Who is me?

This morning I watched the last half of "Little Women". I mention this because Jo becomes the writer she becomes because of who she is and the experiences she had had which she then writes about. My grandmother's name was Jo. I've always felt some connection to Jo March because of Josie Mellquist, nee Johnson.

I once saw a science fiction show (Star Trek?) where an alien asks a human, "Who are you?" The first response the character gave was her name. Was it a female character or am I projecting myself into the memory? Anyway, the response of a name was met with some punishment - a shock or something. That is just your name. Who are you? A job title was the next punished response. That is just what you do. Who are you? A familial position was also rejected. I don't remember how the scene was resolved, but it has always stuck with me. How would I answer such a question? Who am I?

Well one thing is certain. Whoever I am, I am in part because I am Josie's granddaughter and I saw "Little Women" and whatever that sci fi show was. But I am not simply the result of my experiences am I? Admittedly my experiences in the sequence and intensities I experienced are a unique recipe. As are yours.

I watched an episode of "The Practice" in which many of the characters said we are what we do. Not our jobs, but our actions. I'm not looking to TV for the meaning of life. It just was interesting that it was one of my experiences today.

Today I also read Alex's philosophy paper on identity. He examined three or four theories of identity. Physical - very unsatisfying. Memory - interesting, but I'm not sure I lose bits of myself as easily as I lose my keys or your name. Mom doesn't remember a lot of things, but she is still her. Soul - hmm, I think that is a bit too undefinable. And yet...maybe that's just like calling something magic because it isn't understood.

Who am I? Am I the same person I was before? Am I the same person I will be? Is the towering oak the same as the acorn, the same as the seedling? The sapling? Or is it the sunshine and rain and lightning strikes and burrowing insect that makes it what it is? But I am not a what, I am a who.

Maybe we are the sum of our experiences. As I get older each experience is a smaller percentage of the previous sum and so the me that I am is less diluted or altered by any one experience. Now most experiences just subtly flavor the soup that is me.

One thing I know. I am me and the me that I am would like to take a philosophy class. I'm not looking for answers. Because whatever the answer, I yam what I yam. I just like pondering the questions.

When you have a new baby they are so precious. Dependent on you for everything. Bit by bit they become more able to do things on their own. Roll over, sit up, stand, walk. Sometimes progress means more work for a while. Baby proofing. They want to pick their clothes, dress themselves, go to the toilet on their own. Each bit of independence starts with a need for lots of support. slowly they attain autonomy. They babble and coo. You babble back. Eventually there are words, then phrases, then real two way communication.

Mom is making the slow reverse of that process. Rather than reveling with each achievement, I dread each step towards complete debilitation. I'm afraid of the day that I can't take care of her anymore. I worry I won't notice that day until it passes and I'm not taking care of her the way I should.

Two way communication has devolved into her phrases that make occasional sense and my replies that are attempts to seem engaged.

"Sort of off course, schedule..."
"Well it's Saturday"
"Is that his two tickets"
"Whose tickets?"
"Yes...There's a hole up there ahead first row"

Sometimes she forgets how to sit down in a chair or on the toilet. She stands there facing the seat, trying to puzzle out how to do it. Sometimes she'll start to sit down and then stand up again over and over.

I worry when she goes to the bathroom alone. Yet it isn't bad enough that I go with her every time. Today when she came back she was trying to ask/tell me something. At first I thought she couldn't pull up her pants. That's a common thing. She'll come out with her pants below her bottom. In a toddler it might be cute. Especially because it wouldn't happen very often before the pulling up pants skill would be mastered.

That wasn't it. Finally I figured out there was something she wanted me to do back in her room. As I walked back I could here the water running. I guess she forgot how to turn it off. What a mess. The sink drain was closed and the water was pouring over the counter and covering the floor, flooding out into her bedroom. Other than a package of Poise pads, nothing was permanently damage. How long will it be before it happens again?

adapt or go mad

Being a teacher means being ready to adapt.

Yesterday was the first day third grade grouped across the grade level for reading. I had 20 students from other classes plus six from my own. That means an hour of reading only and everything else being rescheduled around it.

