Elizabeth and The Animals

Elizabeth was practicing piano this morning. I noticed she started on a new song this week, and I said to Brian, "That song she's playing sounds like House of the Rising Sun." He agreed. Normally, I'd go in there and look at the music for myself, but since I'm sick (and such a baby about it) I waited for her to finish practicing. When she came past the couch I was lying on, I asked her what song that was. She said, "House of the Rising Sun."

Huh. We both nailed it.

Full Blown Cold

Ugh. I've been fighting a cough all week, and it's now official. I am sick. I've been surprisingly healthy considering the variety of germs I'm exposed to, but even if you wash your hands a lot, never touch your face, and keep your distance from little germ factories that are otherwise known as elementary school students, one might come up to you and cough in your face. Thanks for that, kid.

So here I am. I'm grateful to have the weekend to rest. I was a libraian on Wednesday, and the read alouds made me start to lose my voice. I was off Thursday because of a dentist appointment. I didn't really want to work yesterday, but it was a high-volume sub day (Super Bowl? Phoenix Open?) so I had two half-day assignments at two different schools. Both sites asked me to fill in for the full day but, you know, there's only so much Sara can do. I like to please so I'm glad I could help for at least a little bit.

Today, it's Kleenex and liquids and rest. Monday will be here before I know it so I need to concentrate on getting well.

Reinventing Sara, Daily

Before school yesterday, I dropped off my kids and picked up something in the office. A few of Elizabeth's teachers were in there and asked me who I was subbing for today. I briefly explained I was headed to a library assignment at another school and pointed out, "That's why I'm wearing my librarian glasses." We all laughed, and I thought about my follow-up comment that, "It's like I get to wear a costume every day."

It's true. No other job (well, save acting) allows you to reinvent yourself on a daily basis. One day I'm a second grade teacher, the next a computer teacher, then a sixth grade teacher, and the next day I might be  teaching P.E. A completely different skill set is required to deal with first graders than sixth graders. I'm learning, but instinct is pretty strong, too. It all certainly keeps me on my toes.

I do admit the wardrobe is fun, though. When I teach P.E., the dress code is comfortable, but in sixth grade I better not wear anything they'll laugh at. If I wear a shiny necklace or curl my hair, little ones tell me I'm gorgeous or beautiful; it doesn't take much to impress a seven year old. I enjoy getting into the classrooms and trying to teach, but it's almost just as fun trying to look the part.

Darn You, Ed Sheeran

You got to me.

My friend Jennifer never understood how this guy had a cult following, and when she told me that I said, "He has a cult following?!" He does. People really love this guy.

He seems like a talented bloke, but go ahead and call me shallow for never being able to get past this:

Despite the facial hair, he looks like a goofy kid I might have babysat twenty years ago rather than one of today's rock stars, no? His songs never really did it for me either, but to be fair I knew only the ones on the radio. Then he paired up for a duet with Taylor Swift and, since she's apparently my Oprah, he was all right.

Last year, it suddenly appeared he was trying to sound like Justin Timberlake in "Sing!." Then "Don't" came out, and I hate that song. Hate it. It's like he's ruining a Jason Mraz song with horrible lyrics. Then his newest single was released, and even though it sounds a little too Michael Buble, I like it.



Darn you, Ed Sheeran. Whatever your real sound is!

Rain, Rain, Go Away

It's a Pittsburgh kind of day in Phoenix.

You'd think I'd like to be reminded of home, but I loathe days like this. I saw way too many gray skies and rain growing up, and I've come to love the sunshine. Days like these bring me down.

When he visits, my dad makes us laugh when he wakes up every day and proclaims, "It's another sunny day in Phoenix!" Usually. But not always. And certainly not today. I feel like going back to bed. :)

Blank Spaces

Ugh. My stress-free job is becoming stressful.

I've just about gotten used to working nearly every day. However, I'm much more savvy with my choices. I want to fill as many blank spaces on my calendar as possible, and what I've found is that it's best to schedule some easier days every so often in order to stay fresh. That means picking up a half day or a specialist assignment after a few busy days in primary or difficult days in intermediate. Subs obviously aren't and can't be as invested as real teachers, so jobs that offer a fresh start every thirty minutes as opposed to spending an entire day with the same twenty-five kids can be appealing.  I've also been appreciating the convenience of subbing at my own kids' school. I certainly didn't go into this intending to sub there a lot, but it's been working out that way lately.

Keeping the balance of sanity, convenience, and an almost full schedule can be tough, though. I do want to work a lot, but I'm so over taking just anything. Lately I've been declining jobs that aren't singing to me much in the hopes that something better will come along. I've been lucky, and my schedule has been pretty packed.

On a whim two weeks ago, I accepted a job for today at a school that's new to me. I was feeling brave and recognized the need to keep pushing through my comfort zone. Except yesterday afternoon a teacher at our school asked if I was available. I truly wasn't, but her offer was supremely better. Plus, she's my friend. So I canceled the other job, and she put in hers. I felt a little slimy, but I figured today I would be better as a computer teacher, and someone familiar with that other school will probably take over for me there. Things always work out.

