When you get married, you join and commit yourself not only to that person but to his or her entire history and future, and that includes family. I wonder how many people realize the seriousness of that before entering the commitment. You're doubling your family in a day, essentially.
I'm fortunate to have been accepted into my husband's family (now mine) with open arms by all. And I love them. But doubling your family means not only doubling the love you receive, but also the loss you will inevitably experience. That's bittersweet.
Today we will honor the memory of my husband's grandmother. It has been a really rough weekend since her passing early Friday morning. I was blessed to grow up with two living sets of grandparents, but MaMa was the only grandparent Scott ever knew. And she was so influential in the lives she touched, so the pain of this loss is extra strong.
In her last few weeks, she asked Patricia (Scott's mom) to tell us that she was headed into the sunset and our baby was headed toward the sunrise. While I hate that she didn't get to meet this new little life and that her own ended so closely before his... There's almost comfort in knowing she *knew*--not just that he was coming, but that, in a sense, they were trading places.
I've been reading Tuck Everlasting with my students this semester, a novel that discusses the ideas of life, immortality, and death. It's suggested therein that, though it's sad and we hate and often fear it, death is a natural part of the wheel of life, right next to being born; that old life must leave to make room for new. It seems in Scott's family, this pattern is almost always true--death and new life come paired together. I have mixed feelings about this. It's selfish, but I even don't like the fact that my child's birth will be, in a sense, less happy an occasion because it will follow so soon after Belle's passing. People may associate the two and it might make them sad.
I guess there's comfort in knowing she knew he was going to be named after her late husband (Perry--Taven's middle name). I know that tickled her. But I'll always hate that they never met. Not in this life, anyway.
Belle was a wonderful woman whose life deserves to be celebrated, and I hope we will keep doing so anytime the family gets together. I'm thankful for the new life God is sending our way to celebrate even I'm the shadow of loss. He's good that way.
Written 4-15
(Finished later)
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Five days
This Friday is our gender ultrasound. I do believe this will likely be the second longest five days of my life, second only to my due date.
Scott and I talked last night about how nice it will be to start talking to the baby in utero. The earliest I've read he/she might be able to hear is 18 weeks, so we have another month on that, but still. Knowing what the baby is and being able to call it by its name... I think that will just help to make it all real.
There have only been a couple of "real" moments, really. When the doctor called with the results of my hcg test and confirmed the pregnancy, I cried, because official results rather than the at-home test seemed to make it real.
The other defining moment was the first ultrasound. I half expected a blank picture to come up onscreen, for the tech to say, "there's no baby in here; what were you thinking?!" But then I saw it, wiggling around and waving and kicking and very much real and alive. I teared up then, too.
I can't wait to see more of this little person who's about to change my entire world.
Scott and I talked last night about how nice it will be to start talking to the baby in utero. The earliest I've read he/she might be able to hear is 18 weeks, so we have another month on that, but still. Knowing what the baby is and being able to call it by its name... I think that will just help to make it all real.
There have only been a couple of "real" moments, really. When the doctor called with the results of my hcg test and confirmed the pregnancy, I cried, because official results rather than the at-home test seemed to make it real.
The other defining moment was the first ultrasound. I half expected a blank picture to come up onscreen, for the tech to say, "there's no baby in here; what were you thinking?!" But then I saw it, wiggling around and waving and kicking and very much real and alive. I teared up then, too.
I can't wait to see more of this little person who's about to change my entire world.
Friday, February 17, 2012
A special teacher moment
This week has been a tough one at work. Long story vague and short enough for safety, my teaching ability was called into question (by some students who I believe had a bad combination of having it out for me and genuinely not learning as much in my class as others because they put forth less effort and little to no enthusiasm--but, hey, can't win 'em all). It has been a week of self-doubt, defensiveness, desperately hurt feelings, and internal panic. One of my most tragic flaws as an educator is my desire to make everyone happy and my subsequent need for approval (yes, my name is J, and I'm a people-pleaser), not just from administrators but from colleagues, parents, and students as well.
After today's attempt on my part to smooth things over, I felt drained and defeated (despite my administrator's advice not to feel that way at all). Combine this with pregnancy hormones and the chaos that is my multi-tasking life these days, and you've got a considerable mess.
Tonight I logged onto my school Facebook page and scrolled through the news feed, all the usual types of posts from my students--music videos, carefully angled photos taken on cell phones into mirrors, and misspelled updates about the drama of life. Then I noticed a post with my name in it. It read:
dude we have 1 of the best teachers of all time i kno she thinks im playin but shes still best
to mrs O'Shields
This was the student whose truancy conference I attended earlier this week.
