Fickle is as Fickle Does

If you've been reading this blog for very long (or, say, at all), you've probably realized I'm not much of a social person.  Given my own way, I'd stay holed up in my comfy house reading a good book, meandering in the back yard, or interacting with my kids.  The thought of being "out there" with lots of people, even people I know, makes me anxious, even if I do force myself to go and end up having a wonderful time.  My comfort zone consists of family and a small number of very close friends.

Finding those close friends, however, has always been a challenge.  Early on, I learned that girls are fickle creatures, and friendship with other girls usually involves cattiness and drama.  Growing up, I had one very good, very close female friend.  Most of my other friends were guys, and I preferred the straightforward nature of those friendships. 

These days, I'm somewhere in the middle.  Overall, I think I'd still rather hang out with a group of guys than a group of girls, though my closest friends in the world are women.  Even as adults and mothers, though, there has been a fair amount of cattiness and silly, juvenile behavior that drives me absolutely crazy.  Maybe it's silly, but I'm surprised to see grown women holding on to the stupidity that drove the high school cliques back in the day.  Are we women really that shallow, that we need to be the center of attention, or draw that attention to things we don't like about others?  Why is it so difficult to focus on being the best mother and person we can possibly be and let everyone else do the same? 

Crawling my way back into blogging

So it's been a long time since I've been here.  Ages.  I haven't even logged into Blogger to check on the blogs I subscribe to, because life has been so incredibly hectic and unpredictable. 

The teaching gig was fun, but I opted out for next year.  Life was going at such a breakneck pace, I felt like I was being pushed down my own path by a barreling locomotive.  While I think I did a fairly good job at teaching, I know without a doubt that the quality of my mothering and wife-ing suffered tremendously, and when it comes right down to it, the mothering and wife-ing are what mean the very most to me, so I decided they must come first.  Maybe someday I'll return to the world of elementary academia.  If I do, I'll go with the knowledge that I had a good, solid first year (which is quite an accomplishment in itself), and with the knowledge that I am welcome to return when I'm ready. 

For now, the goal is to transition back into a life that's not going 900 miles an hour, to a focus on my family and my home that doesn't make me hyperventilate because there are piles and piles of things that still need to be done, there are children desperate for attention, and what DID I plan to make for dinner?  Breathing is the name of the game. 

Remember me?



Hi there!  It's been a VERY long time since I've had a chance to write.  Our Bummer Summer came to an end shortly after my last post, and with it came extreme changes all around.  The biggest change occured four days before school was to start, when I got a facebook message from our school district superintendent saying something about a job at my kids' school.  Later that day, our school principal telephoned with a proposition:  Due to lots and lots of newly enrolled kids at our school, they had an immediate opening for a 5th grade teacher and they were offering the job to me.  In fact, they wanted me over anyone else. 

After a long, agonizing day full of prayer and angst-ridden thought, I met the principal at school and agreed to take the position.  He led me to a classroom full of dusty books and old furniture.  My task in the next four days was to clear it all out, get everything set up, and be prepared to teach 38 students. 

The next three months of my life were a high-pressured, stressful blur.  I lost track of the amount of times I wanted to chuck my teacher's editions into a puddle and go home. 

Since then, things have eased up a bit, but I'm still in a constant state of unrest.  There's never enough time to get things done on the homefront, and I hate coming back after a full day of work to a house that's got laundry piled up, a dining room table sprinkled with crumbs, and floors that desperately need vacuuming.  I'm feeling uneasy about the way the kids' behavior has changed (not for the better...), and feeling overall that I'm sacrificing my home and family life for the good of my students.  Don't get me wrong, I love my students and I cheer (inwardly AND outwardly) when they succeed, but it feels more than a little hypocritical to focus so much on other people's kids while leaving so little for my own.

The plan for next year is still up in the air.  Due to budget stuff, I fully expect to get a pink slip (layoff notice) and the end of the year.  Part time work would be ideal, but we'll just have to wait and see what happens.  I feel very strongly that God placed me in this position for a reason, but if He wants me to stay on, He hasn't shown me just yet. 

And, of course, life goes on in the meantime.  Apart from the joys and frustrations of the new job, there are dysfunctional relatives popping out of the woodwork, frenemies and girl drama to contend with, family issues, dance classes, local theater practices several times a week, and who knows WHAT else waiting in the wings.