I never thought I'd take sleep for granted nor did I ever think that sleep would be something I would be unable to live without or with very little.
So it took me five tries to write the above lines because I'm so very tired. Jenny hasn't been sleeping well lately and Tim and I can't figure out why.
And before you ask, yes, we've tried it; yes, we've read the book; yes, I ever asked my mother...
So last night when our exhaustion had hit its peak, we returned to the old stand-by. First Jenny and I read books for about 30 minutes until I thought she was tired enough. And then we said good night to everything in the room. And then we began the litany of other sleepers: Grandma's going night-night. Grandpa's going night-night. Aunt Natalie's going night-night. Uncle Chris is going night-night. Holly's going night-night. Gabby's going night-night. and on and on and on until I had named every family member I could and every one of you from Facebook. According to Jenny's bedtime routine last night, ya'll were going to bed.
And there was peace for 10 hours last night. Thank goodness for sleep.
So tonight, after a battling day at school, we did it again. Last night the routine took about 70 minutes. Tonight is was about an hour. I hope to get her down to 20 minutes just in time for the time change in October or November. Right now, I'm too tired to remember when daylight savings time begins.
So good night to all of you. If you ask Jenny, you're all in bed by now anyway.
I'm heading there now - I hope.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
New book and I'm in love
Women, Food and Love by Geneen Roth
There are a myriad of reasons to love this book. I want to buy a thousand copies of this book and give them away to my friends and family and even to a few of my most loathsome enemies.
I love this book.
For those of us who have been torturing ourselves over the years because we've felt too ugly to too whatever to be worthy of breathing, this book tells us what we need to hear: I am not broken and there is nothing about me that needs to be fixed. And while this may be something many people take for granted, the complexity and depth of this issue has plagued everyone woman who has ever dieted. Ever.
We torture our bodies because we hope that we'll be happy. And truth be told, whatever we're trying to do with our bodies is not the thing that's going to make us happy. Happy comes first.
We have to learn to treat ourselves with the same compassion we would be treating anyone else who was torturing themselves - whether it was through drugs or suicide or guilt. When I read this and the entire logical reason people do this to themselves, I was amazed.
There are so many insightful things in this book and I can't help hoping that I can hold onto this lightness that seems to have filled me right now. If I can live a life of amazement, I think I can lose the weight (that which is truly weighing me down and that what is physically weighing me down as well) once and for all.
There are a myriad of reasons to love this book. I want to buy a thousand copies of this book and give them away to my friends and family and even to a few of my most loathsome enemies.
I love this book.
For those of us who have been torturing ourselves over the years because we've felt too ugly to too whatever to be worthy of breathing, this book tells us what we need to hear: I am not broken and there is nothing about me that needs to be fixed. And while this may be something many people take for granted, the complexity and depth of this issue has plagued everyone woman who has ever dieted. Ever.
We torture our bodies because we hope that we'll be happy. And truth be told, whatever we're trying to do with our bodies is not the thing that's going to make us happy. Happy comes first.
We have to learn to treat ourselves with the same compassion we would be treating anyone else who was torturing themselves - whether it was through drugs or suicide or guilt. When I read this and the entire logical reason people do this to themselves, I was amazed.
There are so many insightful things in this book and I can't help hoping that I can hold onto this lightness that seems to have filled me right now. If I can live a life of amazement, I think I can lose the weight (that which is truly weighing me down and that what is physically weighing me down as well) once and for all.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Crabby Transitions
Since the birth of my daughter, I have hated the end of the summer. It means no more trips to the zoo and no more lazy PJ days and no more driveway art. Instead it becomes all about getting prepared, getting it all done and getting there on time. And I hate it.
This week I will rush to make everything perfect in my new classroom so that the year will flow by smoothly and easily, without the age old conundrum of "where did I put that?" This week, I will make my room as cozy as possible, with all the cute remembrances of Jenny to keep me constantly focused on the really important parts of my life. And this week, I will cling to every last moment of summer I possibly can while at the same time trying to help Jenny through this new transition from home to babysitter and then on to preschool too.
And I'm crabby about it all. On the one side, yes, it's exciting to start a new year with new classes and a new classroom and new . . .new . . new... But on the other hand, I just don't want to do it. I don't want to leave Jenny behind, just when things were getting good. And I'm crabby about it . . . .