Several other students commented and agreed with his post.
These are the moments that remind me it's going to be okay, strange as it is.
After today's attempt on my part to smooth things over, I felt drained and defeated (despite my administrator's advice not to feel that way at all). Combine this with pregnancy hormones and the chaos that is my multi-tasking life these days, and you've got a considerable mess.
Tonight I logged onto my school Facebook page and scrolled through the news feed, all the usual types of posts from my students--music videos, carefully angled photos taken on cell phones into mirrors, and misspelled updates about the drama of life. Then I noticed a post with my name in it. It read:
dude we have 1 of the best teachers of all time i kno she thinks im playin but shes still best
to mrs O'Shields
This was the student whose truancy conference I attended earlier this week.
Several other students commented and agreed with his post.
These are the moments that remind me it's going to be okay, strange as it is.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Nature vs. Nurture
I hardly ever post here, and that needs to change.
I decided to post today while looking ahead to my plans for next week. I'm going to spend a longish weekend with my birthmother and her family in Knoxville. I dug through my private blog archives (from the long lost, dusty days of MySpace) and pulled up my entries from when I initially found her. I wanted to post them here not just for those who might read them, but also for myself--to remember. It's become so comfortable that I guess I needed to be reminded of how far we've come. So here goes. Memory lane...
~~~~~~~
6/25/06 found her
Current mood: content
I finally got up the nerve to make the call today. Took me several hours of crying and a little panic, but I called. My biggest fear was that I wouldn't know what to say, but she fixed that because she had *so* much to say. Turns out we were both keeping low expectations--she thought I'd only be interested in contacting her for my family's medical/health history in case I ever wanted to have kids; I thought she wouldn't be that interested in getting to know me--and we were both wrong. She's lovely, and what's awesome is that she made it clear that she knows I have a family that I know and love as my *parents* and that she has no intention of trying to take their place. She said she'd very much like to be like a big sister to me, or, as she put it, wherever I can fit her in, she wants to be a part of my life. This is such a relief! Oh, and get this--I have a little brother and sister!!! Aack! For the first time in my life, I'm not an only child! So weird. My sister is 10, and I got to talk to her for a couple of minutes; my brother is 12 and was a little too shy to get on the phone, but considering he's a prepubescent boy, we'll understand that and give him time. : ) Also, she said that my birth father (long story there) has at least two daughters that she knows of, so I have *more* sisters! The thing there was... they got married about a year after she gave me up but separated two years later, sort of a peaceful, mutual "we made a mistake" thing. They still communicate every now and then, apparently. The last time they spoke was a few years ago, and he asked her if she'd heard anything from me yet, but they couldn't have because I wasn't 21. So she said she would give him a call and let him know about me, and eventually I'll probably get to meet him and his family--way more than I expected, since the fathers usually don't want anything to do with the kids in adoption situations. She lives in TN (driving distance, so we may be going up there soon to meet her) and he lives in NJ (definitely not driving that far anytime soon!) where they are both from. So yes--I'm a yankee. DO WHAT NOW?!? (Ana was ecstatic--for those that know Ana, you will understand.) And we figured out that she's where I get my musical side--she and her kids all sing, her son plays guitar, and her daughter plays piano. Her daughter is also in a theater workshop this summer (how ironic since I'm *teaching* theater this summer) and is very much of an artsy turn of mind. She sounds a lot like me at her age. She sent pictures too! She and the kids are all fair-skinned (like me!) and thin (not like me!). She and her daughter have my face shape, nose, and chin, and her daughter has blue eyes like me. Her son doesn't look a bit like me, and he's 5'9" at age 12! Her husband and mine both think we look alike--I see it a little bit, but it'll be interesting to see if we have similar mannerisms and whatnot. It's nice to have this all out in the open.
So that's what's been up... thanks to everyone who prayed for me on the birthmother issue. Things are going great and I suspect they will only get better from here.
6/28/06 so what do *you* think?
Current mood: curious
observe: my half-sister, my birth mother, and me. resemblance?
(little brother has been omitted from comparison, as it seems he is the mini-me of his father, who is not my father)
7/4/06 after 21 years...
Current mood: full
I promised. Here it is.