However, as the kids and I were leaving the house this morning, our school office called and said a fourth grade teacher just called out. Would I take that job instead of being in the computer lab? "You don't have to. You can say no." So I said no. It was fifteen minutes before school started. I felt extremely unprepared and totally not up for it, so I was honest with her and kind to myself. But I felt bad about it all day.

Because isn't it my job to be flexible? I believe it is. But in my defense, I'm not the kind of sub who wakes up at 4:30 to troll online for last-minute assignments. Most of my weeks are planned out in advance because that's how I operate best. I even like to study the math lessons the night before! Going in there with ten minutes to look over everything would have killed me. I know I would have been in panic mode and completely unable to focus, and the person they did find to sub likely did a better job on the fly. I think I made the right call (At least about this. Canceling the other job and taking this one wasn't right, so this feeling is probably my punishment.), but I still feel like whatever the opposite of a team player is. And I wouldn't feel like this if it had happened at any other school.

Well it's over. Now I need to get over it. As far as I know it all really did work out. I had a good day in the computer lab, and the teacher's aide who subbed in fourth was happy to get sub pay. As for the other school, I have no idea how it went and also no plans to sub there. Ever.

My priorities are in balance. Ten minutes ago I turned down an offer for tomorrow morning. I'm signed up to go on an orchestra field trip with Elizabeth. I'd never cancel on my daughter.

Super Underwhelmed

It's Super Bowl week. I live in suburban Phoenix and that is apparently all that's going on. Oh except for this big golf tournament, too. Celebrities of all sorts are supposed to descend from the heavens upon our town any moment now. I'm not so jaded that I can't recognize the hefty economic impact this will have on the area and I know it's fun and exciting for a lot of people, but when sports are the focus I'm just not into it. It's not that I hate football. I just don't know anything about it and, therefore, don't care about it at all.

While we're on the subject, I really wish that the NFL players would stop talking about their balls. Geez oh man. Can they not hear themselves? They're making it so easy for the late-night hosts to ridicule them. Can they not see themselves either? They need to take off those stupid 1970s tossle caps because they look like overgrown eight-year-olds with beards. It's hard to take that seriously, man.

Lastly, though I don't follow the football news, from what I've been unable to keep from passing into my ears over the last week, the Patriots sound like a bunch of well-known cheaters and the Seahawks seem like a bunch of thugs. Who are we to root for?

The guacamole. That's all I'm there for on Super Bowl Sunday.

Que Sera, Sera

It's Saturday, and Elizabeth is taking a four-hour exam.

We woke up early for a 7:35 am check-in at the junior high school we are considering for her next year. There is a math and reading assessment/placement test that all applicants must take. At orientation nights and on tours, the administration is quick to let us know that the test is not an entrance exam--its only purpose is to place students in the correct classes based on their ability. There's probably some truth to that, but if that was absolutely the only reason for the test then wouldn't they test only the kids who are accepted? Interviews are in two weeks, and acceptance letters go out in late February. Hmmm.

This was her second time at this school in a week. Elizabeth spent her Tuesday there, as she shadowed a student and went to all her classes and lunch with her. Our request was honored and Elizabeth was paired up with her current teacher's daughter, so that was fun for both of them. All day long I was thinking of them, wondering what they were doing and how she was enjoying it, and I was excited to hear how her day went. When I picked her up she smiled a huge smile and simply said, "It was really cool, Mom." So, we showed up for the test today.

When we arrived to a huge traffic jam in the parking lot and a rather long line at the registration tables, I was both shocked and a little concerned. Without thinking I said, "Wow. I wasn't expecting this many people to be here." Elizabeth casually replied, "Well it's for both campuses," and before I freaked her out and made her worry I quickly said, "Oh ya. You're right. What was I thinking?" I was thinking that there would be maybe a hundred kids there, not 500. I don't know how many spots there are to fill or how many kids are competing for them. If she doesn't make the cut though, well then I suppose that's one less thing we have to decide.

Earlier this week we went to the orientation at our "home" junior high. That's the school whose boundaries our house falls in. It's about three times as large as this other junior high, and there's a lot more diversity in both race and socioeconomic ways. I'm not at all bothered by those. In fact, I like that kind of diversity and that's why I send my kids to their elementary school. The junior high principal seems like a stand up guy, and I bet the teachers are great, too. What concerns me is the work ethic and ideals of the kids that would be in Elizabeth's classes for the next two years. I'm not impressed with a lot of the behaviors in Elizabeth's current mix of classmates as they've gotten older, and while subbing I've seen firsthand how some of the kids in the other feeder schools act. I think she would do better being away from that, and I truly feel she would have more friends at a school with other kids who work as hard as she does and go to school every day to learn. I know much of that starts at home, and the fact that so many of the parents at that orientation were talking among themselves during the presentation showed me exactly why their kids act the way they do while they are in school. Parents are a child's first and most important teachers, after all.