Oh, and a half hour music rehearsal on the stage first thing in the morning. This was scheduled by the music teacher who didn't realize she should have told us sooner than last week. We had to arrange with another grade level to trade because we were originally scheduled for the middle of our new reading time.

Oh, and I got a new student yesterday. She can read, but I'm worried about where she is in math.

All of these little things plus the long weekend added up to behavior problems.

Now I had plenty of warning about this, but today is my yearly observation. A 45 minute snapshot of my teaching prowess. This year I have to teach an "Articulated Writing" lesson. This is the latest writing program the district has adopted. The administrator who is observing me made it clear she wanted to see direct instruction. Well a good lesson doesn't just have direct instruction. It also has guided practice and independent practice. So how I'm going to gracefully end this lesson is still up in the air. Perhaps I'll have a student hold up a "The End" sign and take a curtsy.

Well Meaning

I ran into a friend from work that I hadn't seen for a long time. We chatted for a minute and then she asked about mom. I told her it was getting steadily worse. She asked if mom was still living with us. When I said yes, I think she meant to be supportive by saying she would do the same and that she would never have someone else care for her parents. So I guess in her eyes I would be a total failure and terrible daughter if it ever got too hard to keep mom at home.

One of my administrators is always telling me about nursing homes that are "really great" and that I should look into moving mom into one. It's just too much to care for her at home, and it would be so much easier, etc. They're like grand hotels. So I guess in her eyes I'm playing the martyr and a terrible wife and mother if I keep mom at home.

I have had those two very different attitudes given to me by doctors too. One of mom's doctors was very much a keep her at home supporter. She kept her parents at home and it is the only right choice. My own doctor says it's too stressful and he is a nursing home supporter.

I know I have to do what is right for mom and my family in our situation. For now that means keeping her at home, but I am not saying it will be forever. I'm pretty sure there will get to be a point when we can't keep her at home, but it's not yet.

politics

Argh!

I don't like confrontation. I don't like arguing. I try to avoid political discussions like the plague.

I wonder how politically vocal I can be and still be secure in my job. I wish I had taken a class in debate back in my high school days.

I just saw a news article that painted anti-prop 8 protesters as weirdos. Then they quoted pro 8ers saying the stupidest things. This issue is just making me crazy! I can't believe how ready people are to take away equal rights. I hope the courts are ready to strike this down if it passes.

Organizing

Organizing is more than half the battle in my classroom/life.

I can't do any planning in my classroom until I've organized. Yesterday I redid name tags, changed the seating, redid the table point chart, and laid out the reading group materials before I started my lesson plans for the week. I could have worked for another 3 or 4 hours, though there would have been diminishing returns.

An organized room is calming and I do a lot of preplanning in my head as I move desks and clean whiteboards. On the other hand maybe it's an avoidance strategy.

Compared to many of my colleagues' rooms mine is stark. I like a little white space on my walls. I feel overwhelmed by too many art projects, posters, and lists. On the other hand I worry that visitors may think I don't do as much as the other teachers. After all they only know what they see.

We have administrators from the district office observing us now. They want to see the standards and strategies we are working on posted in the room. I haven't figured out how to do that so my students actually benefit from it.

anticipation

Yesterday was so long. Multiplication in a Week is labor intensive. No time for recess or lunch. Followed by after school crosswalk duty at what I lovingly call the corner of death. Then a two hour off campus meeting with the cute name Comprehension Club. Yes, that's the official name.

All through my day though was anticipation for our Fall Festival. I volunteered to be in the dunk tank from 6:30 to 7:00. We dunkees had been conferring all week about our misgivings. Still, dunking sounded better to me than pie in the face. I decided to wear my spring suit, which is a wet suit with short sleeves and legs.No white t-shirts, this is a school function!

The tank had bars around the upper half making it look like a cage. The bars protect against wild throws. I had seen them filling the tank earlier in the day. Water straight from the hose. It's not that I expected it to be heated, but seeing the hose made me shiver.

Once it was my turn in the tank I decided to duck in the water before taking my position. I wanted to get the first dunk out of the way. It was cold, but the suit helped a lot. Child after child paid their 4 tickets ($1) for 2 throws. Most didn't even come close to the target. A few hit it so lightly that it didn't release the seat. I started to relax and have fun.

