5 things I've learned going back to work

It felt like a really long, never-ending winter. And the average winter temp around here was 82 degrees, so that tells you a little something about my frame of mind lately. But it's Spring, and that means the end of the school year's approaching. 27 more school days left, but who's counting?

The transition from stay-at-home mommy to full time interpreter this year was a bumpy one. I wouldn't say I mastered the art of "having it all" like I was promised in my college Women's History class. But I did learn a few things about myself along the way. I'm older. Wiser. Some would say more attractive now that I've traded in yoga pants for slacks. They would be wrong entirely, but here's what I've noticed about myself during this past year in 7th grade.

 

I’m a hypocrite:

If you have a teenager, I want you to drag them into the bathroom and wash their mouth out with soap. They cuss like you wouldn’t believe. All of them. There’s nothing like having a 13 year old yell  “Mother F***ing Nig***!” two feet away from you. When this happens, I feel a self righteous anger boil up inside of me (and isn’t that the best kind of anger?), and I drag their butt up to the office. I’ve become almost infamous for it. Apparently my prepubescent chest size and adult acne has made it easy for me to blend in with the preteens because they don’t see me coming. I'm stealthy, like Holly Robinson Pete in “21 Jump Street,” working alongside Johnny Depp to bust up a ring of Jr. High car thieves.

Today’s little gem was a girl screaming, “Maria, you stupid bi***, you’re Fuc**** crazy!” I lectured her the whole way up to the assistant principal's office, preaching that intelligent people like her should choose better ways to express themselves. Then I walked back to class muttering, “Effing stupid ass job. Son of a bitch!” because I’m a hypocrite like that.

Insomniacs shouldn't have to be anywhere before 8:00 am:

I am a hot mess most mornings. My inability to sleep through the night without waking up to an anxiety attack lately has made it so I show up daily looking my trademark exhausted. Luckily, messy buns are in! If only dark circles and crow's feet would make a comeback. 
 

I can fake it 'til I make it:

I think I threw a silent tantrum for the first few months of school until I wore myself out, like the true adult-child I am. But I've been reminded how incredibly adaptable I become in uncomfortable situations. I have a knack for it. At work I suffer from a sort of Stockholm Syndrome, where I make friends with my captors from 7:45-2:10. The alternative is to be miserable and pouty, and let's face it, teenagers are miserable and pouty people and there needs to be a yin to their yang.

I started a Sign Language club. I've become friends with teachers I like, and teachers I'd like to give a CAT Scan to because dear goodness.

I've put myself out there, reluctantly, and been thankful that I did. Sometimes you have to fake it 'til you make it, I guess. I take the same approach at work that I did in high school. If I HAVE to be there, then I might as well make the best of it.

 

My friends are amazing:

I already knew the gang of women I run with were pretty incredible, but I was afraid I'd fall off the radar going back to work full time. They take time out of their day to eat lunch with me on occasion and I love them for it. Even if it's a 20 minute chat over a salad at Subway, it makes all the difference in my day.

 

I miss Dora:

I miss my kids. And Dora the Explorer. But mostly my kids. And I miss making play-doh and going to the park. I miss the days that felt SO incredibly difficult and draining, but were actually the absolute best times of my life so far. I miss hearing Noggin on the TV, and taking the girls to the library to kill time during the day. I miss it all. And when I see those stay at home mommies still in the midst of being home with their little kids, I want to grab them and give them the greatest advice they'll ever ignore. Enjoy it, because it goes by in the blink of an eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

I hate running

Every year for the last six years I've sat down to write a summary of my experience at the Merrell Mud Run. I always try to put some sort of philosophical spin on it. It used to be that I ran to prove I was stronger than I felt during those toddler/baby raising years. This year, I signed up because it was tradition and I didn't have anything better to do that weekend. That's where I went wrong. That, and inviting my kids.

Now I always try to paint my children in a positive light, and most of the time it's easy. But if I'm "keeping it real," as the kids say, then I should let it be known that they were kind of a pain in the ass. I invited them into my happy place when I should have left them at home. I knew this immediately when we got there and they noticed it wasn't as kid friendly as it was last year.

"There's no hamster wheel!"

"There's no rock wall."

"The playground's crowded!"

That's when I left them with my mom and headed over to the starting line. She deserves a medal for hanging out with them all day.