On the other hand, this college prep school could turn out to be snobby. I overheard a boy this morning say something to his father about practically his entire class being there for the test today. His dad replied,"Well that tells me that a lot of parents are unhappy about the school" (that he would attend, I presume). That sounded like a heck of a thing to say to your child. He may as well follow that up with, "Because you are all too good for that place!" So what's better? Parents who don't give a damn about their kids or parents who instill in them an inappropriate sense of entitlement? Is there a happy medium anywhere?

Whatever happens, Elizabeth went into her testing room today ready and calm after a good night's sleep and a decent breakfast. I know she will do her best. She always does. Whatever will be will be.

Friday PE

I just picked up a PE assignment for tomorrow at one of my favorite schools. The teacher thoughtfully attached the sub plans to the assignment so I know what to expect. Well almost. 

I have eight 30-minute classes of fifth, sixth, fourth, first, and kindergarten, but the only plans are "free choice day from the cart." Can't wait to take a look at what's on this cart first thing tomorrow morning!

Not My Forte

I'm a fairly intelligent person. I worked hard and got good grades in school. However, I've never enjoyed math, which is a bit odd considering my father was a high school math teacher. He'd try to help me, I couldn't understand it, I'd cry, and he'd get frustrated. Homework was always a blast. A blast!

I was reminded of those fun times tonight as I was going over the sixth grade math lesson I'm to teach tomorrow. It's such a blessing I can get a copy of these lessons the day before from the teachers at my own kids' school, and I don't even care if it makes me look like a high maintenance sub. I'm self-aware, so I know I'm better when I'm prepared. It's also a given I'm not going to get it completely right, so it's best I do whatever I can to get as much of it right as possible.

So this evening I buckled down and relearned how to add mixed numbers. It's figured a different way than we learned thirty years ago, and I was having a hard time wrapping my head around the new method. I had to go to a quiet place to focus, concentrate, and finally get it. Hopefully, I'm smarter than a sixth grader now. At least at adding mixed numbers.

Math's just not my bag, Baby!

A Favor

If you would be so kind, I have a favor to ask.

Though I don't obsessively check who visits this site daily, I recently went through the log and found two frequent IP addresses that I don't recognize. I can count on two hands how many people I believe know about this daily diary, so I'm curious who the following IP addresses belong to:

98.165.72
72.201.134

If you to go Google or Bing and type in "what is my IP address," your IP address will be shown. If those are your first three groups of numbers, please let me know. I look forward to hearing from you because you obviously hear a lot from me. Um, maybe too much. The only clues I have to go on is that you're in Chandler, have Cox as your provider, and you read this on your iPad...maybe in the dining room or the conservatory.

Thank you in advance.

Take a Hike

It was a hiking weekend! Saturday morning, my friends and I met before sunrise and hiked the Wind Cave Trail in Usery. That's a really pretty hike and one to do early before the crowds arrive. It was a beautiful morning out there. Afterwards, we tried out another good breakfast place. Of course we did! The Sunnyside Breakfast Lounge is the perfect spot for a hearty meal right after a workout at Usery. We recommend.

Yesterday, the kids and I set off for Lost Dutchman State Park. We did the Treasure Loop, Prospector's View, and Jacob's Crosscut trails. It was a good way to see most of the park. It was another perfect morning, and it was surprising how green it was there. Well, this is about as green as Arizona gets.

We were trying to beat the sun coming over top the mountain.

It looks like he's pointing to Elizabeth, but he's really trying to show the caves.

nothin' but desert

"I'm tired. I'm hungry." Nevermind that he ate a huge bowl of oatmeal less than an hour before this photo was taken.

This is what happens when you tell him not to smile.

requisite "show us how much you love each other" photo

approaching the "praying hands"

pretending to rock climb

view from Prospector's Point

It was literally all downhill on the way back. Nice stroll through the desert.

We're looking forward to some visitors this spring. Maybe you'll want to join us on some hikes? :)

Mild: Lost to Found on the Marathon Trail

Or maybe it was the Wind Cave Trail. Or maybe it was walking along all the trails life has taken me on. It's hard to say where I was found, but the important thing to note is that I was found. And truth be told, I wasn't even all that lost.

It seemed as though everyone was talking about Cheryl Strayed's book a few years ago, and now with the release of the movie Wild starring Reese Witherspoon, they're talking about it all over again. The story has had a lot of success due in large part to the fact that so many people can relate. Well, maybe not exactly relate, but everyone goes through emotional peaks and valleys. We all have highs, and we all experience lows. It's just how it is and always will be. But sometimes you find yourself so low and confused that you wonder if you'll ever get out of it. If it's never happened to you, consider yourself fortunate. Or consider yourself warned. When you're there, you know it. You feel a bit shattered and maybe a little hopeless, and then if you're lucky you hit a point when you realize that you have to do something and that something has to be big. For Cheryl it was gigantic, but most of us pick something much smaller. It's all relative and, thankfully, most of our lives don't implode the way hers did.

