You know how you make those plans to walk 30 minutes a day, or some other exercise , or meditate? Well, that's what happened to my "write in my blog every day" plan. It didn't happen. That doesn't bother me too much. A lot did happen in the last two months. I won't write about that, because it has passed. I will write about what happened today. I went back to school.
This is not the first time I have tried to go back to college. My life as a student is like a comet, one that flashes through the sky every 13 years or so. Back when I was pregnant with my oldest daughter , in 1996, I went to San Francisco State and took some Early Childhood Education (ECE) classes. The idea was that I might want to have my own day care someday. Instead I had 3 children in 6 years, and became a stay-at-home mom.
Then in the fall of 2009 I went back to work at a preschool. I needed more ECE units so I enrolled in a Child Development class at Skyline Community College. I took that class on Saturdays. I have always enjoyed school, and made good grades, so it was fun for me. The people in my class were all ages, some men but mostly women, and not all of them were teachers since it was also a psychology class that could be taken for general education requirement. I liked being with other adults and sharing ideas. It was nice not to be somebody's mama for those few hours a week.
So, I decided to take two classes this semester. I am working on a preschool teachers certificate. I went to my first class tonight - Child, Family and Community. My only objection to the class is that we are in a basement room with no windows (and I am a little claustrophobic). Otherwise, it seems like the topics we are scheduled to discuss will be interesting and the instructor is very experienced. The focus is on school aged kids (5-12 year olds) which is a little different from what I was expecting, but might be of more use to me personally in dealing with my own children. I think it will be good.
Tomorrow night I will go to a class focusing on children with special needs. I am considering a specialty in that area, but I want to know more. This overview class should help me determine if that is the right direction for me.
You might wonder, with three kids in three different schools this year, and being a single mom, if I am a little crazy to add classes into my life right now. I was worried how the kids would take it. Surprisingly, they are very supportive and have encouraged me. I am home before dark, and can still help them with homework and tuck them into bed. I think they all understand that I have a specific goal, a career in mind, and that after being out of the work world for so many years I needed to update my skills in order to compete for jobs. I am providing for our family now, and I want to do the best I can in that role.
I am not the only one in the family who went back to school this week. My oldest daughter started high school Tuesday. She seems excited about it. She likes her classes and teachers. She has been able to find her way around campus and has already made a few friends. I am so proud of her! She shows amazing maturity and competence in organizing her time and materials. I think it will be a good year for her.
Her brother and sister don't start school for a few more weeks. They get to watch The Price is Right and eat cereal in their pajamas for a little while longer. I don't know what the cat is going to do when we all leave for the day and their is nobody's lap to sit in until evening. I guess she will adjust to the new schedule, just like the kids and I will.
So here's a salute to all the kids, teachers and adult students out there starting a new school year. May your pencils always be sharp!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Come On In, The Water's Fine!
I went swimming with the kids today. It is not unusual for me to take my kids to the pool, but I'm usually sitting in a lounge chair reading a book. That's what makes this a special day. It was the first day this summer that I put on a swimsuit and actually got in the water.
The kids went in right away, jumping off the diving board and swimming around each other like otters. Then they played ball for awhile. When the lifeguard blew the whistle for "adult swim" at the top of the hour, they came over to my chair and grabbed towels to wrap around their trembling shoulders. When the whistle blew again for "all swim" the three of them pleaded with me to get in the pool. "The water is warm", they assured me. "You don't have to get your hair wet". Okay.
There's always the dilemma of how to enter the pool. The kids' method, the diving board, is out of the question. I never learned how to bounce off the board and make a pretty dive, and a cannonball in my mama swimsuit would be too ridiculous. Walking in at the wide stairs in the shallow end is for moms with little ones who still wear water wings. I decided to climb down the ladder into the 4.5 foot end, where the kids were playing.
They were right, the water was warm. Until it hit my chest. There is something about getting "all the way" into the water that makes me shiver, no matter what the temperature. I must have grimaced, because I heard the encouraging "You can do it, Mom!" shouted from across the pool, as if I was going to turn around and climb out. There, I was in. Then they all three swam toward me like sharks in a feeding frenzy. " Watch my somersault!" "Let me swim under your legs." "Count how long it takes me to swim across and back." They were very excited.