So for those of you who've been keeping up with the Janae show, I spent the past weekend with my birth mother and her family. It was Family Day at camp (oh the irony) which means all our campers' parents came that afternoon for a long program in which the kids performed all the stuff they'd been working on the last 2 weeks. All that to say, I spent the day running about like a headless chicken, making props and getting costumes in order, so I had exactly zero minutes to think about meeting my birth mother that night. It worked out well, because if you know me, you know ordinarily I'd be nervous as all get out. I mean, who wouldn't? But as soon as post-program cleanup was over, I headed back to the apartment to take care of the puppies, and we left as soon as Scott got in from work, about 5:20. This was the plan: since Scott's mom and dad didn't want to keep the puppies for the weekend, and since boarding costs ridiculous amounts and doesn't even allow them exercise or playtime, and since they're too complicated to get someone else to come and let them out and feed them for 3 days straight, *and* since my husband is too much a protector to let me make the 3-hour drive to Tennessee by myself, he decided he'd drive me up, spend a little time there, drive back, spend Saturday resting from the drive, then drive back up Sunday morning, get our Meggie to come let the puppies out that afternoon, and both of us come back late Sunday night. I tried to talk him out of it, but if you know him, you know how he is. : ) It was only supposed to be a 3-hour drive anyway. We just didn't take into account the holiday traffic. Yeah. We were on I-26 for an hour and a half around Asheville (I think) and went 15 miles. Besides this nice little detour we took in Hendersonville where we got in the middle of road construction and *that* took another hour. We finally reached their house at 10:30. When we got there Chris (birthmother) cried just a bit, and we both laughed a lot, and just sat there at the kitchen table and looked at each other. Not saying much, what is there to say at that point? It just took a while to take it all in, finally meeting a part of you that's been missing 21 years. Weird feeling. So when we finally got past the awkward silence, we talked a bit with Scott and Riley (my ten-year-old sister) while Chris's husband Danny (not my father) and Taylor (my twelve-year-old brother) were kinda bashful and didn't talk much. Eventually Scott left and the boys went to bed, so Chris and Riley and I stayed up till 3am talking. Riley has a mouth like mine, so it was hard to get a word in edgewise and ask the questions I really wanted to ask Chris. It was still cool talking to them though. Riley found my knitting in my bag and wanted to learn. That was also distracting. But fun. The next morning we all sat around--Riley and I knitting, Taylor playing guitar and singing (we figured out where my musicality comes from). Chris decided she wanted to learn to knit too, so we took a trip to Michael's and they got needles and yarn (clearance only--I also figured out where my severe frugality comes from). So when we got back home and all sat there on the loveseat knitting, Taylor played his manly guitar and made fun of us for knitting. Then all of a sudden *he* decided he wanted to learn. But he refuses to call the needles anything but "sticks." Cute kid. We were up late again that night--knitting and having a singalong with Riley's keyboard. Sunday morning we lazed around, and Scott got there before brunch. We spent most of the day just talking and visiting and taking pictures, and of course, knitting. We left out about 8 that night. Chris cried and cried when we left, but I promised her we'd see each other very soon--they're coming down here in a week and a half.
Everyone thinks Chris and I look a lot alike. I definitely see it from the nose down. She's so beautiful though, I don't think I can compare myself to her. Her personality and attitude are very easygoing, not in a hurry, just sweetly and contemplatively enjoying life. She looks very much the California girl and is skinny (darn her) and smiley. She looks and acts a lot younger than her age, so it's hard to think of her as a "mom" at all--I definitely see her as more of a big sister. She's awesome. I think the biggest surprise of the weekend was finding out how truly much she did want to keep me, but she gave me up for my own good and has regretted it ever since, to some degree. She told me over and over, "I wish I'd kept you, but you turned out so much better than you ever could have with me." She's such a sweet woman. Loves God very much, loves her family, loves music, loves animals, loves helping people. She and her husband own a bus company (selling and renting tour buses) and she developed a side business of sign-making and lettering (for the buses) which she uses as kind of a pro bono ministry. She's helping this band from Charleston by making decals and bumper stickers with their name on it, trying to help them with publicity and stuff. That's why they're coming down in a week and a half--the band, Leslie, is playing in downtown Greenville next Thursday night, and she wants the kids to see them in concert.
Speak of the kids--Taylor is 40 trapped in a 12-year-old's body. They don't have cable or satellite at their house (good for them, I say) so he and Riley watch DVD collections of old shows like Andy Griffith, A-Team, McGyver, Dr. Quinn, and his favorite, Dukes of Hazzard. He's amazing on guitar and has such a sweet little voice--pretty deep for a 12-year-old, actually. He likes Johnny Cash and bluegrass, and he likes dressing up. He saved up his own money and bought his first tux when he was 7, and wore it to school. No occasion, just wanted a tux. He's very sarcastic and brainy and just fun. I like him a lot. I taught him to play "Bad Day" on the keyboard and he's gone crazy with it.