It was June 2012 when the anguish of losing a friendship a few months earlier turned from sadness to anger, and I mean anger like I'd never had before. I had been in the wrong place at the wrong time but hadn't known it in the moment. When I finally realized the truth, I fell into a dark place. I was so angry and hurt that I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. All I felt like doing was running, so I decided I would run a marathon. And I'd run it without music! I did it, too. I trained for six months and ran over 600 miles, all without my iPod pumping inspiring music into my ears to keep me going. All I had was my own fortitude.

It was horrible. Dreadful. Awful. The training was the hardest thing I'd physically done in my life, and then the race didn't turn out the way I had thought it would. I took on the challenge because I thought it would make me feel better about myself, make me stronger, and make me raise my arms in victory as I crossed the finish line. It didn't do any of those things for me, and in the immediate aftermath I stayed angry. A few months later, though, I understood that as horrible an experience that marathon was, it was something that I needed to do. No, it didn't make me stronger or happier, but it certainly punished my body and me. So it served its real purpose--as a way for me to punish myself. I also understood that the rage I held was really for me. I was truly angry at no one but myself.

No one will ever call me wild. My ride was nothing but mild, and three long years later I feel like I've finally found peace. I sure took the long way, and the music will never be silenced again. Life is just a classroom.

Dinner Music

Tonight's conversation at dinner was a riot. Elizabeth mentioned that the Red Hats (the community service club for sixth graders at school) were going back to visit the residents at a nursing home. This time they're singing songs from the 50s and 60s to the seniors. So today the Red Hats practiced some songs, and when we asked her what songs they learned it was like Name That Tune. Here are some examples of her clues.

Something like four o'clock rock.
Songs by a guy named Frank something.
Something about the moon.
That's da more ay.
Spelling love.

Some were easier to figure out than others. "Rock around the Clock" was obvious, but Brian and I had fun trying to come up with as many Frank Sinatra songs as we could. It was "Fly Me to the Moon," by the way. The Dean Martin classic "That's Amore" came to us right away too, and Matthew had a good laugh about pizza pies hitting your eye. "L.O.V.E." rounded out the Red Hats' set list for this gig. I hope to be on the chaperone list for this activity!

Dare to Dream

Yesterday was the hundredth day of school, and today Matthew brought home an essay about what he'll be like when he's one hundred years old. It's cute and sooooo Matthew.

"When I am 100 years old I will be old but busy and happy. I will be a millienair. I will have a mustash and have gray hair. I will see villiges and find and give gold. I will cook and play chess. I will go hunting and have great grand kids. I am going to have a great time when I am 100."

I hope so, Matt! Except for the hunting.

Pema Says

The Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron, offers insightful views of relationships and inspiring ways to face everyday challenges as well as extremely difficult situations. Her perspective is refreshing and helps me to stop sweating the small stuff. (Though irrational thoughts at night are another story entirely, and if you were worried as much as I was about my day today, then rest assured that is was okey-dokey and nothing to fear at all. Pema would have told me that last night if I had talked to her.)

At least once a day, I try to read something she's said or written to either calm me down or get me to focus on the right things. It helps that I'm on her email distribution list, and I devour her delicious, weekly heart advice. Today's is as followed:

"Stop running away. If there are whole parts of yourself that you're always running from, that you even feel justified in running from, then you're going to run from anything that brings you into contact with your feelings of insecurity. And have you noticed how often these parts of ourselves get touched? The closer you get to a situation or person, the more these feelings arise. So I'm here to tell you that path to peace is right there, when you want to get away."

There's no need to run from what scares us. Stick around and, maybe, even throw yourself into situations that might make you uncomfortable at first. The more opportunities we have to deal with places, people, or tasks that are bothersome to us for whatever reason(s), the better we become at dealing with our feelings and ultimately finding peace. So lose the fear and get in there.

At least I think that's what she's saying. Well that's what I'm doing!

After Midnight

OK. There's no need to panic. Like I tell Elizabeth when she's having trouble falling asleep, your body will get the sleep it needs. Don't worry and you'll fall asleep. But I'm still worried.

I said something stupid at the PTO meeting tonight. Everyone else probably forgot all about it by now, but I hate to look like an idiot and can't stop thinking about it.

Then, the teacher I subbed for today thanked me and told me she left treats on everyone's desk except the students' whose names I left in my note. I'm very honest in my notes, but maybe I should rethink that. I believe my exact words were, "Everyone was respectful but ____ and  _____ and _____ were a bit chatty." If I remember correctly, I ended the sentence with a smiley face! Yet when I go back tomorrow to that same class I'll face those sweet kids who I reminded to be quiet a few times today and see their sad faces when they realize they have no treat. Crap. I've already gotten out of bed to stick some pencils in my bag so they can earn something tomorrow. I have no idea what the treat is; it's probably better than a colorful pencil, though. I only wish she had told me she would do that. Live and learn.

