New blogs

Baby Jack has a new blog:
Come and visit the Bug Barn: A blog exclusively for and about Jack and Jack's mom.

Also visit Ginger's new space: De-Composition.

With my apologies for any and all setting changes..

Baby Jack!

Baby Jack is here!!!! and is completely adorable if I do say so myself. 7 lbs; 7ounces; at 7:00 am on his due date.. (miracle!) Mom and Baby are fine. Rich on the other hand.. :)
Stay tuned for pictures and information on new blog sites!

Am thinking about ditching the Viaggio for newer, better journeys.
This place seems a bit stale, no matter how I change the font and colors and pictures. Plus, there is so much change around me, and, as odd as it may sound, because the change is affecting mostly everything in my life, I think I want to embrace it as much as I can, blog notwithstanding.

A new place to hang out might be just the thing I need to scratch that 5 year itch.. And I am happy thinking about the limitless possibilities!!

I'll definitely keep my Flickr account so that you can see the baby, if he ever gets here, that is. In the mean time, I'll be over here dreaming.. :)

Conversation

Three very pregnant women stand in a circle in a public place, bellies almost touching. Whispering.

Preggo 1 (to others): When are you due?

Preggo 2: In a month.

Preggo 3: A month after her.

P1: Oh really? I'm due on Wednesday. (Internal grin, obviously trying not to show it outwardly.)

P2 and P3: Oh Wow. You're lucky. (Maniacally glancing back and forth) You don't even look like he's dropped, yet.

P1: Yeah. Doc says he may not, until the last minute, anyway.

P2: Well, I want this baby born already.

P1: And how. (fidgeting)

P3: You know, I heard that there are (ahem) ways to make that happen more quickly.

P2: Yeah. Like walking the mall or doing tribal Indian dances.. Squats.

P1: I heard spicy Mexican food is also a trigger.

P2: And (glancing around nervously) (barely audible) sex.

P3: Oh hell no. Get that the hell away from me.

P2: Yeah. That's not cool.

P1: (sweating, trying not to sound inauthentic) Yeah. Uh. What you said..(overcompensating) We hate men.. and their...that.. um.. act.

(awkward silence)

P2 and P3 (in mumbled, jumbled voices): OK. Better go.. things to do.. baby stuff.. diapers.

Preggo 2 and 3 scatter in opposite directions.

Preggo 1 stands stoic - a little proud, a little smug, wondering if after lunch at Abuelos if she should tribally ask the gods for rain, etc..

Shake and Take - and I Heyulpt!

I got pinned yesterday AND I was recognized for ten years of excellent service. ya-yuh!

(wink)

Ok. So, what it really means is I've been officially teaching in my school district for 10 years. I am a 10 year veteran. I have been out of college, contributing to my retirement plan, paying taxes, and functioning as a productive, responsible member in grown-up society for 10...freaking...pantyhose wearing...paying-a-mortgage... years.

10. !

But 10 minutes after they presented me with my 10 year award (shake and take, then smile for the camera), I was participating in a little jackholery and lost my pin.. Literally. It's gone. I can't find it. Buh-bye.

And I'm sort of relieved about that.

Still irresponsible. Still a kid.

Updates

Life is changing very quickly lately, and I've been coping by ignoring that it's happening. Healthy, right?

Anyway, maybe if I catch a few of the curve balls hurled at me and lob them in your direction (sorry if I throw like a girl), I'll be able to dig my way out of the dug out.**

Here goes:
1. The new principal for my school (i.e. my new boss) will be announced tonight at the school board meeting. I will not be attending in person so I made a cardboard cutout of my face and taped it to a ruler (a convenient handle) for Fougs to hold up at the meeting. That way I can be there in spirit and support the person who has been appointed (unless God truly does hate me and the position is given to someone else). You think I'm kidding - about the cardboard Ginger head. I'm most certainly not. (I'll be pissed if you forget me at school, Fougs. I must be there in spirit! And a cardboard cutout of my face (which I carefully crafted using a mirror and my best markers) apparently represents my spirit these days.. so sayeth the preggo, and so it goes.)

2. I cut my hair.. short. Really short. Shorter than I've ever cut it. Or really, a stylist cut it. I just sat there. And she dyed it. Yes. I am pregnant and I dyed my hair which, if I may remind you, is way better than doing heroin. BUT it looks a lot better than it has for the last several months and I'm pretending that all of that mousy, excess hair is what was weighing me down. When I got home I sifted through my closet, through all of the clothes I could wear a year ago, until I got to the shoe pile. I located my rockin' stilettos - you know, the ones that got me into this mess - and blew the dust off of them. I thought they would be perfect to wear with my new do, and then I remembered, "Oh yeah. Pregnant..doomed."

3. I'm so sick of the word "pregnant". Give me my life back!!!
If the baby does not come by the 11th I will be induced on the 17th, at which time, Jack will receive his first grounding for not coming home on time. We don't play. Mess with the bull and you get the horns. You know what I'm sayin'?
Are you even listening, Jack?

