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?!