It's been a long time

It has been a long time since I have made any additions to this blog. This is because I haven't been in a traumatic state of self-pitying and self-identity analysis since the beginning of last spring. Also, I've been really busy since school started.

I find it funny that the only time I am motivated to write is when I am going through some dramatic emotional upheaval and therefore feel the need to spew all my self analysis out on the computer for the world to see. I'll be thinking of something, usually something about my roller coaster life and my latest epiphany, and I can't wait to get in front of a computer so I can write it all down. Yet, when I am in a content phase of life and I have an idea in my head about an interesting topic that I actually have time to write about, something else is always more alluring. I say I enjoy writing and that I want to do it, yet I never take the time to write in any sort of productive way; I only write for therapy.

So, I was just catching up on my blog reading. There are really only two blogs I follow but I hadn't read either for a long time, so there was a lot of reading to do. Reading my friends' blogs caused me to want to check out my own blog which I haven't checked since the beginning of the summer. As I was reading my entries, I was particularly aware of my own writing. I was trying to determine in my head if my writing is *good* and very worried that it isn't. I wasn't so concerned with my ideas; I'm convinced the things I have to say are interesting, or at least interesting enough. Instead, I was analyzing my sentence fluency and structures and my vocabulary and feeling incredibly insecure that is wasn't *good enough*. Whatever that means.

Why? Well, it all stems back to a BIG fight Kyle and I had a little while ago. It has been a LONG time since Kyle and I had a really big blow out; we just don't do it anymore. And, as often happens when Kyle and I have a big fight, Kyle veered off the topic at hand and began focusing on insulting me purely for the purpose of hurting me. That's how Kyle fights.

Please understand, I'm now outing Kyle here or venting or even saying anything bad about him. We all fight dirty in one way or another. It's the nature of fighting. Insults just happens to be Kyle's technique which is no better or worse than anyone else's technique. And to be fair, when I saw he was really going to get down and dirty, I fought fire with fire and definitely said some things for the sole purpose of hurting him in his most sensitve areas so, you know, all's fair in love and war.

During this particular fight, Kyle was digging deep into his repertoire of insults, really focusing on my various achilles heels, and one of the insults he made is that I think I am a good writer but that actually I am a shitty writer. He even specifically referenced my blog as evidence to my shitty writing. Now, this wasn't totally out of the blue because the fight did start because I inadvertently insulted Kyle while trying to use a conversation about the book Kyle was reading to Graham as a teachable moment. I was asking Graham to use some comprehension strategy and Kyle answered the question instead of Graham. I asked Kyle to back up his answer with evidence, again in trying to model for Graham that good readers have evidence to back up there claims, and Kyle's answer was exactly the kind of answer I would tell one of my students is a cop-out. I blurted this out because it popped into my head and I was still in teacher mode, but of course it pissed Kyle off because I was basically insulting him for his answer. So, eventually this led to him saying I am a shitty reader and citing the many questions I ask about a book I'm reading that he has already read. See? Achilles heel. I mean, my god, I'm a reading teacher.

So, you can see how this naturally led to my poor writing skills which would, of course, accompany my poor reading skills.

The next day, after we had made up, Kyle apologized and admitted that he didn't really mean all the things he said and was only trying to hurt me. Particularly, he knows I am not a bad reader and that I think about reading in a different way since I teach reading comprehension to teenagers. But he definitely didn't reference the writing specifically when *taking back* what he said. And I know that the things I said to hurt him, though exaggerated, had some truth in them. So, I haven't been able to totally let go of this idea that I'm a bad writer. In the end I know it really doesn't matter. Opinions of writing are subjective and it's not like I'm trying to get published or anything or that I need to impress Kyle. When I need to write for a real purpose I get the job done and I do it well enough. But I just thought my recent paranoia in relation to the quality of my writing would be something interesting to write about, ironically. And it did get me to do some writing, even though I'm not in a state of manic-depressive life overhaul right now.

I'm Happy

I think this is the happiest I have been in a long time, and it was a LONG time coming. It feels fantastic!

I'm not saying that I don't still have those moment to moment, day to day ups and downs. I mean, duh, I'm bi-polar and life is crazy. Overall, however, I am ecstatic with the joys of life.

My happiness is probabaly a combination of a lot of things. The sun shining more and the fnal arrival of Spring definitely plays it's part. Also, I've really been putting effort into my health, eating right, lots and lots and lots of exercise, and it makes me feel SO much better. Plus, back to the weather, I prefer getting my exercise outdoors and now I can.

Speaking of that, hiking more, going to the park, being outside, I guess that all is a given with the sun but it enlivens my soul. Not sure if "enliven" is a word but, who cares, it's my word. And Amelia...Amelia, Amelia, Amelia...she is the child I imagined having long before I had children. Of course, I imagined her a boy, but she is perfect the way she is. She is me but so much better. How lucky I am to have the child I always wanted and Graham, the complete surprise, so unlike anything I ever imagined. The child I never realized I always wanted until I had him.

This is a very disjointed blog but, back to Amelia. Her amazing love and connection with nature could not make me happier. Our nature girl hearts connect us in such a special way. This weekend she and I went outside early in the morning and I sat on the patio drinking coffee and reading while she watered the plants and dug for worms and then sat staring and staring at all the creepy crawlers she uncovered. She is going to study bugs some day or something like that. What is a bug scientist called? I think that is what she is going to be. She and I are so content being outside.

But I SO digress. Happiness...another reason I am happy is I finally pulled my bike out and have been riding it a lot. Well, not a lot compared to my pre-child days, but a lot compared to the last few years. Biking makes me SO happy. I put on the trailer and Mimi loves to ride back there around the neighborhood or to the store. We also bought her one of those bikes without pedals...I forget what they are called. A little pink one. She is going to LOVE it.

Most of all, though, I think my new happiness is a result of acceptance and change. I've always loved the Serenity Prayer...basically I feel like it says that you should look at yourself and the world, admit your faults or weaknesses to yourself as well as the faults of the world, assess which you can work on or change and begin that, and accept the things that you cannot change.Messessentialism...a word a character in a book made up. Reveling in the messiness that is life. Life is messy; you have to accept it, control what you can, and move on.

I went through some big internal changes this year. I analyzed myself and life extensively and was able to uncover some things for which I have been making excuses for a long time. I decided to buck up and tackle them. I also finally made peace with some things that I cannot change.

So, I guess I feel good that I can really own a lot of my happiness. Some of the components are things I don't control, such as the weather, but most of the components of my happiness were things I made happen. That kind of happiness, the kind you work for, is the best kind. And believe me, not only is making changes hard work, but also finding the inner courage to accept and make peace with yourself and your world.

So yeah, I'm really happy and I OWN my happiness.