It's not that I don't like water. I like it very much, actually. I love to watch the ocean waves crash on the beach, watch birds and boats on Lake Tahoe, listen to Colorado mountain rivers. I have even enjoyed kayaking in the water around Lopez Island, Washington. I just don't like my body to be in the water.
On vacation in Hawaii, I couldn't snorkel because I got so anxious about breathing with that mask and the tube. I know the fish and turtles are awesome to see and swim next to, it was something I just couldn't do. But a warm suburban swimming pool should be no problem. Especially if I don't have to put my face in the water. Especially if it makes my children happy.
So I let them swim under my legs as a bridge. I judged handstand contests and watched dives. I smiled when they splashed my sunglasses (yes, I wear them in the pool. They are prescription and my eyes are sensitive..) With only my head and shoulders out of the water, my not-ready-for-swimsuit-body was hidden from view. I was almost relaxed.
I considered training to be a lifeguard this summer. Seriously. I thought it would be a job that would let me be where my kids want to be all summer. Watching the kids and keeping them safe is my main job, so it seemed logical that I would be good at it. I know CPR. But I talked myself out of it because of the requirement to swim 300 yards (that's 3 football fields). I didn't think I could do it.
Now I wish I would have at least trained for the swim and tried to complete the lifeguard course. It would have been a great way to prove to myself that just because I feel uncomfortable doing something doesn't mean I can't do it. Maybe I will swim a few laps next time. Maybe I will trade my shades for goggles. Maybe I will be the one calling out to the kids, "Come on in, the water's fine!"
The kids went in right away, jumping off the diving board and swimming around each other like otters. Then they played ball for awhile. When the lifeguard blew the whistle for "adult swim" at the top of the hour, they came over to my chair and grabbed towels to wrap around their trembling shoulders. When the whistle blew again for "all swim" the three of them pleaded with me to get in the pool. "The water is warm", they assured me. "You don't have to get your hair wet". Okay.
There's always the dilemma of how to enter the pool. The kids' method, the diving board, is out of the question. I never learned how to bounce off the board and make a pretty dive, and a cannonball in my mama swimsuit would be too ridiculous. Walking in at the wide stairs in the shallow end is for moms with little ones who still wear water wings. I decided to climb down the ladder into the 4.5 foot end, where the kids were playing.
They were right, the water was warm. Until it hit my chest. There is something about getting "all the way" into the water that makes me shiver, no matter what the temperature. I must have grimaced, because I heard the encouraging "You can do it, Mom!" shouted from across the pool, as if I was going to turn around and climb out. There, I was in. Then they all three swam toward me like sharks in a feeding frenzy. " Watch my somersault!" "Let me swim under your legs." "Count how long it takes me to swim across and back." They were very excited.
It's not that I don't like water. I like it very much, actually. I love to watch the ocean waves crash on the beach, watch birds and boats on Lake Tahoe, listen to Colorado mountain rivers. I have even enjoyed kayaking in the water around Lopez Island, Washington. I just don't like my body to be in the water.
On vacation in Hawaii, I couldn't snorkel because I got so anxious about breathing with that mask and the tube. I know the fish and turtles are awesome to see and swim next to, it was something I just couldn't do. But a warm suburban swimming pool should be no problem. Especially if I don't have to put my face in the water. Especially if it makes my children happy.
So I let them swim under my legs as a bridge. I judged handstand contests and watched dives. I smiled when they splashed my sunglasses (yes, I wear them in the pool. They are prescription and my eyes are sensitive..) With only my head and shoulders out of the water, my not-ready-for-swimsuit-body was hidden from view. I was almost relaxed.
I considered training to be a lifeguard this summer. Seriously. I thought it would be a job that would let me be where my kids want to be all summer. Watching the kids and keeping them safe is my main job, so it seemed logical that I would be good at it. I know CPR. But I talked myself out of it because of the requirement to swim 300 yards (that's 3 football fields). I didn't think I could do it.