I ran like I always do, and maybe even a little faster since walking gave way to sounds of rattlesnakes in the bushes beside the trail. And instead of finding some sort of runner's high where my mind could zone out in a bliss of tranquility, my brain decided to fire off a million thoughts that I really didn't feel like thinking about. My head became even more annoying than my children and all I could do was keep moving. I scaled walls, crawled through tunnels, and jumped in puddles, all while really missing my old running pals that have joined me in years past and made something I hate (running) fun.

So that's that. Nothing to wax philosophical about. I hate running. I'm not even that fond of mud. And I think the novelty of running a race wore off and I may find myself back in a dance class before I find myself in a mud pool again. It served its purpose and I proved to myself that I could do it.  It's time to move right along to the next challenge. Synchronized swimming? Underwater basket weaving? I don't know. But whatever it is, I'm not inviting my kids.

More whining. "I'm DIRTY!!"

Spring break "Late Over" with her bff.

Corinne got tubes in her ears. She was so scared when we went into the prep room that it broke my heart. She had one single tear run down her cheek in the most sincere sadness I've ever seen her display. Thankfully the nurse gave her a "cocktail" immediately and she was flying high after that. I love her so much and hope we never set foot in a hospital again for a very long time.

More spring break fun

Corinne made me breakfast. Love her.

Spring break with my nephew

How much do I love this picture?

Corinne loves a selfie. I find hundreds on my phone.

Newsies with Jenn

Friends of the friendless

I think if I had a day to myself at home (PAH!), I'd spend it on the couch watching a mix of Twilight Zone and I Love Lucy. One of my favorite episodes of Lucy is "The Friends Of The Friendless." When she's lonely, cast out and forgotten, a group of misfits befriend her in the park.

Lucy and I have so much in common. It's a little egocentric of me to identify with an icon like Lucy as much as I do, but I tend to be on the passionate, some would say irrational, side of the emotional spectrum. And I too get the hiccups when I cry. So there. We're totally twinsies.

I've been talking to the girls a lot lately about friendship and what it means to be a good friend, and how important friends are. Both girls have made some solid friends, and we've branched out into play dates and meeting parents in this new neighborhood we moved to a year ago. (Yes, it took us a year.) And for those friends and their wonderful parents, I'm so very grateful. We've also had a few situations at school where "so and so just decided they don't want to play with me anymore." Luckily, my girls have taken my advice and played with the kids who DO want to play with them, and didn't dwell on the hurt of being rejected. Hopefully this will always be the case, but I know it only gets harder as you get older to simply move on from people you invest in after they decide you're disposable. I'm sure I'll have to keep reiterating to them throughout their entire youth that what others think of them isn't as important as how they see themselves. Actually, I'll probably have to reiterate that to them their entire lives if they're anything like me.

Today a teacher I work with, Mr. Ippilitto,  paid me such a huge compliment and built me up so much in front of a class of teenagers who actually agreed with him, that I had to blink back tears. Because for a few weeks I've felt a little like Lucy on that bench for one reason or another. I'm sure he had no idea just how much his words meant and how desperately I needed to hear them. I felt like he was the guy in I Love Lucy with the big drum, and his history class was the group of outcasts. I left work today feeling so much lighter than I have in a while.

And unrelated, Corinne is a hussy.

I know, I know. This is in no way related to the above story of friendship. But it's a story worth telling and I'm too lazy to blog about it in another post.

So I volunteer to go on Corinne's field trip to Underwood Farms. I get there and find girls were literally fighting to sit next to her on the bus. I have no idea where she gets her social skills and charm from, but it sure as hell isn't me. But I digress.

A mom walks up to me and says, "Hi, I'm Jamison's mom." I just sort of look at her, because I have no idea who her son is and haven't really heard Corinne talking about him. Then she says, "You know? Corinne's boyfriend, Jamison."

Uh, no. I had no idea my 6 year old had a boyfriend, thank you very much! Apparently he asked her to be his girlfriend a few weeks ago and they've been going strong ever since. I casually threw his name out on the way home to see how she reacted and she looked completely guilty. What in the world!!!??? If this is some sort of awful foreshadowing of things to come, we are in trouble!

(PS, do NOT mention this to Corinne, as she will turn beet red and blow her top!)

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At open house we looked at the "Kindness and Compliment" chart in Taylor's classroom. The kids are encouraged to leave positive notes about each other, and I think it's one of the most genius ideas I've ever seen in a class. Taylor's friend said that she is, "always nice to me outside or in." Another proud mommy moment.

We picked a butt load of vegetables on her field trip.





Opening day at Menchie's with her friends.