What have I done

The last few weeks I have spent prepping to be a 7th and 8th grade ELA teacher. 

As I wrote earlier, initially I said no to this job.  I hadn't been looking for opportunities to teach middle school, although I had thought about teaching high school.  When this one came up, I declined because I wasn't sure I wanted to quit my college jobs to teach middle schoolers. I loved being on campus around the students. I had enough classes lined up plus writing center hours to make a nearly full schedule with Fridays off. I have a daugther who's a senior who needs me. 

But I kept thinking about teaching at the kids' school - it was keeping me awake at night and absorbing my thoughts during the day. Although I knew I'd rather teach high school than middle school, I kept thinking maybe it's time I step into full time teaching, and perhaps this was an opportunity I shouldn't pass up - the door was open to a convenient and rewarding (albeit challenging) job. If I ccouldn't stop thinking about it, maybe this was a call. I'd like being at the same place as the girls. And going to Mass is a part of the job! But still I hesitated.

Then the principal called me back at the end of June and asked again if I would consider teaching maybe as a long term sub. Since I hadn't stopped thinking about whether to switch directions in my life to become a school teacher instead of an adjunct, I thought maybe this was a sign. I like feeling needed. The school lost several staff and faculty, and by midsummer had only filled about half the spots.  They needed me!  Another friend and my aunt both talked abut how much they enjoyed their middle school classes. Feeling altruistic, I said yes, I would take the job - if I could still teach the great questions seminar, which means leaving school early two days a week for 8 weeks. The principal said yes. 

For about a week, I was excited about it. I checked out 30 books from the library about teaching. I talked for a long time to my aunt who recently retired. She sent me all kinds of useful Google docs and gave me great ideas about interactive lesson plans - a huge help. I started digging into my old home school grammar stuff and reading the summer reading assignments and making lists of novels to potentially assign.

But this week, I have woken up with the pit in my stomach thinking, what have I done? What was I thinking? I've walked away from a good thing into a hard thing. How will I keep up with it all? This is the same pit in my stomach I had when we decided to move and buy this house two years ago. I lost ten pounds that summer. 

Ah me. It seems my weakness is being malcontent. 

My husband, who initially encouraged me not to take the job, is now trying to help me see this as an opportunity for spiritual growth. It's for the good of others - like doing a year of service after college.  It also could be my penance, my time in purgatory, for my lack of gratitude for what I have, for my inability to rest in the goodness of the present.  And maybe I'm just suffering from nerves - anxiety about the unknown. If I stay focused on what needs to happen next, I don't feel quite as overwhelmed.  My fourth grader is thrilled we'll be at the same place.  My senior wants to redo my wardrobe and help decorate.  I'm jumping into middle grade lit again trying to decide what novels to teach. The textbook is only so-so (another reason I started to second guess my decision), so I need to come up with a list of texts to supplement. 

I've been thinking a lot about my aunt who passed away and how she loved and inspired her students. She had enthusiasm and a sense of humor, and a love for literature and a heart for young people. She might have questioned my jumping ship from adjuncting to middle school, but she would, I think, have praised teaching as a job like no other - incredibly difficult, but incredibly rewarding. She may be my patron saint.

More choices

I've written before about how terrible I am at making decisions. (**Just checked -- There are 15! posts about how bad I am at deciding - I haven't improved!)  Maybe as a child I was not an overthinker with decision paralysis, but the past few years (10+ according to my research on this blog) in particular have forced us to confront several big decisions that were taxing emotionally and physically:  Retirement, jobs, houses, colleges, cars, etc. Now I'm paralyzed by another job choice. I lay awake at night, and then I lie awake in the morning, and all I think is choice A or choice B? Or is there a choice C?

As soon as I make up my mind one direction, I question it. As past posts prove, I do this often, usually in relationship to making a big purchase like a house or a car, but often about jobs - and they have all worked out! I drive my husband crazy when I wiffle-waffle, so I try not to talk about it, and usually after a period of time I get over it or our life circumstances change, so it's not an issue any more. 

The choice I'm facing now is again about a job. On paper, we are blessed to be in a position where I don't have to be compelled to work financially, but future financial decisions loom: more college bills and retirement costs ahead. So I have been thinking now is the time I go to work fulltime. I've applied to a few jobs - advising at the community college, teaching grade school, teaching high school, and another staff position at the community college. I have one offer. 

But if I say yes, it means that I have to give up my various adjunct jobs. On the one hand, I have long complained I make too little money and work too hard at adjuncting. On the other hand, I love walking onto campus and working with students and planning the lessons, and I'm finally getting to know some of my coworkers. 

I also keep thinking about going back to school. This is a pipe dream. It is not practical. It would be a lot of work and potentially costly.  It would take several years.  Even the application is hard, which I would work on this summer and fall for admission for fall 2024. And my track record with being a consistent writer is sketchy at best. The goal would be to move from part time to full time at the community college or elsewhere and contribute to scholarship. The reality is I would still be an adjunct when I finish, and any scholarly pieces I would write would impact a small group of people, if any.

And I just turned 50 last week. Getting older. 

So do I do the practical thing and contribute to our family finances -  the work would also be rewarding - or do I try for the pipe dream one last time while continuing to teach ESL and composition and literature and tutor? 

I do feel like the work I do currently is meaningful. My adult ESL learners were an awesome bunch this semester, and they were so, so kind at the end of the year with their gratitude. I admire the work of the organization (in addition to the community college) that supports their learning with wrap around services. 

I also know the work of teaching primary or secondary students would be rewarding, although also difficult and time consuming.

Another factor contributing to my decision is that this coming year is my sixth child's last year of high school. If I take a full time position, it will be a lot harder to take her on college visits, to help her with her college essays, and to be present for her in this last year - although past experience shows that seniors aren't hanging around the house all that much.

Many mothers work full time while being present and committed parents, but I am grateful I was able to stay home so many years, even though it was hard and often boring and frustrating. With fondness I remember those years I spent home with the kids, first schooling them and then supporting them while they went to school. I will still have another child at home for 8 more years after #6 graduates. But this last child is doing great in school, and we are happy with her school, so I don't see a return to home schooling for this child, who already is lonely for her siblings. 

My heart is leaning toward declining the job offer, sticking with the status quo, applying to grad school, and re-evaluating next spring. My mercenary side is calculating the money I am saying no to if I decline. My altruistic side is tempted to say yes to a position which really needs to be filled.  Saying yes would alleviate the pressure on some people who are working overtime right now. I like to be helper, especially where there is a need. Adjuncts are pretty easy to replace.  