Now I wish I would have at least trained for the swim and tried to complete the lifeguard course. It would have been a great way to prove to myself that just because I feel uncomfortable doing something doesn't mean I can't do it. Maybe I will swim a few laps next time. Maybe I will trade my shades for goggles. Maybe I will be the one calling out to the kids, "Come on in, the water's fine!"
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Family in Concert
This kids and I went to see a U2 concert at the Oakland Coliseum last night. You might wonder why I would take my kids to such an event. It wasn't really the plan when I purchased the tickets almost two years ago (Bono injured his back and they had to reschedule the tour). Life has changed a lot in that time. Still, I am glad I got to share the experience with my children, and I think it will be a great memory for them.
The evening started out with a long , rush-hour drive to Oakland. Traffic was bad, and the longer we had to be in the car the more we were all getting on each other's nerves. Finally, about 2 miles from the Coliseum exit I yelled "ENOUGH!" in response to the alternating teasing and whining happening in the back seat. I ordered silence until I parked the car in the lot ($40.00 to park, and yes we could have taken BART, but that would have required a change of trains in San Francisco and who wants to take BART at midnight, when the concert was expected to be over?). Once we got out of the car, moods improved considerably.
There was so much to look at. From the people filling the stadium to the cameras, cables and lights. Then there was "The Claw" -- a space ship looking crab shaped structure built over the stage. In the daylight, it was a little hard to imagine how it would look during the show. It reminded me of flying into LAX.
There were two opening acts. First a local band called MoonAlice (grey-haired, Deadhead style group with good musical ability but lacking strong lead vocals.) They made nice background music for the time when people were milling around and finding their seats, or filling in the field. Then Lenny Kravitz came out, with a really great trumpet player who made his more familiar hits seem fresh. He was able to engage the crowd and was fun to watch.
It took 30 minutes to set up for "the boys" (my nickname for my favorite band, from when I first liked them in high school in the early '80s). The kids were busy eating pizza and french fries and making "the wave" with the crowd. I was getting impatient. The last time I saw them was ten years ago. Would they live up to my expectations?
Finally the stadium lights went dark, "the Claw" was lit with bright blue lights and the show began. It was so exciting we stood for the first 45 minutes, singing along and dancing. At first the kids seemed embarrassed at how I was bopping around, but I guess they looked around us at the other 40-something fans and figured it was ok. After all, none of their friends would see me.
One unexpected highlight was the introduction of the song , "Beautiful Day" by Captain Mark Kelly, the astronaut whose wife, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona is still recovering from a nearly-fatal shooting. It was filmed as he traveled in the last Space Shuttle flight, and his floating around on the big screen over the stage, with the words floating too, was pretty cool.
As is usual for U2 there were plenty of socially conscious messages like promotion of Amnesty International with a display of lanterns. There was even a message from Burmese opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi, who was recently freed from house arrest after almost 20 years and who Bono wrote the song "Walk On" for. This all made me feel like I was exposing the kids to something more important and global than just a rock concert.
But I was still there to hear Bono sing, watch him handle the microphone and swagger for the crowd. Yes, it was exciting to be there, to be part of all that energy and noise. I felt more "present" than I ever have at a concert (maybe the fact that I was not drinking beer like most of the fans around us or that I was there with the kids instead of my spouse). Whatever it was, I think it was a most memorable concert and I hope it will be for the kids too.
We left during the encore, just to get out of the parking lot before the crowd. Heads nodded on the way home. I listened to KFOG radio for the drive, as they played U2 songs in honor of the concert. My feet hurt and I was tired, but it was a good tired.
The evening started out with a long , rush-hour drive to Oakland. Traffic was bad, and the longer we had to be in the car the more we were all getting on each other's nerves. Finally, about 2 miles from the Coliseum exit I yelled "ENOUGH!" in response to the alternating teasing and whining happening in the back seat. I ordered silence until I parked the car in the lot ($40.00 to park, and yes we could have taken BART, but that would have required a change of trains in San Francisco and who wants to take BART at midnight, when the concert was expected to be over?). Once we got out of the car, moods improved considerably.