As brilliant as my little girl is, I know that this part of the year is difficult for her. She's fighting the change too - a new daycare situation (a familiar face, but still a change), and a new preschool to start up in September - though she loves to learn new things and will enoy making new friends, I hope. I suppose it's what makes me a little more tolerant of her insistence upon watching Nemo while she's curled up with me on the couch with a sippie cup and her blanket.
And when she gets really crabby like I do, I guess it makes me a little more sympathetic to her situation, for I too don't want to leave summer behind.
But autumn is coming - my favorite time of the year. And for the first time, I can actually begin to share that with her - the crunch of the leaves, trick or treating, the county fair. And before I know it, Thanksgiving and Christmas and snow days and Spring Break and then her birthday and another summer.
I guess my job isn't so terrible after all. The stress of the kids and the parents and the meetings and the added duties and, and, and . . . a summer with Jenny as a reward.
So for my daughter who will still be crabby for another month as she gets used to things, I will try to make the best of the time I will get in the evenings, not dwelling on the things that I am missing out on during the work day, but instead being gloriously happy for the things I do get.
This week I will rush to make everything perfect in my new classroom so that the year will flow by smoothly and easily, without the age old conundrum of "where did I put that?" This week, I will make my room as cozy as possible, with all the cute remembrances of Jenny to keep me constantly focused on the really important parts of my life. And this week, I will cling to every last moment of summer I possibly can while at the same time trying to help Jenny through this new transition from home to babysitter and then on to preschool too.
And I'm crabby about it all. On the one side, yes, it's exciting to start a new year with new classes and a new classroom and new . . .new . . new... But on the other hand, I just don't want to do it. I don't want to leave Jenny behind, just when things were getting good. And I'm crabby about it . . . .
As brilliant as my little girl is, I know that this part of the year is difficult for her. She's fighting the change too - a new daycare situation (a familiar face, but still a change), and a new preschool to start up in September - though she loves to learn new things and will enoy making new friends, I hope. I suppose it's what makes me a little more tolerant of her insistence upon watching Nemo while she's curled up with me on the couch with a sippie cup and her blanket.
And when she gets really crabby like I do, I guess it makes me a little more sympathetic to her situation, for I too don't want to leave summer behind.
But autumn is coming - my favorite time of the year. And for the first time, I can actually begin to share that with her - the crunch of the leaves, trick or treating, the county fair. And before I know it, Thanksgiving and Christmas and snow days and Spring Break and then her birthday and another summer.
I guess my job isn't so terrible after all. The stress of the kids and the parents and the meetings and the added duties and, and, and . . . a summer with Jenny as a reward.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
The swingset that made me cry
Three years ago, I never thought I'd ever get to see a swingset in my back yard. Three years ago, I never thought I'd ever hear the giggling laughter of a child as she called out "Mommy, push me higher!" Three years ago, I never thought we'd ever have a child.
But today, my little girl's face lit up the moment she saw the swingset her Daddy has made for her. She ran to it and cried out, "Swing me, Mommy!" And we swung and swung and swung until she noticed the slide and decided she wanted to stop swinging for a moment and "Go Slide Now, Daddy." Three rungs up and my little girl crawled over to the slide and slid down - two little waves and then plop - butt in the dirt - and giggles all around. "Again, again!" and she was up the ladder and across the platform and down. And then the swing again. And after watching her cousin Gabby tackle the rings, Jenny grabbed one in each hand, tugged up her feet and held on for dear life.
And that sweet sound of giggling laughter, like creek water over rocks, filled my heart to the point of tears. Those tears that suddenly rose to my eyes were of pure and simple joy. A prayer come true.
Three years ago, there was no hope for us ever conceiving a child, let alone carrying it to full term.
Now, I have Jenny.
And a swingset in my backyard.
But today, my little girl's face lit up the moment she saw the swingset her Daddy has made for her. She ran to it and cried out, "Swing me, Mommy!" And we swung and swung and swung until she noticed the slide and decided she wanted to stop swinging for a moment and "Go Slide Now, Daddy." Three rungs up and my little girl crawled over to the slide and slid down - two little waves and then plop - butt in the dirt - and giggles all around. "Again, again!" and she was up the ladder and across the platform and down. And then the swing again. And after watching her cousin Gabby tackle the rings, Jenny grabbed one in each hand, tugged up her feet and held on for dear life.