I've consulted friends and family, and so far the results are mixed - half say go for it! The other half say run away!

So help me out by voting A : saying yes to new full time job that isn't exactly the job I would pick, and would be a job I might want to transition out of in a year or two,

or B: sticking with what I'm doing now while trying to fulfill a dream.

Or suggest an option C... is there a media via? 

*** I have prayed about this. I've tried the advice our pastor gave us a couple years ago about the Ignatian practice of making a chart with values and inclinations.  I'd love for God to speak clearly. Pentecost Sunday's readings and homily about peace, peace, peace reminded me that my present decision doesn't really matter all that much - as long as I do whatever I do with love and without anxiety.  Those past decisions all worked out just fine. So I really should continue to pray echoing St. Julian: all will be well, all will be well, all will be well. 

Celebrations

May has been a flurry of activities and hard decisions. With most of our area vaccinated, and most of our family, life is almost back to its normal pace. My husband and I and the older kids have all had our shots. The two youngest girls are 1. not eligible, and 2. I admit I have some hesitancy about the teen getting it because of the information I have read - and experienced - with cycle irregularities post-vaccine. It's probably nothing to worry about, but I feel it is something that should be studied some more - in many different scenarios, not just with shots. All kinds of medical studies don't look at this variable. That said, in time, continued studies will most likely reemphasize that the covid vaccine is safe, and the girls will get caught up.

So what have we been up to? At the beginning of the month, the library had a chalk walk in conjunction with a belated Earth Day celebration. We chalked birds and flowers - not the ones shown; those were by high school art students. The school shared chalk pastels, which provided more vivid colors and thicker coverage to create beautiful works of art by the high schoolers. 

We've also been going to basketball games and track meets. Football ended after they played five games and won the league game. Basketball had about 10 games, and league play begins next week. This was our son's first season ever to play because he used to play rugby in the winter. He wasn't getting much playing time in the beginning of the season and wanted to quit, but by the end, he was playing most of the games. At the banquet the coach gave him some nice compliments. The experience was a good example of how perseverance pays off. Meanwhile, the league meet for track was today after four meets, and our freshman daughter qualified for the next level of competition. She shows real promise in the 400m and in the 300m hurdles. So does our son - he doubled up and ran at a couple meets, but scratched from the league meet because tonight was prom. I wanted him to choose track, because he likely would have qualified but he wasn't interested. I didn't push the lesson in perseverance this time. So the seasons were short and sweet, but at least the kids got to do something. I found it funny that the players had to wear masks on the sidelines, but while competing, they didn't have to, even though in one scenario they are spaced out sitting, and in the other they are breathing on and touching each other. But weekly testing has prevented anyone from spreading Covid  - if the tests are correct.

I am back in the classroom, as of the end of April, teaching Nature Writing. It's nice to be back, but I have a very small class - just 10 students, and some of them chose the online modality, so I have a "near-far" classroom. Unfortunately, 3 of my 10 students are failing. I don't know what is going on - they just don't turn in assignments, even though they come to class. Last term, my online students didn't seem to struggle as much to get their work turned in. Maybe students are just overwhelmed with the end of school and being back in person. Or maybe the weight of this year is catching up, and their coping methods seem to be crashing down. These students are truly suffering. 

We've also traveled again - this time to the college graduation of our second son. He had a rough spring finishing his fifth year architecture final project. It's a major undertaking. He designed a school for traditional building arts - stonemasonry, brick work, wrought ironwork, woodcarving, etc. He even went to visit a similar such school in Charleston back in January to get more information about what such a school would entail. Then he had to present the final project a couple weeks ago on Zoom. And at the same time, he was still job searching. As of yesterday, he has gainful employment at a high end residential architectural firm in Boston. 

Job decisions were the highlight of the month. After months of interviewing, my husband has finally decided to take a job with the University of Texas in their facilities department. This was a tough decision.  A lot of sleep was lost, wrinkles and gray hairs gained. Even after making pro/con lists, praying, and talking, I still feel a bit unsettled. It's a wonderful job for him, but Texas was not at the top of my list for retirement destinations. I feel like I have no real agency in life sometimes. I'll likely love it eventually - just as I do this place. Familiarity breeds affection, But after being back in the Midwest last weekend for the graduation, I was reminded of how much I miss thick green trees, thick green grass, thick green shrubbery, and lots of flowers. I am also more than a little sad to leave California, even though my heart has never felt quite at home here. We have wonderful, wonderful friends here, a great parish, a dream lifestyle, the ocean a mile away. I love the school where I teach, and I love my classes.  And there's the weather. Why are we leaving again?

I have to keep reminding myself that California was never going to be our forever home.  We don't have much family out here, although our friends are like family.  Although there were some job options to stay here, they weren't quite the right fit, nor were there many, if any, options elsewhere. And the median home price is $815,000 here. Texas is closer to our family in the southwest.  The job is great. The schools look good. But I'm in mourning. Zillow is depressing. I'm worried about the kids, although they've always done just fine. This is the first move the seven year old will remember, since she was only one when we moved here, and she has a passel of really sweet friends to say good-bye to.  After an initial burst of excitement, I'm suffering from cold feet. I'm sure we'll find a great community there, but right now I'm driving my husband crazy with my wavering and "what ifs." Moving isn't easy.  And I need to keep up with my sleep, and stop trolling Zillow because that's one of the sources of my anxiety.  

I hate to end with a glum note, but I need to log off. I'll share some happier photos later. I had a birthday! We have family coming for the holiday weekend! Our son's wedding is just three weeks away! And I still don't have a dress...

Science fair taste test

Basketball competitions

Baby raven in need of rescue at the park. I'm pretty sure it perished after the elementary kids came out for recess and poked at it.

Two of these three are now graduated from the place where this photo was taken. The third will finish next year. 

Mother's Day flowers

May crowning with Little Flowers

Track Queen

Off to graduation! I need to add more photos to my google drive of that event - so I'll come back and post more later.

March Madness

 Despite the title of this post, I don't really follow basketball, but our son just started playing. His first game was last night. They lost, but he had fun being on the court. It seems March came in like a lamb and is going out like a lion.  The month started quietly enough, but here we are at the end of March with a full calendar.