Riley is full of energy. She's just like Scott's 10-year-old niece Abby--never quits going. She's always bouncing around and talking and saying "yeah" when you tell her stories or explain things, very much the "oh, of course I understand" type of kid. She looks a lot like me. Except she's skinny and all legs. We have the same profile and eye color (which is weird since Chris and Danny both have brown eyes, and my birthfather who isn't Riley's dad is where I thought I got my eye color) and the same skin. She's also musical (I got her some starter piano books for the keyboard she just got) and craftsy. I was amazed she could sit still long enough to knit. She's loving it though--making clothes for her teddybears. Small steps.
Chris's husband Danny reminds me of everyone at my home church--quiet Southern guy who sits in the corner and doesn't say much, but you know he's paying attention and taking everything in. He's a hardworking, good-natured, supportive guy and a great father to Riley and Taylor. I like him a lot too.
They also have the fluffiest kitty I've ever seen, bar none. Her name is Muffy, and she has long fur growing between her toes. She is the queen of the house, and we bonded over the weekend. They also have a cute dog about Karma's size named Lizzie who has the most gorgeous ice-blue eyes ever.
I feel so blessed to have so many families. My mom and dad and their families are awesome. Scott's family is also awesome. And now I have a third family that is equally awesome. I'm a lucky girl.
Pictures of my weekend are here.
~~~~~~~
One of my kids' vocab words last week was "nurture," and I used my adoption story to illustrate the difference between this and nature. I've always been really interested in the Nature vs. Nurture debate because of my background. Meeting Chris and getting to know her over the past five and a half years has allowed me to come full circle with that and to form my own theories on the argument. I've concluded I'm almost exactly half and half. (And no, that's not a copout.)
If you've met my mom, you know I'm her made over. She came to my school last week to do a cake demo for my kids for careers, and I got to watch her as an instructor... and I realized, though I didn't technically learn teaching from my mom, I picked up on so many of her tendencies. She bounces around--not in an unorganized way, but trying so hard to get in every little detail that's important. Guess who also does that? :) We're alike in too many ways to count. I inherited her workaholism, her drive, and her inability to say "no" to anyone... among other things.
Then there's Chris. Chris is where I got my music--and that, to me, is at least a third of who I am, despite how exaggerated that might sound to some. (It's kind of like that movie August Rush, except way less dramatic.) I also got my psychoanalytical side from her, I think, and a little bit of OCD, and possibly some of my love for animals... and other things I'm continuing to learn more about.
It makes me wonder what, if anything, I got from my birthfather. Am I like him at all? I'm not a great deal like Dad (though I love him dearly and am my Daddy's girl through and through), so I wonder if maybe who I am is primarily an amalgamation of my moms. Maybe he was just the one who made my blue eyes blue. Thinking about it makes me wonder, probably for the eightieth time, will I ever get to find out?
Well, that's enough soul-baring for one week. Off to lesson planning and playwriting!
I decided to post today while looking ahead to my plans for next week. I'm going to spend a longish weekend with my birthmother and her family in Knoxville. I dug through my private blog archives (from the long lost, dusty days of MySpace) and pulled up my entries from when I initially found her. I wanted to post them here not just for those who might read them, but also for myself--to remember. It's become so comfortable that I guess I needed to be reminded of how far we've come. So here goes. Memory lane...