Cultural Message that Suffering is Admirable

My sister's birthday was earlier this week. I sent her an e-card and an amazon gift certificate over email. To be fair, we did call her as well because I believe that personal touch is important when someone you care about has a special occasion. But, I felt a little guilty, like I was copping out because I sent things over the computer. You know, that's EASY. And then it hit me:

There is this pressure in society that to truly show someone you care you have to suffer for them. I think the idea that suffering is admirable in this culture started with Christianity. There is definitely an aspect to their philosophy that suffering is noble and enduring suffering helps you get to heaven. I'm not saying that Christianity is the only religion with this notion, but it is the predominating religious influence in our culture that supports that idea.

Now, I have to admit, when it comes to sending gifts, cards, etc. for special occoasions I suck. I mean, I try, and for a few years I was really good at it. Those were the post adolescent (around 25) pre child days. Now that I have two kids I am so busy with my own life that it is truly hard to think outside my self. And frankly, it is hard to get to the post office or UPS store when you work full time and have all these child activities that fill your free time. It's a pain in the ass. But, to give someone a token of my esteem by sending something online, that isn't too hard and the result is the same: they get a gift that shows they were important enough to me to remember their special occasion.

So yeah, I realized my guilt stemmed from a subtle undertone in society that if you didn't suffer, you didn't really mean it. And frankly, that's bullshit. I will try to be better at remembering all important occasions and giving important people in my life some token of esteem, because sometimes I forget. But I'm not going to feel guilty anymore for doing it in ways that keep me from suffering and creating extra stress in my life. I encourage all of you to do the same:)

Identity and Simplicity

I have learned so goddamn much in the last few years. Particulary, in the last year. I feel like I have found my true identity, my adult identity.  I know that additional layers will be created along the way, but I finally feel confident and solid in who I am again.  I've been able to figure out a lot of my hang-ups and where they came from. As a result I have been able to let go of many of them. I feel like I've started to walk the walk that I've always talked, that I've always pretended I was truly walking. I've come back around to the really wonderful person I once thought I was but felt I had lost. Many of the paths I took, the bad choices I made, caused so much regret inside me, even guilt. I've been working on getting over that for a long time and, for the most part, came to the conclusion that all paths led me to where I am supposed to be. But I still felt like those choices caused me to regress as a person and I didn't ever think I would be able to reverse that. I once felt very proud of many of my qualities and actions, and I deserved to feel that pride. I feel like I finally have those qualities back and that I can use those qualities more expertly now that I am an adult with knowledge and experience and maturity.

A few weeks ago on the Biggest Loser the player that was eliminated was a guy named Justin. He annoyed me at first but I came to really like him just like all the other people on the show. Anyway, he said something I really liked. He acknowledged that it is wonderful to be able to say out loud that you are someone special and be proud of who you are. He's right, and I kind of feel that way now. Like I can be proud of who I am again but even more than I ever was because I have this new sense of really being in control of myself and my life and feeling pride in how I am *trying* to live it. It's funny because he is one of the many mormons on the show. I'm not a fan of the mormon religion and I'm not sure why mormons and the Biggest Loser are so attracted to each other, but I've actually liked most of the mormons on the show. Anyway, as usual, I totally digress.

Simplicity. Such an important concept that has helped shape my *new* identity. I want to live simply, much more simply than I do now. I have simplified in many ways and there is no doubt that the more simply I live the happier I am. There are so many different aspects to simplify: money/possessions, relationships, emotions, health. It's ironic that living simply in this culture is a lot of work. Our culture is definitely not based around simplicity. I'm not blaming, but we live the way we learned to live and the way that was modeled for us being raised in this culture and it has become habit and habits are hard to break. Regardless, I've really learned that simplifying things, in every way, is a beautiful thing. For me a lot of it has been mentally simplifying things, not buying into or creating stress and drama in my life that doesn't need to be there. Part of this is not caring so much what other people think. I have always REALLY talked the talked with this one, but secretly done the opposite of walking the walk in many ways. Really though, worrying so much what others think is an act of self-absorbtion. Others are too busy worrying about their own lives to spend a whole lot of time analyzing my faults. And the people worth having around really aren't that critical. My northwest friends have really taught me that. Of course, I still get insecure and worry what others think sometimes, but I've gotten a lot better.

It's freeing really, to stop worrying so much about everything. What good does it do really? As long as you are responsible and prepare for the things you can prepare for, why worry? If something out of your control happens there is nothing you can do anyway. This new way of thinking has freed me up to focus on the things that really matter in my own life. I want to do (or not do) whatever I can to make life as content as it can be for my family and me. And I really feel as if life IS becoming more content.

There is no doubt that my mini-mid-life crisis was the impetus for this transformation. I had to go through that to get here. Cliche' metaphor but, I struggled, built my cocoon and retreated inside, and came out a bigger and more beautiful butterfly.  I am a better person today than I was at the beginning of the year in January. Being this person will benefit myself, my friends, my family, and the world. I really beleive that. Let's hope this feeling lasts.

Visualizing the Story of my Future

If I hadn't decided to be a teacher, I would have become a counselor or a psychologist. Though I can enjoy a nice cynical conversation as much as the next guy, deep down I am a touchy-feely person. I'm positive and sunshiny and not afraid of emotion. In fact, I am fascinated by human emotion and love hearing people's stories and analyzing them, as well as analyzing my own.

Since I am a "coach" right now, I attend coaching trainings a few times a year. I really like our trainer immensely. She comes at the coaching from a counseling perspective and is quite touchy-feely. Transferring this method over to my job as an instructional coach is difficult because I am coaching teachers in becoming better at their jobs. At times this can focus on emotional aspects, but for the most part it is meant to stay professional.

However, many of the approaches our coaching trainer has illuminated are practices I already use in my own life, even though I didn't realize I was using them; it's always been unconcious. One of those approaches is visualizing the future you want. When first put out as a theory, it sounds cheesy. But I realized that when I make changes that help me grow and bring me joy, I usually start by visualizing what I want. It really works. Weight loss experts always talk about using this strategy. When you feel like giving up, visualize how you want to look and feel, what you want to be able to do, and it will inspire you to continue. I'm not saying it works 100% of the time; change is hard, but it's a good start.

Earlier in the year I was going through a really hard time. I am doing much better now. I think the first step was starting this blog. Counselor's often recommend journaling; it's a good strategy. By writing about my thoughts and feelings I've been able to:

1. Allow myself to feel them and voice them
2. Process them
3. Purge them

This allowed me to move forward in "becoming the change I want to see." Yes, cheesy but true. I began to visualize what I wanted my life to look like. I didn't do this on purpose, I just did it naturally. I focused on the summer. I know that I don't love my job and that the rest of the school year isn't going to be ideal. In some ways I don't have a lot of control over the rest of this school year. However, summer is my time and I have, to an extent, total control over what I do. So I began to visualize a summer in which I look and feel healthier. A summer filled with hiking and biking and outdoor activities. A summer in which I spend ample time with my children, fostering the same love of the outdoors and nature that I have. I imagine being a good role model for my children, not telling them how I want them to be, but showing them. I imagine doing a lot of reading and setting aside time to work with my children on reading, writing, math, but in fun ways. I see my son having lots of experiences to cultivate his love and talents for the arts. I see money being budgeted carefully and spent wisely. I picture a household that has a little more structure and organization so that we have more time for joy.