As a "Journal of the Plague Year," this blog hasn't functioned very well. I am an unreliable reporter. As we have passed the one year anniversary of the initial lockdown, it seems appropriate to stop and reflect, but I don't have time to gather big thoughts about the world, and only a minute to reflect on how our lives have changed, which is as much as a great many people's, and probably in relative terms, about as much as they usually change in a year.  The biggest shift has been having the high schoolers at home doing Zoom school and having more family time, which has been wonderful. The kids have been more pleasant than usual. We haven't moved or had a major life change, as some people have, nor have we lost any family members, thankfully.  My husband is looking for a new job, but not because he lost his.  I had a long list of projects I was going to complete with all of this free time, and none of them has been finished. 

Now the kids are back at school two days a week. Many California public schools remain closed, but our district is small and well-endowed, so teachers were amenable to returning, even though the state teachers' unions still are fighting against returning to their jobs. Many teachers still teach from home, because half of the students are still are Zoom. Sports, however, are going full force, with practice every day and games on Fridays for football and throughout the week for basketball. Cross Country season lasted 5 weeks and is already over, but track has begun. Church is back inside. Religious education has started up again in small groups.  We have some social events on the calendar. My husband is vaccinated. We are traveling at the end of the month. Life is almost back to normal.

I know in other states life is almost completely back to pre-pandemic normal, but it is hard to shed the perception that danger lurks in every breath and on every surface. Masks and hand sanitizer will likely remain in use here for a while longer. I have a friend who just caught Covid a couple weeks ago, and one who got it in between her two shots. The first friend just lost her sense of smell; the second was pretty sick. Neither knows anyone they came in contact with who had been sick. And both are fully recovered.

Aside from the return to school and activities, the big issue commanding attention around here is my husband's job search.  He has had some interviews, and jobs are available, but not in the number that we had hoped. My top choice for him is a job for a university that has a hiring freeze. This lack of openings is one of the most challenging parts of the pandemic for us personally. He will find a job, but it may not be the job that I envisioned.  We are going to have some hard decisions to make about what to do next. I keep hoping that just the right thing will miraculously show up, but that hasn't happened yet, despite our pleas to St. Joseph.  We have been working on some discernment tools to help navigate this decision, and I know everything will work out, but I am having to let go of some romantic ideals.  The reality is our family life has shifted quite a bit since those romances first formed in my imagination, so those visions are ghosts, anyway.   

I return to the classroom next month for the second quad term, so I have some to do items on my job, too. I prefer the classroom for teaching, but will miss the ease of teaching from home. So now back to work. Below are some pictures from the last month. Spring is in the air, and I've been welcoming the return of our pink flowers around the house.  Lent is nearing its conclusion, all too soon; I still have more inner conversions to work on! But the kids are beginning to plan our Easter feast.  The difference between this Lent and last Lent is startling in retrospect. What will next year bring? 

A full calendar for this one: Swimming, ballet, religious ed, library visits and playdates

Hiking locally

A rock scramble to the top

The little free libraries in town celebrated the National Day of Unplugging with a scavenger hunt.

We visited 6 of the 12 or so in our town to find prizes - some of which we left for the next hunter, since we don't need more bookmarks and rubber band bracelets.

This one lives in a particularly colorful garden.

Seabee ball at home. Little did I know that when I skipped the ball two years ago to go on retreat, I wouldn't get to go again. Maybe someday we'll go as retirees.

Signs of spring

The climbing rose smells heavenly.

But its delicate blossoms don't do well as cut flowers.

I have kalanchoe in 5 colors around the house, but this is my favorite.

Runners!

Spoiled mongrel.

Hike 2. Three Sisters Falls.

This was great time of year to do this hike - it's often dry.

Hellebore on the path.

Lupine starting to bloom

A misty day kept crowds down and made greenery look magical.

More on discernment

Last week we watched Bishop Barron's movie about St. Catherine of Sienna because she is one of our youngest daughter's patron saints.  The kids whined about it, but then they settled in and paid attention and even asked questions like, if she hardly ate anything why does she look pregnant in that painting?

What stood out to me was a section from the second half of the movie when Bishop Barron talks about her understanding of growing in holiness and discernment. There's a tension between loving the self and loving others and loving God.  Bishop Barron paraphrases St. Catherine's idea of a "cell" of self-knowledge.

"To obtain real charity, we have to dwell constantly in the cell of self-knowledge. ... The cell is also a well where we find both earth and water, that is knowledge of our sin and knowledge of grace ... our nothingness and God's fullness."

To love others requires we know ourselves to be in need of grace and mercy.  Love is willing the good of another, but sometimes this good is something they don't want - particularly children - but how do we offer this in a humble way?

Barron goes on to describe what St. Catherine says about humility.  Here is my paraphrase of his description of her words (transcribed by a priest):  Humility of the foundation of all spiritual growth. Obedience is tied to this. But charity is at the center because God is love. We should love God first and then love all things because of God. Our business is to work for everyone's good.  The law of love is accompanied by the law of suffering ... Suffering and sorrow increase in proportion to love. When love grows so does sorrow . . .  all love is a participation in the cross.

This suffering in proportion to love is obvious to parents, but it also is evident during emergencies. But sometimes it is the suffering of letting go:

"Love is a steady stripping away of our self love, our preoccupation with the self. Turning toward God in a sinful world is especially painful. That's why you find the cross in all the great Christian mystics."

Barron goes on to paraphrase: The more love grows in us, the more the oneness with God increases.  The more we participate in love, the more we grow into oneness with God. We are always moving forward or moving backward. Always restlessly seeking. The death of self will and union with the divine will is the direction.

One of the sorrows of life is that to say yes to one thing is to say no to another, even when that is a good thing. That is when "divine will" is perhaps most difficult to discern.   I woke up this morning feeling sad that we have crossed living overseas off our list of places we would want to be sent to work. This decision is not the kind of big sacrifice that St. Catherine is talking about, but it is a decision where we are saying no to something I desire because it appeals to me more on a superficial level than because I am devoted to the idea that the real benefits to travel as education will be realized.  The two kids who would be a senior and a sophomore have been very clear let about not wanting to go overseas. They want to stay here. I imagine they would get used to living abroad, and perhaps grow to love it. But they might also stew in anger and resentment for a long time.

I have had a hard time letting go of the hope though. I like the idea of doing the hard thing.  But there are hard things everywhere.  I often have to remind myself that the place where we are is not so important as what we do while we are there.