~~~~~~~
6/25/06 found her
Current mood: content
I finally got up the nerve to make the call today. Took me several hours of crying and a little panic, but I called. My biggest fear was that I wouldn't know what to say, but she fixed that because she had *so* much to say. Turns out we were both keeping low expectations--she thought I'd only be interested in contacting her for my family's medical/health history in case I ever wanted to have kids; I thought she wouldn't be that interested in getting to know me--and we were both wrong. She's lovely, and what's awesome is that she made it clear that she knows I have a family that I know and love as my *parents* and that she has no intention of trying to take their place. She said she'd very much like to be like a big sister to me, or, as she put it, wherever I can fit her in, she wants to be a part of my life. This is such a relief! Oh, and get this--I have a little brother and sister!!! Aack! For the first time in my life, I'm not an only child! So weird. My sister is 10, and I got to talk to her for a couple of minutes; my brother is 12 and was a little too shy to get on the phone, but considering he's a prepubescent boy, we'll understand that and give him time. : ) Also, she said that my birth father (long story there) has at least two daughters that she knows of, so I have *more* sisters! The thing there was... they got married about a year after she gave me up but separated two years later, sort of a peaceful, mutual "we made a mistake" thing. They still communicate every now and then, apparently. The last time they spoke was a few years ago, and he asked her if she'd heard anything from me yet, but they couldn't have because I wasn't 21. So she said she would give him a call and let him know about me, and eventually I'll probably get to meet him and his family--way more than I expected, since the fathers usually don't want anything to do with the kids in adoption situations. She lives in TN (driving distance, so we may be going up there soon to meet her) and he lives in NJ (definitely not driving that far anytime soon!) where they are both from. So yes--I'm a yankee. DO WHAT NOW?!? (Ana was ecstatic--for those that know Ana, you will understand.) And we figured out that she's where I get my musical side--she and her kids all sing, her son plays guitar, and her daughter plays piano. Her daughter is also in a theater workshop this summer (how ironic since I'm *teaching* theater this summer) and is very much of an artsy turn of mind. She sounds a lot like me at her age. She sent pictures too! She and the kids are all fair-skinned (like me!) and thin (not like me!). She and her daughter have my face shape, nose, and chin, and her daughter has blue eyes like me. Her son doesn't look a bit like me, and he's 5'9" at age 12! Her husband and mine both think we look alike--I see it a little bit, but it'll be interesting to see if we have similar mannerisms and whatnot. It's nice to have this all out in the open.
So that's what's been up... thanks to everyone who prayed for me on the birthmother issue. Things are going great and I suspect they will only get better from here.
6/28/06 so what do *you* think?
Current mood: curious
observe: my half-sister, my birth mother, and me. resemblance?
(little brother has been omitted from comparison, as it seems he is the mini-me of his father, who is not my father)
7/4/06 after 21 years...
Current mood: full
I promised. Here it is.
So for those of you who've been keeping up with the Janae show, I spent the past weekend with my birth mother and her family. It was Family Day at camp (oh the irony) which means all our campers' parents came that afternoon for a long program in which the kids performed all the stuff they'd been working on the last 2 weeks. All that to say, I spent the day running about like a headless chicken, making props and getting costumes in order, so I had exactly zero minutes to think about meeting my birth mother that night. It worked out well, because if you know me, you know ordinarily I'd be nervous as all get out. I mean, who wouldn't? But as soon as post-program cleanup was over, I headed back to the apartment to take care of the puppies, and we left as soon as Scott got in from work, about 5:20. This was the plan: since Scott's mom and dad didn't want to keep the puppies for the weekend, and since boarding costs ridiculous amounts and doesn't even allow them exercise or playtime, and since they're too complicated to get someone else to come and let them out and feed them for 3 days straight, *and* since my husband is too much a protector to let me make the 3-hour drive to Tennessee by myself, he decided he'd drive me up, spend a little time there, drive back, spend Saturday resting from the drive, then drive back up Sunday morning, get our Meggie to come let the puppies out that afternoon, and both of us come back late Sunday night. I tried to talk him out of it, but if you know him, you know how he is. : ) It was only supposed to be a 3-hour drive anyway. We just didn't take into account the holiday traffic. Yeah. We were on I-26 for an hour and a half around Asheville (I think) and went 15 miles. Besides this nice little detour we took in Hendersonville where we got in the middle of road construction and *that* took another hour. We finally reached their house at 10:30. When we got there Chris (birthmother) cried just a bit, and we both laughed a lot, and just sat there at the kitchen table and looked at each other. Not saying much, what is there to say at that point? It just took a while to take it all in, finally meeting a part of you that's been missing 21 years. Weird feeling. So when we finally got past the awkward silence, we talked a bit with Scott and Riley (my ten-year-old sister) while Chris's husband Danny (not my father) and Taylor (my twelve-year-old brother) were kinda bashful and didn't talk much. Eventually Scott left and the boys went to bed, so Chris and Riley and I stayed up till 3am talking. Riley has a mouth like mine, so it was hard to get a word in edgewise and ask the questions I really wanted to ask Chris. It was still cool talking to them though. Riley found my knitting in my bag and wanted to learn. That was also distracting. But fun. The next morning we all sat around--Riley and I knitting, Taylor playing guitar and singing (we figured out where my musicality comes from). Chris decided she wanted to learn to knit too, so we took a trip to Michael's and they got needles and yarn (clearance only--I also figured out where my severe frugality comes from). So when we got back home and all sat there on the loveseat knitting, Taylor played his manly guitar and made fun of us for knitting. Then all of a sudden *he* decided he wanted to learn. But he refuses to call the needles anything but "sticks." Cute kid. We were up late again that night--knitting and having a singalong with Riley's keyboard. Sunday morning we lazed around, and Scott got there before brunch. We spent most of the day just talking and visiting and taking pictures, and of course, knitting. We left out about 8 that night. Chris cried and cried when we left, but I promised her we'd see each other very soon--they're coming down here in a week and a half.
