To: Myself

Re: Changing anti-depressants

Please note that changing your anti-depressants and having your job reviewed at the same time is probably not a good strategy. Note this however: this too shall pass.

I have had some trouble when I try to embed a video in my posts. I actually know what’s behind the technical problem, but the only solution I have had so far is to make the post and then don’t edit it… if I edit it at all, the code gets messed up and then you can’t see the video. That’s why there’s a big blank white space on my recent post “CSA pickup day”. Here’s the video that is supposed to appear there…

In spite of the difficulties, I do love my job.

Nevertheless, on days like today, when it’s warm but not hot, and the ground is nice and moist from yesterday’s rain, I would normally have had the leisure time to do some gardening after picking the girls up from school. I would normally be able to be there for them, to get C to do her homework after school, and to get together some dinner for them at a reasonable hour.

This doesn’t happen too well if I am not home after school! I miss being able to cuddle and hang out with my kids in the afternoon. I miss having that extra time at home when I am not scheduled to be working.

It suddenly dawned on me this week that I have two jobs now. Well, three, if you count “Mom” as a job title. No wonder I am feeling kind of overwhelmed. I was struggling to get things done before I was working in the afternoons and early evening. Now I have even less time to do my freelance / business keeping — and it shows. The bookkeeping is in an atrocious state.

There are bills unpaid, late fees, work unbilled… It is not good.

I feel stretched and sad and I’m second guessing myself. Should I really take on this job as After School teacher? Is it worth it? Is my family’s loss of my time and energy in the afternoons and evenings worth the pay I get from teaching? Does my own personal satisfaction with the work make up for the fact that I miss my old life?

I think it does. It is just so hard to adjust. I keep reminding myself that summer is nearly here. Then I’ll have dropped to one fewer job and I will be able to garden and play and cuddle and cook. And work on my business bookkeeping.

I am presently crunching on a delightful salad, created with the delicious fresh stuff from my CSA. This week’s box of goodies included spinach, three kinds of lettuce, two bunches of gorgeous radishes, scallions, portabello mushrooms and a pint of strawberries. All of it harvested very recently, on 100% organic small farms, and then sent to my nearby pickup location by truck.

I arrived in the rain, my own box in hand, and picked out my share of this week’s harvest. Such beautiful fresh lettuce! Such sweet ripe strawberries! I am officially addicted to butterhead lettuce. I am so in love with the green goodness of it all. That sounds really funny, but it’s true. And the strawberries just really made my day.
But you don’t have to take my word for it:

EDIT: I want to clarify that the teacher I spoke to about as close to a supervisor as any one else at this school, where co-operative values indicate that the staff work together through a consensus and there is no principal. Also it was depression talking when I said “hate”. The teacher never used that word: she just said that the kids didn’t like me and felt like I came across as angry at them too easily and when they were not expecting it. She also said that I “replaced a teacher that they liked…” which implies, to me, that they *don’t* like me. She wasn’t sure if they disliked me personally, or if they just felt like they were suddenly stuck with a program where it was great for little kids but not for them.

I agree, with the gist of the comments: Shock! Middle schoolers who don’t like a new authority figure! The worst bit about this piece of feedback is how late it was in the coming. Now they’ve had it in their minds (and yes, there’s a lot of conforming to one another) that they don’t like me or After School. It is hard to change that, but I have to try.

At this school, these middle school kids apparently like all the OTHER teachers… just not the new one (me.) Who happens to be the mother of a “little kid” (second grader).

— end EDIT —

Here I am, the night before Mother’s Day.

My house is a mess.

I have two hours worth of cleaning at my daughter’s school that I have to do before the weekend is up.

My mom is coming to visit tomorrow morning, and sleeping over tomorrow night.

I have mother’s day presents for my mom, and mother-in-law: but the catch is I haven’t planted the flowers in the hanging pots I bought yet.

I just put my kids to bed about 10 minutes ago (yes, wow, that’s awfully late for them, isn’t it. Hmmm…)

I just started a brand new anti-depressant and I am on the lookout for brain zaps.

I met with a teacher that works at the school where I work just this morning to review how my job has been going. She was a kind of emissary from the rest of the staff who’d had a meeting and voiced their concerns and comments about my job performance so far. I found out that a) I’ve been showing up to work at the wrong time b) there are rules about the kids’ limits that nobody had bothered to tell me and c) it turns out that the fifth graders all hate me and hate going to after school. That was hard.

Of course, it’s not all bad with my job. The younger kids adore me (that’s the kindergarteners, the first graders, second graders, and third graders. The fourth graders are not quite sure. The seventh and eighth graders get along with me ok. It’s those damn middle school kids. The ones who pout and roll their eyes and won’t talk to me. They won’t tell me what they want to do but they also don’t like anything I suggest. The only thing they like is sitting together on the bench and chatting. I let them do that. They like that, but otherwise they hate me.