Should we stay or should we go: Civilian vs. military

We have some big decisions looming in our future.  Taking a cue from Flannery O'Connor (and Joan Didion, who said something similar), I'm sitting down to write out some of our choices to try to figure out what I think. 

The choice at hand is whether to request to retire from the military or to request a new duty station. We have to let the detailer know in just a few days. Then, depending on the answer to that question, we have the corollary question of where to go and what to do.  If we stay in the Navy, our options include Japan, (I think Yokosuka, but I'm actually not sure), Naples, Italy,  Port Hueneme, CA, (Same place we lived before San Diego, but different command), maybe (long shot request) stay in San Diego, or Washington, DC (not really interested in this option). All of these places would be command jobs that would be great career building opportunities for my husband overseeing Navy public works and construction projects in different regions, except the long shot possibility of staying in the same job here for one more year since we'll have a child who will be a senior in high school when the current tour is completed. (That would be that child's first choice.)

If my husband decides to retire from the Navy, we have another choice. He could seek another job in the private sector either working for a large institution like a university or hospital or for a city in their public works department or as a staff architect, or apply for a job working for a construction/design/build firm.  In addition to the public works sector or in the building/construction industry, he could potentially look for something related to those fields or work for a company that does defense contracts. He has a lot of options; I'm not really worried about him getting a job, unless this coronavirus epidemic/pandemic really disrupts the economy longterm (this development might put a new twist on our choices if the crashing economy causes a hiring slowdown).

Additionally, we have to decide where to look for jobs.  We'd like to live within a day's drive of our families, but that is a pretty large area - especially now that our own children are starting to fan out on their own.  One child has a job lined up in Arizona.  One child is likely staying in California for college; child 6 also loves California and doesn't want to leave.  I've always daydreamed about living in a rural area, but my husband does not want to be a farmer, and he still needs to work for another 20-25 years, so I envision we'd look for a college town area - small but near all the conveniences, somewhere where we could live and work and go to a good church and good schools without spending too much time, if any, in the car.  That's actually possible here, but finding a walkable city limits our choices quite a bit. (Or requires that we find a job that pays enough to allow us to buy a multi-million dollar home, like the ones here. In fact, we'd need several million here, as $1-2 million would only get us 1 or 2 bedrooms or a tear-down.)  I don't want to live in a major metropolitan area like LA, DC, NYC, etc., but it would be nice to live near an airport where we could easily travel to see family/go to job sites (in the case of a construction firm).

So how to decide? For years - decades! - I have had in the back of my mind the idea that our Navy service is temporary duty, that it would come to an end sometime around this point in life, and we would begin our "real lives." My mom will laugh at that echo of my words to her and my dad when they dropped me off at college.  Have I lived a practice life all my life? Maybe - all life is practice for Heaven, right? I've always choked up at that "Temporary Home" song by Carrie Underwood. I haven't held back from jumping in to activities and friendships and adventures and have perhaps become more outgoing because I knew these jobs were just for a couple of years - or now five years in San Diego.  But now the option to make choices for a future that is 5 or 10 years long, or more, is open, and every day, a different consideration suggests itself. 

First, the reasons we might choose to ask for another command tour:  When else in our lives will we have the opportunity to live abroad?  We loved our two years in Guam. Our family bonds were strengthened, and we learned how much we didn't know about the other side of the globe.  Those two years were transformative in major and subtle ways.  But our children who are still at home will be 15, 17 and 7. The seven year old is a great age for exploring Europe or the Far East. But the 15 and 17 year old are unhappy about making such a major shift in high school. I keep trying to convince them that they would be stronger for it, that being a global citizen for a couple of years would be an experience they will value forever.  The kids have always dreaded moving, but then they have discovered friends and things to like about their new location. I like to think they are stronger for their experiences of transition, that they are less afraid of change and challenges. But would they rebel and crumple instead?

I know I romanticize life abroad. My attraction to the possibility is partly based on the stories of travel and site-seeing that our friends who are abroad now are sharing.  I like travel. I like walking around new places. I like the idea of our kids being resilient global citizens. I was thinking about it again last week as I sat listening to Pico Iyer talk about living in Japan. Iyer was inspired by Thoreau to live simply and write about travel and experiencing exotic places that present new insights and connections to the human community.   It made me want to live abroad. Other friends have talked highly of their time in Japan and Italy because the schools provide some unique opportunities for the kids, and the friendships forged there are especially strong. 

On the other hand, reading Wendell Berry and Thoreau, visiting my parents, and realizing our kids are moving out and on made me think maybe we need to put down roots so that they will come and visit us.  Retire?

Conversely, reading Elephant and Piggie in Someone is Reading Us say "I have more to give!!!" echoes in my mind. I received a long text from a Navy friend thanking me for a book and game I sent because she is spending 30 days in the hospital waiting for a bone marrow transplant and updating me on her status (hanging in there). I am so grateful for these friendships we've made in different places. I wonder if we should stay in the Navy and create more wonderful connections like those we have made so far.  Our children are moving on - so maybe we don't need roots? Stay Navy?

BUT we do still have a 5 - almost 6! - year old. I have always thought that I wanted to put down roots somewhere where the kids could run around outside and play in a woods and garden - maybe this last child will get that childhood? But she has no siblings to run and play with. Maybe we settle down and do foster care, an idea that is always echoing in the back of my mind because I admire the people who do it? And our parents are aging. They are all still healthy now, but the next two years could bring changes in their health. Retire?

BUT I also like the idea of being able to try new things, new ministries, new teaching opportunities, new hobbies, and of being able to leave behind obligations and drama when it's time to move - Stay Navy?

BUT I get frustrated with being a temporary contract worker, being an adjunct with no job stability. (My Nature Writing class didn't fill this quad, so I don't have a class for the next 8 weeks.) I think about potentially finishing my PhD at some point because I like reading and studying and discussing these ideas.  I would like to have more time to write papers and go to conferences, maybe, instead of figuring out which dentist to visit or where to get my hair cut.  I also like planting things and watching them grow.  Retire?

But maybe I like the freedom of not having to work, of being free to spend time with our family, doing things I like to do.  Am I motivated more by pride to work or because I like what I'm doing? Because my pay is almost inconsequential. Stay Navy and relieve the sense of needing to work?

