Happy Halloween!

From Ariel, Prince Eric, and our little Sebastian!

The Moth

 
Like my father, I'm somewhat of an insomniac. We both listen to podcasts at odd hours in the middle of the night to help pacify our racing minds. Anxiety is passed down, I think. Genetic or learned, passed down all the same.

Having caught up on all my favs -This American Life, Stuff You Should Know, Stuff Mom Never Told You, The Story, and Freakanomics - (yeah, I know, that's a lot of time in the middle of the night) - I've turned to yet another suggestion from Dad: The Moth.

The Moth has been a huge source of inspiration to me because it's performed by WRITERS! There is a theme of the night and the performers/writers have to come up with a story that fits that theme. They have to stick to a 15 minute story or they get cut off (don't you wish that happened in real life?) and they tell their story to a live audience.

Here is what I love:

• You can hear the author's voice. Literally. Other than David Sedaris, I have rarely heard a story told from the author's own voice. It is done so beautifully that I have cried after listening to several episodes

• The stories are true. I am all about fiction. You'd be hard pressed to find someone who reads as much fiction as I do, but when it comes to writing, I love autobiographical stories with a theme. There is something so painfully wonderful about someone laying out the truth for everyone to see. This sort of bravery I hope to achieve one day.

• Author's Purpose: So I went to have wine and cheese with two of my besties last week and we all happen to have graduated with the ever-so-useful English degree and we spent a large part of the night discussing author's purpose in writing, specifically blogs. Okay, so maybe we'll never be Carrie Bradshaw and friends but we are definitely putting our critical thinking skills to good use. Take that, Avenue Q! Anyway, my point is, I was inspired to write with more purpose (which might be why I haven't written since).

I'll be blatant in my purpose for this blog: Check out The Moth and then let me know what you think. I recommend the epiosodes "A Doll's House" by Bill Burr and "Spanish Harlem" by Ernesto Quionez". Nothing inspires good writing like good writing!

Yeah, I really do think.

I was teaching irony yesterday and I tried to make a joke about how Alanis Morissette's song "Isn't it Ironic" isn't ironic at all and guess what? No one had ever heard of Alanis Morissette. No. one.

I started to feel a little old and a bit disconnected when one of my brilliant (No sarcasm here.This year they really are brilliant) kids quickly responded, "Well, if her song about irony isn't ironic, then it's ironic, right?"

See what I mean?

This is what I've waited my whole life for.

Teaching Honors English  has changed my life. Yeah, yeah, a hyperbole of sorts, but really, not too far off. For the first time ever, I can say with 100% certainty, I love my job. If someone offered to pay me what I get paid now and I could stay home instead of teaching, I wouldn't take it. No way.

It definitely helps that I'm part-time, but I actually look forward to going to work. Cool, huh? (This little colloquialism was pointed out to me and Dan when we were in Greece. Our Kiwi friends explained that they can always tell if someone is American because they use the phrase: "Cool, huh?" We didn't believe them either, but it's true).

By the way, did you notice all the literary terms I threw in here? And watch for the elevated vocabulary in the future. Honors is making me smarter, too. 

Cool, huh?

3 months ago

i was writing all the time.

thinking. reflecting. creating.

sometimes i feel paralyzed when i open my blog. the cursor blinking. waiting. waiting. waiting.

and nothing good comes.

do i write just to write? for writing sake? i'm not so sure. i sometimes wish people wrote less, ya know? thought more and wrote less. kinda like talking.

that's all i got.

it's a start, right?

Tomorrow

My favorite sense is smell. Okay, I mean, if I had to lose one of my five senses it would probably BE smell so I guess I can't say it's my favorite -- but for memory and anticipation, ah, it is by far the greatest.

You would think we were headed back to Greece. Or Switzerland. The way we talk about Ohio seems on par with these magical destinations. I imagine an alien hearing us talking (I do that a lot, I know - weird- but it's about perspective, really) and thinking that Ohio must a sort of paradise. To me, my friends, it is.

I can smell Ohio. The heavy, muggy air right before a thunderstorm. The grass saturated with dew. I picture us all crowded at the door, watching the sky light up and then go dark. A paradox of sorts.

