A note from Fred

It seems Christie has too little time to blog, so let me take the opportunity.

There have been a few changes around here. Just a few. (Hope you sense my sarcasm). You know why she has no time? Because she spends every second with the little one called Dominic.

A guy lives with his people for 10 years and you expect life to keep on rolling the same everyday, until BAM! One day they bring a little mini human home. Sure they introduced us to him out in the yard to be respectful, blah blah blah. But so what. It's not like they weren't going to take him on in the house whether Iris and I gave our blessing or not.

I feel like I'm stuck in a cliche Disney movie, only Iris is much less romantic than the Tramp. So I'm lacking the whole romantic comedy angle in my version, and what good is that movie without the spaghetti scene under the moonlight? I'll tell you- it's no good for the dog who just had a baby move into his house.

No barking in the house. (Well this was kind of a rule before, but trust me, they are serious about it now!)

You'll have to wait for your dinner. The baby gets fed first- BOO!

No more walks. Stroller + leashes = a headache for everyone. How about subtract the stroller instead of the leashes??

People who come to visit are not here to see you. I feel seriously ignored.

Blankets layed on the floor are not for you. Maybe I would like to lay on a blanket- did anyone think of that?!

New squeaky toys are not for you. Um...?

Stay away from the diaper pail. I swear I'm always in trouble.

And Jesus, be careful when getting a drink. Every time my tags clank against the water bowl I think Christie is going to jump out of her skin. I can't even get a drink in my own house!

And could a guy get some petting once in a while?

I knew something was up when Christie started looking very swollen. Something was not right. Well, we know how that one turned out. I'll know better next time. Learned my lesson.

Yep, babies are no good for the dog.

Though... he did pet me for the first time yesterday. It was pretty sweet actually. And he does smell good. And he's starting to try to talk to me. So maybe I might like him...

No! I'm sticking to my story. A baby is no good for the dog!

(I think...)

Month One

Dominic is one month old today. It's one of those time frames that has flown and inched all at the same time. It's a 24 hour gig, so I feel every hour. But the hours have become more joy filled and less anxiety filled. My little boy is a wonderful communicator and has taught me what his different signals mean. I can now shift my appreciation to his slate-blue eyes that more and more often lock with mine, or his little milk-laced tongue that shoots in and out of his mouth after eating. And as crazy as it sounds, I've grown to enjoy the 1 am feedings. It's so quiet and peaceful, dimly lit, and sweet. My baby has kindly grown to sleeping good chunks of night time, so we only get up once a night (most of the nights, knock on wood...).

I've especially loved getting to witness this new little being experience everything for the first time. He has become a pro at transitioning from the bath to the towel Dad holds open for him. The first exit from the warm water was with a panicked screeching of a poor baby who had never felt the immediate cold rush to wet skin. Today he made me laugh with another first. My friend Danielle has asked me if he's learning that his hands belong to himself yet. Until now, I said, I'm not sure. Now I can say, no, he still has no idea where these hands come from or who controls them. Today, as he lay on the couch swimming away with all four limbs, he reach up and grabbed a fist full of his own dark duck-feathery-hair, and then squealed. Someone was pulling his hair! The hand did not let go, so he squealed again. Finally the hand released, and he looked at me.

I'm looking forward to the hand-discovery, because I fear he thinks I might be the one always smacking him in the face, and now pulling his hair.

I did it!

This is a seriously proud day for me!

I successfully went to the grocery store with my 13 day old baby!!!

That may not sound like much, but trust me, it was a HUGE accomplishment. In order to complete this task I had to feed my baby, and get him dressed and happy so that I could get dressed in something of the non-pajama-variety. (This in itself is big.) Next, I got him out of the house and figured out the car seat. Then we strolled around the store for almost an hour without any crying or screaming (from either of us!). And then I got myself, Dominic, and the groceries home and unloaded. All by myself!!!!

This is a seriously proud day for me.

Dominic

And the journey begins.

Save Me From Myself

Having a baby may be the best thing I've ever done. And I haven't even had him yet. We are in waiting mode at the moment. I'm due in 10 days, but I'm willing him to come early. So any moment now...