AND there is the school/church piece - where will our faith grow stronger? Where will we be supported in raising our kids Catholic? Where will they be inspired to love God, their neighbor, and the world? To love life here on earth but to yearn for life in Heaven? I've felt frustrated here that our younger kids think we are "weird" for having a big family, for going to church on days that aren't Sunday, for making them go to events - which lately I haven't done a very good job of, because I get worn down by their complaints.  This problem is one that may exist everywhere.

So I'm still stuck. I met with our priest to get some advice about discernment, and he gave me some suggestions for charting consolations and desolations.  They are about equal each time I pretend we have made a decision for a day.  And it is only partially my input that goes into this decision. My husband happens to be on a mini-deployment for all of Lent on the other side of the globe, so we can't sit around and talk about it like we need to. He is wearied by the distances caused by this particular job - but if he went back to the facilities command job, he would not have to travel much - and he would likely have to travel some for a civilian job. So travel is kind of an equalizer as well...

At the most basic level, I know we will be fine whatever we decide to do - our choices are between good things.  And I know it all has a way of working out over time. For the last 24 years I have been daydreaming about getting out of the Navy, but now that the time has come, I am not so sure I'm ready to go!  Two years no longer seems a long time. The human heart has ways the mind cannot understand... I came here kicking and screaming, and now I will be dragging my heels as we leave - as has been the case at pretty much every duty station.  So I trust we'll find our niche wherever we end up.  It's just so hard to decide!

Difficult decisions

We are coming down from two months of excitement and celebrations. Last week my cousins spent the week with us, and we had a wonderful stay-cation that gave us time to reconnect as a family and to recover from all of the busyness of the previous months. We still had a full week: two birthdays, the Fourth of July, visits from other friends and another set of cousins. But the pace was relaxed, and the kids were mostly happy. Lots of pool and beach time. I loved seeing the four-year-olds, our daughter and our goddaughter, play so happily together. Pictures to come.

The happy week was a welcome break from decision-making. Or perhaps the observation of my cousins' family complicated my choices. I am faced with a decision and self-doubt and haven't found a satisfying solution.

This latest moment of self-doubt is related to another job offer. I re-submitted a few applications a several months ago when I got spooked by the reality of having three kids in college and a rent payment well over our housing allowance.  But financial motives were only part of the reason - pride, ambition, plus a sincere desire to be a part of an academic community sharing in the joys of teaching and learning all contributed to the thought that I might want to go to work. I love being on a campus. I lose track of time reading essays and researching teaching materials. I have daydreamed about having a job and have envied people who are able to go to work and experience the satisfaction of doing a job well. I have more than once confessed to envy, both of my husband and peers, of those who can point to work well done or an achievement they have accomplished. I wonder how the woman almost nominated to be a Supreme Court Justice, Amy Coney Barrett, a mother of seven who was one of my classmates, manages to have a family and a career.

The fact that I had trouble finding time to fill out the application perhaps should have been an indication that maybe now was not the right time to look for a job.

Nonetheless, I got a call last week from a small, Christian, liberal arts school here in San Diego, and went to the interview and then the second interview, and now have an offer to teach a Culture and Literature class on Nature Writing on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10-1145. It's an eight week course that repeats during the semester, so I would teach the same class twice in one semester. That means fewer classes to prep.

If all the kids were in school, I would be turning cartwheels. Teach a class on Nature Writing?! At a small, Christian, liberal arts school?! Yes,  please!! It's a literature-based class, not creative writing, so even though I'm not a specialist in the genre, I have had a special interest in the topic. At one time, I thought I would write a thesis on Wendell Berry and rural literature of the Midwest. I can already envision a reading list, probably starting with a chronological survey - beginning with Aristotle and Genesis, and then addressing Copernicus and Galileo, then jumping up to the Romantics then the Transcendentalists, followed by another jump up to the beginnings of the environmental movement represented by Rachel Carson and maybe Aldo Leopold, and then spending a good chunk of time on contemporary writers.  The challenge would be to keep the reading list to a minimum. And I would assign student presentations to take some of the prep work off of me.

The choice would be simpler if I hadn't just decided a couple months ago to homeschool the four-year-old. If she wanted to go to preschool and I had signed her up, all would be nice and easy. But I went through all that angst a while ago and chose to homeschool her at least another year or so and see how it goes.

Then I spent time with my cousin and her beautiful, happy, well-behaved, homeschooled children.  Other encounters with homeschoolers and the votes of my previously homeschooled children assured me that I should return to a home-based education for our four year old.  My cousin loaned me Sarah MacKenzie's Teaching from Rest, which I devoured in a couple hours. It made me see how essential an eternal perspective is and question my decision to send the other kids to school.

But I also had just finished One Beautiful Dream by Jennifer Fulwiler, which gave me the hope that my desire to work can be balanced with teaching children at home.  I like her perspective that mom's work can be a part of the family mission. She also has a long-term perspective after a revelation that she was living a life "ruled by the tyranny of the immediate." I think that limitation led me to put the kids in school. She has this insight after witnessing a Mexican family enjoying each other's company and getting a family photo after church.

Here is her quote about creative work that identifies some of why, even though teaching would complicate our lives, I have trouble turning down this opportunity: "Being part of the creation of new life was an experience of God. Yet I also felt something similar in my work. It astounded me whenever I considered that only the creatures made in the image of the Creator can create. Among all the animals on earth, humans alone have the gift of creativity -- and, as people had experienced through the millennia, to use this gift is to experience something of God.

"Now I wondered: What if all desires to create -- both with children and with work -- are, in fact, all pointed in the same direction? What if both are different but complementary ways of getting in touch with the ultimate Source of creativity? What if following your God-given passion is not just okay to do during the baby years, but actually something that has the potential to enhance your whole family's life?"

My children also think I should teach at the college. They don't see the conflict. Just find a babysitter. It's only six hours a week. (Plus prep and grading...) Easier said than done.

I have both selfish and idealistic attitudes about teaching at the college. I also have idealistic attitudes about homeschooling, but they are contrasted with very real concerns about the souls and attitudes of my two younger children, whom I sent to school earlier. Would these children be different if they had been homeschooled longer, or would our temperaments have been in conflict? The old nature/nurture question haunts me.