There was so much to look at. From the people filling the stadium to the cameras, cables and lights. Then there was "The Claw" -- a space ship looking crab shaped structure built over the stage. In the daylight, it was a little hard to imagine how it would look during the show. It reminded me of flying into LAX.
There were two opening acts. First a local band called MoonAlice (grey-haired, Deadhead style group with good musical ability but lacking strong lead vocals.) They made nice background music for the time when people were milling around and finding their seats, or filling in the field. Then Lenny Kravitz came out, with a really great trumpet player who made his more familiar hits seem fresh. He was able to engage the crowd and was fun to watch.
It took 30 minutes to set up for "the boys" (my nickname for my favorite band, from when I first liked them in high school in the early '80s). The kids were busy eating pizza and french fries and making "the wave" with the crowd. I was getting impatient. The last time I saw them was ten years ago. Would they live up to my expectations?
Finally the stadium lights went dark, "the Claw" was lit with bright blue lights and the show began. It was so exciting we stood for the first 45 minutes, singing along and dancing. At first the kids seemed embarrassed at how I was bopping around, but I guess they looked around us at the other 40-something fans and figured it was ok. After all, none of their friends would see me.
One unexpected highlight was the introduction of the song , "Beautiful Day" by Captain Mark Kelly, the astronaut whose wife, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona is still recovering from a nearly-fatal shooting. It was filmed as he traveled in the last Space Shuttle flight, and his floating around on the big screen over the stage, with the words floating too, was pretty cool.
As is usual for U2 there were plenty of socially conscious messages like promotion of Amnesty International with a display of lanterns. There was even a message from Burmese opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi, who was recently freed from house arrest after almost 20 years and who Bono wrote the song "Walk On" for. This all made me feel like I was exposing the kids to something more important and global than just a rock concert.
But I was still there to hear Bono sing, watch him handle the microphone and swagger for the crowd. Yes, it was exciting to be there, to be part of all that energy and noise. I felt more "present" than I ever have at a concert (maybe the fact that I was not drinking beer like most of the fans around us or that I was there with the kids instead of my spouse). Whatever it was, I think it was a most memorable concert and I hope it will be for the kids too.
We left during the encore, just to get out of the parking lot before the crowd. Heads nodded on the way home. I listened to KFOG radio for the drive, as they played U2 songs in honor of the concert. My feet hurt and I was tired, but it was a good tired.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Finding My Voice
This week I had the worst sore throat I can ever remember having. I could not swallow anything without pain. I could not eat. The only beverages I forced myself to take a few sips of were hot tea and broth. On Memorial Day, last Monday, I called the Dr. and begged for some medication. She called in an antibiotic Rx for what we assume was strep throat. By Wednesday I was feeling better. By Thursday I was back to work. Routine was returning. So were bad habits.
Once the pain was gone, I no longer had to limit myself to tea and broth. I was hungry. On Thursday I ate a double cheeseburger for lunch, with a Coke. I ate in my car before going into my afternoon job. I felt lousy all afternoon, sluggish and queasy. I was still hungry. It was a poor choice.
The same was true with what I said that afternoon. After work I had to attend a graduation ceremony for my 8th grader. I was dreading the event because I knew I had to be there with people I don't like, sitting in a crowded auditorium for two hours. My stomach hurt. I was sleepy. But there I was, making small talk before and after the ceremony with other parents. I slipped into a familiar conversation routine - a blend of "can you believe how our kids have grown?" mixed with " it's a shame what is happening with school funding" and "we'll have to get the kids together over the summer." It was forced, shallow and fake. It was not me at all.
Being sick made me mindful of every breath. Of every time I swallowed and everything I ate and drank. Although I don't like pain, it does force you to be aware. Once the pain was gone, so was the thought of what I was doing. I was allowing myself to speak just to be part of the crowd, say the things I was expected to say (and which often meant nothing), and mindlessly eat whatever was convenient. I became lazy. I can see that now.