The waiting game has proved to be everything I expected it not to be. It's oddly relaxing. Potentially it's a hair-pulling wait, but I have let go of the platinum fist-fulls in order to allow my body to open up. Literally. So each day I am waking up with really no plans, no schedule, no expectation. The day is blocked out to have a baby. What am I doing tomorrow? Having a baby. What is my schedule for next week? Having a baby. What are my plans for this summer? Um, yes- I'm having a baby. I've never had such a stress-free schedule in my life. Now, it seems that this could be one of the most anticipation-filled, stress-riddled summers ever. But, I'm telling you, it's not. I have finally achieved the balance and genuine day-to-day living that I've been searching for in my years of practicing meditation, yoga and all-other-things-zen-enhancing. Who knew reproducing would have landed me here?! I should have done this years ago!


And here's my biggest secret: I kind of expected it to come to this.


Since I was in my teens, the idea of being a parent truly scared the shit out of me. It's the one thing I've ever doubted I could do well. It always surprised me how sure most people were- they couldn't wait!- they would one day be parents. It seemed as though they were hardwired to reproduce. I remember a conversation in 7th grade with one of my oldest and greatest friends, Michael Bunchman. For whatever reason 12 year olds would be talking about being parents, I found myself in this conversation, and I was honest when I told him I never wanted to have kids. "Never?!" he said shocked. And then his tone changed to someone much older than his 12 years when he said, "No, you will one day. You'll change your mind."

I think that conversation has stuck with me for so many years because a) at the time I was highly annoyed at his response, and b) it was an eerie piece of foreshadowing stuck into my walking-to-the-bus-after-school-average-day. And ten years later, I found myself overdoing and overscheduling to try to fill some void that I wasn't even aware existed. Ignorantly, I plowed forward in seven different directions apparently trying everything that could possibly inspire me in some way, all while still ignoring the path labeled "Parenthood," because I'd decided many years ago that path was closed to me. I learned the great art of Vipassana meditation, got my masters, completed triathlons and half marathons, learned Spanish and knitting and how to snowboard...and was still searching. What should I do next?


And having said all of that, though it took me still eight more years, I woke up one day and decided I really wanted to have a family. (Ugh! How cliche! What happened to me?!) Nothing- no project, no career move, no degree- sounded as exciting as starting a family with Kris. And all along, there has been a little piece of that eerie foreshadowing whispering in my ear that this is what I was meant to do. This would be my greatest accomplishment, the job that gave me the most pride. You were right, Michael.


Ugh! How cliche! Seriously, what happened to me?!

Here comes the sun

It is summer- finally- and I am settling back into relaxation, into calm, into myself. The space that has come with the sun is so liberating. So much so that I have to fight back an urge to multitask, or reprimand myself for enjoying not multitasking. I absolutely love moving at my own pace, not living by a clock. It will all get done. That is the biggest lesson I am taking from the long, dark winter that has just passed. It will all get done.


I have to say that the end of the school year was very enjoyable. The intensity of my school ran strong to the very end, only it took on another shade- one of generosity, appreciation, and kindness. There was no shortage of cards, gifts, and genuine thanks in the final weeks. I was overwhelmed more than once by my classroom community and their good will toward me and the baby. I received more thanks and gifts this year than all of my other 7 years combined. Even so, I'm not sure I didn't prefer my old environment where half of the parents forgot my name most of the time. Gifts aren't necessarily worth the constant doubt and anxiety.


Ah, but the sun has finally arrived. The sky has found it's perfect hue of blue. Neglected pieces of my life are sprouting and blooming like the irises in my front garden. I have missed the sun more than I realized. And perhaps I appreciate it more than ever as well.

Kibbles 'N Bits

There are many new and interesting experiences that come with being pregnant. Of course you have a live miniature human growing in your abdomen which is very cool and very odd at the same time. But I'm not talking about the new physiological experiences. It's the social changes that are surprising. You don't read about these in the baby books. They are just small exchanges that happen very casually, yet leave a big impression. On me at least.

First, people are so nice and courteous to pregnant women. Everyone steps out of the way and let's you pass first, no matter where you are, or how much space is available. A sweet smile glows back at you as you pass. Suddenly you should not be allowed to carry anything, pick up anything, reach for anything, or really move quickly whatsoever. It's a very wonderful, but at the same time sad reflection on our society that only in this time of my 30 years have I been treated so nicely.

While strangers in the public suddenly see me as someone to be taken care of, I still see myself as me, doing what I usually do. Until one day I didn't. In this case I'm not talking about lifting paint cans. I'm talking about myself as a social person in my usual social situations, and it suddenly-rather abruptly- feeling very different.

