101 in 1001

I heard about the “101 in 1001″ challenge a while back, and decided to start working on my list right away but to wait and officially start it on New Year’s Day. Then I found this LiveJournal community devoted to other people who are working on their own lists at the same time.

So, instead of my usual revolving-door list of New Year’s Resolutions, I thought I would tackle this idea. Basically, I created a list of 101 things I’d like to accomplish within the next 1001 days (by September 28th, 2010). I divided mine into categories because I’m an OCD freak like that. I’m already excited about managing the list… I’ll probably bold the items that are in progress and strike the items that are accomplished. If I can get it all done, I think I’ll be a better person in a lot of ways.

Care to join in?

Hunting Update

Well, the job at the church looks like it won’t work. I didn’t realize that this satellite campus is an outreach sort of location; it’s in a rough area of town and in my phone “pre-interview,” the woman who currently holds the positioned mentioned how I ought to handle being approached by the drunk or homeless persons on my way toward the building from the parking lot. That little tidbit alarmed Gruff to no end – especially in light of her caution that I wouldn’t be able to come in and work in the evenings (when he’s home to watch Smooch) as they don’t want anyone working in the evenings and never, ever is anyone to be alone in the building; which meant that I’d be taking Smooch with me in order to work there a few mornings a week. He vetoed it completely.

I called my parents to vent and mope, and my dad (himself a former educator, now techie-type for his local school system) mentioned that I should think about tutoring through one of those Big Chain Learning Centers. What genius! I’d been approaching the idea of tutoring only as a sole-person venture. But those BCLCs, they stay open in the evenings and weekends. People bring their kids there. And they use a lot of part-timers to fill their busy schedules. I decided it was worth a try.

 This afternoon, when I put Smooch down for a nap, I updated my resume and printed out a copy along with a photocopy of my National Board Certificate. I took a shower, did a lovely blow-out, put on makeup, and my best attempt at a cute casual-yet-professional ensemble (sleek boots, the perfect jeans, and a sweater-and-button-down combo).  I headed out toward the BCLC, and got a little bit lost in the endless rows of “professional complex” buildings, but I did eventually find it.

 I walked in just as two kids walked out with their dad and tutor close behind. Another woman stood behind them, and clearly wasn’t leaving. She was young – probably my age – and pregnant, and she asked, “Can I help you?”

“Oh, yeah, um, I was wondering if you know if y’all are accepting applications for new tutors?”

She said that she was (note that emphasis… it turns out this young thing runs the place!) and she was actually calling about 50 applicants in a few days, so it was good I’d come in today. I dropped my resume (ever the klutz) in trying to hand it to her, and then she asked about my background.

“Well, I’m a National Board Certified teacher, elementary, and taught for five years. I took some time off when my son was born, and now I’m afraid of going broke looking for something part-time, you know, less intense than the full classroom scene.”

Meanwhile, she was looking over my rez. “I’m looking for people who can work with the little ones…” We shared a moment about how it takes “a special person” to work with middle schoolers and a different “special person” to work with preschoolers. I felt like she was genuinely happy that I had walked in.  Then she continued, motioning toward the papers in her hand, “…and what I’m seeing so far is really exciting!” (Internal: woo-hoo!) “I’ll definitely give you a call on Monday and set up an interview.” (Internal: holy crap, great!) She gave me her card and we said our goodbyes.

Now I just wait to see if my scheduling and availabilty limitations will be a deal-breaker. Do me a favor? Send some prayers, or good thoughts, or positive energy, or whatever you like, my way. At the moment I have no idea what the pay scale is like at this place, or how many hours she’d be able to offer me.

 But I’m hopeful. And I’m feeling very positive. In a way, I’m actually energized – with thoughts of working with students again, with thoughts of how I’ll have to get organized and stay on top of things to pull this off, with thoughts of how good it will be for Gruff to be the primary caregiver for a while (wink, wink – he might appreciate my job a little more, you know?)