Once I really saw these things in my head I was motivated; I was motivated to not just desire it, but to make it happen. However, over the years and based on the experiences I've had I realize that change comes from small steps. In psychology the evidence based model for permanent, sustainable, quality change is baby step, feel success, motivation, another baby step, more success, motivation, etc. So, I've slowly started implementing baby steps over the last month and I am feeling success and some of the changes I desire. Part of this means work, work I don't always want to do. But the more I make these minor changes, the better I feel and the easier it is to do the work and take new steps. It makes me happy. I also see how it affects others. I'm seeing how my family is better for the changes I am making. If I am a better person it will also make life better for them.

I'm also seeing the positive effects of visualizing in my profession. Of course, part of my visualization for next year is that I will be back in the classroom. I'm crossing my fingers that this will happen on its own, but I'm also starting to realize that I'm willing to fight for it if it doesn't happen naturally. I'm seeing all the things I can add to my own classroom and teaching as well as how I can take what I've learned as a coach to other teams I work with in the building to make our school better for the students all around.

I've also been working one-on-one with a student who reads at about a Kindergarten levl. I'm not supposed to be doing that in my role as a coach, but I don't give a damn. It is SO rewarding. Now that I am actually doing it and seeing how it can really make a difference in this kid's life, I am visualizing taking this into the future. I want to give him resources for the summer so he can continue to practice. And this kid will, he is so inspired to learn to read. I see myself finding a way to keep tutoring him all next year, no matter what. And I can truly picture him going into high school with enough reading ability to have a fighting chance. I really, really, think we can do this. Seeing that future in my mind inspires me to follow through and not give up.

So, yeah, visualization. Maybe it sounds stupid, but it's not; I really think it works. I don't know that we always completely fulfill our visualizations, but it's a start. Picturing the future we want motivates us to take steps toward it. No matter if we fully realize the vision, or even if somewhere along the way what we want changes, we end up the better for it.

Back in Time

Early yesterday morning Amelia and I went to the store. Originally I was going to the store to get half and half and milk. This family can pretty much make do with whatever we have in the house except when it comes to three things: cream, coffee and milk. Kyle and I cannot live without cream and coffee and the kids cannot live without their milk.

However, upon further investigation it turned out that we did have cream, enough for Saturday and Sunday, or so I thought. In the end I went to the store anyway for milk, banans, cereal, and eggs; but now I wish I had purchased cream as we only have enough this morning for one cup of coffee each. But I digress.

As stated, it was quite early and very overcast, slightly rainy, and a little foggy. I didn't shower before going and just threw on some pants and a hat. I still felt groggy and unattractive as I had just recently woken up.

As Amelia and I were driving home "Where is My Mind" by the Pixies came on; I promptly turned it up as I love the song. For a moment, I was 24 again. I was 24 and driving home or to breakfast from whomever's house I had crashed at the night before. I was hung-over and gross yet somewhat exhilarated by my life and independence. At that time in my life the Pixies were a permanent fixture.

This brings me back to the incredible awe I have for the medium of music. Music doesn't just induce memories, it can literally take you back in time to a moment or an era in your life. Sometimes, like yesterday, it is literally a moment, you feel exactly like you did at that moment in time. Other times music just induces a feeling that is exactly the feeling you once experienced in the past. At those times you might not always remember the exact moment you had that feeling, but you know the era it came from. You're not just remembering the era, you are literally experiencing the feelings again, if for just a moment.

It just blows my mind and it happens to me all the time. Sometimes it is good, meaning the feeling, era, or moment the music recreates is a positive one. Other times negative past experiences or feelings are felt, but I don't mind. I like that there is something that can *almost* take me back in time, something that keeps me from completely losing those experiences, good or bad. Otherwise those experiences and feelings would only exist in the form of distant memories.

So, yeah, I enjoyed rocking out to the Pixies for a moment, regardless of being 36 and heading home from the grocery store with my child in her car seat behind me. I prefer my life now to when I was 24, but those experiences are still a part of me, made me who I am and taught me everything I know. So, I want to be able to tap into every single moment from the past. Only music enables me to do that.

Like I've Said Before: In My Heart, I'm a Hobbit

The lush scent of trees and turned earth. The soothing rustle of leaves fluttering in the wind. The subtle movements of a bird or rabbit in their natural environment. My soul yearns for these experiences.

A few weeks ago Graham, Amelia, and I went on a nice long walk down the Johnson Creek trail. Not necessarily the most beautiful trail in Portland, but still very nice. During our walk I decided something; I want to live in the country. The thought just hit me and I knew; there was no second guessing or questioning. The countryside is where I belong.

When I say country I am not thinking of being extremely removed from the city. My vision is to live in the outskirts of the city, possibly in Troutdale or towards the Gorge. Maybe out near Helvatia or even the outlying areas of West Linn. I want to be close enough that it isn’t a major commute to work for Kyle or me and we can still do things in the city, but ultimately the urban lure just isn’t there for me anymore.

When Kyle and I decided to buy a house we were both very stubborn about staying in the city. At the time we were both still tied to the idea of our younger lifestyles. We were both very social and enjoyed being “in the scene”. Unfortunately that meant we were going to spend more money for less house. Houses with a lot more yard space and square footage are available for lower prices as you move away from the urban areas, which is another positive of moving away from the city in the future. We were so set on the city, however, that we were willing to spend more for less.

We are somewhat different people now that we have two kids and have grown up a little. We rarely utilize the city amenities anymore. The truth of the matter is, whenever I have time to get out of the house to do something I find enjoyable, I seek out natural atmospheres. Any of you who know me well know that hiking is the most enjoyable thing in the world to me. (Well, reading probably ties for first place.) Honestly, I just feel more at home outside than inside. It is also obvious to me that both my kids are lovers of the outdoors. How wonderful it would be to have the option of enjoying the seclusion of nature without leaving my home!

I dream of having a magical yard; I always have. A yard that is natural and overgrown with some areas that are a bit more manicured, but not too much. I want wind chimes and rough wood benches made from the trunks of tress; lots and lots of gardens of the vegetable and flower variety. I want my kids to be able to run free and imagine the possibility of fairies and pixies in the mystery of the woods; to have snow in my yard in the winter, enough so the kids can actually play in it and make snowmen. I long for afternoons of sitting in my enchanting yard away from buildings and cars and man-made noise and watching my kids frolic and frolic and frolic.  

This is not something that is going to happen tomorrow. We are in no place to sell our house or afford buying a new house. But I have talked to Kyle about this and he is game. So, down the road when we are ready to get a new house, we are going to look out of the city. By that time Graham will be a little older and he may not be as enticed by the magic of the country. However, he is an outdoorsy kid and I believe he will enjoy having nature at his fingertips. Amelia, on the other hand, is young enough and will still be young enough when that time comes that the magical discoveries of the natural environment will be ideal for her. As for me, I am waiting for that day with bated breath.

