them are great. I admire all of them, as I imagine it's really hard to go back to school after you've raised/had kids, worked for years, etc. Most of them are doing it just to better themselves, some are doing it to "make their kids proud of them," others are required to gain a degree to keep their jobs. I feel inadequate to be teaching them, although now as we've gotten started, I can see that I am certainly qualified to teach this course. It's the first course in an AA program. It seems like most students at this school get their AA, then their BA/BS, then a Masters, if they desire. So, I'm teaching adult students who have never been to school before, and have never taken coursework online. It's confusing to most of them, to say the least. I do not think the classroom is set up to be confusing, but I do udnerstand how, if you're not accustomed to using a computer or the internet, you might be confused. I have one student who repeatedly posts her assignments in the wrong places, despite intricate directions on how to do so properly.
I've had a few "I'm stuck!!" phone calls, and I'm sure they think I sound like I'm 12.
I have one student who doesn't know how to copy and paste, so who knows what other basic computer skills she's lacking.
Sometimes it is difficult to do almost all of our correspondence in writing. I can type very fast, so I'm not really struggling, but I do constantly wonder if my tone comes across as I hope it does.
I feel like one of my sections is going very well. The students engage one another in discussion (which, having been a part of both types, I strongly prefer online discussion to verbal in-class discussion), they talk in the "chat room," they're respectful, and most of them are completing assignments correctly and on time. They say they are learning adn enjoy the class. I can't feel too good about that since I don't write the syllabus, but still, I'm glad they feel as if they're learning. It is a basic communications course, and I do think the materials and assignments are all well-designed. I hope that once I've taught for a bit, maybe I can teach something a little more English-related instead of a communications course.
It's sad to me that many of them don't read (or only read Danielle Steele), and that their writing skills are so deteriorated. I suppose, though, that if you've operated a forklift for 20 years, you might not need to write very often.
I lose my group health insurance on Sept 1, and I'm terrified. I haven't been without insurance in a LONG time, and then, it was only for a couple of months between work and school. I can't join on to Travis' until we're married, and although catastrophic insurance is not that bad ($133/mo) it is a lot when I'm trying to pay off baby medical bills, old medical bills on credit cards, student loans, and generally trying to eat and clothe myself.
Speaking of clothes...trying to clothe this new, much chubbier version of myself is certainly the cause of many an emotional breakdown lately. I don't know why I even TRY to find clothes anywhere right now. I have to wear something, but why CAN'T I wear sweats all the time? Oh, because that also makes me feel disgusting. Skirts are friendlier than pants, and pants are friendlier than shorts, and thankfully I live in a cool climate, so pants are the clothing du jour. Except, I only have one pair of jeans. And I'm broke, as usual (see above). In about a month or so, skirts will no longer be weather-appropriate, unless they're paired with tights. I am horrified about finding pants that will fit me now.
I see women with babies about Kincaid's age, and many of them are obviously in their old clothes. How in the HELL!? I am breastfeeding like a maniac, and I am still pretty gigantic. My belly is, anyway. I had a C-section, so they advised me to not do ab workouts for awhile, and I'm drawing near to the end of that advised period, but still. I really would like to even fit into my old T-shirts, for pete's sake. My boobs are too big to wear my T-shirt, and my thighs are too big to wear my old pajamas. Forget the jeans, I just want to fit into my old flannel pants. But alas, I cannot.
I realize my body is supposed to be different, but I thought it might start to shrink a little by now. My arms are improving because Kincaid is getting heavier, but my thighs and belly? Not so much. My biggest problem is affording new clothing. I would not be so upset about this new me if I had the money to buy clothes that made me not hate my reflection so much. No one tells you about that added expense.
Today at Target I saw a woman with a TINY baby...clearly only a few weeks old. She was also teensy. I snuck a few close glances and then decided that the baby has got to be adopted. The poor baby's mother is somewhere, without a baby beside her as an excuse, trying to lose weight AND recover from what must be the most difficult thing a mother could ever do. I do find I feel especially fat and gross when I don't have the baby with me. When he's with me, people look at him, not at me. I don't think people really look at me much anyway, but that isn't the point. I want to feel like I look at least DECENT, much less thin. Really, if I could wear a 10, I'd feel better. We can get back into the 6's, the 4's or maybe, if I'm lucky, those size 2 jeans that I LOVE someday, but let's just find a happy medium for now.
Time for a shower and the fun of finding something to wear to go into public. I guess I should be grateful that I work from home for now, and so I do not really need a lot of stuff to wear to work. I really can (and do!) work in my sweatpants most of the time. Sometimes I get dressed just so I don't feel like such a lump!
The Sweet Pea Festival is going on in Bozeman right now, and it's a fun deal. I love that we live close enough to walk. Art festivals are about my pace. Put the kiddo in the stroller, pack up the diaper bag, and stroll over to hear some music, watch some dancing, and wish I had money to buy the beautiful paintings. In the meantime, I'll just buy a tasty crepe or a corndog:).

who am I again?

2009-07-05T00:02:00.005-06:00

People can try to tell you how hard it is, and you can think you have a good idea, but you really don't until you live it. I read the baby books and heeded the warnings of other mothers that it's hard, but I had no idea. I don't think any new mother does. I feel like my (our) situation is compounded because we haven't even known each other for a full year. All Travis has known is the pregnant or postpartum Meagan, and I know quite well that neither of those people are my favorite versions of myself! Both of those Meagans are hormonal and exhausted, unhappy with her appearance, and therefore pretty snappy and not all that fun to be around. I feel for him, really. I know he must be hoping I'll snap out of this any day now. I certainly hope I do. But in the meantime, I'm overwhelmed. I love my little buddy more than life itself, and want to do all I can to make him happy and comfortable. I am still a person, though, and feel as if I have no outlet lately for my frustration. He has fishing, his garden, friends in town, work, photography...I have few friends here and the ones I have are not mothers, so they don't understand. I don't have a church, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. I have no family, no one really to turn to (in person) to vent to. Sometimes the phone just doesn't cut it. He's 7 weeks old. Things are supposed to be getting better, right? And they are. He is sleeping somewhat longer periods most of the time, he eats more efficiently now, and I'm learning his quirks and temperament. We get smiles now. I want to say I'm doing fine, and I am. I could be doing much worse. I know what depressed feels like and I'm nowhere close to that. I am guessing I'm like any other woman who can't handle her hormones causing her to go from happy to pissed to horny to terrified to full-out-bawling in a matter of a few hours (minutes?)! It is more than frustrating. I don't feel like myself and haven't in a LONG time. I would like to meet myself again, really. It isn't even really that I feel my identity is lost in motherhood...I just feel as if I have so little control over my emotions sometimes that I don't recognize my reactions to things. Poor Travis doesn't know that I'm not always like this, and is justifiably skeptical when I say "this is not like me, I'm sorry." I don't know what to do. I'm sure getting a shot of progesterone last week doesn't help, but I couldn't do much else with my insurance changing over twice this summer. I'm stressing about starting a new job in a couple of weeks, wondering how I'll have the time and energy for it with a baby around who seems to require most of my waking hours. But I have to work. And, for the record, I don't "have" to work so that we can continue to afford gym memberships and our Hummer lease. I have to work so we can pay the bills. If I didn't have to, I definitely would rather go volunteer in my friend's kindergarten classroom, fix lavish meals for Travis every night, go to mommy/baby yoga classes, take coffee to Travis at break every morning, etc. But alas, for now, I must work a bit. I am grateful to have the job and really hope it works out. Maybe that will make me so busy I won't realize I'm overwhelmed or have the energy to care. That would be real healthy, but at least I wouldn't be crying so much!
I really do wish they'd spend more time in the birthing classes talking about the postpartum time period, and how it's difficult for ALL women, not just the small percentage that suffers from the disease of postpartum depression. Men need to know that the hormone roller-coaster is not even close to over. They need to know we feel fat and disgusting. They need to know that although (most of us) love breastfeeding, it's overwhelming to be someone else's food supply, and it doesn't always come easy. They need to know that even when we cry or feel overwhelmed that it isn't because we don't love being mothers, it's because...well...I guess men need to know that we don't always have a reason for feeling the way we do. Just let us be and comfort us; we'll be OK.
We both need time to get to know one another, and we really haven't ever had that chance. For the majority of my pregnancy, I spent weekends with him because I was still working down in West Yellowstone, and most of those weekends were spent at a house with his roommate who isn't exactly Mr. Friendly towards me. We got a few weekends of time alone in our new place, and they were glorious. Once I moved up here, it was because I was on bed rest and was pretty exhausted most of the time. I was here for about three weeks before I went into labor. How easy would it be for you to start parenting with someone you'd only lived with for three weeks and had only known for ten months? It's all worth it for little Kincaid, but it is not easy. And when will we have time? We are strangers passing in the night at this point. We try to spend time together on the weekends, but we end up arguing and I end up in tears, and it's all a wash because I feel like a jerk for ruining everything, even if it's really no one's fault. We need a serious retreat, and who knows how or when we'll get such a thing. That requires money, of which we have none.
I'm not trying to throw a pity party, I promise. I just need some sort of outlet, and writing is all I have for now, and for that I have little time. All any of us want is to be loved, and it's hard to give or receive love when you're so exhausted. Things are pretty tense around here, and it's not how I want them to be. I need the support system I'm used to having, but such a thing takes time to build. I have a small one in Missoula and another in West Yellowstone, but next to nothing here in Bozeman. I like this town, but I wish I had the energy and knew where to go to meet people. I need like-minded women...women who like to read (or did before they had kids), women who believe in God but can't stand most Christian music or Fox news, women who are intelligent but want to be "just" mothers and do all they can to stay home and avoid child care...who don't care about climbing the corporate ladder.
I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping even though I'm completely worn out. I can't often go back to sleep once I've gotten up to feed Kincaid in the middle of the night. But I will go try again tonight, even though my mind is racing and I'm worried and overwhelmed. I will try to end on a happier note, though:

on the night you were born

2009-05-28T11:15:00.006-06:00

Before I forget the gory details of May 14, 2009, I should write them down. I keep looking for an opportunity to take the time to do so, but it's been hard to...anyone who's had a baby understands, I'm sure! For example, I will have to take a break already because the little guy is saying "I'm HUNGRY". Thankfully so far he's not much of a screamer, and will make cute noises and suck on his fists before he gets too fussy. Usually I can catch him before he gets upset.
Funny, I saved this draft on May 28 and haven't been able to get back to it until today, June 17. Anyway, Kincaid is still doing pretty well...he has the occasional bout of painful gas and it kills me to see him in pain, but thankfully the gas drops and holding him tummy-down work pretty well at making it tolerable.
So, the labor and delivery story. For the faint of heart I will try to keep it clean:)
On the night of May 13, we finally finished his nursery and I found the energy to clean up our bedroom since that is where we planned to have him sleep right off. Travis had been wanting to make a video to show the family the house, messy or not, and to thank them for their furniture contributions. Here's the video:

We made it at around 11 p.m. and I never really fully went to bed after that. I started having regular contractions around 1 a.m. I'd had lots of Braxton-Hicks contractions, but I knew that these were the real thing. Honestly, I wouldn't describe them as painful, really. Especially if I could do the "balloon" breathing I learned from Hypnobirthing...it made them completely tolerable and hardly painful as long as I was getting plenty of oxygen in those muscles. At first, they were about an hour-45 min apart, so I went back to sleep in between. Around 3 a.m. though, I gave up on sleeping and came out to the living room to ride them out. I had already thrown up my supper and was throwing up the nothing that was left in my stomach at this point. Lovely. I knew that throwing up during labor was normal but I still HATE it, especially when it's uncontrollable like this was. Gross.
When Travis got up to go work around 6, they were about 20 minutes apart, so I called the hospital and got the answer I expected: wait till they're about 5 minutes apart to come in. We live less than a mile from the hospital, so I told Travis to go on to work and I'd call him when I was getting close to go time. Yes, I realize now this is completely stupid, but at the time, I had no idea how fast I would progress to 5 minutes apart, and I knew Travis had an important day at work. Plus, I was feeling like I wanted to be alone and not answer questions like, "Does it hurt? Is that another one coming? What do you need me to do?" Don't get me wrong. Travis was an incredibly perfect partner throughout the whole ordeal, but if you've been through labor, you may understand wanting a little silence and solitude at some point. I wouldn't do it again, though...I would just ask him to sit with me and not ask questions:)
So, about 40 minutes later, after I sat in the warm bathtub for a few minutes, I called Travis and asked him to come back home. He works only 6 blocks from home, and he was back in about 5 minutes. I'm about the most last-minute person in the world, so despite hearing 800 times during my pregnancy to pack my hospital bag, I had yet to do so. Travis had started one, but I couldn't see how I could pack a bag when all the clothing and such I wanted to bring with me was clothing I needed to be wearing, so I just stayed on top of the laundry. Travis took directives and packed a bag while I, well, labored.
We got to the hospital around 8:30/9 a.m.. I forgot to call, but thankfully they weren't incredibly busy and I went right into a labor room. I had been in this room before for observation when my blood pressure was high. They just renovated the L&D wing of our hospital, so the labor rooms were big and felt comfortable. I liked that I could keep the lights low. There was a jacuzzi tub in the room, but I never used it.
I was 4 cm dilated when I got to the hospital, so I saw that as good news. My doctor was not on call, but another one was, Tyler Bradford, and I'd seen him the first time I went in to have an NST (non-stress test...basically, they put you on the fetal monitor and watch the heartrate to make sure he was handling my blood pressure OK) so I was familiar with him and also knew he had a good reputation. If another doctor had been on call, I might have requested my own since I like her so much, but I felt comfortable with Dr. Bradford.
They started an IV in case I needed it, but didn't put anything in it yet. My hopes were that I could make it through without medication, but was also aware that this was my first baby and I didn't know what to expect. After my sister Caroline ended up with an epidural because of back labor, and she had no ill effects (I usually don't respond well to anesthesia) I was more open to the idea but still wanted to try to be med-free for the sake of Kincaid and my own reaction to the meds.
Because of my high BP, I needed to be on the monitors constantly, and I was OK with that. They were wireless, so I wasn't confined to the bed. The high BP had put me on bed rest for the 3-4 week or so preceding labor, so I was used to not doing much. I didn't feel like walking around anyway, so it was fine that I wasn't expected to walk around to move labor along. I had some apple juice and water at some point, and threw all that up, too, so I didn't really try to take in anything else. Before experiencing labor, I was nervous about the "no eating in labor" rule the hospital seems to enforce, because I'm hypoglycemic, so withholding food from me is a BAD idea. Besides making me cranky, it's dangerous. However, I wanted nothing to do with food and somehow never felt hungry.
I don't know what time it was, or how dilated I was, but at some point around mid-labor I started to feel the back labor. Those of you who have been through this know that it is some seriously awful unrelenting pain that I can't compare anything to. I tried everything...the doula ball, different positions, having Travis push on my back and hips...nothing relieved it even a little. It was close to unbearable. The contractions in my belly were sort of painful when I didn't breathe well enough, but even when I didn't, they were definitely tolerable and I could have made it to the end if I didn't have back labor. (Back labor, by the way, is when the baby's head is face up and the back of his head, his shoulders, and back, are pressed against your spine and pelvis and believe me, it HURTS. Also, unlike contractions, it does not stop and merely gets worse when you're contracting)
So, I ended up requesting an epidural. Dr. Bradford examined me again and told me I was at 9 cm...so it was somewhat likely that an anesthesiologist wouldn't give me one because I was so far along. But there was no way I could see myself pushing with this kind of pain. I couldn't relax as much as I tried, and I was in tears from the pain. I didn't see the point of continuing on this way and when I tried to engage the muscles I'd need to use to push, it was nearly impossible. So thankfully, the anesthesiologist did let me have one. Because I was so far along, he gave me a spinal block first, which acted very quickly and relieved the pain almost instantly. I could finally start to think and relax a little. I was scared that the numbness down there would prevent me from being able to push effectively, but I didn't find that to be the case. I had done a pretty good job of exercising those muscles and stretching well beforehand, so I didn't have any trouble at all. I hated the possibility that the medication could pass to Kincaid, but I'm not kidding when I say it was unbearable. Back labor is the worst. Once I got the epidural, my nurse basically told me she thought I was nuts for waiting that long, and Dr. Bradford told me I must have a higher pain tolerance than most if I made it to 9 cm. Either way.
So, now that I could think a little straighter, I started to push. I pushed for an hour, and although I'm sure I could have felt more without the epidural, I could feel enough to know what was going on down there. After that hour, Dr. Bradford examined again to check Kincaid's progress, and that's when things started to move very quickly. He was feeling around up in there and got a funny look on his face. He obviously felt something a little odd. He looked at the nurse and said, "I know what we've got here, it's a cord. Page for a C-section...fast." Kincaid's umbilical cord was prolapsed, meaning that it was coming out ahead of him, and his head was cutting off his own circulation whenever I pushed or contracted. So, odds are, his circulation had been cut off for awhile. When he told me the cord was prolapsed, I was glad I knew what it was from my EMT training. I remembered learning that if a cord was prolapsed, someone would have to physically hold the head off the cord so that circulation could continue until the baby could be born via c-section. I remember learning that that would be the ONLY time it would be appropriate or necessary for an EMT to have his/her hands in that area of a woman during childbirth...it would be necessary to save the child's life.
In a matter of seconds, my bed was unlocked and I was wheeling towards the operating room. A small, spunky female doctor jumped on the foot of my bed and began to hold Kincaid's head off the cord. He was close to crowning, but they ended up pushing him back up the birth canal because a vaginal birth would have likely killed him. As we wheeled the short distance down the hall, they did their best to explain to me what was going on and comfort me. I was pretty calm, likely because it happened too fast for me to panic, and I knew that panicking would only make things worse.
It was the middle of shift change, so there were doctors galore who responded to the page to come help. I know there were at least 5 doctors in there, plus the anesthesiologist. This is when I was extremely glad I had elected for the epidural. Because it was already in, he could merely inject more medication to numb me completely for the c-section. Had I not gotten one, they would ahve had to quickly put me under completely and I would have been asleep for the operation. I wouldn't have known how he was doing until they were completely done, which would NOT have been fun.
10 minutes, yes, 10 minutes after they called for the c-section, Kincaid was born. I was numb but aware and could sort of feel what was going on down there. I was still incredibly nauseated and started to throw up on the operating table. That was the low point of the day...Travis wasn't able to get in there because there was no time for him to get scrubbed up and come in, which I really hated. The anesthesiologist was really the only person paying close attention to me (at the head end, anyway) and somehow interpreted my movements and speech to mean that I was going to throw up, so he put a pillow under my head and brought a pan over. I still threw up all over myself, but he cleaned me up, bless his heart.
When they pulled Kincaid out, I saw him being carried over to the warmer/oxygen table. He was extremely pale/blue and wasn't doing so well at first. It was scary. I didn't really care how/what I was doing, I wanted to know he was OK. Within just a minute, he was breathing and doing a lot better. Then they were able to bring him over to me to see and he was gone again. THis was my least favorite part of the whole ordeal, but he definitely needed some TLC. I really was looking forward to the freshly-born baby being placed on my chest, but it just didn't happen that way, and that's OK. I am actually really glad I was at a hospital. If I had gone the route I wanted at first and had gone to the birth center, it would have been a LOT scarier to be transported to the hospital with a prolapsed cord vs. having to just roll down the hall. I missed out on a lot having to give birth this way, but I would have missed out on a lot more if Kincaid hadn't survived. I'm one of the 1 in 1000 (or more) that wouldn't have done well at a home birth or birth center. I am ever so grateful for modern medicine! I feel as if Bozeman Deaconess did an amazing job at acting quickly and taking good care of both of us afterwards. I had to stay for 4 days and Kincaid was released on his 5th day. He had jaundice due to a lot of bruising from being "un"born and re-born. Poor thing. He had some sucking issues as well and we had to rig up a syringe-to-tube-to-breast shield thingie to feed him for the first few days. I didn't mind that, though, because it enabled Travis to be able to help with the feeding from the get-go.
This is one of the first pictures Travis took of him when he came out of the OR. I was still in recovery and hadn't held him yet...he was all hooked up to IVs and monitors, poor guy.

Kincaid wasn't able to stay in the room with us the entire time like we hoped, but the nursery staff did their best at keeping him with me as much as possible. He needed light therapy for the jaundice, so they used the biliblanket (a light blanket) as much as they could. They brought him to me for feedings round-the-clock, and several of them let him stay longer than he was "supposed" to. He's been a total sweetheart from day one, and one of the nurses told us he was her favorite. Another nurse that was a little abrasive at first was overheard saying, "No, I have him tonight! You had him yesterday!" I just thought it was funny...nurses fighting over who is assigned to him. Travis thinks it can be attributed to the fact that we are both laid-back, and maybe that's part of it, but I like to think it was because our little guy is a charmer.
He did pretty well in the hospital, especially given the number of times they had to prick his heel to test the bilirubin levels. On day 5, we were getting extremely antsy about being able to go home. Our pediatrician was planning to stop by around 8 a.m. to check on him and determine if he can go home. He told us he might be able to go home that night if his levels are lower, but we'll definitely need to take a biliblanket home with us. I asked if we could maybe go home and then schedule a time to come back the next day since we lived barely a mile away. The doctor looked at me funny and said, "Dont' you live in West Yellowstone?" I said, "No, I had to move up to Bozeman when I was put on bed rest. We live over behind the library." He admitted that changed everything and set us up to leave that day and rent a biliblanket. Thank GOD. Looking back, I realize that 5 days isn't very long, especially with a complicated birth, and that parents with preemies have to endure MUCH more difficult hospital stays and often have to go home w/out the baby, but we were nonetheless very very ready to go home since originally they'd said it would be 3 days.
My mom had made it to Bozeman by that time and was a huge help going to the store for us and getting the things we needed. She also took some of the load off Travis by staying with me and such. I'm not sure how well we would have fared w/out her help since neither of us have family here, and I don't have many friends to call on in this town just yet. My nearby friends are either in Missoula (3 hrs away) or West Yellowstone (1.5 hrs away).
We did get to go home that 5th day and were under orders to keep Kincaid on the light blanket as much as possible. I stayed in the living room with him that first night since Travis needed to get some sleep before going back to work the next day. I think he looked pretty cute:

When we took him back to the pediatrician two days later, he looked so good that the doctor didn't see the point in pricking his heel again. That made me happy! He did look better and was definitely starting to feed a lot better too. I could get rid of the breast shield and am still able to pump plenty for Travis to keep helping with feeding and therefore helping me get more than 2 or 3 hours of sleep at a time.
I'm working on getting birth announcements mailed, so if you want one and know I don't have your mailing address, send it to me at oldberry@gmail.com
I'm going to try to be good about blogging about his milestones and such, but probably won't be as fastidious about it as I want to be. I start working for the University of Phoenix on July 20, and hope that I can make working from home, well, work while having an infant. I have to bring in some money somehow, so hopefully this will be good enough and enable me to be home with him. We're hoping his naps and Travis at-home time three days a week will help me out. We'll see.
Off to nurse...seems like he just fell asleep, but time flies when I'm getting things done or napping when he naps, either way.
More photos are viewable on Facebook, or you can link to the albums here: and here

Crib! and thought-provoking passage

2009-05-05T19:58:00.004-06:00

Travis is finishing up putting the crib together, so I'll post pictures once I get the bedding all in it. It's really pretty and feels good and sturdy. Thanks Mom, Dad, and Jordan! I am still trying to get all my stuff from West put away and moved in, so baby's room is acting as temp storage for that stuff for the time being. It's frustrating to be on bed rest and be expected to not do much when every instinct I have tells me to CLEAN and organize and generally get ready for baby. If you know me, I'm not at all OCD when it comes to cleaning and organizing, so it really stinks that the one time I want to be this way, I'm not allowed to be. I am limiting myself at least to activities I can complete sitting down. I've discovered that a lot of things can be accomplished while sitting and reclining, so long as you make necessary materials available and have several chair heights.
Working from home, well, writing lesson plans from home anyway, is definitely tedious and time-consuming, but I'm glad I have that to keep my mind busy. I am trying to get as much done in advance as I can, but after spending 5-6 hours in a row writing plans yesterday, I found it pretty difficult to jump back in today. Part of me knows I'll feel better if I knock out the rest of the year (5 more weeks....) and then just worry about grading assignments, but the other part of me can't find the motivation to work on them every day. Tomorrow I'll be back at it, I suppose.
Travis remains a saint. He cleaned my entire cabin in West on Sunday and wouldn't let me do anything but sit. I was just grateful to be able to get out of the house and have a change of scenery for a day. We drove back up through Yellowstone and saw lots of bison (but no babies! sad!) and a bruin black bear near Mammoth. There's a wolf family hanging out near Mammoth, but we didn't see them, sadly. I have still never seen a wolf in the wild, which is odd for having been out here for five years now.

I think the nesting instinct has hit Travis, too. His friend's wife went into labor late Sunday night and it threw him into a bit of a reality check. He said to me, "I guess I just thought you guys kept getting bigger and bigger and nothing would really happen!" He cracks me up. I have to admit though that sometimes it does feel like pregnancy is a permanent state of being. Thank GOD it isn't. I'm not ready for this baby to be here, but I am VERY ready to no longer be pregnant. I am much, much happier, however, being here in Bozeman with Travis and not working full time. I feel much healthier and able to rest. I still don't really sleep much at night, which I know is normal, but at least if I get tired during the day, there's no reason I can't nap. I'm trying to savor the quiet as much as I can for now, but I really wish I had more than one or two friends in this town! It's kind of hard to meet people when you're supposed to be doing nothing.
So, when I'm not writing lesson plans or flipping channels or fostering my Facebook addiction, I'm reading. I decided I wanted to read at least one non-pregnancy/baby/childbirth book because they are all I've read for the past 8 months. I got a book recommendation from my friend Meghan, who also claims The Brothers K as one of her all-time favorite books (and like me, Meghan has read a LOT of books). (If you didn't know, The Brothers K is where our kiddo's name Kincaid comes from). She told me I should read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. It's a book narrated by an 11-year-old boy whose father was killed in the 9-11 incident. He is going through his dad's closet one day and finds a key in a little envelope. The bulk of the story is him trying to find out what the key is for, the people he meets along the way, and his related adventures. It's the kind of book that makes you cry, laugh, and think all in the same sentence. I really like it. It's the first fiction I've read in a long time, and I forget how much I enjoy well-written fiction. Here's a short passage I just read that I liked.