Tomorrow afternoon we will board a plane back home and for almost two weeks I will feel totally complete. I'll be eleven again and silly and absurd. This is our comfortable.

The only thing standing in my way at this point is plane ride.... with an almost 14 month old. Have you ever flown with a child that age?

Neither have I.

I have a feeling, it ain't gonna be pretty.


P.S. @ Vic concerning the three books I couldn't read:

1. Tropic of Cancer - This is widely regarded as one of the best books EVER written. Like ever. There is a fifty page foreward about it's excellence. It changed censorship. Compelling, they say. All it made me feel - was like a total moron. I could barely understand what was going on. I'm thinking maybe you need to be in a certain mindset and I'm thinking that mindest is genius. We'll see. I'll give it another try someday.

2. World Without End (followup to Pillars of the Earth) - Okay, this should come with a little asterisk because I didn't try very hard. I knew I was headed to Ohio and there was no way I was going to finish a thousand page novel before then so I just stopped because my heart wasn't into it. I know I will love it --- when I have more time.

3. My Name is Asher Lev - I don't know. After about ten pages (I know, not much of a start, eh?) I just put it down and had no desire to pick it back up.

Shit - Charlie just walked in and his hands are covered in dirt. Shit. Wish we luck on the plane!

Lessons from Literature

I tried starting three books - three! - and I couldn't get into any of them. WHAT?! That never happens. Seriously. I push through a book, even if I don't love it, because once it's been purchased, I've committed. But, three beginnings later, I put them all back on the shelf and wondered what could be wrong. This is serious.

But then I found it: The Poisonwood Bible!

My friend, Heather, bought a kindle and gave away all her books. I know, I know. I thought the same thing: I got an image of having another baby and then handing over Charlie. Hello newborn, don't need this old thing anymore. Broke my heart a little so I scooped up three bags full of books and it felt like Christmas. Or Hanukkah. You get the picture.

So I opened my fourth book, afraid of what might happen. Scared I'd get a few pages in and toss it aside like a firstborn child. Alas! I was back.

One of the first sections of this book starts with a quote  quotation from Genesis:

And God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea. and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.


Uhhhh. All I could think was: now THAT is some fucked up shit.


Subdue the earth? Have dominion over every living thing? Excuse me, God, but that's exactly the kind of mindset that is destroying the earth. And that is no hyperbole. LITERALLY, that is the story that is speeding up the earth's demise.

Oh, Ishmael, when will they understand.

With gorilla gone, will there be hope for man?

My cousin, Jeff, and his wife, Nicole, have two of the most amazing kids I've ever met. Polite, articulate, kind, and intelligent, those kids are part of the reason I wanted to have my own.

In November on our way home from Lake Tahoe, we stopped in Santa Cruz to visit Jeff and his family. Their custom designed and built home is nestled on a mountain between gargantuan redwoods. Their windows are uncovered, leaving a view of the forest around them.

Take a look:

See how they don't even need anything on the walls! The trees ARE their walls! And look at the view from Leila's bedroom:

We arrived late in the afternoon, tired and hungry after a long drive from Tahoe, and were feeling like we'd like to sleep more than anything. That changed quickly when my cousin ran out to meet us at the car, charged with an excited energy that we were there. They were already setting the table and pouring us generous amounts of wine before we had our bags out of the trunk. Music playing, dinner served and wine setting in, it felt almost surreal. Their home had an energy that was so warm and happy and for the first time I saw Jeff and Nicole as parents, rather than peers. Good parents.

Charlie had turned 6 months just a few days earlier and it was amazing to watch the children's enthusiasm over their baby cousin. They couldn't get enough. Laila asked if she could sleep next to Charlie and when Jeff explained that he had to sleep in his crib, she decided to camp out on the floor next to him and watch him as he slept. Jack hugged him tightly and exclaimed, "He's the cutest thing I ever did see!" Pure joy filled my heart.

Dinner was one of the most extraordinary events that I'd ever witnessed. Jeff asked three year old Jack if he wanted to lead the dinner conversation and , exhilarated, he shouted, "Yes! I get to be the facilitator!"

