Does He Have a Garden?

So I went to France and very nearly had a torrid foreign affair - unfortunately it only existed in the imagination of the 13 year old girls who I was traveling with... who were sure I was meant for one of the cute young German counselors at the institute where we were staying. I'll admit if I had been at least ten years younger, I would have swooned right along with them. But when I tried to explain the difference in maturity and life-style between a 20 year old guy and a 33 year old woman, saying I am more settled with a house and garden, they simply adjusted their strategy and stared asking guys if they had gardens.

Though I eventually got tired and embarrassed about the adolescent-sized fuss over my love life, their tenacity and amazingly good taste began to convince me that if put to the task of seriously finding an age-appropriate guy for me, these girls could quite possibly get results. (I was kinda hoping the gorgeous ice cream guy in Monaco "had a garden".) So perhaps now when someone asks me about the state of my dating life, I'll just refer them to my new generation search committee for a status.

Cheez-It Based Management

Loving my job...
I am wondering how you're supposed to scold 5th grade boys for shouting "Ms. [my name here] is awesome" in the lunchroom. At least they're starting to use their powers for good instead of evil, right? They haven't been able to shut their mouths or follow directions to save their lives on Fridays in the lunchroom. And since when do we throw things or poke/punch people? But somehow at least we bonded - mostly over Cheez-Its. First someone shared a few with me when they found out my Cheez-It weakness, then someone gave me their whole bag, then some one dropped off a whole box... Pretty funny. Especially for 5th grade boys. Not that any of this helps them shut their traps in the lunchroom. But at least we enjoy one another more while they are misbehaving.

Not so much loving my job...
Super quirky Ramona Quimby-esque first grader looks up at me as if we hadn't met fifty bazillion times before and says, "You look like my teacher!" Which would be a lovely compliment... if her teacher didn't happen to be over six months pregnant with twins at the moment. Hmm. Maybe too many Cheez-Its?!

Waiting for Gilbert Blythe

I recently re-watched Anne of Green Gables the Sequel (my official excuse is girls weekend with my preteen niece, btw). Apparently, I swoon like a 12 years old girl all over again when Anne finally says yes to Gilbert on the bridge over the pond after having turned him down a year earlier when she foolishly thought she needed more glamor and romance than her small-town childhood sweetheart could give her...

I realized I might be holding out for Gilbert. The perfect handsome rival/best friend/boy next door/love of your life who is devoted to you despite knowing full well all of your faults, defenses, and silly romantic notions. The person you were supposed to be with all along, who was under your nose the whole time. Who fate handed to you. Complete fantasy?! Possibly.

Regardless, it's a far cry from online profiles, blind dates, messy break-ups, and running into a former flame for the first time since you parted ways only when you've gained ten pounds, have a cold, and haven't showered in two days.

My new approach to finding love: let other people do the dirty work for me. I'm recruiting a few select moms from school to find the love of my life for me. I'm picking good people who know good people... who might know a Gilbert-like adorable well-grounded guy, right? I am choosing these agents carefully, of course - the few down-to-earth parents who I'd hand my own children over to in a minute because they'd probably do a much better job than I could, who are socially connected but for all the right reasons.

We'll see how that goes or doesn't go for a while. Meanwhile I have a few other things to attend to...

Why I Love My Job #216

At the beginning of every year we take the new 8th graders to "Leadership Camp" for ropes course and community building activities (and for handstands, volleyball, and finding out who is going out with whom). I get to use my outdoor education experience and stretch my wings building an experiential program for the kids I know so well in another context. Every year I feel simultaneously exhilarated and exhausted by my worlds coming together. Like I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing. But it makes me so tired that I can't imagine teaching kids full time (God bless those of you who do).

New this year to my ever-expanding job, I have an Advisory of nine exuberant 7th grade girls who come to my room 30 minutes every day to get organized, talk about social and emotional life, and bond as a group with an adult they trust. Basically all of my favorite things. So suddenly I'm filled with professional inspiration. Staying up late reading research, writing plans for relational aggression lessons, getting advice from teachers, parents, and counselors, energized and excited to try things, lots of love and patience for students...