"What if the water that came out of the shower was treated with a chemical that responded to a combination of things, like your heartbeat, and your body temperature, and your brain waves, so that your skin changed color according to your mood? If you were extremely excited your skin would turn green, and if you were angry you'd turn red, obviously, and if you felt like shiitake you'd turn brown, and if you were blue you'd turn blue.
Everyone could know what everyone else felt, and we could be more careful with each other, because you'd never want to tell a person whose skin was purple that you're angry at her for being late, just like you would want to pat a pink person on the back and tell him, "Congratulations!"
Another reason it would be a good invention is that there are so many times when you know you're feeling a lot of something, but you don't know what the something is. Am I frustrated? Am I actually just panicky? And that confusion changes your mood, it becomes your mood, and you become a confused, gray person. But with the special water, you could look at your orange hands and think, I'm happy! That whole time I was actually happy! What a relief!"
-Jonathan Foer, in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

bed rest

2009-04-23T09:33:00.002-06:00

I've had a pretty eventful past few days! Friday at the doctor my blood pressure was much higher than normal for me...143/92. I'm usually in the "are you alive?" category of blood pressures at closer to 110/70 or lower. So, this is cause for concern. I had no idea how crucial normal blood pressure during pregnancy was until mine was no longer in the normal range. Apparently, it means bed rest and close observation, but they didn't want to do that to me just yet, so they had some blood drawn, did another urine test, and sent me on my way. Also, since I had just had a Coke a couple hours before my appointment, they let me go home and said to check it before I went back to West Yellowstone on Sunday. So, since we were already at the hospital Sunday for birthing classes (a LONG two days, but very worthwhile..definitely calmed my fears about a hospital birth) I asked our nurse/teacher if there was a place I could check it before I left. Well, she took me up to the Labor and Delivery ward (small hospital, so just upstairs) and asked them to check it for me. I'd felt pretty yuck that day, but attributed it it to the stuffy conference room, sitting, and the exercises we did earlier that day. I had a headache, felt nauseous, my hands hurt and my feet were pretty swollen even though we'd been sitting all day, and I had snagged one of the birth balls to sit on because I love them.
Anyway, when they checked my BP upstairs, it was still elevated. Apparently, they were not allowed to let me out of there until they did a full check of everything, so this turned into an outpatient admittance to L&D and several hours of waiting. At least I got to sit in a comfy labor room and Travis was there. We were pretty irked at first and tried to wave off any other help because my doc had just said to monitor it, but they said, well, you're here, and it's high, and you're 34 weeks pregnant, so we need to check to make sure the baby is OK or we could be in trouble. Ah, liability. I think sue-happy people have ruined the world. So they put me on the fetal monitor and I tried to be happy that I could sit and listen to Kincaid's heart thump-a-thump away like a marathon runner's, and relax. Once I'd laid on my side for awhile, it was back in the 130s/80 or so and Kincaid's heart and movements were just fine.
They checked my lab results from Friday, and they were all negative for anything preeclampsia-related, so they did another urine check and that was also clear. They let me go, but the doctor on call that night warned me that I was probably heading down bed rest road. Fun. He told me to stay in Bozeman and monitor my BP at least through Tuesday and try to get in to see my doctor before I left town again. No problem.
So, on Monday, I rode with Travis to a pharmacy and had my BP checked at the little cuff station. Of course, it was bad, like 150/100. I was skeptical of the machine, but since they said that if it hit the 150 mark, definitely call the on-call OB and report it. So, I did, and it was a different doctor again, and she told me to come in to L&D again. Sigh. It was already 8:30 at night and Travis had to work at 6:30 a.m. the next day. Poor guy. It all seemed like way overkill for blood pressure, but if you've ever had a kid, you know that all of a sudden, what seems like overkill if it's just your body is all of a sudden very important. I am responsible for Kincaid's health now, and he's helpless to do anything. I'd much rather go in and be told I'm overreacting than to ignore it and have something bad happen.
So, back to the hospital we go. I'm thinking I'm always grateful for living in a smaller city like Bozeman, where getting to the hospital is very easy and a short trip, but this weekend I've been extra-grateful for it!
I went upstairs, found the on-call OB, and was put in a smaller observation room, hooked up to the monitors again, and had my BP checked after I laid down for a bit. It was slightly down but still in the high range. They monitored me for about an hour, Kincaid was still fine, and they drew blood again. Those labs also came back negative for preeclampsia. I've learned that its onset can be extremely fast, so the repeated labs were not pointless at all. They say some women have had morning appointments of totally normal BP and have jumped to full-blown preeclampsia by the afternoon. Thankfully, I am going about this much more slowly.
This OB told me to stay in Bozeman through Friday, buy a cuff to monitor myself at home, and make an appointment ASAP with my own doc. We were home around 10:30.
Stayed at home and did nothing at all Tuesday but rest, mostly on my left side, and my BP was much better, no higher than 130/90. I went to see my doc Wed morning, and of course, it was down, 125/80. Two days of doing nothing will help, I guess. Part of me wanted to get the OK to go back to work because I have SO much to get done down there, but part of me was becoming OK with being told to stay in Bozeman for the long haul. They monitored me and Kincaid for a bit yesterday and ordered a 24-hour urine test. Gross. She also did an ultrasound to check my fluid. All of that is fine. I'm just in the "gestational hypertension" category right now, and I hope hope hope that is where I stay. As long as I do, and preeclampsia doesn't develop, I will not need to be induced and can carry him to term as normal, except stay on bed rest. If my BP climbs or preeclampsia develops, they will have to induce around 38 weeks or so because delivering is the only thing that will bring my BP back to normal, and it's dangerous for the baby.
I have had a totally normal and healthy pregnancy up until this point, so it surprises me and feels odd to suddenly be thrown into the risky category. I'm grateful that Travis insisted on a hospital birth somewhat, because if I'd gotten my heart set on the birth center or a home birth like I wanted, that would have had to have been tossed out most likely. Maybe not, but I would have probably wanted to be at the hospital just in case. Plus, this hospital seems a lot less scary than it did at first. The nurse who taught our class was aware of the negative press hospitals have been getting from some books/methods and such, and talked to us about their particular policies, what IS required (an IV start but nothing connected yet and 20 minutes of each hour of fetal monitor, but they are remote control, so you can still move with them on) and what is optional. She told us that the less interventions they have to do, the better off they are because of liability, and even though yes, an epidural does create more income for them, their goal is not to ring up the biggest bill for every laboring mother. I hope she's right, and I appreciated her honesty and willingness to talk about that. I don't have any issue with their standard procedures and dont' feel as if I will be pressured to take pain meds when i don't want them. However, since I may be looking at an induction, which I really don't want, I'm scared that the contractions will be made much stronger by the Pitocin and I will be more likely to want pain meds. Hopefully the help I will get from my friend Abbi and relaxation methods will make them tolerable. My mom was induced with me and made it through without pain meds, although she says she wanted them at one point.
The hospital also puts the baby on the mom's stomach immediately, encourages rooming in (keeping the baby with you), breastfeeding immediately, and other things that I wanted, so I have much less anxiety about that.
As of last night, my BP was 125/80, which is the lowest it's been in awhile. Part of me wonders if merely the absence of stress, work, driving back to west, and the reassurance that I will be here with Travis for the rest of my pregnancy will keep the BP low. I doubt I'll be taken off bedrest, but it would be funny to see if I was, what would happen to my BP. I'm sure stress is not the only reason my BP was high. They don't know why otherwise healthy and non-overweight women develop it. Just happens. I've gained 35 pounds, but that's not uncommon with my family because we have big babies. So does Travis' side. It is all in my belly and I know my thighs and arms have gotten a little bigger, but not by a whole lot.
So, if you want to chat with me, I'll be around for awhile. I am allowed to shower, go to the bathroom, make simple meals, etc, so I'm not strapped to the bed or anything, thankfully. We have a hammock in the backyard for days when it's not like it is today...winter's making another foray into Montana, surprise, so it's chilly and cloudy and windy today. I'm sure I wouldn't keel over if I wanted to run out to get ice cream or something, but I'm going to do my best to say horizontal and chill out. I'm sure I will be grateful for this time someday, so I'll do my best to take advantage of it. If I start to feel stir-crazy, I can remind myself that this is much better than being at work, sore, swollen, and exhausted, and going home to an empty cabin to take care of everything myself. Now I have a dog for awesome company and will soon have my kitty up here again. Travis is being awesome as always and taking great of me despite his nutty work schedule lately. I hope they let them off early today; he's had 11 and 12-hr days so far this week.
In other news, (yes, it's been an eventful week!) I found out yesterday that my position is being cut in half for next year. This infuriates me because it's already 1.5 jobs to begin with! They're not sure what half is being cut, but my guess is that everything but the elementary library responsibilities will no longer exist. If taht's the case, then sure, it might be do-able in half the time, but certainly not anything close to my current responsibilities! That obviously makes it easier to decide about returning next year. The odds were slim anyway, but knowing that I wouldn't be able to teach my English kids regardless makes it simpler. Plus, I had 2 years to get my library endorsement and I haven't taken any classes towards that goal yet (can't afford them...you couldn't on my measly salary either), so they are required to advertise it regardless of my decision. I haven't told them yes or no yet, because I want to keep my options open and have no idea what could happen before next year, but since they have to advertise anyway, I don't feel as if I'm holding them back from filling it. They haven't even given letters of intent to any of the other teachers yet, so why should I feel as if I have to give them a certain answer? I'm also livid because they are cutting the librarian position in half, but our full-time technology position is staying full-time. That infuriates me to no end. You're cutting remedial English, a great need at that school, but keeping a position that could EASILY be done in half the time or less. Thanks, guys, I feel very valued right now. Appreciate it. I understand budget cuts, but honestly, cut the non-instructional first. I have the feeling a letter to the editor is in line once all this is cleared up. Maybe. Or maybe I just won't care. Probably safer to keep my mouth shut.
I"ll try to post a 34/35 weeks picture here soon...sorry for the endless type and bravo if you actually read all this:)

28 days.

2009-04-17T10:11:00.003-06:00

6 weeks to D-day; 28 days till I can move to Bozeman. I can't wait. I have a doc's appt today where they'll do the fun-sounding Strep B test and hopefully begin determining whether this little guy has turned head-down yet. All I now is that one of his two rounded ends is constantly digging up into my right rib, so I'm hoping that's his butt and not his head. Either way, we'll have time to try to move him around before it's birth time.
Work is still difficult; I am trying to clean up and organize the library before my sub takes over on May 15 but it's a SLOW process because I'm pretty slow-moving. Simply bending over to pick up a piece of paper on the floor takes forever because, well, I can't bend over all the way without pain, so I have to kneel down, pick it up, and then get myself back up again. Pretty pathetic!
I'm still frustrated with not feeling allowed to be excited about this little guy. I don't know why, but I feel like people see a pregnant woman and while some people (those with kids, mostly) think, Oh! A new baby! What a blessing!, I feel like a lot of people think, "Oh good grief, another person, another drain on resources. WHY I think this, I don't know. I know part of it is related to guilt. I grew up in a churchy world that judged unmarried mothers harshly and didn't have room for someone in a situation like mine. I went to church on Easter for the first time in a long time and felt as if I needed to hide my left hand for fear of what people would think. Ridiculous? Maybe, but have you ever been in these shoes? You'd think that the world now would not be as bothered by this, and perhaps it isn't, but that doesn't mean I don't think about it. I hear people refer to Travis as my husband offhandedly, and am scared to correct them because of what they might say. I know that it doesn't really matter, that this baby will have all the love and care he'll ever need and more. He's going to have a mother and a father who will do everything in their power to keep him safe, and a puppy dog who will lick him clean and protect him. I realize that even though we're not married, we'll be giving him a better home than many kids have, but I still have this deeply ingrained guilt that because I messed up, I am not supposed to be happy about having a baby, but rather somewhat "punished" because now my mistakes and "immoral" choices are out there for the world to see. I know this is bizarre but I know that SOMEONE out there has felt this way before. I imagine the teenage mothers of the world feel this way.
This is what frustrates me about the pro-life movement. I know I've mentioned this before but it has bothered me more now that I'm living it. They are by and large Christians who on one hand demonize abortion but at the same time judge sex outside of marriage harshly. You've got to give somewhere. Not everyone fits into your mold of you think a moral life looks like. Would the world be a happier place if everyone followed the rules? Eh, maybe, maybe not. I honestly think some of the pro-lifers are a bit stuck. They want to stop abortions yet they tend to support politicians and policies that do not support unwed mothers. Why? Because they also don't support unwed mothers. If the world was more receptive to unwed pregnancies, I can guarantee that abortions would decrease. Very few abortions are sought after because the woman wants to kill her baby or wants "quick and easy" birth control like they teach you in church. Most are because the woman is terrified, thinks or knows she won't be able to give her baby a good life, doesn't have a father figure available or that father figure would hurt her if he found out she was pregnant. The problem isn't abortion, it's the receptiveness to single mothers and the ability of a single mother to make it in this country, especially financially.
Enough soapbox. I may not have a husband, but I have a loving and amazing man who has and will continue to rise to this challenge even better than I have.
So, we have an infant seat, a changing table, and a crib on the way. We have crib bedding and the clothing collection is growing. I really want to just be here getting his room ready but I have to keep on working for 28 more days. I'm so ready to just be up here in Bozeman with Travis. I'm sure I'll look back on this pregnancy and wonder how I did it. I have not had much choice and there have been and still will be many days when I want to just quit, pack up, and move here and not care what I leave undone. Thankfully for my school, I do care, but sometimes I wish I could turn off that care and run away. I just don't have the guts and I'm too nice.

so much for spring break

2009-04-10T10:16:00.002-06:00

I need to do a little writing and venting therapy this morning. I hate that I keep waking up this week feeling stressed and overwhelmed when I am supposed to be on spring break. This is the only week I've had to just spend time with Travis in Bozeman and get Kincaid's room ready, and I feel like I haven't done much of any of that at all. I'm frustrated and weepy and stressed out. Why?
For one, I am training to teach online so I can bring in some money when the baby's born. I won't have to start teaching until July or so, but I figured getting the unpaid training out of the way now would be wise. It is, in some ways, but it's very rigorous and time-consuming. This is a good thing, yet it has definitely contributed to my feelings of stress and taken away from the time I need to decorate the nursery and be with Travis.
For another, and this is what frustrates me most, I have had to spend hours upon hours finishing the yearbook due to one student's neglect of his work. He left a day early for spring break without telling me, and he had only half-finished two spreads and had not even begun the third. One other student wasn't able to finish all her ads, but it was out of her control for the most part. The other students completed their work before break as expected. I knew I"d have to spend time on the yearbook making corrections and uploading pages, but that would have taken all of 3-4 hours.
All I really want to do is work on Kincaid's room or clean our house or cook sit outside and read. I don't think people realize how much stress piles on a pregnant woman when her normal releases aren't available to her. I haven't been able to do any of the things that normally help me deal with stress for around 6 months or so. If you couldn't ski, go fishing, have a couple beers to unwind, or run or whatever it is that helps you for 6 months, don't you think you'd be a little on edge, too? Add to that the inability to manage your moods because of hormone ridiculousness, and you have a recipe for a LOT of tears and frustration. I woke up weepy this morning because of all the work I have to do, but also just because I'm so frustrated with my situation and there's no way out.
Travis is out fishing, which I'm glad he can do, but I just wish he could have more sympathy for me and not see me as someone incapable of handling all this stress. Who could!?!
I have called and left messages and texted several friends to get together this week and no one has gotten back to me. Why does it always seem like this happens when you most need the company of friends? And when friends want to spend time with you, you don't have the time?
And, of course I just spilled pizza sauce on my last clean shirt when the washing machine is broken. Good LORD I need a break. I can't win.

a note on patience in pregnancy

2009-03-14T15:56:00.002-06:00

I thought I might be ironic and leave this note blank..aka...there IS no patience when you're pregnant, but I won't. I find myself having a lot of Meagan vs. Meagan conflict lately. I'm frustrated with myself often because I hate how easily I get upset. This, of course, compounds into a huge pile of frustration and before long I'm just a heap of tears. It's getting old. I realize this is "normal", or rather, the general lack of emotional control during pregnancy is normal. I imagine it hits different people in different ways. I wonder if anyone else gets frustrated being angry at themselves as often as I do. I wish I knew how to recognize the cycle and stop it before it got to the point where I want to hit the wall. (Which, by the way, I have not done so far...but it's been close). I definitely recognize what's going on as it's going on, but I am so frustrated with the fact that it's happening AGAIN that I get frustrated about that and have a hard time calming down. Sometimes I can call my also-pregnant sister and vent, which is really the one and only thing that has worked so far. She has been my de-escalator lately. When it's just me and I'm alone, it isn't so bad, but when it involves another person, it's worse because then I end up embarrassed at my behavior.
I really want to be the kind of happy-go-lucky person who is super-patient and selfless, always going out of her way to help other people. Maybe I shouldn't make that goal while I'm pregnant because I will fall excessively short of that goal. I have no patience where I typically have loads. I normally have endless patience for kids, whereas lately a simple request for more drawing paper has me snapping immediately. Thankfully I can close my eyes and apologize, re-wording my response, to which most kids say, "Ok, no big deal..." they're the fastest forgivers in the land, thankfully. I'm even a bad driver right now. In West Yellowstone, Montana, we probably have the least reason for road rage of any town in the nation due to its size and sheer lack of red lights or traffic in general. I can say I've gotten annoyed at snowmobilers...since they seem to think 12 snowmobiles in a line counts as 1 car, and they will all run through a stop sign as a unit...but that's about it. But lately, if anyone so much as hesitates at a stop sign, I feel my panties start to wad up. What is this anger? It's annoying. I really prefer to be a laid-back and easy-going person, and I like to think that most of the time I am that way, but lately I've not enjoyed being around myself! This then leads to me thinking that other people must not want to be around me either, and I tend to spend more time alone than I should be. I don't want being pregnant to be an automatic excuse for being a jerk. Most women understand, even those who haven't been pregnant, because they just can sense what it would be like. I always just imagined it would be like PMS on steroids, and it is, but it also doesn't go away in a week. I feel like a bitch a lot of the time, and I hate it! It's no wonder they used to have menstruation "colonies" for women who were bleeding. I want to send myself to an isolated tent sometimes, too.
I really want to try to keep as much patience as is humanly possible with Travis, because he's working so hard. I just wish he understood how short my temper was and even more so, how little physical stamina I have. My feet can't take much standing or walking anymore, and in general I can't handle as many waking hours as I used to. I feel like a complete drag on everything. Some of these books say that when you're pregnant, everyone treats you like a queen and you deserve the first and best of everything. I want to know where they live?! I just feel slow, fat, and swollen.

64 days....

2009-03-11T16:41:00.003-06:00

This picture just makes me laugh...we bought a "student desk" for Travis' computer, thinking "student" meant "college student" but apparently Kmart thinks a "student" is about 10 years old.

my not-so-perfect attempt at my 29-week belly, with a cameo by Dexter the dog.

Last night the school board approved my request to begin my leave 2 weeks before I'm due. I hope I can make it that long! If I can't, I'm not worried, because it would mean either taking a few unpaid days or having days given to me by other teachers. I was mostly worried about the baby coming late and my maternity leave not kicking in until the school year was over, which would mean a LOT of unpaid time that we cannot afford whatsoever. So I'll be able to leave, paid, on May 15 and I'm due May 29. School is out June 12. As much as I'm not enjoying being pregnant, be praying for a NOT early baby! I still fear going into labor early and having my friends drive me to the hospital...a not-so-simply 90 mile ride through a curvy canyon that could be snowy even in May. Two other teachers are reading up on childbirth tips and preparing the "kit" just in case...I've heard in involves a case of latex gloves, a bucket, and several large plastic tarps. I'm a little nervous but I'm glad they're good-humored about it. I was surprised last night when the board did not ask me any questions or require any discussion before approving my leave. I didn't know what to expect since it was going against what our contract states, but I seemed to think I wasn't asking for anything absurd. I'm glad they agreed and that it went so smoothly. I was quite nervous and ready with answers to the questions I could anticipate them asking. I'm glad I didn't even have to answer one. I just wish they knew the relief I feel now, and how much happier I am simply knowing what I'm aiming for and how long I have to hold on until I can be on leave and rest. Ha. Rest. I mean, get Kincaid's room ready, move my stuff, do my sub plans for a month, etc... I am going to try to find nice long-term projects for my classes for that last month...doing an entire month of detailed plans is going to be a LOT of work on top of my already-full schedule.
Actually, I'm hoping I can be productive over spring break (which I can't believe is still three weeks away....) and get most of my stuff besides dishes, towels, and the shoes and clothes I can still wear up to Bozeman so we don't have much to move at the end. I don't have much stuff...books and clothes are the bulk of it. My couch and one dresser can go to the dump, and my bed is either staying or being disassembled and dumped. It's a loft that won't fit through the door.
I'm in the selection process for teaching an online class, and I'm hoping I will be fully qualified. My one worry is that my master's is in English Education and not straight up English, so I may fall short on the necessary English credits when all is said and done. I'm waiting to hear if I qualify, so keep your fingers crossed! I'm trying not to get my hopes up. If it works out, I should be able to get my training done before the baby comes, then begin a paid mentorship around the beginning of July. I imagine/hope I can handle teaching 1-2 classes from home if that's my only obligation besides taking care of myself and the baby. I don't have to be online at any certain point in the day, just 5 out 7 days in the week, and they estimate I'd need 30 hrs a week or so to fulfill my duties. I don't think that will be very easy, but if it means I can bring in enough income to stay home for the first year at least, I am going to make it work! And hopefully by getting experience with this school (it's a for-profit school and years later I'd like to try teaching for a private one, just on principle) I can move on to try other online teaching jobs. I'm hoping that one positive side effect of people losing jobs is that they will go back to school or that the govt or other sources will make it financially attractive for people to get more education, therefore making online school an attractive option for people, and giving me a job! It wouldn't really be worth it to teach in Bozeman next year, mostly because the odds of landing a teaching job in that town are slim to none, and it wouldn't pay all that much more than what I'm making now. I am imagining I can work part time (hopefully from home) and make things work. I really don't feel an inner drive to "succeed at my career" or whatnot. I didn't plan to have this baby, but I would much rather stay home with him than go to work every day and put him in day care. I realize most people who do taht don't have a choice, but I'm hoping we can make it work. I do meet women, though, who truly do want to work and don't have to financially. I don't understand that. I understand housewifery being somewhat dull for some, and I imagine if I only did laundry and dishes and changed diapers that I'd feel pretty mentally dead too, but that's why I'm hoping that using my education/skills/passion by teaching online will fill that void without giving up the dream of staying at home. We shall see. The pay isn't great, but the convenience of making my own hours will hopefully make up for that. I just hope I turn out to be qualified! I know for a fact that I can effectively teach a freshman comp course, as most are taught by grad assistants at universities anyway, but you know how red tape can be...
Anyway, I'm going to drag myself out of the house to drink some tea and try my hand at Spanish conversation down at the Morning Glory. Is it wrong that I send my students to buy me coffee in the afternoons sometimes? I have to keep going somehow and I hold that a single-shot plain latte is far better for me than a Coke. It's just milk with a little kick:)
Pilates tomorrow and then BOZEMAN! Never in my life did I think I'd look forward to going to Bozeman every weekend like I do now. It's what keeps me going through the week.

i'm po', but i'm proud

2009-03-03T16:55:00.005-07:00

That shirt makes me laugh, and I like it because it's so soft and it's one comfy Tshirt I have that's still sort of big enough to cover my whole belly. It's from Po' Folks, the restaurant. Sorry the pictures are kind of white trash...everyone else's belly pics have them dressed all nice with their hair done...whatever. It was Friday night and I realized I should probably take some more.
12 more weeks doesn't sound like a long time, but I imagine it will be some of the longest weeks I've ever had. I am at 27 weeks and feeling bigger by the day. I'm starting to waddle a bit, and running a short errand to buy a new bra wears me out. My back hurts no matter what I do. I take a lot of baths these days...it just feels good to quasi-float and I wish I had a MUCH bigger bathtub. My ankles and feet swell quite a bit on days that I work. Teaching and staying off your feet don't go together so well, no matter how hard I try. If all I did was lecture all day, it wouldn't be so bad, but I find that I move around quite a bit. I am supposed to go to the doctor every 2 weeks, which for most pregnant women in normal towns would mean a quick jaunt across town to pee in a cup, ignore the scale, hear the heartbeat, and have your belly measured. The whole ordeal, unless you have to drink a sugary orange drink, have your blood drawn, or have an ultrasound, takes all of 20 minutes. But when the doctor is 90 miles away, and you have to drive through a canyon in the winter when the roads are unpredictable, you end up taking most of a day to take care of this. Thankfully, the doctor is in the same town where Travis lives, so I don't mind missing a day of work (besides using up my days) to spend more time with Travis.
Our new place in Bozeman is slowly coming together. The landlords decided they needed to repaint the whole place before we moved in, so our move-in date has been postponed. Travis has been selflessly toiling to help them get done by this weekend so we can finally move in. I'm SO ready for us to have a place to call our own and begin getting a place ready for Kincaid. So far, our upstairs neighbors haven't gone out of their way to introduce themselves, so hopefully they are nice people and just keep to themselves. I don't think all neighbors need to be buddies, but it is helpful to have a civil relationship, you know, in case you need an egg or something. They already complained once to our landlords about Dexter's poo in the backyard (one "load"), so we're bracing for that issue. We won't diaper the dog, but we will apparently need to be quite on top of things in that department. Hopefully they just had a bad experience with prior neighbors and are treading lightly. We're good people and good neighbors, so hopefully they'll see that sooner than later.
Next Tuesday, the school board will either approve or deny my request to use my maternity leave before I'm due. I am praying and crossing every limb and finger and toe that I can. I ask you to do the same! This town is a strange place and I have NO idea how they will receive my request, but I've run my letter by quite a few people to ask for input and have adjusted it accordingly. I want to leave work May 1. I'm due May 29. In that time, I still need to move my stuff from my cabin to Bozeman so I can hopefully avoid paying another month of rent. We're paying double right now (Me down here, him in Bozeman) and if my rent wasn't so cheap, we wouldn't be able to swing it. But $1100 in rent together is way too much to be paying for more than the obligatory 2 months of March and April.
I have a little bitty lead on a possible online teaching job, with the actual teaching part not beginning until after Kincaid is born. I'm hoping that teaching 2 online classes at a time will be a reasonable load to take on after about 4 weeks. I can do the work any time of day or night and can do it from home, so I'm thinking I can swing it. The only thing that might stop me from qualifying is that my master's is in English Education, not just straight up English, but they are going to look at my transcripts to see if I'm good. I hope so. It doesn't pay that great, but in return I can stay HOME and my hours are set by me. Plus, I do enjoy teaching, and I'm hoping that doing something like this will help me retain my sanity and feel like I'm doing more to improve the world than changing diapers and consoling a crying baby. Not that those things aren't infinitely important, but I can see myself needing to do something different here and there, even though I would love to be a stay-at-home mother.
I'm thinking I should refrain from watching childbirth classes on DVD right before bed. Last night, and forgive me for sharing, but I dreamed I pooped out my baby on a bus. It was awful. I think the dream stemmed from the lady on the DVD likening childbirth to passing a watermelon through your bowels. Gross. The dream was awfully realistic, and the baby was perfectly healthy and very quiet. He had a full head of dark hair not unlike my sister Sarah did when she was born. Weird dream.
To help me fall asleep lately and just because I love the show, I've been working my way through the This American Life radio archives online. If you have never listened to this, you need to start. The website is www.thislife.org, and I recommend starting with the favorites. You can also subscribe to the weekly podcast on Itunes. However ,most of the archives (from 1995 on) are available to stream for free, which is what I do at night. Put one on tonight before you go to bed. They're great stories. You won't be disappointed.
Work has been stressful because of the much-hated technology plan we've been working on since this fall. I thought I was done AGAIN but had to go back and fix more things today. It's odd when your boss tells you you need to do something by the end of the day, and you tell him you don't have time because you have classes all day, and he still wants you to try to find the time. So...you want me to throw on a video for my students for no reason and get this useless document done? Ok. I'm so over that thing. I have half a yearbook due Friday and I care about the quality of that book infinitely more than a technology plan that I am voluntarily helping with...a plan that our full-time tech director did not even help write until we were almost done. THEN she decides she wants to change a section that trickles down and affects the rest of us significantly. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes today when I went in to ask her a question during the 20 free minutes I had today, and she says, "If you need anything else, come ask! I'll be working on this all day, too". I wanted to shout, I am NOT working on this all day! I have STUDENTS to teach. You don't! It kills me that since I'm also the librarian, everyone thinks I do nothing all day. Truth is, I have so much to keep up with that I can never be done. I would kill to have one class of 18 kids, even if I did have to teach all the subjects. OR just teach English all day.
I feel like there's normalcy coming...the weeks seem eternal and the weekends fly by. I just want to be done working, living in Bozeman with Travis, and have this baby happy and healthy.