The Hunt is On

I can hardly believe it, but I’m looking for a job. You’d think that the whole “married to a doctor” thing would mean a life of ease and abundance, but no. In fact, it actually seems to mean a life of major loans, major credit cards, and car problems. We seemed to have more money back in medical school – but then, I was working full-time and Gruff brought home a few thousand a year from “surplus” on his school loans. Now, Gruff is working full-time and making just a little bit more than I did as a teacher, and I’m not bringing in anything to our finances.

I’ve been wracking my brain. Tutoring? I’m uber-qualified, but I think the logistics keep this off the table. If I tutor here, during the hours I’m Smooch-free (aka, naptime), I have no idea what students would be available from 1:00-3:00. (Although, as I type this, I’m wondering: college students? There’s a thought…) If I tutor here during after-school hours, I don’t think Smooch would take well to being sequestered in another room while I work at the table with a student. And if I tutor elsewhere, I’d cut my “income” in half by paying for a babysitter. It would be hard to base a tutoring schedule around Gruff’s schedule, because his hours are totally at the whim of the patients and surgeries they have on any given day. Writing? I’d love it, but it looks like gettting started on that will be largely a pro-bono, good-way-to-practice-your-skills venture for a long time before it ever turns a profit. Nannying or babysitting? While it might bring in cash, and while it would probably be easy, I don’t know if I want to do something that would so clearly impact Smooch’s life and schedule. Going from the center of Mommy’s attention to one of two (or more, oh the horror!) kids in the house would be really different. And there are logistics issues there, too — would I be stuck at home all day? Could I still go to my playgroups and story times and run my errands with someone else’s child? What would I do if the client’s kid didn’t nap? Oy. That option is still on a back-burner as the next possibility.

 There’s an announcement in our church bulletin that has caught my eye. We attend a big church that has two or three “satellite” campuses. One of the smaller locations is in need of a part-time custodian. It’s advertised as a 10-15 per hour a week job. I have no idea what it pays or what exact tasks are involved, but I put in an email and I have a phone date arranged for later this afternoon to speak to the woman who is currently the temporary custodian. From my experience in other, small churches, I’m guessing that it will be a pretty simple routine — probably tidying the sanctuary or worship space from old bulletins and gum wrappers, vacuuming, dusting or wiping down the pews, cleaning the bathroom(s), and cleaning the kitchen if they have one. My hope is that it will be a flexible job, one that I can do at different times of day from week to week, basing it around Gruff’s availability to stay here with Smooch (or even, taking Smooch with me occasionally; if I wear him on my back in the Ergo carrier I can do almost all of the chores I mentioned). If that’s the case — if they don’t require that the custodian be there from 5-6 pm every day, and as long as it’s all done before Sunday’s services they don’t really care — then it should work out really well. Even if it pays minimum wage, that’s a couple of hundred bucks every month (which means I can get the car paid off sooner rather than later, and maybe start tackling some of our credit card debt more aggresively).

Gruff’s first comment when I told him I wanted to look into this custodial position was, “Aren’t you overqualified for that?” Well, yes. I guess I am. “You’re a National Board Certified Teacher for goodness’ sake!” Yeah, I am. And I’m proud of that. But right now, I can’t teach because I’m not ready to consider putting Smooch in daycare. I’m not too good to work with my hands, especially if it keeps our budget afloat and keeps me at home during the majority of Smooch’s waking hours.

If this doesn’t work out, my next course of action will be pursuing a nannying or regular babysitting job. If I can’t make that work, my final resort will be working at a nursery school or preschool where Smooch can be just down the hall from me.

To be honest, it’s a little bit depressing to be considering all of this. But there’s a part of me that feels proud at the same time – I am going to do something to tackle this problem. I am going to figure out how to keep us in the black and I’m going to do what it takes to maintain the kind of family life I want.

ABCDEFizz

I know, I know, I just did an alphabet post a few days ago. But Mrs. Chicken tagged me for this alphabet meme, and I can’t say no to Mrs. C! Plus, it’s almost the end of NaBloYeahYeahWeGetItAlready and I’m feeling a little drained of new ideas.

So the rules are that you must use each letter of the alphabet to generate a word that describes you. The words must be positive. No “L is for Lame”, “G is for Grumpy”. You must link to your tagger and your taggees. Now here we go!