My Job AGAIN

Boy, it is probably getting annoying that I keep complaining about my job. But, it is what I do and where I am most days so it is kind of always on my mind. I feel bad complaining about it because in general I really am a very positive person and I don't want to come off as this negative, unhappy individual. Obviously I don't feel that bad, however, because here I go complaining again.
I really don't like my new job. OK, we all know that. The funny thing is, it is actually much easier than my old job. I'm not juggling a million things like I was as a teacher. I never have to work late or take work home. And, the thinking is not nearly as strenuous. Well, the truth is, the thinking COULD be as strenuous; the "thinking" concepts are the same in both positions. How do kids learn best? What practices can we change/tweek/enhance to better help kids become successful learners? How would the kids wrap their heads around this particular concept and what is the best vessel for them to do that?
These are BIG questions. Unwrapping them and finding resources and figuring out how to apply it all makes my head hurt. But, as a teacher, it was VERY rewarding. I put in the mind work as well as the time and was able to actually use it all in class and see the results.
I should be thinking about these things as an instructional coach. The problem is:
 1. It is hard for me to think about these things when applying them to a different teacher with different strengths and different teaching styles. I can't get specific because it is not me and my students. I'm not in the other teacher's head. And, I'm supposed to think about these things for multiple teachers with multiple teaching styles. It's hard for me to think about these concepts in general and how to generally apply them. It is much easier when I'm creating (or eliciting from students) the final product.
2. I don't get the rewards for my strenuous thinking. I'm selfish; I know. I want to see the kids get it. I want to be the one to be in the room working with the kids, facilitating the awesome activities, and seeing the "aha moments" on the kids' faces.
So, point being, I choose not to think as hard when it comes to this job. The truth of the matter is, I just don't care anymore. I mean, of course I care; I care about kids and education and helping kids get the best education possible. I care about the teachers and how hard they work and I know they deserve support. But, I'm already burned out on this job. It's just not fun. I just don't have the energy to try and pick apart somebody else's lessons and classroom and analyze with them and be in meeting after meeting discussing administrative issues and being forced to think in a way that combines theory, my own beleifs, and what the district is pushing. I just don't care!
Because I'm burned out, because I don't care, I find myself just being DONE, usually an hour before the day is over. I just can't get myself to do anything else because it is all so boring and unrewarding.
I'm learning a lot of practical things that I can use in my classroom when I teach again and that's awesome. But, because of that, even more so, I just want to get back in the classroom. I want to help kids by teaching them and taking all of this and weaving it into my teaching strengths and styles and my kids. I want to support other teachers by collaborating with them about lessons and ideas. That is what I enjoy.
I'd be happy to go back to staying here until 5:00 most nights, taking home 1-4 hours of work on the weekend. I'd be happy to do it if I could be back in the classroom because then I would be enjoying my job. I would be happy on a day to day basis. I wouldn't be burned out by research and writing and reading and SITTING at a desk and trying to apply big concepts to people I don't fully understand. I would be energized by moving and interacting with kids the majority of the day and seeing their learning faces. Funny how an "easy" job can be so draining and a very hard job (which if you do it right, teaching is) can be so rejuvenating.
The good news is, for the most part, the rest of my life is going well. In general I'm content and I've accepted drudging through this job for the rest of the year. But PLEASE GOD, let me go back to the classroom next year.

Writing to kill time...

I haven't written on this blog for awhile. There are lots of times that there is something in my mind that I feel passionate about and want to write about it. Unfortunately the moments that I feel that way are never conducive to actually writing. Often it is when I am in the car. Unfortunately, even if I'm at home I am usually too busy or the atmosphere is too chaotic for me to write. Then, when the opportunity finally does arise, I don't feel like it anymore.
Earlier this morning I was really pissed off. I was up on my soap box in my mind ranting and raving about a topic that we have been focusing on recently at work. The debate about this topic pretty much came to an end on Friday and the outcome wasn't all that bad, so I don't know why all of a sudden I got pissed about it again today.
After ranting in my head and being pissed, I just got kind of depressed. Not REALLY depressed, just that blah feeling, you know? So, it's been kind of a blah day. There isn't any real reason, I don't think. Maybe a little that the weather is all dark and rainy again. Maybe a little that I am trying to be healthy all of a sudden and might be having sugar withdrawals. But really I think sometimes we just have blah days; it's part of being human.
Earlier in the week I really wanted to write about nostalgia and memories and music, again. I was feeling really good in general; I had a good week last week, and I was feeling really passionate in a positive way about myself and memories and identity etc. Hopefully that feeling will come back and I will still write about it, but not today. I'm just not feeling it.
I'm glad Spring Break is only three weeks away. No pity needed but, I still really don't like my job. So, yeah, Spring Break is a good thing. I only hope for once we actually have a nice, sunny Spring Break. I'm not saying I expect it to be super warm or shorts weather or anything, just nice enough to do outside activities.
Yeah, remember in an earlier blog I talked about cycling through over-emotional periods and then when they ended feeling kind of bored and blah? I think I'm in the bored/blah phase of the cycle. I guess the good news is that the emotional phases are sometimes happy phases now, not just angsty. But right now I don't feel like I have anything to look forward to. I mean short term. There are always wonderful "down the road" things to look forward to. But, I really need short term rewards. The funny thing is, what constitutes a "reward" or something to look forward to changes depending on my perspective. I don't think it's that when I'm going through a blah phase that there is less to look forward to, I just think that the blahness makes things seem not as exciting or happy. When I'm in an emotional phase, good or bad, things coming up seem more interesting and therefore make me more excited.
Whatever, blah, blah, blah....

More on job

After posting about not liking my job, then posting about how things are really fine, I'm going to complain about my job again. Or, more so, the loss of teaching students. This doesn't change my last email. Overall I am content in life and am lucky to have a job that does suit me in some aspects (at least I am still in a school and in education). But....

I am going through a resurgence of bitterness and saddness about the new job. I just find it so ironic that the year they decide to pull me out of the classroom is the year I have my favorite students to date. I mean, I always love my students...well, love is a strong word for last year's students:) But I seriously have not EVER enjoyed a group quite as much. I will be the first to admit that in many ways my feelings are completely selfish and self-absorbed. But, I want to be the one to teach them. I want to spend the days with them. I miss them and am bummed that the connections with them will decrease...not fade, but decrease. I can already feel it. I mean, of course, they will encounter new struggles and successes that I won't be there to see. So, I won't be the one to congratulate them or help them solve their problems. They will find someone else to fill that role. And I know that there are other great teachers with them that will do a fantastic job of filling that role. But I want it to be me:(

In some ways I feel like it would almost be easier if I just cut myself off from the kids completely. But, I can't do that. Instead I am checking in with certain kids, keeping tabs on how things are going and letting them know I am keeping tabs. Maybe I can't directly help them, but at least they will know that I care, that I think it is worth my time to keep updated on what is going on with them. I will visit them sometimes too. Even though it is hard because it makes me miss them more, I know it is the right thing.

