Moving Forward Is Sooooo Hard

Mentally I have a paper bag to my mouth and my head between my knees right now, hyperventilating. 

Why? 

Because I started my new space. And I'm not saying this my last post on My Path to Mommyhood, mostly because I like to leave doors open (literally, I am physically incapable of closing cabinet/closet/bedroom/bathroom doors all the way, just ask Bryce), I don't want to say LAST. I'm keeping this space open. 

But, the NEW (albeit still under construction) space is here, with a brand-spanking new first post: 

Finding A Different Path

I am excited at a new adventure. I've had support in making this move for a while, and it's just that taking the actual leap is SO HARD. I don't like to let go of things. I keep singleton socks far longer than they deserve, because I just keep holding out that the missing one will magically appear. I have underwear I bought forever ago that doesn't even fit but I can't bring myself to throw it out (some of them have cupcakes on them! Although cupcakes are probably one reason they don't fit anymore). I keep pens that have run out ink for some reason. Oh, and once upon a time I did 13 cycles of IVF, which also is indicative of my complete inability to LET THINGS GO. 

So I'm going to cheat. I'm linking to Finding a Different Path here but not retiring this space. Once I figure out how to do tabs in the new space, I want to have a way to link to this space too. If that's even possible. I kind of need some blog-tech-savvy help on some of the ideas I have rattling around. It took me the better part of the day to just get a basic setup going. 

I am excited to write under an umbrella that matches my authentic experience -- I've felt wrong about being known as "My Path to Mommyhood" now that it's been so long since I've actually been on that path. "Mommy" has absolutely nothing to do with me. This space holds ten+ years of my life -- unimaginable pain, joy and hope, and a resiliency that I'm so proud of. But it's time to move forward and show that I am truly embracing this path I'm on. 

I write because it helps me to process, but I write for the community, too. This community has saved me time and time again and I am SO grateful to you for reading, for sharing in my pain and joy and ridiculous laughter, for helping me to feel less alone and hopefully for me to return that favor to some of you. I am excited to continue being a part of the community, just differently! 

Thanks and see ya later! (Like really, please see me later, I am feeling a smidge insecure and needy about this whole change thing. A friendly comment would make me feel so much less like I'm entering into the Bermuda Triangle of blogging...) 

Taking the Plunge

I did something on Saturday that scared me. Every so often, I like to push myself to do something outside my comfort zone, even though I fully admit that I will be neurotic and vocally fearful leading up to the moment that I do said thing. 

It started with being late after school on Thursday. I had a meeting with the reading specialist, and then I stopped in to chat with my friend who teaches the 12:1:1 program (all but social studies, which is mine), and then I made it to the other reading specialist's room to chat, and really I was just wasting time bigtime. But, we never see each other and are always rushing from place to place, so it was nice to actually have a social interaction. (A masked, socially-distant interaction.)

At my first stop, the reading specialist brought up the Polar Plunge. That a small group of people from my school were doing it on Saturday to support Special Olympics, and it was a bucket list thing for her, and she thought I should give it a shot too. 

HELL NO was my response. 

Not 45 minutes later, I was 80% in. 

How did this happen? PEER PRESSURE. And also, the appeal of doing something batshit crazy for a good cause, and, as the reading specialist said, "if ever there was a time to fully LIVE, to go for the gusto, NOW IS IT!" The seed was planted. And it grew and grew until I could think, "Yeah, you know what? Why not plunge in single-digit windchills?" 

I have always looked at the Polar Plunge as an act of organized insanity. Usually, it is organized and on Lake Ontario, with a roped off area and "heats" of plungers and a full EMT staff and a warming tent. Well, not with the pandemic. 

With the pandemic, people were encouraged to SAFELY plunge in small groups, from what I was told. I didn't do any research because I didn't want to psych myself and decide not to do it. The organizer teacher came out of his classroom as we were talking about it, and he was like, "YOU can DO this! I do it every year! Nothing bad will happen! You're in and you're out, and I'm First Aid certified!" 

I asked about what happens if I have a heart attack. What happens if I trip and hurt myself. How likely was it I'd end up in the hospital, a place I DO NOT want to be right now. Or ever, actually. Everyone was like, "You're such a worrywart! None of that is going to happen!" 

Yeah. Well, I have made a habit of falling into the "unlikely, low percent" for all kinds of weird shit. I have had THREE Hold-In-Place drills in my honor. I have left school in a wheelchair and had Bryce called for all of those. I had all kinds of unlikely things happen during infertility. I didn't want to tempt fate, but I also didn't want to hold myself hostage to my fears. 

I committed. 

We were going to jump into Irondequoit Creek, which runs all through the county. They chose a park that the organizing teacher swore would be a good spot. I started gathering supplies: 

In this giant bag -- three towels (mostly in case someone forgot theirs, which turned out to be a good thing to plan for), a sweatshirt, my giant nose-to-toes fleece zip-up bathrobe (which was a GODSEND), extra cozy socks, a waterproof-backed fleece blanket, layers of long sleeve and short sleeve shirts, and leg warmers. 

I was going to wear tights instead of shorts, but then Bryce said, "You know, you probably want something you can take off real fast and not have clinging to you, you can dry your skin real quick but the tights may keep freezing water on your skin longer." So I ditched the tights. I wore my crabby socks, and put on my snow boots but brought my water sneakers for going in the water. 

I think you can tell from my facial expression that I am thinking this is a real stupid idea at this point, an hour from arrival. I did get a text from the retired school nurse who was there for all my unfortunate events, and she said she was coming with her kit so she could help if anyone needed it, which (not so) strangely made me feel better. 

I pulled into the park and saw the creek -- and the FIVE FOOT DROP to get down towards it. Oh hell no. The organizing teacher was walking around with a rope, sussing out the situation. ARE WE RAPPELLING DOWN TO THE CREEK? WHAT? NOOOO! I started hyperventilating. But no, the area where we parked was deemed private, but not safe enough for easy access. 