4. Today was the last day of school. As always, I am relieved and sad and ecstatic all in one gut-filling yarn ball. I haven't let myself think about it too much because I really will miss several of my students, especially those I've had in class for the last 2 years (my IBers - not the delinquents.. Well hell. I'll miss my little delinquents, too). Ick.

**Using a baseball metaphor makes me want hot dogs.....and pie. Mmmm. Churros! And what the hell? My sport is hockey! Congrats to the Red Wings. Y'all are a hell of a team.. a hell of a Scandinavian team with all your red beards and pasty skin! But a hell of a team none-the-less.

Backstreet Birdie

My sis-to-be Sarah sent this for a laugh. I like it because it makes everyone watching bob their heads, too. Mimicking a parrot is funny AND ironic.
Rich especially appreciates the headbanging at the end since for him getting through the Backstreet part was a bit painful..
Enjoy!

Not sure how I feel about...

1. the fact that I am supposed to get up and get ready for work in 3 hours and I can't make myself sleep.

2. the fact that I am so worried about why the baby is moving so much - more than he has in a while - that I can't sleep.

3. the fact that I couldn't support two of my friends yesterday: one because she was wrong and was unfair/unreasonable, the other because I am too tired to fight with or for anyone lately.

4. the fact that I really want to participate in all of the wonderful celebrations that are happening around me (graduation, vespers, retirement parties, getting coffee with my good friend) but I am unable because my body won't allow it.

5. the fact that I can't make myself pick up the ringing phone because I know the line is filled with people who want to know the status of the pregnancy and, because it's all I think about, I don't want to talk about it for fear of what reaction I'll receive.

6. the fact that I don't automatically have that female intuition regarding taking care of children; I have to work at seeing parenthood as a new, wonderful experience and not a binding, stagnant one.

7. the fact that I haven't "stayed" in the same place for more than 5 years in a row in the last 15 years, and I am feeling an incredible itch to move - houses, jobs, continents, whatever.

8. the fact that I really don't like (and haven't liked) being pregnant, mostly because it makes me need people and even though I love people, I am bad at letting myself need them.. what if they don't need me in return?

9. the fact that I place (most of my) self worth on being needed/wanted.

10. the fact that I have started to notice that whenever anything is difficult, stressful, or painful, I catch myself holding my breath - and justify it.

Edge TV-Edge Gel Girls

OK. Um. Yeah. What exactly is the advertising angle here? I mean I know about the first part, that it is every straight guy's dream to have gorgeous women fight a "shaving cream war" on his "stubble", but what's the deal with the second part -the green, wanton, rocket girls who apparently carry a scent that is appealing to men, so that they can be appealing to women. How is that part attractive to either sex?

But I suppose the ad does "get a man going."

Exactly where he is going is still questionable. If a man told me that he had a fantasy about women rocketing up his nose for an erotic nose disco, I believe my answer to the question of where he is going has to be, "I don't care where you go, but get your schnoz the hell away from me," followed by, "The answer to going up your nose in any way or form is and always will be no! I'm definitely not into that."

Bizarre.

IB, UB, WeB Finished!!!

Two years ago, the Fougs forced me to do something I adamantly did NOT want to do. Because I love her, I eventually gave in. I'm talking about teaching IB(International Baccalaureate).

Folks compare IB to Advanced Placement, the difference being that in AP, the students get to choose to take AP English, history, psychology, chemistry, or whatever course at which they excel. IB students have to take ALL advanced core courses - in all areas - even in their weak subjects. The really awesome AP students generally take 4 or 5 AP tests at the end of the course. Most opt to take 1 or 2. IB students sit for 14 or more exams (lasting anywhere from 1-3.5 hours each), plus orals, plus an extended essay (similar to a Masters thesis), and they have to complete 150 community service hours (CAS). The exams are mostly essays and short answer, including the math ones. Oh, AND they may choose to take the AP exams as well. My students had 3 straight weeks of IB testing. (!)

Needless to say, IB is an incredibly difficult programme, but just being a candidate for the IB diploma is an automatic entrance to the honors college at several universities. Many of my kids have awesome scholarships AND they have the opportunity to go to school anywhere in the world. All of this if offered even before the exam scores come back (Their tests are marked all over the world! For my class, one paper was sent to the UK, the other to Brazil).

Basically my students are amazing for even trying, but I also have to give props to the teachers. The diploma program is two years worth of curriculum, and we've had to step-up our teaching methods, reinvent wheels, and learn, along with the students, how to survive the IB. I am ecstatic to report that our first group of 21 guinea pigs is finally done with exams. We won't know their scores until July 6th, but we had our celebration for them Friday night where they received their IB stoles for graduation.

My students made a confessional video about surviving the IB experience (shown to all who attended the celebration, including the principal, parents, and members of the school board). You may view it (hopefully) at the end of this post. It is 8 minutes long and is edited poorly (sorry it was my first attempt at movie making), but shows the caliber of student that we had.. and it shows that they are still goofy kids.

Thanks for making me teach IB, Fougs! It was so worth all of the blood sweat and tears.