this pregnant life

2009-02-19T16:57:00.004-07:00

Well, I'm approaching 26 weeks...which means I have about 10-12 weeks left, probably more...hopefully more, even though I'm ready to meet this kid. I don't want him to come early since I am still unsure when I will be able to take my leave. I am working on a letter to the school board regarding using my leave before I give birth. Our contract language states that the paid leave can only be used for recovery after birth, but the board can grant any kind of leave they want to. I'm very much over living down here apart from Travis, even more so now that we have found a place to live and may begin moving in this weekend. If they don't grant it, I don't know what I'll do, but it won't be pretty financially. I may start registering for $100 bills, if they let me.
Kitty's still doing good...she's getting more used to me and this place and her meowing is subsiding. I am trying to ignore her when she meows and lavish her with attention whenever she's quiet. She seems to be catching on that meowing does not mean I will pay attention to her. She's sweet as she can be, just adjusting. She's been a huge help to have around on these long lonely evenings. I even find it hard to drag myself out to go watch a movie in the evening or hang out at someone's house. All I want to do is sit in the bathtub and go to bed. It's not the same sort of tiredness that I'm used to from being a teacher...it's much worse. I really want to be more active than I've been. My legs and arms are not looking the way I'd like them to because I'm not skiing like I did last year. I am trying to stretch every day at the very least, and some days I have the energy to do some exercise of some sort, but it also has to be the sort of exercise I can do in a teensy cabin. It's hard to just take an evening stroll when it's so cold out and we don't have any normal ground to walk on...it's all snow and ice. Plus, my feet hurt after about 15 minutes.
I want to know where the notion of pregnancy being wonderful came from. I seldom feel wonderful. I am, however, starting to get more "oh, cute belly!" comments than before. The moms that come into the school to volunteer have been very sweet and helpful, offering the kind of advice that's actually welcome, like giving me books they enjoyed or just asking how I'm doing. The school janitor is still driving me crazy most of the time, even though she has a sweet heart and means well. She gives me a daily update on how I look. Today it was, "You look better but I've never seen a baby sit so low! I hope he's OK in there and starts moving up soon." Yesterday it was, "You look awful...did you get any sleep last night?" She's an adult with the filter of a kindergartener sometimes..just doesn't hear how her comments sound sometimes. On the other hand, she is always tossing granola bars at me, which I welcome. I don't, however, welcome the other random gifts she leaves, which have so far included a pair of leopard-print flats, size 6.
Sleep is now a nightly trial. My doctor gave me the go-ahead to take one Benadryl to help me fall asleep if I need it. I was grateful for that, but sometimes that doesn't even work. I can fall asleep, but I wake up so many times to use the restroom or because Kincaid is bopping around in there, that I don't feel as if I ever get a full night or enough hours in a row. I wake up exhausted every day. I get a little annoyed when other people complain of being tired, because no amount of tiredness compares with this kind of tiredness.
My belly is also extremely sore. I'm guessing it's the round ligament at the bottom of my stomach. It feels like I did the world's toughest abs workout yesterday and I'm sore from it now. Unfortunately a heat pack and rest won't make it go away this time...it's just going to get worse. I am scared about the whole "split down the middle" they talk about where your ab muscles split as you get big at the end. Yikes. Ow.
In other news, the school website was taken off my shoulders last night, thanks to the shop teacher Adam. I am so grateful for this. I hadn't had the time to even deal with it and dreaded the occasional check-ins I'd get from my boss because I'd have to admit that not much more was done with it. I reluctantly took it last year when the girl who had created it graduated, because I'm the publications teacher, but I didn't know what she used to create it and have so much else on my plate that I didn't have the time to figure it out. I'm supposed to be automating the library by retroactively cataloging all of our books. I barely have time to do that, much less tackle a website and teach my kids how to do it.
I'm getting scared that no one out here is going to throw me a baby shower because I don't have any family out here that would typically do that. My closer friends are still in Missoula or scattered other places. My little sister Sarah is determined to figure out a way to throw me one from Florida, using the internet somehow. I'm all about it...just curious as to how it will actually happen! I'm guessing someone down here will throw one, but I would just be really sad if no one wanted to. It would feel like middle school rejection all over again! I don't even care about the stuff as much as just hoping I have good enough friends who would want to do that for me. I haven't lived here that long but I'm hoping someone will be up to the task...
I'm excited about my mom coming out in mid-June. She'll be here for 2 weeks to help us out and I'll either have just given birth or we'll have had him for a couple weeks and be way behind on everything from laundry to grocery shopping. Either way, while I've heard some people don't look forward to their mothers being there to help because they are overbearing, I don't think mine will be that way at all. Travis will likely be back at work and I don't have many friends in Bozeman yet at all who will be helping me. I'm guessing I will be very happy to see her. I am scared about not having a community of people in Bozeman who can help us out. Travis has friends, but they're mostly guys, and while some of those guys have wives that might help out, not all of them do. I wish I could at least go to Missoula where I know enough people to call if I need something. In Bozeman I'll be out of luck and can't afford to hire someone to help out, either.
Meanwhile, I've listened to enough This American Life to certify me to stand in for Ira Glass. I love that radio show and have worked my way through most of the archives. I like listening to them as I fall asleep. It's like reading but you can have your eyes closed and the lights off:) If you've never listened to it, you're missing out. You can listen to archives free at www.thislife.org, or subscribe to the weekly podcast (free) through the iTunes store. It's broadcast on public radio. I really liked last week's "Somewhere Out There", especially the story about the two transgendered girls. I'm reading a book for my library about a transgendered teenager, and admit it's not something I've ever given much thought to until now.
Off to make sense of the pile of clothes staring at me...I pretty much live out of a bag all the time because I go out of town every weekend. I'm very ready to not do that anymore and just have a normal living situation.
I'll try to get an updated belly pic soon, but until I can train my cat to press the shutter button, it'll have to wait till the weekends if I can ever remember my camera.

kitties are the cure for cabin fever

2009-02-03T18:02:00.005-07:00

I did get a new kitty after all. Besides having a knack for waking me up at odd hours and making sleep even more difficult, she's been a blessing and I don't regret getting her at all. I feel a little guilty for not waiting longer for Newton to either return or show up truly missing, but it seemed like all anyone kept telling me is that I need to take care of myself right now, for the baby's and my sake, and waiting any longer was just making me miserable. Sorry for the low-quality picture...my camera is thawing out from being in -30 degree weather the other day. I had to do the best I could with good ol Photo Booth.
She belonged to one of the kids at my school, whose mother was my boss at a restaurant this summer. They found out I was thinking about getting a new kitty and told me about Cola. They needed to find a new home for her because they weren't supposed to have the cat at their current home. I went to meet her and discovered a sweet, 9-year-old black and white furry girl, smaller than Newton but just as fluffy. She's talkative and full of personality. She has 6 toes on all her feet, making her feet big and fluffy, which is quite cute. She adjusted to my little cabin extremely quickly, and so far her only major vice is that she likes to poop right outside of the litter box. I guess if I could choose one of the two options, I'd rather pick up poop off the vinyl than pee. She's strange as cats go..she won't eat wet food, treats, or any people food I try to give her, tuna included. Only dry Purina Cat Chow. I guess that's OK but I wish I knew of something she liked to give her a treat now and then.
I'm doing a little better down here, especially this week. I have a 4-day week that ends on Thursday afternoon when I get to go to Bozeman a day early. I have a doc's appt Friday, and the winter roads somewhat necessitate taking a day to get up to Bozeman safely. The new kitty is definitely helping things seem more tolerable down here. I'm feeling somewhat better and have a little more energy to try to spend time with friends after work some days. I'm quite sleepy tonight, though, and will try to go to bed even earlier than usual..like, 8. Sleep is hard to come by. I'm a tummy sleeper, so I naturally want to roll that way, but I cannot, so I flip from side to side and ahve a hard time getting comfortable. People keep suggesting lots of pillows but that requires staying in one position all night, more or less, and I can't do that very well! I keep one long one between my knees and hug another, and that seems to work OK. I am borrowing Travis' feather bed mattress cover, which makes my usually-hard mattress a little softer and easier to tolerate on my side. Normally I like a harder mattress but not right now! I wish those sorts of things weren't so pricey. Travis has a memory foam layer on his mattress and I may try to snag that too so I can sleep during the week. If I had the money I'd be buying one for myself! I might try to see what a simple egg crate or something similar costs to see if I can spring for something like that.
I found a book that's helped me a lot too, about moods while your'e pregnant. It's written by a female psychiatrist and if anything the stories she tells about other women just help me to feel normal for thinking the things I"ve thought. She outlines very well what qualifies as "normal" and at what point you should start to worry about what you're thinking. I.E. it's normal to occasionally wish you could stop being pregnant or think you hate being pregnant. It's not normal to begin doing things that you know are harmful to the baby. This may sound like common sense, and it is, but if you've been pregnant you understand that you're not sure anything you're thinking is considered normal! I don't feel like I can say half the things I think out loud.
I have about 16-17 weeks to go, depending on how long this kid wants to hang out. I hope he's at least on time or a little late so I don't end up giving birth in the canyon. That's about my biggest fear. That and Travis somehow not being able to get there. Or something going wrong at the time of birth. Or something being wrong with him...
I just wish that I could at least live in a town big enough to have prenatal yoga, pilates, swimming, something! I got a prenatal fitness dvd from the library, and it's actually really good and I want to try to do it a few times a week. I just need a bigger "living room" to do everything I'm supposed to without running into my bed, dresser, oven, or coffee table. Yes, I can stand in one place and touch all of those things at once.
I'm trying very hard to keep my motivation up for work, but it's so hard to concentrate on teaching! Travis is being smart...distracting himself by building furniture and going to home-buying classes. I try to find things to pass the time quickly but don't end up having the energy to do most of them. I really should be devoting this time to cataloging the library, but the last thing I want to do when I'm tired, hot, and hungry is stay at school another hour to enter books in the computer. And going back? I've entertained the idea, but I have never felt exhaustion like this. I suppose if I have a 2nd one someday and have to experience pregnancy plus motherhood, then I'll look back and think about how much energy I must have had this go-around:)
I do feel him kick all the time now, and Travis felt him for the first time this weekend. I can see him move on the outside of my belly some, too. It's weird realizing there's a little human in there moving around. I think it feels wonderful though, since it is a constant reassurance that he's alive and, well, kicking.
I'm apparently quite big for someone who's about 24 weeks along. No one hesitates to tell me so. Why people all of a sudden feel it's kosher to comment on my size is beyond me. I am tired of hearing that i must be having twins to be so big at this point. I can't help it. Baby grows as he pleases. My weight gain is right on track and only my belly is growing, and it's growing out and out and out. I honestly don't think I'm that big at all, but all the comments I get make me wonder otherwise. We'll see what the doc says on Friday. Sorry it's just my belly and not my face..photo booth only gives me 3 seconds to get in place and I couldn't get my whole self in there in time:)

ten reasons why i need to move to bozeman as soon as possible

2009-01-20T21:39:00.002-07:00

ten reasons why i need to move to bozeman as soon as possible

10. Sweet tea is available at at least three local restaurants.
9. Snowmobiles cannot operate on city roads.
8. Minnesota and Utah plates don't outnumber those from Montana.
7. It's closer to Missoula when I want to visit.
6. Bozeman has a hospital and actual doctors.
5. There are grocery stores where a gallon of milk costs less than $5.
4. People there are mature enough not to deface your missing cat poster.
3. Bozeman Public Library.
2. My sanity is slowly slipping into the caldera.
1. Travis.

i hate when i'm so down that i don't even want to tell anyone because when I do, nothing they say really helps. It all seems trite. I feel like the typical teenager screaming, "You don't know what it's like! You don't understand!" I do feel like no one understands, even if some people can to an extent. I don't know anyone else who's tried to live alone through a pregnancy, and that part--being alone--is what is so incredibly difficult. I can't sleep, I'm lonely all the time, I don't have my normal energy to go do things with friends, and my friends probably don't want to sit and bum around with a depressing pregnant girl anyway. I don't blame them. They have happy, exciting lives with new boyfriends, puppies, and other, well, happy and positive things. A pregnancy SHOULD be a happy and positive thing, but it just makes me feel bummed out all the time.
I hate that health insurance is all that stands between us being together and supporting each other through this. Why do I feel like I'm being punished? I thought I did the right thing by keeping this baby. It feels right, most of the time, but some of the time, like now, I wonder what the hell I was thinking. I knew it would be hard, but I didn't realize I'd feel so miserable. It's as if the first few months with the nausea and crazy heartburn and other pains and ailments were enough distraction to forget how lonely I was. Plus, my kitty was around, and it made a huge difference just to have a furry little guy with me all the time. Now he's who-knows-where.
A couple assholes in my town thought it would be funny or smart to write on my missing cat flier. I had one up in the post office where someone crossed out "newton" and put "coyote bait." Another holier-than-thou person wrote "if you didn't let him out, he wouldn't be missing." Actually, jerkwads, it's not your perogative what I do with my cat, and obviously it's risky to let any animal outside. I was out of town and he got loose and didn't come back to the lady who was taking care of him. He always comes back home when I'm here, in a matter of minutes in the winter bc he hates the snow. I hate how people feel like it's their place to do something like that when someone is obviously missing their cat. It just isn't the place to voice that opinion. Have it if you will, and I'll have the opinion that my cat was MUCH happier when he was allowed to sit outside for awhile every day. If I made him stay in, he went stir-crazy. What's better for the animal, honestly? I tried multiple times to change him into an indoor-only cat. It was completely futile. If I get another cat, I will go against my usual tendency to get an older cat (because no one usually adopts them) and get a kitten to raise as an indoor cat from the beginning. Then, if we end up living in a place where coyotes, foxes, and bears are not a threat, the kitty can explore the great outdoors. But honestly, I think in most cases it is selfish to make a cat stay in when he loves to be out. Pets are for our pleasure mostly, yes, but who wants a miserable animal?
I heard a frightening story the other day that made me think that even super-careful people can lose pets in this wild place where we live. Some people were walking a couple of dogs on their residential street the other day when coyotes came out, pounced on the dog, and killed and ate it. Right in front of the owners. Maybe it was karma and whoever wrote "coyote bait" on my flier is the person whose animal actually was. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, even an asshole, but it would be sadly ironic.
Speaking of irony, isn't it pretty awesome irony that we had a man who is half black/half white be sworn in on steps built by black slaves? Bet they never thought that could happen. I feel optimistic for the future, because although I don't see Obama as any sort of messiah or fix-all, I do see him as a capable and intelligent man who is capable of seeking help when he needs it. You can't be TOO humble to be the president, but I think he has enough humility to admit when he doesn't have the answers. That trait alone is a rare one in a leader, and one that I feel like our last president lacked. I have no desire to bash Bush, he's had enough of that I'm sure. I don't claim that I could have done a better job than he did, because it's all so much more complicated than what we see through the lens of the media. I don't see much evidence of good from his 8 years, but I also know he had an extremely hard job to do and I never once envied him. If I were him, I'd lay low and do something that didn't require much public speaking. I will miss the Bushisms.

stuck in siberia, USA

2009-01-13T19:41:00.003-07:00

Why is it that I feel as if I know what I need to do, yet I find obstacles in my way no matter what? Everything about staying in West feels wrong, but I don't see a way out. Once again money is dictating my life and making decisions for me, and this is so far the biggest one because it is affecting my baby. I'm stressed down here, can't sleep, I'm anxious, extremely lonely, and while I love my job I can't focus or seem to finish anything. The end of the semester is next week and I haven't graded anything for two weeks. I seriously completely forgot about grades and collecting work for two solid weeks and trust me, kids will NOT remind you. My principal has had to ask me 4 times to take pictures of students for a bulletin board. I sent the wrong kid to "think time" today after seeing another one misbehave. I know there's such a thing as the pregnancy 'stupids' but I feel so preoccupied that I'm not doing my job very well at all. I need to write my 1/5th of the technology plan by Monday and I'm way overdue writing a library collection policy. The design for our yearbook cover is due tomorrow, the whole book is due by April 9, and I can't seem to get a grip on organizing anything related to that. I'm a total mess and I don't know what to do about it. Kincaid is doing somersaults because I'm sure he senses my stress even more acutely than I can. Not healthy.
If money weren't an object, I would move to Bozeman tomorrow and work on actually getting to know the man who will raise our child with me instead of spending a day and a half every weekend with him.
But money is an object, so I feel stuck. I don't want to look back at this few months of pregnancy next year and wish I'd made a different decision. I like to live with no regrets, but starting off the rest of my life this way feels just plain wrong. I feel like I can do something about it but I don't know what that something is.
Health insurance is the real problem. If I could get that covered for a few months, I would be OK. As soon as the baby can be put on Travis' when he gets it, I don't so much care about myself right away. I can deal. Do I join the Army for a few months and then say nevermind? Do I try to see if I could qualify for Medicare if I quit my job? Do I invent a fake mission trip and send out support letters to gather money? Do I see what the difference would be if I lose insurance altogether and count the cost? Do I beg my school district for extended leave so I can have some sanity in my life? They'd never approve it, since they all consider themselves some sort of heroes for dealing with the way life goes in this town. I would get zero sympathy from them, even though it's not sympathy I need...it's health insurance. What would it even matter? They wouldn't lose money...they wouldn't be giving my sub insurance, and they wouldn't be paying me anything. Do I see if I can get it through the Cobra benefit and how much that would cost me a month? Could I work enough in Bozeman by subbing to afford that? Too many questions and no answers. I'm just anxious and weepy and tired.
Well-meaning people tell me they know what it's like, and I get frustrated because I know that they have either 1) never been pregnant or 2) never been pregnant and away from the father most of the time. I've done the long-distance thing. It's not fun, and there are hard days, but I would welcome a weekend apart to do my own thing. I'm a fairly independent person, but all of a sudden I find myself feeling clingy and needy, and it's like I don't know myself. I already see the world in a completely different way..through mother lenses...and they will never come off.
I don't want to make a decision based on my pregnancy hormone-induced emotions, but I wonder if those emotions drive us to do the things we need to do, and if I should listen to them.
I have heard person after person say, "Let me know if you need anything!" and I wonder how serious they really are. Because odds are I don't just need a hug (although they're nice...thanks AJ) but actual, physical help. I think in our culture we're really bad about voicing our needs and meeting each other's needs, or maybe that's just the world I've observed. I know that if I heard a need of a friend of mine, and I could reasonably meet it, I would try to. I think most of us feel that way. What gets in the way is the willingness to say that we're not OK and yes, actually, I could use some help.
So, if anyone has a voucher for five to six months of free or greatly reduced health insurance, I would be indebted to you for life.
For example, my parents and friends knew (because they asked and I told them) that I needed maternity clothes. I got what I needed and then some. I'm comfortable most of the time and don't ahve to go to the laundromat every other day. I could never have afforded to do that by myself, and although I could afford to buy a few things, I could never have built up the mini-wardrobe that has come together thanks to my mom, my stepmom, the Websters, and Travis' mom. I cry whenever I get something else, mostly because I am grateful, but also because I definitely have the whole weepy thing going on.
I need help to get out of here and keep my insurance, or I need the strength to make it through the next 4-5 months alone and pregnant, working full time. I don't mind working at all. In fact, if I were able to go to Bozeman in time, I would immediately register as a substitute teacher and sub every day until I can't walk anymore, if it gets to that point. I"m already applying for and looking for ways to teach online. I can bring in the income, I just can't get the insurance if I quit my job early. (SIde note: If anyone reading this knows of good online teaching opportunities, please pass them my way!)
Another thing to pray for would be for my school to uncharacteristically grant me a longer leave of absence (unpaid) so I could move to Bozeman but retain my benefits through August. That would take a miracle. Another miracle, even more unlikely, would be for me to transfer to Bozeman school district, so I would be transferring my contract instead of quitting. But no school will hire a 5-month-pregnant teacher, even as an aide. On top of that, there are never openings in Bozeman. It's like Missoula, where certified teachers with Master's degrees are making $9 as teacher's aides.
But those two situations would be both miraculous and ideal. I figure if there's a human being growing inside of me, perhaps my wishes are not ridiculous. My school will think so. They will roll their eyes at me and consider me ridiculous. The board will vote 5-0 "NO" on a leave of absence. But I will still try to ask. If I don't ask, even if they think I'm being foolish, I will hate myself for not at least trying. I want to be able to tell Kincaid someday that I did everything I could to be with his daddy before he was born.
Oh, and my cat's been missing for 2 weeks. Seriously cat, I need some sort of companion right now...come home.
In an effort to not be Debbie Downer, because that's how I feel this week because things are getting hard, I have to remind myself that I do like my job and I work with kids who like me and whose company I (mostly) enjoy. My coworkers are kind and supportive. My administration lets me do my job without excessive interference. The school lunches are even good (unless it's fajitas). I can eat well, stay warm at night, I have a wonderful car that can take me to Bozeman safely each weekend (knock on wood!), my rent is cheap, I have no lease to complete, I live in a beautiful, snowy place where it's easy to find solitude and quiet, even though it's not quite the solitude I need right now, it's nice to know that I can be deep in the woods in a matter of minutes of walking in any direction from my front door. I have friends and family who love me and most importantly right now, a boyfriend who is more than words phenomenal.
What do I do? I don't have any desire to be considered a hero. I want to do what's best for these new relationships. I want to do what's best for Kincaid, me and Travis. I want to start this out right even though I feel like that's out of my control.

back in white

2009-01-04T17:35:00.002-07:00

I'm back from seeing some family and meeting some new "family" in Idaho. I went to NC to see my dad and stepmom, plus my stepsister Cat and my sister Sarah. I also was lucky enough to get to see my other "family" the Websters and tour Biltmore in Asheville. Living alone and being pregnant is really hard, and it was so good to finally see some family and just relax for a few days. I really wish i could have seen my mom and Caroline, but my best friend Money prevented that. My mom will be coming out when the baby is born in early June to help out me and Travis for a few weeks, which will be a huge godsend I'm sure. I don't know when I'll see Caroline next, which kills me since we're both pregnant at the same time and won't even be able to see each other. I suppose it's my own stupid fault for moving so far away, but I was going to lose my sanity if I stayed in Florida any longer.
I arrived home to a somewhat missing cat. I say somewhat because a man called yesterday saying he was at his house and I went there today when I got home and he was gone. I left the window open hoping he wouldn't be as pissed off at me when I got back if he was able to go outside and get some fresh air. He usually doesn't stay out long in this cold, so he doesn't go far. Apparently, he did go too far (only about a block away) and got caught in some bad weather and hid under someone's house. That person fed him and petted him, so of course he hung out there. He'll make his way home soon because everyone knows he's my cat. Small towns are like that. I just hope he's OK and decides to come home soon. It's awfully empty in here without even a kitty to keep me company.
I got to meet Travis' parents in Nampa for new year's. I was of course nervous given our circumstances, hoping they didn't think I was a slut or the type of person who would poke holes in a condom in hopes of getting pregnant and holding down a good guy. I am not, of course, but I was worried what they'd think of me, naturally. Thankfully, they are both extremely sweet and easy-going and I felt at ease right away. I felt like I could relax and be myself around them, which usually takes me a little while with new people, especially new people who may be my inlaws someday soon. His dad made us a changing table that is just beautiful. It's sturdy and has a lot of storage space. It's the sort of changing table/dresser that will probably stay around for a very long time. It's oak and extremely heavy, but to me that means it's safe! His mom took me shopping for maternity clothes, too. Incredibly nice and sincere people. I already knew Travis was an extremely lucky catch, but it's reassuring to see where he came from and to know that his family is stable and happy. I hope to meet his brother and sister-in-law someday soon, but odds are my major travels are over until after the baby is born as I'm growing bigger by the day.
We find out Friday whether I'm having a boy or a girl. It will probably be a girl simply because I am hoping for a boy. I feel bad for the girl if we have one because someone will inevitably tell her we wanted a boy. I love little girls to death; i only want a boy because I never had a brother and I know Travis would be thrilled with a son. Thing is, he'd have a little girl wrapped around his finger so fast he wouldn't know what happened to him. I tell him he'd love a little girl more than life itself, but he's skeptical. We'll see.
I do not want to go back to work tomorrow. I like my job but I'm so ready to start this new stage of my life that it sucks to be stuck down here alone in this tiny cabin. It's so hard to concentrate on making a yearbook, teaching English, automating a library, teaching film, keeping a library running, and generally anything else not baby and family-related. I know I'd drive myself batty if I wasn't working, but i just want to be working in Bozeman to be near Travis. I think even having a roommate right now would make things a bit more tolerable. It could be a lot worse right now, and I know I should be thankful I have a good job, awful pay as it is, and suck it up. Meanwhile, Christmas always makes for an extremely tight month money-wise, and I am not working at the restaurant like I thought I'd be. We're not getting as many tourists this winter because the snow was late, the snowmobile issues in the park were unresolved until recently which makes people not want to make reservations, and on top of that there are more earthquakes in the park than usual which makes people afraid to come here. Don't blame them. I don't know what that means exactly but it is a little unsettling seeing as that we're living on top of a gigantic unstable caldera. If you watch the Discovery Channel's movie "Supervolcano" you can get an extremely exaggerated and not-so-factual version of the story.
I'll post a few pictures from Christmas time soon. Meanwhile, I'm going to bed super-early in hopes of feeling slightly more rested in the morning.

