Blog Archives

My Big(gish) Girl

Happy 8th Month Petals!

Petals Stuff:

  • Last week, Petals began waving.   It’s pretty hit or miss, and I’m not always sure what her waving means, but she’s doing it!  It’s also hilarious because she waves with the palm of her hand facing her instead of facing outwards, and she kind of just shakes her arm around in the air instead of just moving her wrist.
  • Petals spent the night with grandparents where she played with cats and tried juice for the first time.  Apparently, she’s not a fan – of juice, anyway.  She had a great time with her grandparents and aunt and uncles.
  • Petals learned about the joys of string cheese.
  • We’ve finally got a sleep routine that works!  No more screaming nights…I hope!
  • Just when I was ready to give in and buy some formula, Petals decided that she needed to nurse every two hours again.  While I’m pleased that she’s back at the breast, I’m also a little peeved that my through-the-night sleeper is back to her newborn schedule.

Me Stuff:

  • I have yet to make it through one week of “cooking” meals from home, though I am making progress.  We only ate out two nights last week! On Sunday, I made brown rice to accompany delicious beef panang left over from date night.  On Monday, I made pasta, sausages, and asparagus/mushroom/onion saute.  On Tuesday, I had leftovers from Monday for lunch – which was awesome.  Then I went to Zumba, which was also awesome, which means that I had nary the time nor inclination to cook when I got home.  We ate hot dogs.  Wednesday, I was back at it.  I baked some chicken in cream of mushroom soup, made Brussels sprouts with pancetta and balsamic vinegar, and more of the brown rice.  Thursday we had hibachi from Japan Express.  Friday I made “Green Eggs and Ham” – translate: Spinach Eggs and Bacon.
  • Speaking of food, at school one of the teachers has been keeping a Big Mac in her classroom since the beginning of last semester.  As I’d seen before on numerous websites, it still looks the same, smells the same, and demonstrates the chemical nature of fast food treatment.  It was disgusting.  That said, I still want to eat a Big Mac.  I know.  I know.  (Although, later I read that according to an experiment conducting over at Serious Eats, apparently this is not unique to McDonald’s burgers – that other burgers, even homemade ones, do not “rot” either.  Thanks J. Kenji Lopez-Alt.  That makes me feel better about some of the decisions I’ve made in my life.)
  • It’s the end of the semester, and I’m getting those “beginning of the year” jitters again.  Who will these kids be?  How will this semester go?
  • Speaking of school, I am very frustrated with new projects and undertakings.  I realize that I need to calm down, go back, and rethink my strategy.  But at the moment I’m too frustrated to do that.  So I’m going to eat some ice cream instead.

And oh yeah, about the formula.

I still haven’t made a final decision about the formula.  I recognize that she’s happy, healthy, and growing well.  But I do worry that the nature of my work, which doesn’t allow me to go to the bathroom on a regular basis let alone take a sixty minutes a day to pump (three twenty-minute breaks ain’t happenin’ at when you’ve got classes of kids to teach), means that my dwindling milk supply won’t be enough to satisfy her at school.  I don’t want the kid to go eight hours with only one measly bottle of milk.  Yes, she’s eating other foods, but don’t babies need milk?

Sigh.  I thought I had the kinks to this breastfeeding thing worked out months ago.

I might need to eat some ice cream now.

Shopping – Wife Style

The Boy is ill.

Poor thing.

He got a flu shot with the hopes of avoiding getting the flu.  Seeing as how we have a lil’ baby, this was a responsible move.  However, the flu shot gave him the flu.  Well, at least, it gave him “flu-like symptoms”.  Watery eyes, aching muscles, general sluggishness, lack of appetite.

He sounded so horrible when I called to check on him that I wasn’t sure I had the right number.  He felt so gross that he left work early on Thursday, and, by the time I arrived, the house was still dark and he still abed.  Not one sign of him working on the sly.  (He is known to do this – work while he’s supposed to be resting.)  So when he asked me to pick some food up for him, Thursday evening, I stopped by Wendy’s to grab a small chilli, a small fry, and a small frosty.  Something warm, something cold, something bland – perfect sickie food.

Today, before picking up the baby, I stopped off by the grocery store to pick up some sick-person supplies.  OTC meds, orange juice, canned soups (chicken noodle and tomato), and wine.  The last one was for me.  I also grabbed some bananas, an avocado, and salad greens.  I came home, tied a baby to my hips, and set to work making grilled egg-in-the-hole sandwiches and tomato soup for dinner.  The Boy informed me that he hadn’t been able to eat all day.

“I tried to get some food,” he rasped.  “But I just couldn’t eat it.”

I looked in the fridge to find a disposable Taco Bell container staring me in the face.  The Baja Blast Mountain Dew was sweating all over the coffee table in front of my sick husband.



“Note: when I go sick people shopping, I pick up Vitamin C and soup.  When you go sick people shopping, you pick up an XXL Grilled Stuft – not “stuffed”, by the way, “stuft” – Burrito and a Mountain Dew.  I pick up chilli, and you pick up…food not intended for sick people.  See the difference?”

“It was a chalupa…” he said, indignantly.  “Cha-lu-pa.”

Teaching to Distraction

Some days, I wish I worked at a job where I could walk in, do my work, and go home.

But I can’t do that, because I’m a teacher.

  • I wish that I didn’t have to put on a happy face upon entering the building.
  • I wish that I didn’t have to hide my food, because any kid seeing it is going to say “Hey, thanks for bringing me that Bojangle’s,” or “Ooh, what are you eating?” or “Should you be eating that?” or “I can’t believe you’re eating that without giving me any.”
  • I wish that I could hold a conversation with one person without having another person repeatedly shouting my name and sucking in their breath when I don’t immediately respond.
  • I wish that I could talk to one student without feeling taps on my opposite shoulder or seeing the backs of someone’s hands repeatedly covering my eyes and asking “Guess who?!”
  • I wish I could drive down the street without waving to everyone.
  • I wish I could go to the bathroom or close the door to my room without having some kid think they’re entitled to enter at will.
  • I wish that my students could see me working and know that perhaps their IMMEDIATE NEED to tell me who fell in the lunchroom can wait a couple of seconds.
  • I wish that I could clean my dry erase board without immediately having to clean it again because of flowers and hearts and “I love you”s and “Your the coolest teacher” (sic).
  • I wish that I could go home without taking the cares of my kids with me.
But then, it seems, just when I’m frustrated the most, someone comes along and makes my job worthwhile.
  • A kid says thanks for caring about what happens to me when I go home.  Thanks for asking about that thing that happened that time.
  • A kid shares a funny story with me because they knew I would like it – or emails me a picture of an otter because they know otters make me happy.
  • A coworker tells me I look snazzy in a new top and commiserates with me about the stresses of my job.
  • A parent sees me in the store and tells me how much their kid has learned from being in my classroom.
  • A kid brings me a cupcake that they made in foods class, making sure that it doesn’t have too much icing because they remember me saying that I don’t like the icing that much.
  • People wave to me and smile at me when I walk in, because they’re happy to see me.
  • My board gets covered with flowers and hearts and I love you’s and “your…i mean you’re…the coolest teacher”s.
  • A former student comes to visit and says that the thing that we learned that they didn’t think they’d need…they actually did need.
  • Heavens forfend, someone actually learns something!
And I become re-addicted to teaching all over again.