Last month, my hubby and I took a final trip together to visit some good friends in Chicago. It was a fabulous trip. The weather was cooperative so we were able to walk the city much of the time taking in the scenery and culture alike. We went to amazing restaurants, stayed in a swanky hotel, and enjoyed wonderful conversation and laughter with our friends. One night after dinner, they wanted to take us to a new, cool lounge that had fireplaces, modern decor and floor to ceiling windows that showcased the view of the 28th floor. Sweet, let's go!

We get there, and the place is as amazing as the promised, only tonight, it looks like a scene out of Studio 54. Ok, not really, but it was packed and bumpin. There was no lounging. There was dancing, picture taking, drinks and apps all around. Sounds fabulous, right?! Six months ago, this would have been my new favorite spot. I would have been first in line at the bar getting everyone a drink and out dancing to Crystal Water's 100% Pure Love.

And here's where the aforementioned "abrupt" change in me happened.

I was a little horrified.

My brain was not immediately excited by the sights and sounds of this perfect little spot. Rather, all I could think of was the 2nd club scene in Knocked Up when a very pregnant Katherine Heigl is trying to get into a club with her...um, older sister. The bouncer refuses to let them in saying, "Can't have no old, pregnant bitches runnin around. She should be home. That's just bad parenting."

OMG. Who do I think I am out a glam club? I took my coat off only when it became unavoidable, then held it in front of my Joey pouch the rest of the time we were there. I was trying to process what just happened, and mourning a little piece of my life that would never be the same. Of course I'll go out again, and I'd love to find that place in particular next time around, but life as I've known it in my adult years, is officially different. And that, I was not ready for. No, you don't read about that in the baby books.

I'm seven months pregnant now and still have not settled on a name for our little boy. We have a few good contenders, but nothing is really sticking. The second question everyone asks after, "How are you feeling?" is "Do you have a name picked out yet?" I have met several moms-to-be who play the "yes, but we're not telling," card, which as a former asker, I was always a little turned off by this, like I was intruding by asking. Personally, I tell everyone who asks our ideas, because I want true reactions. I don't want to pick out a name, think it's perfect, present our baby and hear "oh, how cute!" only to have people go home and say, "what were they thinking?!" Call me shallow, but public opinion matters, even to the "we're keeping it a secret" moms. Otherwise they'd be happy to tell you.

And so, I've had lots of conversations about names. With everyone in my life. And I've been shocked at how much people really do like thinking about names. In a effort to be polite, I try to let the topic die away after an exchange or two, but most people keep the conversation going. So I've gathered up lots of suggestions in the last few months, and I leave you with the BEST one-the Kibbles 'N Bits story, I like to call it.

One afternoon before a staff meeting a colleague of mine gave the "how are your feeling? have you picked out a name?" spiel. I gave my usual replies and she told me her sister had just had a little boy and she just loved the name. With a very well intended smile she said,

"You should name him Dixon!"

Uh-huh, yeah that's cute. I'll keep that in mind, I told her. I sat there thinking:

A. Why would you pick any name so close to Dick for a poor child?
B. You know my last name, right?! Why would you pick any name so close to Dick for a poor child, and then pair it with Cox?????!!!!!

And then the C. part of this didn't come until I retold the story and actually said the name out loud for the first time.

Dixon Cox.

Go ahead, say it out loud, more than once if you like.

It's the name that keeps on giving.

Just wanted to share

Now, I know you weren't expecting another post so soon...it's only been like 3 weeks since my last one. But ta-dah! Here I am with a quick one.

While reading Harper's Bazaar on the elliptical last week, I stumbled upon this little gold mine. A young fashionista, only 13, whose blog, Fashion Rookie, has rocked the fashion world. Her name is Tavi Gevinson, and let me repeat, is a 13 year old savant. She's featured in not only Bazaar, but Paris Vogue, writes for Pop magazine, is touring the world's fashion events and writing about it along the way. What's craziest is her most excited words are around the fashion she reviews, not the giant article written about her in Paris Vogue.

Clearly she has this genius eye for fashion, but she is an extremely articulate and gifted writer as well. Even if you are not at all interested in fashion, check out her blog! I guess I (and much of the fashion world apparently) am so impressed and interested in her because she's 13! What were you doing when you were 13? The most exciting and noteworthy thing in my life was that my parents finally got call waiting so I could maximize my time on the phone.