I think I'll move to Albania

2008-12-16T17:11:00.004-07:00

Every new situation in life requires a lot of learning. I like to learn new things, but often these things cause me stress. I'm quite stressed this week, and not simply because it's the most stressful week of the school year (ask any teacher) but because I'm trying to figure out my maternity leave/resignation/job/money situations, and if you know me well, you know that money is my demon. I hate thinking about it, talking about it, planning around it, etc. On top of being stressed, I have not been able to relieve stress through my typical outlet: exercise. Why? It was -15 and windy in Bozeman this weekend. Monday I had a meeting that went till dark, and I also did today. I go cross country skiing after school whenever I can, but this is the first week that 1. I've not been nauseated and 2. We've had enough snow. Tomorrow is my day. Skiis are waxed, boots are still a pain in the ass but I don't care. Even if I only have enough daylight to do a quick out-and-back on the short trail, I know that I will feel 100 times better. I will bring my headlamp if I'm feeling adventurous but as I'll be alone, I'll probably stick to the short trail just to get some fresh air and to sweat out the stress. I'm about to lose my mind.
Pregnancy makes most women super emotional, and everyone knows that, but it's still embarrassing when you're talking to your union rep at work and you try to explain why you want to leave work well before you're due and you just lose it. Thankfully I had time to pull it together before facing any inquisitive kids.
I spoke briefly with my rep and superintendent today (who hate one another, which doesn't ever help our plight as teachers) and let them both know I was intending on trying to take some of my leave before I was due. (I'm due May 29 and school lets out June 12, so I would have plenty of the alloted 40 paid days that I"ll never get to take since summer starts) I think this is completely reasonable given the situation. I have to move into a new place in Bozeman and get settled before I have the baby. I currently live alone, in a tiny cabin, 90 miles from any medical care. I am moving in with a man I've never lived with before and currently only get to see on the weekends. For our sanity's sake, I think it would be wise for us to at least have a few weeks together before we try to bring an infant into the mix. But what is their response? "No. Maternity leave is for after the birth."
My response: "So, I have to wait to take any paid leave until I go into labor?"
Them: "Well, of course not, but the language clearly states that maternity leave is to be taken for recovery after the birth."
Me: "Well what are my other options? With all of the doctors' appointments I'll have before the birth (and a 90 mile one-way trip for each one on winter roadways) I will not much sick time left. Can I take unpaid leave?"
Them: "I don't know."
Me: "Well, can we find out if that's possible?"
Them: "We'll look into it. I have names and numbers of previous teachers who were pregnant and took leave, and I plan to look at their files and find out what was decided."
Thing is, all of those teachers were either married and living permanently in town with their husbands or living already with the father.
ARGH.
Of course, off the record (and after the rep left), the superintendent says my reasoning makes perfect sense to him and he understands why I want to move up beforehand, and perhaps my doctor can write something recommending that. He said "Sometimes there are things in life more important than a job, and I understand that. The last thing I want is for you to be hanging out down here just to get paid and end up giving birth in an ambulance." But I know that he wouldn't take that statement to the bank as far as granting me my paid leave before I'm due. He'll probably deny he ever said it, even though I know at heart he's a sympathetic person and a father himself.
My doctor has already told me she'll write any note I need to help me be able to get to Bozeman early. When I told my rep I'd like to leave the first week of May, he looked shocked. I don't get it. Here I am, trying to do the extremely difficult but "right" thing, and all I meet are obstacles when I try to make the best of it and make the transition smooth. Sometimes I get extremely frustrated at the Montana mindset that we have to be "tough" and stick it out. Honestly, sometimes that's a pretty idiotic point of view. I am comparing a job I've been at for 2 years to what is likely to be the rest of my life. Gee, which should take precedence?
The longer I'm here, the more I want out of this town. The school board president doesn't like me because I wrote a letter trying to explain the plight of our young teachers who want to stay here, and she took it as an insult. She won't look me in the eye in public now despite my attempts to apologize for the miscommunication. Ridiculous. The town council thinks we're overpaid, which is totally absurd. Maybe i'm not tough and I don't belong here, but I've worked very hard for these people, and asking for 10 to 15 paid days that I'd get anyway if I were due, say April 20, is not asking too much. So what if they've never done it for anyone before. I know that is the response I'll get. "Well, none of the other women were able to do that, so wecan't let you." Did they ask? Did they need it? Want it? If I were going to move right back to this town after giving birth, it'd be an entirely different story. If Travis lived here, different story. I realize they have to be fair, but what teacher from 5 years ago is going to hear what they did for me and come sue the school? Possible, maybe, but highly doubtful. I suppose they have to cover their butts, but it's ridiculous.
Plus, it angers me to have learned today that countries all over the world have mandatory state/federal/employee-paid maternity leave that trumps what most US employers give. It makes the FMLA act look completely pathetic. Just glance at the charts at the wikipedia site on parental leave and you'll see what I mean.
Why is the US so antiquated in its beliefs on maternity leave? Do we really still think it's possible for most Americans, especially young ones in situations like ours, to raise a child on one income? If we're really the "pro-life/pro-family" nation we're touted as, we need to practice what we preach. For goodness' sake, ETHIOPIA gives workers 90 days at 100% of their pay. When I tell people my school gives us 40 paid days, they say that's incredibly generous. I think it's pathetic now. 3 months is around the standard for employers' leave, paid or unpaid, in the US. That is also pathetic.
I pray that Travis and I will be able to make it on just his salary, but I sincerely doubt it. I don't think I"ll have to return to work full time since he will have benefits, but I will definitely have to go back part time in the fall. I won't have any issue waiting tables or working another part-time job in Bozeman. But I do not want to teach full time next year. I already was planning to take a year or so off of that, or maybe stop teaching entirely and try to move towards librarianship if I can get the scholarship.
I am definitely beginning to feel the serious lack of support for women and mothers and families that exists in America. I feel as if my pregnancy is an inconvenience. It even crossed my mind today that maybe I should have aborted, to avoid this headache and stress, on top of my already crazy stressful life at least as far as money is concerned. You wonder if you've made the right decision when you continue to come up against walls when trying to do the right thing.
People keep asking me to let them know if I need anything, but the sad truth is, besides the obvious baby stuff like a stroller and a crib, I need the financial freedom to take the time to do what is right, which is building a home (figuratively and literally) with Travis that is welcoming for a child. I cannot possibly work up until I go into labor, go to Bozeman, deliver the baby, and move in with Travis on the same day. That's absurd and asking for a mental breakdown. It's hard enough already going through this thing down here living alone in Siberia. But the people who want to help are not people who have money. They probably aren't even the people who can buy a crib or even a cloth diaper or two. If I were already living with Travis, like I've said, this would be quite different. I would be totally content to keep at my job until the end, or maybe take 2-3 days off before I'm due if it's looking like I'll "go" soon. But I feel so detached down here. No family, no nothing.
This is part of why I get so frustrated at the pro-life movement. I have always known a little about how women and pregnancies are viewed in our society, but now I'm getting a first-hand view at how bad it can be. If the pro-life movement would be less vocal about calling abortion murder and going on the guilt trip slant, and more vocal about the fact that they probably also support better parental leave rights for workers and better benefits for families, then I bet more people would join the boat and support more abortion laws. Until then, I'm not going to half blame women who choose to do what they honestly think is best for them and the kid at the time. I can't judge them, especially now. I wonder if they have more brains than I do! People keep asking me if I'm excited. Granted, I"m trying very very hard to be positive and see the good in this, and the nausea stint seems to be over (PRAISE GOD), but it's honestly really difficult to be excited when I feel so alone in this. It's hard to be excited when I look at the very likely prospect of taking unpaid leave in the spring. I already can't make ends meet as it is. How can I go without pay for even ONE week? I'm scared of what the school will decide, and scared that I will end up choosing to resign even though I don't want to do that. I do know that my benefits continue through the summer if I do resign, so I'm not worried about that. I need to work, and I like my job, but today is one of those days when I didn't really feel like working very hard.

1/3 down, 2/3 to go

2008-12-08T17:18:00.002-07:00

I'm officially more than over my first trimester, Hallelujah. Welcome, week 15. 1-13 were miserable, I'll admit. #2 so far is a mix of nausea and exhaustion mixed with mood issues and hunger pangs. Really, I just feel like a mess. I haven't yet experienced this alleged "burst of energy" the books talk about. I pretty much am ready for bed every day at 5 p.m. Today during Publications I could have fallen asleep right there. At least so far this fall semester I haven't had much of a cold. I had a little one that went away on its own. I feel like my sinuses are starting to get sore today so I plan to start attacking that.
Really, the hardest part of this pregnancy so far is living alone and only seeing Travis on the weekends. If he lived in town and I lived alone, that would be OK. But living in this tiny cabin is going to get really hard the later in this pregnancy I get, I fear. I try to see the benefits..no one to leave a mess but me (and I can single-handedly handle that one just fine, thanks), no one to keep me awake except my neighbors and their fondness for loud, boom boom Bulgarian pop music. (Think loud, dance-mix Celine Dion but in Bulgarian...so, with a little eastern twang to it.) I have all the privacy and quiet I want, which I'm sure I'll someday covet, but right now I need people and hugs and my cat's arms are just too short and his claws are just too sharp.
Most people's reactions are still positive. I got one "i'm sorry" reaction from an ex, but I guess that's to be expected since he hates kids, and any pregnancy would be seen to him as a negative thing. I only had 4 kids in English today (half of the normal 8) and because I am having them interview someone who's been through a difficult time and then write it as a comic (a la the graphic novel Maus, set during the Holocaust), we were brainstorming people they might interview. One of my students' mothers had him while she was in high school, and he said he wanted to get that story from her. From there, we ended up somehow in a discussion about teen mothers, abortion choices, adoption, and pregnancy in general. 2 of them were engaged completely and had 100 questions. The other two were a bit weirded out by the whole discussion, I think. I enjoyed it. I like to be able to be frank with teenagers and I love it when teenagers are able to ask questions of adults and realize that some of us actually like to give honest answers. One of my students asked me today if I thought abortion was murder. I told him I was raised to believe it was, and I still believe it's taking another's life, and doing so when that person is the least able to defend himself, but that I think murder implies that the person is killing the other out of contempt, or jealousy, or hatred. I don't think most women who have abortions hate the child they're killing. I think about the whole issue completely differently now that I am pregnant. This student knows that his mother almost aborted him because she was 16 and unable to raise him. Her parents offered her $10,000 and a new car if she chose to abort. But she kept him. Ironically, this student now lives with his mother's parents. I really hope he's able to get the whole story from his mother and grandparents, because I think it would help him significantly to understand what she went through. These stories we have are so important to write down and tell, and so often they go untold. I know it terrifies my students to have to interview someone (I said the person had to be at least 15 years older) and yet I know how valuable it is to preserve our stories. My dad's story of his childhood is one I hope he is able to write down someday. I know the bits and pieces and anecdotes he's told me, but I imagine there's more.
I know my stepmom has written her memoirs and is trying to find a publisher. I've read bits and pieces but can't wait for the whole thing. The tiny amount I know about her life before she married my dad (and since, for that matter) is fascinating and I wonder how she turned out to be such a positive and amazing person with such a crazy past.

In closing, because it's only 5:30 and I'm already laying in bed, trying to stave off a headache and possibly "nap" so I'll have some energy to clean my house in a bit, I will give you the fine and unprecedented opportunity to complete this Christmas survey:

Welcome to the Christmas edition of getting to know your friends.
If you get the whim to copy/change answers to send around, be my guest.
In the meantime- this is what I thought:

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? paper
2. Real tree or artificial? Real
3. When do you put up the tree? I put one up in my library this year...it went up last Monday.
4. When do you take the tree down? Next Friday before Christmas break. Fire hazards and all.
5. Do you like eggnog? yes, and egg nog milkshakes
6. Favorite gift received as a child? A keyboard? Not sure...
7. Hardest person to buy for? My dad and stepdad
8. Easiest person to buy for? all the females in my family (which is everyone except my dad/stepdad) are pretty easy.
9. Do you have a nativity scene? No, my mom does
10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Mail. always.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie? Love Actually
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? right about now. sometimes after Christmas. I'm awful.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Don't think so
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Honeybaked Ham and any myriad of casseroles
16. Lights on the tree? White or the red and white ones
17. Favorite Christmas song? Luke's Panties
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Have traveled for at least the last 10, traveling to NC and ID this year
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeers? yes
20. An angel or a star on the tree top? The tree in my library at school has a Cat in the Hat hat on top because it's a Dr. Seuss themed tree:)
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? One on Christmas eve; the rest on Christmas day.
22. Annoying thing about this time of the year? how grumpy everyone seems to get, and I wish there were more days to enjoy everything. Also, not enough money to buy gifts for people or travel to see all my family.
23. Favorite ornament theme or color? I like the blue and silver and white look sometimes. Otherwise, I prefer trees that are a hodgepodge of kids' crafts and random ornaments. "Planned" decorated trees are fakey.
24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? sweet potato casserole, ham, Sister Schubert rolls, green bean and corn casserole
25. What do you want for Christmas this year? Money, maternity clothes, baby stuff, time with family and Travis

the audacity of kids

2008-12-01T19:37:00.007-07:00

Thanks for the well-wishes and encouragement, everyone. It's always good to be reminded that a few people actually do read this. I am going to make an effort to keep this better updated as I go through this fiasco called pregnancy and later motherhood.

Telling my superintendent and assistant principal at school went over fairly well. I don't agree with everything they do, but if they do one thing right it's backing up their teachers. Any of you who are teachers out there know that administrators who side with their teachers are a rare and wonderful thing. I feel secure knowing that as long as I do my job soundly, my administrators will hear me out and not blindly side with a parent or anyone else accusing me of something. When I told them I was pregnant, they told me that if anyone had anything negative to say that he or she would be immediately shot down and reminded that I am a human being with a personal life and a professional life. Sometimes that line seems incredibly blurry for someone like a teacher or a pastor or a doctor even...someone who is socially (or otherwise) sworn to be above the standard somehow. When people we look up to "mess up," it reminds us that we're all human. Most people I talk to think that it's not a big deal for me to be pregnant out of wedlock, especially at age 27. I still think it looks bad, and I still think I have somehow let my students down by not living up to some unspoken moral standard, but odds are they don't think less of me. If I had hidden this by having an abortion, I could have avoided letting my students and their parents down because it would have been hidden, but I think the abortion would have worse effects on my psyche and I think it would have been a selfish thing to do in my situation...my situation being one that, with major life adjustments and such, Travis and I are capable of raising a healthy child.
Anyway, I'm not sure the professional/personal life dichotomy is always applicable, but if it works for my administrators (it does, if you look at their personal lives) then it will work for me in this situation.

In the meantime, I'm definitely showing and starting to feel flushed all the time. I'm forever hot and had been having hot flashes, but today I was merely flushed all day on top of being hot. Some of my kids were bold enough to ask last week. My favorite guessers were the 4th graders. They came into the library for their weekly visit and a rather astute boy said, "Miss Newberry, can I ask you a question? Are you three months pregnant?" I couldn't help but laugh but I said yes, I am. He goes, "Oh, because my mom see is 5 months pregnant and you look just like she did when she was 3 months pregnant so that's how I knew." Ha! Pretty observant fellow. Of course, then the barrage of questions came from boys and girls alike. They asked everything. "How did it happen?" "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" "What are you going to name it?" "Does your belly hurt?" "Who's the daddy?" "Are you going to marry him?" "How come you're not married yet?" "Are you still going to be our library teacher?" "Are you going to move?" And so on, and so on.

Perhaps its my upbringing in "SEX IS EVIL" culture that makes me so paranoid that it's now extremely obvious that I did not in fact stick to the promises I made on any of those dozen-odd "True Love Waits" cards I signed. I read a statistic the other day that claimed that youth who signed such pledge cards were in fact more likely to lose their virginity before marriage than other s. I believe it. I know half the people in my youth group back in the day didn't intend on keeping the pledge, but were rather pressured into signing it because it looked good or because they made you stand up in front of everyone, and if you didn't, you looked like a jerk or a slut. I know I meant it when I signed it, but it wasn't a pledge that made me hold out during my teen years and even through college. I know some of it was fear of being considered "dirty" or "used" or "damaged goods." I do remember being taught at those virginity rallies that forgiveness for this sin was possible, but that it might be hard to find a husband who would still want you if you were "broken." Good Lord, the vocabulary. And the sense that a woman who was no longer a virgin was much worse off than a man. That, of course, is a world-wide double standard, but we're all too familiar with that.
My favorite sex scare tactic was the "rose" illustration. Around Valentine's Day usually, we'd have a Sunday School class or a Wednesday or Sunday night small group meeting of just girls where the leader would pass around a single rose to all of us and ask us to feel the petals, smell it, etc, and then pass it to the next girl. She would then place this rose that had made the rounds in a box will other untouched roses, and pass around the box. We were each told to take one. The moral was, of course, none of us wanted the rose that everyone had touched, so we should stay untouched for our future husbands. Thinking back, I realize how horrible this illustration is. What about the poor girl who had been molested? What about the girl who made out with her boyfriend the night before? Good grief. Of course, at the time, I felt good because I was still one of the "perfect" roses. But many weren't.
I still find it ironic that someone stole my True Love Waits ring back in high school on some church trip. I think we were in Virginia, and I think it was at a Best Western. I think one of the hotel housekeepers snagged it while cleaning. He or she probably didn't know its symbolism, and simply saw gold that might be worth something. After cleaning hotel rooms and cabins myself one summer, I can see why such a thing might tempt someone. I think whoever ended up with it should consider it a tip.

Back to the kids. My high school students were much more polite and quiet about satisfying their curiosity. During study hall one day last week, one of my English students passed me a note that asked, "Can I talk to you in private?" So I said yes and he followed me up to my desk. He whispered, "Are you going to be a mom soon?" I told him I was and he sighed a huge relief. I could tell the poor kid was a nervous wreck asking me. I know I am extremely approachable to most of these kids but that is still one of those questions you just don't ask until you're sure. I thought I was doing an OK job of hiding it or that I just looked like I'd been drinking a LOT of beer and binging on loaves of bread or something, but obviously my stomach had that look.
I don't know if I should make some general announcement at a staff meeting or just let word spread. I don't like announcing it as it will draw attention and more questions. I still feel a little bit as if I'm not allowed to be excited about it because it's out of wedlock. No offense, my wonderful Southern friends and family, but I am a bit glad I'm going through this in the land of "Whatever, it's your life, do what you want," and not the land of, "Oh. My. Lard. Did you see her stomach? I bet it's that whatshisface's kid." Not to say there won't be a fair amount of gossip in this tiny town of 1000, but because it's so small, the news will be old by the time I could tell everyone myself anyway. The 4th graders have already spread it fairly far, as I learned when I went to the bank last Wednesday. I was cashing a check and one of the 4th grade girls sees me and announces in front of the whole place, "Miss Newberry I'm just still SO glad you're going to be a mommy!" Her little brother then goes, "You're gonna be a mommy!? Wow!" Thanks, kids. At least kids think anyone being pregnant at any time is a good thing and a happy thing, and they wouldn't for a moment understand why I wouldn't just be thrilled. I love that simplicity and I'm hoping it rubs off on me, especially as I start to feel better. It's probably good that you feel your sickest when you aren't showing as much usually, so you don't have to deal with everyone else's excitement and questions while you're miserable.
Kids aren't afraid to ask me questions, either. Even my high school kids. There are several adults that just try to sneak glances at my belly but would never outright ask. I know they're trying to be polite, but still. I prefer kids' bluntness to adults' whispers anyday.

I am pretty scared about losing all my independence and alone time. I treasure both of these things more than anything tangible I could ever have. Perhaps having a child will make those things fade a bit. I hope it does, because right now when I come home from work I don't even want my stupid cat bugging me, much less a kid. Don't get me wrong, I did want kids in the future, but wanted to be a bit more stable and settled first. I doubt I would have ever gotten to the point where I could say, "Ok, I'm ready to give up my independence, bring on the space invaders!" but I do think i would have felt somewhat ready to give it up. Or maybe no one ever does.

By the way, here is a picture of me and Travis...not the best as it's a self-portrait taken on a whim on Thanksgiving day, but it gives you an idea. I always knew I had a lot of cheek, but good grief...my cheekbones are out of control. I look scary/evil/mischievous in this picture I think because any other angle I held my head at caused me to have a few extra chins. Either way, you know what I look like...at least now you can put a face with Travis' name. He's a hottie, I told you.

going public.

2008-11-13T19:00:00.002-07:00

I guess the public is going to start noticing pretty soon (if they haven't already) that I'm pregnant, so I should probably help myself deal with this crazy change by writing about it. Yes, you read that right. I'm in week 12, almost done with what is allegedly the worst part of this thing. I definitely hope so, because I am anything but rosy-cheeked and happy. I'm sallow-looking and just plain fat. Movies only show the happy part of pregnancy because the first trimester is so miserable, at least it has been for me. I can't eat, and when I can, it's something ridiculously specific that I usually can't get in my tiny town. For an entire week, all I wanted was sausage biscuits. Today I happened to be a bottomless pit, but every day is a mystery. First of all, I am still waking up and thinking, "Is this real? Surely not. No, it was all a dream..I'm not really pregnant." Every morning I think this. Then I look in the mirror and realize that I'm wrong. The belly and other growing parts are tell-tale signs. So is my constant nausea, gas, and bathroom trips. Ladies, this mess is not fun. I of course did not in any way plan to get pregnant, I am, after all, not married, working as a school librarian/teacher, and living in a town 90 miles from medical care. I do happen to have one incredible boyfriend who is the culprit, unless you want to blame my ridiculous fertility. I don't get how this works...women like me get pregnant while trying NOT to, and other women spend the better part of their 20s and 30s trying to conceive and some never do. Seems unfair, doesn't it? I did at first consider letting one of these couples have this baby, but Travis thought that was silly, since we're not 17 year old kids and all. I realize this, I said....but....I don't want a kid right now. I do now, though...I now have new respect for all sorts of people, and I'm only 3 months into this gig.
1. Mothers. All of you. If you even made it through 3 months of pregnancy, you're a hero. If you had more than one kid, you're a saint...because unless this gets significantly better, I do not want to go through this again.
2. Women who have had abortions. Even at a measly 4-5 weeks, I couldn't bear the thought of going through with that, even though it would have been the somewhat socially acceptable, and in some eyes, wise thing to do. I don't really care what other people think would be a good idea...I'd have to live with myself for the rest of my life, and I just couldn't do it. I don't have to live with these people or their opinions for much longer, but I can't move away from myself. I think there are situations that merit that, health-related and otherwise...sometimes saving the woman's life doesn't have anything to do with the actual baby being a threat to her. But I don't think my situation does. I'm 27, healthy, and have an incredible boyfriend who is supportive and present. I'm in ridiculous debt and was planning to move to Bozeman after this school year to work waiting tables and try to make some headway on that debt, but I suppose that won't happen now. Oh well. I'll still move to Bozeman, but for another reason.
3. Women who give up their babies for adoption. Even now at only 1/3 of the way through this, I can't bear the thought of not raising this kid. Maybe if I knew I had to give it up, I could psych myself into thinking it was just a fetus and if I never see it I won't miss it, but I'd be lying to myself. This bond is a weird thing.
4. Single mothers. I'm not one, and I pray that things keep going as well as they have been, because I'd be a total wreck without Travis. Even pregnancy is not meant to be a single-parent thing. I'll be down here sans-boyfriend for most of this, since he lives 90 miles north. I can't imagine really not having the male counterpart to all this. I mean, I've gone through some crap, but this tops it, and it's not meant to be handled alone. I'm not even sure my friends could fill that void. If I were really knocked up without a guy that wants to stick around, I'd probably be planning a move back south....yeah....that would get me to leave Montana as much as I would go kicking and screaming!
5. Mary. Yes, the Mary. She must have felt all sorts of weird things...it must have felt good to believe she was carrying Jesus. Sometimes I wish I could pull that story, but it's already taken.

So, you probably already know that Caroline is pregnant too. She's about 4 weeks ahead of me. Hers wasn't so much planned either, but at least she's married, so she's been socially "allowed" to be excited about it. I don't feel like I'm allowed to be happy, even though when I don't feel nauseated or exhausted or porkish, I feel a little excitement that I think is purely natural. I mean, yes, this was unwanted and unplanned, but it's still a kid, and at some point when I begin to accept the fact that this is really happening, I don't want to spend my pregnancy depressed simply because I was a "bad girl". I set up a meeting with my superintendent (also my boss/principal) tomorrow to talk about the library and "something else I've been meaning to ask." So, I either need to tell him about junior tomorrow or come up with something creative. I should tell, since I'm getting noticeably fat, and one teacher already pointed out my belly. I said, really? You can tell? "Honey, I've had 4...I can tell baby belly from calorie belly." Crap. I wanted to wait till after Thanksgiving. Guess this kid's ready to tell the world before I'm ready.

I'm nervous about the school knowing, because of the social stigma that is still attached to unwed mothers. Last year we had 4 high school girls pregnant, and they were all my students. Weird, I know. No one shunned them really. I just feel like since I'm a teacher, I'm held to a higher moral standard, and I obviously haven't been little miss celibate. Granted, at my school, one of our teachers is dating and living with our superintendent, so perhaps that level of morality is not expected even of our school's highest authority. Plus, I'm not the first unwed teacher/mother...there was one before me, who continued to teach there after the child was born. Reports from an old-timer say that some parents frowned on it (cough...mormons...no offense) the school generally didn't treat her any differently than if she were married and had been trying for a baby. She married the father 2 years later and all was well with her job, and her soul, I assume.

I will not resign my job, though, since you never know what will happen, and I don't want to close that door, because if the economy keeps sucking as badly as it does, perhaps I am better off at a low but steady salary here than trying to find work in Bozeman. Who knows. I know that I do not want to go into labor down here and I definitely don't want to raise a baby down here. This town is cool for what it is, but it is not a good place to raise a kid, in my opinion. Bozeman? Great place. Almost as good as Missoula.

So, of course, this has occupied nearly every thought I've had since I found out on September 24, a week after I stated taking the pill. I took a pregnancy test on the 16th, the day after I went to the doctor to get the pill, and it was negative. I was already pregnancy, however, just not pregnant enough for a positive test. I was crazy sick on the 24th and took another one to make sure, and low and behold...that God-forsaken pink cross. I called in sick for the next day, went to Bozeman to find advice, help, and blood test...and talk things over with Travis. God bless him, he's been amazing since day one of all this, and I hadn't been dating him that long at all. He's a saint. Of course we're both terrified, but also determined to make this work and try to be smart and positive about it as much as possible.

I'm still scared about what people will think..I think that's ingrained in me, or in all people for the most part. It is a healthy fear sometimes, for it keeps us from doing really idiotic things (except, hopefully "what people might think" isn't the only thing that stops us from doing bad things...). But it feels unhealthy when it occupies so much of my thinking time, and makes me want to keep this a secret as long as possible. Silly me thought I could keep it a secret till after Christmas. Ha. I just think that something like this could allegedly happen to anyone, and although I am a teacher held to a higher standard, I'm human. All those pro-life people out there live with a double standard that they don't want women to have abortions, but they aren't exactly running to congratulate unwed mothers. I could have chosen to "hide" this pregnancy, but I chose not to, and I hope the high-and-mighty folks out there won't turn up their noses at my big belly that will not match my bare left hand.

I'm scared about the onslaught of attention, good and bad, that I know I'll face. Word will spread FAST in this town, and rumors will likely accompany facts. Some will probably shower me with attention, others may just look at me sideways and pass judgment. I like to fly under the radar and not be the center of attention, but I've been warned this will not happen. Telling little kids about it ( i imagine they'll just ask at some point) will be interesting and I anticipate trying to explain this to kindergarteners will be especially funny. My high school kids will no doubt be crazy supportive. They're used to having pregos around, since we had 4 last year. I hope that I haven't let any of them down as far as not being the most perfectly moral person on the planet. I'm hoping that people knowing will result in more support, even if that means too much attention, and if something goes wrong, I'll have this community to help me through it.

So, once again, my life has taken a turn for the un-boring. Things were starting to be somewhat steady besides my summer of crazy work and continued debt that stares me in the face every day. Why do i kid myself? I should know by now that the theme of my life is always going to be 'expect the unexpected" whether I like it or not. I do think perhaps this unwanted occurrence will boot me into some sort of normal, stable life, because I wasn't planning on settling down anytime soon. Course, it wasn't that I wasn't ready to or didn't want to, I just didn't find anyone else who wanted the same thing. Now I want it, but I think it's more instinct and hormones than being ready to give up my freedom. They say you gain more than freedom ever provided when you have a child, but all I've gained is weight and nausea.

tip your waitress. karma is real.

2008-09-02T20:06:00.012-06:00

(left) Sydney's Mtn. Bistro

Wow...I haven't posted on here all summer. I'm a slacker, but I was working 2 jobs all summer and tried to squeeze in as much fun as I could in the meantime. I did OK, considering. I started waiting tables in mid-June and actually kind of enjoy it. I thought I would hate it, but I don't. It's easy, except for the occasional balancing act. I didn't break many dishes, and didn't make any gigantic mistakes. I think my general like of people and the type of people who come into this little restaurant make the whole ordeal easier to handle. The restaurant serves what I'd call the best food within the town of West Yellowstone, and it's tiny...only 10 tables. At lunch I have to handle all 10 myself, which gets extremely hairy, especially on Sundays when our dedicated sabbath-observing Mormon dishwasher wouldn't work, and I had to serve, bus, and do dishes. Whew. Thankfully I was moved to dinners a few weeks ago and am now working a couple of those each week. I'm going to keep that up even as school begins, because I need the money badly.
As you might guess, we get a ton of international visitors in our little gateway town, and I love meeting people from all over the world. I have formed my own helpful stereotypes that may or may not be true, and i mean no disrespect to the people of these places by making these generalizations, but they made my job more tolerable and more fun.
If you're from Utah and you have a nice-looking family, I will assume you are Mormon and you will not tip over about 12%. As nice and neat and moral as they may be, it doesn't excuse you from tipping appropriately. I can't figure this one out...Mormons, besides being the worst sober drivers in the world and horrible tippers, are generally so nice you wonder what they have up their sleeves. My student TA this year is a Mormon and she is fantastic. Why don't they tip? I am confused. Midwesterners, typically also nice, neat, moral families that are likely just Methodists or something, also tip poorly. I usually tip well regardless because I believe in the concept of karma when it comes to tipping. I also think it never does any harm to give someone a little extra. If your server did a bad job, he/she probably had a bad day or is busy or just got yelled at by a moody cook or something. Another few dollars could mean their day just got a lot better.
Other stereotypes? The French. I had one French lady make a big show of giving me a whole dollar on an $85 dinner tab. I realize that in France they include gratuity in their prices...but I feel like people who come out to eat in America should know enough to check up on our country's customs. It's a pretty standard thing. The British are either hilarious, laid-back and friendly, or extremely snooty! I had a table of ladies one afternoon stare at me no matter what I did or asked them. I'm a pretty happy waitress...i mean, I can't really describe the spinach salad with much more gusto, mates. All the Germans I waited on were incredibly polite and OK tippers. The Italians were generally happy and boisterous, drank a lot of wine and tipped well. Asians, by and large...Japanese, Chinese, Taiwanese and Korean alike were all excellent English speakers and tippers. They are by and large camera-happy, and just happy in general, which can get annoying...but I welcome them, especially the younger ones. They're lively and polite. I am always amazed at the English skills of many of these visitors. Some of them don't know a lick of English and it's hard to communicate with them, but wow...most of them know it well. Scary for us, as ethnocentric as we can be.
One of my favorite customers was a woman who was from Nashville. She goes, "may i ask you a question? why is there no drugstore here? I mean, not even a Walgreens!! And how do you live without Target? Where is the Target? And a mall? I don't think I could live more than 20 miles from a mall! How far are you from Target?" "90 miles north...if the weather's clear and there's no construction or bison jams or touron jams or slow RVs it takes an hour and a half." She looked at me like I was making it it up. I said, well ma'am, we have a lot of small local businesses and only 800 people live here, so it wouldn't really support a big chain store. She goes, "Well I think if I lived here I'd just go insane. Bless your heart! So what do you DO around here?" "What do you DO around here? I mean, without there being anywhere to go and all." I said well, um, I hike, bike, ski, fish, float, climb, backpack, camp..." And she's like oh. Hm. I guess I never thought about doing those things. Wow. She asked what fun things there were to do in the park, and I think she wanted to hear about cute stores or some sort of musical she could attend. When I mentioned there were several waterfalls a lot of people don't see that are only about a 2 mile flat walk from the road, she waved me off and said, "oh no honey, we dont' do that hiking stuff. Even those boardwalks around the geysers are a bit much for me...we like to sit." At least she was honest! This couple was not overweight or elderly or visibly disabled, either. I really do think she just didn't like to be outside. Crazy lady.