So we drove to the other parking area, for the dog park, where there was a more reasonable access point. Of course we had to tromp with all our supplies past the dog people, with my assistant principal dragging his mobile audio setup playing "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC, and so there was no secrecy to be had. My heart was racing, but I felt exhilarated. I WAS GOING TO DO THIS. 

We set up on the bank of the creek, and my principal started a countdown WAYYY earlier than we were shedding all our warm clothes (oh cozy fleece pants, you were so wonderful). We lined up for a picture once we were all plunge-ready: 

I'm the one not protected for anonymity. Second from the right. I think we are yelling "We are Martha Brown!" like total lunatics. Look at that stuff on the shore, like we're setting up at the freaking beach. And LOOK AT THE ICE! At least we could walk right in here. 

We turned around, and faced our fate. 

Clutching on to my special ed coworkers for DEAR LIFE. It's GO TIME. 

My face in this picture is, "WHAT THE EFF ARE YOU DOING, CRAZY PEOPLE? I AM NOT PLUNGING ALL THE WAY! NOOOOO WAYYYY!" I did squat down but was not about to have frozen underwear. Can I just say that it was 16 degrees (F) out with single digit windchill? 

We scrambled out, dried off, and got dressed again. The crazies who went all the way in needed to change all the way, so we made circles of towels and I used my giant bathrobe as a screen to protect their nakedness. Their freezing cold, damp nakedness. 

There was ice in the water that floated past in the current, and somehow I was the only one who left the water bleeding. Nothing major, just a few bumps and bruises and scratches from rogue ice (ice sharks? Ice leeches?), but I was thrilled that was my only injury. 

Not super impressive, but this was all swollen up and I have a few of them along my shins. 

After the dip, we met back at the other parking area and had a firepit, and I may have sipped a bit of Constant Comment tea with some bourbon in it. Hey, if St Bernards bring it (the bourbon) to you in the Swiss Alps, it's got to be worth SOMETHING! Also, that is a really good combo. Kind of like a badass little old lady teatime drink.

Here I am, in the parking lot, cold but toasty from adrenaline and bourbon and the knowledge that I DID SOMETHING SCARY AND IT DIDN'T KILL ME. I did not let the stupid voice in my head talk me out of it. I helped raise money to support Special Olympics so they can run safely this year. And I bonded with my coworkers in the craziest of ways. 

I'm actually not sure if I would have done this if not for the pandemic. I may do it again, who knows? All I know that is that it showed me that I am stronger than my fears. And maybe a little stupid crazy. 

Valentine Challenge

Yesterday was Valentine's Day (is that just a States or an Anglo-y thing?), not that you could miss it for the decorations and excessive social media posts. I made the poor choice of going to the grocery to pick up some things on the day itself, and it was a madhouse -- the flowers were all wiped out and there were chocolate strawberry stations and baked goods and king crab legs and lobster tails galore. There was also a cherry picker thingie with a guy taking down all the hanging heart decorations and another employee replacing Valentine chocolate with Easter chocolate. Poof! Holiday gone! 

But, Facebook was a stream of Valentine's day stuff, for DAYS before, largely due to the "Valentine Challenge" -- a hashtagged invitation to share your couple-y coupledom, from beginnings to traits to photos. It was EVERYWHERE. 

All I could think was, "for single humans, this must feel like the Mother's Day onslaught feels to me." Which was verified when a teacher friend posted, "never am I so aware of my single status as I am on Facebook on Valentine's Day. ☹️" 

I know that you can't ever make everyone happy, And I know that everyone will be excluded from something at some point, but these challenges make me cringe. They fill the feed with even more highlights of what some have and some do not. It can feel like a tidal wave of exclusion, which is how Mother's Day/Christmas/Back to School/Easter feel to me. 

So I didn't participate, and I didn't even post anything from our Valentine's mini celebration, which was super low key and involved handmade cards and wine and food and me falling asleep on the couch and then talking in my sleep and waking up while Bryce was trying to make sense of the nonsense I was saying and feeling super confused (apparently I do that a lot, which is a horrifying revelation). It felt kind of nice to keep our evening a bit more private, a bit less on display, a bit less in the face of people for whom Valentine's Day is an unpleasant reminder. 

Right before we put pajamas on

Always need a stupid face photo

Want to read more #Microblog Mondays? Go here and enjoy! 

What's Your Identity?

Some days, you feel super well-adjusted. And other days, everything seems to weigh so heavily that the tiny hairline cracks in your mended porcelain gape and split into shards. 

I am exhausted. The cumulative impact of pandemic stress and feelings of living in a neverending cycle combined with the joys of IEP writing, early meeting dates, and being the owner of the schedule as lead special education teacher this year, it all has me so tired and thin-skinned. Add on to that that yesterday afternoon my district announced that we are going back to in-person on Wednesdays (alternating cohorts, but now I will be in the building all 5 days), and they are pushing for a return to 5 days a week for every student school with 3 ft distancing, and I am just overwhelmed and frustrated. 

So when we had a faculty meeting that was small group facilitation around cultural competency, I was a little nervous about how that was going to go. Today's topic was identity -- what is your cultural identity, how do we see others' cultural identity, what is above the waterline and what is below (enter iceberg visual here), and 20 minutes before the meeting I realized there was a reflection activity we were supposed to do ahead of time. So I read it. 

 

Part I was to think about different categories of cultural identity and reflect on your own experiences:

LANGUAGE - what language do you speak, what language do you work in, language of family

MIGRATION - where is your home? where were you born? when did you come to the U.S. or to our county? If you're not from here, what made you relocate? What did it feel like to relocate? 

CULTURAL BACKGROUND - How do you describe yourself ethnically/identify yourself culturally/describe your cultural background? 

FAMILY'S ROLE - How do you define family? Who are family members? Where are your family members? How involved do you wish your family to be? Who raised you? Who parented you? Are you/did you parent your children? Who did if not? ETC ETC INSERT INCREASED HEART RATE HERE. 