Wait. What did he just say? Facilitator? We watched, mouths gaping, as Jack lead... err... facilitated the discussion.

He started off by quizzing the table on the differences between similes and metaphors and then gave examples of each. He made sure to explain  why "my family is like gold" was a simile and then made the rounds to be sure we could all justify our uses of figurative language. WHAT?

See! I told you he was excited to "facilitate". 

Laila, the little genius that she is, tried to trick Jack a few times but it wasn't going to happen. These two seemed to know more than many of my eleventh graders (oh, how I wish I was joking!).

After dinner the kids played on the floor some more with Charlie and being both kind and altruistic, they each chose a toy that they wanted to give to their newest family member. I was honestly blown away. Jeff and Nicole told them how proud they were and then read them a few stories. They discussed the best part of the day and the worst part of the day and Jack exclaimed that the best part was Charlie. (Seriously, this happened). Laila quietly said that this very moment was her favorite because the whole house was full of her family and she loved them all. (Uhhhh, pinch me please).

We each took turns sharing our highs and lows of the day and then everybody got hugs and kisses. Jeff made sure to tell the kids what was planned for the next day and how they better sleep well because a whole new adventure was in store - at the Dagan home every day is an adventure.

Look at 6 month old Charlie! Jack and Leila spoiling our bear. 

When the kiddos were all tucked into bed, Jeff breathed a huge sigh of relief and said, "Man, isn't parenting difficult?"

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?

If a second head had grown right out of Jeff's neck at that very moment, I would have been less shocked than at that statement. What did he mean? His kids were ANGELS. They were the brightest, sweetest, most eloquent little kids I have ever met. Where was this coming from? He lost me somewhere.

What he said next changed me as a parent. Honestly, I think about it every single day - sometimes several times a day- and it makes me work hard, even when I  feel like I don't have anything left.

He said, "Ali, it's really easy to be a parent. It's really, extremely, impossibly difficult to be a good parent."

And he's right.

 Whenever I feel like turning on the TV to give myself a break from the constant playing, I remind myself of Jeff's words. It would be easy to turn on that TV right now. It's much harder to read this book for the 57th time and meow like a cat with enthusiasm.

I make myself meow.

I am by no means the perfect mother. Perfection, in any sense of the word, doesn't exist. I'm not going to pretend. What I am -  is lucky.

I'm so lucky to have so many wonderful role models in my life. Examples of extraordinary parents, including my own, to show me how to love. That love isn't just a feeling but an action. A choice. A choice to do the best I can every single day for someone else. For my Charlie.

It's all for my Charlie.

Oh no I've said too much

I remember hearing, once, that hate isn't a real emotion. I mean it's real in the sense that you can feel it. Real in it's effect on the body and even worse, it's total control of the mind. But unreal in it's origin. It's more of a bi product of another emotion. It's where we go when we don't want to admit that we've been hurt. Ignored. Humiliated. Wronged.

I was told today that my post "Purpose" was mean and I found that a bit surprising. Perhaps I read a little too much Sedaris? I clearly don't tell Charlie, however sweetly you had imagined, to" sit fucking still". I would never...You must know me better than that. And the "fuck em" part- that wasn't anger. If I was mad, I would have said "fuck them" ya know? Apparently the subtle differences in diction are lost among most. My apologies. I knew a return to writing wasn't going to go smoothly.

But now that I'm on the topic of anger and frustration (yes, I know, a rather rocky transition, but I'm admittedly rusty) I'd like to tell a story, like I set out to do. A story of discrimination and salvation. Religion and morality. Rejection and acceptance.

I was in first grade the first time I heard about God. Kids at school talked God and not wanting to be an outsider, I listened intently and pretended like I knew what? who? they were talking about. It doesn't take long to figure out that a imperceptible nod of the head and long periods of silence can get you pretty far. It's speaking that gets you in trouble. So I shyly listened.

My best friend in the world, Faith, came from a religious family (which I'm hoping you figured out by her name, but who knows? You thought I cussed out my baby!). Her dinner table was in the center of the dining room and I clearly remember the formality that accompanied dinner. Place-settings. Large plates. Cloth napkins! Grace.