And that sweet sound of giggling laughter, like creek water over rocks, filled my heart to the point of tears. Those tears that suddenly rose to my eyes were of pure and simple joy. A prayer come true.
Three years ago, there was no hope for us ever conceiving a child, let alone carrying it to full term.
Now, I have Jenny.
And a swingset in my backyard.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Jenny Dreamed of Trains
It seems John Denver wrote a song for my little girl. I should send him a thank you for giving her a better song than, "Jenny (867-5309)." This is the song and I have just fallen in love with it. It is so very much the way I hoped my daughter would be: a little bit strange, and a little bit magical.
When Jenny was a little girl she only dreamed of trains
She never played with dolls or lacy kinds of things
Jenny counted boxcars instead of countin' sheep
She could go anywhere when she went to sleep
All she ever talked about was gettin' on to ride
She was livin' in another time you could see it in her eyes
Everyday after school she'd head down to the tracks
Waitin' for the train that was never comin' back
Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
The depot's been boarded up, the rails have turned to rush
There hasn't been a train through here since the mill went bust
No one believed her when she said she heard the train
She was just a little girl actin' kinda strange
Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
Jenny laid a penny on the track one day
In God we trust she walked away
The very next mornin' all that she could find
Was a little piece of copper squashed flatter than a dime
Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
When Jenny was a little girl she only dreamed of trains
She never played with dolls or lacy kinds of things
Jenny counted boxcars instead of countin' sheep
She could go anywhere when she went to sleep
All she ever talked about was gettin' on to ride
She was livin' in another time you could see it in her eyes
Everyday after school she'd head down to the tracks
Waitin' for the train that was never comin' back
Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
The depot's been boarded up, the rails have turned to rush
There hasn't been a train through here since the mill went bust
No one believed her when she said she heard the train
She was just a little girl actin' kinda strange
Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
Jenny laid a penny on the track one day
In God we trust she walked away
The very next mornin' all that she could find
Was a little piece of copper squashed flatter than a dime
Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
Monday, July 18, 2011
And the rest is silence
In the aftermath of my recent audition, I find the silence in my head this evening to be absolutely refreshing. I'm not rehashing my audition and I'm not preparing for a call back, as I know it will not come. I have learned much from this process and today is good chance to reflect on what exactly I got out of all of this nonsense.
(So pardon me as I ruminate.)
I decided to do this audition about a month ago when a certain person in my life laughed at the sheer possibility of my taking on something so bold. (And no, that person wasn't my husband.) If I didn't still hold such resentment toward this person, I might actually consider thanking him for his rudeness.
After taking such a leap and making the appointment, there were countless opportunities for me to cancel. All I had to do was send an email - so sorry, but I won't be auditioning . . . .thanks anyway - or something along those lines. I'm well practiced at chickening out, so I'm sure I'd have come up with something. But I didn't chicken out this time; I didn't quit.
Even when I knew the choreographer had given up on me, I didn't quit. Even when they told us we'd have to cut our songs down to 12 to 16 bars instead of the 32 I'd prepared, I didn't quit. I survived . . . persevered even . . . maybe.
When I enterred the vocal room and the accompanist actually thanked me for setting up the music the way I did - I felt like I belonged there. And in my mind, I said a silent thank you to my choir mistress for the advice she'd given me. She hadn't held back when giving me notes on how to do this or that and I put each piece of advice to use. I can say I have no regrets about my audition, other than I maybe tried too hard, but who can fault me for that?
It was funny how'd I'd agonized about what I was going to wear for the dance audition - how I'd bought a pair of shoes especially for that and never wore them. (I'll probably take them back to DSW tomorrow - maybe.) When it came down to the dance audition, I never had the chance to change anything but my shoes. I'd been one of the last in my group to do the vocal audition, so I just threw on my tennis shoes and danced in the nice outfit I'd picked out so I'd look professional for the singing part. By the time I was finished, my face was beautifully flushed, my hair still looked great, and no one could tell I was drenched with sweat underneath it all. I was completely buzzing when I walked out of that audition - not because I thought I'd nailed it, but because I knew that I'd survived with my head up and a cheerleader smile on my face.
I had a great deal of help along the way. If not for the advice I'd gotten from Shawnie and Kim on how to perform and appear professional; if not the for the tiny tidbits I stole from Patrick and Procco and even Huff; if not for the people I met and instantly liked at this audition; if not for the support (that I hadn't even realized I'd needed) from my FB friends and family - I don't think I could've gotten through this.
