ASSuming...You Know The Rest

Apparently my last post was my hundredth. Seems like it may have needed some fanfare or something. I guess since I left for over a year and hopped back, most don't know to visit. So, I'll say a party would have been wasted energy.

But, wait, wasted energy...isn't that my specialty? I walk a fine line between being prepared and being neurotic, generally erring towards the latter. I'd say the greatest lesson I am learning from my children is to let go, assume the best, and hope for everything, because anything else is a waste.

Last night...case in point......

I want to digress before I tell the story and do a little qualification here. I promised myself that, in my return to my blog, that I'd be honest. This is my own journal and my relief valve. I am naturally concerned about stepping on toes and offending people, but I cannot allow that to harness me. If you read, read thoughtfully.

So, Ben and Alya chirped all Summer about how much they wanted this one particular teacher at school. A man. 4 first grade teachers, and they want the man. Men aren't teachers. Why would men teach? Women teach. Women with white hair and long skirts teach. They teach and they love and the coddle and they might even rock my babies if they need it. A few parents even approached me over the Summer. "Your two will be in first grade, right?" "You really don't want ________ . He's a nice guy, but he doesn't give extra work. Your kids need extra work." Then last week, I got a call from one of my best friends saying her daughter got ___. I wanted ___. I felt sad for me, glad for her. Suck it kids. Who cares what they want, right?

BECAUSE EVERYTHING IS ABOUT ME! ME! MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Going into our Open House last night, I was a wreck. I'd worked up in my mind that this would be the worst thing ever...them getting this male teacher, and I was fixated (as I always do because...well, the OCD). Now, mind you, Adam had certainly heard my bellyaching, but the kids hadn't. Or I assume they hadn't. Well, they probably had, but let's pretend they didn't (another thing I need to work on - keeping my opinions to a hushed voice between 10 and 11PM). And, as with most things, I think he just tuned me out. Rightfully so, and smart if I might add.

So when the lists went up, there it was.

And I don't know quite what happened, but I realized the kids were going to be thrilled. I texted Adam and he brought them on up to the school. Sure enough, when they saw the list, they were VERY excited. And I when I shook their new teacher's hand and saw his gentle smile, his sweet boys playing in the back of the room and his wife holding their new baby, I realized something. He's Adam.

I'd done the very thing parents have done to Adam....question a male teacher. I'd never done it because I know why Adam teaches. Adam teaches because he loves kids. He loves their energy and charisma and their creativity. He is driven by what they produce. He didn't become a teacher because "that's just what men do"....because it isn't. He did it to be a part of something greater than himself. He did it to have Summers off (true). He did it for the pay (snark). He also does it to take care of us. And here was Ben and Alya's new teacher with his family. I felt stupid for assuming anything at all...only partially forgiving myself because it is only natural to be a bit anxious about something new and different....right?

As Mr. ___________ talked about the year, I listened to his gentle and confident tone and realized that I'd been wrong. I'd been wrong to assume. I'd been wrong to be negative. I'd been wrong to project. Furthermore, shame on me for trying to pull his card before the game has even started. I bet, as with most any teacher, if I find my children need something, I can reach out to him and we can be a team to give them a great 1st grade experience.

So, while I doubt he would ever happen upon my writing, I apologize to him. I apologize to Adam and to Andy and Jamey and Jonathan and Mr. Mahan and Coach Jones and Mr. Highfield and all these great teachers along the way who have taught me, not just in school, but in life.

Assumption and projection are lethal. As a parent, I cannot pass that on to my kids. When we left our classroom last night, a little girl was crying. She is a little girl I know from last year. I knelt down to chat with her. And, while, this experience (a new school year) is absolutely overwhelming for children and parents alike, there is a coping element that the Kindergarten teachers really pressed last year. When my babies left the space under my wings last year and went to school, their teachers told me there'd be an adjustment period and that coping skills are critical. If you approach every new situation with an open and positive mind, coping may be merely perify. Ben and Alya never seemed to be coping last night. They just looked excited to be in the classroom they'd hoped for with the teacher they'd hoped for with friends from last year. Maybe they wanted to be with Mr. _______ because it'd be like being with their daddy.

So, with that, let's raise our juice boxes to a new year. I must trail off now to find "huggies" for water bottles. Adam scolded me last night..."they are not beer cozies," he said. I'm still learning. I am absolutely still learning.

Black Out

I need to write and I want to write, but I am BLANK. I am suffering from Facebook syndrome. You know what I am talking about. I don't want to be pigeonholed. Anything I write seems like I am becoming "that" person....the hippie, the dippie, the lone dove, the confused 20 something, the "perfect" mom, the "free" spirit, the bitter divorcee, the model Christian, the snarky dad, the almost 30 woman who is about to leave her boyfriend because they haven't had a real conversation about their future...about saving for a home...about how many kids they really want, if any at all....and he somehow just doesn't get the passive messages on Facebook that she is ready for marriage, the hunk who parties all the time and never posts...just gets tagged at the club, the stalker, the politician, the person who needs counseling and cannot afford it, the "look at me, I'm a perfect grandparent, the sluts, the scientists, the social drains.

I am not sure who is going to venture over, but, before you are crestfallen looking at the list above to figure out who YOU are. Let me say this. You know who you are, and you may not be on my list at all. In fact, chances are, if you are getting off of Facebook a moment to read something else, you may not allow yourself to be pigeonholed. Brava!