I think I’m: Attached, Brainy, Craftsy, Decisive, Exuberant, Faithful, Genial, Hardworking, Introspective, Joyful, Kindhearted, Loyal, Merciful, Neighborly, Orderly, Petite, Quizzical, Reflective, Sentimental, Traditional, Unencumbered, Valiant, Whimsical, X-chromosomal, Yielding, and Zealous.

And I tag Creative-Type Dad and WhyMommy. Now, three cheers for the alphabet!

The Job of a Lifetime

I love my job as a mother. For years, I’ve known that I wanted to bear and raise children. I love the fact that my degree in early childhood education gives me an “academic” perspective on these years, while my own experience and my mother’s heart gives me a “personal” perspective. It’s important to me to be the primary caregiver for my child in his formative years, and right now I’m planning to remain at home with him through the primary grades. I’m happy at home, for the most part, other than those occasional days we all have.

I feel that I should clarify that before you read what I’m about to write, because I really don’t want to get any comments like, “Well, you know, if that’s what you want to do with your life, why did you have a kid anyway?”

Ex silentio, narratio

Do you know what I love best about the library?

Sure, it allows me to bring a big mug of steaming hot coffee from my favorite place in the whole wide world. But that’s not it.

It has a great children’s section, with weekly story times for the Smooch and an awesome collection of books, magazines, DVDs, and more. But that’s not it.

There are three dozen computers in the bay, plus a free wireless connection for those of us nerds who pack our own. We’re getting close, but that’s not it.

My favorite thing about my library is the silence. The blissful, peaceful, respectful silence of a place full of books and people.

Do you know how much of my day encompasses silence? Not.a.lot.at.all.thank.you.very.much. Toddlers are not so charmed by the concept of quiet. Turns out, grown-up husbands usually aren’t either. And so most of my day is occupied by noise.

And that’s really okay. I wouldn’t trade anything for the ability to hear my baby laugh. The sound of his voice is priceless to me. My purring cats, the hum of the dishwasher, the sing-along jingly corniness of “The Backyardigans,” the soundtrack of “Halo3” and “BioShock,” the ringing of the telephone, water splashing in the bathtub, leaves crunching in the backyard. They all add up to the soundtrack of my life.

But sometimes? I can not think. Even though I’m a pretty smart girl with a good vocabulary, when I sit down with a notebook or a keyboard, the words will not come. At first, I thought the problem was that I just didn’t have anything left to say. All talked out, as it were. But during one (quiet) naptime hour, I sat down with an old college-rule spiral notebook and dashed off ideas of blog fodder for at least a dozen posts. In the days that followed, I sat with my handy-dandy notebook at my side… and froze.

The muse has left me, I decided. Mrs. C. and I have been throwing this idea around for a few weeks. How do you blog when you are juggling the rest of your life? When you are struggling to find the balance between private life and internet life? When you have so much to say but can’t say anything at all? And then, on one of Gruff’s on-call nights, Smooch went to bed early. Four hours of uninterrupted (quiet) time stretched before me, and I decided to sit down and try to write –something, anything, even if it all ends up in the desktop trash bin—and what do you know? Two complete posts and a third in the words by the evening’s end.

Here’s my new theory. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, or anything valuable to contribute to what I see around me. It’s not that I’ve lost my ability to reason and process ideas that don’t relate to potty training and language development and breastfeeding. It’s not that at all.

It’s simply that I can’t think with all this noise in my head! Just like some nights it takes me an hour to fall asleep because of all the garbage swirling around in my brain not letting me rest, some days I can’t write to save my life because of all the ambient noise that pulls my focus away from the words I’m trying to put together.

Which brings me to the library. Literally. For two weeks I’ve been attempting to get away to the library for a little while. Even a single hour can be more productive than I knew. Today, for instance, Gruff is home post-call. He’s sleeping, and so is Smooch. My boy has such a predictable nap pattern, I’m certain he’ll be out for about two hours, so (with the baby monitor on near Gruff’s head, just in case) I slipped out the door. I grabbed a coffee and pulled into the library’s parking lot. A peace, a calm, swept over me as the doors wooshed open. It’s a weekend day, so most of the tables are taken, but there’s a comfy chair over here by the windows.