SOCIAL NETWORKS - Who are your sources of support? Who do you rely on? Activities/hobbies you enjoy? Community connections/resources? Groups? 

RELIGIOUS/SPIRITUAL BELIEFS & PRACTICES - is religion important to you or your family? Do you feel comfortable sharing your beliefs? Is it important that your beliefs are represented in school culture?Are you connected to a spiritual leader? Have you experienced a school system, as a student or staff, that overtly or subconsciously reinforces certain religious beliefs or traditions at the exclusion of others? 

EXPERIENCES OF TRAUMA - has your cultural background had some effect on how people have treated you at school/relationships/social settings? Did you experience any form of intolerance at any time in your life? Have you experienced discrimination, prejudice, and/or marginalization due to any aspect of your identity? Have you experienced or witnessed any loss due to natural disasters or human-made disasters? What are your experiences of toxic stress, childhood adversity or acute trauma that impact your life? Have you experienced the loss of someone who was important to you? 

There's two more categories but that was the point where I got a little panicky. Was this just for us to think about, or would we need to share?

It was definitely interactive. At first pretty benign, but then the question became, "Did you find any of those questions difficult? Was it difficult to answer any of them?" And there was silence. 

So I volunteered to speak. 

I said that answering the questions wasn't difficult, it was thinking on the answers themselves. It was realizing how multi-faceted cultural identity can be. It was realizing that while I am decidedly dripping in white privilege, I also belong to some groups outside "the norm." 

The facilitator asked me to elaborate, so I chose "childless" as opposed to "atheist," because I work in a fairly religious community and that one can be tough to swallow for some. 

"I am not a parent, and I will not ever be a parent, and that can be very difficult working in a school environment. Everything is based off the presumption that you are also a parent, that 'as parents' or 'for our own kids' or a million other statements that assume that everyone in the room is a parent. And that being a parent is the holy grail, that it's the most important aspect of your identity. Which then takes people who don't have children and minimizes their contributions and/or worth, like I'll never understand or have the MOST IMPORTANT JOB EVER, which is the unfortunate inverse of those statements. And I'm not alone -- there are many people in our school who do not have children, either yet or who won't ever have children, but we are forgotten and invisible in the culture." 

Then the facilitator said, "It's interesting that you said, 'invisible,' like you feel that due to this aspect of your identity you aren't there?" 

"No," I said. "it's more that I'm there but not seen. It's actually quite painful." 

Then the facilitator skillfully noticed someone else nodding while I was talking, someone who interestingly HAS KIDS. He called on her and asked if she was agreeing through her body language. And this person, who I could have hugged, said, 

"Yes, I totally agree. The parent role is put up on a pedestal. I will never forget a time I was in a parent meeting and this parent said, 'You can't possibly understand, you're not a parent.' All I could think was, 'What if I never have children? Will I never be seen as good enough because I am not myself a parent?' It was painful." 

That was amazing, because I didn't realize that she had that experience. It was lovely to have that feeling reverberated by someone else, differently, who actually is a parent now but remembered how that felt. It was a demonstration of empathy I don't often get to see at school for non-parents. 

 

The last activity we did was to take four small pieces of paper and write four sections for the book, "The Story of My Life." I thought, I'M GOING TO NEED A LOT MORE PAPER, but I followed the rules. We were to pick four categories of our experiences/identity. After we picked, he said, "you need to eliminate one, sorry, shorter book." That choice was pretty easy. Then he said, "Yeah, more people are contributing so you need it to be down to two." 

That left me with LOVE and LOSS. Seems appropriate. 

But then, he said, "as your editor, I am going to choose the next one to eliminate. You only get one. Take away the one on your left." 

And so I was left with LOVE. Which really is the ultimate triumph in my life. It was somewhat of a nice feeling to have LOSS taken away (if only it was that easy!), and then I thought about all the LOVE I have. 

Bryce. My friends. My family. My students. My coworkers. My job. All of you. 

Loss is all through everything too, but I'm glad, even though it was completely random and not intentional, that love won out. 

 

The entire exercise was exhausting, emotionally. The end takeaway was that we often only see what's above the iceberg, and some of our students' and families' identities are taken out of sight and we don't get to see them, but they are there. The more that we can understand all the parts of everyone's identities, the better we can reach and teach them especially in times of trauma. 

I signed off after a collective deep breathing exercise, where my eyes filled up and I worried they'd spill over, and then I just sobbed at my desk (at home, at least for a few weeks more). I just felt exhausted. Wrung out. Emotionally spent. In a (mostly) good way. 

It was scary to share my thoughts, but worth it.

It's Not Too Late

I went to get new glasses a little while ago, and my eye doctor at Pearle Vision changed from an older man to a middle aged woman. 

At one point in the eye exam, she asked me if I had children. When I said no, she said, "me either."

Then she told me about how she had focused on her education, and then her career, and she never met the right person in time to have a family of her own, and she grew up without a father and so didn't want to raise a child alone. She clearly felt very comfortable sharing her life story while setting up my new prescription. 

She also said she didn't feel like she had a hole in her life, because she had nieces and nephews and she was an Auntie, and that was just fine: she loves her life, as is. 

How refreshing! 

Except then as I was leaving, she asked, "how old are you?" and I told her. The next statement blew my mind. "Well, it's not too late!" 

"I DON'T HAVE A UTERUS," I said, followed by "and I'm actually happy now, I love my life as is." 

This is the SECOND time I have had to throw out my missing reproductive organs to say that yes, it's "too late." How old do I have to be before people who know nothing about my boundlessly spectacular infertility stop saying how I could possibly still have a baby? 50? Older than Janet Jackson? 

And more importantly, what happened to bring resolved and "not having a hole in your life?" It felt like that message got diluted by the "but wait! You could maybe still get pregnant, because that's what you really want, right? That's the only ending people actually want, so it must be what you want, too, you sad childless lump." 