So: grades K-3: I’m great. 4: I’m not sure. 5-6: They hate me. 7-8: They like me. My feelings are a little hurt, but I am trying to rally myself to just keep trying. I’ll talk to the teachers of the kids who hate me and ask them for advice. Wonder what they do to not be hated by these pugnacious tweens with attytood.

As I go around cleaning here and there, thither and yon tonight, I have one thing on my mind. It’s the pouty face of the tween girl in my after school program most weeks. What can I do to get through to her?

Today I saw my doctor, who is a young-ish man who seems really smart and kind. I trust him, which is unusual for me.

I made the appointment this morning after running to the bathroom to pee repeatedly yesterday and again in the morning — ooh, that burning feeling. If you’ve never had a bladder infection, lucky you.

While at the doctor, I took the opportunity to review my anti-depressants with Dr. Niceguy. It has come to my attention that I am kind of hanging on by a thread lately. Tired, having trouble focusing, doing the minimum to get by, fretful, etc. The good doc has recommended a new medication, and I’m game to give it a try.

It is just so frustrating to feel like you’re stable and then realize that  you have slipped once again. To make matters more freaky, Dr. Niceguy mentioned in this overly casual way that I might have some “brain zaps” due to withdrawal from my current medication.

Uh. Brain zaps?

Apparently this is a “classic withdrawal symptom” from going off my medication. It’s like having little electrical jabs in your head.  Frankly, this freaks me out a little.

But Dr. N said that it wasn’t very likely, and that the new medication can be stepped up a little more quickly if the brain zaps get me, and it would clear right up.

I just hope that the medication works. On the plus side, he said this was a type of anti-depressant that might “make you feel like you’ve had a cup of coffee”. That sounds good!

1) obsess over small details for non-urgent projects. Example: you might want to rearrange the rocks in your bonsai fountain, or carefully shine your tea kettle.

2) note that your feet are chilly: solve problem by putting them under blanket. In bed.

3) stare dejectedly at large pile of clutter, rather than, say, going through it looking for lost library item.

4) make a careful list of things to do, place it on dresser. Pick up laptop, write blog post about procrastination.

I was thinking just now about how Carla is getting pretty co-operative about things she used to be downright impossible about. Like teeth brushing, for example.

C has had a rough time in this life as far as dental health goes. I blame it all on the fact that when she had her first trouble with cavities, we were broke and had lost our good dental insurance. Having no money, we turned to our new insurance for referrals within their network. We ended up with Dr. Nightmare and followed up with severe emotional trauma followed by months of therapy and now, years later, I think we are still feeling the pinch. The fillings that Dr. Nightmare so clumsily blasted into her three year old mouth are now cracking and needing replacement.  Still lacking good dental insurance, but now having learned our lesson about going to the in network option, we now pay, um, through the teeth. Our new dentist is an angel, and worth every penny– but that doesn’t stop Carla from thinking hard about her teeth and how they got that way.

She still sometimes mentions Dr. Nightmare, enough that his name has become a household name with enough villainy to it to put him in the same camp as George W. Bush.  Annie agrees heartily, even though she’s never even met the evil dentist (nor Dubya, for that matter.)

When it’s time to brush her teeth, and to floss them, she opens her mouth up willingly for me; she lets me at them. I do the best that I can.  But I am waiting for the thoughts to click into place…. At what point might she turn on me and ask how come I didn’t take better care of her teeth in the first place?

Which I ask myself, too. Though I DID start brushing her teeth daily once she even had teeth. I did what was recommended of me, even when she was a rebellious two year old.  She also nursed a lot, up until she was weaned at age two and a half.

Here I am, FIVE YEARS LATER, wondering HOW COULD I LET MY CHILD GET CAVITIES? And then further make the mistake of letting some A-Hole Dentist butcher her up. I STILL ACHE about this. I still doubt my abilities to protect her. To brush her teeth well enough.

And not just teeth, either. There’s the million and one things a mom’s supposed to do. What if I fail at another thing, and another? She’s on antibiotics this week as a preventative against the rare and unlikely complication of rheumatic fever as a result of an untreated strep infection.  We’ve missed some doses, and she knows this.

She stares hard at me and asks, shouldn’t she just take the missed dose together with her next one? I know that’s not how you’re supposed to deal with missed doses and I tell her so. The wheels in her mind are turning and turning, though.  I think she is disappointed in me– if taking medicine is important then how could I have missed giving her a dose?

Well, how could I?

Can someone toss me a rope down here, cuz I think I need something to grab onto. I wonder how I managed to mess up her teeth. What if she gets rheumatic fever. What if I don’t tell her about STD’s soon enough. What if I miss her prom. What if. What. if. What. What. What. If. If. If.

What if I to bed now and catch up on some sleep? Clearly, I am losing my mind.

Or, more likely, it was already gone. (see previous post).

PS… it turns out my first share of veggies will come next monday; and fruit in about three weeks or so. Will keep you posted.

I worked HARD today. Oh sure, you could glibly say that a mother’s work is never done, or that all moms are working moms, or that every day is one in which a mother works hard. And all that would be true.