Dinner is better. People expect a more fluid experience at suppertime, so we have bussers and a dishwasher and even someone separate to make salads and desserts. Good for me...lots of help. The shifts go by quickly, the work is easy, although tiring, and I make a lot more money doing that than I do teaching. We sure do value our teachers eh? I can make more writing down orders and carrying food to tables (the most difficult part being opening wine bottles at a table...I'm still working on that...) than I can molding the minds of our future leaders. Makes sense.
That said, here's my political push from the trenches of the classrooms...PLEASE let us have a Democrat. Just for four years even. Really. Please. I'm sick of rich people getting a break. We need help and last I checked no private rich donors were helping out schools and teachers. If you know of any, I have a poor school and some seriously struggling teachers they could be all philanthropic towards. It's a tax write-off! (As if they need it....what?)
in transition...
Today was the first day back at school for the students. I can't express how much easier it is to begin again at a school for the 2nd year in a row. This hasn't happened to me yet, and this morning was SO much better than the previous 2 years starting out at new schools. I know all the kids' names, I know where everything is, I know who is going to try to talk out of turn, I know my administrators and colleagues...these things may not seem huge but they make a huge difference when it comes to comfort level. The kids know me, and are used to me. I only had Film (juniors and seniors), 4th grade, HS study hall and Publications meet today, but all was smooth. I only have 3 kids in Publications, so I guess one will do teh website, one will do the newspaper, and the other will do the yearbook. Ha. I need to recruit. I adore the 3 I have because they will actually work. I have no repeat kids from last year, which I'm tempted to take personally, but I won't. I know it's bc I didn't do things the way the other teacher did them, and I wanted them to actually work and put pride in the book, and a few of them wanted a slacker class. They were also used to that other teacher doing a good amount of the work for them. She went to almost all the school's events and took pictures herself. I don't seem to think that's the best way to let kids learn how to do it..but I think she just liked doing it. Weird.
Tomorrow is Kindergarten library first thing, and that makes me nervous. There are 25 little ones this year, and it's their 2nd day of school. I'm sure it will be 35 minutes of kitten-herding, but they are so dadgum cute. I have 19 second graders next, then junior English, then study hall and publications. Weds are fairly full with little time for the library. I rarely feel like a librarian in this position because I wear so many different hats. At least this year I have study hall and not a 2nd English class. That wore me out. I couldn't give anyone 100% and everyone suffered for it.
I'm nervous about starting up my English class again because I feel like I didn't give them my all last year and I want to make sure I teach them more this year. It will be a fight since they will not be wanting to work, but I'm hoping to structure things a bit differently so they can't fall so far behind this time around. I think I learned from experience that this group (there are 6 of them....5 juniors, 1 sophomore...5 boys, 1 girl) needs more structure than I provided last year. I'm not bit on hardcore structure in an English class, but I think I need to provide more anyway. I'm going to try kickstarting with poetry since several of them showed interest in it last year, and see how that goes. Maybe I'll flip-flop with free choice and whole-class studies. At the end of the year last year, we finished up by reading Into the Wild, and that went fairly well. I don't like doing whole-class novels, but a few of them seemed to enjoy the collaboration and the ability to talk about a book as a group. It's such a small class, it's hard to do effective literature circles. I know...I've tried. At least the one student who was a bit of an instigator is not returning to town this year. I liked him one-on-one, but he made teaching and learning difficult most of the time. I'm really just way too laid-back sometimes to be an effective teacher, I think. I wish I were strict but I'm just not. I enforce what I have to, but I'm too lax sometimes. I'm supposed to confiscate, for example, any iPod I see. During an academic class, I understand their issue with them. But study hall? My study hall will be SO much more composed if I let them listen to their music, so I will let them. Even in English if they're just writing I let them have one headphone in. I guess power trips don't get me off...sometimes I think a lot of teachers just like to hold control over kids. With most of these HS kids, it's not a big deal. They're a fairly chill group for the most part. I personally think teenagers respond better to an adult, even a younger adult like me, who is laid-back and not constantly looking for rule-breakers and calling them out. I also happen to generally like teenagers, so I suppose they notice that too. I'm still not sure I want to stay a teacher forever, but I want to give it one more year and see. I do miss my middle school kids...
Tomorrow will wear me out. 25 5 year olds at 8:30 in the morning will probably drive me to beer at 4:30 in the afternoon. I don't know how anyone teaches those little ones full-time. Even 1st grade. No way. I have great respect for those people.
I'll close this ramble with a brief synopsis of this summer's activities...at least the ones I have pictures of.
Me, Shannon and Jessica in front of the Madison range on the Madison river, courtesy of our friend Jed and his boat, which is not named.

Jessica and I on the Madison, singing some Spanish song about aliens. Vengamos en paz.

Liz and I in Yellowstone during her farewell Montana tour. Still waiting on pictures from our backpacking trip into the Pintlars...

Wildflowers at their peak from the Mt. Washburn road in YNP.

Bozeman sunset in June during a drive back to West

Two bull moose lapping up the Gallatin River

Campsite from a Labor Day overnight to Hidden Lakes in the Gallatins. Notice the granite bench someone built.

One of at least six lakes up there that we found

More pictures to come hopefully...I have a bad habit of being too lazy to carry my camera. Anyone want to trade me for a small, waterproof digital?

back up off with less of that zest

2008-06-05T18:33:00.005-06:00

Note: The following blog is not uplifting BUT there is fun at the end!

I feel eternally stressed out lately. Part of it is the end of the school year but the rest of it is just me. I really hate when I am grumpy and stressed out because I don't feel like myself. I live in such a beautiful place that I should not be so stressed all the time. In less than 2 minutes I can be inside the most amazing national park well...in the nation? I live in a town of 1000 people (plus or minus a billion tourists) that is about 5 by 8 blocks and surrounded on all 4 sides by either BLM, National Forest, or National Park land. I'm lucky and love living here. But on days like this, I can't help but be stressed and just want to vent. What I really want to do is go run in the woods or ride my bike but right now it happens to be windy, cool and rainy and I have to go to fire training in 20 minutes. It is CPR refresher night so perhaps I will take out my anger and frustration on the dummies and do some seriously intense compressions.
The network is down at school and even before that I was feeling the pressure to get grades done, finish the yearbook, etc. EVERYTHING is on the damn network. I couldn't get to a thing today and felt totally useless. In 3 school days the kids will be gone and the yearbook is not even close to being completed. I can ask one or two of them to come in after school's out but most of them start jobs immediately and will not be able to much. Several are already gone to basketball camps and other summer obligations. Lucky me huh. One of my seniors, whose last day was today, about flipped out because her essay for me was on the network and she couldn't get to it. I took her to get ice cream to calm her (and me!) down. It helped I think, but even after Pilates which usually calms me down and helps me feel a lot better, I still feel tense and stressed.
Then my superintendent and the school secretary barge into the library demanding that I write a PO for the library automation when I can't because I don't know anything yet, I don't have anything yet, and it won't even start until July 1. I have no control over that and they were not listening to me. They kept saying something about if they were audited they'd be in trouble, and I wanted to say, who do you want me to make out the PO to? "Someone we'll find out about in about a month?" with "Cost to be determined?" Whatever. All the contact information for teh automation is...guess where? The network. Lovely.
Then, in an afternoon pickup softball game (it was one of those, "What the hell? It's nice out, let's go play softball because there's actually grass now and we can't do anything anyway" days) an 8th grade girl got bonked hard on the forehead with a metal baseball bat and split her forehead open. I ran over and instinctively pressed my sweater against the wound to hold pressure on it. She was definitely conscious and screaming for her dad (the superintendent) so she clearly was ok mentally for the moment (although she turned out to be not OK later). The bleeding was pretty profuse and getting all over her, me, and the ground. The PE teacher who typically treats other people like shit was also there with me and although he knows I have more training than him he pretty much took over and pulled my sweater off her forehead to look (which you do NOT do especially with a head injury because they bleed SO much) and replaced it with a towel and then replaced that with bandages...i mean, eventually you'd need to put real bandages on but I was planning to wait for the ambulance to take care of that. Important thing is to hold pressure and don't replace bandages...pile on top. I could care less about the sweater. But try telling that to this teacher. He kept saying to me, "Ive got it, Ive got it," and I didn't want to make a scene so I stepped back even though I may actually get in trouble because I know the law and he doesn't. He also told her to get up which was a really bad idea...just really frustrating and one of those times when I wish I were more assertive.
I jsut got back from training where I voiced my concern for how the school reacted today. Thankfully they all agreed profusely (and also said to next time be more assertive..but it was hard because i'm nto really certified as a first responder yet so I didn't know where my limits were with that, you know?) and said they had already planned to go to the school and talk to the secretary and hopefullyt hey'll talk to the gym teacher too. The secretary cancelled the ambulance. HUH!?
Anyway, I am super exhausted from brain overload today...training wears me out too because we usually run through scenarios and I'm always scared I'll get it wrong. I got the first one right but the second one I was off on a little. I didn't realize appendicitis presented with flu-like symptoms. Now I know.
Our town's first rodeo is this weekend, and they'll continue almost every weekend until August. I'm kind of glad they aren't right in town anymore bc I would hear all of them if they were. If I'm not too tired tomorrow after work I think I want to take up my friend on his offer to go eat sushi in Bozeman. I love sushi and after this long-ass week I'm ready to just indulge a little bit. Man has this been the LOOOOONGEST week EVER.
So, to make this post a little more lighthearted I figured I'd post some pictures from the other night when I ended up making two batches of jambalaya for my students bc one turned out to be not enough, and a few friends came over and goofed around on my computer.

baby bison and boiling rivers

2008-04-28T16:21:00.006-06:00

Spring is sort of here! It was 55 degrees today and I took my class outside to read. Felt amazing. This weekend is the first time it's been nice outside in a LONG time, so on Saturday a couple other teachers and I headed into the park to ski (yes, still plenty of snow for that). Then that night we went to Norris Hot Springs for a soak and some music. Cool place.

That is Shannon and Jessica at Sheepeater Cliff. It's up near Mammoth in the park.

That is me, same place. Fun trail, although I'm pretty sure we weren't on the actual trail. We just followed some coyote tracks for awhile.
Then I went with my friend Kim to the boiling river, also up near Mammoth in the park. It is where the Gardner River (COLD) meets the Boiling River, which is 140 degrees. Makes for a nice warm spot to soak. Here's where the hot water joins the cold, where we soaked. I like the bright green algae stuff.

When we were walking back, my friend thought it was funny how obnoxiously bright my towel was. I realized it is one of my stepmom's towels that ended up with me when I came back up here last summer, and it therefore made sense to me that it was really bright. She took a picture of me when I stopped to watch some deer cross the river up ahead. From behind. Real nice.

And lastly, because I'd write more but I need to read before my class tonight (although I'd rather drive down and watch the grizzly bears at Old Faithful)...is PROOF that spring is here, even though the weather doesn't seem to think so:

2008-04-19T10:29:00.002-06:00

In most towns, there are respectable places to join your friends on a Friday night for a beer. My town made an attempt at that by creating a smoke-free annex to the most frequented bar in town. It's a good place, usually. Last Friday night, I went with my friends Jessica and Shannon. Also there were some new park employees. I don't want to know at what time of night these guys started drinking. Most of them were normal, but the 3 of us were definitely swarmed. One of them walked right up to Jessica and asked her what country song he could sing to her. Now, I would have said, none of them. Jessica says, "The Thunder Rolls". So the kid starts a full-volume serenade of the song about 3 inches from Jess's face. I don't remember what the next song was, but it was equally as obnoxious. I did find one normal one in the bunch to actually talk to, who wasn't 3 sheets to the wind. It's always a gamble what you'll get when you go to this place. Sometimes, like last night, it was completely chill and men stare at us (because the male to female ratio in this town is ridiculous) but no one really bothers you, except the guy who would not leave me alone until I made a pool shot. I told him I sucked, and I totally missed the shot, and then he left me alone.
I just went to breakfast, and the tourons and Utards are definitely starting to trickle in. A man with 2 little girls comes in and is quite loud and obnoxious, talking for the girls and telling them what they want. You want chocolate milk, or milk? Girls: Milk! Dad: They want CHOCOLATE milk...bring out two BIG glasses. Clear case of dad trying to be cool dad...mom not around. The best part? His t-shirt. It said "I'm not the commitment type." License plate? You guessed it. Utah. Poor kids.
Then he found out some of the roads are closed in the park. "I've got four-wheel drive and five computers and GPS. I can handle the snowy roads." Idiot. Closed means closed. And we're not talking snowy roads. The roads have upwards of 4-5 feet of packed snow on them. The waitress and I just looked at each other and rolled our eyes.

I'm off to see if there's anything interesting going on in the park now that some of the roads are open. I don't envy the gate workers today when they get angry tourists saying, WHAT!? You mean they're not ALL open!? But I want to go to the canyon!! Wahh, waah, waah.

Too bad I can't find my camera. I think I might go snag one from the school just in case.

the little letter to the editor that could

2008-04-14T20:34:00.003-06:00

Back in the fall, when I started working at this school library, one of the first things I noticed was the complete lack of books about Yellowstone and Grand Teton. We live and work and play directly adjacent to Yellowstone National Park. This was completely absurd to me. I scoured the shelves (we have no catalog to search...but that's another issue I'm actively working on) in search of books on the park, and found some VERY old ones, from the 1970s, and 2 or 3 quasi-recent ones. Any random school library in the US would have that much on the first national park, most likely.
So, I found out that our town has an organization called the West Yellowstone Foundation, that exists to provide grant funding to people/groups that benefit the town. I think the school library qualifies. They even told the school that it's rare for any request under $1500 to be turned down. So, I wrote a grant proposal explaining our plight, and in January, they responded with a partial grant of $400 (I asked for $1500, but even that wouldn't really build an entire collection) and a phone number for me to call because they had other ideas. I called the foundation director and he told me that if I wrote letters to the editor in our local papers, he was willing to bet that stuff would literally pour in, and I could use that $400 to buy other extra stuff. He said that if he was wrong, they would fill my entire request, but he told me to try that first.
I wouldn't have thought to do that, honestly. I would think it would look like begging. I asked a few other people, and no one else thought so, so I wrote a letter. I tried to find a link to it online but it's been too long ago that I think it wouldn't still be on the websites. If i think about it tomorrow, I will post it because it is on my work computer.
Anyway, the letter was published in the West Yellowstone News, the Bozeman Daily Chronicle, Gardiner's paper, and the Jackson Hole Daily. Before long, I began to get gobs of phone calls, boxes, etc. One lady who called said, "Honey, I'm just gonna send you a check for $100 because I have no idea what to buy or send and you know what you need. There are two things in this world that are worth investing in: education and gambling!" HAHAHA. Cracked me up.
Others were just happy to help and would call and ask what they could send. I expected people to send me junk and their old books, but I only got one call that sounded like that is what she wanted to send. She didn't understand I was only looking for YNP and GTNP stuff. She offered three boxes of Hardy Boys books. Generous, but no, thanks...
I have been astounded at the generosity of people around here! Especially Jackson Hole folks. Wow. I have gotten $400 and boxes upon boxes of books from JH. The Grand Teton Natural History Association sent what would be at LEAST $1000 worth of books, DVDS, games, etc. Amazing. Over 75 items. Other people send 2-3 books, several publishers have called to ask what we need and then send books, the bookstores in the park all sent some things, the Yellowstone Association sent a sizable box too. I honestly didn't think a simple letter would bring so much help. It's great PR for these businesses and groups, but the individuals who send money and take the time to buy and mail books are totally impressing me. I may have to write in another letter to thank Jackson Hole especially. I know there's a lot of money there, but there's money in Bozeman too, and while we did get some stuff from there and a lot of people called or emailed me, the response from JH has just blown me away. I got another $300 check tonight when I went back to school to get some work done. Crazy!
Well, I need to watch my movie or I will lose the locals' grace period at the rental shop. The temperature today got up to about 55 and it felt AMAZING. Of course, it's going to snow all day tomorrow and only get up to 31, but at least today was absolutely amazing. I rode my bike after work into the park, and only wore a long-sleeved tshirt b/c of the wind. It's wild how fast the huge snowbanks melt when the temp gets up...it's kind of eerie.
P.S. if you ever want some free entertainment, read my town's newspaper online, especially the police reports. Hilarious. The website is: http://westyellowstonenews.com/ and to get to the police reports, click on "Community News" and then "Police Reports." Here's a sampler to give you an idea of life in my town: A vehicle hit an elk. The vehicle was wrecked and the elk was dead. Both were blocking traffic.

A caller wanted to know if anyone had found a pair of beagles. His had jumped a fence, but normally didn't run off if they got out.

The driver of a red Audi in an apartment building parking lot was playing music really loud for a half hour. An officer went to the parking lot and asked the Audi driver to turn the music off. He agreed and then went inside.

few kid stories

2008-04-11T18:00:00.002-06:00

so, i'm at the end of a LONG week but there were a few jewels throughout the week as always...

On Wednesday, i had the kindergarteners in the library, and they are forever incredibly cute. I like having them for 45 minutes at a time...i'm not gifted to work with young kids like that, but man do I enjoy a little bit of time with them. So these two little girls were up to no good on the other side of the library where they were supposed to be sitting in the big cozy chair and reading. I went over and asked them what they were up to, and they said "Oh, we're looking for all the 1999 books." I asked them why, and they said, "They're the best books. They're so old! We like the 1999 books the best and we have to find them all." I found out that they were talking about the date due stamps in the books...if one had a 1999 one, they called it a "1999" book. Weird but cute. 1999 being old was odd to me, but then again, they weren't even born then.

On Thursday I did a poetry activity with my 10th graders where they had to create a "found" poem using only the words in headlines from a day's newspaper. Most of them really enjoyed it but a few were buggers of course, and didn't complete it. It's been a weird week attendance wise and I needed something worthwhile but easy to make up. Anyway, I glanced at one of my girls' poems-in-progress and she had the words "Huge small town wang head" glued down. Unfortunately I didn't see it and tell her what it meant before one of the boys did and he lost all sense of control. Haha. I smirked and asked her if she knew what it meant. She didn't, obviously, and so I whispered in her ear. She turned beet red and ripped it off. I overheard the boy ask her later that day, "Hey, How's your wang head?" So mean but these kids are all friends and she can take it from him and probably had something witty to shoot back. Why "wang" was in the newspaper is beyond me...

I also have a 2nd grader absolutely obsessed with books that have 16 chapters. He will NOT check out a book unless it has exactly 16 chapters: no more, no less. I have gone blue in the face explaining to him that the # of chapters in a book has nothing to do with anything, even showing him extremely thick books with only 12 chapters, but he doesn't care. I ask him if 16 is a special number, and he says no, but he liked the other book he read that had 16 chapters, so he must like all books with 16 chapters. I have given up and let him just go with it because he's so ridiculously stubborn it's amusing. I want to find a 16-chapter book he'd hate, but I don't know if that would even work.

Also in 2nd grade, we're reading "All About Sam," a super cute book written from the point of view of a little boy from birth until about kindergarten. It's really funny and during the beginning, there are lots of parts where he says things like, "I wanted to say "I'm hungry," but instead all that came out was "WAAAAHHH!" So I gave the kids a sheet today with "When I was little, I wanted to say.... but instead what came out was ...." and had them fill in the blanks. Well one boy proudly shares his that said (complete with a picture) "WHen I was little, I wanted to say, "NO MORE BEANS!" But all that came out was "PFFFFFFFFFFF" (That is how he made the sound of a fart.) Ha ha ha ha.

Little kids are so stinkin funny! The PE teacher is doing a dance unit with K-12 and it is just as hilarious to watch 1st graders do the chicken dance as it is to watch 5th graders do the Hustle as it is to watch 10th graders do the Achy Breaky Heart. You'd think the older kids would HATE it but they are eating it up and it's cool to watch them. I hated dancing in elementary school because I was always paired with a short kid named Mitch who wore bowties all the time.

In other news, I have gotten over 150 books donated from foundations and individuals for my Yellowstone Book Collection project. I got $500 of grant money and I'm beginning to wonder what I'll spend it all on! I have gotten at least one copy of nearly every worthwhile book published about Yellowstone and Grand Teton. The generosity is astounding and the books keep coming!

obama mama!

2008-04-07T17:51:00.004-06:00

If I hadn't dropped my good phone in the toilet, I would be able to post fuzzy bad pictures of Barak Obama that I took on Saturday. But I did drop my phone in a relatively clean (i.e. at least not yet soiled by me) toilet at a restaurant in Missoula on Saturday night, so I can't show you any awfully fuzzy pictures. I can let you watch video of some of the speech he made on Saturday morning. It also has scenes from his Butte visit that I would have loved to go to, but alas, I had things to do and people to see in zoo-town, and also no ticket:)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSnh_ZU0dQg
Both of my pastors were sitting right behind the stage, which I thought was funny. I told them it was a conflict of interest...and then the next day in church the one who was preaching totally justified being there. Not that anyone would care but it was awesome to see my pastors at a political rally that wasn't for a conservative Republican. That is why I love and miss that church!

Overall I was definitely impressed by the guy. I already liked him but seeing someone in person makes a difference. I was impressed at how although he's a politician and no politician can be trusted, he put on no fake smile and definitely just let himself look as exhausted as he must be. I was impressed that he came to stinking Montana to begin with, so really, he could have just waved and I would have been happy. No one ever comes to Montana. I think someone said it'd been at least 30 years since a candidate made it out here to speak. To give her credit, Hillary came too, but she had a brunch and charged $250 a plate at the least. Jerk. Obviously she was after a different crowd. SHe did speak for free at the airport but there were no tickets and room for only 2000. I didn't bother and it's a good thing. People were lined up there at 5 a.m. and there were people who didn't make it inside. Barak required tickets but they were free and used a venue that held about 7,000. About 10,000 showed up and the people who couldn't get inside the Adams center were escorted to the football stadium where they broadcast the speech on the megatron thing, and he also came out to shake hands and be seen in person for those folks, which he didn't ahve to do but was a good move. So I think he has my primary vote but we'll see what happens in the next few months. It's been an exciting race and I don't envy those two...it's a battle worth fighting but an exhausting one.

I didn't have a ticket to see Barak when I got to Missoula, and only heard about it when I turned on the radio after skiing at Discovery on Thursday. At that point, they were completely gone and had been since about 10 a.m. that morning, and I think they became available at around 8 a.m. How that many people found out and acted that fast is beyond me, but it's pretty cool! So when I heard he was coming, I decided that I was somehow going to go hear him, which meant that I needed to find a ticket. I am a determined and resourceful type of person, so I first contacted people who might have gotten extras or know where they might be. I then found out that the tickets had the person's name on them, so giving one away or selling one would be more difficult than I once thought. But I was not thwarted. I went to dinner with my friend Jen on Friday night and made it my goal and ambition to get a ticket somehow. Our first stop, the new James bar, proved unsuccessful. Not enough mingling and conversation opportunities. So I enjoyed my salad and we walked over to the Badlander, where live music was purported to be. We sat on some comfortable chairs in a corner and found out that said band was not playing, but another would be arriving in its place. This was disappointing but fine. Before long, a group of people sat at a table and couch across from us. One man, Will, struck up a conversation with Jen and I noticed he had a wedding ring but on his right hand. Real stealth there, dude. (I was later a jerk and called him on it, only to find out he was separated from his wife but didn't want to take it off quite yet...wow...i'm an ass!) So anyway, when Jen went to the restroom he chatted with me and I resourcefully entered the next day's Barak happenings into the conversation. Oh! He says, we have VIP tickets and I can't wait. Turns out his friend works for the state and was able to attain up-close seats. Bingo. Aw, I say, I am DYING to go see him speak. Do you have any more? Actually, he says, I had made it my mission to give away my regular seat ticket to a girl tonight, but my self-imposed deadline was 11 p.m. It is now 11:20 p.m. so you're about 20 minutes too late. Damn, I said, do you still have it? He says, I do, but it's over in my hotel room. Ah, I said, well, your hotel room is not somewhere I will go. He said, well, I also just called my dad and promised it to him, so it's gone. However, my friend Matt there should still have his extra ticket. Matt, hmm? I say...please introduce me. Matt, thankfully, was a quite handsome fellow whose ticket I would have been happy to snag. Will assured me he would "work on it," and I waited not so patiently.