I AM HAPPY AS IS. It took a lot of work to get here. Bryce and I have built a new life, in a new house that was never meant for children. I am glad I have no uterus anymore. I am glad there's no ambiguity about my (in)ability to conceive. 

It seems weird that this happiness isn't believed though, that it sense the possibility of a late life surprise pregnancy is considered a prize, a winning lottery number. Weird and disappointing, especially from someone who professed to be a whole, happy childless person.  

Want to read more #Microblog Mondays? Go here and enjoy! 

#Microblog Monday: 800!

800. This is my 800th post. That is CRAZY. It's a lot of change, a lot of reflection, and a lot of connections with people. I missed International Blog Delurking Week, but if you have been reading me and you don't normally comment, I would love for you to just say a quick hi. 

Today is also my 12th Engage-o-Versary -- it was 12 years ago on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day when I made a nice dinner, set out a lovely pinot noir, lit some candles, and greeted Bryce with a letter I'd typed up that was actually a marriage proposal. I love that I proposed and he accepted, that we did it differently to make it our own. It's also crazy that this June we will have been together 15 years. 

He actually has MLK Day off for the first time, EVER, because his company has finally decided to make it an official holiday (finally!). We have spent it doing insanely romantic things like starting to de-Christmas our house, vacuuming, and catching up on work after a more relaxing weekend, but it sure was nice to sleep in a bit and have a more leisurely morning than usual on our special day. He's making cochinita pibil tacos, which will be amazing (slow-cooked, fall-apart citrus pork! poblano tortillas! habanero-carrot sauce! pickled red onions! avocado! yumminess all the way around). They already smell AMAZING.

I think this is the year I update my blog, or change it up to a new one. I hate change, but "My Path to Mommyhood" is just not authentic to my experience anymore. I have been officially off that path for over three years, and it's time to name it something different, or start something new. I don't want to disappear, though. Any thoughts on how that works? 

I'm looking forward to this week, while also dreading the threat of violence. I hope that we can have a peaceful transition of power and enjoy having an Executive Branch that is based in empathy, compassion, science, humanity. I hope that there can be healing from what's happened in the U.S. -- the fear, the hate, the intolerance, the destruction from within. Sigh. 

I hope that I can chalk up most of January to a 2020 hangover, and we can have a 2021 that goes in more hopeful direction. 

Want to read more #Microblog Mondays? Go here and enjoy!

The Power of Music

Music, for me, is an emotional touchstone. It can link straight to memories that bring feelings of joy, or grief, or an association. 

I will never hear Belinda Carlisle's "Heaven Is A Place On Earth" or "Circle in the Sand" without being transported to the house where I lived from age eight to 22, sitting on the couch with my dad while he watched the movie Cave Man (with Ringo Starr!) and I listened to my Belinda Carlisle tape on my Walkman. That was also when I realized that when I made my Barbie and Ken "do it," I was setting it up all wrong. Please tell me I'm not the only girl who just mashed Barbie and Ken together and called it sex. 

I am sad that I won't have much opportunity to serendipitously hear my wedding song with Bryce, "Rings," by Leo Kottke, because it's not exactly in the radio rotation. We can make it appear at home, but that's not really the same thing.

However, I do hear my first wedding song, try not to gag too much, "Don't Want to Miss A Thing" by Aerosmith (it was 2000! And yes, it was from the disaster movie Armageddon, the irony of which is not lost on me) from time to time. It used to make me physically nauseous, and now just leaves me feeling vaguely icky. It does not remind me of the wedding. It reminds me of the tenuous period after infidelity(ies) was discovered, and I was still living in our house but he was living on a friend's couch, and he would come get stuff and then be gone by the time I got back from work. I would go to the bedroom and see the dvd player going, and when I turned on the TV, Armageddon would be cued up on loop, ostensibly to remind me of all the good things and that I shouldn't leave but the result was more... growing unease and the gelling thought that this was my out, that I would not be staying. 

When I hear Ani DiFranco I think of my sister wearing hippie dresses, home from college for the holidays. When I hear Chopin piano pieces I think of my mom's senior recital, her fingers flying across the keyboard. When I hear Dolly Parton & Kenny Rogers' Christmas song, "With Bells On,"  I am back at my best friend's childhood home, dancing in wild circles around the big dining room table. When I hear the hymn "Be Thou My Vision" I remember playing violin for my grandmother, and then playing it with my mom accompanying on piano for her funeral service. 

Today, I had a visceral reaction to music that was played on Vermont Public Radio's "Sunday Cinema" with Lynne Warfel, which we listen to every Saturday morning at 11:00 while we eat breakfast shamefully late after sleeping in. I can't hear this music without crying. Literally I hear the strains and I see the images that go with it, and the feelings just leak out my eyes, down my face. 

It's the instrumental theme "Married Life" from Pixar's Up. I linked to it without the visuals, because it is goddamn traumatizing. Basically, it's Karl's backstory -- he's a grouchy, curmudgeonly old man, and this short vignette lets you know exactly why. It's the whole story of his marriage, including a devastating turn of events where they lose a pregnancy after decorating a nursery and you can infer that they are told children won't be possible, because Ellie, the wife, sinks into a depression where you can feel her numbness, and he gets her out of it and they follow other dreams, planning a trip to Venezuela that just keeps getting pushed due to life hiccups and expenses and then she gets sick AND DIES.  

So that's why he's a grumpy old guy.

JEEZUS, PIXAR. What a way to start a movie with a balloon-flying house and a talking dog with ADHD that's FOR KIDS. Way to dissolve the adults, particularly those with histories of loss. There's a reason why I watch that scene on YouTube when I am emotionally constipated and need a good cathartic cry. 

When I hear that music, I see the whole thing. And I am struck by similarities and fears. Replace Venezuela with puffins. I feel her excitement and joy when decorating the nursery.  I feel her pain and disbelief when she's sitting in the garden after their loss, all empty-eyed and hollow. And I fear someday leaving Bryce a widower, alone and curmudgeonly. 