Everyone thinks Chris and I look a lot alike. I definitely see it from the nose down. She's so beautiful though, I don't think I can compare myself to her. Her personality and attitude are very easygoing, not in a hurry, just sweetly and contemplatively enjoying life. She looks very much the California girl and is skinny (darn her) and smiley. She looks and acts a lot younger than her age, so it's hard to think of her as a "mom" at all--I definitely see her as more of a big sister. She's awesome. I think the biggest surprise of the weekend was finding out how truly much she did want to keep me, but she gave me up for my own good and has regretted it ever since, to some degree. She told me over and over, "I wish I'd kept you, but you turned out so much better than you ever could have with me." She's such a sweet woman. Loves God very much, loves her family, loves music, loves animals, loves helping people. She and her husband own a bus company (selling and renting tour buses) and she developed a side business of sign-making and lettering (for the buses) which she uses as kind of a pro bono ministry. She's helping this band from Charleston by making decals and bumper stickers with their name on it, trying to help them with publicity and stuff. That's why they're coming down in a week and a half--the band, Leslie, is playing in downtown Greenville next Thursday night, and she wants the kids to see them in concert.
Speak of the kids--Taylor is 40 trapped in a 12-year-old's body. They don't have cable or satellite at their house (good for them, I say) so he and Riley watch DVD collections of old shows like Andy Griffith, A-Team, McGyver, Dr. Quinn, and his favorite, Dukes of Hazzard. He's amazing on guitar and has such a sweet little voice--pretty deep for a 12-year-old, actually. He likes Johnny Cash and bluegrass, and he likes dressing up. He saved up his own money and bought his first tux when he was 7, and wore it to school. No occasion, just wanted a tux. He's very sarcastic and brainy and just fun. I like him a lot. I taught him to play "Bad Day" on the keyboard and he's gone crazy with it.
Riley is full of energy. She's just like Scott's 10-year-old niece Abby--never quits going. She's always bouncing around and talking and saying "yeah" when you tell her stories or explain things, very much the "oh, of course I understand" type of kid. She looks a lot like me. Except she's skinny and all legs. We have the same profile and eye color (which is weird since Chris and Danny both have brown eyes, and my birthfather who isn't Riley's dad is where I thought I got my eye color) and the same skin. She's also musical (I got her some starter piano books for the keyboard she just got) and craftsy. I was amazed she could sit still long enough to knit. She's loving it though--making clothes for her teddybears. Small steps.
Chris's husband Danny reminds me of everyone at my home church--quiet Southern guy who sits in the corner and doesn't say much, but you know he's paying attention and taking everything in. He's a hardworking, good-natured, supportive guy and a great father to Riley and Taylor. I like him a lot too.
They also have the fluffiest kitty I've ever seen, bar none. Her name is Muffy, and she has long fur growing between her toes. She is the queen of the house, and we bonded over the weekend. They also have a cute dog about Karma's size named Lizzie who has the most gorgeous ice-blue eyes ever.
I feel so blessed to have so many families. My mom and dad and their families are awesome. Scott's family is also awesome. And now I have a third family that is equally awesome. I'm a lucky girl.
Pictures of my weekend are here.
~~~~~~~
One of my kids' vocab words last week was "nurture," and I used my adoption story to illustrate the difference between this and nature. I've always been really interested in the Nature vs. Nurture debate because of my background. Meeting Chris and getting to know her over the past five and a half years has allowed me to come full circle with that and to form my own theories on the argument. I've concluded I'm almost exactly half and half. (And no, that's not a copout.)
If you've met my mom, you know I'm her made over. She came to my school last week to do a cake demo for my kids for careers, and I got to watch her as an instructor... and I realized, though I didn't technically learn teaching from my mom, I picked up on so many of her tendencies. She bounces around--not in an unorganized way, but trying so hard to get in every little detail that's important. Guess who also does that? :) We're alike in too many ways to count. I inherited her workaholism, her drive, and her inability to say "no" to anyone... among other things.
