Just one of those days.

 

 

 

I am frustrated.  It feels lately like a  bunch of little things that usually would just bother me have conspired to work together to create an avalanche of irksome things with the sole purpose of making me feel like I'm going to lose it.

 

 

There's the usual day to day stuff that comes with running a household, being a mother, and working often in a public school.  Bothersome, but eh.  I can deal.  But wait!  How about some encounters with frenemies?  Parental drama?  Too-short bangs?  Extra responsibilities?  A PTSO with a membership total of exactly ZERO and a board of officers whose number could fit into a thimble? 

 

 

Yeah. 

 

 

Usually, I can organize a logical plan of attack in my  head and "fix" thing with a methodical approach.  It's not working this time.  What I really need is a giant cup of coffee, a good british miniseries, and an entire day to shut my door against people and frustrations and life.

Pride and Prejudice

They're out there, and they are legion.  So convinced of their awesomeness, they are eager to bestow it upon the unwashed masses (that's how they view you and me).  Their opinions are presented as gospel truth, and those who question it or, God help them, disagree, are immediately denounced as unintelligent, simple, and in need of correction. 

 

Pride.

 

 

Let me say, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being proud of a job well done, or of something that's taken a lot of effort to accomplish.  That's a pride that's earned.  No, the kind of pride I'm talking about is the grandiosity that comes from a person so utterly convinced they are smarter, holier, right-er, or...well, just about any -er you can think of.  THAT pride makes the person expressing it look pompous and arrogant, and it makes the person on the receiving end of it feel inadequate and small. 

 

 

Now comes my battle cry:  What does the bible say about it?   Thankfully, this is one of the topics the bible addresses repeatedly and thoroughly.

 

 

Do you see a man who is wise in his own eyes?  There is more hope for a fool than for him.

                                                                              Proverbs 26:12

 

 

Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.

                                                                              Phillipians 2:3

 

 

Live in harmony with one another.  Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight.

                                                                              Romans 12:16

 

 

These three verses particularly resonate with me.  As Christians, we are specifically called to be humble, not arrogant.  We are directed not to act like, or believe we are better, smarter, or any -er than anyone else.  And we are specifically told not to create rivalries between ourselves and others - that includes homeschooling vs. public schooling, denomination vs. denomination, or at-home parent vs. working parent. 

 

Humility is underscored and given as a directive.

 

Even the  most humble among us struggle with pride in some form or other.  We're not perfect, but we have to at least try. 

 

 

 

  



Never confuse movement with action - Ernest Hemingway

This is me...

 

 

Hoo boy, it's been a while since I've even opened this blog, and probably even longer since someone has actually read it.  If anyone's still out there (hello?), I'm in the process of revamping this thing to make it more relevant to my daily life and all the fun stuff that goes along with it.  Props to my best buddy for launching her new blog, giving me the motivation to breathe some life back into this poor place!

 

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. 

Summer Bummer

It has been one bummer of a summer.

Things looked promising at the beginning.  Once the hectic schedule of the school year was over, we all enjoyed sleeping in, going for hikes, grilling dinner, making s'mores at the fire pit in the back yard, and lots of other things we only really get to do in the summertime.  There were even a few nice, warm days (that's above 70 degrees here in Del Norte) that allowed the kids to wear the creases out of the new shorts I'd got them and allowed me to bare my ghost-white calves with a pair of capri pants.

Then the bummers started to happen. And they started to snowball.

We got a call saying my husband's grandpa, who had terminal cancer, was nearing the end.  Husband left for a good chunk of time to be able to talk to Grandpa and say his goodbyes.  Shortly after coming back, Husband got another call saying Grandpa had passed away.  He left for another chunk of time to attend the memorial service (and give the eulogy) and help organize some of Grandpa's possessions.  It was a very sad time, compounded by the fact that Husband was away so much and I was on my own with three children who had become very bored with summer and who didn't know how to express their grief over their great-grandfather's passing in ways other than arguments and outbursts.

That was the worst part of summer.  After that, it was a plethora of little things.  Hit Girl came down with a cold, prompting her to wake up several times a night and come into our room to wake us.  I managed to shut the garage door on the hood of our new minivan and scratch it terribly.  Did I mention the garage door was bent so badly it wouldn't work and the motor in the opener caught fire?  Just this last week, Pollyana's constant summer buddy, who was here visiting family in our neighborhood, left her with head lice as a parting gift.  Two hours after discovering this, the washing machine's motor ground to a halt.

So yeah, at this point I'm hoping for a vacation from our vacation.  Our family schedule during school is completely crazy, but its predictability looks pretty nice right about now.