So I cried. And then I explained it to Bryce, who was looking at me with concern while I cried during the song at breakfast, and then when he understood where it was coming from, he cried, too. 

But then the music changed and it wasn't the intense sadness trigger anymore. My face was a little puffy, but then the day moved on and that crushing memory of grief didn't follow either of us. 

I'm glad that music can make me feel so much, but I'm also glad it can touch those places in my emotional memory without breaking me for the rest of the day. What music moves you?

A Compliment That Made Me Cry (or, I Have No Dignity But A Lot Of Fun)

New Year's Eve was totally low key here. We don't normally do much of anything (other than drink wine and champagne and watch the ball drop and realize how old and out of touch we are when we can't recognize any of the entertainment), but this year was particularly nothing. We dressed up and had dinner, and then promptly pajama'd. We read and watched the ball drop, the sad sad ball in the most empty Times Square I've ever seen, which was good, because pandemic, but still weird. Bryce said they should have made the ball a coronavirus, which was a dark moment but I forgave him. He read his math book at midnight and I got my kiss and we finished our bubbly and went to bed. 

But BEFORE the ball-dropping, math-reading, midnight-smooching, and champagne-guzzling, I did something different. 

I had what can only be described as a "weird selfie war" with my best friend's 9 year old daughter. It started with me just sending weird selfies to my best friend, and then I received an eye up close that was definitely her daughter's. And then it got weirder and weirder from there. 

I will share with you my side of the selfie war. Everything I did, she returned in her own way, like a strange dance circle competition at a wedding or a prom. 

The highly unflattering and creepy selfie that started it all.

Followed by this one, which I dubbed "Pretty New Year's Princess." I got one with a Happy New Year bead necklace from the 9-year-old in return. Also my best friend said, "Insane Asylum Princess, maybe"

Had to follow up "Insane Asylum Princess comment with something real weird. Don't mind my pores and dark eye circles. She sent a similar nose-forward picture.

This was titled, "Like my nose ring?" I then got one with the Happy New Year bead necklace as a nose ring. :)

I was hiding in this one. It is not a bad picture all things considered, ha.

Sparkly eyeliner. Yup, got the same thing back with the Happy New Year bead necklace!

Tried for a silly scary one, and the hair-in-the-face I got back was truly terrifying and a bit too much like the girl from "The Ring."

I was not going for glamour at all, obviously. Moustache selfie, returned with a mustache and long 9-year-old hair beard.

Upping the ante, this was Bryce's idea. DOUBLE OCTOPUS. The one before this that I can't find had the orange octopus on my head and a orange 3-d printed thingamabob in my hand, I got a blanket on her head and an orange lego thing in response. Pretty clever!

Then I went feral. She followed up with one just like this, but from the stack of flattened cardboard boxes to be recycled. RAWR

Then she got fancy and sent me her doing a handstand, and was like "BEAT THAT!" So Bryce and I mocked up a handstand on the floor, because I'M FORTY-FOUR AND COULD NEVER DO A HANDSTAND. Pretty clever mockup, no?

She won. This is me laughing after she sent me a video of backflips, and I sent her a video of me basically rolling around on the floor and pretending to run while lying on the floor, and I couldn't stop laughing, and then she sent back her version of my floor-rolling, with a somersault-backflip grand finale. SHE WON.

It was insanely fun. I cannot believe I just shared that handstand photo, but I draw the line at the rolling around on the floor video. There was a lot of belly and Bryce made a farting sound to make it seem like I tooted when I rolled over, which was hilarious, but not necessary to put on the internets. (Is any of this necessary? Nope.)

The next day, I talked to my best friend, who was still talking to me after this display via text/video/video call, and I thanked her for also doing a video call with me a day earlier so I could see her and talk with her kids and husband (who is also my friend from college). 

And then she made me cry.

How? 

Well, a couple years ago we were named guardians in the unlikely event that she and her husband passed at the same time, which is an awesome responsibility and an amazing honor, one that you hope never actually comes to pass (and is a lot of trust, since there are three kids!). I have been dubbed "the crazy sort-of-aunt, right?" by her kids, and they call us Jessica and Rice. We send them Christmas presents from Jessica and Rice. Rice is all in on this. 

So when she said, "You know, we don't plan on dying at all, but it's nice to know that if we did, our kids would have people who really GOT them." 

Cue tears that I hid until I got off the phone. What an insane compliment. And yeah, I love her quirky kids. Obviously it's not at all the same as having our own, but it's wonderful to have kids we can be silly with and maybe, when this stupid pandemic is over, can do Camp Jessica and Rice and give my best friend and her husband some alone time while their kids go nuts at our house sometime. 

It felt good to know that even though I don't have kids, I really do "get" kids, even ones who aren't my students. I think this might go down as one of the best New Year's Eves, ever.

#Microblog Mondays: The Christmas Books

Every year for Christmas and my birthday, Bryce gifts me with books that he has hand-selected with the help of various lists, hoping that they are books I've never read and may not have heard about before. 

This year, my haul from Bryce was TEN books: 

I am so excited, it seems to be a really well-curated haul (they usually are, but these in particular seemed perfect for the times we're in!). I am also sad to say that there are books he's gifted me previously that I haven't read yet, so I am now reading The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemison because that was a pick a year or so ago that just hadn't made it to the top of my TBR pile yet. BUT, first I read three (although one is cheating) of the books gifted above during break: 

1) Notes On A Case of Melancholia or A Little Death - this is a wordless picture book but probably (definitely) not for the small children, about Death who is frustrated that he can't kill this therapist and then opens up about his disappointment in his progeny who apparently just wants everyone to smell flowers. Not giving anything away, it's delightful and very Edward-Gorey-like. This is the cheating one. Do you "read" a book with no words?

2) A Game of Fox and Squirrels - This is a young adult, really closer to middle grade, novel that mixes reality and fantasy, in a slightly less disturbing way than Pan's Labyrinth. The main character and her sister have been removed to a family resource foster care situation with her aunt following an incident that revealed her parents' abuse, and there's also a charming-not-charming fox and some (maybe?) helpful squirrels. It was good but also painful to read. 