Lastly, after tonight's meeting I had a beer, and any drip of alcohol after dinner messes with my body's clock. I'm awake. And now it's way after midnight.

It's OK. My body will get the sleep it needs. If it doesn't, I can nap right at three o'clock in the afternoon tomorrow.

Somehow that's not making me feel any better right now.

Spring Break Thoughts Already

My friends Jennifer and Christine planned a girls' getaway for us over spring break. I'm grateful to have cool friends with awesome ideas who say, "You're coming, Sara!" By lunch today, I had eight texts about flights and dates and times, and by tonight we were all booked and settled. We're going to spend a few days (four!) in the Santa Barbara/San Luis Obispo area and stay on Morro Bay. We are excited!

I've done zero research, and my California geography is less than stellar. I have some work to do or I won't know what to pack, and I kind of feel like the loser who isn't contributing. I'll be more useful when we're there, though. "One Glass Girl" will be the designated driver, as I seem to have the most sensitive stomach. Meanwhile, Christine has us all lined up for wine tastings for two days, and she found a Groupon for a pretty resort along the coast. Jennifer's looking into our car rental options because we fly into Burbank. I'm optimistic about this because she has "drive along the coast in a convertible" on her life list. This could be it!

So it all sounds promising, huh? It all goes down two months from Friday.

One Great Song

This song is everywhere now. I know they have to pay the bills, so I don't blame them for selling their awesome songs to Chase or Mercedes or whomever else is willing to pay millions for them. If I could write songs like he can, I'd do the same.

I realize this is the second time I'm linking up this song here, but I still think it's OneRepublic's greatest. Enjoy. Again and again.

Time to Make the Lunches

You can say it. Here she goes again, complaining about something that just about everyone has to do, too. But some of you never "took a break" so you might not realize how much you have to get used to it all. And I'm still getting used to it. Also, I'd like to let you know that I've been bumped up from packing two lunches to four.

I've been packing the kids' lunches for years, but Brian has packed his own since I stopped working. He wouldn't mind doing his still, but I feel silly making everyone else's (including my own) and not his. Besides, everything's out already so it's just more efficient. But I wish it was even more efficient because it seems to take me at least twenty minutes to get four lunches together.

Maybe five minutes per lunch isn't bad, come to think of it. I know I make things harder by using reusable containers for everything, and the washing of them after school every day is even less fun, but I do what I know I should do so I'll keep doing it. Also, if everyone ate the same thing, it would go so much faster.

There are four menus for four people. Here they are:

Brian likes crunchy peanut butter and honey on whole wheat, eight and a half Triscuits (no joke), a container of cottage cheese filled three-quarters of the way, and a banana and granola bar for snacks.

Elizabeth takes ham and Swiss on whole wheat, about five or six Triscuits (don't have to count for her), unsweetened applesauce with a dash of cinnamon, a juice box, and a cookie or small candy treat. Both kids also get a napkin with a handwritten note from Mom on it.

For Matthew, I pack half a creamy peanut butter and jelly sandwich on potato bread (the only bread this kid will eat now), plain low-fat yogurt mixed with half a smashed banana and some blueberries, a small container of granola to pour into his yogurt, a juice box, and cookie or candy treat.

Lastly, I pack myself a half of a peanut butter (creamy or crunchy, I care not) and jelly sandwich on whole wheat, one sliced red or green apple spritzed with lemon or orange juice, a light mini Babybel cheese wheel, and a few Triscuits.

Gosh. I think it took me twenty minutes to pack all those lunches and another twenty to tell you about it. But do you see what I mean? I make it so hard trying to feed my family healthy and well-balanced meals. I'm sure it's worth it. It's gotta be worth it. Tell me it's worth it!

The Power of Suggestion

For the past year and a half, I've often been drawn to Genevieve as she sits in the guestroom. As I walk down the hallway from my own bedroom or into the house from the laundry room, I see her and I go to her. When I bought her, the folks at the guitar store told me to keep the guitar somewhere where I'll see it often so that I'll play it more. "Whatever you do, don't keep it in its case." Sound advice. And really, why would I keep her hidden away? She's beautiful and should be seen.

That strategy has certainly worked for me, and now the same thing is happening to Elizabeth since we've hung her ukulele on her wall. In fact, we've both been picking it up each time we head to her room. How can you not? See how it beckons!

For What It's Worth

When I went to work last semester, I used my Vera Bradley pool bag. It's big enough for all that I carry, and it's very cute. It's also very summery because half of it is straw while the other half is light blue and turquoise. It certainly made more sense when I carried it at the beginning of the school year, but when the weather started to change I know I looked pretty ridiculous carrying that bag in November and December. So I casually mentioned to Brian that I should get a new tote bag.