We didn't say grace at home. Sometimes, my dad would proclaim jokingly, "Before we can eat, we have to say grace" and we would all shout "Grace!" in unison. Or he would quote his favorite saying, "Father, son and the holy ghost, whoever eats the fastest gets the most" or some other defamation of what I later realized was a holy moment. Whoops.

I remember eating dinner at Faith's and what stands out the most was grace. So this is grace. Her father would ask who wanted to lead and I remember putting my head down and sinking down in my chair, like I did at school when I didn't know the answer. Please, please, please don't pick me, I thought. And there must be a God because thankfully, he never did. Whomever was chosen to lead in thanks, would always add me to the prayer which made me feel special and honored. Grace wasn't so bad.

And the more people I met, the more I realized that this "God" guy was pretty important. Kids that believed in God were good kids. Parents liked these kids. And as a kid, all I wanted to be was liked.

I enrolled in a Christian day camp with Faith. What fun! I remember sitting in a small amphitheatre, wooden seats and a dirt stage, and watching kids play "Chubby Bunny" by stuffing as many marshmallows into their mouths as they could and then trying to gurgle the words, "Chubby Bunny." Wow! Being a Christina was fun! We were taught how to braid leather strips into key chains, sing songs about God, and given bags full of jolly ranchers. Parents picked up their kids at the end of the day and looked at me like I was something special. This was definitely for me.

On about the third day, we were each handed little orange bibles with bumpy covers, like a basketball  had been deflated and cut into little pieces. I imagined God taking the time to glue them together just for us. We were special, after all. I opened the book and was amazed at the tissue paper pages. I felt them crinkle between my fingers as I turned the pages and wondered how long it would take to read it. It was the longest book I'd ever owned and I couldn't wait to delve in.

After we all had our bibles, a teenage boy began to talk. He explained to us that when we were ready to be saved, all we had to do was ask Jesus to be in our hearts. After that, he would always be with us. We would never feel lonely or afraid and from then on he would protect us and love us. Oh, how I wanted that! There were times when my parents were fighting and I felt alone and to think--- all I had to do was ask Jesus to be in my heart, and I would never feel that again. This really did seem like the answer I had been searching for.

We were allowed to spread out and take time to think but I didn't need time. I knew that I was ready so I ran to a solitary tree, closed my eyes, and asked Jesus to be in my heart.

But I didn't feel anything.

I was told I would know. I would feel his love.

Nothing.

I felt like the same Ali except a little more confused and a lot more disappointed. Maybe if I prayed about it, I thought. I just needed to give it time. Days went by. Weeks. Years.

I tried to be a Christian again when I fell in love. His mother was the deacon of a large church downtown. His father ran a smaller church in the community. I went with him. Prayed. Talked about God.

Nada. It just didn't make sense to me.



I was angry hurt that I seemed to be discounted because I didn't have faith. I wanted to explain that I do have faith. Faith is more than just god.

I have faith in so many things. I trust and believe in people and this, I think, takes more faith than in any deity imaginable. I know people are flawed. I see people make mistakes and I trust in them anyway. I believe in intangible ideas - love, hope, kindness, redemption, forgiveness despite an earth that is quickly destroying itself.

I have faith in my husband and his immeasurable patience and kindness. In my family and their ability to accept me for all that I am - and more importantly, all that I am not. I have faith in my friends and trust that they will reserve judgement in my confessions of imperfection.

I have faith that Charlie will grow up in a world where he doesn't feel the need to believe in something that doesn't make sense to him just because it's easier, and that if he does believe, I have faith that I will be able to encourage and love him in that endeavour without judgement.

Faith is so much more than god.

Amen.

California (Boy)

Charlie is a native of California. I kinda like that. Never being able to claim that title for myself, I feel lucky that my little man visited the beach at a week old and has been back countless times since. He even LOOKS like a little surfer boy with his sandy blond curls and his ocean blue eyes. Add the backdrop of the turquoise waves and dolphins bouncing up and down (did I mention we saw dolphins?) and it's almost laughable. Picturesque for sure.