Jen rolled her eyes and shook her head. A few minutes later I inquired as to the status of the deal, and he says, I think it's a go. So I went over to introduce myself to Matt and asked if he would be wiling to give up his ticket. The ticket had his name on it, and I wasn't sure I could pass for "Matt," but alas, it was better than nothing and worth a try. I tried to charm my way into getting a VIP ticket since those did not have names on them, but I was not successful and not willing to do any unholy things to get it. It was an exciting proposition to hear Obama speak, but not THAT exciting, good Lord. The Matt fellow was not even going to sell me the ticket because he thought it was immoral to sell something he got for free. I agreed wholeheartedly. The only catch was that the ticket was at his house. I was also not going to compromise my safety and go to his house to get it that night. He then offered for me to come get it early in the morning because he was going to be up watching some British soccer game at 5 a.m. and cooking breakfast. Deal, I said, and memorized the address. I was skeptical that it would work but no one seemed to think tehy'd hold up a 7000+ person line to check everyone's ID. I hoped they were right. I got up early and went to the house around 7 a.m., ate breakfast and watched a British soccer team lose a match with these people who probably thought I was just a freeloader but whatever. Really nice folks...but it was definitely awkward to be at a stranger's house at 7 a.m. on a Saturday eating breakfast and watching soccer. So I got the ticket and headed off to get in line...and holy word what a line it was. I should have brought my real camera to document this, but I didn't think they'd be allowed inside (they were...). Because of where I parked I had to walk the entire length of the line to get to the end. It was about 34 out and starting to snow. Bit chilly. I found the end and waited in line next to two women in their 60s who were an absolute riot. They were cracking jokes left and right. Definitely old hippies and yellow dog democrats. They were way fun. As I waited in the snaking line I enjoyed the people watching and recognized several friends and acquaintances from years past. As I had walked by the entrance when I arrived, they hadn't begun to let people in yet, so I couldn't tell if they were checking IDs. The few people I asked didn't know, so I waited in line anyway, hoping. They opened doors at 8 a.m. and by the time I got near the front, the line behind me had at least doubled in length. If you know the area, it snaked beside the music building, over by the business building twice, snaked back and forth in the road by the theater, and then headed down alongside the radio building to the Adams center entrance. The end eventually reached all the way down 6th street before it touched campus. Crazy tons of people. I loved the NYC-type merchandise "tables" selling buttons and T-shirts. I decided I needed a good ugly blue Obama 08 Tshirt so I bought one, and a button. I think these guys follow the campaign around because they were all black and had New England accents...and we're pretty monochromatic around these parts. I was in line until about 9:30 when I reached the doors. Ahead of me I could see they were looking at tickets but not checking IDs, so I felt relieved. I made it in with my "Matt" ticket and no one said anything. Security was fairly tight but not as bad as I thought it would be. It is Montana, after all. I got inside and was about to sit up in the bleachers behind the stage when I saw my friend Jacob next to an empty seat in a much better spot off to the side. I waved to him, told the guard I had a seat, and he let me up to sit there. It was nice to run into a friend so I didn't have to sit alone.
The energy in the place was insane, and I've definitely never seen it that full! He began speaking on time and spoke for an hour. It was his first trip to Montana and he was enamored as he should have been. I am still shocked that either one of those candidates stopped in Montana, and in Missoula and Butte of all places. Billings, our largest city, usually gets the most attention. It was a great day to be a part of and I'm glad I went through the trouble and lack of sleep to get in. After he spoke, he kissed babies and shook hands. I was up off the ground a bit so I was too far away to shake his hand, but I was definitely close enough for my satisfaction. I even saw a woman pass her baby over the heads of strangers so that Obama could kiss it. So crazy. I would not crowd-surf my baby so it could touch a politician, even a charismatic one.
So that's my story, minus the paragraphs and quotation marks it desperately needs, but I am going on 4 hrs of sleep and a 4.5 hr drive last night, so dont' expect much after a full day of work. I have decided that I should get at least as many hours of sleep as I have to drive the next day. I nearly killed a few bison and probably myself just before I got to town around 1 a.m. The goobers were sleeping in the road. Typical. And of course, half a mile later there was a sign: BISON ON ROAD. Thanks guys.
The rest of my spring break was relaxing and fun. Jackson Hole (see previous post) was last weekend, I rested Monday, skiied Moonlight Tuesday and Wednesday, drove to Butte Wed night, skiied Disco Thursday, drove to Missoula Thursday night, ate sushi with Meghan, relaxed and visited with folks on Friday, went out Friday night, saw Obama, visited with Erica, rode horses, went to a bday dinner for Liz Saturday, church and more visiting Sunday (and replacing my non-functional wet phone...) and then the dreaded long drive back in the dark and snow.
9 more weeks of school and then freedom! Oh wait, I am working all summer. So, 9 more weeks of school and then work, just with no kids. I'm not sure which I prefer. No kids is less demanding somewhat but it is also pretty boring. You can't beat a 1st grade today...I told them that today I was especially looking for kids who could keep their voice at a "level 1" or lower, so a notoriously loud one managed to both yell and whisper at the same time. Or the high school girl who rushes in as I'm barely taking off my coat and demands the next book in a series because she finished the first one last Tuesday and has been going crazy. Or the other high school girl who got a huge kick out of sneaking up on me and making me scream today.
Tomorrow night is the school board meeting where I will propose my work for this summer, so wish me luck!
By the way, if you don't listen to The New Pornographers, you should, because they are way fun and they kept me awake between Ennis and West Yellowstone last night.

tomorrow has enough (snow) of its own

2008-03-31T23:31:00.003-06:00

Whenever I have time to reflect on where life has taken me lately, I surprise myself a bit. I am just 26 and fully free to live the type of life i'm leading, but sometimes I wonder if all this fun and somewhat carefree lifestyle I live is going to ever catch up with me and cause me to crash. Like most of my friends (who already are...) I figured I'd at least be married by now, maybe even with a kid on the way. But I'm not, and instead of feeling lonely and sad and "on the prowl," I'm completely content.
I feel like I am two people sometimes. I am a teacher and librarian, an upstanding member of society more or less, (in this town it doesn't take much...), a daughter and a sister and a friend. Then there is the side of me that has developed into a bigger part of me since I have moved out west. It's a side of me that I like more than the more naive, cautious person I was in years past. Granted, to most, I am still very much a "good girl" and do nothing deserving chastisement at all. But yet, my priorities have changed quite a bit even since college, so much so that I wonder if I should feel guilty. Yet I don't...I'm happy and enjoying life. I just read in a book I'm reading for a book club I'm starting with whichever high school kids I can tempt, "I told myself to stop rationing pleasure as if it were a paycheck. It was time to cut loose and have fun, and not worry about tomorrow" ( Hole in my Life by Jack Gantos...yep, same guy who wrote Joey Pigza. It's his memoir.). I read that and had a moment of clarity where I realized I do sometimes "ration" pleasure like I do my measly teacher paychecks. Why do I think twice when something fun and pleasurable comes my way? Is it because it was drilled into me as a kid and a teenager and a college student that "all sin is fun for a season"? Did that somehow translate in my mind that all pleasure is sinful unless it's some sort of emotional reaction to something marketed as "Christian"? I think it may have, and now as an adult, I have a hard time reconciling the two. What is harmful and pleasurable? What is helpful and pleasurable? What is benign and pleasurable? Most of the things I choose to do fall somewhere in between those three choices. Of course not everything I do is benign or helpful. Some of the things I've chosen to do have caused me tears or have cause soemone else hurt or harm. But overall, when it's all averaged out, I am happier and find pleasure more often than I used to because I no longer live in fear of guilt or sin. Instead of living to avoid sin and constantly feeling "Is this what a Christian would do?" I live in search of good, fun, and pleasure.
What's strange is that this has come almost entirely separate from anything associated with God or church. That isn't to say I don't credit God with this freedom, because I don't know who else to credit. I've had my doubts over the years and recently even read a book called "God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything" and it was extremely challenging to read it, but I still believe, even though I am not sure I would if I hadn't been raised to...and of course that makes me question the integrity of my belief, but since it has only brought me good, hope, and love...I choose not to abandon it. Doubt is healthy, I think. I never want to attend a church that teaches otherwise. Granted, I don't think doubt is enjoyable or desirable, but healthy, as arguments are healthy to marriages.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but I just had a pre-bedtime moment while reading that I wanted to write about for awhile. I don't have time for thinking like this while I'm teaching, because my brain is filled with salary negotiations, allergies to books, pregnant students, misbehaving 10th grade boys, rebellious yearbook editors, financial constraints, curriculum issues, colleagues, and more. I'm thankful for a job that keeps me on my toes, but that is why teaching absolutely requires breaks more often than the rest of the working world. I absolutely FUME when anyone says that teachers get too much vacation. Like hell we do. I double dog dare any of those people to be a teacher for one week with all the requirements laid on us, and then say that with a straight face. In fact, the very book I'm reading is not a book I chose, but rather a book I am reading for a book club I'm running. Granted, this is an "extra" thing I picked up because I applied for a grant (Thanks, Oprah!) but I did it because I believe it's incredibly important. Also, b/c of the grant I get to give brand new copies of these books away, and that is just awesome. Anyway, all that is to say that this sort of thinking seldom takes place on a typical Monday night. But all I have to do tomorrow is wake up around 8, eat some breakfast and drive 40 miles through beautiful, still very snow-covered country, and ski my heart out all day. That is one hobby I am addicted to and am glad that my cautiousness has more or less gone byt eh wayside. You can't be an overly cautious skiier or you'd be bored fast. To counteract my genetically inscribed cautiousness, I did purchase a good helmet, which will make my mommy proud and also helps me to ski harder w/out the fear of head trauma. Most skiiers wear helmets these days, which is a good thing.
But anyway...do you think that pleasure-seeking catches up to you? It isn't that I don't also seek "Good" at the same time. I am just trying to squeeze every bit of pleasure from life that I can, which in my case means not worrying about tomorrow beyond my ever-tiny bank account, because that would be just plain irresponsible...which I don't think I am. I do what needs to be done and then I try to have fun. I just wonder where that twinge of guilt comes in. Is it because I don't spend all my "free" time volunteering at church anymore? Is it because I'll choose to enjoy a powder day on the mountain instead of going to church? Is it because somehow pleasure = sin is embedded in my psyche? I know that it is when it comes to anything at all sexual. Sometimes when I tell my unchurched friends (which, by the way, is nearly all of them out here besides the Mormons who don't really socialize with anyone else...sound like anything you know?) the stories of the "sex ed" i received in church growing up, they drop their mouths like codfish. All the well-intended "DONT HAVE SEX TILL YOU'RE MARRIED" rhetoric went way, way, way too far in a lot of cases. For most of us, and I usually include myself in this category, we've found a middle ground and are happy. For others I know, they went off the deep end immediately and eschewed it all. (ooh! eschewed! i haven't used that in awhile!) I think I signed at least 6 "True Love Waits" cards, one for each year I spent in youth group, but probably more. I attended rallies where married couples cried and spoke about how awful their wedding night was because the "spirits of their past sex partners haunted their honeymoon night." I'm sorry, but that is complete bullshit. Why did the people who planned these things use nothing but fear tactics to get us to do anything!? Did they completely discount teenagers' ability to make wise decisions? I work with high school kids now every day in a secular environment, and while yes, I sometimes question their common sense or brain function entirely, I do know that they are capable of learning truth when it comes to sex. My school-based sex ed was quite good. It was to the point, honest, and scary, but only when they showed us pictures of untreated STDs. Gross. Church sex ed was scary only because it taught us that no one wants "damaged goods" and that your sex life when you're married will be terrible if you don't wait. Thinking back, I wonder how the kids who'd already had sex felt when they heard speeches like that. Past redemption? Probably. Too bad that was always a literal footnote at the end of those programs. "Oh, and by the way, if you have already sinned in this area of your life, please come talk to one of us and we'll see if you can be cleansed from this wrongdoing. You are dismissed, please go find your youth minister and have a great sex-free week!"
Jerks.
Don't get me wrong. I think the concept of purity and waiting for marriage are good concepts, but the way they were presented to me as a kid makes me wonder what they were thinking...or not thinking. Seriously folks, spend a month hanging out with unchurched teenagers and see if anything you say, think, read, sing, etc. on a daily basis has ANYTHING to do with what most of them face. I think this break in my life from churchiness has only helped me be more in touch with what the rest of the world thinks.
Even this past weekend as I went to Jackson Hole to ski and watch the snowmobile hill climbs, and we parked next to a church that had a big banner out front reading, "FBC Monday Nights ON FIRE!!!" I cringed, realizing that the other 4 people with me would never in a million years be interested in showing up for something like that. Why would they? Most of them have strong networks of friends and family. They're good people, they love and live as best as they know how. Would a church "young adult program" be of any worth to them? Probably not. Is even my presence, as they know I'm a Christian, making any difference? I'm not sure. I am definitely not friends with them just so I can interject random conversations with evangelism. I'm hardly different from them at all. Some would say I'm not fulfilling the great commission by not overtly sharing the gospel with anyone i come into contact with. But that does not feel sinful to me, it feels fake and wrong. Maybe my doubts on all that are still too much to deal with, and that's a blog for another day, but I'm pretty sure I'm not doing anything to be ashamed of.
It is now 12:10 and writing is starting to bleed into precious skiing time for tomorrow, since a good day of skiing depends heavily on a good night's rest. My itinerary for the rest of spring break is as chill as follows:
Tuesday: Ski (@ Moonlight)
Wednesday: Rest, clean house, drive to Butte
Thursday: Ski (@ Disco) and drive to Missoula
Thursday-Sun: Pretend I live in Missoula again, eat sushi, drink scotch, celebrate a friend's birthday, ride horses, dread Monday
Monday: back to work and the worries listed above.

and baby makes 4

2008-03-24T17:05:00.003-06:00

Before today, I already thought our school had an abnormal number of pregnancies. We have about 63 students in high school, and we had 3 girls get pregnant this school year. Today another one of my students told me she was pregnant. That makes 4. And all of these girls have been my students. I must be cursed! I don't teach all the high school kids, only about 20 of them directly. One has had a miscarriage and the other 2 are due really soon. What kills me is that all of them are happy about it! I know why, and it breaks my heart. These girls come from pretty dysfunctional families and it makes sense to want a baby because a baby will love its mother. It also gives them something to love. Only one of the 4 is living with the father of the baby. One doesn't really know who the father is.
I spoke with my principal today and although he agrees we need better education and access to protection an dbirth control...I believe that some of these girls do it on purpose or at least don't want to prevent it. On one hand, what teenager will go to a store to buy condoms or go to the clinic to get birth control when they are going to know everyone? There are no secrets for these kids.
I was trying so hard to get this girl to go to college or trade school even though her dad was discouraging her from doing so (AH!!). Mostly she needs to get out of this town for a bit. Her dad wants her to work for him, which is fine, but she needs to see a little bit of the world outside of this town first...and this pregnancy is exactly why. It breaks my heart. She is going to keep it. She is right now not living with her dad because their relationship is so awful that she moved out when she turned 18. So she's living with a reputable adult and her husband. But with the baby coming and that couple moving, she'll have to move back in w/ her dad which is not going to be pretty. Right now her dad is excited about the baby. I hope it lasts. I honestly hope that I'm completely wrong and this will all work out. This girl has had a pretty awful life so far and it kills me to see this happen to her.

In other news, I got to go to Missoula for the weekend and I almost shouldn't go up there because I always realize how terribly I miss it! I am going back up in 2 weekends at the end of my spring break. This weekend was a super quick trip because I skiied at Discovery on Saturday after staying at my friend's cabin on Georgetown Lake. (Definitely still frozen right now though!)I definitely want to ski there again. I did pretty well and I'm getting to where I can ski more things and not be afraid that I'll lose control if I go fast. I bought a helmet which helps me gain a little more nerve. A couple people I was skiing with talked me into trying a black diamond that had moguls which scared me, but I got down it faster than I thought I would. I guess all the skiing I've done this winter has paid off. I'm glad there's still a ton of snow on the hills so the ski season should go beyond these next couple weekends. I have 3 more free days to use up at Moonlight Basin so I'll probably be skiing a good bit over break. No complaints there! I was going to drive down to see my dad and stepmom in CO but it doesn't look like they'll be around, so I'll hang nearby here and relax. It bugs me that so many families at my school are wealthy and they take cruises and trips to Mexico and the Bahamas, and the teachers who educate their kids can't afford to leave the state! Oh well.
Speaking of pay, it's interesting to watch the negotiations between the school board and our union. I make sure I attend all the meetings so I know what's going on and I don't have to depend on someone else's interpretation. The school board wants to pay us more but there's only so much in the budget and we can't really change that too much. The board keeps saying that they don't want to hurt our kids' education by cutting programs, which I understand, but if they understood how important it is to retain teachers so that our kids aren't getting brand new teachers every year...they might think about cutting jr. high sports, for example. Programs are great but when teachers leave every year because they can't afford to live there...some things are just more important! No one will get rid of music or art or Spanish, but some of these extra things could go if they actually helped the budget.
Anyway, life here is interesting as usual. I've pretty much got my sights set on spring break and not much else. I have no tolerance this week for kids, and as a result my yearbook/newspaper walked out of the room today after I basically told him he wasn't doing his job. He's not. He doesn't take pictures or take initiative to do anything. I'm an advisor, not an editor. If he doesn't step up soon the book won't get done. These kids are so used to having people spoon feed them. I won't do it and I meet a lot of resistance, and not just from the kids! Next year will hopefully be better because they will be a little more ready for the way I do things instead of constantly comparing me to the woman before me. That gets OLD.
I weeded part of the fiction section today and found a book called "Bargain Bride." It was a young adult novel from the 1950s and I couldn't figure out how that was appropriate back then. It looked innocent enough but the title made me chuckle. I did find some cool old versions of David Copperfield and Mansfield Park. They're 1st editions but they are so old, beat-up and marked with library stamps and labels that they aren't worth anything except "wow, that's neat".
Spring has come everywhere except my town. There is still snow and more falling right now. My window is still covered with snow and I still have to stomp through it to get to work. I love all the snow but i have decided I am OK if it starts to melt. I didn't want it to ever go away, but I am ready to be able to ride my bike and not have to change shoes all the time.

En route

2008-03-06T21:20:00.002-07:00

Quick travel vignette from today....
I am in Tallahassee for a short short stint before heading to Gainesville for the weekend for my little sister's wedding. I am now officially excited about it.... due to some self-inflicted junk earlier on, I was once dreading it. I'm not at all now. Anyway...traveling is always interesting, and I love the people watching in airports. One guy I saw today was a textbook complete nerd, down to the "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" ringtone on his phone. I mean...short shorts, man boobs visible through a thin DisneyLand t-shirt, glasses, tall socks with sneakers...you get it. He was just funny. And he had a wife who looked completely normal. Go figure.

But the best part of my day came towards the end, when I was boarding the little CRJ-700 from Charlotte to Tallahassee...leg 3 of a long day of flights. As I was walking down the aisle to seat 8A, I hear a man's voice say, "God I hope I get to sit next to you!" and I look around and realize he is staring directly at me. Everyone in the 10-foot vicinity turns and stares. I ignore him and keep going, making an incredulous face at the lady in front of me, who reads me in the way that only women can (even strangers!) and we both muffle laughter.
I mean, did he mean to say that outloud, and SO loud? Was he drunk? I have gotten more used to men hitting on me randomly because of the small town where I live. Out of 800 residents of my town, maybe 15, probably less, are single women. Of those even, not many are exactly desirable. As one rather bigoted man put it, "They're all fat and Mormon." I have gotten good at ignoring these passes, and although one might think they would build my confidence, they really don't. They instead build my need to make sure I have strong and capable male friends to conveniently knee one of these wooers if need be.
Many of you may have heard this story, but the realization that this town was different occurred to me the first weekend I went to the bar with a few other teachers one Saturday.
I was sitting on a high bar chair at a table with a few other people. I had my legs crossed. A man walks up with a folded up cigarette wrapper and sticks it between my thighs. Upper...thighs. I was too shocked to do the appropriate smack across the face, so I probably blushed bright red while my friends, who saw what happened, yelled at him. Did he really think that was going to get him anywhere? Do I look like the kind of person who would respond well to that direct of a hit? Good gracious!! His friend later apologized profusely on his behalf, saying that he was the most disrespectful ass he'd ever known. I was pretty sure the friend played the "ass" role to get his friend an "in" with us as the sweet, apologetic sort. Either way, no one got any attention from me that night. Shudder.
There are more stories, but this is a family show folks, so I'll leave it at that.
Yay for Tallahassee, however short the visit, and yay for yummy Cuban food and Chickfila and Sonny's and blooming everything. My brain is overloaded with colors after being accustomed to so much white.

teacher/librarian/public relations specialist...that's me.

2008-03-01T12:20:00.003-07:00

Perhaps my first degree should have been in political science or public relations instead of English. I feel that as a teacher and librarian I do more PR work than anything else. Thankfully I am OK at it and can diffuse situations pretty fast...like yesterday.
I am in the middle of a huge weeding operation in our school library, and as expected, it has drawn concerns from the staff, especially the older members. On top of that, our union is in the middle of salary negotiations (THANK GOD) and it's causing rifts between the younger (read: in the hole every month) and older (read: making $60,000 and wanting more before they retire) teachers. It's stressful and bothersome but will hopefully be settled soon. It's also mid to late winter, and it will remain winter here for a while longer. For most of us, even if we enjoy the winter, it starts to feel a little heavy and grumpiness runs rampant.
Yesterday morning, I was confronted by both of my administrators who told me a teacher had approached them about me weeding books that were valuable. My main and only issue with this was that the teacher did not come straight to me first. I was hurt that she went behind my back and felt that she had "tattled" on me, when the admin is 100% aware of what I'm doing. She thought she had found books that were of high monetary value. Truth is, once a book is processed for library use, that value is almost completely erased. She had started collecting those books and then taking them back to her room to protect them. Gee, thanks for trusting that I was going to make sure there wasn't anything of value (monetary or sentimental) before I actually got rid of anything. Thanks for realizing that I am doing my job the best way I know how, and I had to do this portion quickly because I have to prepare for automating this summer. And thanks for suddenly showing an interest in a library you haven't used all year (probably because it's unusable). So, thankfully I have understanding administrators who heard me out and know that this teacher should have confronted me.
I went to that teacher to tell her I wish she had come to me because she misunderstood what I was doing. I was at an all-day high school assembly the day she was in there, and she had no way of asking me what was going on. She jumped to conclusions because of emotional attachment to these books and acted on that. I felt bad that she thought I was getting rid of these books--some are of value to our local collection, signed by the author, etc. I wasn't. I just had to get an accurate count for what would actually be automated. If anything, those old books will be separated as a special collection. Personally, if some of them ARE of financial value and not of significant local value, I want that money to buy NEW books, not keep books on teh shelves that haven't been checked out for 20 years!! We're fine now and she apologized for not coming to me first, and explained that her emotional attachment to these books took over. My question is still...if she's so attached to these books, why doesn't she have them herself? Why doesn't she ever USE them? I don't get keeping things just to have them, at least in a school library.
Frustrating to say the least. At least it was on a Friday and my minor breakdown from stress related to this confrontation plus the fact that I'm working my ass off in there meant that I could go play some Rock Star and indulge in a little 2 Below.
I was so ready to go skiing this morning, needing the feeling of flying down a mountainside and being worry-free for a few hours. I woke up, got dressed, and called the ski report. "Headwaters and Lone Tree lifts have been closed due to high winds." Stink. Not good...and the ever-relevant Clash song came to mind...should I stay or should I go now? I opted to stay as I stepped outside and saw some nice fat flakes coming down, realizing that the mountain would be pretty miserable today but tomorrow will probably be a decent powder day. Here's hoping. So I went to breakfast to lift my spirits and it didn't work. I still want to be skiing. Stupid wind.
So I think now I will at least go to the ski shop and get my x-c skiis waxed and maybe head back into the trees where the wind isn't so harsh. Tomorrow will be my day for flying.
I don't want to leave this glorious snow behind, but I am looking forward to seeing all my family and many of my friends this weekend down in FL. It's a good time of year to go...no tourists and plenty of sunshine and cool nights.
And for the rest of my day...I will keep weeding and hope that we can come to some kind of middle ground as far as these old books go. My thought is that if they aren't useable by our kids, they are useless to have in the library. If someone else wants to create a mini book museum, that's fine, but I am not a curator, I am a librarian and a teacher. I barely have time to do my basic job, much less create what they're asking me to create.

(snow)cabulary

2008-02-08T18:04:00.000-07:00

So, we found out today that we will not have to make up the snow day since we have enough instructional hours logged. I was happy about that because I did not want anyone taking away my President's Day weekend. I was looking forward to time to get stuff done. This whole snow thing is quite a phenomenon. Ever since that big storm that closed school (and the last time was 1989, I found out, due to -60 temps because it was unsafe for the kids to walk to school) it's been snowing nonstop. Yesterday, it snowed and the wind blew pretty good. Today it's just been blowing and blowing. I love the sound of the howling wind and watching the snow drift and swirl in midair, but it's a pain in the neck. Wind makes everything annoying. I can't ski in the wind unless I attach heat packs all over myself, or create some kind of bubble around me so I can ski but the wind doesn't hit me. It can be super-cold and I'll ski, as long as it isn't windy.
So when you live somewhere where the average snowfall is about 200 inches, and we're at 190 and it's still coming....you have to deal with all the snow. We can't just shovel here, either. Even if you just have the average-sized driveway, you need this awesome contraption called a snow-blower. This is not like a leaf blower. It churns up the snow with rotating discs and scoopy things, and then shoots it out the top of a tall snorkel and piles it elsewhere. These things are awesome. If you're like me though, and you rent, your landlord takes care of it. Mine is not particularly fond of plowing, or at least it seems that way, because he likes to wait awhile before he saunters over and hops in the Bobcat to remove the snow. It's a good 50 or so yards from my parking spot, where I can plug in my car, to the alleyway that the city plows. I've been stuck more than once trying to get out of my own "driveway" area. Having a Subaru ups my chances, but more than once I've had to call a friend to tug me out.
So last week, they did what they call "carving" the snow. When so much falls that the snow banks ont he sides of the roads from the plows start to take over the road, they have to come by with this big scary machine that cuts the snow banks at a 90 degree angle to the road so that we have a road again. If I were the snow bank, I would be terrified of this thing. It's scary. But it is also wonderful, because now we have nice, straight walls of snow instead of humps, and there's a lot more room to walk and drive.
We also have to shovel our roofs around here. Snow builds up on the roof and if it doesn't slide on its own, or if you have a flattish roof, you have to get up on top and shovel or push it off. This is as unsafe as it sounds. Often, the bottom layer of snow will melt and freeze because of the heat rising form inside the building. Too much snow on a roof has obvious issues because it settles and becomes extremely thick and heavy. It does insulate well, but if a bunch of it piles up then your vents and other pipes coming out of the roof can become buried. Next time you're in a snowy place, notice how high off the roofs the pipes are. Here the building code must be at least 15 inches or something, because they stick way up. It's a good thing. The school asked some of us to help either blow snow or shovel snow off the roof there, but the principal didn't want to risk us getting hurt. Yeah, since if we fell, we'd fall into powder, but whatever. I just wanted the extra money.
I can see how the snow would get old after being here a long time, but I can also see how you'd just get used to it. I mean, I see on the news all these "crazy winter storms" in the midwest, and yeah, they're bad, but it gets back up toe 35-40 degrees in a week and it's all gone. Not here. Once it starts falling, it doesn't melt until at least April. It's just solid white everywhere. I can officially not see out of any of my windows.

I signed up to be a volunteer firefighter awhile ago, but just began going to training since I figured out that I couldn't get a job here in the winter to make extra money. I desperately need to, but there simply aren't jobs to be found that would be worth my while. I want to waitress a couple nights a week, but it's just not busy enough. It will be soon. I've been to two trainings so far, and I really enjoy it. The people who go are super nice, and it's interesting to learn something different for a change. I like the mental switch to fire, safety, medical emergencies, etc. instead of thinking about teaching and that blasted mess of a library. It's like going to class, but it's free. The first week we went through a couple of fire simulations with this software they have, going through what to do and what not to do. Then we watched some crazy fire videos online that were great entertainment. This week we talked about cold/heat emergencies...especially cold around here, obviously. Some doofus from South Dakota went out on a snowmobile in the backcountry with barely enough clothing on for the low temps, got hit and run over by another snowmobiler who didn't see him, and got wet and buried up to his chest in snow. He was in shock and just stood there. He was hypothermic and barely made it, but thankfully they were only about a mile from the main road.
Most of what I'll be doing once I'm sufficiently trained is to be on site at different events, like ski races or snowmobile expos, fairs, stuff like that, so that I can respond quickly and call in backup right away...you know, like the people on site at football games and stuff. I'll also probably be on call a lot during fire season and I really hope I will get to help fight some of the forest fires. House fires kind of scare me, because of the whole "things falling on your head" part and "things blowing up" part, but forest fires are pretty cool. We get a lot of them around here. Another cool thing we did was last night they showed us how to use a thermal imager, which looks like a fancy periscope. You aim the camera end at someone and look at the screen, and you see their thermal image. It's used to find people in smoky or dark places when you can't see. I thought it was pretty neat. We held up a lighter flame to it, which was awesome. I'm easily amused, I suppose.