He took that comment and ran with it as Christmas approached. He never once asked me what kind of bag I wanted, so he either asked around or searched online to find out what women want when it comes to handbags and totes. My mother-in-law told me that when he was in Atlanta a few days before Christmas (to celebrate his mom's retirement), they shopped for bags at the mall. He didn't get anything but ideas, and when he came home he shopped some more. What I appreciate the most is that he really tried, and it completely makes up for the the fact that his choice wasn't quite right.

What he got me was a Michael Kors handbag.

Please don't get me wrong. I know that it is a nice purse, a very kind gesture, and any wife would and should be thrilled to receive a gift like that from her husband. But, as we are all sometimes painfully aware, I am not like everyone else. So when I opened it I automatically said, "How much was this?" He said, "Don't worry about it." But worry about it was pretty much all I could do. The leather felt good, the insides were so fancy, and it came with a dust cover. I'd never had a luxury bag of any kind, so I honestly didn't even know what to make of it. Except that even though it was a beautiful purse, it just wasn't me.

First of all, it was a purse so it was purse-sized. What I was looking for was a tote, preferably a poolbag-sized tote; this was too small. It was also very heavy. Even with nothing in it, that fine leather was substantially heavier than straw and fabric, and the dangling charm had to weigh a half-pound by itself. Add a lunchbox, some books, my real purse, and everything else I take (if I somehow managed to make it all fit) and that purse would probably weigh a ton. After a few days of walking past the purse on the counter, I finally admitted to Brian that I was going to take it back. I loved that he thought I deserved it, but it wasn't what I needed and I also felt that it cost too much. I know people pay a lot of money for designer bags, but I'm not one of them. And I'm not judging. People choose to spend their money on different things. It's just that no bag is worth that much money to me.

So we took it back. I looked for a bag online for a few days and also shopped at the mall. What I decided on was a very practical and fun Vera Bradley tote. And no, that's not me in the photo below but there's always the hope that I will someday look that put-together.

My new bag cost a tenth of that Michael Kors bag, but it's absolutely perfect for me. I love it, and it's really worked out well this first week back to school. While at the mall, I also got two tops, a pair of pants, a coat, and there's still some money left from my returned purchase. Now that's worth it.

The Plan for Third Quarter

I spent this morning in first grade. Though kindergarten and first grade aren't my favorite grade levels to teach, I signed up for this assignment because it was for only the morning. Three hours. I can handle it for three hours. I more than handled it, though; I enjoyed it. They were a sweet class, and with the exception of one (there's always one!) they were hard workers. We got a lot accomplished and we managed to have some fun. They do math in the afternoon, so we went over spelling and vocabulary words, reading, and grammar--all my favorites. I was happy to be there, and the students seemed happy I was there. If fact, before we left for the cafeteria at lunchtime I got hugs from seven of them. Awww.

This school is on my list of the top three schools to visit. The kids are mostly good, but what takes the cake is the staff. If the staff is kind to subs, then that's a place I want to go back to. I was walking in and a kindergarten teacher greeted me. Then she thanked me for coming to their school. Then she said, "It's so great that you're here," and thanked me again. I told her I liked it there, and she said, "Well that is just so good to hear. Thank you." Later, the teacher next door popped her head in and let me know she was there if I needed anything. Another teacher told me to send so-and-so to her room if he didn't behave, and everyone I passed in the hallways gave me a huge smile, hello, and "Hope you're having a great day!" Well, I was and I did. Because of them. Kindness always counts.

In contrast to the school I went to three times and struck out three times with bad experiences, my third time at this school nails it as one of my favorites. I've found that there's plenty of work for me even if I don't take all the assignments I'm offered. It's better to keep my sanity and inner peace by going to only a handful of schools that I enjoy. I've visited many, which has helped me figure out my favorites, but it's definitely not necessary to go back to the ones that were unpleasant. So this quarter, I'm holding out for appealing assignments rather than filling my calendar early. The risk is that I might not work as often, but there's nothing wrong with that. I'd rather not work at all than go into an assignment knowing that it will be dreadful and expecting to have nothing but a really tough and awful day.

I went where the wind took me for awhile. Now it's not so breezy. Here's hoping it stays calm.

Switching It Up

For a moment, at least.

It's the end of an era. Elizabeth's piano teacher retired. Though I wasn't expecting that call earlier this week, I can't say I'm surprised. She's a very sweet lady but also very old. Truth be told, she's probably not as old as she seems. She's had some health problems the last two years, and she falls quite a bit. One time we saw her fall. She was walking across the room and stumbled (perhaps over her oxygen hose) and fell to the floor as Elizabeth and I watched helplessly in horror. She suffers from respiratory issues, and she says her medicine makes her shaky. She took a two-month break until after the holidays, but Monday she called and told me how sorry she is to have to stop giving lessons. She cried, and I cried back and wished her well. I don't know how many years she's been teaching piano, but I'm willing to bet it's been thirty to forty years. It's understandable that she's sad, and we are going to miss her. Elizabeth starts with her new teacher tomorrow, and we'll see how it goes.