I'm just saying, check it out.

Are You Alive? Yep

Today I got an email that said "Are you still doing your blog?"

The answer is yes. Though I suppose technically that's not true. But I'm writing in my head all the time. It's just, there's not much in this head these days I think anyone else might be interested in hearing. My classroom? I think everyone is tired of that topic. Baby stuff? A very slim audience is interested in this conversation. Other thoughts? Well, I'm living through one of the biggest growth periods of my life. And while growth is many things, it is most definitely painful. Again, not what others might want to hear about.

But growth also yields an amazingly new bright and shiny skin. And nothing feels as wonderful as that new skin. It truly makes the struggle of shedding the old skin feel very worth while. I feel like I've nearly wriggled out of that old skin, enough so that I can already see some of the bright spots. Some very cool things I can share are that I have come to appreciate certain things in my life that I used to take for granted. Big things like how fortunate I am, and small things like manicures. I'm carrying around a new little life, a little joey, that is a beautiful combination of my husband and me. It's amazing to know I have a little piece of Kris with me everywhere I go. I can not wait to meet our baby. It has started moving around and kicking in the last few weeks, which is the weirdest and most natural thing all at once. We are going for my 20 week ultrasound tomorrow and will find out if we're having a boy or a girl. I haven't been so excited for something in years.

I have learned so many things in these last few months. My skills as a teacher have multiplied. I have been working in one of the most amazing schools. Though it's WAY effing harder than I wanted it to be, I am still truly proud to be part of my staff. I now know about the sensory development of my baby and all the things I need to eat in order to make that most successful. I've got the stretchmark-prevention oil, prenatal yoga classes, and I'm even getting the hang of making maternity clothes actually look good. My priorities have become very, very clear and this year has given me new perspective.

So, what exactly is my problem then? Why am I not beaming with happiness every single day? Well, because I'm still struggling with accepting my old foe: unexpected change. I wanted different things from this year. My job was not supposed to be so challenging. I was supposed to still have energy and creativity to write. I would have lots of extra time to bask in the beauty of my pregnancy. And those things did not happen. I know I write a lot about accepting things as they are, not as I would like them to be, so you'd think I would take my own advice. Still trying. I guess I just didn't plan on this year being so full of growth. For a planner, nothing is more irritating than unexpected personal growth derailing a year otherwise slotted for a lucrative career change and beginning a family.

So, I'm not going to lie, I've been a little bitter and frustrated about my messed up plan. That can be seen in my last post, that I wrote weeks ago, and posted, but yanked a few hours later when I got some worried reactions. Hide the sharp objects from Christie. But I'm going to go ahead and repost it now. It is honest and raw, things that I think writing should be. And not every post can be dripping with honey and sunshine. One of my friends said, we're not always on the top of the mountain. It's in the valleys that we learn the most.

And learning I am. It's been a major focus to spend my energy on things that make me happy, like walking my beagles on beautiful days, the rewarding moments that hide between the chaotic ones of my classroom, sleeping in, waking up to the love of my life, and reading all about cloth diapers and homemade baby food. There's more sunshine each day and the good news is that the second half of the year has been amazingly different. I feel like a different person. I'm still alive, and have almost wriggled out of that old skin. Closer and closer each day.

New Year's resolution: Get over it

Dear Bloggity,

I miss you. I'm not just saying that. I really do. Where has the time gone????? Where has my brain gone, should be the question. It's crazy. You think you have it all figured out. You're such a balanced, secure person. You have finally gotten all of your shit worked out and in order. No problem. Well, that flew out the window faster than you can say namaste. I forgot a friend's birthday... half of my Xmas presents were late... all I do is talk about and apologize for what a wreck I am all the time, and that this really isn't me. Gag! I find myself annyoing! And that part has been just as hard as the stress of my life itself. The fact that I fell apart, not immediately, but close. And then didn't manage to pull myself back together until Christmas break (and this is fragile ground we're walking on). I guess the fact that I got pregnant right in the middle of the walls crumbling didn't help. Oh bloggity! I haven't even had the chance to tell you I'm pregnant. With child. Expecting. Oh, my.