My job life has been insane lately. I find myself working till 6 or later, trying to get a handle on this library and researching different automation companies. I've narrowed it down to 2, and am just working on the specifics and costs of the one that appears to be cheaper and offers me a lot of benefits in terms of collaboration state-wide. It's a shared state catalog system that is hosted at a server in Helena, which makes our tech lady happy. The other company is Follett, which gets rave reviews and is a beautiful program, but a little more pricey over time and doesn't allow me the benefit of instant connection with most of Montana's other libraries. My main job right now is to "weed" the nonfiction section. From my best estimate, it hasn't been weeded in at least 20 or 30 years. The school moved buildings in 1992, but according to other staff, the library was simply boxed up as-is and moved over. The general attitude has always been, DON'T THROW ANYTHING AWAY. That's what they tol dme when If irst got there. Then I visited my superintendent with books about the Soviet Union, a book called "Two Little Savages" about Native Americans, and a couple of books about states published in 1965. He began to understand that I was not going to throw away useful items, and gave me the go-ahead. It takes a lot of time but it's also fun to go through the old stuff. A few of my high schoolers have been helping me. One girl gave me the idea to keep a few of the old covers that have neat designs and make them into journals (bind in blank pages) and give them away or sell them. One of my boys got ahold of an etiquette book from 1942 and has had a heyday reading "How to Light a Lady's Cigarette" and other such rules. I'm only about 1/8 of the way done and have put in about 10 hours so far. It's so necessary to do this because 1. the information in most of these books is bad and outdated, and 2. the fewer books I have when I go to automate, the less time it will take me. My school is crazy when they say I can do it in a summer. The cataloging alone is going to take at least a year. I'll be lucky if I get the picture books and young adult fiction done this summer.
Meanwhile, I am teaching 4 different high school courses and 7 weekly elementary classes. I have exactly 4.5 hours of "true" library time each week, and most of that gets eaten up planning for all the other classes I have to teach. I'm not doing this again next year. Somehow this does not match up with my contract for necessary planning time, much less time to actually run the library. And they wonder why it's in the shape it's in? It's extremely stressful for me to keep up this schedule even though I do love my job. What's even harder is on payday when I remember that oh yeah, I won't make it through this month, either!
I hope our school gets the hint this year when we open up negotiations for salary increases. I know the school board and our administration wants to give us raises, because the cost of living here is out of control. They also need to realize we could go a few miles south and work in Wyoming for at least twice as much. I would make $50,000 there. But I love living here. It feels isolated at times, and it is, but it's such a tight knit community both at the school and in the town as a whole. I want to stay here for awhile...to stay somewhere for awhile, for once. I hate seeing 1 year here, 1 year there on my resume. But ever since I moved to Montana, that's been the story. It's hard to make it here, and sometimes an awesome place to live isn't so awesome when you can't afford rent or student loan bills.
And now I really want to get an MLIS since I have to get about 24 credits towards it anyway to get my school library endorsement. There's a great scholarship for that, but there's no funding until 2010, which is too late for me since I only have 3 years to finish my endorsement coursework....coursework I can't afford at $600 a class. I'm working on writing a grant to try to offset most of that cost to tide me over until I can (hopefully) get a scholarship to get my MLIS. It's a dream, at least.
This is a long blog, but life has been busy lately, and there's even more going on that I haven't mentioned and won't for now. I just seem to attract conflict and stress even though I try very hard not to.

first snow day in ?? years

2008-01-28T14:07:00.001-07:00

School was cancelled today in my town for the first time in at least 19 years. That's the highest number i've heard, besides estimates of "never." They pride themselves here on being "tough" and never cancelling anything. Plus, when there's already like 5 feet of snow on the ground, what's a blizzard? But the problem is you can't hold school when 1/2 the teachers and students can't get there b/c of road closures, drifts, and stuck semis on the road. I was tromping out to see if my car would move when I got the call. It was a happy moment. We'll probably have to make it up sometime because I don't think Montana builds snow days into the schedule, but whatever, it was awful nice to get to climb back into bed for a couple hours and then brave the wind to go out to breakfast. My car, as it turns out, is staying put until my landlord decides to plow the driveway area. Snow has officially blocked all sunlight from one of my windows and it's working on the other ones. It's quite a mess out there, and I hear this is a bad storm compared to the mild winters they've had here lately. And mild to them is likely not mild to you unless you live in Alaska. It's common to have -30 temps here and snowfall is ridiculous. I hear the 20-year average fall is about 60 inches in town, and we've surpassed that already this year. I love all the snow personally, but the wind is another story. It makes for a 20-degree day like today feel miserable. (For those of you who dno't live in a cold place, 20 is a nice winter temp, esp if it's sunny). It's dry and cold here, even when it snows, and the snow is powdery, unlike the Slurpee-like consistency of the New England and some Midwestern stuff. It's fun to drive on...if you have a Subaru, and I do, thanks to my amazing parents.
Overall i like life here. It's isolated, sort of, except when Minnesotans invade your town on snowmobiles and make lots of noise and are generally rude and obnoxious. No offense to you normal, extremely nice Minnesotans..these are the people you can't stand, too. Many of these people are also from Southern Idaho, and they are Mormon in every aspect except that Mormons are usually incredibly nice, law-abiding people who don't drink caffeine or alcohol, and these people can definitely throw back the drinks and then drive their 2-strokes up and down my driveway. I'm glad these people come because w/out them we'd ahve no economy, but it's like like loving a parasite.

2007-12-13T22:45:00.000-07:00

I think I am beginning to understand what cabin fever is. I live in a cabin. It's cold outside. I want to be outside, but the warmth of this cabin makes me want to stay right here where it's comfortable. My cat Newton is currently suffering from it in a bad way. When I came home from work today, he was running laps around the cabin, jumping on the top of my fridge and bookshelf, knocking things over, and generally having "that look" in his eye. He has also taken to licking me and drinking out of the bathtub. Odd behavior...that I can only attribute to cabin fever, the feline version.
I do not enjoy hurting people at all. In fact, usually, if I didn't think that one form of hurting was worse than another, I would probably sacrifice my own feelings and preferences for the sake of the other person's happiness. Except I'm horrible at acting. If I don't feel 100% about something, I can't fake it. it's obvious, and the other person inevitably asks me what's wrong, even if the other person doesn't really want to know what's wrong because he is guessing that it's not going to be an answer he wants to hear.
Part of my main problem in general is that I can't imagine why someone would want to be so smitten with me to begin with. I consider myself mildly confident...I love my job, I do the best I can, I don't think I'm ugly but I don't think I'm pretty, and I think i'm a decent catch. But I don't really see how I could be someone's first choice. Maybe that's my problem...I should start to somehow view myself as the best ever for someone and then maybe that's what I'll become. I think I was just that for someone, but he wasn't that for me in return, for a few big reasons, and none of them were anything he had control over, which really sucks. I don't really get what the appeal was, but apparently it was there. I think it ends up hurting other people more when I don't agree with my own goodness or perfection. I don't really want to be single, but there's something about living with just a cat that's a hell of a lot easier than trying to be someone else's everything. I'm going to fall short, so I don't even want to try sometimes. I realize this is an awful attitude, but it really is just simpler. This one-room cabin is going to get on my nerves in a few months, but simple is good lately, because life has been so incredibly complicated in the past few years, that one room and one cat and 700 people in a town with 2 small grocery stores, one traffic light, and one school will perhaps begin to heal. The concentration of good people in this 700 is higher than is typical, I feel, even in the small community of teachers at my school. Even in the random people I meet at the stores and on the streets and in the bars. Even the strange snowmobile-obsessed white trash type folk (not all of them...but quite a few) who are beginning to inhabit the hotels and vroom vroom around the town in their tacky suits and mullets.
How come sometimes when you feel like you're doing the right thing, the person you're doing the right thing to doesn't see it? The person sees it as the worst possible thing, because it is to him? I suppose I should start to see that I do have the capacity to hurt someone else. I knew it was possible but I didn't realize the impact it would have.
It's late, the PBR is making me sleepy, and I'm still congested. Newton is pacing and clawing at random things. Fridays are throwaway days mostly. At least I get to watch The Grinch tomorrow with 5th grade, which should mellow them out somewhat.
Christmas party tomorrow...beer pong...I can revert back to the college days I never really lived out. I have no regrets about that. I'd rather play as a 26 year old de-stressing a crazy week than as a college kid with no limits or sense. Not that I have perfect sense or limits now, but I feel a tad more responsible. Just a tad.
This job is insane, and I need to find the guts to make some serious changes before next year, or I can't keep this up. I was observed this morning and the debriefing is tomorrow. I'm scared that I completely screwed up. I hope not because the period went about like normal, except one of my kids was having an exceptionally off-focus day. Thankfully in a small school the superintendent knows all the kids and will know that this one has good days and off days and will not directly blame me. Hopefully he can give me some pointers for how to re-focus him.
Meanwhile, goodnight. The high tomorrow is 5 degrees. That's a new record in my book. I'm going skiing anyway, dammit:)

horses and hot springs

2007-11-24T11:06:00.000-07:00

This year's Thanksgiving was odd...not only because I wasn't with family, because that's happened before, but because I was eating at a house where I was a friend of a friend of a friend-and never even knew everyone's name who was eating at the same table with me. There was something beautiful about that--just being welcomed into a home because someone invited me (and I brought some kick-ass mashed potatoes and a corn casserole) and because it's the West and it's Thanksgiving--the more the merrier. I was immediately treated as if I simply belonged there, even though there were no formal introductions. But there was also something discomforting about it. I didn't feel invasive, but I did start to feel like an impatient child after dinner. The group went for a walk and I joined them in the cold, feeling restless and wanting to move around. My friend didn't come but her boyfriend did, so he talked to me. I found a lost cat on the walk and called its owners, only to get an answering machine, so I carried Jerry the Cat back to the house, where he seemed completely content to sit in the lap of someone's 4-year-old daughter.
I wanted to go to the hot springs over in Idaho that night, but knew that my friends were content to stay at that house, play games I didn't know how to play, and visit. I felt frustrated, unnecessarily, immature, and selfish for wanting to leave. My friend had said earlier she wanted to go to the hot springs too, so we eventually did, but not before I silently fought the temptation to be a bit of a brat. I was surprised by my reaction to the situation. Part of me wasn't frustrated with being in Missoula or being with strangers...most of me just wanted to be with family or a more familiar group of friends, but that didn't happen this year. It's not a big deal. I have become more and more comfortable fitting in to new groups of people, as it's been a necessity with my semi-nomadic habits since I've moved West. It's normal for people to come and go around here, but everyone seems to recognize the need for community, and so everyone simply invites you in. This is what I mean when I tell people that Western hospitality far exceeds the Southern variety. In the South, the hospitality is wonderful, and you will always be treated as a guest and be offered food or a place to stay, and the manners are always impeccable. But out here, at first you will think no one has manners because they simply expect you to come in and begin acting as if you belong there. In fact, if you behave as if you expect to be treated like a guest and be served, you will be considered rude. I have learned to simply find my way around strange kitchens, help myself to food if it's offered as such, and simply be. I like this, because I was never good at being proper. There are places like this in the South, but it is often still more formal than it is out here. I love the absence of formalities and expectations. No one expects you to dress up for anything, ever.
So, in the end, we did got to the hot springs, but we went to one I hadn't been to before. There is Jerry Johnson's hot springs, where I've been a couple times, and the hike in to this one is about 1 mile, mostly flat. Easy. About 10 miles past this one is Weir Hot Springs. This YouTube video shows part of the hike and the springs, but I am warning you, it also has a bit of quasi-naked chubby white male. But it made me laugh because it's strange and there are people like this everywhere out here. Anyway...watch it if you dare. Notice he does the hike in flipflops. It's obviously summer in this video...and we went when it was 5 degrees. The trail, described by my friend's boyfriend Greg as "slightly more technical than Jerry Johnson" was nearly impassable at times. This is mostly because of ice. If the trail had been snow-covered, itw ould have been easy to get traction and walk. But the abundance of huge cedars and other undergrowth made deep snow absent on much of the trail. Ice, however, was abundant. The Lochsa river runs parallel to most of the trail, and it's rather calm at this point, but it's still a decent river, and not one I wanted to fall into when it was this cold. I had on good boots and clothing, but I'm not yet accustomed to walking on ice. I wanted crampons. There were several places where the trail was completely washed out, leaving a steep ice slope to find traction on, so that meant doing some butt-sliding and tree hugging (literally) to move forward. It was scary. It was also dark except for the full moon, which provided all of our light because I left my head lamp in Missoula. We could see pretty well, thanks to the bit of snow reflecting the moonlight. When Greg had said "slightly more technical," i had interpreted that to mean "steep" or that we might have to scramble up some rocks or something. He had meant that, but had also not realized the amount of ice that would cover the trail. We made it in, quite ready to be soaking, and sat in the misty forest for a good long time. Many people choose to soak in the nude, but I do not, at least not with a group like this. The forest felt surreal with the steam, the creek running into the spring and then over the rocks into the river below...with the moonlight beaming through the trees and the mist...it felt like a scene from Lord of the Rings. I even saw a snow-covered tree stump that looked uncannily like Gandalf.
The hike back out was a bit better, maybe because i was too tired and relaxed to be scared of falling, but also because much of it was uphill, which is much easier to deal with on ice than downhill. We got back to the car and it was 2 a.m., with an hour and a half drive still to take back to Missoula on highway 12. We encountered a cow elk, a bull moose (YAY!) and several deer on the way back. This little jaunt into the woods made my trip much more enjoyable and I'm glad I bugged my friends to come with me out there. I have been sick for 2 weeks and restless to get some exercise and be outside.
Speaking of...I am hoping I can get my skiis rewaxed and try out some of the x/c trails here in town to see how I like my "new" skiis. It's not all that cold today and it's sunny, which is my favorite kind of winter day. None of my friends are left in town except those who work at Big Sky, so I'll be skiing and watching football solo today, but I don't really mind at all. It's hard to be down when you live in such a beautiful place.
Oh yeah, and this is what my friend Erin and I did on Wednesday:
She wanted to see if one of her horses would be able to pull skiis, so we tried out a sled first. It was a lot of fun and her horse did not mind it one bit. The other horse and mules were incredibly curious, however. The last picture is Erin on Razi, the awesome horse who pulled a sled around like it was nothing.

Yes, Mom, I wore a helmet

2007-11-06T21:59:00.000-07:00

Life picks up fast when a school year is underway. Now, thanks to daylight savings time, I end up with hours of darkness to fill with reading and writing. This is a good thing, but it can be a bit lonely. Today, however, I didn't allow something like dark to keep me from being outside. I went on a rather tumultuous but fun bike ride with several other teachers. One of the older teachers took us to a different part of the trail system we ride often. I nearly didn't go because I didn't feel like I could keep up with them. I'm having a hard time adjusting to the altitude, or maybe my asthma is acting up again...not sure, but it gets pretty hard for me to breathe when I exert myself. I hate this, because I like to run and ride my bike and things like that. So usually I just let my lungs hurt and get over it, or stick to shorter rides. Well, apparently tonight I wasn't in for a 30min-1hr ride. Oh no. About 10 min in, the older teacher announced that we'd likely be returning after dark. It's not just dark out here. it's REALLY dark, and today there is no moon. Thank goodness for a little snow on the trails at places to illuminate things a bit. We have no city lights. I wish I could show you how isolated this town is...it's eerie sometimes to look at it from the hills.l It's like a square grid carved into the pine forest, with not much besides pine forest and some further out ranching fields to the north surrounding it. Life is nice and simple here. I like that.
Anyway, of course from the getgo I am at the rear of the group. I told them to not hold up for me because I would probably be a little slower, but they did anyway. I have a complex about people waiting on me and being a burden to people, but it's not as bad as it used ot be. I realize that if I just keep going, shut up, and at the very least don't over-apologize and be negative, I won't be a burden. Anyway, I hang towards the back most of the way but am able to stay with the group later on. My chain falls off four times, and I ahve to get off to replace it. This gets more difficult the colder and darker it gets. It's muddy, snowy, icy, and that's not helping the fact that I am tired and we're barely halfway in. I can't breathe well, and I begin to think of Jon Krakauer and Into Thin Air, and decide at this moment of mild discomfort that I could never endure the climb of a mountain like Everest, not that I wanted to. If I ever acclimate myself, I will stick to the Fourteeners at the most, someday.
There was a certain hill, a mild one, that I coasted down a bit behind the pack because I was again trying to replace my bike chain. (Note to self: Invest in a much, much nicer bike!) At the botom of this hill was apparently a 3-foot or so ledge. This is not a large ledge, but if you coast over it and don't see it, it causes intense pain. My bike tire went over the edge and I guess my reflexes told me to brake, so I did, and my back tire came over and simultaneously, my body went forward. I felt a cold, hard metal bar inflict severe pain at the rather sensitive place wehre my thighs meet. I teared up automatically. No one saw this, so I figured I could hide it. Afetr I caught my breath, I rode my bike standing up to try to find the group. I found them waiting around a corner. It's bad to leave someone too far behind--out of earshot anyway--because it is bear country and all. So anyway, I ride up, and one of them asks, "You ok?" And I thought...now, if no one had asked that, I could have just kept riding and I wouldn't have started crying. But someone did ask, and I did start crying, mostly because I was still in quite a bit of pain. I was embarrassed, there in the presence of a veteran teacher and 3 others who were in much better shape than me and who had happened to see the large dropoff and avoid sterilization. Thankfully they were sympathetic and laughed with me and let me gather myself quickly before we continued.
It still hurts.
But I finished the ride, not without losing my water bottle and losing all sense of traction in the mud, snow, and ice, and losing feeling in my toes from stepping into puddles when I lost traction in the mud, snow, and ice.
I'm determined to be able to do 2-hr rides like this w/out pain, at least in my lungs. I don't care if I have to add to my dorkishness and carry an inhaler. I can get a holster for that just like I have for my bear spray.

So there is a map of both my town and the trails we bike. They are cross country ski trails in the winter, and they're awesome. Notice how much larger the trail system is than the town. The website is www.rendezvousskitrails.com. Today we rode the Windy Ridge trail. Normally I'll do the Volunteer Loop or some combination of the trails on the other side right close to town. The trailhead is about 2 blocks from my house. Not too shabby, eh?
It's WAY too warm and non-snowy, by the way, for us to be doing this in November. We should be skiing already. I don't like abnormal weather.
I bought some downhill skiis and boots last weekend at a ski swap, and I'm so excited to get to go. I hope they work well. They should. They're used, but they're in good shape. I still need some x-c skiis/boots/poles, but all in good time. If I don't have any of those, I can't really get any exercise here in the winter. I may be forced to go to the gym (ick ick) for a couple months when it's REALLY cold and I can't ski much, but I will avoid that at all costs.
I have my first observation on Friday and I am nervous but not nearly as nervous as last year. It should be OK and if not, I will fix the problems. I doubt anything major will go wrong. I'll just warn my kids.
I'm pooped and my tea is getting cold. I'm reading The Plague by Camus and I like it. A friend is making me read it because I'm making him read The Brothers K which changed my life.

synonyms

2007-10-19T22:09:00.000-06:00

As soon as my mind decides that I am interested in someone, everything changes. I can no longer be comfortable around the person, because suddenly everything becomes flirtation, which is something I am terrified of doing. I think this stems from my junior high days when I was geeky (still am...) and incredibly shy, and flirtation was something I observed, not unlike my current involvement with most sports: I am a mere spectator. A good spectator, a good fan, but yet I remain uninvolved in the passing, shooting, hitting, throwing, or kicking of the hypothetical ball.
Not much has changed. I am 26, and I remain completely inept at flirting when I recognize it as flirting. Sometimes, when I reflect on my behavior (which I overanalyze too often) I realize that I flirted, and I blush, even though I am alone. I'm not supposed to flirt. It's not something I do.
I tend to think that girls who flirt purposely are viewed by men as easy, dumb, or worse. If I flirt, it is usually just playful. Countless times, I have been told by observing friends that a guy was flirting with me. To me, it was a conversation about football or a book or food or whatever. Flirting involves strutting, hair-flipping, unnecessary cued giggling, sitting on laps, out-of-the-way touching, etc. Maybe it's a semantics issue and I should expand my definition. Either way, if it's something I want to do because I want to gain the attention of some man, I flop horribly and feel annoying, stupid, and no longer worthy of said man's attention.
Yes, I overanalyze everything.
So, I need to either...
a. find a way to un-decide that I like someone and return to being quasi-vague and only friendly and make him do most of the work. ha. although deep down, I know this is what I want, my inability to wait for something better/worthwhile is about as good as my inability to wait till next week to order a new computer because it will have a new OS on it, and I am literally having to sit on my hands and block Apple.com from Explorer so I don't order it right now...and also, I realize that when it's right, I won't be thinking these thoughts and worrying these worries...right? Or maybe this is just how I roll, and no matter what, it will begin this way. Jitters are fun. Kind of. No, they aren't.
b. Screw it all and pull a "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days" and, well, be my annoying flirtatious self (because with me, flirty and annoying become synonyms) and see if I scare him away. If I don't, wha-la! If I do, it won't be anything new.

But you know...I can't ever be with someone, friend or more or less, when I can't really be myself. When I first moved I made friends with a guy that really, I just wanted to be friends with. But somehow or another, I came on too strong and we don't hang out anymore. I don't get it. I do think part of the problem is that he's the type who just assumes that any girl who talks to him thinks he's wonderfully amazing, and if he doesn't want to date said girl, he becomes aloof and lets her be. Also, he's young and all. So perhaps he never has had just a girl.friend. Maybe every female who has met him before has just fallen at his feet in complete lust. I cannot even fathom being so confident.

I am still awake right now after waking up at 5:30 to go to the walk-in dentist in Bozeman that didn't exactly work out...so that I can watch the rain become snow. I love snow. I love that you can't hear it, so you wake up and everything looks perfect and clean, but all night you never heard a peep. It's like a surprise party, or like someone cleaning your house when you're away. Snow is such a perfect substance, out here anyway, and as long as it isn't mixed with road crap and mud, it's perfect. It makes even this little rickety town look pristine. It makes every branch on the pine trees bow down all winter. It turns every hill into a playground.
But right now, I can still hear the rain. I like the sound of rain, and rain in the West is always a good thing, but I want the temperature to drop, and I want to hear sleet, and then silence, but look outside and see fat, floating flakes fall. My tin roof helps the rain sound more fun though. I'm not sure my new cabin has a tin roof...but they are one of my favorite things.

I hope that it dumps all day long tomorrow. I don't even care that I plan to move my stuff over to the cabin. Snow puts me in a good mood. The sooner it snows and sticks around, the sooner I can play and slide on various slippery things like skiis and sleds and snowmobiles. Also, the sooner my cat will quit begging to go outside. He hated the snow in Missoula, at least. Here's hoping it works here, too.

Meanwhile, I will continue reading It because Stephen King is a master at writing, and I have just learned this. I mean, he's no David James Duncan, but he sucks you in. It's entertainment reading and not deep-though philosophy hmmm reading, but still. Good sip-a-bit-of-wine-and-fall-asleep reading. Except it's freaking me out. Damn clowns.

The rain is so loud and invasive. The wind is making it worse. Although, I think I'm tired enough to get some rest despite the noise. I could think of much worse things to have to fall asleep to. These sorts of nights make me wish for an on-call cuddler friend and a dog.

Bar worms

2007-10-09T23:14:00.000-06:00

This town continues to be interesting above all else. I don't have cable...sorry..satellite...cable doesn't exist out here...yet, and so when I have to go watch baseball or football, I have to go to the bar. I typically go to a restaurant that is nonsmoking and watch their TV, but I feel like I'm wearing out my welcome at one (i should get over this soon...it's too small a place to wear out your welcome) so I went to a bar next door I'd been to before. This was Sunday night, after a somewhat lonely but also relaxing, quiet weekend, and I knew someone I know would be there, and I was right. I sat with them, was perhaps talked into becoming a volunteer firefighter (yes, they're desperate). They were there for football, and left after about an hour. The Yankees/Indians game was still on, and I wanted to watch the end, so I stayed.
The bartender, whom I know, asked me to come sit up at the bar. I realize now that he was probably looking out for me, knowing that me alone at a table, engrossed in baseball or not, was going to end up with me annoyed real fast. He was right. He had been serving the annoying tourists since about 4 p.m. A man from Boston who could have easily been my father made some cute comment about my Auburn hat, and although I tried to ignore him, he tried to buy me a drink. I said no, and kept watching the game. He sort of got the picture and simply made more polite conversation. I really just wanted to watch some baseball. He was a Sox fan, obviously, and wanted the Yanks to lose too, but I was not into being this guy's buddy.
I am starting to realize now, after a few incidents such as this one (my favorite being Friday night, but stay tuned for that story) why Montana women are tough, and why they keep telling me I'll get over being so sweet all the time. I can't help it though. I cannot bear to be rude and mean even to a stranger. This man was not being rude at all. He did have the audacity to ask me for a ride home, but I said no, and he didn't push the issue, thank God. He probably realized that if I made any fuss at all, the rest of the patrons in there who likely know who I am would have had his touron ass for dinner. I can be firm, sure, but i can't be mean. It's just not in me. I think that will have to change. I can find the meanness when it's time to be tough with a kid, or when someone gets on my last nerve, but I have a lot of nerves. I have a lot of patience. And it's not like I wasn't safe. I was in a small, local place where I had plenty of "outs" if I needed them. But still, I seem to attract strange people...
So Friday night, I went out with some of the other teachers for one of their birthdays. We ate and watched the Sox win, then went over to play pool. The bar was pretty dead, but we stayed for a little while. I was sitting at a table with a few other people when out of nowhere, this guy walks up with a wadded up golden cigarette wrapper, and crams it into my lap! My legs were crossed, and so he literally stuck the piece of paper between my thighs. My friend told me that my eyes got huge and my mouth made like a cod. I was too shocked to do the appropriate thing, which would have been to smack him, hard. Instead I swiped the paper from my lap, and lo and behold, it was the guy's number. I threw it in the ash tray and paid it no attention, but I know I was beet red. What stranger has the audacity to do that!!?? That was one time I wish I didn't have so much patience, so I would have given that guy what he deserved.
Later, when the rude guy was gone, the man he was with came over and apologized profusely for the rude guy's behavior. He explained that they worked together and that he pulls stuff like that all the time. Seriously. Who raises these people? Where is that man's mother??
Teaching is so far going well. I like this job. I feel much more relaxed here than I did in Missoula, and I think it makes me a better teacher overall. Because of my situation, management of large classes (my biggest struggle) is not as big of an issue here. I have to manage all the elementary classes, but only one of them gives me major problems. My high school classes stay pretty busy and unless they're having an off day, those kids are pretty chill. I don't think I'd appreciate this school so much if it wasn't for last year. And I don't mean to put down last year's school. It was a great place to be for a year, but it turns out that it wasn't the right place for me. The kids were phenomenal, and I miss many of them, but the kids are great here, too. I have more freedom here to teach the way I believe English should be taught, and not have to constantly wonder if I'm breaking some rule or another.
So I am seriously toying with driving all the way to Bozeman tomorrow to get my dadgum mattress. I am seriously sick of sleeping on the floor. i think it's making me stuffy. I dread going to bed and read until I flop every night, but it's hard to fall asleep on the floor. I have a couch, but I have never liked sleeping on couches. My air mattress sprung a slow leak. I have yet another friend attempting to grab the thing for me this week, but we'll see. The last person couldn't find the storage unit. What's killing me is that I am moving again in about a week. As soon as I get my next paycheck, I'm putting down a month's rent and moving into the little cabin. Very. Little. Cabin. BUT also, very cheap cabin. And now no one can call me trailer trash!
It warmed up to 60 today and it felt SO good, but I was hot. I am excited for winter, but a teeny warmup before it gets cold until June won't be bad. It'll give me a few more days to ride my bike and a few less days I'll be depressed because I can't afford skiis. Any of you Floridians have neglected skiis that need some use? I'd be happy to keep them warm for you!
Wednesday is a good day. Kindergarten in the a.m., then time to do library stuff till about 2. Then my 2 short classes-English and Publications. It's the newspaper's first deadline tomorrow, so we'll see how that goes. I'm sure I"ll get many many great excuses, but deadlines are money in the real world, so deadlines are points in my world.

rough draft

2007-10-01T21:26:00.000-06:00

So, i've become a bit pissy lately about the winter usage plans that have changed accessibility to Yellowstone, so I wrote to the paper. I'm going to have a few longer-term locals read it before I submit it in case i've made some kind of glaring mistake. But from what I've gathered, my view here is not a strange one. I haven't even hit upon another problem, which is the conflict between cross-country skiiers and snowmobilers. I might go there next. Let me know what you think.