So, my point is that I need to remember to be more mindful. Listen more than I speak, and speak only when I have something to say. I should think about what I put in my mouth, and what words I let out. It is not enough to be alive and well. I need to live well and make a difference.
Once the pain was gone, I no longer had to limit myself to tea and broth. I was hungry. On Thursday I ate a double cheeseburger for lunch, with a Coke. I ate in my car before going into my afternoon job. I felt lousy all afternoon, sluggish and queasy. I was still hungry. It was a poor choice.
The same was true with what I said that afternoon. After work I had to attend a graduation ceremony for my 8th grader. I was dreading the event because I knew I had to be there with people I don't like, sitting in a crowded auditorium for two hours. My stomach hurt. I was sleepy. But there I was, making small talk before and after the ceremony with other parents. I slipped into a familiar conversation routine - a blend of "can you believe how our kids have grown?" mixed with " it's a shame what is happening with school funding" and "we'll have to get the kids together over the summer." It was forced, shallow and fake. It was not me at all.
Being sick made me mindful of every breath. Of every time I swallowed and everything I ate and drank. Although I don't like pain, it does force you to be aware. Once the pain was gone, so was the thought of what I was doing. I was allowing myself to speak just to be part of the crowd, say the things I was expected to say (and which often meant nothing), and mindlessly eat whatever was convenient. I became lazy. I can see that now.
So, my point is that I need to remember to be more mindful. Listen more than I speak, and speak only when I have something to say. I should think about what I put in my mouth, and what words I let out. It is not enough to be alive and well. I need to live well and make a difference.
Friday, June 3, 2011
My Crazy Busy Day
You know some days are going to be long. The kind of days you really don't want to get out of bed and face. There they are, at 6:30am, demanding to be dealt with, and there you are looking at yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth wishing you had a clone you could send out into the world in your place.
But I do not have a clone, a substitute or even a reasonable facsimile. Just me, the kids and about 57 things to do before I could crawl into bed tonight. Obligations, greetings, ceremonies, tickets, games, outfits, schedules, requirements, permission slips, box tops, receipts, shoes, change of outfits, flashlight, water bottles, sticky notes, jackets, sunglasses, phone calls, fast food dinner, pick-ups and drops-offs...until now. Now I have a few minutes before midnight to get my writing in for June 2nd.
8th grade promotion and dance, 5th grade yearbook day, play-day for elementary school, and the last baseball game of the season. All I had to do was get everybody where they needed to go, dressed in the right outfit, remembering the tickets, making sure everybody ate something besides licorice from the snack bar, and generally keeping peace and order. I did have to call in some reinforcements to help since the baseball game began half-way through the promotion ceremony, but I think it all went well.
I was going to find some baseball metaphor for the day, or something profound to say about moving on from middle school to high school, but it is late. I am tired. Maybe it is enough to acknowledge a lot happened today and those kinds of days happen sometimes. Did I fully appreciate the significance of the events? No, not as they happened. Will my children have good memories? I hope so, I think they will. Did I do everything I needed to do, plus a little? Yes, I think I did. I kept my sense of humor. I tolerated people and situations that were a little uncomfortable. I kissed everyone goodnight. I am going to turn off the computer , turn off the light, say a little prayer and go to sleep.
But I do not have a clone, a substitute or even a reasonable facsimile. Just me, the kids and about 57 things to do before I could crawl into bed tonight. Obligations, greetings, ceremonies, tickets, games, outfits, schedules, requirements, permission slips, box tops, receipts, shoes, change of outfits, flashlight, water bottles, sticky notes, jackets, sunglasses, phone calls, fast food dinner, pick-ups and drops-offs...until now. Now I have a few minutes before midnight to get my writing in for June 2nd.
8th grade promotion and dance, 5th grade yearbook day, play-day for elementary school, and the last baseball game of the season. All I had to do was get everybody where they needed to go, dressed in the right outfit, remembering the tickets, making sure everybody ate something besides licorice from the snack bar, and generally keeping peace and order. I did have to call in some reinforcements to help since the baseball game began half-way through the promotion ceremony, but I think it all went well.