It really does me no good to dwell on how sad it makes me that I can't be with them on a daily basis and be the one to guide their reading improvement. I think that is why I have just been avoiding even thinking about it and focusing on other things, my new job, so I won't be sad because I can't change it and have no control over it. But, sometimes it crops up, when I see them, which I'm not going to stop doing. So, for a moment I will feel sad...sad more than bitter, but in the end I will move on because that is really all I can do.

Clarification

Those of you that work with me will laugh at the title. For the rest of you, I'm known as the "clarification" person at our faculty meetings. Anyway...

I need to clarify something. Based on my blogs someone might get the idea that I am this horribly depressed, dissatisfied person. That my life is going oh so horribly right now. That is not the case.

This blog is an outlet for the melo-drama. Come on...you all know me. There is a Drama Queen inside and sometimes she needs to come out. I'm Sydney; I feel intensly...always have. I am full of passion and vigor and intensity. That's who I am. I feel anger intensely; I feel excitement enthusiastically; I feel saddness desperately; I feel love extravagantly...you get the picture. I'm me. As I've grown into an adult I've learned how to control the Drama Queen. I guess it's called maturity. That is why this blog is great. It is a safe and appropriate place to be melo-dramatic.

It is true that I have been going through some kind of transition in life, but I've kind of come to terms with it. In fact, this blog has been a big part in helping me come to terms with it. I mean, that's pretty much what transition is...denial, loss, mourning, and acceptance. But transition isn't bad and transition isn't depression. Transition is a wake-up call to the things that no longer satisfy me and therefore it's an impetus to change for the better.

So, I'm ok. Even my job is not ruining my life...no, I don't love it, but I accept it and can deal. Sometimes I just need to vent.

See how much I worry what people think, what their perception is of me? Anyway, I don't really even know who reads this blog. There are a few people I know that read it. A few that I know have read at least one entry, but that doesn't mean they always read it. I think I assumed no one else did read it. But recently I've found out that others are reading it though they don't comment. So, that's when the paranoia of people misinterpreting me kicked in.

So, again, just clarifying. I'm not going to promise that I'm going to try to write about happy things more. Because frankly, the happy thoughts aren't really the ones I need to express most of the time. It's the thoughts that I'm struggling with, that are confusing, that I need to work out through writing about them...so please, don't ever think that I am not the positive, happy person that you all know I am. We all must have a dark and a light.

My New Job

I don't like it. It is that plain and simple. I do not like my new job.

Stuck in a small dark office with no window. Much less interaction with people. Sure, I observe some classes and meet with people sometimes, but I would still say that more than 50% of the time I am in my office. One of the main reasons I became a teacher is because I DIDN'T want an office job.

And the kids. Oh how I miss the kids. Yes, I see them in the halls. Yes, I see kids in other's classes. Something funny or brilliant a kid says in a class I am observing may make me smile, but it is not the same. It is not the same as having MY kids. Building relationships with them all year.

The spring is gone from my step. The radiating sunshine is missing from my face. My job used to make me happy. Now I just trudge around, getting things done for other people. Talking to other people about what THEY are doing in THEIR classrooms. This is not what I want to do.

Can't "they" see how the light has burnt out behind my eyes? I know they had an idea what they wanted, how this would play out with me. But they were wrong. And they should have listened to my wishes. They should have considered what I said, that I DIDN'T WANT TO DO THIS. Why oh why would you take someone out of the classroom who loved being there, whose students seemed to love being there?

Not to mention the mixed messages. From one angle I am supposed to be a touchy-feely coach. Only meant to ask probing questions but not give any advice or ideas. From another angle I am supposed to be part of holding teacher's accountable for using Reading Apprentice. And most the teachers want specific ideas and advice about very specific aspects of their class. I don't always have the answers. This isn't fun and I'm not really any good at it.

I'm sure there were other good Reading teachers who would have been more inclined to do this. Teachers that want to be on the path to administration. This just shows me that is not what I want. I don't want politics and over the top data analysis. I just want to help kids become better readers.

I did try to have a positive attitude when I started. And I am trying to do my best. That isn't going to change the fact that I'm not enjoying it. Hopefully, it won't last too long and I will get to go back to the classroom sooner than later.

We'll see.

Twilight, Fiction, and Baby Steps

The other day Graham and I went on a very long walk all around the Woodstock neighborhood. When we set out it was daytime and the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. The walk ended at the park and while Graham ran around climbing on things like a wild monkey, I was listening to harp music on my ipod and watching the transformation that is twilight.
The sky starts to get darker and darker until it is almost navy blue. But the sun is still shining in low from the other direction. The sunlight shines on the trees and plants and against that dark sky background they just POP! Every natural color seems more vivid, brighter. It's amazing. Twilight has always been one of my favorite times of day.
At that moment I was so content. Everything just felt...good. I am not in a completly content place in my life right now. But even in times of discontent, there are still moments of perfect peace. This was one of them.
I find I am doing what most humans do with they are having a hard time in thier lives, trying to escape reality. People do it in different ways. Some throw themselves into their work to avoid the rest of reality. Some people throw themselves into a romance and pretend nothing else exists. Most commonly, I think, people use drugs and alcohol to escape. That was for sure my means of escape when I was younger.
I'm a grown-up now and I have kids and a job as a teacher, so that kind of escapism would inflict permanent damage on my life. Plus I'm just too old to even handle that anymore. I mean, sure, I still like my beer and wine sometimes. But certainly not with the indulgent zest I used to.
So, I find that my escapism of choice has become fiction.
I LOVE stories. I always have. I love books and movies and plays and even some tv. The most important aspect of any story, for me, is the characters. A story has to have full, interesting, well-developed characters that I actually care about. The problem is that I actually get attached to these kinds of characters. I mean, in a kind of psycho way. In my mind they ARE my friends. I miss them when the story is over. I want to re-read/re-watch the story over and over to be with my friends again. I think of them as real people. I live vicariously through them and their adventures. Because, you see, when my head is consumed with a story setting and fictional characters and I'm moving through the much more exciting and interesting events of a made-up plot...I don't have to deal with my own reality. I can pretend that life is some amazing build up and climax and that I'm still seeing the world through the eyes of a 20 year old or that magic is at my fingertips or that I'm stronger than I am and can survive great hardships which I've never come close to experiencing in my own life. In other words, I escape reality. I leave this world for awhile and immerse myself in completely different people and places.
And you're all probably thinking that there is nothing wrong with that. Reading is good. Much better than doing drugs or drinking. But, I'm obsessed. I get completely obsessed with stories and characters and...as much as I've been willing to reveal in this blog, I won't explain what I mean. Because I would have to give examples and I'm not willing to make myself THAT vulnerable.
My husband knows. You can't be married and live so intimately together and keep things from one another. I know he thinks I'm bat-shit bonkers and that it is ridiculous the way I fall in love with characters and obsess. You could ask him, but I don't think he would tell you. He accepts me and he won't betray me. That's why he's my husband.
Regardless, it has spiraled a little out of control. And, that is a sign to me that something needs to be done. It is like when the alcoholic gets the DUI and realizes it's time to face reality and deal with their issues so they won't have to turn to alcohol anymore. This is my wake up call. There is nothing wrong with taking little vacations from reality here and there. But when you spend more time in fictional worlds than reality, that's a problem. It's time to fix my life again. It's time to make some changes so I do enjoy my reality and can travel through life with gusto. And so it comes to one of the most famous and simplest pieces of advise: each journey begins with one step. I know that isn't Lao Tzu's exact quote. Although I don't think anyone can claim that any English translation is an exact quote but, you get the point. One step at a time. Baby steps. I always try to do too much, change too much in one big motion. It never lasts. One thing at a time. That is my new motto. I have a grand plan but I've broken it down into baby steps and only after I master one step will I move on to the next. I'm hoping this will create a more permanent change in my life. Through these baby steps I will eventually get back to an existence of happiness and peace. And though I know life will always have to cycle around to discontent to keep me on my toes, maybe getting to my next phase of happiness through baby steps will enable it to last longer when I get there.

