No. Just No.

Yesterday, I was telling my pal Aimee that when I sub at schools that are designed in the same format as our school, I have a harder time finding my way than at schools that look nothing like our school at all. You'd think it would be easier because I'm familiar with the floor plan, but I've realized that the subtle differences throw me all off. I can't get past them. The office door shouldn't face this way. These bathrooms should be around the corner. Why is the workroom on this side of the hallway? It's like I'm in bizarro world.

And that's how I felt listening to Ryan Adams' take on 1989. He's a talented musician and all that, but I can't go crazy over these covers. To me, they're all wrong. It's like he took the fun out of them and added a huge does of melatonin. As Aimee might point out, song-ruining should be reserved for elementary school talent shows.

I found this one to be the worst. Yawn.

Some Advice

If you ever see an unfamiliar car driven by a person you've never seen before somehow breaking the rules in the parent drop-off lane at school, here's what you don't do:

You don't honk your horn, wave your hands wildly, and scream at her.

Why? Because there's a good chance she's a substitute teacher visiting your child's school for the very first time. She's not not following the rules on purpose; she doesn't know them. Furthermore, the fact that she is in the wrong place at the wrong time is already causing her distress, and you acting like a crazed lunatic helps the situation in no way. Cut her some slack so she can park her car, get inside, and take care of your kids in their teacher's absence.

Thank you.

Lucky Girl

I know I complain a lot about how hot it is here, but I really am happy that I live in Arizona. I love the West, and I love our little city of Chandler. We are a few hours from the high country where there are lots of trees, mountains, and lakes to enjoy, yet our deserts can be just as beautiful. Especially on days like today when the old "Orb of Death" hangs out behind some clouds.

We like to be outside, and being outside is finally starting to be comfortable again. Maybe. Let's not jinx it. In any case, last night I decided that the kids and I would go for a hike while Brian went mountain biking. So I grabbed my 60 Hikes within 60 Miles book that my pal Aimee gave me for Christmas last year, and found a promising looking hike about forty minutes away in Gold Canyon. 

I'm fortunate to have children who are morning people like me, so we got up, got dressed, had a light breakfast, and were out of the house by 6:25 am. As we were backing out of the driveway, I noticed ominous skies to the east, but the rain seemed isolated so I hoped the storms would be over by the time we got there. Halfway there, though, we were caught in some rain and then it was stormy all the way to the trailhead. We had gone quite a ways, and it looked like it might clear up fairly quickly, so we hung out in the car for thirty minutes. Other people were in their cars, too, and after a few groups of hikers and one group of mountain bikers took to the trail, I figured that they knew that really dark cloud was not coming our way so we followed.

We finally jumped out of the car and headed out on the Hieroglyphics Trail, a three-mile, out and back jaunt into a canyon within the Superstition Mountains that contains a masterpiece of Hohokom petroglyphs. Quite simply, it's an easy hike with a sweet reward. The kids really enjoyed it (when they weren't arguing with each other or hitting each other). All our hikes have their moments, but it was mostly peaceful because it wasn't hot, the views were awesome, I brought snacks, and the petroglyphs were cool to see.

heading out even with the stormy skies

We entered the wilderness!
Truly. The sign proves it.

lots of rocks to climb

There were quite a few levels of petroglyphs, and you had to climb them to see them well.
 Everyone did. Not just us. I swear. But we didn't touch the images.

Though we could hear thunder in the distance sometimes, we didn't get rained on and didn't see any lightning. Believe me, I was looking for it.. The trail was a little more rocky than I prefer, but it was a nice hike and a good way to spend a morning with my babies. I'm glad they like to do this with me. I really am lucky.

A Slap in the Face

Before I give you reason to tell me I'm too sensitive, I'll just come out and say that I already know that. I've always been this way, I'm never going to change, and it's something that I've had to deal with all my life. No, I don't like loud noises or strong smells, but what makes most people realize that I'm too sensitive is how deeply I feel things. The only other person who truly understands this is my mother. She, too, is a highly sensitive person, maybe even more so than I. We can tear up suddenly and usually in the worst of places. The more we try to stop the tears, the worse it gets. It's sometimes humiliating to be so emotional, but I have always felt it's better to be this way than the exact opposite.

Another drawback to being highly sensitive (as if the weepiness wasn't bad enough) is that my feelings are very easily hurt. Something can happen that has absolutely nothing to do with me--and it usually doesn't--but I'll feel it as a very personal dig.

I've mentioned before that there's a new group of moms managing the PTO at Matthew's school. They operate differently than my friends and I did, and while there's nothing wrong with doing things differently--a few of their ides are even refreshing--it's just that they do things almost the polar opposite of how we did things. I've listened as teachers complain to me, and I try to appear unaffected and not happy about their complaints of the new board. Because I'm really not happy. Though I'm glad the teachers appreciate how good things were, it doesn't make me happy that things aren't going well for the teachers now. It sounds like they're asking the teachers to do a lot for the PTO when it used to be the other way around. There seems to be a reversal in who works for whom. Like I said, that has nothing to do with me, but it still makes me sad. I think they are trying to do good things, but their approaches aren't always the best.