I settle in and determine, once again, to write. Something. Anything. It might not become much at all, but then again, as the noise evaporates around me, the clarity comes back. So maybe I can write something worth reading after all.

It’s All in the Jeans

This is a stereotypical complaint, but I can’t help myself. I have to type it.

Why is it so hard to find a decent pair of jeans that don’t cost as much as my first apartment’s rent?

I’m short (5’2″). I’m at a pretty healthy weight right now (132 lbs., with my ideal being 125). But I have post-enormous-pregnant-belly stretchmarks and irreparable skin. (I’m not posting pictures. You know what I’m talking about, you’ve seen Dr. 90210. Moving on.) I have a lot of trouble finding jeans in my price range (I have a really, really hard time understanding why people pay more than $50 for jeans. I usually stick to the $25-30 jeans myself. But I’d consider a $50 pair, I think.) that are also a good fit. If they fit my inseam, they are usually much too tight in the seat and waist for my new mommy proportions. If they fit in the tummy and butt, then they drag the ground even if I wear stilletos. Which, seriously? Is just never going to happen. And then you have to decide on a shade of blue, or a wash, or do you want colors?, or which type of pockets won’t make you look like a Mack Truck from behind, and do you want that feathering or whiskering or whatever they call it that sort of resembles big arrows pointing to your you-know-what, and I honestly just don’t understand that at all.

I have had 2 pairs of jeans that are were well-worn, well-loved, and well over three years old. I’m thrilled that they fit me again after losing my pregnancy weight, but alas! Both pairs now have holes in the knee. So I’m on the quest for new jeans, and I hate it. I ordered a pair that *should be* an exact replica of one of the old favorites, but you never know until you get them. What if they’ve changed their sizing? What if my old ones say “8″ but they aren’t a true 8 anymore from years of washing and wearing and stretching (very possible, by the way) so the new “8″s will actually be too small? What if they added stretch to the denim or took it out? The ways this could go wrong are endless.

I bought a second new pair today at the mall. They were on sale from $40, marked down to $21. They have cute pockets, a great color, just a little bit of stretch (to illustrate, they fit well in the dressing room at 10 a.m., and still fit comfortably when I got home after Chinese buffet lunch at 1:00. That’s awesome!) and fit perfectly in the waist and tush. They are also about four inches too long. I’m trying to decide whether to attempt to hem them myself, or to find a tailor to do it for me. (I’m trying to convince myself that even if I pay a tailor to hem them, they’ll still be a good deal since they were on sale to begin with. Also, have never hemmed jeans before in my life and am a bit afraid that I will ruin them.)

Luckily – I guess – we’re having a major hot spell here so I don’t actually need any jeans at all. I have plenty of time to figure all this out. And once I do….

no jean shopping for at least three years. Wheeeee!

A Lesson From Walnut Grove

TiVo loves me. And it’s discovered some of my favorite things, even without my help. It brings me little presents: a gingerbread house championship! Reruns of Designing Women! And the early years of Little House on the Prairie!

(I don’t like the older stuff, once Melissa Gilbert was a young teacher and they brought in Almanzo and his sister. I just prefer the episodes when Mary & Laura were girls, and their biggest problems were dealing with Nellie “Stick Up My Butt” Oleson.)

Today TiVo brought me the episode when the Doc tells Charles that scarlet fever has affected the nerves of Mary’s eyes, and it’s only a matter of time until she goes blind. At first Charles is in denial, and refuses to tell his oldest girl the diagnosis. Then Mary accidentally sets fire to the dining room floor, and he has to face up to it. He prays in the little schoolhouse/church and the reverend counsels him about how sometimes we pray and pray, and God answers in a way we don’t like or in a way we don’t understand.

Charles eventually tells Mary, and they cry together. For those of us who’ve read the books (or still liked the series once the girls grew up!), we know that things are going to work out for Mary. After all, there’s a beautiful man in her future who will love her very much. There’s a rewarding career at a school for the blind. She’s going to be okay, and more than that, she’s going to be happy and content.

