Social Studies

Middle school has a bad reputation. Among subsititute teachers, the word on the street is to avoid middle school at all costs.

And I am no expert after one and a half days at that level, but I gotta tell you, middle school is okay.

Today, the lesson was on Thomas Paine; it was fun to take Paine's concept of the "sunshine patriot" and attempt to make it a relevant concept for the students. Loved it - and they were old enough to hang in there with with me. The curriculim was challenging, and by and large the kids were well behaved - not necessarily engaged - but not bouncing off the walls either. Be not afraid of 6th - 8th graders!!

I am substituting in public school. Molly attended public school for grades 1-8 and attended private school for kindergarten and high school. I can't help but picture her in these classrooms. She always had excellent grades, and her teachers loved her for that, but was she involved? Would she have contributed to the discussion today on patriotism? Was she nice to the subs?

Molly is a part of everyday that I am in a classroom and I am helpless not to wonder if this teaching gig is moving me forward or if it is, instead, miring me in memories and imaginings that I have no way to verify. Perhaps a little bit of both.

My guess is that Molly wouldn't have cared one wit about Thomas Paine; she is the kid who resfused to say the pledge of allegiance at camp and never expressed a great sense of national pride. But - she would have gotten an A on the test.

For my part, even acknowledging the memories, I know that I loved the opportuinty to work with young teenagers on such an important topic.

Is teaching my next career? I'll keep you posted.

Building a New Life

Building a new life is a full time job and then some.

I suppose that most of us have had to re-evaluate our lives after a life-blow. And if you haven't, I imagine that you will.

And to be fair, I guess I have done this before: figuring out how to be a partner, a mother, an adult. But in each of those transitions I had youth on my side; I intuitively knew that part and parcel of relative youth is the the gift of second chances.

Maturity offers few second chances, and the sense of time infinitely opening up in front of me is GONE. If I am going to make a change, learn a new skill, find a new path, I have to do it now, and get it right in the process. I am in the midst of a once in a life time opportunity.

At least that's what my brain keeps telling me.

It is now or never this time, and I have never felt more responsible for who I am and what I create of my life.

So... whatever else this year "off" is, it is not stress free! I am busier than I have ever been, stetching to learn as many new things as I can and taking myself seriously.

Wonder how long this new engagement will last. I will keep you posted.

Thanksgiving

Yesterday, in the grocery store, I recognized within myself an overwhelming sense of contentment. I was fresh off of a flight into California that had been majestic - an incredible view of snow covered mountains peeking out from a brilliantly white cloud cover. It was a glmpse into eternity that convinces you that God is real and that our lives are sustained by a loving creator.

So as I was walking through the frozen foods, tyring to select a pie for dessert (bakers we are not!) my life just seemed right. The family was gathering; we are healthy; the weather was great.

And yet, within that contentment was a void - a space - that Molly should have been filling. Checking out the frozen dessert, I was overwhelmed with a sense that Molly would make the moment complete. And on the heels of that thought hovered the second one - unbidden - reminding my that I will never again feel the completeness that Molly made possible. She would have told us not to bother about dessert - I bought a pecan pie anyway.

And then the night. I am middle aged enough to have troubles sleeping on a somewhat cyclical basis. Ugh. The day had been wonderful; Thanksgiving was coming. But the sleep would not come, and all night Molly's death haunted me.

As much as I might try to leave her life in God's hands, I am still a mom with a hole in my very soul that will never again be filled.

The beauty of my flight into California could not help but remind me that life is more than we understand; that life beyond death is not as distant as we might imagine. And I may have felt Molly's presence primarily through her absence this holiday, but she has been here. She has been here.

Spending the Day Alone

Left to my own devices, I am a recluse. I don't know if it has to do with poor self esteem or just a general personality tendency, but the bottom line is that it is work for me to be with large groups of people and I crave time to myself.

And today, I am home alone. My partner has headed out to California ahead of me, and I am hanging around at home to go to class tomorrow night and to (hopefully) substitute teach during the day.

So, I have the house to myself and 100% freedom to do anything that I want to do. I'd like to think that I spent the day eating really healthy foods, exercising, reading significant litereature and doing my art class homework. After all, that's what I have been doing just about everyday since I quit my job.

I did do the art class homework.

But other than that, breakfast was a chai latte and a cranberry bliss bar from Starbucks; dinner was wine; and I spent some time on You Tube reliving the engagement of William and Kate and the antics of the Osmonds' careers.

Okay, okay, okay. I'll rephrase. It was a lot of time on You Tube.

Don't lose faith in me. Please. I may like spending time alone, but it's pretty clear to me that I am at with my best when I am with people!