Then there's Chris. Chris is where I got my music--and that, to me, is at least a third of who I am, despite how exaggerated that might sound to some. (It's kind of like that movie August Rush, except way less dramatic.) I also got my psychoanalytical side from her, I think, and a little bit of OCD, and possibly some of my love for animals... and other things I'm continuing to learn more about.
It makes me wonder what, if anything, I got from my birthfather. Am I like him at all? I'm not a great deal like Dad (though I love him dearly and am my Daddy's girl through and through), so I wonder if maybe who I am is primarily an amalgamation of my moms. Maybe he was just the one who made my blue eyes blue. Thinking about it makes me wonder, probably for the eightieth time, will I ever get to find out?
Well, that's enough soul-baring for one week. Off to lesson planning and playwriting!
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Get cash back when you shop online!
A good way to get free cash by doing things you already do is to shop online through sponsored links. You can do this through several different sites, and you can compare cashback rates to get the most money back for your time.
Check out my Get Paid to Click post for info about companies like MyPoints and InboxDollars. These sites do paid shopping, and the cashback rates change from time to time for various websites.
Shop at Home is another great site. Shop through their links and you receive a percentage back on whatever you spent. Cashout comes when you reach $20. Refer and friend and get $5 added to your account!
Check out my Get Paid to Click post for info about companies like MyPoints and InboxDollars. These sites do paid shopping, and the cashback rates change from time to time for various websites.
Shop at Home is another great site. Shop through their links and you receive a percentage back on whatever you spent. Cashout comes when you reach $20. Refer and friend and get $5 added to your account!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
23 Things You Don't Need (All You)
I love All You magazine. It's the best coupon mag out there, and they always have great little articles (and e-articles) about saving time and money, along with recipes and cute ideas for home. (If you ever see a deal online for a year's subscription at a discount, grab it up; you'll thank me later.)
Today's e-mail feature article is "23 Household Products You Don't Need to Buy." It's a list of other uses for common household items that you can use instead of buying other one-purpose products. It's really interesting and worth the few minutes it takes to scroll through. Did you know you can rub out scuff marks with a banana peel?! Pretty cool. Check it out!
Today's e-mail feature article is "23 Household Products You Don't Need to Buy." It's a list of other uses for common household items that you can use instead of buying other one-purpose products. It's really interesting and worth the few minutes it takes to scroll through. Did you know you can rub out scuff marks with a banana peel?! Pretty cool. Check it out!
Monday, May 23, 2011
525,600 minutes
I realized I hadn't posted a personal blog in a while. I should, in case anyone actually reads this.
I hate endings. I know they're a necessary and natural part of life, but I don't like them. I also know that when anything ends, it opens up a door for something new to begin, and that's great; but I still find endings difficult and beginnings intimidating.
There are a lot of endings on my mind lately. One thing I absolutely hate about my line of work is having to say goodbye to kids. It's in my nature/nurture-induced character to attach easily to people, and that makes goodbyes really, really difficult. As a teacher, every May I'm forced to say goodbye, and sometimes even before then.
I think I can say at this point without any air of secrecy that it's been a rough year for Jonesville. In April, we said goodbye to an assistant principal who encouraged me throughout my first two years of teaching, and an administrative assistant with one of the biggest hearts in the world. On the first of May, we lost our art teacher unexpectedly to a plethora of health issues that culminated in what seemed like an untimely death. And in the past couple of months, we've had to get used to the idea that our amazing principal will be leaving us for the high school when the year ends. This, in addition to the usual goodbyes that the end of the year imposes, has sort of overloaded me emotionally.
To top it off, I have another bittersweet goodbye in order; I learned last week that I will no longer be teaching at Sims. At this point I'm slated to split my days between Jonesville and Lockhart next year, but that could change before August. I learned a lot during my year at Sims, I grew as a teacher, and I became close to a few students, though not quite so many as I have at Jonesville. I will miss those kids, as well as the administrators who have been so graciously welcoming and encouraging to me this year. However, I think the two smaller schools will be a better fit for me, since I grew up in a small school and tend to prefer closer-knit environments. Still, my dream teaching situation would be to stay at Jonesville full-time like I did my first year. (But don't get me wrong; I'm grateful to have a job, especially in a time like this, and I think the change will be a positive one.)
Tomorrow my Jonesville 8th graders will graduate, and I will reluctantly say goodbye to several of them. I didn't get as close to this graduating class as a whole (not by a longshot in comparison to last year's group), but there's a handful that I'll really and truly miss.