As a parent, I note my failures more than successes. Maybe those words are the wrong choices to use. I liked Mrs. Darwin's recounting of the unique individualities of her children a couple weeks ago. Our kids are all different and unique, and our situation with moving made life complicated for a few years. We know homeschool families whose children have dropped out of college and floundered a bit. My husband reminded me of Mother Angelica's quote that the past is past and we can't change it, so there is no use in regrets, but I still wonder if the decisions we have made have been for the better or worse. For example, we could have chosen the tiny, conservative Catholic school up in North County, but my husband would have an hour commute, and tuition was pricey. Should we have made that sacrifice? I wonder. But disrupting our situation now would cause resentment. The kids like their school, despite my reservations.

Perhaps I can somehow incorporate some of what is best about homeschooling into our home life? Reading aloud more at night? A "Finer Things" night once a month?  (Combining Sarah MacKenzie's suggestion of a family symposium on truth, goodness, and beauty with the humor of "The Office.")  

And I know my own faith life needs to be deepened. My relationship with Christ is often pushed to the side while I focus on a to-do list. Time for prayer and contemplation is rare. I lose track of the centrality of my relationship with Christ - and family - easily. Will finding a creative outlet keep me focused on what is important at home?

Some people have the gift of being able to clearly see what their role in life and responsibilities are.  They are strong in their faith and clear about what is right and wrong. They can make a decision and stick with it. They have principles that guide their decisions, and their actions are in conformity with their beliefs. They don't second-guess everything.  I think I used to be this kind of person. I had a pretty clear picture of what I wanted our family life to look like. I remember going to a retreat based on that book "A Mother's Rule of Life" and filling out worksheets on our family mission. I wish I could find that page now because I feel like I've lost my way a bit.  Dante's "Midway through life's journey I found myself in a dark wood because the straightforward path had been lost" keeps echoing in my mind. 

My husband suggests trying out teaching for a semester. I think he would be happy if I could be content to stay at home. I know it would be hard to start something and then stop. Every morning I wake up wrestling with what to do and every night I go to sleep wrestling with the same questions. I don't feel at peace when I imagine saying no to this opportunity, nor do I feel at rest when I imagine doing it. I'm giving myself one more week to consider the options. May the Lord give me clarity. 

Gale force winds

My in-laws in Oklahoma have been reporting from their storm shelter about the tornadoes striking around their home town.  This week has brought them heavy winds and rain. They are getting their money's worth from the storm shelter they had installed in their garage a few years ago.  Blessedly, they have had no damage so far.

Meanwhile, we've had storms of another kinds. I have felt buffeted about by the forces of nature and forces of fate - or whatever you call the vicissitudes of life within a large family preparing to move. In the midst of all the normal responsibilities, there have been school fundraisers, minor car accidents, multiple sporting events, college board testing, drama practice and performances, visitors - and a sacrament of confirmation! These events take place in the midst of the normal upkeep of the house and schoolwork - including my own two classes I'm teaching and a class I'm taking on how to teach online. And kids who get behavior points at school for talking and wrestling and teenagers who want to date and a preteen who wants to hang out with friends and check my social media because I won't let her have her own. And the pleading for playdates and media time and dessert. And Age of Ultron.

And a baby who walks, says "no" (!) (and "please" and makes praying hands...), and plays in the potty water and throws shoes in the trash and sticks fingers in my lipstick.

So lately I have to admit I bristle whenever I hear someone say, "Oh, sorry, I can't do that; I'm just too busy"?  "What!" I think, "I'll show you busy!"  I think I'm jealous when people say that. I want to use that phrase - no, I'm sorry -  too, but I have a problem with the saying no part. And I have vanity about wanting to appear to have everything at least in the semblance of being under control so that I don't give large families a bad name.  (Pride, vanity, ADD?).  So I add to the calendar, and try not to think too far ahead.

My new phrase to say periodically to myself is "Relax the face!" when I'm squinting too much.

Part of the squinting comes from the torment I put upon myself through my own indecisiveness.  I hate to say no to possibility A, B, or C.  How long can I lead on this school or that landlord? And I'm inefficient at researching rental houses, schools, and homework because I keep looking for the best possible thing. It must be out there on the internet somewhere if I just keep looking!

And so my other little prayer is "All will be well, all will be well." One step in front of the other. One day at a time. All things are possible... And the line from that song: "Every knock is a boost, every stumbling block is a stepping stone, if you knock your head, hold it on, just keep holding on" -- All those little aspirations that help me remember that now is only a brief moment and at the end of now is a glorious forever. I know that during this time of emptying, letting go, giving away, detaching, I need to refill occasionally by adding one more thing to the list - go to Mass. Read that gospel reflection. Pray.

Happily, I have begun to make decisions!  or at least to have decisions made for me.  Last week, the landlord announced he is going on vacation when we wanted to move out. This news at first made me want to squinch my face and cry. But it is no crisis, just an inconvenience. So we have decided to move out later than we wanted, after our lease is up,instead of earlier than we wanted.  At one point in life, I would have based this decision on how to save the most money. That's still motivation for me, but I also want to maximize the kids' happiness and my own sanity. So instead of rushing to move out before our summer vacation, we are going to stay put until the end of the summer so the kids can work and play, and we don't have to cram a pack-out in between all the end of the school year festivities. This plan also buys us time to shop for a house. Husband will have to report to work sooner, but he can shop for a house for us so we can do a door to door move and avoid living in a hotel room (and it is cheaper to pay for a whole month of rent, than two weeks of a hotel for us.)

The school decision is still looming - the expensive private school came back with less financial aid than we thought we could afford, so we crossed it off the list. Now we have to decide between the cheaper Catholic school, which is very, very small and very far - an hour commute for my husband (or a split commute for both of us), or public school.  Next week we are going to do another visit with the kids to try to discern what to do. The small Catholic school is very traditional and probably would be an easy transition, but it only has about 20 kids in each high school class. No music, few sports, few arts opportunities. Advanced classes offered online.  So I'm not sure it is worth the money and the stress of driving.  But the public school option makes me sad.  I love having the kids someplace where they go to Mass once a week and celebrate feast days. We may split the difference and send the younger kids to parochial school (of which there are many choices) and send the olders to public high school (also many "fine" choices).

Still holding on to a thread of hope that a house within our budget on Coronado will materialize.  That would make our decision so much easier.  Husband could bike to work. Little kids could go to parochial school which offers half tuition for military. And older kids could go to the smaller public high school. Of course, that high school is not without its issues either. Kids with money, kids without money, kids with some money. They all seem to get into the same amounts of trouble. And to find the same amounts of success.