Closing off the park to everyone except the wealthy certainly was not the National Park Service’s intention in limiting both the number of winter motorized vehicles that can enter the park each day and who can accompany them. In fact, the Winter Use Plans Final Environmental Impact Statement says that “the purpose of the FEIS is to ensure that park visitors have a range of appropriate winter recreational opportunities, while ensuring that these recreational activities do not impair or irreparably harm park resources or values.” Yet, also according to the statement, “all snowmobiles and snowcoaches in Yellowstone (will) be 100 percent commercially guided” (NPS Sept. 24, 2007). Who besides the wealthy can afford to hire commercial guides at the going rate of $40-$50 per snowmobile per day? An annual pass for Yellowstone and Teton parks is only $50, yet to access the park in the winter, it would cost me a minimum of $100 to rent a sled, plus guide fees.
I work as a teacher at West Yellowstone School, yet visiting the park this winter will be beyond my reach financially unless I work weekends as a waitress and nights at the grocery store. Previously, renting or borrowing a snowmobile was perhaps more costly than biking or driving in the park, but it was still an option for most working people. Now, with the advent of requiring commercial guides, local residents and other low-to-middle class visitors cannot consider seeing the park during the winter. Guides should not be required, but rather should be available to those who can afford to hire them and require or prefer touring assistance.
Motorized winter access to the park can be limited to preserve the park’s integrity without keeping the park inaccessible to average citizens. West Yellowstone’s economy thrives on tourism and snowmobile rentals. Businesses suffer when numbers are limited, but they suffer even more when guides are required, making the park inaccessible to all but the richest visitors.
Surely a park value is that the national parks are accessible to anyone who wants to visit, regardless of their income level. I find it hard to believe that no other compromise could be made to both preserve the values of the park and satisfy the economy of the gateway towns.
Yellowstone National Park was the first place that gave me a sense of pride in the landscape of America, and transformed me from an apathetic consumer to someone who attempts to be conscientious about her usage of resources and treatment of the land. Yellowstone has been one of the most influential teachers I have ever had. If we continue to limit access to this pedagogy of preservation, the kind of environmental respect I have garnered from Yellowstone will dwindle quickly. The wealthy should not be the only people allowed to extract lessons from our national parks.

wyhs

2007-09-27T17:22:00.000-06:00

4 weeks almost down, insane. I am so far enjoying my stay here in West Yellowstone. The weather has been absolutely perfect, as Montana weather tends to be. It will soon be quite cold, and I am again faced with the challenge of how to dress for cold I'mnot used to. Missoula, apparently, was in the "banana belt" of Montana, and their winters were quite mild. Not so here. Well below zero is the norm, and it'sbeen steadly in the 20's at night already. I love it, but we'll see how I do with REALLY cold for a long time. I don't have the clothing for it, that's for sure. I don't have the money to afford any new clothing, that's for damn sure.
Money is not my favorite thing, and I'm still making hardly any, and I'm going to be forced to work a 2nd job, which completely sucks, there's no better word for it. What is double-awful is that there are no jobs to be found right now since all the tourists are gone. When the snowmobiling and winter touring picks up, I might be able to find something, but right now, everything is winding down to nearly nothing. Lucky me.
I COULD move out of my nice roomy trailer into a teeny cabin and save $150 a month...but seriously, the place is teeny. It's smaller than my current living room. I don't want to do that. I also do not want to move again. But I would save a lot of money. My landlord would not like me, though. Oh well. I didn't sign a lease.
Can I just report that the sky is Alabama-quality blue and the trees are changing and the temp is about 58 degrees and it's breezy? Yeah, I love it. Jealous, my Florida friends? You'll feel this weather come December when it's 30 below up here.
I finally got my bike down here so I can ride and get some exercise. I don't do well running but biking gets my heart going bettre than hiking and walking. I can also cover a lot more ground. The ski trails here are good for hiking andbiking when they're free from snow. It won't be long before I will need skiis and snowshoes to travel those trails...hooray! Oh, wait. Id on't have skiis or snowshoes.
So, my current and ongoing awfully annoying financial situation has led me to consider my options as a young teacher who needs to make significantly more money than she's making in order to ever break even in this world. My options are few. Well, my legal options are few. I could stay here, work my way up the meager pay scale and work as a waitress each summer, earning much more fake-smiling for jerky tourists than I do working my behind off as a librarian, OR I could search around America for a place that would pay me quite well so I could get out of debt and come back to Missoula to buy a house, OR I could teach overseas for the DOD for a couple years, make good money, and come back to Missoula and buy a house.
Option 3 sounds best? Yep, me too. I don't want to live anywhere else in America besides Montana. I can like America here, and I'm happy here. I don't want to leave. But if I do leave, I want it to be worth it. 2 years of making money doing what I love so I can pay off debt and come back could be worth it. I'm seriously considering this, as I am still not tied down, and there must be a reason for that. I like to think that I'm not tied down ebcasue I'm meant to wander around a bit more before I settle, and not because something is terribly wrong with me.

My job is going pretty well. It's nuts keeping up with everything, but I have a lot less grading to keep track of. I started working on the school newspaper with my publications class this week, and that has been fun for me (but not for them...they think I'm insane and aiming too hight...) but it's a lot of work to motivate 8 15-17 year old kids who would rather just sit around and talk. High school is more fun to teach than I thought, but I still miss the middle school kids. Motivation wasn't really a factor with them. I do enjoy the relative ease of working with students who are starting to mature a bit more. I speak more closely to their level naturally, and I feel like they, for the most part, want to do well, but like anyone, don't want to be asked to do things that are pointless.

I have 2 sections of English, and one still has only 1 student. The other grew to 5 today with the addition of a girl. She loves to read and write, but was failing the other English class. Square peg, round hole. If the kids don't fit, this teacher doesn't want them. I sometimes wish I could whisper, "psst! it's better in here! go ahead, fail her class and come to me!" But I can't take on that many kids. They promised me my English class total would not exceed 20 in 2 classes. Because, you know, besides running the library, which in most places is a full-time job on its own, I have to teach 2 English classes, an elective called Current Issues, and sponsor the yearbook and newspaper. The elementary classes also come to me for 45 min a piece once a week. crazy, but never, ever boring. I am about to beg the high school for an aide, though. I cannot keep up with reshelving/recarding the books. yes, cards. My school is in the stone age of libraries and does not use a scannning system yet. Even the old card catalog is obsolete because no one updated it afetr about 1997.
No, Sam, I cannot find you a book about dinosaurs, because if they aren't in the 560s, I don't know where they'd be, and I can't look anything up, because there's no way TO look anything up except by going to the shelves themselves.
Sam: What? You can't look books up on the computer?
Me:
Even 3rd graders think it's ridiculous. I don't know when I'll have time to complete this supposed overhaul of the library, because I am going to have to work this summer. I wonder if they'd pay me extra. Hm. HA.
Although I must say, compared to last year, I feel like I'm rolling in money I'm allowed to spend for school purposes. I love that I can order things like posters, books, a new chair, a markerboard, etc...and no one looks twice. If you need it, order it, they say, We'll figure out how to afford it if you need it.
What if I need warm clothes? Can I put that on a PO?
The kids here are pretty chill. They're mostly small town kids who all know one another, and while that environment can't be great for kids who don't automatically fit in, it works for most of them. They've known each other so long that there's almost sibling rivalry between them that doesn't quite constitute bullying in the typical sense.
There are definitely smalltown politics here that I try to avoid. I feel as if some of these folks are in their 50s but have never outgrown high school. I don't understand certain obsessions with making sure I talk to the "right" people and work at the "right" places. I usually can circumvent the politics crap...hopefully the same will be true here.
No personal bear sightings yet. Saw a few bald eagles last weekend, and I hear elk bugles when I go out in the woods. Seen plenty of bison scat, but no bison outside the park.
I love being able to walk to work. It makes life simpler. I dont' need to use my car much....the main errands I need to run are reachable on bike. Speaking of...I need to go put some air in my front tire before I ride tonight.

three long days

2007-09-06T18:45:00.000-06:00

So tired...so much to do...so all I'm going to say right now is....
1. 20 kindergarten students in a maze-shaped library with one adult is a recipe for disaster.
2. 3 high school seniors in an elective class is a beautiful thing.
3. Small schools have amazing school lunches.
4. Teaching English to four sophomore boys is going to be an interesting challenge.
5. Having a library with no search mechanisms really stinks when you want to find a kid books about dinosaurs, mythology, or mysteries.
6. The old-fashioned "coming to Jesus" talk still works.
7. Small schools require everyone to wear multiple hats, and you'd better not expect any pity.
8. Tomorrow is Friday, and that makes me quite happy.
The end, for now.

gratitude

2007-08-19T21:56:00.000-06:00

Funny how that word (gratitude) is so close to the word 'attitude.' I'm curious now, and want to know the roots/derivations of them. Maybe in a bit. But for now, I feel ungracious. I am not the type of person to be gushy and thankful when someone does something nice for me. I always say, "Thank you," or at least I try to, but I get weird and shy for some reason. I'm more likely to show my gratitude by doing things for that person, or writing him or her a letetr. Right now, I feel like although I am immensely grateful for my dad and stepmom, I don't show it well enough. I'm not sure how to change that. I may not even be correct in this assumption. I just sometimes feel like I don't gush enough, like Catherine, but I'm not like Catherine, although I wish I had some of her flamboyance!
I feel like my "thank you's" are sometimes incorrectly read as, "Thanks, but it's not enough." I don't know why, I just do. I don't know what else to do to show my gratitude. I want to buy gifts but money is the one thing I do NOT have right now. And money is one thing I don't want to talk about right now. Why is it that a simple discussion about my paychecks next year makes me frustrated and teary? I hate it. It's such a temporary, fluid thing--money--and yet, it constantly nags me. It's my own personal demon, a little talking penny. If I were rich and my wealth haunted me, it would be a talking Benjamin, but I have talking Lincolns.
Obviously, money would not solve all my problems, but it definitely would solve some. For example, if I had it, I would not be worried about finding affordable housing in West Yellowstone. I could either buy a house or rent one of the apartments or homes that is out of my price range. I would not be worried about paying off my credit cards, or my student loans, or having the extra money to buy things like post-it notes and good pens for my students. I wouldn't be worried about affording a block heater for my car, which is going to be a necessity. Those problems, minute as they are, would be solved with money.
My issues with worry, however, would not. I'm sure I'd have new things to worry about. Money is just convenient.
So how does a person like me who is somewhat reserved show her gratitude? It's overflowing, but you wouldn't know it. I need them to eavesdrop on my phone conversations to friends describing their generosity and willingness to let me stay here for a couple weeks. They would hear me bragging about them constantly, and my mom too, of course. But I'm not good at saying these things to someone's face. Is that weird? Why can I express myself so much better in writing when most people struggle with it so much? This has always been true for me.

So, I'm planning for next year as best I can. I have the feeling that my labor day weekend will be spent in one of 2 ways:
1. planning
2. planning in my head while driving back down to CO to get my cat because HOPEFULLY I will have a place to live. Seriously, pray for that. It's working, slowly but surely. One option is better than zero.

I'd really rather visit Missoula, but I doubt that will happen. Sad. I already miss it so much. I can't get it through my head that I'm not going back to live there. Stupid no job city.

I'm nervous about teaching high school students. My dad bought me some new clothes this weekend, which ups my confidence considerably, strangely enough, and I know I will be OK, but I hate not knowing who the kids are. I wish I could take the kids from Valley out of Valley and teach them. I already know them, and that is priceless information.

I also wish I knew what the heck one of my classes IS. No one seems to know, and the teacher who taught it is retired and gone. "Current Issues," it's called. Any clue out there? Is it just a fancy name for "Journalism"? Is it just reading the news/current events? I have a vague idea, but I'd really like a curriculum. Teaching w/out one got old last year.
I think I'm pretty sure what I'm doing (see, I sound so assured...) with my "remedial" English class, although I hope I can change the name to something with less of a stigma. They already know they've been put in my class because they need another English credit or they weren't doing well under the other teacher. I am going to lobby to just call it the Reading/Writing Workshop. That's what it will be, after all. I realize the workshop push is a "trend" in English, but I think it has a lot of merit, especially for struggling students. They need to feel like they have some sense of control. Plus, they, like all of us, need a ton of practice reading and writing. I am trying to determine exactly how much of those two things we'll be doing. Enough to keep them on the edge of panic, I hope. My guess and my hope is that these students are students who did not do well in teh other English class because of its rigor (which mine will also have) but also because of the style of the other teacher. I didn't even do well under some of my teachers, so perhaps a change of scenery will work well. I hope so. I really, really, really hope so. I just watched Freedom Writers, and I get scared. Thankfully, I will have around 10 kids, not 35. Yay Montana.

So this past week, I've been walking Annabelle the dog a lot, reading the books I got from Montana Writing Project, trying to plan ahead, and painting rocking chairs. I can't visit my parents without ending up painting something. Usually it's a room. I think this is the first time furniture has been involved. I think walls are easier. At least I get to paint them red, which is fun. I have the paint all over my foot, and I keep thinking I'm mortally wounded. They just moved in here, so perhaps my stepmom is starting small. Rocking chairs...then the laundry room (turquoise, I hear....) then the bathroom (I think it involves glitter...) and then maybe the kitchen. Gold, perhaps, the colors of sunsets. She has an eye for those things.

My cat is with me, and is getting way too much attention. He's a handsome boy, alright, and the other cats are warming up to him. He's used to the kitty 500 breakfast and supper routine already, and has found his perch on the mantle. He's not terribly fond of Anna because she snapped at him at first, but he seems to be doing OK. He hates being inside all the time, and is at this very moment trying to annoy me enough or be loud enough so I let him out. Ain't happenin. He needs to get used to this so he can stay in in West, where there are coyotes, bears, and hawks who like to eat kitties!

Tomorrow, Vail. Tuesday, Aspen. Wednesday, pack up. Thursday, back to West. Next Wednesday I report for orientation, and Sept. 4 the kids start. Deep breath.

In closing, a small taste of the West Yellowstone News police reports. Always good for a laugh: Police were notified that a cat was lost. The animal was black and white and answered to the name of Mr. Himself.

Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Romans 12:13

2007-08-08T09:45:00.000-06:00

Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. 1 Peter 4:9

I realize that anger is not the appropriate response to my situation right now, but it is exactly how I feel. I am starting to get angry and even more so, confused. I need a place to stay temporarily in West Yellowstone, right? The pastor HIMSELF has a room in his basement, another woman has an entire basement furnished and empty, and the church itself has 2 rooms full of bunkbeds that are unoccupied. Yet, none of these places are "available" to me. I don't think they realize the severity of my need, even though I continually ask about a place to stay. I have to move out of this apartment in Missoula, 5 hours from West Yellowstone, before August 15th. My job starts Sept. 4. There are no apartments available to rent in West until at least late September. I realize that sounds odd, but it's true. There are seasonal workers who rent out apartments from about May-Sept/Oct. I am on every landlord's waiting list, but the odds of someone suddenly moving out in the next half a week are extremely slight. I'm seriously STUCK and no one seems to understand that. I am upset, scared, and worried. I don't know where to go. I'm not liking this at all. I'm beginning to wonder if I did the right thing taking this job down there. On top of being worried about having a place to live, I need to be in the library right now preparing for next year. I have no idea how to run a library and I sort of need to be figuring that out, don't you think? Kinda hard when you're 5 hours away. And no, there is not a place that is within commutable distance. There are towns 30 miles to the north and west, but both are expensive resort towns, which have no apartments anyway, and are hard to get to in winter. The nearest bigger town is 90 miles through a winding canyon.

Baptist church's response to my situation: They honestly looked hard for a place for me, but no one wants to house me, although several people have the room. The church is available, but since they have to clean it and prepare it for the next group, apparently I would make it dirty again, so I can't stay in one of those rooms. Gee, that makes a lot of sense. They are turning off the outside showers, but there is a shower inside. I seriously am beginning to feel like there's something wrong with me that they aren't coming out and saying. Honestly..I don't get it. But I am familiar to these people. I was part of their summer missionary group in 2002. I'm not a complete stranger. But after shutting the door in my face like they have, unless I figure out a compelling reason, I will probably not be around there too much. But the only reason I hear is that it would be inconvenient.

Presbyterian church's response was honest but more helpful. I don't know them at all, but called anyway because their pastor used to go to First Pres here, where I'm a member. She said she'd put my name and situation in the bulletin, but that they'd been looking for a place for their new youth minister to stay for the first few weeks he's here, and haven't found anything. She really can't do much more.

I'm calling the Catholic church today, and the Church of Christ.

I'm this close to calling up the Mormons! Wouldn't that be ironic if they immediately opened up a place for me?

Or maybe the church is the wrong place to turn. Perhaps the bars and ranches will be more hospitable.

The school knows about my predicament, and it's not an uncommon one. I thought I was moving to a town where I knew enough people to find a place to sleep for a few weeks. Apparently I know the wrong people.

I know, I know "something will work out..." but when I am 4 days away from moving all my stuff into storage, I am just not seeing it. I do need prayer, but I don't need empty promises of "i'm sure someone will let you stay there..." beacuse all those "someones" have told me no. So today's lesson, boys and girls, is to show hospitality. If someone comes to you and needs a place to stay, and even if all you have is a couch, offer it.

Seriously, I don't need much...a place to sleep and shower, that's about it. I will hardly be home anyway. I feel like people must think I'm irresponsible or trying to free-load or something. Yeah, that's it, a 26-year-old with a new job is trying to take advantage of people. Really, folks...

I need to quit griping and get to work. At least my fabulous old roomie is loaning me her truck and horse trailer to move my stuff to Bozeman for storage. I have a plethora of friends here willing to help me move, more than I need, really. I don't want to leave Missoula. I love it here. Why am I leaving? Oh,right. Money. Can't make any here. Just a fact I don't like, but a fact nonetheless. I will miss this place dearly and in the near future will likely try to find reasons to come back, if only to visit.

I almost don't want to bother the Baptist church again at this point. I feel like an annoyance. I feel like I should be getting the hint that I am not welcome there. I know I shouldn't judge, and there may be bigger reasons that I can't stay there, or with this lady, or with the pastor, or with anyone else...but those reasons are not being verbalized to me. I just hear, "No."

My friend last night asked me, "Isn't that supposed to be one of the benefits of being a Christian? Always having a place to stay when you need one?"
"Yes," I told her. "It's supposed to be."
She just returned from packing half of the continental divide trail through all of New Mexico and Colorado. She had no trouble finding people to take her in, give her rides to the store, feed her, and allow her to shower. She was overcome with their hospitality. Is that where it is? Outside of the church?
I'm glad, in a strange way, that I am experiencing this now. I don't want to be the person who closes the door to someone in the name of inconvenience.

finally a post!

2007-07-26T13:27:00.001-06:00

Sorry, quasi-faithful readers. I have been ridiculously busy and my blog has suffered. However, I thought that I should post SOMETHING, so I have posted below a couple of pieces I wrote during the Montana Writing Project this summer. They are works-in-progress, but they're somewhat worth sharing, I hope.
The first is an 'i am from' poem, an idea brought by one of the workshops we were part of. The second is a short skeleton of a poem I wrote for a multi-genre memoir.

I am from
I am from the dogwood tree, blooms pink like Easter dresses
Oak Mountain, the calm Cahaba River, the blistering city of steel magnolias
I am from the sad suburban sprawl that threatens the crepe myrtles, bougainvilleas, and azaleas, the cows that used to congregate for church
I am from grandma, her midnight fudge-covered pound cake sneaks
Music, clinky green-stained pianos, The Baptist Hymnal, and sing- alongs on road trips to South Carolina
I am from MeeMaw and New Orleans, giant doughnut king cakes, nostril-burning fried chicken, and lightning storms ridden out on a metal bed
Weathered porch swings, precarious climbing trees, bottles of bubbles, and early funerals
I am from the lowcountry, where uniformed Navy soldiers pace the Charleston boardwalks
I am from Pop-Pop, tobacco farms, fire and brimstone sermons, Carolina blue Pontiacs, and plaid golf hats
Alcoholism and addiction, poverty and foster parents
I am from shady trailer parks, stray tabby cats and chow dogs, packrat aunts and bearded uncles
Tea sweetened with corn syrup, abundant potluck suppers and surprise casseroles
I am from the white side of town
Prescribed revivals, weekly guilt trips and summer mission trips
Conversion-inducing youth groups and youth choirs and youth camps in Tennessee
I am from Vacation Bible School, flannel graph Jesuses, sentimental
choreographed musicals and ABC salvation
Deep-rooted palm trees, dollar-sized palmetto bugs, diurnal hibiscus plants, scuttling sandpipers, moon-driven sea turtles, mellow manatees
I am from stifling humidity, tart key lime pie, flip-flops worn year-round, brackish water, jumping mullet, muggy afternoon thunderstorms
Deafening football stadiums, politically incorrect school mascots, smuggled rum and Coke, criminal athletes and ancient coaches
I am from surrogate families, trailer youth buildings, eight-person--melody-only, please--choirs and gnarled live oaks
I am a twenty-something with a sense of adventure, needing wide open spaces, a chance to start over
I am from a restless life of constant change, loss, gain.

7th Grade Memories

What kind of damned word is, “yall?”
You’re fixin’ to go to the library?
What kind of screwed-up talk is that?
Hey, Casper, go to a tanning bed!
You can’t sit here, hick. Go muck a stall.
I ate lunch in a bathroom stall instead.

full.

2007-03-19T21:25:00.000-06:00

What is my brain's capacity? I think I'm about to exceed it. I think if one more 7th grader tells me he's stressed out, I'm going to spew. Words, that is. Not vomit, don't worry. This time I don'thave a stomach virus. I understand middle school seems overwhelming, but honestly.
I am really about to lose it. At least three times a day I question my ability to do this teaching thing, and it doesn't help that I am about 2 days behind the rest of the world all the time. My administrators must think I'm losing it. It doesn't help being female in the meantime, with all those lovely hormones lying to me all the time about how I look, how fat my belly looks 5 days of the month, what that person REALLY meant by their glance, etc.
I'm not sure writing about how insane I feel right now is going to help or just make it roll around in my head more. I have had more than one Monday night this week where I've found myself needing either a beer or a sleeping pill to help my brain calm down. It's just Mondays. The shock of the impending week, I think. They tell me it gets better after the first year. Honestly, I'm not sure.
I just really have no idea what to do at this point. At the end of the summer, if all goes as planned (and it always does....ha...) I'll be done with my master's (since i'm a master at anything, what a joke!) and have all my teaching requirements fulfilled. I have a job for next fall at the same school I'm at now, but it won't pay enough for me to begin paying off the loans that will start facing me after this summer. I'll be OK until about January, but then they're due. It sickens me to think of leaving this school because they've gone out of their way for me so many times, but I also can't face the fear of yet MORE debt I can't pay off, especially when I'm capable of earning enough to do so if I taught at a public school. I know they'd understand, maybe, but I just don't know. Part of me enjoys the constant change my twenties has brought, but most of me really wants to just have some down time. If this summer turns out the way I'm hoping it will, there may be even a couple of weeks of that actual down time I'm in dire need of.
One school up north of me has a 4-day school week with longer days. I don't know if I'd like that, but sometimes I wish we could do it. I believe their day goes from 8:30-5 p.m. Not sure how sports work, but they did it to save transportation costs so they could hire more teachers. Not a bad trade-off, but it sucks that anyone has to do that.
I'm not sure why, but I really want to be at a public school. Even being around my public school colleagues last week scoring 11th grade essays...I realized all the stuff I don't participate in. There are plusses, of course: less paperwork and testing, or at least fewer high-stakes tests, the assumption that your administrators are trying to be like Christ and therefore are going to be more forgiving, the assumption that your colleagues are the same way, the assumption that most of my students want to be like Christ, etc.
But there are downsides.
The power structure is a little, well, too powerful on one end.
I'm limited severely in what I can teach in terms of literature.
I feel judged because I'm more liberal than most people there.
I don't fit in socially with the staff. And yes, i've taken initiative.
I get annoyed with the sentimentality of many of them.
I'd be severely disciplined if they knew I didn't have a daily "quiet time." I'd probably be interrogated if I told them I attempt to stay "with" God all day, a la the Quaker/contemplative mindset. They'd think I was a crazy hippie. Shoot, I already get "looks" because I go to the Presbyterian church.

Of course, the downsides are obviously downsides I can get over,because I have. I just feel a "wave" of contention coming. I have read letters from parents that negate things the administration tells me, and vice versa. I just feel like there's some sort of quiet, smiley civil war going on between parents, teachers, teacher/parents, and administrators. It's eerily quiet, and I know that all the people involved want to do "God's will", whatever that means, but they all claim they are "praying" and want what's best for the kids and the school.
I am disturbed with how cynical and apathetic I'm becoming...I don't like it much, but it is keeping me out of trouble. At least it keeps me from gossiping becuase I don't really care about who said what about whom. I should clarify that I'm not apathetic about the kids or the school, just about the power struggles, the need for "voice," etc. I'm sure if I had more time on my hands and wasn't constantly wondering what I was doing next period...I'd have time to worry about whether or not my voice was being heard. Right now, I want to be as invisible as possible and just attempt to do this teaching thing as best I can.
Man, i was really hoping to shoot some gophers this weekend. I need take out my frustration on something. Maybe I'll squeeze in a good hike tomorrow.
There's no organizer good enough for keeping track of my life crap right now. University checklists...lesson plans...observations...applications...financial aid...debt...late paychecks...grading papers...recording grades online...letters of recommendation...transcripts...signatures...CPR/First Aid...fingerprints...certificates...registration...taxes...
I don't know how a single mother would do this. I would literally lose it. Speaking of losing it, crap, I forgot to prep for grammar tomorrow. grr.

classic.

2007-03-09T18:12:00.000-07:00

It was near the end of 7th period today, and class had gone well. They seemed to understand what I was teaching and we were having a good discussion about improving the school because we're working on persuasive essays.
Anyway, I apparently didn't see the kid in action, but a student had been making a paper airplane out of the worksheet we were talking about.He decided to throw it, and as it sailed across the room, the principal peeks int he door and the plane hit the principal in the leg! so i'm embarassed that I didn't catch him before it went into flight, but I'm psyched because I couldn't have timed that better myself. the principal just looks at D and I go, "D, remember what happened to the last kid who threw an airplane in here?"
He goes, "uh oh..."
I said yeah. You just earned a zero on that assignment. Too bad it was worth 30 points.
It was kinda funny because the principal didn't say anything. The rest of the class was just staring.
The principal just smiled at me and kept walking.
Priceless.
What sucks is that the class was going awesome and if he'd walked by 10 minutes earlier, they were doing awesome and we were having a good discussion, but of course he walks by when the one kid all day decides to be a terd.
Oh, well. Such is life.

Three Reasons Why Miss N is My Favorite Teacher

2007-01-09T17:04:00.000-07:00

What follows completely brightened up my day, because by 8th period I was ready to throw someone through the window. My classes' personalities have shifted a bit, with 1st period now acting more hyper than 7th period, and 8th period is pretty much hellacious. The problem is that by 8th period my guard is down and their energy is up. Bad combo. Either way, the following essay was written in class today but the best student ever. It's a good thing I'm her favorite teacher, she has me for 3 of 8 classes. I am going to type it in exactly as she wrote it, mistakes intact. This girl used to get "F's" in writing, and this year has improved so drastically. She's matured a lot and basically has learned how to self-edit. Either way, she rocks. And no, I didn't feed her the prompt:). They just had to write a 5-paragraph essay today.

There are several reasons why Miss N is my favorite teacher. All schools need a good teacher like Miss Newberry. The three reasons are she is fun, pretty, and she understands.
The first reason is she is fun. Miss N is a fun teacher. She teaches us fun games. Miss N makes class fun and makes it easier.
The second reason is she is pretty. Miss N is pretty and she has a beautiful face. She has cute hair. It is fun to see her. She has pretty eyes. She is one hundred percent pretty.
The third reason is she understands everything. Miss N understands our problems. She teaches us things that we do not understand. Miss N explains everything in a way we understand.
Miss N is a fun, pretty, and understanding teacher. She makes it fun to come to school. School has been better since she came. Miss N is the best teacher in the world.

Ok, YOU are the best kid EVER. Ok, so I'm not the grammar guru and I definitely don't catch every paper ball or note passed, but honestly, who cares. I don't remember that stuff now. I do remember the teachers who taught us nothing, and the teachers who really didn't care. I remember some teachers who taught me a lot academically but did not make much of an impression on me personally or spiritually. My 9th grade English teacher, Mrs. Kinder, was a grammar nazi and taught me a lot, but she was not all that personable. She smoked a lot and always seemed high-strung. Mrs. Hall, on the other hand, my 11th grade English teacher, was a cancer survivor who was a bit crazy, but I loved her. She gave me room to be creative and encouraged me. I remember her with fondness.
Well, back to grading, but that was definitely a nice thing to come across. I'm glad someone thinks I understand everything!