During her break from piano lessons, though, Elizabeth has been picking up her ukulele quite a bit. My online guitar teacher has some new uke lessons, and it's unbelievable how quickly she manages to learn chords, progressions, and songs. In about twenty minutes this evening, she learned half of "Rainbow Connection." You know it; Kermit sings it. And now Elizabeth almost does and it's adorable. It's new, and she's excited about it. I hope it sticks!

Undecided

Elizabeth is in sixth grade, and next year she moves up to junior high. Other than the little preschool she went to, all her school years have been at our neighborhood elementary school. That's seven years. That's a long time to spend in one place, and that makes the transition to a new place that much harder. She's comfortable at her current school and is, understandably, worried about what lies ahead. Adding to the uncertainty is that we don't yet know where she will go to school next year.

Junior high is only two years here, and then students move on to four years of high school. These next two years are very important years, and we're all feeling the pressure to make a good decision. I've always been a strong supporter of the "go-where-you're-supposed-to-go" philosophy. If everyone goes where they're supposed to go, people will take ownership of their neighborhood schools, invest in them, and work hard to make them the kind of schools they want them to be. In this age of having a school on practically every corner, be it public, charter, or private, it's not the most popular of philosophies, probably because people no longer have the time to work hard or fight for their schools. Or maybe it's that they don't want to make the time. Or take the time. Maybe they feel like it's not worth it, and it's easier to send their kids a little farther away to a school that seems like it would be a better fit. I'm beginning to come around to that opinion.

On paper, our "home" junior high is a good school, and I think Elizabeth would do fine there academically. What I struggle with is the impression I get from the place that it's a bit of a tough school. What I mean is that a lot of the kids seem hard and tough. I've subbed at some of the other elementary schools that feed into that junior high and, at one in particular, many of the fifth and sixth graders I had for PE acted like disrespectful little thugs. During bus duty, one even held up something to me and proclaimed, "I brought a lighter to school." I couldn't tell what it was but he quickly followed-up with "Naw, I'm just playin'" as he and his buddies had a laugh. If I'm uncomfortable around those kids, how will Elizabeth feel? We already received a letter from the district stating that she qualifies for the honors programs so she, hopefully, wouldn't be around much of the riff-raff there (Yes, I know exactly what I sound like, and yes I do realize I graduated from McKeesport High School.), but I just don't know if that's the place for her.

There's another junior high in the district that we're considering. It's a smaller school with a more rigorous curriculum designed to better prepare the students for high school and college. It either does that or stresses out the kids so much that they end up hating school forever and resenting their parents for sending them there. (I'm kind of going through a worst-case scenario phase right now.) My friend's daughter goes there, and even though she has four hours of homework a night they are pleased with the school. My friend is also Elizabeth's math and reading teacher, and I wouldn't even be considering this school if she hadn't encouraged me to have Elizabeth apply. As a parent and as Elizabeth's teacher, her opinion carries a lot of weight with me, so I figured we owed it to Elizabeth to check out this other school for her.

This school has two campuses, and Brian and I toured one during the school day. You know what it reminded me of? Carnegie Mellon University. I felt like the dumbest person there and, like I mentioned, it was during the school day so there were seventh graders around. I got the impression that place was more for the prodigies of the area than for the hard workers. It was strange. The people were strange. The parents on the tour with us were strange, and the students seemed strange. However, when Elizabeth and I toured the other campus we felt comfortable and were impressed. It seems like it could be a good fit for her because the students appear to want to be there and want to learn, so we decided to begin the application process for that campus.

We submitted her application yesterday after spending practically all day Sunday completing it. There was the basic information to fill out, but both she and a parent had to each complete a set of questions in our own handwriting. It wasn't torturous, but we were forced to get some thoughts together. It was almost like writing a college essay. She had to write about why she wants to go there, what she looks forward to, what her strengths and weaknesses are, her hobbies and interests outside of school, etc. On my page, I had to do much of the same and also discuss her relationships with peers, her behavior, and her attendance. It took us both a long time, but it was good to really think about these things. Next up is a four-hour assessment test and then an interview with the principal and other staff members. And we thought the essay was bad!

So that's where we are on this milestone. A tough decision is in our near future.

Even Nerdier

The great Thanksgiving pink eye debacle of 2014 spurred me to get myself some updated eyewear. I couldn't wear my contacts for a week so I was forced to sport those old specs and stay home out of embarrassment. To prevent that from happening again, about a month ago I scheduled my eye exam and ordered some new glasses.

It was about time! I've worn glasses since the seventh grade and have had only three pairs since then. I started out in a very trendy dark pink Sally Jesse Raphael number, moved on to a preppy but rather large-lensed tortoise shell pair in high school, and my last were wire frames that were nothing special and only for emergencies because contacts have been for me since the eighth grade.

Now I've noticed eyewear is fashionable among women my age so I may try these out in public for fun. Or not. It feels strange looking through frames and they may or may not be giving me a headache. I probably just have to get used to them. Either way, these are my newest pair which, as my track record indicates, should last me eight to nine years.