Music

I just listened to the final movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, "Ode to Joy" for the first time in a long time. I remember when applying to colleges that the Ninth was the topic of one of my application essays. The writing prompt was something cliche' like: Pick a specific piece of art that is meaningful to you and explain why. I may have used that essay for more than one application; you know how you can find a way to make the same essay fit slightly different prompts so you don't have to write a separate essay for each application? Anyway, I remember as part of the essay I referenced Peter Weir, the director of the movie "Dead Poet's Society" who used the piece in the movie. I also referenced Robert Fulgham, the author of All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. He wrote a chapter on the Ninth and its amazing impact on his spirit.
I didn't realize at the time how cliche' it was to pick the Ninth as my topic. I mean, I was a smart girl, but I guess a bit "out of it" when it came to what was going on in the world in general. My own essay was evidence of this. I mean, I referenced two other people who had picked the Ninth to communicate their spirits; obviously it wasn't an original choice.
But, is it cliche'? Or, do so many people continue to acknoweldge the Ninth because it is just that fucking good? At what point does a fantastic piece of art lose its impact based on over use or over exposure? Are certain Led Zeppelin songs no better than bubble gum rock now that you hear them on various car commercials? Or, do certain pieces of art stand the test of time no matter who abuses them?
It is an interesting question.
I don't care how trite I sound, Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, particularly the final movement, "Ode to Joy" is EPIC! It is that fucking good.
And, music in general is amazing. This is what I think: I don't beleive in magic, but if there is one thing on this earth that comes close to being described as magic, it's music.
Random sound waves put together to make random notes put together through different mediums that incite saddness, anger, elation, memories, nostalgia, romance...I don't know, maybe it IS magic.
Music is not a luxury to me, it is a necessity. Ok, maybe that is not LITERALLY true, but life isn't all literal.
I always feel like I don't have the right to be such a music lover. Everyone else I know that "gets" the music thing like me, creates music in some way or another. They sing or play instruments or make electronic music and they can read musical notes. I create nothing musical. I can't even read notes. It's pathetic.
I always wanted to sing. Desperately...still do. But enough years of friends teasing me about my horrible voice and being tone deaf has beat the bravery to try it out of me. Even though other friends, who have some know about vocals, say my issue is merely breath. If a vocal teacher taught me to breath correctly, they say, I could sing. Some even say they imagine I would have a fantastic singing voice due to my raspy talking voice. Who knows. Regardless, at this point I have no control of my singing voice. Though I do sing, in the privacy of my car and home, a lot.
Both my husband and I are music lovers and I believe we have already started to instill that love of music into both of our kids. Graham actually has a very good singing voice. He is really into musical theater and I'm hoping to convince him to join Choir next year. Who knows, maybe I can satiate my desire to sing by living vicariously through him:)

Toddlers, Adolescence, and the so-called Mid-life Crisis Part 2

Ok, I think I pretty well described what I'm going through, what my mid-life crisis is. Maybe not all the details, but I think you get the gist. So today I am going to try to tackle the "Toddler/Adolescence" piece. This also answers the question of why I don't think "mid-life crisis" is an apt name for what people go through.

Through my studies of brain development, particularly child and adolescent brain development, I have learned that toddlers and adolescents are very similar. Particularly, how their brains are working in that stage of life. Both ages are points of major transition. Toddlers are transitioning from babys to kids. Adolescents are transitioning from kids to adults. With major shifts like that the brain is doing some serious overtime work of creating new neural pathways. Or, in some cases breaking old ones before creating new ones. I know my science lingo might be off, but I know my ideas are correct. Toddlers and adolescence are my two favorite ages. I LOVE them! The are so vibrant, entertaining, curious, and just plain fascinating. Everything is new again. Suddenly they have completely new eyes with which they are seeing everything from new perspectives. Both ages are so important in that guided in the right or wrong direction the age can be a serious turning point for bad or good. And, of course, both ages are very difficult, for themselves and others. Of course it is hard and crazy when your brain is going through so much at once. It's confusing to say the least. And, of course, adolescents have to deal with those pesky horomones as well. Maybe toddlers do to, I'm not sure.

At those transition ages we need to question authority, test boundaries, and assert independence as part of our new learning and growing. Our emotions are very raw and come to the surface more easily (toddler temper tantrums/adolescent "dragons"). But those ages are also very rich. Some of our most meaningful and deep experiences happen at these ages. Though we may remember the adolescent experiences better than the toddler ones, they both have lasting effects on our lives.

So, what I'm wondering is...is the so called "mid-life crisis" the third tier in this transition hierarchy? Maybe there are four tiers. Baby to Kid, Kid to Early Adult, Novice Adult to Adult, and Adult to Elderly? As I have talked about what is going on with me with some of my older friends, many of them have said they had this experience multiple times, not just once. And, they didn't necessarily call any of them a mid-life crisis. It's not a crisis, it's just another transition in life.

I see what I am going through as another adolescence. All of a sudden I feel emotion in this extreme, ridiculous way that teens do. I'm going back to fundamental identity and spiritual and meaning of life questions that I thought I left behind after adolescence. I have a strange, nagging desire to rebel. And, my hormones are out of wack again. I'm seeing the world in a new way and mourning the loss of my old perspective and way of living. Isn't that almost identical to what we go through in our teens?

Anyway, just some thoughts. There is more to say about this novice adult transition. I think that is what I am going to call it now instead of mid-life crisis. It doesn't have to be a crisis. But, that's all for now.

Toddlers, Adolescence, and the so-called Mid-life Crisis

Alright, this is the big one, the one that has been haunting me, locked up inside me for a few months now. And though it is what I most need and want to write about, it is also a pretty big issue to tackle.

I don't remember exactly when this started, when I decided I was having an early mid-life crisis. Maybe early November? But ever since I have been calling whatever it is I am going through my mid-life crisis. Actually though, I'm not sure that name is apt. I say it is not apt because I think the term "mid-life crisis" in general is not apt to what it describes. But more on that later.