It occurs to me: isn't that supposed to be what you do when you get a degree in all this stuff? But I'm more that a little gun-shy when it comes to graduate school. You can only drop out miserable from so many institutions of higher learning before you begin to loath the thought of opening yourself up to torture again. Am I finally really personally invested in what I want to learn? Enough to outweigh the old paralyzing perfectionism? If so, how and where? Teaching certification/masters? Finish the school counseling degree?

Despite uncertainty about the particulars, it seems like I might have to consider giving in to that teaching degree I've been trying so hard to avoid. And maybe happily. Hard to fight with that feeling of doing what you are meant to do.

Why I Love My Job #163

Third grader Maggie unexpectedly pops her head into my office and says: "I have no idea why I'm running in the hall with no shoes!"

Um. Me neither. Thanks, Maggie.

The Sass

So I got a sassy new hair cut...
And it seems to have gone to my head. Or I'm just doing really well with resolution #1 this year.

Things that the old "nice girl" filter used to catch are instead flying out of my mouth.

First, I opened my big mouth at work when I experienced more of the completely predictable yet totally surprising antics of parents (wanting me to help them bend the rules). I was outraged by the repeat offense of a particular family who never think the rules apply to them. So I shot my mouth off in a classic unprofessional manner, telling anyone who would listen, including everyone in charge. As if I am a paragon of virtue. I immediately regretted it once I calmed down a little.

Then, in the everyday tangle of normal group social dynamics, I made a poorly executed attempt to bring things out into the open after a few of us had been comparing notes about feeling left out. I waltzed over to a group of coworker-friends and said, "Just so you know, we have a bet that you four will sit together at these meetings." (i.e., nice job being exclusive). Which was overstating the level of discussion that had gone on about where they did or did not sit and who they included or not, and I felt awful as soon as the words flew out of my mouth. Of course, they were taken aback and mildly defensive.

Later, after enduring the entire meeting with my heart sliding down to my feet, I went back over, formally apologized, and tried to compliment them with a Sex and the City comparison. It seemed to help clear the air a little, but I still felt awkward.

Then, a relatively new coworker who had been slow to warm to us all was telling me a story about a frustratingly stand-offish parent. My coworker explained how she thought it was so unnecessary that this parent responded in a put-off manner when she was trying to make friendly conversation about their mutual love for their cute little dogs. And I looked straight at my coworker and just had to say, "It is so funny that you're telling that story because that was exactly my experience of you!"

I couldn't help it. It was the truth just hanging there in the air between us! Luckily, she took it relatively well.

Finally, I walked in late to a volunteer project with a few people I know well, but many I don't know at all, and practically immediately, details about my underwear come shooting out of my mouth. (For some reason, I was telling them about my friend who thinks I am still single because I don't wear a thong. To which, btw, I insist that I find lovely pieces that are both attractive and functional. Tyvm.) I think later I also announced how much money I make (or don't make)...

Breaking free? Or falling apart. We'll have to see.

Why I Love My Job #147

Me: Quiet down back there, you crazy kids. You are getting too loud!

Good-natured middle school Ski Bus participant: Have you ever considered that you are too quiet?

Me: Well, no one has ever accused me of THAT before! Probably, you should just reel it in a little.

Kid: Yeah, you're probably right.

This, on the heels of the best ever Sound of Music Ski Bus Sing-a-long(!!). And getting paid to ski... Sometimes, I don't hate my life. :)

25 Things

There's a chain-letter like activity spreading like crazy through Facebook called "25 Random Things About Me". When someone sends it to you, you write a list of 25 random facts, habits, or goals about yourself. Then you send it to 25 friends, including the person who sent it you. It's a big online "get to know you" game.