Then I saw him. About 14, tall and lean muscles, baseball cap at a jaunty angle. I knew this was it! Throw and thwap! He missed, but that was a hard throw. The next...Wet, water in my nose, I'm under water and it's a shock! As I climb back on the seat I realize it wasn't so bad. Like most things the anticipation was worse than the reality.

Now I sit on the hot - no the cold seat and wait to be dunked again. And wait, and wait. I shiver and make cheery small talk with my students, parents, and staff as I wait for the next skilled pitcher. Child after child takes their shot. I hope one of my students succeeds, but none do. Then I notice another young teen in line. uh-oh he looks like he plays baseball. Sure enough, down I go. This is when I discover it's warmer to be be in the water than in the evening air evaporating.

I only got dunked one more time. Three dunks in 30 minutes. At 7:00 my 12 hour school day was almost over. I peeled off my wet suit in the staff bathroom and headed home. Now the anticipation was for my hot jacuzzi tub.

There's no crying in third grade

There is no crying in third grade - unless you are the teacher.

That's all.

If I never see another multiplication problem again I will die a happy woman. If I had a nickle for every time I screamed in my head, "Shut up B****!" at my meeting today, I'd at least have a buck to show for attending. If I had time to plan and implement everything they tell me to do at meetings that take up all my planning time...

I want to be a team player, but I don't think we're playing the right game.

Prop. 8 - just say NO

I don't usually like to talk politics. I always feel like others are more informed than I am and that my comments will just fuel the stupidity. I try to be private about my politics and religious opinions. That being said, Prop 8 is pissing me off!

First of all I think we need to really be careful about passing laws that deny rights to some that are granted to others. As a side note, I'm not convinced that felons should lose their right to vote.

I'm against prop. 8. That's not what pisses me off.

What pisses me off is the fear mongering.

One ad actually says gay marriage will become mandatory. What? Do I have to get divorced and marry a woman? Mandatory for who? Yes, the courthouse has to grant gay couples marriage licenses and perform civil services for gay couples.

Churches will not be forced to marry people. Just like a Catholic church does not have to marry a non-catholic couple now. How many lawsuits are there against LDS churches for not marrying Catholics in their temples?!

I teach 3rd grade. I do not "teach marriage" in any form. It is not a California standard. I have not suddenly started teaching same sex marriage now that it is legal. The parents from my classroom do not need to worry that curriculum has or will change. Marriage is not part of the curriculum!

Stay out of my personal life, protect my rights, protect everyone else's rights. Don't use fear in the place of facts to convince me of your issue.

water cooler

I'm a teacher. We don't congregate at the water cooler. Our meeting place is the copy machine. Today was no exception. I ran into my friend who is wrapping up her first trimester as a prego. It started as a "how's it going" quicky conversation and turned into a three-way birthing story. One thing women can always get wrapped up in is their birthing stories. I'm as guilty as the next. It's a time, one of the few, when we are truly the stars in our lives and not supporting players. The problem today was I was in line for the copier and the woman copying was deeply involved in sharing with the nervous newbie to motherhood. I wanted to chat too, share my own fascinating experiences, but I also wanted to copy and go home. I restrained myself and didn't regale them with the wonders of my two births. Finally the stories were done, the copying queue advanced, and my turn at the machine arrived.

It's funny. We talk all day to our students, but we are starved for conversation.

Busy Week

This has been Fall Break. Fall Break is a week off in the middle of our first trimester. It seems like a ridiculous time to have a break. Nonetheless (love that word) I've enjoyed the time off.

I've done all kinds of chores including having my baby tooth extracted. A creepy bit of work, but now it's done and I can get on with my life.