Of course, I have been wanting to start a family for years now. But I swear to you, a few weeks before I found out I was pregnant (I was probably pregnant at the time), I called my poor saintly hubby from work sobbing, "I think we should hold off a year on our plans to get pregnant. I don't think I can do this!" Of course, he talked me off of the cliff as he usually does. I still cried when I found out I was pregnant because I was scared. I have not been in shambles like this in years. Like I said, I thought all of that BS was behind me. And I really didn't want my pregnancy, the time I'd so looked forward to, to be eclipsed by my current state. Which I can blame on my two classes of five-year-olds, their relentlessly annoying parents, the ridiculous amount of paperwork that follows 44 freaking kids, and the never ending meeting schedule, all of which totally gets in the way of me doing my actual job, which is teaching these poor babies to read and write. Yes, I could blame that, and often do for my constant state of anxiety and panic. But let's face it. I'm not freaking President Obama. I'm not an EMT whose job is literally life and death. I am a kindergarten teacher. An acquaintance recently said to me, it's just kindergarten. And I just laughed. That's true; chill out, Christie!!! I only have myself to blame for my unbalanced crazy self of the last few months. And really, I'm boiling my poor baby in negative energy, and of all the things I beat myself up about, that wins.

So. Bloggity. It's a new year. New opportunity to start fresh. Time to leave all this anxiety-ridden worry behind. It's just kindergarten. Five months left. I can do this. Without being an annoying psycho about it. The only thing we have control of in this life is how we react to the things around us. Clearly I have not practiced that well lately. But it's my New Year's Resolution to do so. Because, I do have control over the level of harmony my baby swims in right now. Once the poor thing is out in this big world, I will not have that luxury. At that point it will be my job to teach my child to find the good, the beauty and inspiration in every day. And in the meantime, I have to do that myself.

It's always all about me. So sorry, Bloggity. How have you been?

Plan B

Ahhh, darn it. I didn't get a single blog posted in October. Well, what can I say? Life has thrown a few curve balls at me lately. It has been wonderful practice for accepting "it is what it is." And not being able to sit and write has been one of those tests.

I have gotten to know my Alter-Ego very well in the last few months. She and I have been at odds quite a lot. She thrives on tight schedules, deadlines, fear, stress, and Plan B in general. You know good ol' Plan B, who comes strolling along and stares you right in the face as he stomps your wonderfully crafted, dearly loved Plan A into the dirt like a cigarette butt? Yep, that Plan B.

I hate Plan B. When I panic and retreat at the sight of him, Alter-Ego literally takes over. She is extremely efficient, tunnel visioned, lacks creativity, focuses on survival, and is somewhat unpleasant. But she gets the job done, I must admit. She takes on Plan B like a champ and usually comes out the victor. Still, she is not satisfied, but rather bitter for being summoned to do my dirty work, and all the while I've been drug behind the Alter-Ego Express Train, and sadly look as much once the ride is over. We're quite a pair. My poor hubby never knows who to expect for dinner.

And it's really all because of Plan B. For some reason, a little fuse in my brain bursts every time Plan B pops up. And since my daily interaction is with 5-year-olds, who give no warning before they puke all over the table, I've had a lot of opportunity to study the sick relationship between myself, Alter-Ego, and Plan B.

At least I've learned about Alter-Ego. At least I know what she looks like. I've learned that much. That's something I suppose. But my challenge now is to handle Plan B on my own, to be able to stare him right in the eye and smile, rather than mourn the loss of my precious Plan A. What is so special about Plan A?! Is it the time that I put into crafting Plan A? No, I don't think so. Is it the fact that every detail was perfectly put together, and this is the best Plan A I've ever had? No, that's not it. Is it that I had beautiful expectations, hopes, and dreams for my sweet Plan A? No, actually... IT'S ALL OF THESE THINGS!!! And now I have to throw something else together, DAMN IT! And now I'm even more behind schedule than before, and...

That's when the downward spiral starts and Alter-Ego has already taken the reins. You can see why she has a nasty attitude.

But here's the moral of the story. If there is one thing I know, it's that you can't blame your problems on others. They are after all, your problems, and problems at all because of how you react to them. So I suppose I can't blame Plan B. He is present more consistently than Plan A. I suppose that makes him more reliable. And to be totally honest, some of the best outcomes are those sprung from Plan B (but don't tell him I said that). Something I've learned the hard way is that life is full of Plan B. I should get to know him, maybe have him over for dinner, meet his family, because I might dislike Alter-Ego even more than Plan B. She is a crazy bitch.

