Getting MOJO Back

I'm up in the Green Mountains, once again, where I've been for about the past sixteen years, take off the one year I spent in Finland.  It's always been a place where I've relaxed, read, and done lots of writing.  This year is no different.  However, let's admit it.  Surrounded by a lot of family adds a different dynamic.  I'm a people pleaser.  I'm always nervous that people are happy, or mad at me.  This adds to a lot of stress and anxiety.  But that's my baggage to deal with - no one else's.

After such a harsh school year, I've rediscovered a love of writing - through postcards and pen pal letters.  It's felt so good to write those things again!  I've purchased special cards for my pen pals overseas.  I've been excited to make contacts again through Postcrossing.com.  It feels great! I was in a very dark place this past spring - maybe even more dark than I liked to admit in my previous blog post.  I feel like a weight has been lifted, now that I am able to start cooking again, writing to pen pals, and reading lots and lots of books.  While on vacation here I've gone through seven books.  I'm lucky in that I'm a very fast reader.

I just finished reading, "Behind Closed Doors."  Anyone read that yet?  So disturbing.  An abused wife whom no one would ever imagine being abused.  I think this happens in our middle-to upper middle class societies more often than we'd like to admit.  We want our lives, and those around us, to fit into the cookie cutter formations.  We are all perfect.  We are all normal.  We go home to good lives, Netflix series, and solid meals.  But that's not always the case.  I think this is why I'm beginning to hate Facebook more and more.  WITH A PASSION.  Our lives aren't all about the Facebook posts.  So many of us are facing daily battles that aren't on the Facebook posts.  The battery.  The anxiety.  The overextending debt.  The child with tough circumstances that we're afraid to admit because the other "mommies" won't accept.  I almost want to create a "Dark Side Facebook" where everyone can come out - with their side where they're afraid to leave the house, scared to drive on on-ramps, admit that they feed their kids McDonald's, and reply that they have sugar every day in their diet.  I am so done with the high and mighty people on the web.  Please.  Stop accusing all of us of being human.  Let us be who we are. We want to live in our own skin.  Be who we are.  I'm not one to confirm - to any standard - whether it be vegan, fast food, gluten free, or whateverthehellyouthink.  I just want to be me.  LET ME BE AND LEAVE ME THE *&^%$# ALONE!

Maybe I'm just feeling my oats on this whole WWW thing.  I've thought about setting up an anonymous blog, as I don't want to insult people I know with my thoughts.  Yes, I'm that afraid that my personal thoughts will offend people I know.  Isn't that sad?  That people I know will no longer like me for who I am.  That is the world in which I live.  The stress.  The thoughts.  My thoughts.  I feel as if the people who know me won't want to know what I have to say.

Thoughts are powerful.  Words are even more powerful.  And those words can be even more damaging.  That's why I'm afraid to write.  So I think going forward I will choose to write in private...

El fin

Wow!  I haven't been here in forever.  And there's a reason why.

My past year was from Hell.  Honestly.

I learned a lot of life lessons, that perhaps I should have learned at an earlier age.  Maybe I always had them in my toolbox, but was just blind sighted by the cruelty that humanity can throw at a person.

I learned this past year that people's own interest will always override friendships.  To the point where they will be downright cruel to you.  I have been hurt.  I'm sick of politics.  People who I thought were friends only had their self-interests at heart.  You know who you are.  Is it immature of me to put this in a blog post?  Perhaps.  Please don't ask me for favors in the future.  You will not get them.

I received numerous great letters from my students at the end of the year that made me cry.  I have always been an advocate that middle school is more about personal growth than the subject matter. Kids are changing at a rapid rate and need to be self-aware.  I try to be there for them, not only at an academic level but at a social level as well.  It's why I do an amazing Writer's Club (those guys make my week)!  And help out with the Yearbook.  I ask kids - both in Spanish and English - how they are doing.  I truly want to know.  One student wrote to me, "You have the charisma to connect with your students unlike any teacher I have ever encountered before."  Oh, the tears!  I want my kids (as I always call them) to leave my classroom as better human beings - above all else.  I want them to love themselves.  Stand tall.  Talk with confidence - in both Spanish and English.

I recently said that I have "120 souls" each year.  And that I do.  They are not merely people.  They are souls - filled with loves and hates and hopes and aspirations.  These kids are on the cusp of identity.  It's my job to help them grow - both with Spanish AND identities.  I remember going to the NELMS conference and hearing just that.  I was so HAPPY!  We do so much more than just teach a subject!  Please, administrators, when doing our annual reviews take that into consideration.  It's not just Spanish.  Or Language Arts.  Or History.  Or Math.  It's building confidence and self-esteem in a child who is going through what is probably the toughest part of his/her life.