But I did. I did get through this.
And today everything went back to what it was before. Jenny had a doctor's appointment, so we ate lunch early, napped early and got to the appointment late because I had no gas in my car. And this evening, I'll probably curl up with a book for a few moments before going to bed.
And ever so slowly, I'll go back to the way things were before I decided to fill my every waking moment preparing for a 2 minute vocal audition and a 30 minute dance debaucle. And somewhere after Friday, I'll get an email telling me what I already know - that I was not chosen to play the lead role in this musical. Oh well - I'll decide - that's really what I wanted anyway.
I've gained so much from this experience though - a rediscovery of someone I used to be inside and that alone was worth it. I'm truly not disappointed in myself. Really.
And the rest is silence . . . .
(So pardon me as I ruminate.)
I decided to do this audition about a month ago when a certain person in my life laughed at the sheer possibility of my taking on something so bold. (And no, that person wasn't my husband.) If I didn't still hold such resentment toward this person, I might actually consider thanking him for his rudeness.
After taking such a leap and making the appointment, there were countless opportunities for me to cancel. All I had to do was send an email - so sorry, but I won't be auditioning . . . .thanks anyway - or something along those lines. I'm well practiced at chickening out, so I'm sure I'd have come up with something. But I didn't chicken out this time; I didn't quit.
Even when I knew the choreographer had given up on me, I didn't quit. Even when they told us we'd have to cut our songs down to 12 to 16 bars instead of the 32 I'd prepared, I didn't quit. I survived . . . persevered even . . . maybe.
When I enterred the vocal room and the accompanist actually thanked me for setting up the music the way I did - I felt like I belonged there. And in my mind, I said a silent thank you to my choir mistress for the advice she'd given me. She hadn't held back when giving me notes on how to do this or that and I put each piece of advice to use. I can say I have no regrets about my audition, other than I maybe tried too hard, but who can fault me for that?
It was funny how'd I'd agonized about what I was going to wear for the dance audition - how I'd bought a pair of shoes especially for that and never wore them. (I'll probably take them back to DSW tomorrow - maybe.) When it came down to the dance audition, I never had the chance to change anything but my shoes. I'd been one of the last in my group to do the vocal audition, so I just threw on my tennis shoes and danced in the nice outfit I'd picked out so I'd look professional for the singing part. By the time I was finished, my face was beautifully flushed, my hair still looked great, and no one could tell I was drenched with sweat underneath it all. I was completely buzzing when I walked out of that audition - not because I thought I'd nailed it, but because I knew that I'd survived with my head up and a cheerleader smile on my face.
I had a great deal of help along the way. If not for the advice I'd gotten from Shawnie and Kim on how to perform and appear professional; if not the for the tiny tidbits I stole from Patrick and Procco and even Huff; if not for the people I met and instantly liked at this audition; if not for the support (that I hadn't even realized I'd needed) from my FB friends and family - I don't think I could've gotten through this.
But I did. I did get through this.
And today everything went back to what it was before. Jenny had a doctor's appointment, so we ate lunch early, napped early and got to the appointment late because I had no gas in my car. And this evening, I'll probably curl up with a book for a few moments before going to bed.
And ever so slowly, I'll go back to the way things were before I decided to fill my every waking moment preparing for a 2 minute vocal audition and a 30 minute dance debaucle. And somewhere after Friday, I'll get an email telling me what I already know - that I was not chosen to play the lead role in this musical. Oh well - I'll decide - that's really what I wanted anyway.
I've gained so much from this experience though - a rediscovery of someone I used to be inside and that alone was worth it. I'm truly not disappointed in myself. Really.
And the rest is silence . . . .
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Ferris Bueller
If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
This audition process has been the strangest and most exciting process so far. And the learning process alongside of it all has just amazed me. I have some really great people around me from whom I have learned so much.
"Let me explain . . . No it's too much . . . let me sum up . . . " (Princess Bride)
A week ago, I had two songs picked out and practiced for this audition on the 17th: Stay With Me and I Don't Know How to Love Him. I had been leaning heavily on the piece from Into the Woods, because I love the musical and thought I could do a really good job with it. So I recorded the piece with my little camera and then decided - what the hell - I'll record the other one as well. I refused to listen to them at first. I was so afraid I would hate them both and chicken out completely.