Yes, Plan B and I must agree to disagree. I have to be able to smile and breath when I see him round the corner. That way I can let my elusive little Plan A escape out the back door before Plan B has the chance to crush him. Maybe I'll see Plan A through fruition some day, until then, I have to learn to enjoy my life with Plan B. After all, at least he's not Plan C.

My brain all a-Twitter

No, I have not started a Twitter account. I've never really figured out the appeal to Twitter to be totally honest. But maybe that's because I'm a little more verbose than can fit in a 140 character post. That is, until very recently. With such a small space reserved for non-school thoughts, I've been able to conjure up lots of ideas, headlines really, but not much substance behind them. Perfect Tweet material. So here are a few Tweet-ish ideas from the last few weeks. But don't hold me to the 140 characters. Like I said, I am not a Tweeter. Just tired and lacking creativity.

I saw my first fall leave today. Yea! I love fall!!!

Soy cheese pizza and SYTYCD. I can't think of anything better on a Wednesday night. I'm becoming a seriously cheap date.

Thank god Kim Kardashian dyed her hair back dark. What was she thinking...?

OMG!!! Full-frontal nudity in my classroom!!! This is not happening...!

Kanye has the self control of one of my kindergartners. Possibly less.


Sushi Den has the best veggie roll in Denver!!! Next time I think I need two.

I just logged onto Facebook for the first time since July...wow...or sad...

I think it's ridiculous I have to send home permission slips for my kindergartners to view a speech by our President about education. Jesus!


My poor baby beag is feeling neglected. Iris has reverted back to her back-to-school behavior of peeing on the floor, and showing off her Barky Von Schnauzer behavior. I thought she grew out of that, but realized that I just went half time. Poor, baby! I'm sorry!

Oh, snap! Look who finally joined Facebook! Dan Cantrell aka Daddy-O!

I'm actually starting to feel more like myself again. Either Mercury is exiting retrograde, or it's been about 6 weeks since school started and I'm finally settling in like all the Kindergarten teachers said I would. Either way, the universe is feeling comfortable again.

Thanks to my girls for DRAGging me out this weekend. It was nice to unwind and have fun with you!!!

How was your morning?

Now, I know you are totally over hearing about kindergarten, teaching, school, children, or being overwhelmed in general, and wondering, can't she talk about anything else?!

And the answer is no.

It's all I think about.

Actually, the thought, "What was I doing/thinking about before I went back to teaching in the classroom?" pops up pretty regularly, because what ever that was, I'm not doing it anymore.

Regardless of my adjustments and crazed preparation, my classroom continues to be a different version of yesterday's three-ring circus. Never a dull moment. Never. Take last Wednesday morning for example:

7:35- Peel crying twins off of their parents, yet again, while greeting the other 21 students and making sure they are putting their backpacks away and finding their correct seats.

8:00- Console a crying student for getting busted (by me) for running and playing tag in the classroom during centers. I assure him I'm sure it won't happen again... wait, why do the roles seemed reversed?

9:15- Bandaging up a skinned knee at recess just as another bawling student wanders up with a busted, bloody lip. She somehow smacked her face on the slide. And of course she doesn't know how to get to the nurse. (Wait, where did I put the nurse cards?!) Who knows how to get to the nurse?! Can you escort her there and then come RIGHT BACK TO THE CLASSROOM?! (Jeez, is this proper protocol? Should I send a bloody, crying 5 year-old with another overly-confident 5 year-old? If there is anything I've learned in my few weeks with kindergartners it's that they don't always know what they think they do...) Whew, he's back. That was quick. He probably ran all the way back. Hopefully no one saw him running in the hall, or at least not back into my room.

9:45- In the middle of read aloud. All the kids are sitting, listening, focused.

BANG! The bathroom door is kicked open to reveal one of my boys strolling on out, singing to himself, his underoos and jeans around his ankles. OMG! Is this really happening?!

Luckily the kids' backs are to him and only catch a glimpse of his full moon as he turns around after I say (calmly, believe it or not), "Turn around, shut the door, and pull up your pants. We do not come out of the bathroom before pulling up our pants."

This is all before 10 o'clock. Oh, and I'm supposed to be teaching them how to read somewhere in there.

Ha. Ha.

Tell me, if you had days like this, would you blog about anything else?!

Needed: more sugar

About mid-morning last Wednesday, I thought to myself, I don't think I have the energy to be Mary Poppins.

