J'Espere

Over the last seven days, these are actual thoughts I have had or things that I have said, that I think directly connect us to both the joy of Christmas and the stress that goes with it. Merry Christmas! 1. (happened in Target): In the event of a sudden onslaught of zombies, what are my weapon choices? Ahh, the wooden Advent Calendar marked down 30%. 2.  (Harris Teeter) How did I leave without milk? How am I in my car, full of groceries, without the @!)$#K milk? 3. Maybe it's time SL drank more water than milk. 4. Did I really just ask the guy behind the counter to help me find a "lighter oolong tea"? Who am I? 5. I'm going to go for a run. Nah, I'm going to take a nap. 6. Did Mary stress over Hannukah gifts for Jesus every year? 7. There is a Prius with a "I'm a Conservative" sticker. Right next to an Elephant sticker. Oh, irony. 8.  "Yes, I'm looking for fresh cranberries. Not canned. Well, would you mind going and looking?

Occasionally, it is time for change. There are some fixtures, however, that don’t change. Monday- Friday, barring a plague, I go to work. SL usually goes to bed by 7:30/7:45. In the morning I have oatmeal, then I kiss my baby and head off into the amazing world of librarianship and education. And in the afternoons I go for a run or head to the gym. Until lunch one day, when I heard a co-worker talking about the new barre3 studio that had just opened nearby. Actually, I think talking is not the appropriate word. I think raving better suits it. She was loving it. She is a runner, too, so my ears perked up a bit as I listened to her explain that barre3 truly was the best of ballet, pilates and yoga. And my former ballet dancer and current yoga loving self listened up. I will be the first to say that I was already aware that barre3 was coming to Raleigh. Early on, I had “liked” the Facebook page, and followed some of the health posts. But I had done nothing beyond that. Then, one

I have no idea when Mercutio spoke that line, or if he even did. And I would definitely fact check it, but I am actually physically so worn out that I don't even care. We have a plague upon our house. It started a couple of weeks ago when things were going really, really well . Like suspiciously well. I was getting coffee every morning, the days were the perfect weather/daylight balance for running, and I had just discovered this new workout called barre3 (more on that in a later blog). Meals were being eaten at a reasonable time by adults and SL was finally saying "Mama". Did I mention laundry was also folded and in drawers? Because this seems to be an important detail. Next thing I know I am getting one of those urgent calls from our sweet babysitter that SL has a fever and isn't feeling well. There are very few things that are sadder than a sick toddler, and our sweet baby proved it. She was miserable and her nose was an unstoppable faucet. She also still

I have become obsessed with lunch boxes. There. I said it. It’s out there.   Now we can all move forward into the dilemma that comes with obsessing over something like a lunch box post elementary school.   I think for most people lunch boxes aren’t a big deal, because it’s just lunch. And if you forget lunch you can always run out and grab it. Unless you’re a teacher. And only have half an hour on a good day if everything is running smoothly and on time. If you’re wondering how often that happens, I’m going to go out on a limb and say 70% of the time. The other part of this is that even if everything is going great, and running on time, and no one is sick, injured or otherwise engaged, it’s not like we’re bringing in the big bucks. So for most of us, eating out is both unrealistic and physically impossible.             Of course the upside is we are healthier, right? We’re pulling things out of our pantry and putting together beautiful lunches to enjoy peacefully during the   twenty m

            This year was the most normal I have ever felt on 9/11. I cried on the way to work, but didn’t really think about it once I was teaching, and honestly, not a single one of my students asked about it.   I handled storytime and activities, a research project, finding band aids for small cuts and bruises normally and soon the day was over and I was out on the Greenway running.             13 years ago, I was 19 years old. I was in the process of rushing, and I was in early morning classes, and I was busy almost all the time. That was during the time of my most successful yoga practice too. On the morning of September 11, 2001, I got up early and ran from my apartment to the gym (it was about 1 mile). Once there I was running on the track, listening to a morning show, when it was interrupted in what I thought was a joke at first. There was someone talking about a plane crashing into the North Tower of the WTC. I thought it was the most awful prank I had ever heard. Then, at

    Our sweet, always diligent legislature passed the new teacher pay schedule this summer, and with it touted the "largest teacher pay raise" in NC history. Except is it really a pay raise? Again, I question it, this time with numbers in front of me.       So I started looking at the numbers, reminding myself of the scale I had been handed when I began teaching. It showed small but steady increases for each year I taught. In case you are one of the many who believe that teacher pay is ridiculously high, the numbers were usually around $400, with larger jumps at certain increments.  Our legislature argued it wasn't competitive enough with other teacher salary scales around the country- it isn't, it didn't offer many incentives for teachers to remain in NC after finishing their education degree- it doesn't, and it needed to go. So it went.  NCAE and teachers everywhere were hesitant, but at least something was being done, right?      It turns out that is wher

Before I could publish my post about Ferguson, another article popped up in my newsfeed. This time about a 9 year old who shot a shooting instructor at a shooting range: 9 Year Old Shoots Instructor . It actually wouldn’t have bothered me that much- after all, any time you handle a loaded weapon you are risking death- except that the gun she was shooting was a Uzi. A Uzi. The real thing- an automatic weapon preferred by the Israelites in the 1940s. And she could not handle the recoil and started spraying fire, killing her instructor. It’s being called a “tragic accident”. But is it either? To be sure I understood that a 9 year old American girl (please don’t even TRY to compare our children to child soldiers) had been given a Uzi as a recreational toy (and yes, if it is used by a child, it is a TOY).  So I consulted Wikipedia and here is what I read: The   Uzi   ( Hebrew :   עוזי ‎, officially cased as   UZI ) is a family of   Israeli   open-bolt , blowback -operated   submachine gu