So I turned to my husband and asked him (since I'd sung them at the top of my lungs - jk) which one he preferred. He liked the one from JCS the best - said it sounded just like the the one on the album and that I should go with it. Plus, he doesn't share my LOVE for ItheW. Go figure.
So I listened to the recordings of both songs and of course, Tim was right. At this point, however, I wasn't convinced. So I took both songs to my choir mistress (I love calling her that) and asked her opinion - mostly so I could get the pieces marked correctly for the accompanist at the audition, but also to see if she'd help me practice with a live instrument. Afterwards, she also said that the JCS piece sounded better and showed off my voice more. I hate when Tim's right - most of the time.
Okay, so I was convinced to change the song. As long as I don't screw up the words, I should be fine. The tone of it sounds good. My choir mistress said I just needed to mind my country twang when I sing it. Mind my country twang? That's all?! I had to laugh. I think I can do that.
So then came the resume and the headshot. The resume wasn't as lacking as I thought it would be. One thing though made me laugh - under "special skills" - I have none. That was a bit of a disappointment until I realized that as teachers we has to dabble in a little of everything, leaving us little time to specialize in anything. So I was tempted to list my special skills as: being a good teacher and a mom. I didn't think that would go over so professionally. oh well...
The headshots were possibly the deal breaker here and almost frightened me away from the whole thing. As much as I love the spotlight, I hate how I look in it. The idea of having a photographer focus completely on me was just uncomfortable at best. I suppose this is why God sent me such great family. My little photographer made it fun and laughed with me instead of staring at me and gave me so much control and say over what and when and how, that I felt almost comfortable with the attention. And the photos she took are amazing. Here's the one I'm going with for the audition - mostly because it's the one that's most how I want to be seen - slightly playful with a mischievous gleam in my eye.
So this week - as I'm trying to stay healthy and un-nervous, I'm going to tweak everything and hope for the best. I guess I should take some time to slow down a little this week, take some time to look around. Who knows what I might miss if I don't?
This audition process has been the strangest and most exciting process so far. And the learning process alongside of it all has just amazed me. I have some really great people around me from whom I have learned so much.
"Let me explain . . . No it's too much . . . let me sum up . . . " (Princess Bride)
A week ago, I had two songs picked out and practiced for this audition on the 17th: Stay With Me and I Don't Know How to Love Him. I had been leaning heavily on the piece from Into the Woods, because I love the musical and thought I could do a really good job with it. So I recorded the piece with my little camera and then decided - what the hell - I'll record the other one as well. I refused to listen to them at first. I was so afraid I would hate them both and chicken out completely.
So I turned to my husband and asked him (since I'd sung them at the top of my lungs - jk) which one he preferred. He liked the one from JCS the best - said it sounded just like the the one on the album and that I should go with it. Plus, he doesn't share my LOVE for ItheW. Go figure.
So I listened to the recordings of both songs and of course, Tim was right. At this point, however, I wasn't convinced. So I took both songs to my choir mistress (I love calling her that) and asked her opinion - mostly so I could get the pieces marked correctly for the accompanist at the audition, but also to see if she'd help me practice with a live instrument. Afterwards, she also said that the JCS piece sounded better and showed off my voice more. I hate when Tim's right - most of the time.
Okay, so I was convinced to change the song. As long as I don't screw up the words, I should be fine. The tone of it sounds good. My choir mistress said I just needed to mind my country twang when I sing it. Mind my country twang? That's all?! I had to laugh. I think I can do that.
So then came the resume and the headshot. The resume wasn't as lacking as I thought it would be. One thing though made me laugh - under "special skills" - I have none. That was a bit of a disappointment until I realized that as teachers we has to dabble in a little of everything, leaving us little time to specialize in anything. So I was tempted to list my special skills as: being a good teacher and a mom. I didn't think that would go over so professionally. oh well...
The headshots were possibly the deal breaker here and almost frightened me away from the whole thing. As much as I love the spotlight, I hate how I look in it. The idea of having a photographer focus completely on me was just uncomfortable at best. I suppose this is why God sent me such great family. My little photographer made it fun and laughed with me instead of staring at me and gave me so much control and say over what and when and how, that I felt almost comfortable with the attention. And the photos she took are amazing. Here's the one I'm going with for the audition - mostly because it's the one that's most how I want to be seen - slightly playful with a mischievous gleam in my eye.
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