A Climb to the Top

My friend Aimee is really into hiking right now. I loaned her a copy of Wild, and all of a sudden she's ready to tackle the Pacific Crest Trail. I wasn't even sure she'd care for the book, but it turns out the PCT goes almost right through the area in which she grew up so she recognized quite a few places that are mentioned. It made her nostalgic, and now that she's an athlete she has the urge to explore that area like she's never done before.

She took the plan surprisingly far in her head, but practicality won out so we're sticking close to our new homes and hiking and climbing around here. For now. But who knows? Someday maybe we'll really go out into the wild. Yesterday, though, we hiked to the summit of Piestewa Peak. I'd done it when I'd first moved to Phoenix fifteen years ago, again with my parents later that year, and then with the kids three years ago. It's a good introduction to climbing as the trail is maintained, heavily traveled, and it's impossible to get lost. It's a good workout and the views are spectacular on a clear day, too.

So we embarked on our adventure early, leaving Chandler at 7:00 am for the Phoenix Mountain Preserve which is literally right across the street from my old Charles Schwab office. We arrived so early we scored a prime parking spot close to the trailhead and began our ascent. Aimee took this photo just as we started, and we laughed that it looks like one of those photos they'll show of Phoenix when the NFL breaks to commercials during the Super Bowl. There will be a cactus. There is always a cactus!

We took our time, stopping every so often to catch our breath (it's a 1200 elevation change over the course of a mile) and made it to the top in about an hour. The trail is fairly easy with carved out steps so it's known as Phoenix's stairmaster, but at the very top there's some hand-over-foot climbing. We were glad to make it to the summit, but it was so windy and freezing up there. Literally. Her phone proves it.

We had a quick snack, took some pictures, and headed back down.

It took us just as long on the descent because we were being careful not to fall. It's steep in some parts, there are loose rocks in others, and neither of us was up for an impromptu and expensive helicopter ride.There was no rush and we knew it, so we enjoyed each other's company, the scenery, and then breakfast.

Oh, breakfast! This was quite possibly the best part of the morning. I searched Yelp for an eatery in that area and Bertha's Cafe looked promising. It was a great choice, and we thoroughly enjoyed every single part of the experience from the breakfast sandwiches (which were the best breakfast sandwiches we'd ever had) to the little cup of bananas with honey and granola that came on the side. Aimee had the Breakfast Wrap and I had the Brioche Egg Sandwich, if you're curious. The coffee was delightful; we were both ready to order larges but the lady at the counter told us if we're eating there we could help ourselves to free refills and charged us for smalls. That was nice of her, huh? Everyone there was friendly and kind, and their music selection was just my style with familiar tunes by Coldplay, Mayer, Mraz, Adele, Colbie, and other faves. It was cozy and warm in there, too, which was a welcome change from our early morning on the mountain. I wish this place was right around the corner from my house. It's probably good that it's not, but don't you doubt for a moment that I'm already trying to talk Aimee and other friends into hiking Camelback very soon if for no other reason than to eat at Bertha's again.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Our snow day was a fun day. Well, it was fun for the most part. There were the occasional "I'm cold" or "I'm hungry" or "My toes are frozen" whines but, you know, nothing ever works out just perfect. No kid is appreciative or grateful the whole time. You roll with it and savor the good moments and try your best to forget about how the kids argued with each other or you. It's life and I'm learning to not go into things with high expectations only to be let down. So the experience was mostly good. It was a beautiful and sunny day and not too cold. Though there was only about a foot of snow as a base and the play area was open the day before, there was still enough snow to sled. Some places were more comfortable than others, and we older folks took the bumps a little harder than the kids. We all crashed at least once, but Brian may have won for worst wipeout.

So without further adieu, here are the photos from our day at Wing Mountain snow play area outside of Flagstaff.

The path from the main road was gorgeous.

We slipped into our borrowed snow clothes and were ready for adventure.

We started out on the bunny slope and worked our way up.

After some sledding, we found an open meadow with lots of fresh snow to play in.

There were quite a few people there, but it never felt like it was too crowded.

We were there from about 10:00 to 2:00, and when we left there were a lot of cars waiting in line.
We were glad we got there early.

Before we left Flagstaff, we drove up to the Snowbowl Ski Resort. It was a pretty drive.

We plan to go again. Elizabeth and Matthew said once a year would be good. We are true Valley of the Sun dwellers after all.

A Nice Surprise

After a day in the snow (more about that another day), we came home to a package in the mail from my parents. They didn't remember to send all their gifts at once, either. I told you we aren't that kind of family!

Among the gifts was this sign:

I think it's funny but what's more remarkable is that I am kinda, sorta a teacher. Huh. Who would have ever thought?

And here's a brief preview of our wintery weather experience from the car window on our way up there. There was plenty of snow and sunshine, and the scenery was very pretty. We had a fun, if exhausting, day.