My voice was strained. The kids were in a constant state of distracted. Nothing seemed to be going according to plan. I was starting to wonder if this was going to become the norm. I had yet to eat lunch that week, was staying up late every night trying to get caught up and prepared for the next day. Lord knows what else was going on outside of my classroom. Why is the flag at half mast? Search me; I haven't seen the news in two weeks.

For the smallest second, panic and self doubt were starting to creep in. I was me in my first year of teaching all over again, thinking holy shit...what did I get myself into?

In a blur of activity I survived the rest of the morning.

And then the most amazing thing happened.

My afternoon class walked in like professional kindergartners. They came in, put their stuff away, started their work, all without prompting or redirecting. I sat and watched and my heart swelled with pride, and relief. Ok, maybe I do know what I'm doing. Maybe it's going to be ok.

That's the beauty of teaching kindergarten. 11:00 is the start of a whole new day.

I almost forgot...

to give my final reaction to the SYTYCD finale!

Ok, so first of all, I'm pleased with the results. By the last few weeks Jeanine had really begun to stand out for me- especially during the solos- and I think she is amazing. My hubby thinks Brandon was robbed and my friend Danielle turned off the show once Kayla was awarded 4th place, but I really think that Jeanine is was given the well deserved winning spot.

Some final pieces I have to throw up that aired the during the last few shows:

Some oldies but Emmy-award-nominated/winning-goodies...
The bench piece choreographed by Mia Michaels, danced by Travis Wall and Heidi. Absolutely beautiful.

And of course, Ramalama, choreographed by Wade Robson. My favorite piece ever.

And also, I fell in love with the contemporary piece danced by Kayla and Brandon in one of the last weeks (sorry this is a long version of the video, but it's the best quality). It is choreographed by Stacey Tookey and is a perfect duet. Kayla + Brandon + contemporary = amazing!

Till fall...

A spoonful of sugar

I used to love Mary Poppins. Actually I still do.

She's fabulous. Efficient. Organized. Kind, yet strict. And her ability to accessorize is totally unbelievable. Let's talk about the bottomless carpet bag, as well as the umbrella, that not only has a flying function, but a pet talking parrot built into the handle.

She would make a great kindergarten teacher. I've been thinking about her as I've been setting up my room and starting school. Having a song for every situation makes the rowdy bunch much more manageable. Five-year-olds love to sing. They will drop everything to sing about getting into line. It's pretty amazing.

I'm considering making my new slogan WWMPD? (you know, what would Mary Poppins do?). I think I could definitely pull off channeling her. After all, I am well accessorized and eccentric in my own right.

Kindergarten is totally a trip. It is an absolute whirlwind. And really fun.

I've added a gadget to the right side of the page: Overheard in Mrs. Cox's kindergarten classroom. Keep your eye on that one. I already have material for days!

Happy 1st Birthday, Lilly Anna!

Crazy Americans

I just turned my computer on for the first time in over 3 weeks. Pretty amazing, eh? I've been resisting the urge to, because I knew that once I did I wouldn't resurface for several hours. My list of things to do on my computer is two pages long. But, as I said, I've been resisting. After nearly passing out with a panic attack at the Dallas airport the day I left the meditation course, I decided easing myself back into my life was the way to go. The lines, people, screaming babies, plastic baggies with liquids of no more than three ounces, shoes off through security-they must go on the belt, not in the tubs!- ID in hand, loud foreign accents, Wolf Blitzer blabbing on about Obama's health care plan piped in over the whole freaking place for your listening pleasure, proved to be a little much for me after 10 days of peace and silence.

At lunch in Dallas a couple of days before my course, my Aunt Tina made the comment, "you can't live in America and not be busy." Only someone who spends 3 months of the year in India could have that perspective, I suppose. Of course we all know we're "busy." There are different grades of busy, of course, ranging from the low-end-of-normal to the average to the awe-inspiring-uber-organized-phenom busy. We are actually impressed with people who accomplish more in one day than most people do in 3. And if you know anyone who often has "free time" it's almost as if they need to justify it to not appear, dare I say...lazy.

On my 4th day at the course I was walking the grounds of the center as the brand new sun rose overhead. Being in a rural area outside of Dallas, I was able to stop and admire some cows that were grazing on the other side of the barbed wire. Such lucky cows, I thought, as not many cows born today get to roam freely, eating grass, their natural-sized utters used only to raise their own babies. Kind of like the odds and good fortune of children born in America, I though to myself.