The nice thing about the mom gig, in my opinion, is that often it doesn’t feel like work to me. I sure love my kids. I love hanging out with them, I love sharing food and conversation with them. They are lovely (if sometimes demanding) companions, and they have a great sense of humor, and (mostly, when they’re not too embarrassed) appreciate the bizarre alien that is their mother.

But I digress. I wanted to talk about how hard I worked today. Oh, but one more digression, lest I manage to alienate (I did say I was an alien, didn’t I?) any menfolk reading my blog. Dads work hard too, all that, etc. I know you do. Hang in there, you will make it through your day too. It’s hard. Life is hard. Parenting is hard. Working inside of, outside of, near or next to, home or not home, whatever you do… I validate you. Really I do. But hey, I digress. Like I said before. (Have I mentioned lately what an alien I can be sometimes?) FREAKISH POST HERE YIKES

…………

Where.

Was.

I?

—————- OH YEAH—————————-

Right. Bitching, er, sharing about how hard I worked today. OKAY THEN.

Today I ran a zoo childcare arrangement which a) required no pre-registration, b) was open to any of the 70 or so kids who go to the school where I teach, which I should mention c) includes children ages 5 to 14. Any of these kids is allowed to arrive any time between 8:30 AM and whenever they feel like it, and the program runs until 6 PM. I was on duty all this time, with no break, no adult assistance, and, it turned out, no more than 15 kids to look after at any given time.

The tricky bit was how the group kept changing. This being a day in which kids are meeting with their teachers (conferences) and therefore dropping in and then wandering off from the group. Meanwhile I’m there trying to make sure nobody hurts anybody, or cries, or pulls out a container of marbles and flings them all around the room, or calls someone a hurtful name and then gets kicked for it, or any number of annoying things. These are just examples from the FIRST HALF HOUR.

Ok, maybe I am exaggerating just a little bit.

But the fact remains that I was THE ONE PERSON IN CHARGE for nine and a half hours straight with no breaks and constantly supervising children who need this or that or the next thing. Pann, they clamored, I need you to thread my needle (I’d set up embroidery hoops for one activity), Pann, they yodeled, when’s snack? Pann, they gargled, So-and-So’s looking at me funny! No I’m not! Yes You ARE! Pann! Pann! Pann! Pann!

And NOT ONCE did I YELL! And certainly I never even once said “EVERYONE PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I AM THE VERY PORTRAIT OF SELF RESTRAINT!!!!!

And tomorrow, I get to do it all again.

Have I told you lately how much I LOOOVE teaching!? Oh, I really do. REALLY. I am not kidding or being sarcastic. But some days … are much harder than others. Tomorrow the art teacher has offered to step in for me so that I can get a quick breather at some point. So there’s that!

Looking forward to the weekend… forecast is for rain, rain, rain. Think maybe I’ll sleep in??

EDITED …

Oh yeah, I forgot… early in the day I DID get a brief break from teaching in order to attend my own child’s teacher conference. Just to be fair, thought I should disclaim…..

I just found out that my CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) has scheduled their first pick up date on May 5. This is so exciting! I have NO IDEA what they’ll be offering, but I figure it’ll be some of the early spring lettuces, perhaps spinach, as well. These are things that grow well early on. I

If you have no idea what a CSA is, here’s a description of the program that I’ve joined this year.  In a nutshell, it’s a pay-in-advance program that gives the farmers much-needed funds early on when they are planting, and in return for this, you get a monthly or semi-monthly allotment of fresh veggies (and fruits).  My CSA also offers fresh dairy and eggs to order.

Because we want to support local agriculture, and because we like to eat fresh, healthy, organic food, joining a CSA seemed like a good match for us.  I don’t yet know how this will affect my weekly cycle of food shopping, nor how it will affect our family’s menu.

I do know that in spite of my life under a rock (cozy down here!) I have heard tell of a number of food shortages across the globe.  A quick search on good using the terms “food shortage” will open your eyes quickly to the fact that shortages have been on the radar and the seem to be likely to continue. One story I heard concerned a plague of rats that attacked mass quantities of grain in India — other stories involve the US growing corn for ethanol instead of growing food. Climate change related weather problems have caused a shortage: and prices are soaring. Food pantries are at a thirty-year low.

And waiting for me at a designated pickup on May 5th will be my family’s first box of fresh produce that we’ve already paid for. I wasn’t expecting our CSA participation to have any effect on my personally, other than a good feeling to be helping local farmers– and a nice assortment of fresh produce on our table. In addition, though, I feel like we’ve managed to do something smart to help our own family through what could be a summer of highly expensive fruits and veggies.

In the height of summer harvest, I am planning (for the first time in my life) to start canning things. I have never done it before, but now seems like a good time to do it.  I have friends who’ve done this before who have said they’ll be delighted to help me do it.  With a food shortage on the horizon, it seems really smart to get local food, and save it. Doing it now when we want to, will be a big help for someday — when we may have to.