Fixing Things...

We upgraded our master bathroom this summer from what I would call "dorm room chic" to something more along the lines of "grown up." No whirpool - no tub - no sauna - but the shower is new and modern and I like it.

This week, not 10 weeks since it was installed, the shower would only produce cold water. This brought to mind images of taking down the tile wall to get at the plumbing and paying thousands of dollars to re-do and/or repair the entire thing. Not great images.

Normally, even without discussing it, the understanding would be that the shower was my partner's to deal with. She is good with contractors, plumbers and electricians and I am perfectly happy to let her handle those "Ms. Fix It" items as they come up.

But this week, while I was standing near - but not quite in - the cold shower, I noticed that a valve cover was loose. This was new. With a bit of curiosity, I opened the cover, revealing a fairly straightforward screw.

Hmmm.... I was tempted. What would happen if I unscrewed the screw? Is their electricity invovlved with the shower pump? (yes, I asked myself this) Will I make everything worse? Will water come shooting out of the pipe?

In an unusual, and somewhat unfamiliar, boost of confidence I decided to unscrew the screw, separating some valve components and revealing some non-descript movable parts. So far, so good: no water was pouring from the pipe; I lived to tell the tale.

Now what? Figuring I had not much to lose, I moved some of those non-descript movable parts in no particular direction, screwed the thing back together and turned on the water. (I did all of this quickly, figuring I had about 30 seconds before the plumbing would all fall apart in some disastrous way that I wouldn't be abele to fix.)

And there was hot water. Yes, Hot water. I fixed the shower. The sense of accomplishment with this is overwhelming - not becuase it was hard to do (because it wasn't) but because I had the courage to try. I had an idea, and I acted on it. I was a willing to take a risk.

In some ways, its a tangible example of growth that I know I am experiencing, but can't quantify and have no good way of evaluating. I am doing okay as a substitute teacher, for example, but there are no road marks to let me know how well I am doing or what mistakes I am making. One does not get immediate results from substituting or exercising or anything that I am doing right now.

So when that shower poured out hot water and I had clearly succeeded in an unfamiliar task, I latched onto the feeling of success like an omen. I am learning. I am getting stronger. I am embracing new experiences. And it is good.

Vacation!

We are heading out to Palm Springs, California for Thanksgiving next week, and I am really looking forward to it. I know... I know... I quit my job and I am on a permanent vacation of sorts and I probably should not need a vacation. But I do.

I have crammed SO MUCH into this first month of "unemployment." My first gigs as a substitute teacher, doing some editing for my old job and doing some networking in case I need to get a new job. I've done my school homework, exercised and taken the time to actually cook some meals. A vacation sounds like a darn good idea!

In addition to a vacation, I really want to celebrate Thanksgiving. This will be our second holiday season without Molly. Last year, we celebrated Thanksgiving in California (we have family there), and it feels right to fly out there again.

When Molly was alive, we would often rent a condo in Florida for the Thanksgiving week; it was a way to get away, spend time as a family, and just recharge our batteries. They were some of my favorite holidays ever - laid back, comforting and familiar. My guess is that it would be almost impossible for my parnter and I to settle into Florida for the holiday week again - Molly's absence would overwhelm us.

On the other hand, if I take the extra weight of holiday memories off of a place, I have enjoyed re-visiting places that Molly loved. Molly visited California a lot and was very much a part of the family out there. It will be great to visit and celebrate Thanksgiving in a fresh way - in a place that Molly knew and with people that she loved.

Our holidays will never be the same - and I don't expect them to be. But we will still have holidays. It's time for new traditions that honor our past and celebrate today. And it is time for a vacation!

Exhaustion and Authenticity

I was really tired driving home from school tonight. I almost missed my exit, practically caused several accidents, and felt mysef getting too close to the cement lane dividers. In the past (yes, it has happened before) that type of drive home has been the result of emotional exhaustion.

Today, I can assure you, my bad drive was the result of physical exhaustion. After teaching 2nd grade all day, walking a 5K, and taking my evening art class, I am tired for all the right reasons: a day well spent, challenges met and new skills learned - if not mastered.

This new life, where I go to school and do hard work that doesn't pay much, is costing us about $50,000 a year. At least $50,000 a year. I was worth way more money sitting behind a desk that I am worth in a classroom.

But I was exhausted for all the wrong reasons when I was sitting at a desk. I used to end the day exhausted from office politics, worn out from an excessive commute and bored with the work that I was doing. My days lacked authenticity.

Authenticity may cost something - it may cost tens of thousands of dollars a year and a lot of exhausting effort. It is a price I am privliged to be able to pay.