Yesterday I bought Charlie his first pair of flip flops. It almost felt like a right of passage of sorts. Here in California, flip flops are standard year around. Sundresses and sandles. Jeans and sandles. Pajamas and sandles. You get the picture.

I picked out a cute camo pair and strapped them on Charlie's little feet. What did he do? Squeal in joy and li-ter-ally (yes, Debbie, literally) ran around the house. Who knew the boy could RUN? Nothing says California like a 13 month old running in sandles.

Purpose

As an English teacher, I understand purpose in terms or writing. Before you can write anything of substance, you have to decide your purpose. Your audience.

In the blogging world, this is difficult. I originally started my blog in 2008 to work on writing. Writing was my purpose. I would chose a simple event and elaborate. Create a story. Write. Then, I got pregnant and writing took a backburner to documenting. What I looked like at 20 weeks pregnant. 23 weeks. 37.

I tried to return to writing but I was so goddamn tired. Who can write when you can't even think? When you're lucky that you were able to shower and feel human. No more writing.

Looking back, that was the EASY part. Funny how that works. Now I can't even take a crap without Charlie sitting on my lap, squirming to get down. I try to explain to him sweetly, "Mommy is taking a shit, honey. Can you sit still for one fucking second?" but he never seems to understand.

I tried to find a way to block certain users from reading my blog because real writing can't be censored but I also don't want to be judged. It left me feeling stagnant. I can't write and worry so I decided something that I should have a long time ago: Fuck em.

Here is my return to writing.

You have read 14 books toward your goal of 25 books.

14 of 25 (56%)

 

Great work, you're 2 books (4%) ahead.

 

 

Just finished "A Man in Uniform" and "Ishmael". Haven't really had much time to write (and still don't) but before I get too far behind in my reads, I thought I'd document my latest.

 

Shout out to my hubby who actually went to a bookstore (probably the first time he went willingly) and chose a book for me. He said he read through lots of them and had a hard time deciding (so sweet) but that he finally picked "A Man in Uniform" because he noticed that it was based on a true event and he could picture me researching the actual event and comparing notes -- which is exactly what I did! This book was a quick read because I was dying to figure out how it would turn out. The author added lots of scandal to keep it juicy and I definitely would recommend this book to everyone. I especially like books that create a story around a true event because then I learn a little bit about history AND get to enjoy a fabricated story. Good job, Danny. Oh - if you're thinking about reading it, it's based on the 1894 Dreyfus Affair - German spies, Infilration, French coverups, kept women, military espionage --- good stuff.

 

 

The last book I just finished is "Ishmael" by Daniel Quinn and I really don't want to say too much except that I think if every person in the world read this book, we might actually be able to save the world. Dramatic? Yes. Give it a read and you'll see what I mean. Here's a quote that gives you a taste about the message:

 

"The people of your culture cling with fanatical tenacity to the specialness of man. They want desperately to perceive a vast gulf between man and the rest of creation. This mythology of human superiority justifies their doing whatever they please with the world, just the way Hitler’s mythology of Aryan superiority justified his doing whatever he pleased with Europe. But in the end this mythology is not deeply satisfying. The Takers are a profoundly lonely people. The world for them is enemy territory, and they live in it like an army of occupation, alienated and isolated by their extraordinary specialness.”

 

 

 

Last note - just for the record: Having a 13 month old is exhausting! This is the first time I have stayed home all day since summer break started (and I"m forced to because we are getting our water heater replaced) and all I want to do is go for a walk, hang out with my besties, or both! Shout out to Lindsay for making the past few days SO MUCH FUN and to Jess, Eva, and Liz for making a weekly effort to get together. It isn't until I'm stuck at home all day that I realize how lucky I am to have friends who drag my ass out of the house every day.

Dalai Lama knows all

I really like quotes. My girl, Vic, bought me this little gold journal for my 30th and I like to carry it around and keep it full of quotations that inspire me. We're the same like that. We could sit in a restaurant (and we have) and discuss quotations and literature all night long. It's like looking in a mirror with that girl - a mirror where I'm tanner and more beautiful - but a mirror all the same. I texted her this morning because I was feeling sort of down and she quickly wrote back, "Getting in the shower, call you on my way to work!" Ah, good friends.