Here's me. This is my Facebook persona: If I am in a good mood it's fluffy pictures of the kids and dogs and Adam and cool social things where I tag Adam and zippadeedooda type stuff. If I am being a shithead (which is probably about 53% of the time), it is vague and passive angry posts aimed at the people or things that are bothering me. If I'm being thoughtful, it's politics. That part pisses people off. I have a degree in Political Science. I spent money and time studying it, interning, and working towards and understanding of HOW IT WORKS.


Facebook has gotten out of control for me. There is SO MUCH incorrect information being posted...and people buy this shit. Folks just believe whatever the media vomits out that day. Re-post, share...but don't stop to investigate anything for heavens sake. It is disappointing. And I realized this week that we spend all day every day with our faces stuck in Facebook. It's worse than television because it is more false, more fake, and more projected images and false innuendo about what we are and who we are and what we do. I KNOW YOU PEOPLE AND YOU ROCK I CARE ABOUT YOU. I HAVE CONNECTED TO YOU ON FACEBOOK BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I mean it. I cannot think of a single person who I am friends with on Facebook who I do not consider to be a total rock star. Do I agree with some of you cuckoo clocks on things? Hells no.

So, here is the problem. I want to leave Facebook, but I can't. I want to keep up with folks - especially those who are not with me. I want to have that social outlet to reach people and for people to reach me. I like the convenience of it. But I am addicted. I have a problem with that. So, this project that I have babbled about all year - this is a component...a very tiny piece. I've been activating pieces here and there.

Remember in my first post back where I said I left my blog because people were keeping up with my kids through the internet - people who need to be interfacing with my kids and being a part of their life???? Well....all I did was make it easier - on Facebook. Sooooooooooo.....

I am staying, but I am only going to be visiting Facebook once a day, at night, for no more than 15 minutes. That gives me time to send and receive messages, check invites, and to be selective about who I am interested in catching up with.

I got up last night to pee and checked my Facebook. I don't know. For me, that just seems kind of sad.

So...you aren't losing the snarky mom who wishes she had an occasional date night with her husband and feels angry with herself for her food addiction who struggles with the fact that sometimes (even though her children are the two most amazing people in the world) that parenting can be boring or frustrating or draining or all of the above, who is angrily passionate about love and acceptance in the world, who thinks money is a farce and all those getting sucked into the bigger house, bigger car scam are going to regret it later, who is bright and opinionated, but who is dark and reserved and trying desperately to hold back demons that would scare folks should they ever escape. Pigeonhole me. I did it to myself. I got tricked by the ease of it all. Social media. Good one.

Work in Progress

It would have been more like me to have jumped back in here, posted, then have left again for an extended period. It's not that I don't ascribe to longevity, I'm just a bit of a flake. If I can't own that this far along, then I am denying the problem. Unless it owns my soul (like Adam or our home or our children), it's dispensable.

I've always had some degree of fear that I do this wave of the hand with jobs....but I celebrated 12 years with State Farm this week. I admit there was a hiatus in there after I had A and B, and I admit, I have asked for a great deal of flexibility from my bosses, but, the greatest boss I ever had (and I have had some truly incredible mentors) once told me that I should never be defined by my job. She told me to build my life and to be who I am and to always make sure that work is just an enhancement. That coupled with my "take no shit" attitude has led me to here.

I am staring down the barrel of change, and, while I am excited about what lies ahead, I am trying not to leave carnage in my path. I returned to work full time last year when the kids started Kindergarten. That was a HUGE mistake for me. Here is the deal. If you want me to believe that you are a woman (or a man) and you work full time, grocery shop, provide your family healthy meals, schedule your family's appointments and events, make sure everyone shows up everywhere on time, pay the bills,manage the accounts, clean the house, have a positive, loving attitude toward your spouse, have sex, play with the kids, love on the kids, spend more than 45 minutes a day with your kids, nurture your kids, teach your kids, and provide your kids their primary moral, ethical, and social compass, and that you are still sane and not wallowing in the throes of depression then you are a liar. Period. Furthermore, if you think society has quit telling us to DO IT ALL, then you are blind, deaf, and dumb.

I got to my late 30s and looked around and felt like all eyes were waiting on the cape to unfurl rather than anyone asking, "what can I do to help?" What happened to it taking a village to raise a child? But, rather than get into my (very real) dreams of buying 100 acres of land and putting a handful of houses on it (those of you who are going to live and work it with me know who you are because we've planned this commune in rather great detail) (more simply put, if only my neighbors and I owned more land).....and everyone would share chores and duties and we'd live off the land and life would be simpler....harder...but simpler....

I'll spare you the commune story right now.

What I won't spare is this frustration I feel. I have the most incredibly supportive husband and I have a (male) boss who has been generous and understanding....but I have women asking me why I'd take time from my career to be with my children. WHA?

I cannot begrudge anyone their decision to put $ first, but I will absolutely tell you I vehemently disagree with the decision for my family. It is like anything else....you have your way, I have mine. At the end of the day I am interested in the planning aspect that money assists....I believe in college planning, saving for braces, and having LOTS of life insurance. What I am not interested in is how many square feet my house is (the smaller the better so I am closer to my little people) or what other people think of my furniture or clothes. Not important. Don't care.

So, for me, the decision has been to take a step back and to do more from home. I have been incredibly blessed by support I never expected in that, and it really outweighs the negative response I'd gotten. I'm returning to a part time office schedule and will be taking on more projects that I can do outside, and I am excited about that!

So, I suppose I am not wonder woman.

And I suppose you hoped for something lighter and more upbeat.

But if you want me back, I guess you will take me as you can get me.