I had a few realizations about money this week. First, if you don't have medical insurance, you're screwed. I know this isn't news. It was just made very clear to me. We have a new insurance company as of October first. When Gary picked up his two prescriptions they tried to charge him almost $400 because the old insurance denied it and they didn't know about the new insurance. With the insurance information the charge dropped down to about $25. WOW! My mom was in the emergency room a while back. Before insurance the doctor's bill would have been around $800. With Medicare and her private insurance the charge dropped to $17. The second realization came at the car dealership. I had some work done and I realized they just make up how many hours of labor to charge. How can it take 3 1/2 hours to program new keys?! I know it doesn't take 2 1/2 hours to replace an antenna mast.

During the break I also finished some work in the closet. I put up new shelves and discovered I have an embarrassing amount of shoes. I replaced our old smoke detector when I realized the old one wasn't working. I have this fear of dying in an embarrassing way like a fire when the alarm is broken. This paragraph let's you know I have a fear of being embarrassed. It's why I haven't learned a new language.

My Baby Tooth

I have a baby tooth. Not in a jar on the shelf, in my mouth. When I was a teenager it seemed like a quirky cool thing that made me different. I also never had wisdom teeth, another cool thing.

Now it's not so cool and I'm over the quirky thing. It hurts. At least two years ago I decided it was time to have it replaced. Then I found out what that would mean. After another year of pain/discomfort I decided I had to do it. After talking to Dr. Poitras about the process again I decided to wait some more.

"Whimp!" you may say. Especially you who have had wisdom teeth removed, but "Nay!" say I.

First they remove the offending infant and let it heal for two months. TWO MONTHS I'll have a gap. Then they put in the implant post. Not the pretty final tooth - just the post. After another few months they top it with the pretty tooth.

Oh, and by the way, my insurance won't pay for it. They would pay for a bridge, but that damages the neighbor teeth.

So, finally I've put the money aside in a tax free medical account. It's use it or lose it, so I guess I'm committed this time.

I don't wanna!!!!!!!!

quiet

Yesterday morning was quite frenetic.

Showers start at 5:00 even on a regular day. Mine's at 5, Caitlin 5:30, sometime between 6 and 6:30 I help mom. Caitlin is out the door at 6:30.

Yesterday mom had an appointment at 8:00 in the valley. She was stressed because she couldn't keep straight that she would leave at 7:00 not she had to be there at 7:00. It was a long appointment with the drug study group. She's participating in a study of an alzheimers drug. I think she's getting the placebo, because she is steadily declining.

I packed a bag for mom and helped Gary get her in the car.

Alex got up before 7:00 for his shower and was out the door by 7:15.

QUIET
QUIET

How long has it been since I've been home alone. It was heaven. No one needed anything. Total relaxation...ok, that was it. Maybe 10 minutes and then I had to go to work.

That few moments though...wow

Siegfried and Roy

Last night I was viewing a total eclipse of the sun from many places around the globe. This statement alone should let you know I was asleep the whole time.

The final way I intended to see the eclipse was skydiving in Africa, or was it the Nevada desert. My diving partners were Siegfried and Roy. After jumping out of the plane, something I would never do if I was awake, I couldn't find the ripcord. I kept looking and looking, not really panicked. After a while it wasn't me who couldn't find the cord, it was Siegfried, or was it Roy? Anyway my chute worked fine and his finally opened. And that was it.

hermit

I have this fantasy. Now before I go any farther I want to make it clear, I love you and you shouldn't take this personally.

Usually this fantasy hits me in the kitchen.

My fantasy includes one plate, one cup, one knife, one spoon, one fork. Food in my fantasy is single serving, narrow in scope. Cereal, yogurt, bread. Nothing using the stove, pots, or pans. Nothing that splatters.

What is it like to clean the kitchen and come back later to a clean kitchen?

How about the bathroom. One product for all washing. One towel. ONE TOOTHBRUSH.

My fantasy does not include shoes anywhere other than on feet or in closets.

Dog hair does not exist. Neither do used tissues, half empty water bottles, unfolded laundry.

How do other people do it? I can't possibly keep up with the housework and I don't even do the cooking. If I did, we would eat the same thing everyday - and it would be plain.

writing

Hmm, that writing plan of mine hasn't been happening. I notice that a lot of what I want to write I worry will be read. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I don't want to expose anyone's confidentialities. (Is that even a word?) I know what I mean - you, that reader I worry about, know what I mean.

busy busy

Every day is full of planned and unplanned events. Some good, some bad, some mundane. I crave time to do whatever I want including nothing. Even fun things seem like a chore to fit in.