The advice she gave? Find a quote! Ah, yes. Sometimes you just need a kindred spirit to lead you back to who you are. She's right - I just needed some words. Carefully chosen words, arranged in the right order. Simple. Powerful. True.

Here's what I came up with (spoken or written by, not sure which one, the famous Dalai Lama):

“This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness.”

And guess what, Vic? I feel better!

I then got a text from another bestie that read, "I love you and the way your heart works -- so open and free" which made me cry a little and feel grateful for - well, everything!

Sometimes when I look at Charlie - those almond-shaped ocean blue eyes, that little button nose, those uneven, oversized teeth - I  close my eyes and try to put that little face in a spot in my head that I can go back to when he's older. I want to always be able to see him like this.

And the problem is - when I see him the next day, he's already different. And I can't go back. The face I tried to preserve has already morphed into the face that is today. And he's gone.

I cry a lot about this. Silly, I know.

It gets better as they get older, they say. And it's true.

But I already miss newborn Charlie. One month. Two months. Ten months. A year.

Motherhood is wonderful, they say. And it's true. It's so very true.

Chalkboard Cupboards

Dan and I love our home but we REALLY dislike our kitchen. Since a remodel is out of the question at the moment (along with Starbucks and anything out of the "budget") I figured a chalkboard in the kitchen would make it look cute and also help remind Dan of what we have on the agenda for the week (and hopefully avoid the daily, "Wait, do we have plans this weekend?" question).

 Took a trip to the good old Home Depot and got magnetic primer (our fridge isn't magnetic so we need SOMETHING to stick a million pictures to!) and chalkboard paint.

 A before pic

Taping around the edges

Magnetic primer goes on first

Tada!

The instructions say not to write anything on it for three days so I'm being patient (although I did stick a magnent on there to test it out). Best part: Chalkboard markers!! They are brighly colored - I know you have seen them on bistro signs outside of restaurants - and easily erasable. I already bought them in every color. Fun, cheap little improvement. 

Hi there

Charlie is 1!

This post is definitely late (Sorry, Bear) but better late than never, right? I will post about his first birthday party but I'm in the middle of a little project so I gotta make this quick.

At his one year appointmnet Charlie was 20% for weight and 75% for height. Tall and skinny. Shocker.

As of right now he can say LOTS of words. Let's see.... Off the top of my head he knows how to say:

1.Mom
2. Dad
3. Book
4. Bird
5. Hot
6. Clock (I know, weird)
7. Bath
8. Cat
9. Meow (hehe)
10. Please
11. Cheese
12. Up
13. Balloon

He said "Granpop" yesterday for the first time and he basically can repeat anything but those are the words that he can attach meaning to. Also, he can meow when you say cat, bark when you say dog, and quack when you say duck.

He can follow directions and he can walk.

Yup, yup, a bona fide genius ;)

Love that little Bear.

Atwood

 

I love Margaret Atwood. 

I finished "Oryx and Crake" and - as I mentioned in a former blog - was overjoyed to find out that it was the first book in a trilogy. A trilogy! I don't usually read books that come in threes (or twos for that matter) because then I feel locked-in to that story for too long and if I feel like reading something else, I have a sort of guilt for abandoning that story (I mean, the those characters NEED me, right??). BUT- this worked out perfectly because I had no idea this was a trilogy and when "Oryx and Crake" abruptly ended (and I felt pretty jippped - side note: did you know "jipped" is a dig at gypsies? I feel sort of bad about that but I hate the word "bamboozled" - sounds like a circus) anyway, I was feeling pretty hoodwinked? and then I reopened the book and realized that they have included the first chapter of the next book! Woohoo. And to top it off, I own that book already. SCORE.

Tonight I finally got to read for a few hours (Charlie was down at 6 and Dan is sick so is in bed snoozing) and boy am I hooked. The shit Atwood writes about is scary. And I don't mean Stephen King scary or Friday the 13th scary, I mean this-shit-could-really-happen scary.