Unlike many other viral fads, most people are actually doing it. Something about the format and the popularity make it worth the effort. I think we want to share ourselves. And there is beauty in the mundane details. Every list I've read has something delightfully surprising about the person and something that makes me feel a little less alone in my "hidden" foibles and neuroses. Here's my 25:

1. My greatest fear is going crazy/losing my mind/losing touch with reality. I honestly worry about it happening to me. And then I panic that I might really make it happen by worrying about it too much...

2. I’ve kept a list of favorite kids’ names since I was 12 (even through my phase when I wasn't sure I wanted kids), but I've started using them on pets (and cars) just in case I never get to use them on kids.

3. I am at my most content on the way back down a mountain with a happy dog at my side.

4. I have always wanted to be a foster parent.

5. I don’t think I like my cats (Oliver and Violet) as much as I should. I take their rejection personally.

6. I take everything personally. Or at least I used to.

7. I hate talking on the phone; I rarely answer it and often don’t call people back (please don't take it personally!).

8. I love Facebook because I can communicate with lots of wonderful people without the pressure of having to actually talk to them. And I love blogging because I can pour my heart out without the immediate risk of judgment or rejection. Yes, I hide behind technology. But I used to just hide, so I see this as major progress.

9. I really enjoy picking my nose.

10. I’ve watched General Hospital on and off for about 15 years, at times taping it daily.

11. I love to sing Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now” to my cabins/tents of kids at lights out, but I’m always terrified when I start it. Then they always love it (or at least don’t complain) which gives me faith in sharing your heart.

12. My favorite movie is easily Dirty Dancing. But one of my other favorites, the Philadelphia Story, is the one I usually claim in public.

13. I think there’s nothing in the world like someone sticking up for you.

14. I am often simultaneously confident that I know everything and convinced that I am completely wrong about everything.

15. I usually cry whenever I see someone else tear up. But I often have trouble crying when I am upset.

16. I'll drink champagne for any reason from celebration to misery.

17. My glory days seem to have been breaking summer swim league records as an 8 & under and starring in my middle school musicals. Oh, and winning Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie tickets in a hula-hoop contest at a St. Bridget’s dance in 6th grade - that was rad.

18. What I want to “do” with my life changes weekly, sometimes daily. Currently rotating between school counselor (again), art teacher, and interior designer. Or dream job: children's book author/illustrator.

19. I am very grateful that I love my current job so I have some time to maybe figure out what's next.

20. I wish people would ask me more questions, especially about the challenging things in my past.

21. I’ve been in love 3 times. And still love each of them.

22. I’ve never broken a bone or had a cavity (yet).

23. I’ve always wanted glasses for their fun fashion accessory potential.

24. I am afraid of the dark, and I have to sleep with a light on in the hall.

25. I am a often paralyzed by perfectionism (and typed this list in Word first).

Go ahead, make your own list... everyone is doing it!

Reasons Not to Do Acrobatics in Your Office

...unless you are an actual acrobat, I suppose. But even then, you probably don't rehearse in an office...

I have a wonderful student who comes to eat lunch with me every other week. We spend some quality time together, and I try to exercise my half of a counseling degree (don't worry, she's only allowed to tell me half her problems). This particular young lady happens to be passionate about gymnastics, so our conversation often goes in that direction. Somehow, our joint enthusiasm about handstands led to a knowingly unwise decision to demonstrate my favorite handstand technique. Unfortunately it has been months since I practiced them on a regular basis. And yes, I fell in a pile on the hardwood floor of my office. So now I have a grumpy left shoulder and an angry hand that won't be able to set at volleyball practice. OW!

A little pain I can deal with, especially after seeing old family friends who just wrote a book about living with Cystic Fybrosis. Although it is amazing how humbling even a small injury is for me, and it always reminds me how much I take for granted.

The real problem is living with the repeated task of explaining my poor judgment. (People have asked about the involuntary groaning.) If only I didn't feel the need to maintain that pesky integrity, I would come up with a cause of injury far more appropriate in a professional environment. Or at least something more glamorous.