More personally, I was sad when the new board took the old school t-shirts and turned them into bags. I expected they would order new shirts, but I was not prepared for them to chop up the old ones. I can't even face the display when I'm eating lunch in the break room because all I see are murdered shirts. I chose that design, ordered those shirts, and drove ten miles to pick them up. They didn't like them so much that they had to ruin them? I, and probably many other parents, gladly would have paid $7 to buy an "old" $10 school t-shirt, but I don't want a t-shirt bag. I don't think anyone does, because I haven't seen one person carrying one. Ever. Poor shirts. Poor decision. If their goal is to raise as much money as possible, they could have made more selling discounted t-shirts. And they wouldn't have made me want to cry.

Yes, the t-shirt bags were a shock, however what I found in the break room the other day nearly broke my heart. One of the family cookbooks we made six years ago was lying on a table beneath that t-shirt bag display. I don't know if they cleaned out the closet and found the last one or if someone decided they didn't want theirs anymore, but I saw it sitting there and it was like a slap in the face. I put my heart into that cookbook. I collected recipes for months from the school's families. I edited them. I typed and formatted them. I organized the book, took it to be copied, and then I hand-bound every single one of those 100 books in the school's work room. I'm not trying to sound like a martyr here, but it was a significant effort and it took me a very long time to pull it off. And there the last one sat as though someone had said, "Let's just set it out and maybe someone will take it."

Someone did take it, and that person was me. First, I asked one of the office ladies if she knew why that old cookbook was sitting in the break room.

Office Lady:  Oh I saw that. I'm not sure.

Me: Well, I'm going to take it. Because I worked really hard on that.

Office Lady:  I think you should.

So I did. And I gave it to my friend, Candi, who came to our school the year after we made the cookbook. Though not a highly sensitive person herself, she appreciated the gesture because she understands. She's one of my friends who served on the previous boards, and she gets it. I'm glad she was there so I could get over it.

My Poor Husband

Though I don't think it would be fair to say that I've let myself go, I do think it's fair to say that it certainly looks like I have when Brian is home.

He leaves for work thirty minutes before I do, and at that moment I am usually in the middle of my getting-ready ritual. So when he sees me in the morning I've either just rolled out of bed, gotten out of the shower, still brushing my teeth, or drying my hair. Let's just say I don't look my best.

However, I go to work looking pretty decent most days. I fight hard to make my hair look nice, I put on a little makeup, and I try to wear flattering clothes. But after school, I quickly wash all the school germs off my face, take out my contacts and put on my glasses, change into a comfy t-shirt and shorts, and sometimes, especially if I've spent a day in PE, I take a shower.

What I'm saying is that when he's around, I usually don't look like the woman he married. I look like a tired and sloppy version of her. I wonder if he notices. I wonder if he cares. He never says anything, but he's a thoughtful guy and is probably sparing my feelings. Should I care? Should I try harder? I don't think he's that in to looks. Clearly. So I think I'll just stay comfortable. At least I have the cleanliness thing going for me.

Recommendation

If you want to laugh, cry, and be inspired, then you should read this book. That is all.

This Will Do

I know I can't stop talking about it.

It's just that we're very happy and excited! We're not happy and excited in a materialistic way, though. We just can't stop planning our upcoming big adventures and also our microadventures. We want to go to national parks, state parks, and little campgrounds not too far away simply to get away for weekends here and there. If we had careers where we could work from anywhere, and if I wouldn't have to home-school our kids, I wouldn't mind selling everything except for what we really need and go live in the woods. Then live at the beach the next week, the desert the next, by a lake the next, etc. There's an awful lot of stuff I would be okay with never having to see or deal with again. I wouldn't look at it as running away; I'd see it more as refocusing on what we really want out of life.

But Brian cannot work remotely. And I cannot home-school my kids. Plus, twenty-five feet isn't all that much space for four people, and the Airstream's owners manual specifically says it is not made for long-term living. (Something about the condensation of our breath, I don't know.) So short getaways and longer trips when we can will have to do. For now.

So I spend my evenings researching campgrounds, state parks, and national parks. Currently, I'm looking for somewhere to go in November when Brian's mother visits. She'll take a trip with us. Top picks are Sedona and Joshua Tree National Park. I'm leaning towards Dead Horse Ranch SP in Cottonwood right now for its proximity to Sedona. She's never been there before, and I think she would like the views and the shopping. Joshua Tree looks a little tricky with so many campgrounds being first come, first served, but maybe we can go there in the winter when my parents visit.

I'll keep looking. It's what I do now.