BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl


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Score Two For Me!


Yesterday was the last day of school. Let me assure you, this is every bit as exciting for the teacher as it is for the students.

The last day of school is meant to be a time of reflection and of wrapping up a year spent together. We looked back over what we’ve achieved, and the experiences we’ve shared. After that we headed outside for the annual staff v. 5th grade kickball game.

Yes, I said kickball. And here’s the really amazing part… I not only played, but I scored. Twice. Now you know I’m not an athlete. I’m an extremely fat 47 year old woman whose idea of physical activity is splashing around in a pool for a while (preferably with a cold beverage waiting on the edge). KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERAKickball was never really my sport. Oh sure, I played, Everyone played. But that was when I was 10! I don’t think I’ve played much since then. Still, I wanted to particiapate. I didn’t want to be on the sidelines, so I signed up. You know what? It was fun. Really fun. And I really tried. I kicked hard and ran as fast as I could. And, this is amazing, I actually got on base all three times I kicked, and scored TWICE! Needless to say, I actually enjoyed the game. Way more than my colleagues who didn’t play and were supervising all the students!

After that wrapped up, we put in a long movie and the teachers worked frantically to shut down the year. There were report cards to stuff, boxes to pack, bulletin boards to take down, papers to file, furniture to clean and move, and so much more.

Add to that general chaos the fact that our building is undergoing major construction during the summer, so EVERYTHING had to be boxed by the last day of school. The thing is, we couldn’t do too much of it early because 1. there’s no place to store boxes in a room crammed full of children and furniture, and 2. as soon as kids see you breaking down the room they check out. We needed them engaged until the very end.

I can honestly say that this has been the best year of my teaching career. My colleagues, my kids, and their parents have all be fantastic. I have rediscovered the joy that should be in every classroom in the world, but is sadly missing in far too many.

As much as I’ve enjoyed it, it’s been exhausting. Every year is. It seems to me that any teacher who isn’t ready for a break by the end of the school year hasn’t really given it their all. Like an athlete who leaves it all on the field, most of the teachers I know leave it all in the classroom. By the end of the year our batteries are drained and we need a rest.

imagesThe image that the general public has of teachers in the summer is quaint, but unrealistic for most of us.
People think we send all summer in a beach chair catching up on our reading and sipping lemonade. While there’s some of that for many of us, most of us scramble around to find summer work.

Summer school, tutoring, and seasonal employment are all popular options for educators. I’ll be teaching a writing workshop over the summer through our local university. I’m happy to have the opportunity, but believe me, it’s work. Still, it doesn’t start for a few days, so I’ll enjoy the break while I can, with a good book in one hand, and a cold lemonade in the other.


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I Never Wanted to Be a Part Time Mother

For those of you who celebrate, Happy Mother’s Day. For those of you for whom Mother’s Day rips open your heart, I’m so very sorry. And for the rest of you, well, happy Sunday.

Growing up I would go on hospital rounds with my father to see his patients. The nurses thought it was cute, and would often ask me if I was going to be a nurse when I grew up. They never thought to ask me if I was going to be a doctor. Anyway, I always answered no. I knew that I wasn’t cut out for healthcare, even at an early age.

I wasn’t sure what profession I wanted to pursue, even into my college years. I had some ideas of professions I wasn’t suited for, but the right one didn’t just jump out at me.

The obvious choice would have been educator, but I couldn’t do that because 1. I was too smart, and 2. I was indoctrinated to believe that “those who can, do and those who can’t, teach.” How foolish I was to believe those two falsehoods. Good thing I got over that and eventually found my calling.

This isn’t about teaching, though, it’s about growing up and becoming a mother. No matter what occupation I was headed for, I always knew I wanted to be a mother. I could picture it in my head. There would be trips to the park, and learning to read. There would be visits to the beach and working on school projects together. There would be long conversations in the car and Disney movies. I was cut out for it. Well, maybe not the baby part so much, but the rest of it.

Fast forward several years, and not only am I teaching but I have a son. He’s twelve, and I love him with my whole heart. All of the things I envisioned have come to pass, and there’s so much more ahead. Being his mother is part of the fiber of who I am. Then things change.

I did not choose divorce. I did not choose to dissolve my family. It is something that I didn’t anticipate. I didn’t fight it either, because by the time it happened it was overdue, but I would not have set those wheels in motion. Broken-Heart-41
I meant my wedding vows. I’m one who hangs on to things longer than she perhaps should. Still, it happened. In many ways it was a relief. But it one way it was devastating. I would no longer be a full time mother.

How is that possible? How could I continue on as if life is normal when I’ve gone from a family unit to all alone? My son needed to be with his father some of the time, I understood that, but I hated it. When he was with his father, he wasn’t with me. He wasn’t home. He was gone. I couldn’t parent him if he wasn’t there. I didn’t choose that. My heart was ripped apart.

I could stand not being married. There were even some advantages to it. In the long run, almost four years later, it was obviously for the best, at least for me. But what about for my son? Instead of two full time parents he has two part time parents. Not the same. Not good enough, in my opinion. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that he doesn’t get either of us all the time. He deserves his parents. All kids do. And parents deserve their kids. At least good parents do. And I’m a good parent, just ask my son.

 


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Oh Sriracha

Where did this stuff come from? All of a sudden it was just there. Then it was everywhere. blogsriracha

I like spicy, but I can’t handle too spicy. I’m a baby that way. Sriracha works for me. It gives my food a kick but it doesn’t make me want to cry.

That kick is important. Since I’ve gone back on Weight Watchers, I’ve been doing pretty well. Ok, unless you count my lunch today which consisted of nothing but desserts and a diet coke. Damn Teacher Appreciation Week. But I didn’t eat a real lunch so I could indulge in the yumminess. That works, right? It’s math.

Back to the kick. Since I’m getting reacquainted with healthy (in my mind boring) food, amping up the flavor is important. Sweet chili sauce, fat free Italian dressing, garlic powder, honey mustard, and Sriracha all add a lot of flavor for not a lot of calories (or any). Yay!

I love food, and want to enjoy it. Bland food isn’t for me. I want FLAVOR! If I can’t get it from butter and chocolate and cheese, then why not from condiments?