Having a glut of choices is more difficult to me than having only a few. San Diego is so big. And everyone we've talked to seems to love where they are, whether they are on the island, in the southwest area, in North County or near the ocean.  Apparently we can't go wrong.  I'm trying to trust that there is no perfect place, and that the good enough place will show up.  I'm trying not to get upset with Southern California for being so darn expensive.

All will be well, all will be well, all manner of things shall be well -- Julian of Norwich?

Just keep going on - Eric Bibb

Briefly noted

I've had multiple moments lately where I think, "I should write a note about that on the blog," but when I have a moment to write, I forget about it or the issue is no longer interesting to me. So here I am with a moment to myself because something was cancelled, so I have some time for notes to self:

When next summer rolls around, I need to prod our second son who is a junior into thinking about his future. We are in the throes of the college application process with our oldest, who has been laboring over his essays for an early decision application to his number one school choice. He just turned them in with the deadline only a couple days away.  Writing is painful for him. And it was painful to me to try to help him.  First, he didn't want any help.  And secondly, I didn't really know what the admissions counselors want.  The prompts are ambiguous.  I have been trying to engage the teen-aged boy in conversation about them, but I'm his mom. He doesn't want to talk to me.  And the essays shouldn't sound like they weren't written by a 41 year old woman, but by a 17 year old boy.

Even more agonizing to me than trying to get him to write and revise is the fear that his heart will be broken.  This school is not just his first choice; right now it is his only love. He hasn't really even looked anywhere else.  He's a smart kid, a hard worker, active in extra-curriculars, a little weak in the creative writing area, but otherwise well-rounded.  He'll do well no matter where he goes.  He's earned an ROTC scholarship, which is not necessarily my first choice of ways to pay for school, but it opens doors that fiscally would be locked for us.  So I'm in knots hoping he'll be accepted and we can be done with college applications for a year.  And I want really badly to rewrite his essays for him...

***
Note on future career: Over the past months of prepping for college applications, I have learned about the field of educational consulting.  People are getting paid to tell teenagers where to apply, what they need to do to apply, what they need to do to get financial aid, proofreading essays, and suggesting ways to make themselves interesting.  And the pay is good, as in $150/hour good.  It would be a pretty fun job.  By the time I get about half of my kids into college, I'll be an expert.

***
On teaching - Back in the groove! After some speed bumps at the beginning of the school year, things are buzzing along (busier than "humming" but not "roaring") and we're in a routine of a schedule that is busy, busy, but not overwhelming.  My one night a week gig is rolling along, and I finally feel like I've got a handle on the rapport in the classroom.  I really like teaching older students. They want to learn, they want to talk about ideas, they see connections. They may not have very good grammar skills, but they participate in earnest. I should be grading papers right now, but I was inspired by Bearing's apology for blogging as a combination of classic diaries, letters and philosophical treatises to record a few thoughts.

I was again offered another class at a different school that would require getting a babysitter, although it would pay better than this evening job when the kids are with Dad.  I would be in a more traditional campus setting  and have colleagues to share ideas with, whereas now I'm at a little regional outpost.  I considered it. Planning wouldn't be as laborious after teaching this past semester, and only the baby would be left with a sitter, so my husband wouldn't have to take on as much in the evening. But the classes are bigger, the term is longer, and I'd have to recreate my syllabus and all the internet links and posts on their server. I'm going to stick with the smaller commitment.

I'm always wrestling with the conflict to find balance between doing something I really enjoy and keeping up with the responsibilities of home life.  I have always felt pulled between having one foot in the world and one foot in the home.  I found a prayer card for St. Gianna Molla my mom had given me when I found out I was pregnant this last time and took some comfort in the idea that she was a good mother and a professional and a saint.  I am hardly a professional, and my kids would debate my status as good mother, and I'm leagues away from sainthood, but she is a role model for integrating different roles.

***
My mom's group at church is reading a Kimberly Hahn book for book study called Cherished and Chosen.  It is not very exciting.  I have a hard time reading it because nothing in it is new nor gracefully put.  It does make me think I should have a planner though. I love the idea of planners.  I just forget to use them.

***
And Hahn's book is good for reminding me to stay focused on priorities.  I had a conversation with my sister the other day about relationships that are distractions.  They take time and energy away from the people we need to be caring for because they are usually more interesting than dishes and laundry. (read: Facebook and the Internet) Housework has been suffering anyway because of my coursework and having a baby who likes to be held.  My prayer life has also withered, except for all my pleas of intercession.  We have so many sick friends and friends with suffering marriages.  We also have a lot of pregnant friends.  Life and death. Cross and resurrection.

***
The recent articles in favor of the right to die overlook the redemptive value of suffering.   But to see value in suffering requires a belief in redemption, I suppose. I worry about the world my kids will inherit that is so full of the gospel of feeling good. People are so afraid of pain.  I am, too.  But my mom once told me, in a conversation about giving birth, to focus on the idea that labor is productive pain. Something good will come out of it, like a jolly, fat baby.

A little Seabee with rabbit ears

***
In addition to the mom's group book study, we've been going to the marriage group book study once a month.  Again the reading isn't anything new, but it provides a moment to revisit some of those ideas that inspire us to plow through the grunt work of marriage: the schedules, the chores, the finances are all secondary to the work of two souls teaching each other how to love. Keeping the house clean and everyone fed and clothed is easier when it's an act of love and not a duty.  Life requires undergoing a little pain for the good of others.

***
We had 25 cross country runners over to dinner last week, and I had to do a thorough scouring in preparation. Of course, the house is a mess again, but for a minute it felt clean. And because the crowd was a bunch of kids I like, cooking 8 boxes of pasta and 5 gallons of sauce wasn't a chore.  Making 100 meatballs might not have been my husband's favorite way to spend an evening but he didn't complain.  We thought we might have leftovers, but those skinny runner kids can put away the carbs. And they entertained us in return.

***
I've decided it's harder to keep small houses clean as opposed to big houses. Or maybe there is a golden mean. But clutter control is a constant battle in this little house.  Just a few things out of place makes it seem out of order, whereas in a bigger kitchen no one would notice a few extra dishes on the counter.  And surfaces get touched more when there aren't a lot of surfaces to touch.  Time for a garage sale this weekend! Although we gave away a truckload of stuff after our move from Guam, we've been amazed at how much clutter collects in a year.  Trying to practice detachment...