But I'm told that I provided a wonderful model of vulnerability and imperfection to my young friend. Well, you know - I try.

Note: Adjacent photo is my attempt to prove that I have indeed been capable of such acrobatics in the recent past. I swear.

Losing it over cheese (and believing in God for a few minutes)

I was sick all last week - feeling so bad that I even temporarily lost the will to blog [gasp]. Along with feeling physically down, it gets frustrating to be vulnerable and emotionally complicated to call in sick. I feel guilty, worry they'll think I'm lazy and faking it, wonder if I really should just suck it up and deal with it, worry people would be mad that I was spreading my germs if I went in... that internal battle in itself is exhausting.

And then making my way back into the land of the living was difficult. My group was in charge of providing snack for the weekly staff meeting. As we all volunteered our ideas via group email, I volunteered to get bottles of water and sparkly water from Costco since I had to go way up north anyway. But then someone suggested that I get cheese along with the water. I'm not sure how it happened, but for some reason the idea of having to track down cheese nearly put me over the edge. Maybe it was just that it wasn't my idea, and I wasn't feeling like I had the internal resources to do anything that wasn't on my own terms. People tried to tell me I could get cheese at Costco, but I was picturing only the mega-loaf. I didn't think we wanted that kind of cheese or that kind of investment in cheese. Someone tried to continue the conversation with me at lunch, and I had to leave the room before I started crying.

Part of me could see that this would probably be a temporary feeling, since I am usually pretty agreeable doing whatever needs to get done to in this kind of group situation. But I couldn't mentally adjust no matter what I did. So I told them I couldn't handle it. And somebody kind of let me off the hook, so I felt a little better.

I made my way to Costco, and I saw that there are tons of cheese choices. And I felt momentarily generous enough to buy a lovely little party platter. I felt good leaving the store, having gotten that and several other things taken care of. As I was loading my car, I wedged my clutch/wallet in the front of the cart for safekeeping, despite very clearly thinking, "That's dangerous; I could totally see myself forgetting that there." And of course I did.

I realized this as I pulled up to my next stop ten minutes later. I dropped everything and zoomed back up Hwy 99 PRAYING that it would still be there. I solidly belive in greater spiritual order and meaning in the universe, but I usually shy away from the Christian labels I grew up with. It's amazing how in the moments of desperation, I go back to my roots and the big "G".

Luckily, it was right where I left it! Maybe there is a God. I took it as a sign that I should pull into PaperZone as I passed it for the second time for some fabulous scrapbooking/collage paper. I often find my higher power in creativity these days.

Case of the Mondays?

Remember how I said I loved my job? Disclaimer: not always. Too much attitude in one day breaks my spirit. Especially on a crabby crappy Monday. One of those days when I feel like a pin cushion from all the sharp things that prick me.

Why do people think they don't need to hold up their end of the bargain, yet still demand what they want?! And why do I feel so hurt by their potent insensitivity? I have decided that people from afluent origins often have a sophisticated understanding of their own power. Children and adults alike around here. They can afford more, so they expect more. And the thing is... I think they get more, regardless of price.

I'm trying to learn from it instead of just getting bitter. Why not ask for what I want, whether I think I deserve it or not?! Maybe I'd get more, too. But what would I leave in my wake?

Although, I may need to take more responsibility for my own feelings today. I did try to relive my youth this weekend, complete with a few minor self-destructive decisions. Then I dove right back into my current life. Maybe people are just being people (as they always will be), and I just need more sleep in order to not lose myself in the shuffle.

Why I love my job...

Just when I'm filled with frustration.
exhausted.
small set-backs feel like defeat.
moments away from just plain bitter.

I walk into a room of beautiful young faces.
greeted with exuberance.
playful conversation.
warmth.

my eyes soften.
a smile leaks out of my heart.
burdens evaporate a little.

I remember goodness.