A rapidly warming earth. Resources depleted. A society based on technology. Very few readers (sad!). The future world that Atwood creates is where we are heading. Fuuuuuuuuuuck.

And since I know I'll finish this book either tonight or tomorrow, I took a break to order the last book from Amazon right now so I can have it safely waiting for me to devour. And guess what?

IT HASN'T BEEN WRITTEN YET!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

I've been jipped (yeah, I said it). Bamboozled. Deceived. Hoodwinked. Mislead. 

Seriously, I don't know what to do. I've checked all the bibliophile (vocab word for my juniors) blogs and no one knows when it's going to be done. Shit! I did, however, find a cool youtube video with Margaret Atwood talking about the last book in the MaddAddam trilogy and several new blogs I'm going to follow (I knew there was a blogger world for me! Mommy blogs and Fashion blogs= BLAH) so I guess that's the silver lining in this dark, dark cloud. 

All I gotta say, is this bitch amazingly talented female novelist, poet, literary critic, essayist, and environmentalist better be writing her ass off right now. 

Summers off

The first week of summer is always the best. Months stretched ahead. No buried feelings of anxiety and anticipation that the school year is looming. The stress of lesson planning months away. Pleasure, guiltless reading. Mid Late-afternoon shower. Blow-dryer shoved to the back of the shelf, behind sunscreen and tanning lotion. Time. All the time in the world.

Here is what we did:

Played in the sandbox with bubbles (Thanks Auntie Lindsay!)

Crawled in the only spot in the sandbox he's not supposed to sit in :)

Took a break to eat some fruit and Cheerios

...which was pretty funny.

And back out to the sandbox

While Charlie slept, I finished up book #11:

which is -apparently- the first in a trilogy! What an awesome surprise. Just when I thought I had to leave this horrifying world behind, I realize I have two more to go. Yippee! So, naturally, I'm starting Book #12 (Thanks Debbie!):

Does it look kind scary and scifi-ish? It sure is. Review to come because I hear Charlie upstairs and he's probably looking forward to me smothering him in kisses!

The Perks of Being a Teacher

and I don't mean the summers off.

I just got home from work. It's 9:00pm and I was on campus for 14 hours today. I'm tired and have a slight headache and I can't wait to crawl into bed. But I know if I don't write just a little, I'll lose what I'm feeling and this is the sort of day I need to remember. To remind myself why I became a teacher.

I started at Escondido High School four years ago and during my first year, I had five periods of freshman. I quickly realized that the literary conversations I had imagined having were not going to take place in the way I had imagined. Or at all.

Not only were my kids not reading, but to my surprise I learned that they couldn't really read. Not English at least. And since that's the only language I know, we had a problem. Literary conversations out the door. Let's just work on conversations.

And thankfully, that worked. I got to know my kids and I realized that although I had gone into teaching to discuss literature, I wanted to stay because those kids had so much to say. And not that many people to listen.

Today, my baby freshman from four years ago, graduated.

I can't really describe how it feels to watch them receive their diplomas - Kinda like the end of Rudy. Or when you bought someone a gift that you just can't wait for them to open. Or dancing.

These kids - the first of anyone they know to graduate- full of pride. Beaming smiles. A swagger in their step. Standing tall.

I'm lucky to be a teacher. On days when I'm drowning in essays and lesson planning and discipline issues I need to remember that. I'm so proud of my kiddos. My heart is very full.

Giovanny, Carlos, Victor, Luis, Alan, ME, Jose H, Chucky (Irwin), Jose B.

Adan who is the most talented writer AND artist I've ever had. Such an amazingly kind and gifted kid.

My all time favorite (yes, I have favorites) student- Crystal. She worked so hard and is going to college on scholarships. She's the first of anyone in her family to even graduate and she's going to a university!

What Goes Around

This week has been one of the most fulfilling teaching-weeks of the year. The seniors have been out for a week (instead of classes this week they get to participate in senior activities) and I have had SO many of my former students stop by my classroom to have me sign yearbooks, take pictures, and say goodbye (one girl even brought me flowers!). It's makes me so proud to see the kids I had their freshman year, graduating. For some, it was a long, difficult road and something to really celebrate. They are not supposed to make it.