I've always had a young personality, even as I grew up. I guess I've always been energetic, vivacious, and had a baby face. I've also always been kind of wild and rebellious. At least to an extent. I mean, in high school in many ways I was a very good girl. I got good grades, played sports and participated in a wide variety of other extra-curricular activities. Adults and teachers loved me. So I wasn't a rebel in a "bad girl" kind of way. But I always had a wild streak and tended to question authority, challenge my teachers, etc.
Once I got out of high school, people always thought I was younger than I was. I think a lot of that was physical, that I looked young. But I think my personality fit my look as well. And over the years, through grad school, becoming a teacher, getting married, having kids, I still always felt young. 18? 32? What's the difference? To an extent, that was how I felt. I mean I knew there was a difference. My life changed a lot and I was more responsible. But my core personality and feelings and tastes seemed to stay pretty much the same. I felt young. Until about 3 or 4 months ago.

I don't know what happened. It was such a drastic switch in how I felt. I mean, sure, there were subtle changes previous to this and I joked about my skin not being what it used to or how my body changed after pregnancy. But for all intensive purposes I still felt very young at heart. Then one day, BOOM, I felt...old. All of a sudden I realized my body couldn't do what it used to. I couldn't drink until two in the morning with my friends anymore. I realized that I don't really even enjoy some of those things any more, even though I still really want to enjoy them. People don't mistake me for being 21 anymore. I almost never get ID'd and I used to ALWAYS get ID'd, even if I was buying cigarettes. I wish I could give more examples, because there are more examples but, the point is, I realized that I am getting old; it finally caught up to me.

When I turned 32, 33, 34 and still felt like 21 was just back a block, I was sure that I would always feel that way. That is just my personality, I thought. I am young at heart and so will always look young and feel young. So, when this feeling of age hit me, it messed me up. And all sorts of other things accompanied this realization of my age. I started having SERIOUS emotional swings. I noticed I was thinking about the past, high school and my college years more and more. And, not just thinking about them, but really longing for those days and missing those days. Spending every moment when my brain was free painstakingly re-living every moment of certain experiences in my mind. Questioning my adult choices that brought me to this particular life I have now. Questioning my happiness and focusing on what I am missing out on. And the littlest things made me cry. Not just tear up, but serious sobbing fits over a song or commercial or something cute a student said. And so I figured that *something* had to be going on, more than just my normal mood swings or a rough patch in life. And eventually I defined it as a mid-life crisis.

I actually researched the mid-life crisis and particulary the female mid-life crisis. The research indicated that 40 years of age was the average time for the female mid-life crisis. I just figured I was four years early. I can also tell that there are some serious hormonal changes going on in me. Again, I've heard that is pretty normal as you get older and especially after you have had multiple children. I figure those hormone changes may have a lot to do with the female mid-life crisis. And possibly for males as well, I didn't research that. Anyway...

After that initial bout of crazy emotion and nostalgia and discontent things seemed to stabilize. I felt somewhat relieved and figured it was just a weird, one time, hormonal thing. I went on with life. But, since then, it keeps coming back, in waves. I go through periods of serious emotional purging, like I described above, and then it subsides for awhile again. None of these periods have upset me or bothered me as much as the first time. In fact, in some weird, self-indulgent way, I have almost come to like them. It has become an excuse to be self-indulgent, to recluse, to sit within my own mind and not really be present to those around me except when necessary. To indulge in memory, daydream and fantasy. And, at times during these emotional bouts it does hurt, the emotion is painful. And during those times I think to myself, "Oh, when is this bout going to end? I'm sick of this; it's too much." But then, when it does end, I feel empty. Bored. What now? I don't have excessive emotion and day dreams and fantasies and memories to immerse myself in. What do I do now?

I know it is ridiculous on so many levels. I mean, duh, what do I do now. Live my life. Not just live it, but suck the marrow out of it. Instead of sitting around mourning over my youth and escaping into memories and fantasies, live life to the fullest knowing that you are getting older and this life doesn't last forever. Do things! Find hobbies, exercise, spend time with your kids and family. Right? But the motivation just isn't there right now.

I realize that what I have said above makes it sound like I am merely depressed, or those of you who know a little more about me might be thinking, "Isn't that just your bi-polar disorder?" But I promise you, this is not the same. And I'm not moping around depressed like the last paragraph makes it sound. There are lots of things I do that are fun and I enjoy and am exuberant about. I still spend time with my kids and my friends. And even the recluse moments tend to be me reading (as my biggest escape from reality these days seems to be fiction) or listening to music while just thinking. When I am doing these things I am not sad. And when I am not doing them I am not sad. I feel more, like I said, bored.

Well, it is obvious to me that this subject is going to need to come in chapters. There is so much and it is hard to explain and not always linear. So, I am going to stop for now and continue on with it later. I mean, hell, I haven't even got to the "Toddler" and "Adolescence" part yet. More to come...

Old Friends

I quoted the song "Old Friends" by Simon and Garfunkel on my last blog. It was probably more fitting for this one...regardless. My three closest and dearest friends I have known for 20+ years. I am still in contact with all three and feel we are close, even though I live apart from all of them and don't get to actually see them much. More recently I feel like I have, as stated in my previous blog, been able to re-connect on a deeper level with some of them. It has been very important to me at this time in my life that these deeper re-connections have happened. And honestly, I genuinely hope I am still close to these three when I am old and gray. I will do everything in my power to make that happen.

I have other very dear and close friends that I haven't known quite as long. I also have friends that I have known as long, but we aren't that close any more. These three are special because there is a bond there that cannot be duplicated. The reason for this is that they have seen me at my worst, and my worst was seedy, horrible, and disgusting. That is not the same as knowing about my seedy past as my husband does. They were actually there; they actually experienced it with me. They have seen me grow and change (as I have them) and they still love me. That creates a a bond that is hard to penetrate. The fact that recently, after all these years, when we see each other only once or twice a year, they still trusted me enough to share incredibly private and serious experiences is a testament to that bond. I would feel safe sharing the same kinds of things with them.

I miss them so much. But I am so thankful that they are still in my life. And at this point, in the midst of my mini-mid-life crisis, the deeper bonds we have re-established are very important to me. More so, I need those bonds again as I flounder through this new life as an adult. A life that, honestly, I'm not completely comfortable with or satisfied with. We will never be able to go back to the experiences we once had together. I long to re-live them, not the bad ones, but the many, many good and important ones. But I can't. I can only wax nostalgic about them. How lucky I am to have had those experiences. Now, I can create new memories. We can continue to share and grow together as we all three navigate growing older. That calms me a little, makes me feel a little better and a little less fearful about this new stage in my life.