I love my job teaching.  I stalk my online system each day to see what kids I have for next year, as I'm that excited.  With all the needless paperwork and such, I still treasure that connection in the classroom.  My students keep me going, year after year.  I truly adore them.  It's why I left a great job in corporate recruiting for education.

Hugs to all.  Above all, please stop putting pressure on your kids.  They are awesome beings just as they are.  Love them.  Hug them.  They will end up amazing human beings.  Their happiness is paramount.  REMEMBER THAT!

Cookie Bar Monday

I'm just relaxing here while my chocolate chip Oreo cookie bars are in the oven.  Do they sound like heaven?  They most certainly do!  It's yet another recipe I grabbed from Pinterest, and you can find it here - Chocolate Chip Oreo Cookie Bars.  So yummy.  It's a cooler day today, so the heat of the kitchen wasn't too bad.  Right now my house smells like a combination of Oreos and chocolate chips.  So divine!

I love baking.  It allows me to totally get lost in my thoughts and completely relax, which is what I wanted to do this afternoon.  The madness of school returns next week.  As much as I love teaching, I love these lazy days of books, writing (yes, I've tried), and baking.  It's been a good summer, but it's time to go back.

I've been reading, "The Nest," recently, and am more than half-way through the book.  I'll admit I'm a bit tired with it.  Reading about other people's financial woes is, well, disheartening.  This family depended so much upon this inheritance, and now it's stripped away.  Sad.  But it so often happens with families.  The in-fighting.  The stealing.  The lying.  Everyone has a story or has heard one similar, and hence why "The Nest" is probably so popular.  But I'll finish reading it anyway.  I'm one of those people who always finishes a book, even if it completely bothers me.  I just have to.  I must!

I started a short story, which is a big step for me where I've had writer's block for so long.  I wrote a page.  A page!  It felt good to get words back on the canvas.  I'm hoping to have a Writer's Club at school this year, as the kids really motivated me in the past to be working on something.  Two years ago I did the club, and had such a talented group of writers.  I was so proud of their efforts.  I'd like to bring in a guest speaker, too, to help them hear about how the writing process works from an actual author or someone related to the field.  I'm excited!

The bars are about to come out of the oven.  Yum, yum, yum.  Go try the recipe, and let me know how it comes out!

Just Words On A Page

I'm writing just to write.  I've been less than inspired to write on my novel (ah, Three By Three how you torture me) this summer.  I've been relaxing.  A lot of changes have taken place at school, and I'm apprehensive about the future.  August 24th I need to report for an event, and I can feel the nerves gathering already.  Yes, everything will be fine, but it's still the unknown.

I feel a lot of times teaching is like acting.  I have to get up on that stage, put on my game face, and go.  But what if I don't have a game face?  I sometimes wonder.  It's so damn hard on days where you're sick, or tired, or just not completely pumped up to be the most awesomeness that you usually are.  I also think kids are kids and should be treated as such.  They're not mini-Einsteins, (especially with middle school), awaiting an acceptance to Princeton or Harvard or Yale.  Let them enjoy the last of their childhood!  Why are we pushing them so much?  Push push push.  All for the kid to have a major breakdown and depression at the age of thirteen.  It's just crazy.  I'm the goofy teacher, the one who just bought a poster about renting monkeys.  Yes, they'll have to decipher it from Spanish to English, but once they do, they'll be good to rent a monkey anywhere in the world.  Hey - it's a valuable skill.  Is it not?

The photo above is from my happy place, Lake Champlain.  It was so nice to go there this year once again for two weeks.  I enjoyed everyone's company, and the two college visits.  Never mind the fact that Kidlet B is lamenting that UVM doesn't allow water bottles on campus ("But no water bottles!  No throw away water bottles?!  What gives?!"), all in all it was a fun and productive vacation.  I'm loving the heat, despite not having central air.  Visits to Maine have been awesome (Thank you, F&G!).

But I want to write more.  I just cannot seem to focus on one topic or theme without getting distracted, like a toddler in front of a candy bar.  I have an idea for a new novel, but not sure if it's too like one that's one the market now.  I keep thinking, "Marketability!" before I write.  Perhaps I should just write, and not worry about whether or not it's sell-worthy.

So, I still have the day job, as much as I would like to be writing full time, and volunteering at the library as a page.  Ah, that would be heaven!  Can you arrange for me to win the lottery soon so that can happen?  That would be nice.  Just shelving books, seeing all the clear-cut letters on the spines.  I love viewing all the unique titles; it gets my mind roaming.  I miss working in the library.  Perhaps I can go back someday soon when my boys are older and driving themselves.

Enjoy the rest of summer!  Please keep in touch!  And get ready for the onslaught of fall!

Drive, They Said

So, I'm searching for a new car for the kidlets.  This has taken me into the Craigslist domain.  And oh, what an adventure it is!  People don't return emails, phone calls, or messages.  Gosh, it's just like online dating but without the final prize at the end.  Today, though, I think we found a car.