I hate feeling guilty that I'm not working in my classroom. After all, I'm not paid/contracted to be there until the 12th. There is no way I could do what is needed in that short period of time. I'll have to get in there soon.

They’re all ugly!

Gary and I are going to Santa Barbara and Solvang with Gayle for the weekend. I wanted a new summer dress for our wine tasting tour. Nothing fancy. Just something new to make me feel pretty and stuff.

I went to the mall today and all the dresses were UGLY! I noticed this trend when I took Caitlin dress shopping a few weeks ago. I think she got the only pretty dress produced this season.

I bought a skirt that was 70% off. It's great for the $11 it cost, but not what I had in mind. The dresses were so ugly that I didn't even try any on. Ordinarily I'll give a dress a chance if it seems even close. Today nothing warranted the effort.

I'm sure what I wear won't effect the fun we'll have, but damn! I wanted a new dress.

writing prompt #2

A Boy and His Bass
6-30-08


Picture 14 in my photo album is titled a boy and his bass. Alex plays a huge upright bass his mouth agape. Is he singing, shouting, or calling out, “Watch me! Watch me!” like he did as a little boy? I am in awe when I see this young man that was once my little baby. I still recognize that tow headed toddler in him. When he was little I could protect him, control his environment. Now I wonder how much influence I can have on him. He has such highs and lows Can he see the highs ahead when in the throes of despair? My heart aches and I fear for this boy when he says his happiest times are when he’s sleeping. The long sleep would end any possibility for happiness. I want to fix everything for him and I can’t. And I shouldn’t. “Hang in there it gets better,” I tell him. He feels powerless, but doesn’t know how to take control and hold it. Self discipline would help, but that isn’t a switch that can just be turned on. It takes constant work until it’s a habit. He needs to take control rather than be a passive victim of circumstance. I want to help, but maybe I’ve helped too much in the past. Watch me, watch me! I watch all the time. Even when I can’t see him, I watch, holding my breath, waiting for him to land or emerge from this daredevil feat of growing up.

writing prompt #1

Who is this woman that sits beside my bed? She rests calmly without moving day and night. Is she a fertility goddess as I’ve joked before?

Her rough pink surface makes me think of sandstone walls. Her rough pink surface attracts and holds the dust that floats by. I’m attracted to her too. I caress her, imagine sitting in her cupped lap that makes me think of a cupped hand ready to receive and cherish. She is stone, but not cold. She invites touch with her firm curves.

Why do I keep her? I don’t really think of her as a goddess - fertility or otherwise. I don’t believe in such things. She’s dusty and takes up space. She has to be protected against breaking. She certainly doesn’t fit into our admittedly eclectic décor. I’m attracted to her. She invites touch. She receives and cherishes.

Household hazardous waste A.K.A. old paint

We have a lot

I’m taking it to the HHW drop off today

Will the garage ever be done?!

conversation?

Conversations with some people are more like being an audience than a co-star.

summer has arived

Today is the first day of summer break. Or maybe not. Since I would have today, Saturday, off anyway maybe it doesn't quite count like Monday will.

This morning I took the dogs to Central Bark, the new dog park. It was fun. They were both well behaved and now they've been lazing around all day.

I also watered in the front and ate boysenberries from the vine.

Then Caitlin and I went to Costco where I spent most of our stimulus check on groceries, our membership renewal, and Dun-Da-Da-Dum a new notebook computer! I am now lying in bed typing away! I've missed my old laptop, but it gave up the ghost quite a while ago.

No I'm ready for one of my summer projects - writing. I like writing and writing likes me. Now I'll have more time for it and once again my own computer to do it on.

sleepless

I was up for hours last night berating myself for being such a bad teacher. I should have done this and more of that. Why is it the negative thoughts come uninvited to bury me? I've done plenty of good and great things this year, but those I have to coax to the front of my mind and force to do battle with the unwelcome overwhelming bad. Therapists call it selftalk I think. Last night I was my worst critic.

so many plans

When the school year is over...