***
Other than reading the Hahn book, I haven't done a lot of reading. I really enjoyed a book I got for the boys by Peter Kreeft about surfing and faith: I Surf, Therefore I am. And I read a book my daughter recommended called Found Things.  I've read through a lot of essays for my class, but I haven't read an adult novel in months. Checked out a Haruki Murakami book from the library but can't get into it.

***
Excitement on the cross country course: a live wild tarantula! This is almost as exciting as the bear we saw in Yosemite.

Don't let it get the baby!

The cross country and football and soccer and volleyball seasons are winding down.  Fall sports have kept us running. But after the initial pain early in the season getting used to the schedule, it's been nice to have a routine and the events themselves are fun entertainment.  But holidays are around the corner...
***
Now I've got to run: my to-do list awaits: need to make finishing touches on costumes, make some calls for a silent auction at the military base, dishes, laundry, get ready for the garage sale, and grade papers. I need another 24 hours in a day.

Knowing what I want

Last night, children, husband, and I converged at the house about 7:15 pm from different practices and events. We were all hot, tired, and hungry.  My husband grumbled because I didn't order pizza, even though I thought about it. I grouched back because I had been listening to a screaming baby for the last half hour and couldn't make a phone call in the car.

Then he pulled lobster out of the refrigerator.

Ah, fresh lobster for dinner! Elegant, refined, succulent and delicious! I'm supposed to be thrilled.

But all I saw was a fishy mess ready to be made, complaints from the kids ready to be heard, and my own hunger unsatisfied.

I wanted a nice soft-boiled egg on toast, not lobster.

But then another kid called because he couldn't get a ride home, and I volunteered to go get him. I'd make my egg when I got home.

On the way to the pick-up, I applauded myself for 1. Walking away from a ticking time bomb of an argument.  2. Knowing what I want.

Being decisive is a victory for me.  I am now mature enough to admit that I don't really like shellfish.  It's chewy and unsatisfying.  I do like shrimp, and I have had scallops perfectly prepared once.  But although I love a good piece of salmon or trout, I do not prefer crustaceans and shellfood.  Perhaps it is a cultivated taste that I haven't indulged in enough, but I like to think I have given shellfish a try over and over, on the East Coast, on the West Coast, in the midwest, in Europe, in Japan, and on Guam.  And I am still halfhearted about it.

I'd rather have a tasty, filling egg over lobster caught the night before by my resourceful, lobster-trap-loving brother-in-law.

But when I got home, the lobster was cooked with some fusilli in olive oil and rosemary, so I lined up behind the kids with my plate and was served my portion, joined them at the back patio table illuminated by the full moon and ate it. And it was good. A little chewy, yes, but the rosemary cut the fishiness. My husband, his good spirits and blood sugar restored with protein and pasta and a pumpkin ale, delighted in the compliments from the kids.  I didn't withhold my thanks and admiration, although I didn't pitch in on the clean-up. (The baby!)

So now I add a third lesson: 3.Let the person most concerned decide.  And 4. Eat what you are given. And 5. Give thanks for a husband who likes to cook, and kids who can do the dishes.

Meanwhile, my decision making faculties remained moderately impaired.  An article in the WSJ last week perfectly described my husband and me - he the satisficer, me the maximizer.  He can make a decision on the fly, without regrets or thinking twice.  I usually have to investigate all the options, compare prices from several providers, look into alternative solutions, etc.  Together we balance each other out.  We have some big decisions looming that are tougher than what's for dinner, but if the past 18 years are any indication, we'll make them eventually and all will be well.  Sometimes at the end of the day, our hard edges are exposed and our faculty for understanding is weakened by hunger and exhaustion, but a good meal and a moment on the back patio with a bright night sky and a full stomach (and sometimes full glasses) does a great deal to restore that balance.

Season of preparation vs.stasis

The third Advent candle was lit last night, our first night at home in several days. At times I enjoy a frenetic pace - it makes me feel purposeful and at ease with what I have to do NOW. When schedules and outside obligations present a ready-made priority list, I don't have to agonize over choices. This weekend was packed with Christmas parties, and we also supported the kids' participation in a couple of service projects (at both of which the number of volunteers nearly outnumbered the number of people being served.) Of course, being busy eventually becomes tiresome and a day at home is wonderful, even if it is spent doing laundry and cleaning desks. The earlier setting of the sun has us all content to stay home in the evening.

But last night, since we had no where to go, I spent several hours trying to shop online.  Christmas is nearing, and our gifts haven't been purchased. Driving by the mall on the way home from church I was horrified to see people directing traffic, so I was determined to do all my shopping on the internet. Only I can't decide on anything! Too many options. Too hard to tell what something looks or feels like. So I bought nothing.

Similarly, I find myself wasting away hours in the daytime when I don't know what I should be working on first. While I am doing a little more substitute teaching, I was disappointed to hear that the community college isn't interested in hiring me for the spring semester either. As the remaining weeks of this pregnancy are slipping away, I keep trying to decide how to spend the hours of the day when the kids are in school.  I thought I might write more, but instead I waste time reading words that fill the hours but don't fill my head or heart. (Although this article  in the Guardian by pianist James Rhodes cuts deep.) I've been debating whether or not to pursue secondary school certification. I like teaching, I like being with students, I've always been interested in education, I like having something to direct my energy towards. But figuring out the details - What to do with the baby? How to manage the kids' schedules? Should I pay for my own education when paying for the kids should be a priority? - is preventing me from making any decisions. The root of the problem is a lack of passion. Do I want to do this enough to deal with the inconveniences and to inconvenience my family? Unable to commit, I remain in a state of stasis, waiting for a sign. And nothing has surfaced.  

So I'll put off decision making another day by reliving some happy moments of recent memory: a visit from my parents. We toured Santa Barbara again, ate really delicious meals, attended a Christmas concert, hiked in Ojai, and spent a little time at the beach while the rest of the country was dealing with snow and ice.

Revisiting Mission Santa Barbara with my parents: the cemetary

A large Australian Moreton Bay Fig tree at the mission

Two Claires.

Jesus and Mary Magdalene

Impressed by the size of the blue whale at the Natural History Museum.

Learning about local fowl and fair trade gifts at the Museum.

Another natural history lesson: Hiking Cozy Dell Canyon

SoCal had a little cold streak this weekend too - in the 50's, brrrr!

King of the mountain

Still learning at home.

Tempting orchids at the farmer's market