I was going to find some baseball metaphor for the day, or something profound to say about moving on from middle school to high school, but it is late. I am tired. Maybe it is enough to acknowledge a lot happened today and those kinds of days happen sometimes. Did I fully appreciate the significance of the events? No, not as they happened. Will my children have good memories? I hope so, I think they will. Did I do everything I needed to do, plus a little? Yes, I think I did. I kept my sense of humor. I tolerated people and situations that were a little uncomfortable. I kissed everyone goodnight. I am going to turn off the computer , turn off the light, say a little prayer and go to sleep.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Stormy Start for Summer
I am in bed today, getting over a sore throat. While my body is down, my mind is wide awake. So, I am taking time to start the blog I said I was going to start this summer. This will be a place to unload my mind and hopefully communicate with other people who feel isolated in the midst of their busy lives. I didn't appreciate getting sick earlier this week, but now I see it did serve a purpose.
This month I can celebrate a few things. First, the end of the school year for my three children. The youngest will still be in elementary school next year, but my dear middle one is going on to junior high, and the oldest will start high school in the fall. They are excited about these milestones. They have promotion ceremonies, dances, t-shirts and yearbooks to commemorate it all. I know this time will be a special memory for them, and that makes me happy.
The second thing to celebrate is having made it through these past five months as a single parent. I am allowing myself a pat on the back for getting us out of a terrible living situation and being able to provide a safe environment for the kids and me. It took the help of many friends to make our move possible.
Not only moving our things out of the house to a much smaller apartment, but also the generosity of gifts of furniture, a television and microwave, lamps, shoes and clothing for the kids, gift cards for groceries and gas, and so much more. Then there are the countless ways the kids and I received emotional support and encouragement through it all.
The third thing to celebrate are the friends who became a much needed extended family to help keep the kids on track with school, sports and activities. Not only did the kids complete the school year, but they all had excellent grades, received awards and are very happy. Although we have faced many challenges, we have been able to make it through the worst part of the storm and come out stronger together.
The recent Tornadoes in the Midwest, where I lived most of my childhood, brought everything into perspective. Yes, terrible things happen. Often these things happen without warning or reason. You have the responsibility to protect yourself and the ones you love by getting to a safe place if you can. If you can't avoid the tragedy, you must help each other pick up the pieces and move on.
We cannot let a stormy forecast keep us from living the lives we were meant to live. If the weatherman says it's gonna rain, wear your raincoat and be ready to get wet, but go out and play anyway.
That's what matters to this mama. What do you think?
This month I can celebrate a few things. First, the end of the school year for my three children. The youngest will still be in elementary school next year, but my dear middle one is going on to junior high, and the oldest will start high school in the fall. They are excited about these milestones. They have promotion ceremonies, dances, t-shirts and yearbooks to commemorate it all. I know this time will be a special memory for them, and that makes me happy.
The second thing to celebrate is having made it through these past five months as a single parent. I am allowing myself a pat on the back for getting us out of a terrible living situation and being able to provide a safe environment for the kids and me. It took the help of many friends to make our move possible.
Not only moving our things out of the house to a much smaller apartment, but also the generosity of gifts of furniture, a television and microwave, lamps, shoes and clothing for the kids, gift cards for groceries and gas, and so much more. Then there are the countless ways the kids and I received emotional support and encouragement through it all.
The third thing to celebrate are the friends who became a much needed extended family to help keep the kids on track with school, sports and activities. Not only did the kids complete the school year, but they all had excellent grades, received awards and are very happy. Although we have faced many challenges, we have been able to make it through the worst part of the storm and come out stronger together.
The recent Tornadoes in the Midwest, where I lived most of my childhood, brought everything into perspective. Yes, terrible things happen. Often these things happen without warning or reason. You have the responsibility to protect yourself and the ones you love by getting to a safe place if you can. If you can't avoid the tragedy, you must help each other pick up the pieces and move on.
We cannot let a stormy forecast keep us from living the lives we were meant to live. If the weatherman says it's gonna rain, wear your raincoat and be ready to get wet, but go out and play anyway.
That's what matters to this mama. What do you think?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)