I walked further and knelt down to admire a leopard spotted frog. What a wonderful day, I thought as I tiptoed past him. I was feeling so good I wondered to myself, I think I would have enjoyed living in the country, with a slower pace, more nature... And then my aunt's comment, "you can't live in America and not be busy," resurfaced. It suddenly really made sense. Yeah, nature is all well and good, but standing around to admire it isn't the American way. We are a culture of faster, stronger, louder, better, richer. While Europeans take weeks off "on holiday" in the summer, everyone I talk to can't imagine giving up 10 vacation days to go sit and meditate. The English have afternoon teas, and many Latin cultures siesta midday. But while they were relaxing, Americans just made another $50.

As a person who clearly is drawn to a more meditative lifestyle, I'm still an efficient American through and through. We, like those cows, were fortunate enough to land where we did. We have the choice and opportunity to make of our life what we want. And most of us pack in as much as we can fit. Fully aware of the madness that lay ahead, as school starts next week, I've made the choice to ease back in. But, I turned on my computer this afternoon and Skyped into Lilly's first birthday party. And bottom line is, I love it. The madness, the tight schedule, accomplishing 3 days worth of things in one- after all, I'm going back to the classroom because I've been pulling my hair out in boredom the last few years.

I more than enjoyed- I needed- my 10+ days of zen. And I will try to maintain traces of it by meditating each morning.

But I'm back. Bring on the crazy!

Hi, sorry I've missed you. I've stepped off the planet for a little bit, but if you'd like to leave a message...

It's that time again. I'm headed to another 10 day meditation course, or "silent camp" as my friends call it. It's a chance for me to reboot myself and start anew when I get back in August. I will get back just in time to head back to school, where I will begin my new job teaching Kindergarten (remember my amazing new job and classroom?!), which in itself is a rebooting of my career. I feel like many things are turning over in these last 6 months of my 20's and it's very exciting. I watched my husband play all weekend with my baby niece Lilly, and can't help but look forward to starting my own family soon. So, I feel like this meditation course is the start of many new beginnings. And I'm pretty psyched about it.

One of the benefits of practicing meditation is learning to live in this moment, to observe all the good (and bad) that is now. And so before I get too wrapped up in the things to come, I have to remind myself to appreciate my life as it is today. Writer Terri Trespicio, contributor to this month's body + soul magazine had this to say about this July day:

"There's something slippery about summer. And that's the beauty of it: a season so moody and brilliant, so frivolously sensual and bold that it eludes your every effort to contain it. Instead, it wraps you in abundance, in swaths of sunlight and long, lazy hours- none of which is really ever yours to keep. Therein lies the lesson: While fall inspires nostalgia and winter a longing for warmth, summer has an endless amount to give, if only we can stand still and receive it. This season, resist the urge to control every last vestige of time. Instead, practice letting life spin around you in bright, concentric circles, filling your attention with light."

And so, I wish for you the ability to stand still and receive all that summer (and any other day for that matter) has to offer. Get out of your own way, for even just a few minutes, and observe all the unnoticed amazing moments that slip in and out of your everyday. I will be trying as much when I step off the planet for a bit of perspective and restoration.

See you in a couple of weeks!

SYTYCD, week 8 and beyond

Though Tyce Diorio's piece about breast cancer, danced by Ade and Melissa, was a beautiful contemporary piece and the sentimental favorite of the night, my personal pick was quite the opposite. Laurieann Gibson choreographed a pop jazz piece that had no story, no gimmick, and very little partner interaction. Yet, the choreography was dynamic and Jeanine and Brandon performed it with so much precision and strength that it gets my vote. It was an awesome piece.
Also, you all know how I feel about Kayla, but Jeanine has been sneaking up as the finale comes closer. As brilliant as Brandon is, I found myself unable to look away from Jeanine. I'm really digging her right now, and may change my vote. I know! Shocking news, right?!

Now, I will be out of town for the next two weeks (see next blog :) and will miss the finale (which means I won't be able to vote for Kayla or Jeanine- sad!). Watching the missed episodes will be at the top of my list upon returning, but in the meantime, there better not be anyone sending me emails or texts saying, "OMG! Can you believe ____ won?!" Because I might mortally wound whoever who makes that mistake. I will post my own OMG! reaction after I've watched the finale. That will be your cue to start commenting away. Until then, mum's the word.

Enjoy, dance fans!