Showing posts from November, 2013

In which it turns out that I am not, in fact, Superwoman

I've gotten the "Superwoman" or "Supermom" compliment from several people in the past few months, and of course, it is nice to hear.  But compliment me on it no longer, for I no longer can wear that mantle.
It's now been officially announced to those in the school community where I work that I am no longer teaching there. I voluntarily resigned this week, as I was no longer able to perform my duties to the high level to which I hold myself as a teacher.  I guess I couldn't hack it as a full-time teacher (although to be fair, being a teacher at my school means designing your own curriculum for all of your classes, not working from a purchased curriculum, and I had 4+ classes to create) AND a mom of a 3.5 year old, 1.5 year old, and 1 month old AND a wife AND a functional human being.
The last part is not a joke.  During my week back every day I came a little bit more unglued.  My forty minute commutes turned into cry sessions.  I could keep it together …

The Answer to the Question is Yes.

"Was it hard to leave your baby this morning so you could come back to school?"


Yes, it was.

I've done it before; I've dropped three month old Ruby off at daycare early each morning and picked her up late in the afternoon.  When Max was six weeks old I left him and Ruby in Whitney's capable hands at the house we all shared.  And this morning I dropped Max and Ben off at their new babysitter's house.  Thankfully, Max was just fine with it all and went to go play without missing a beat and Ben is too small to think about it one way or another (that I know of).  But my heart, once again, felt bruised as I walked out the door and got into my car.

I prayed a repetitious rosary all the way to school.  I smiled bravely and thanked all who welcomed me back.  The day happened and I felt like I had been dumped into the deep end of an ice cold pool and was desperately trying to keep my head above water.

When a teacher takes some time off, be it a day or weeks or…

Puerto Rico, you lovely island...

Bonus points to the commenter who knows whence the title comes. 
As you may have guessed, the "country" for our date tonight was Puerto Rico.  Okay, so it isn't technically a country; more like a commonwealth/territory of the United States.  I learned a few fun facts about it, such as the fact that Puerto Rico shares our president but no one there gets a say in choosing said president.  They have their own congress which they elect themselves, yet historically the United States congress is the one calling the real shots in terms of major legislature.  Sounds a bit like when we were a colony of England, and we didn't much care for that "virtual representation." Also, the unofficial national animal is the coqui, a frog which is (and here I quote Wikipedia) "endemic to Puerto Rico."  Puerto Rico is Spanish for "rich port" and Columbus originally wanted to name the island San Juan Batista.  That name only stuck to its capital city and the …

Grouchy mom day

I was a cranky grouch today with my children and they responded accordingly.  It really is true, I have observed, that when Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.  Granted, sometimes the kids are going to be grumpy and irascible even if I'm maintaining my good mood...but they are always worse if I get peeved with them.  Count on it.  It makes sense.  Moods are contagious, especially bad ones.  I catch the bad mood from them, and then it goes back to them even worse.  It's hard to maintain and model the kind of actions and attitude I want to see in them, and the same goes with teaching.
That is why it kind of sucks to be my husband right now.  Or more accurately, next week, when I go back to work.  I have to be at the top of my game, so to speak, with my middle schoolers all day.  I then want to be as "on" as I can be with my own children when I pick them up from preschool (in Ruby's case) and the babysitter's (in Max's and Ben's case) and use …

Beginning the attempt to do my marriage a WORLD of good...

It seems as though just about every relationship guru out there, whether religious or secular, is always promoting the idea of a couple having regular date nights to make sure the relationship is progressing along nicely.  I can tell you that while I wholeheartedly applaud the idea and believe in it in a theoretical way, in practice it has become quite hit or miss for us.  I guess that isn't surprising when you take into account our circumstances: three small children with the small budget to match and not a lot of free time.  Going out for dinner and a movie every weekend is plain out of the question; going ANYWHERE is difficult because it takes some arranging with someone to come and watch the kids.  So that pretty much leaves at home dates after the kids are in bed, and that usually boils down to watching a movie.  Strike usually boils down to something like this:

The Scene: our apartment, Friday or Saturday night, 7 PM.  
Jenny: (closing the door of the kids' roo…

This is 30 (with blast-from-the-past pictures!)

I turned 30 on Friday, November 1st (and Ben turned 4 weeks old that day as well).
When I was little, I used to expect to wake up on my birthday feeling somehow different because I was now a year older.  I especially expected it on my 10th birthday, because it signified that I was leaving the single digit ages forever and would likely be in the double digits for the rest of my life, unless I turned out to live very long indeed! Yet on that 10th birthday I felt much the same as I had felt the day before.  It was a bit disappointing.  Again on the eve of my 13th birthday, I expected (although more dubiously) to feel a bit different as I entered the new milestone of being a teenager, and again on my natal day I felt no sudden change.  The same sort of thing happened at 16 (now I can drive!)  and 18 (now I can vote!  and smoke! and buy shrink-wrapped magazines! Or not...) and even at 20 (a new decade!) and 21 (now I can finally have a glass of champagne at a waltz party...wait a minute, …

Halloween Round Up

This post will be pretty sparse because, alas, all of my pictures from Halloween got deleted accidentally by a family member who shall remain nameless.  Sad sad.  At least Ben was still in his "costume," which was an extremely last minute homage to the first words his uncle Andy said to him: "This one looks like a caterpillar. Max looked like an old man, but he's definitely a caterpillar.  Look at that little caterpillar nose!"
 So, I decided to make a homemade caterpillar outfit out of some of Ruby's socks, plastic grocery bags to stuff them, and a little union suit of Ben's.  It took all of about 15 minutes, as you can probably discern from the pictures, but I didn't have the wherewithal to buy a real caterpillar outfit.

The night before Halloween, Allen carved a pumpkin for the kids and took their requests for what designs to carve.  Of course, by "their requests" I really mean "Ruby's requests."  Max is too taciturn as …