3) Why not try to end 2020 with reading short stories by Brian Evenson, Song for the Unraveling of the World? I didn't quite make it, it was my first book finished in 2021 (not thinking about that too hard), and it was SPECTACULAR. Excellent science-fictiony-horror that sometimes defied classification. Really great collection. 

SO MUCH GOOD READING ahead. It's great to have something to look forward to! 

Want to read more #Microblog Mondays? Go here and enjoy!

#MicroblogMonday: Happy New Year, Lady Doctor

No one loves going to the gynecologist. I truly have a gynecologist and not an OB/GYN -- I was thrilled to find a doctor who does not see any pregnant patients, since one doctor I had towards the end of our fertility process had an office that was a shrine to motherhood (all the paintings and statues were of giant pregnant bellies and women nursing, which is actually a small percentage of a woman's lifelong experience at her OB/GYN), which was all a bit much for me to swallow. 

This was my annual exam, which apparently I haven't had since the hysterectomy. I appreciate that they do an internal ultrasound to check out my ovaries, since I am terrified that the remnants of my nonfunctioning reproductive system will try to kill me someday. 

Overall, it was a positive visit, full of good dark humor but no scary results. And a moment where I forgot how gowns work and tried to wear the paper lap "blanket" until I realized the gown was on the back of the chair thing and tried to unfold it. It wouldn't unfold. The damn thing was more of a paper bolero jacket. What the hell is the point of that? I guess it's why they give you the lap blanket, to try and cover the massive amounts not covered by the crop top boob flap vest. Ugh. 

Until next year, Lady Doctor! 

Want to read more Microblog Mondays? Go here and enjoy! 

2020 Goal Reflections

New Year's Eve is a particularly good time to look back on the year and reflect--what did we do? What were our goals? Did we meet them? Last New Year's, Bryce and I wrote down our goals for 2020 in my under-used bullet journal. 

I just reread them and HAHAHAHA'd and then put my head down on my desk, dejected. 

Then I remembered, "oh yeah, we made those goals PRE-PANDEMIC." 

I have to be kind and recall, the me who wrote those goals, many of which are not fulfilled, had NO IDEA that only three months into the year everything would become very, very stressful and "normal" would become relative. So forgiving myself all the things that were left undone or completely abandoned is reasonable. 

Even if they aren't on the list, I want to think on the things I did achieve this past year. That DESPITE a global pandemic and DESPITE a very not-normal world and DESPITE a lot of stress, fear, and anxiety...I did manage to get some shit done.

HOUSE
1) I expanded the front hill garden on the right side. 2019 me wanted to attack the giant bramble hill on the left, but 2020 me knew that was unrealistic. But I am pretty proud of how the hill garden grew. Hard to see it all, but there were so many pretty switchgrasses (Ruby Slippers, Shenandoah, Cheyenne Sky), mistflower, and ferns (including a painted fern called Godzilla, that will apparently grow to be nearly 3 feet tall, which sounds amazingly prehistoric and I might have to get a dinosaur garden sculpture for it).

2) I created a whole new garden space, my "birdbath garden," which is right out my office window. Turned out to be a key spot as I spent A LOT MORE TIME at my desk in front of that window this past year. There were annual Black and Blue salvias,  red lobelia,  verbena bonariensis,  liatris (well, one got to flower this year, the rabbits beheaded the rest), and a new butterfly bush. I saw so many butterflies, hummingbirds, and even a hummingbird moth.

 

3) ANOTHER new/expanded garden space! This is on the hill going up the side of the house from the driveway, and started with a boatload of daffodils I planted in the spring. It doesn't look super impressive since it's Year 1, but there's narrowleaf mountain mint,  helenium,  pink lobelia,  astilbes galore,  dwarf bleeding heart,  purple verbascum, and campanula. Then I put in some coreopsis since it did so well in my corner garden, but we'll see what comes back! Always nice to have new garden space.

 

 

4) We painted the house a lovely dark color and replaced the siding on the "weather side" of the house. We painted our front door a fun butternut squash orange that makes me happy every time I see it. Also, a small thing that made a huge difference was replacing the door in our bedroom to a tiny deck that turned out to be grandfathered and not particularly structurally sound (plus the source of a giant yellowjacket nest IN OUR WALL that you COULD HEAR, a favorite space of wasps, and an area with absolutely brutal sun in the summer) with a window and no deck. Sooooo much better. Can't find a "before" picture, but it was a door with a window and a broken seal, and it was half the glass size. 

 

 

 

 5) Bryce made that campsite area behind our house, and then we worked together to clear up the pond a bit and get it even more campy! 

 

WORK

1) So many of the things I had on my list were impacted by the pandemic. HOWEVER, I did become Special Ed Lead Teacher for my building, which was a goal of mine and came to pass. A bit of a trial by fire, being lead teacher for the first time in a pandemic with hybrid model school, but I guess if I can do it now, I can do it anytime! I have no desire, NONE, to ever be an administrator, but I do enjoy being a teacher leader. 

2) I did join the Diversity Council, and have done a lot of diversity and equity work in my building. Including being the point person for the apparently very controversial Black Lives Matter In Schools t-shirts and support days on the 19th of the month, which landed my district in the news and had some back and forth before the district-level administration wisely concluded that teachers wanting to participate in this county-wide conversation celebration were looking to support students and build awareness, and not looking to attack kids of police officers or teach kids that the police are racist or go marching down the hallways shouting "No Justice, No Peace." For the love of all that is holy, it was a hot mess but we worked through it and have lots of good work that we're doing. I got a fun catalog full of amazing Black History stuff (my favorite is a t-shirt that you can put your school's name on that says, "Black History Happens EVERY DAY: Learn, Live, and Celebrate the Legacy") and looked to see how come it came to me and it was addressed to "___ ____ Middle School Black History Program Director." Which is NOT my title but was pretty damn cool that someone saw the catalog and said, "yeah, that needs to go to Jess."