I'll go to the gym.

we'll try to shift our schedule by an hour. Get up at 6, lunch at 1, dinner at 7, mom's bed time can stay at 8.

I'll work in the yard.

I'll keep up with house work.

I'll start writing. Writing with a capital W. I found a website with over a hundred writing prompts. I figure I'll start with #1 and work my way through. Good practice. I love to write and I want to do it more.

I'll wash, walk, and take the dogs to the dog park.

I'll go to all the places I have memberships for. LACMA, LA Zoo, Nat hist museum, etc.

I'll start planning for the next school year.

retirement party

I went to Mrs. Witter's retirement party.Just saying Mrs. Witter rather than Julie probably makes it clear that she's a teacher. She taught for 32 years! She was Caitlin's 2nd grade teacher and the year after that she was mine. My first year as a teacher Julie and I shared a class. I learned so much from her. I learned about teaching, students, and parents. I learned about patience, priorities, and collaboration. She is an incredible woman, mentor, and teacher.

A few years ago I went to an end of the year party. They celebrated a retiring teacher I didn't know. After the speeches all I could think was, "God don't let that be me." Her career sounded bleak and wasted. I was so depressed afterward. Granted, I was kind of depressed before and feeling bleak and wasted myself. I was probably projecting.

Anyway, after Julie's party I feel reinvigorated. Not to mention...Sam is still alive! Sam is the mud puppy salamander Julie had in her room when Caitlin was in her class. It was at the end of life expectancy then. He has vacationed at our house a few times when Julie was out of town. I stopped asking about him, because I was afraid by now he must be dead. We figured once he must be about Caitlin's age, 16.

School play

Our play was great! The students really pulled it together. I guess there's nothing like a live audience to make them get serious. They basked in the applause and then as they were leaving the stage someone "accidentally" pulled the fire alarm. Oh well we need to have one every month anyway.

Working on the play this year made me think again of one of my favorite movies. Parenthood with Steve Martin ends with a school play falling apart. I love this movie's exploration of family at so many stages.

next year

There are only 2 1/2 weeks of school left so of course minds turn to next year. All the things I can do better - next year is a clean slate. Organizing and planning make me very optimistic.

There are only 2 1/2 weeks left. I'm optimistic in one part of my head. In the other parts I accuse myself of not doing all that I could have this year. I couldn't sleep because I felt so anxious and panicky.

is it ok

to be an elementary teacher and...

an atheist

pro legalization of drugs

anti pledge of allegiance

pro gay marriage

too much input not enough control

I feel buffeted about by the world without enough power or ability to order my little space within it.

I have a stupid meeting tomorrow where everyone will be a chief - no Indians - even if you want to be one, it's not allowed. I had corner duty (Mrs. Rich, you said duty!)and the other teacher didn't show up. So I had to be a crossing guard in two directions at once. One test I gave today my students bombed because they were burned out and not careful - I gave them a second chance. Another test it looks like they bombed because the computer has the wrong answer key. I'll score those by hand. But I also need to explain the problem and I feel like an idiot. The test and the answer key match, but the answers in the computer don't. The test and key are from last year, but the computer has the updated answers. We just don't have the updated test.

The daycare my mom used to go to is trying to bill us for thousands of dollars. When she started there we were told it was covered by medicare. Now admittedly covered might not be the same as COMPLETELY covered. However, since she never got a bill we assumed it was completely covered. Once she stopped going, years after she started, they say she owes all this money.

I need to get a durable power of attorney before she gets any worse. I thought I had something like that, but after going through all the family trust stuff, I can't find anything.

We have a bottle of champagne. I want to drink it, but it seems wrong.

Sandwich Generation

Thanks Jorge

So, I was looking at Jorge Garcia's Blog and decided I'd try it. So, Thanks Jorge.

It's Sunday night. Tomorrow I get to teach decimals. It's not all bad though. We're also going to make clay pots and rehearse our Santa Clarita play. The pots will be an adventure. I've never used the kiln. I hope it works or there will be 18 disappointed fathers on Father's Day. Or is it Fathers' Day?

9:00 so it's bed time.