I’ve always been sort of a tomboy. I never liked dresses (although now I love them, I’m wearing one right now, in fact). I never was fussy in a girly-girl type of way. I hadn’t had a pedicure until I was 40. I still don’t wear make-up on a regular basis. The trappings of femininity more of less escape me.
I’m not quite sure why that is, except that my mom wasn’t much of a girly girl either. Oh sure, she was tiny and petite and loved to dress up for formal events, but she didn’t wear make-up and kept her nails short and wasn’t fussy. She also ate real food, just not very much of it.
I never really noticed any of this growing up, except that part about her getting dressed up. My father was a physician, and they attended lots of formal events. There were hospital dinners, and colleagues’ dinner parties, and parties galore. My father had his own tux, and my mother owned several glamorous gowns. I loved when they went out, because my mom and dad always looked so refined to me. The house would smell of my mother’s perfume, and my dad would slick back his hair with some gawd-awful grease that made him look quite dashing. I can’t help but smile just thinking about it.
It didn’t occur to me until many years later that there was nearly always a doggy bag from those events, and we NEVER gave the dog table food, except Kraft American cheese. That was his training treat. Why was there always a doggy bag? Because my mother never ate her entire meal, and it was too good to waste. My brother or I would get the leftovers the next day, my mother claiming that it was too rich for her.
Now I know what that phrase means, but back then I had no clue. I have to thank my mother for not making me second guess every morsel I put in my mouth, but part of me secretly wishes I knew the secret of eating like a girl from way back. I eat lunch with some lovely young teachers, and they all know the secret. They munch on peppers and hummus or pick at salads or quinoa dishes with lentils. I’m sorry, it’s all too much for me. I don’t want to eat like that.
It’s true that we didn’t eat like that at home growing up, but we didn’t eat poorly either. I blame my bad habits on hanging out with the guys. Chicken wings and beer? Sure! Pizza watching the game? You bet. Those other girls may fill their plates with raw broccoli and carrots, but I’m going to have a delicious bowl of chili. With cheese. And sour cream. And Fritos. Ok, I’m done. Except maybe I’ll have a brownie too.
Years of eating like that has certainly taken its toll. Being “one of the guys” when you’re really a girl doesn’t always pay off. I’m learning to eat better, but old habits die hard. What I wouldn’t give for a double cheeseburger and fries right now.
I have one week left of summer vacation before I head back to school for meetings and planning and classroom setup. One week left to get to the doctor and the dentist. One week left to attend to all the things I was going to do over the summer, but didn’t. One short week.
Maybe instead of focusing on what didn’t get done I should instead take a look at what I have accomplished.
Vacation
First of all, I managed to have a wonderful vacation that really felt like two vacations, since I was in two separate locations. I spent a good amount of time with my family and I got to see several friends. I walked the beach, I ate s’mores, and I swam in several different pools. I laughed until my cheeks hurt and I explored the area where the Pilgrims landed in the new world. I played mini-golf and I went to the movies and I drank wine and ate salsa with jicima and blueberries. I listened to live music and ate from a food truck and buried my toes in the sand. I saw where the Kennedy’s played football on the lawn and I ate peanut butter cup pancakes and I watched fireworks from the beach. I showed my son my university and goofed off with him in a way that just isn’t possible at home. Maybe that was enough. Maybe I didn’t have to do anything else, but I did.
Chores
I took care of my car, which was an unpleasant task, but what can I do? I need a car. I waited out the air conditioner’s coy way of fooling the repair guys, and restored some cool to our indoor space. I cleared out some items that we no longer need or love and donated them to charity. I also started cooking a little bit more, and began relying on going out a little bit less. Of course that means more trips to the grocery store, more meal prep, and more cleaning up. Oh, and laundry. I must have washed a zillion loads of laundry (that’s a lie… I’m actually boycotting laundry because I’m simply not in the mood for it).
Social Butterfly
If you know me in person and you choked on this heading I apologize. Let me clarify: I was a social butterfly to my way of thinking. I went to a baseball game with my son, I went to a painting party with a couple of friends, and I had a few lunches with friends. It all counts!
Reading
I read quite a bit this summer. Some of the books I loved, others I was less enthusiastic about, but I felt good about reading. In reverse order, I read:
The Outsiders by SE Hinton
The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty
The Orphan Master’s Son by Adam Johnson
The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan
A Dog’s Purpose by W Bruce Cameron
The Noticer by Andy Andrews
All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline
We Were Liars by E Lockhart
The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins
The bolded titles were the ones that really stood out. They were the ones I most hated to put down and the ones that gave me the most to puzzle over. That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy the others. I did. In fact I enjoyed them all.
Work
Oh yes, I did four weeks of teaching youth, I can’t forget about that. It was an enjoyable four weeks, and I would definitely do it again, should the opportunity arise. Spending my mornings with kids who enjoy creating stories and narratives is a pleasure. Helping them to refine their ideas and turn them into words on a page is remarkable. Being involved in that story telling process is quite an honor.
Rest
I admit it, I slept. I slept in, I took naps, and I went to bed when I felt tired. My body thanks me, but I’m a little bit worried about going back to work. No more nap time!
I’m okay with going back to work. A new school year is always exciting for me. I love meeting my new students and helping them to form a cohesive community of learners. We become a family of sorts, and that’s a beautiful thing. I also love seeing my former students, a few months older, a summer wiser, as they enter the fifth grade. The change in some of them is truly remarkable, and it’s so rewarding to watch those kids as they mature.
Yes, I’m about ready to go back, but before I do I’m going to enjoy one last week of r & r, there’s no need to rush it.
I was getting ready for work, early, and the phone rang.
BulgingButtons 