3) A teacher colleague and I started a Social Justice Club that is limping along (hard to get a new club going when kids are in school 2 days a week but we're trying!). 

4) I haven't yet had a nervous breakdown due to the stress of pandemic teaching. A small thing, but an important one. Sadly I think the "yet" is an important modifier, as cases rise and this new variant makes itself known I am getting more and more nervous. 

FITNESS

1) Note it doesn't say "weight loss." I'm going for strong, which is good because the pandemic stress goes straight to my belly. I was AWESOME at doing virtual Pilates classes 2-3x per week, every week, all the way through to the summer. The summer even saw me able to do outdoor classes at the new Mobile Studio, an open-air trailer. I love how strong Pilates makes me feel. I hate how once school started, it became VERY HARD to keep up with it. I was so tired. The showering when I get home kind of sucks away the motivation I have to do anything else after, because why shower after a long day of walking COVIDy halls if you can't immediately put soft, cozy pajamas on and try to relax a bit before doing more school work? However, since I was sucking at doing it, I did jump on an opportunity to do semi-private in person lessons at my teacher's in-home studio, which she cleans and sanitizes to hospital grade, keeps the windows open, has an insane air filtration system, and never has more than 2 established, known clients at a time, always at least 10 feet apart and masked. At first I was super nervous, but it felt SO GOOD to get back on a Reformer, and unlike the online classes, I felt too guilty to skip  because a) I didn't want to lose money, b) I didn't want to screw her over if she was being nice and wasn't going to dock me, c) sometimes I just don't sign up for the online classes because I know I'll be tired, which then becomes self-fulfilling. This has been a bit of a gateway drug of sorts to get me back into the swing of things, and now I'm doing classes more regularly(ish). 

2) We're walking a lot, but mostly on the weekends. Because of the whole shower situation. And break has been great for long walks. I actually did so much better with fitness when we were on lockdown and all virtual, because while that was stressful in different ways, I didn't have all the protocol maintenance to help us feel safe at home to contend with. 

3) SUPER UNDER THE WIRE since we did it today, but we bought an exercise bike. Apparently, you can get really nice magnetic upright bikes that fold up. We just need something for cardio when we can't walk. Or when we want to do something different. I am excited, because I did the bike at the gym (although preferred the elliptical, but those are BEASTS to have at home), and when we stopped going to the gym (you will NOT find me in a gym-gym during this pandemic, no way) I missed that cardio part. Also I read my kindle on the equipment, so that will give me a 2-for-1! 

WRITING

1) Well, I sucked sucked sucked ass on this one. I don't know why I am so scared to branch out, to put things out into the greater world. Still haven't done it. Did more research on places to submit and stuff like that, but ultimately I chickened out. And it felt like more of a fail because of the whole "oh, pandemic, SO MUCH TIME to do that thing you've always wanted to do!" but then I forgive myself because THERE WASN'T ACTUALLY THAT KIND OF PRODUCTIVE TIME. Being in an anxiety state all the time kind of makes it difficult to do new and exciting things. 

2) I did keep blogging, and I'm trying to be more consistent about it since I love this so much. I really, really try not to fall behind but it's been sooo hard with all the stress of school. 

3) I have written some pieces, some stuff, and I'm trying to get in the habit of priming that pump and writing every single damn day, apart from this space. I love it so much, and I don't understand why I keep choking on it. Sigh. 

VACATION

Obviously we didn't take any vacations or anything, didn't get to see family who live out of state, and have had minimal adventures. We did discover a ton of local trails, many walking distance. We had our campfire nights, and Bryce is cooking up a storm. But no Scotland, no Washington State, no Maine, no California, no Texas. A lot of Pinterest travel. A lot of fantasizing about having a tiny house somewhere off grid but yet with a flushing toilet (I really want to like the idea of composting toilets, but I just can't get over how like a litter box it is). Looking up places to hike all over the world once this is over. I did read 91 books this year, so that was like many mental vacations.

When all is said and done, it was a pretty good year despite everything else that happened around us. We are surviving, maybe even thriving (even though it is exhausting and sometimes my job feels like a form of Russian Roulette). We managed to have fun and do stuff that made us happy even as it felt like the world was burning. 

 

I think, though, that I am going to make some very, very low-key goals for 2021. Nothing too crazy. I can always try to overshoot. (But not that whole Shoot-for-the-moon-even-if-you-miss-you'll-land-among-the-stars bullshit. No, no you won't. You will fall back into the atmosphere and burn up. Womp-womp...)

Happy New Year's Eve, may you be able to (safely) celebrate the end of this year and hope for a better one ahead.

The New Tree

 Well, we did it. The artificial tree is up, and I have to say that I LOVE IT. It's not quite the same as a "real" one, but it has: no needles everywhere, no sticky sap giving me hives, no fear of cat death from tree water lapping, no wondering where to put it when it's done, no lingering guilt over sanctioned tree-murder... and for positives, it HAS A REMOTE for the lights, which sparkle like stars, it fits ALL our ornaments, it's bigger than any tree we could safely transport in our cars (7.5 feet tall!), and it can live in the attic. I thought I would be all grudgingly okay with a fake tree, but man, I feel all in on it, even though the branches feel somewhat like mascara wands. 

I thought I'd share some of my favorite ornaments. Sadly, we couldn't find my puffin ornament (it's SOMEWHERE, I just don't know where), and this is not exhaustive, but here's the ornaments and stories that go with them: 

Love this book-toting mouse. Saw it a year ago and toyed with giving it away but couldn't part with her!

This is the newest, a Danforth Pewter Snowflake Bentley 2020 ornament. Trying to make this a tradition. Also love the owl peeking from the back.

This is also new, from our administration at school and the Tech teacher, who churned out one of these FOR EVERY STAFF MEMBER. Nice, right?