Most days I feel drained and pulled in a million different directions. Today, I feel so lucky to have had these kids trust me and open up to me and call me their teacher. I'm sad to see them move on but so proud that they made it. Congratulations to the Class of 2011!

My sweetie-pies!! (Ugh, why do I ALWAYS close my eyes?!?!)

Period 2

This has been one of the most exhausting weeks of my life. I haven't been this tired since Charlie was born. I'm actually even too tired to explain how busy I've been. Bottom line: I'm going to miss my second period. I came to class looking like a trainwreck and was greeted with these smiles which seemed to make everything worth it and all better. Enjoy these lovelies.

Francisco, Santos, Martin O, Victor, Gabriel, Martin V, and Lucas

The Shadow of the Wind

I love when people recommend books and then deliver them so that you ACTUALLY will read them. Thanks, Sara!

 Just finished The Shadow of the Wind. I stayed up late to finish because I just couldn't put it down. It's one of those books where at the end of each chapter (and the chapters are short -- which make me read more, does that happen to you?) it leaves you hanging. I'd start to read just the first lines of the next chapter to see what was going to happen and then I'd end up finishing THAT chapter. Repeat for 300 pages until I finish the book.

Yup, 300 pages in one evening.

Review? It's a page-turner, not a work of art. This book kind of reminds me of one of those action packed movies where you can't stop watching but then when you think about it wasn't REALLY a good movie. Ya know? Think Die Hard instead of Life is Beautiful.

Did your read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo? Yeah, kinda like that.

So, I would recommend the book because I did like it - and it was recommended to me which I always appreciate - but definitely not one of my top picks of the year.

Onto book 11...Going to go back to some Margaret Atwood. I'm still missing The Handmaid's Tale...

Cougars

RAWR!

Haircut #2

Charlie is about to be a year old. That's just crazy! We have scheduled a little photo shoot at the beach next Sunday and really didn't want his hair to be in his face for the pictures. Plus, when the wind blows, a few long pieces catch in the wind and it really does look like he has a comb-over. Not something we want to capture for eternity.

Last time we had Charlie's hair cut, I was so scared that they were going to mess up that I wouldn't let them layer it or really cut that much off. She just cut it straight in the front and left everything else. This time, Dan took Charlie to a kid's salon (where they are patient and realize that kids like to move around) and I didn't go. Daddy took lots of pictures though!

Get up, Stand up.

I hate it when people complain about situations but then don't do anything to prevent them from happening. Or when they complain about certain people in office and then don't vote. It just doesn't make sense. SO - we took the fam and went down to the Embarcadero to rally for education. Being a teacher AND a mother, I don't know what's more important than public education. It was pretty inspiring to see so many different districts and levels all participating for the same cause. The best part of the rally: The ONE AND ONLY person who showed up to protest the teachers had a sign with a glaring error. It read:

Americans shouldn't pay tax's.

Awesome.

Tinkers

Just finished the novel Tinkers by Paul Harding.

To read or not to read: Here's my take. If you love language (think Virginia Woolf) then you will LOVE this novella. Lots of beautiful descriptions and stream of consciousness. These kinds of reads make me feel less alone because I realize that people think like I think. The author will be describing something concrete and allow his mind to wander to something abstract and not at all related in a way that we all do at times. This was a novel that I couldn't stop underlining (okay, metaphorically. so many wonderful passages but I didn't want to ACTUALLY write in the book because it feels like graffiti these days).  For example:

"...be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your soul means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it. And when you resent the ache in your heart, remember: You will be dead and buried soon enough."

So true! And this:

"Everything is made to perish; the wonder of anything at all is that it has not already done so. No, he thought. The wonder of anything is that it was made in the first place. What persists beyond this cataclysm of making and unmaking?"

So you see? This is by no means a page-turner. I'll probably forget the plot by the end of the year. But the language and the beauty were remarkable. A lover of language should read this. A person looking for a fun, easy read - skip it.

Book #10 (According to Goodreads I am at 36% of my goal for 2011):