One other interesting point. Two of these three friends are male. For much of my life I had many male friends. Of course I need female friends as well and have had many. But, I've always gravitated towards males as good friends and found those friendships to be particularly meaningful. I think as you grow older, get married, etc....it is harder to create close platonic bonds with the opposite sex. I think you make "couple" friends and can be close to both people in the couple, but it is different than the one on one closeness I have had previously with male friends.  I could go into more detail about why I think I have gravitated to platonic male friendships and why I feel I need them, but not right now. My point is, for awhile I wasn't in as constant contact with these two and I really, really missed having close male friends. So, this is another reason I am so happy to feel closer to them again and will do whatever it takes to continue our close relationships.

I will also work hard at this, with all three, because I was seriously estranged with two of them for a long period of time. The estrangement with both of them was completely my fault. But, that's another blog for another day, if I'm ever even brave enough to write about it. So anyway, I need to make up for that estrangement by doing the work to stay close to them from now on.

Anyway, that's all. I think I just needed to say all that.

Old Friends/Mid-life Crisis

There is so much in my brain, so much "blog fodder" that I have been holding onto for awhile. It usually manifests in my brain when driving. But then I get out of the car and life is on again. Therefore, there is so much I want to write. And, mostly, it interconnects so it is easy to start on one topic and ramble in many different directions. So, I definitely have a whole "thing" I want to say about old friends. And I also have a whole "thing" I want to say about the idea of a mid-life crisis. But today I am going to talk about something that combines both. Maybe that seems out of order. Maybe I should start with the two separate introductions first. But alas, the spirit moves me to write about the combined issue.

Recently more than one of my oldest and dearest friends have confided in me about important and serious events in their pasts that have led to their experience today. Though I have stayed in contact with these friends, it has been a long while since I have had deep and introspective conversations with any of them. However, it is a really good thing that these conversations are happening, especially at this moment in my life.

Things really change when you grow up. I can only speak from the perspective of one whose path to becoming an adult consisted of getting married and having kids. For those adults that have not done one or both of those things, understand that I know one can grow up and be an adult without getting married and/or having kids. But again, I can only speak to my experience.

Anyway, when I was young, even in my 20's, friends, groups of friends, cliques, best friends were still very much a part of my life. In fact, they were often the focus. Even when I had a serious significant other, still, friends were in many ways my family. They were whom I would call at 3:00 in the morning when upset. They were whom I would tell my darkest issues to analyze and discuss. In many ways they were my therapists and I theirs. But, when I created my own nuclear family, that changed. My spouse became my best friend and that is a good thing. But, the context is different. People can't have only one person to rely on for their emotional stability. Plus, how intertwined spouses lives become make it difficult to discuss and analyze in the same way they used to with friends.

I've really missed having friends like that. I've really missed the long, analytical conversations I used to have with friends. Now it is all bottled up inside and I don't really have anyone to talk to it about. I mean, I do. I have some good friends who I can talk to. But I'm a mom. I can't go over to a friend's house and sit up all night drinking wine and talking. It's just different. I miss that outlet. I miss that connection. I think not having that is part of the reason I'm having this outpouring of random emotion at this point in my life, because it has been bottled up.

So, having some of my oldest and dearest friends open the door to that kind of conversation again is wonderful. Whether I am the one confiding or being confided in, it is freeing. I'm getting to release that emotion through discussing "big stuff" with dear, old friends who really know me, my seedy past, whom I trust, and who really like me and care about me. I need that. It also makes me feel needed in a different way. Not in a mom way or a wife way or a professional way. In a personal way that seems separate from all this "other" stuff in my life. It is private. It is mine, between me and my oldest, dearest friends. And I also need them, so it opens the door for me to seek out their advice as I used to.

Anyway, this wasn't the most articulate piece of writing. There is a lot of background that goes with this relating to old friends and my mid-life crisis that would probably make all this more meaningful. But those blogs will have to be for another time. Here's to old friends...

"Time it was and what a time it was
It was
A time of innocence
A time of confidences
Long ago it must be
I have a photograph
Preserve your memories
There all that's left you"

Just something

Sorry to post two things on one day...this is something I wrote earlier today to myself. What the hell....

The plan was to come home and get some chores done.
The plan was to do the dishes, fold the laundry, and clean up.
The plan was not to indulge in my emotions.
The plan was not to poke and prod and write about my insides.
Looks like the plan fell through.

Sometimes I think about an alternative path, an alternative life that I could have seen unfolding for me. A life of serial monogamy in which I end up the crazy, wild, single old lady. In that life I would teach and get my "kid" fix through my students. I would travel in the summer and have an exciting life. I would continue to surround myself mostly with adolescents and teens, even as an old woman. I would inspire them and live vicariously through them. I would be happy and sad and lonely and excited and grateful just like I am in this life. It would just be different.

I guess the new plan is to get used to cycles of longing and to live my life as well as I can. The new plan is to find the moments that make this life special and to continue to indulge in the fantasy of fiction to appease the longing, as much as it can. Or maybe, to exacerbate the longing, which is just another form of indulgence.

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Why

I've been wanting to start a blog for awhile now. In the past I've used "notes" on facebook a few times to blog. But, I don't really want everyone on facebook to see everything I write. I also don't want to go through the trouble of picking some friends and not others who can "see" it. And, I don't want to be so presumptious as to assume who would even give a shit about reading my bullshit. However, of the people that might be interested, there are some I want to read it. Why? Do I want responses or validation? No, not really. In the past I have written "blogs" that only I can see. Why isn't that enough if the writing is just to get it out, to express it? I don't know, there is a greater sense of purging if I know there is an audience, that someone else just saw it. In fact, in some ways I don't really want a lot of response. I don't want sympathy or problem solvers. That's not what it is about. It's just knowing that someone else out there knows. That maybe they do relate or it validates something they feel and they can privately, I don't know, feel that gift without us having to actually communicate about it.

I guess I also want *some* people to know who I am. I mean, the people I would feel comfortable reading this, for the most part, are people who do know who I am. But I guess I just want them to have greater, more private insight in a way that doesn't feel uncomfortable because we don't actually have to talk about it.

Anyway, I still haven't figured out how I'm going to let the people that I would actually be ok with reading this know about. My fear is looking self-absorbed. I'm a little insecure in that part of me thinks that no one really gives a shit to hear my internal musings and to even put the blog out there might seem like I expect these people to focus on me when everyone has their own lives and their own shit to focus on. But I do know that I have enjoyed reading other people's blogs. I have one, I guess acquaintance is the more fitting word, who writes a blog that I love to read. She is so honest and raw and makes herself vulnerable by really saying what she feels. And I feel I've been given the gift from her that I expressed wanting to give others above. So, I don't know. Maybe people are curious.

So, that's it for now. I don't know why I have become so worried or embarrassed about sentimentality, emotions, and vulnerability in my old age. I used to wear my heart on my sleeve and I didn't give a shit about people who would put me down for it. I think it may be that growing up curse. We lose truth. We lose imaginiation. We stop playing. We squelch pure, raw emotion. I guess that is why I DON'T WANT TO GROW UP! And I guess that is why I enjoy haning out with kids and teens so much more than most adults.

Oh yeah, I said that was it, so I guess I should stop writing.