We?  I say we because I have my brother dragged into this endeavor with me.  Why?  Because I'm nervous about buying a car on my own.  He knows what to look for, and how to push a car to its limits.  That's why I'm bringing him with me.  Do I feel like the village idiot when buying a car?  Most certainly yes, especially with a used car.  My brother knows the questions to ask, the things under the hood to prod at, and where to crawl under the body of the car.

I don't want to jinx it, but I found an almighty Volvo.  Yes, you know me and Volvos.  It's solid, except for the breaks.  (I can hear you now.  "Mausigal!  The breaks?!  That's like an elemental part of the car!")  It's ok.  I'll get them fixed.  New tires.  A/C is running ok.  Windows working.  Just enough dents and scratches to make it look like an awesome teen car.  I love it!  I want it!  Perhaps that's part of the problem.  I'm driving a 2015 Volvo, and in my heart I want to drive a clunker.  I want the car with 150,000 miles, proving to everyone "That it's a Volvo and it can go the extra mile!"

Even if I had the money, I wouldn't want them in something new.  I'd still want Kidlet A and Kidlet B in a clunker.  There's something so quintessential about the high school experience, owning a clunker car.  There's nothing better than a Volvo wagon for that!  I still remember JF's Volvo wagon in college - the "Dead Sled," covered with Greatful Dead stickers on the back.  I hope my son's car becomes as emblematic as hers, complete with stickers, paint, graffiti - you name it!  It's theirs!  Let it become an icon!

I am truly blessed that I can give my kids a car.  I've been saving for awhile now, putting aside money each month towards this.  I didn't have a car  in high school.  My parents drove me, or I borrowed the family car on weekends.  Hopefully they'll appreciate it.

Bring on the new wheels!  Go Swedes!

Heart-Shaped Swiss

I believe in small miracles.  Yes, the picture of Jesus in the laminate.  Things like that get me all excited.  So, you can imagine my happiness this morning when I found a little heart in the middle of Kidlet B's Swiss cheese for his sandwich.  Can you see it above?  That little heart?  It's just perfect!  So small, so loving, so unassuming.  I just wanted to scream with joy!  I couldn't have cut a heart that beautiful!  And it was all Kidlet B's!

I bet he dove into the sandwich and never looked back.  Never even noticed the heart.  Because he is a hungry sixteen year old boy.  And I am a nostalgic forty-something who likes to see symbolism in such things as license plates.

'Cause you never know?  Right?  I once was on my way to a date and saw a license plate that said, "BLIEVE."  I needed that at just that time.  Why?  Because I was so down on dating and the whole process.  Things got better.  And seeing "BELIEVE" turned my attitude around.  I believe in signs.

Do you?  Do you believe there are little signs that change our day, change our outlook?  Perhaps it's just our outlook that sees them.  If I wasn't looking at license plates, I never would have seen the "BLIEVE" one.  My mind was open to the possibilities of a signal, and it arrived.  Whoa.  Now I sound like "The Secret."

Kidlet B still isn't home from school, so I haven't asked him yet if he saw all the love in his sandwich.  At least he will know his mom cared.

Silent

I've become afraid of blogging.  Yes, I have all sorts of ideas in my head, but the notion of somehow offending someone, somewhere has started to overwhelm me.  I think it began a few years ago when I suggested to my sisters-n-law about a post about the "Market Basket Deli Rant."  In my mind the post was rather funny - people who go up and order five pounds of items, getting a sample for each one, contemplating the thickness of each slice.  ARGH!  All this at seven a.m.  My sisters-in-law slammed my snobbery, prodding me to contemplate who did I think I was with my mere order of a 2/3 pound of turkey and 2/3 pound of honey baked ham, no samples, no special instructions.  Other people had begged me to do the "Market Basket Deli Rant," but the piece fell to the wayside.  I was too afraid of the backlash.  I didn't want to express my opinions.

I think this is what it's come to with my writing.  I'm downright scared of pissing someone off that I just don't write.  Some pieces seem too personal.  Some pieces I start seem too generic.  I could always blog about the cats, I suppose.  But then someone, somewhere will claim I'm nothing but a cat lady, sitting in my house with the felines all day.  I guess I care too much about my audience when writing.  Perhaps that's really sad.  I used to thoroughly enjoy posting here, but now I'm downright scared.

I'm losing my voice.

I may start up a blog somewhere on the internet without my name, without links to Facebook (like I was doing), so I can write freely.  If people find me, so be it.  But in the land of the worldwide web, it will be hard to do.  Then I can write freely, and have an audience slam me at will - people who don't know me.  I miss writing.  But I don't know if this blog is the tool I want to use to express myself any longer.

I guess that's the danger in writing - one's always going to have an adversary somewhere.  Maybe I just need to learn to live with the critics.