But in that scene, watching Mary with her Pa, my heart just aches for the pain of every parent who has to tell their child that the doctor had bad news; that the cancer has come back; that the tests were positive; that the treatments didn’t work; that more surgery will be needed; that they can’t leave the hospital just yet.

When I was Christmas shopping, one store made a point to ask me to donate to St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital. I did donate, and I wish it could have been more. This is fortunately one of those areas in life where a lot of people do a little bit – and it adds up. Maybe it’s the mommy hormones, and maybe it’s the Christmas tenderness. These kids are on my heart tonight, so I want to take a minute to pray for all of those parents, and all of those kids. If you’re reading this, I hope you’ll do the same.

Stress Buster

Dear Mommy Readers,

Are you having one of those stressed out days? The baby pooped all over his brand-new outfit just as you got him posed for that perfect holiday-card picture? The cat threw up on the front hallway rug, and you didn’t notice until it was all over your sock? You still need to find the perfect gift for a brother-and-sister-in-law with whom you barely ever talk, so not only do you not know what they need, you don’t even know what they like? Your resourceful husband decided to fix himself something to eat, rather than ask you for help, and managed to consume three of the four ingredients for one of your favorite holiday dishes? You opened your box of Christmas decorations and discovered moths, mice, or mold amongst your treasured trinkets? You managed to volunteer to bake cookies, deliver food baskets, and pass out bulletins for the special service all on the same day?

I found a sure-fire way to put a smile back on your face. Go pop some bubble wrap!

http://www.virtual-bubblewrap.com/index.shtml

And I highly recommend a nice Eggnog Latte to go with it… but that’s just me.
http://www.starbucks.com

Love,
NewDotMom

Who Do You Spend Your Week With?

What do you think, should I cheer this place up a bit? I hang out with a lot of peeps. I mean, it is like Party Central around here, what with the in-absentia surgery resident hubby, and the goes-to-bed-at-5:30 kiddo. I wonder if we have any mutual friends? Here’s who I hang out with on a regular basis:

On Sundays it’s a big sleepover with Eric, Annie, Matt, Sarah, Mary, Carlos, Charlie, Lucy, Kevin, Savannah, Simon, Ruthie, Sam, & David; Lynette, Tom, Susan, Mike, Julie, Bree, Orson, Gabrielle, & Carlos; Saul, Nora, Kitty, Sarah, Joe, Kevin, Justin, & Holly.

Then every Monday I play ball with Hiro, Mohinder, Simone, Isaac, Peter, Nathan, Niki, D.L., Micah, Matt, Claire, & H.R.G.

Of course there’s a weekly dinner party on Tuesdays with Lorelai, Rory, Logan, Christopher, Luke, April, Richard, Emily, Lane, Zach, Brian, Michel, & Sookie; Veronica, Keith, Logan, Mac, Wallace, Piz, Parker, Dick, & Weevil.

I’m always happy to see Wednesdays roll around, so that I can spend a little QT with my pals Johnston, Gail, Jake, Eric, Emily, Heather, Dale, & Robert; and Jordan, Jake, Matt, Danny, Harriet, Tom, Cal, & Simon.

By Thursday I am so ready to dish with Meredith, Derek, George, Izzie, Preston, Christina, Miranda, Addison, Mark, Callie, & Alex; and Betty, Ignacio, Hilda, Justin, Daniel, Wilhemina, Marc, Amanda, Christina, & Bradford.

I get serious on Friday and debate serious cultural and political affairs with John, Elizabeth, Jim, Martin, Juju, Deborah, & Barbara.

And thanks to modern conveniences, I get to buddy up every day with Cliff, Claire, Sondra, Denise, Theo, Vanessa, & Rudy; Blanche, Dorothy, Sophia, and Rose; Julia, Suzanne, Charlene, & Mary Jo; Paul, Jamie, Ira, Fran, Mark, Burt, Sylvia, & Mabel; and Reba, Brock, Barbra Jean, Van, Cheyenne, Elizabeth, Kyra, Jake, & Henry.