I guess it's Jonesville tradition for a chorus of 8th graders to sing at graduation, and last year I became involved in the preparations for this (which is now apparently becoming tradition as well). A chorus that included some of my favorites sang "For Good" from Wicked, and I bawled like a baby at the lyrics that rang so true of these kids. This year some of my favorites will sing "Seasons of Love" from Rent (when I'm involved, you'd better bet there will be Broadway!), and like last year, I'm getting emotional about it. I've always been hit pretty hard by the lyrics. That goes double for this year.
525,600 minutes
525,000 moments so dear.
525,600 minutes
how do you measure, measure a year
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In 525,600 minutes
how do you measure a year in the life
How about love
Measure in love
Seasons of love
525,600 minutes
525,000 journeys to plan
525,600 minutes
how can you measure the life of a woman or man
In truths that she learned
Or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned
Or the way that she died
It's time now to sing out
Though the story never ends
let's celebrate
remember a year in the life of friends
How about love
Measure in love
Seasons of love
In diapers, report cards
in spoke wheels
in speeding tickets
in contracts
in dollars
in funerals and births.
525,600 minutes
how do you figure our last year on earth
figure in love
measure in love
How do you measure a year? Especially a year as eventful as this one has been. I think it will suffice to say that I'll measure this year in memories. And by that scale, it's definitely been a big one.
I hate endings. I know they're a necessary and natural part of life, but I don't like them. I also know that when anything ends, it opens up a door for something new to begin, and that's great; but I still find endings difficult and beginnings intimidating.
There are a lot of endings on my mind lately. One thing I absolutely hate about my line of work is having to say goodbye to kids. It's in my nature/nurture-induced character to attach easily to people, and that makes goodbyes really, really difficult. As a teacher, every May I'm forced to say goodbye, and sometimes even before then.
I think I can say at this point without any air of secrecy that it's been a rough year for Jonesville. In April, we said goodbye to an assistant principal who encouraged me throughout my first two years of teaching, and an administrative assistant with one of the biggest hearts in the world. On the first of May, we lost our art teacher unexpectedly to a plethora of health issues that culminated in what seemed like an untimely death. And in the past couple of months, we've had to get used to the idea that our amazing principal will be leaving us for the high school when the year ends. This, in addition to the usual goodbyes that the end of the year imposes, has sort of overloaded me emotionally.
To top it off, I have another bittersweet goodbye in order; I learned last week that I will no longer be teaching at Sims. At this point I'm slated to split my days between Jonesville and Lockhart next year, but that could change before August. I learned a lot during my year at Sims, I grew as a teacher, and I became close to a few students, though not quite so many as I have at Jonesville. I will miss those kids, as well as the administrators who have been so graciously welcoming and encouraging to me this year. However, I think the two smaller schools will be a better fit for me, since I grew up in a small school and tend to prefer closer-knit environments. Still, my dream teaching situation would be to stay at Jonesville full-time like I did my first year. (But don't get me wrong; I'm grateful to have a job, especially in a time like this, and I think the change will be a positive one.)
Tomorrow my Jonesville 8th graders will graduate, and I will reluctantly say goodbye to several of them. I didn't get as close to this graduating class as a whole (not by a longshot in comparison to last year's group), but there's a handful that I'll really and truly miss.
I guess it's Jonesville tradition for a chorus of 8th graders to sing at graduation, and last year I became involved in the preparations for this (which is now apparently becoming tradition as well). A chorus that included some of my favorites sang "For Good" from Wicked, and I bawled like a baby at the lyrics that rang so true of these kids. This year some of my favorites will sing "Seasons of Love" from Rent (when I'm involved, you'd better bet there will be Broadway!), and like last year, I'm getting emotional about it. I've always been hit pretty hard by the lyrics. That goes double for this year.
525,600 minutes
525,000 moments so dear.
525,600 minutes
how do you measure, measure a year
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In 525,600 minutes
how do you measure a year in the life
How about love
Measure in love
Seasons of love
525,600 minutes
525,000 journeys to plan
525,600 minutes
how can you measure the life of a woman or man
In truths that she learned
Or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned
Or the way that she died
It's time now to sing out
Though the story never ends
let's celebrate
remember a year in the life of friends
How about love
Measure in love
Seasons of love
In diapers, report cards
in spoke wheels
in speeding tickets
in contracts
in dollars
in funerals and births.
525,600 minutes
how do you figure our last year on earth
figure in love
measure in love
How do you measure a year? Especially a year as eventful as this one has been. I think it will suffice to say that I'll measure this year in memories. And by that scale, it's definitely been a big one.
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