A beautiful hand-painted owl

Another owl, with slightly evil eyes and apparently placed where it can remind me that the tree has joinery. Hmmph

This was part of a set from Target within the last couple years, the rest is a bluebird in a scarf and an owl, but this reminds me of BingBong from Inside Out. So fun and also terrifying.

Speaking of terrifying, this was a gift to Bryce last year -- his very own Cthulu blown glass ornament! Hilarious, a Lovecraft Ancient Evil One on our tree, watched over by the fox that goes with the owl up above.

Beautiful, woodsy new home ornament. And a violin!

Bryce loves a woody tree car, and we have them hidden around the house all season (pillows, pewter ornaments, etc). So old-fashioned.

This is special, it was from the family of a young man with autism who I taught for three years in a unique situation where we were 1:1, when he was 15-18. This was the last year.

Also special, flowers from my grandmother's funeral. I love that she always has a spot on the tree.

Ahhh, Cape May! Used to go there in summer with my best friend, her mom, and her aunt, until she started having kids and I started not-having-kids. Someday we'll go back!

These are super special: 

These are each part of sets that my best friend bought me in 2006, sort of new-start ornaments. I had lost a lot of ornaments when I left my first husband. There was a box when I went to pick up stuff but I didn't feel safe or comfortable going inside the house formerly known as mine, so I had to be fine with whatever was there and chalk the rest up to loss. Christmas 2005 was pretty much a disaster as my marriage imploded spectacularly with the revealing of horrid secrets right before Christmas, and my dad whisked me away to L.A. so I could be somewhere totally new. So my first Christmas, sort of on my own (I was already dating Bryce at this point, but just, and living in my parents' house they'd bought for retirement), I got to have sets of brand new ornaments. I cried my eyes out because it was such a meaningful, thoughtful gift. And they go on the tree every year! 

There's about a zillion more ornaments with stories, but seeing as how it's supposed to be Microblog Monday, I'll stop here (which is still over the rules, sigh). 

Happy holidays to you and yours!

Want to read more #Microblog Mondays? Go here and enjoy!

Creating Holiday Happiness

In a world where everything is filled with doom and gloom and terrible news and isolation and fear, I want to create some joy, dammit. 

I need to. 

I have been feeling really, really low lately. The cumulative impact of the pandemic is just weighing heavily. Teaching in person in a pandemic with soaring numbers and no testing and a film of rosy denial settled all over school is insanely stressful. I worry about getting sick. I worry about getting Bryce sick. I don't see anyone else, so I don't have to worry about that, but with the information out about possible long term cognitive impacts of the virus, I am TERRIFIED of getting it and also passing it to Bryce. He has a special brain. I like to think I do, too, but his mathy sciencey PhD-y brain is kind of our (gluten free) bread and butter. It makes me want to vomit and it makes me very upset to think that the job I absolutely love could change our lives forever in such a negative way. 

So, back to the idea of this post -- JOY, not further doom spiraling. 

I absolutely love decorating for Christmas. I love sending out cards, those photo cards that typically are covered in children. I love finding presents for people that I hope they absolutely love, and wrapping those presents in fancy ways. 

This year, we did a photo card again (we have one for every year since we were married, which is a fun little time capsule) but did not do a photo shoot. We did "photos of the pandemic" that we took ourselves because that's the kind of year this is. It wasn't funny or silly like previous years, although we could have done pictures of us in pajamas or business-up-top-and-cozy-bottoms. I firmly believe that my family of two can have these photo cards and illustrate that families come in different sizes. I get an insane amount of joy putting these together and sending them out, and then looking at each year (I have a box with now 12 years of cards).

 Here is the 2020 card:

 

I don't know why the text came out so insanely tiny on the back. But maybe it just makes it an extra challenge, like an eye test for the holidays. 

We don't have a tree yet. I am still mildly resentful about having to pick one up, by myself, at Home Depot last year. It had to be small so I could pick it up myself and shove it in the back of my Subaru, and neighbors who happened to be there helped me get it in too, but it was worth it to have an actual tree in the house. And, I guess, to save a somewhat scraggly last minute tree that ended up looking lovely in our living room, even from the deck outside: 

I didn't want to go get a sad tree by my lonesome this year. I wanted Bryce to have to get it, or go with me. But there was nowhere we felt comfy going, and so this weekend Bryce ordered our very first artificial pre-lit tree. It's 7 1/2 feet tall, which is the tallest tree we've ever had, and it is being delivered tomorrow. I have been assured that it's the environmentally-friendly option, that it will last year after year after year, but it still makes me sad that it's not real. Probably it will make me less sad when I'm not constantly watering it, sweeping up dead needles, freaking out that the cat may drink the tree water and die (not sure that's actually a thing), or worrying about fire hazards. And of course, not worrying about where in our yard to dump it when it's done. That always seems wasteful, although I like to think that putting it somewhere in the scrub brush area of our property it provides a habitat for...something. 

Otherwise, I've decorated up the inside, and even splurged on some new decorations for a spot I've been dying to decorate: 

Bryce has since put some fairy lights behind "Merry Christmas," which is lovely and cozy.

I guess I do have a little tree, but can't put any presents under it. 

Love our mantel decorations, including the card I received twice from the same friend that always has a place of honor in the middle.

The dining room side of the fireplace. Not sure if you can see that the little black owl statue on the right has a Santa hat on.

  

The world's tiniest reindeer pulls a ginormous sleigh, while I tempt fate with a zillion tiny fires.

And of course, our woodland critter countdown -- every day we pick a new critter from the bag. It's such a fun ritual!

The outside got a wreath courtesy of my mother-in-law: 

Lit at night(ish)

Iced in snow during the day.

I felt like we needed more. So I went out and decorated our skeletal bushes: 

And our pine tree out front:

 

And even our mailbox: 

I feel this overwhelming need, in a time where everything is so dismal, to spread joy and happiness everywhere I can. To make the magic of the holidays something special for a couple of 40-somethings without kids. Everyone deserves some magic!