Today was about as close to perfect as a summer day can get. When I sat in my classroom dreaming of summer vacation, today is what I imagined. Connor and I started the day by going to the zoo with my good friend Sarah and her two little ones. The weather was perfect, the adult conversation is just what I needed, and both one and half year old boys behaved perfectly (how often does that happen??). When we got home, Connor napped and I cleaned our bedroom closet--which was much overdue. We spent the afternoon running through the sprinkler, blowing bubbles, and playing at the park. A taco dinner with my hubby and son rounded out the perfect day.
It is days like today that remind me just how blessed I am. Being a teacher is truly my calling, and I love my job. Not only do I get to be inspired by young people at work, I also have a schedule that allows me to feel as though I am raising my own child. Even during the school year, Connor is only without a parent for about 6 hours a day. I am home by 3:00 most days and have so many days off. It doesn't get much better.
With the cost of daycare (and LIVING right now....), I have seriously thought a lot about other job options. Teachers don't get paid very well, and Catholic school teachers get paid even less (after 7 years I am finally making what I would have made my first year in a public school). I have considered just staying home and getting a part-time evening job, applying at public schools, doing daycare, or looking at a different field altogether. But I don't want to. I love what I do and I think that is worth SO MUCH.
I wish I could bottle up today and save it for days that money stress starts getting me down. It was seriously perfection.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Motivation
Wow, it's been a while since I've posted. The end of the school year is always pure craziness...but now school is out for the summer and I get my reprieve! Thanks to Connor being an excellent napper now, I'll have a couple hours everyday to myself :) Whoo Hoo!
Motivation has never been one of my strong points, especially when it comes to exercising. I am not really an athlete, and working out isn't something I necessarily enjoy. Like most people, when I actually make myself do it, I feel good. It's the MAKING myself do it part that is hard for me.
When I was a freshman in high school, I decided to go out for the Cross Country team. My brother was on the team, and I was new to the school and thought it would be a good way to meet people. I had never really run more than a mile (required during the Presidential Fitness unit in gym class). Surprisingly, I was a natural runner. I ran varsity most of the season, and was the first alternate when the girls team went to state that year (luckily, I didn't have to run...I would have been eaten alive!). I also went out for track that year and HATED it. Running 8 laps around the hot track was nothing like running through wooded parks, as we had in cross country. Unfortunately, track turned me off to running, and I never went out for cross country again (sticking with things is another one of my weaknesses...).
So, this winter when I realized that I hadn't lost ANY "baby weight" since the initial 10 pounds I lost when Connor was born, I decided I needed to do something. When your child is 18 months old, you can hardly use pregnancy as an excuse anymore. I also have the big 3-0 vastly approaching, and think it's really time to start taking care of myself. So, my sister and I decided we would sign up for a 5k in July. That will be my motivation.
When school was still in session, it was very hard for me to get out for a run. The best time for me to work is out is first thing in the morning. The problem: I already get up at 5:30 every day as it is, and my motivation issues prevent me from being willing to get up any earlier. I have been very good about running on weekends, and plan on making it 5 times a week now that school is out. I am only up to about 1.5 miles at a time, so I have some work to do before July. But, considering I haven't run in 15 years, I feel pretty good about it. It still does come pretty naturally to me.
When I am out running, seeing other runners really helps motivate me. I don't want to look like an idiot, huffing and puffing and dragging my feet in front of them, so I glide on and gasp "good morning", like I am part of their club. This morning, I passed a girl who instead of saying "good morning", said "good job". Whether she says this to everyone or she could see through my facade, I will never know. What I do know is, it really gave me some motivation. Even if I am huffing and puffing and can only go a mile and a half, I am out there and that is what's important. I think I am doing a good job. So, to the "good job" girl, I say thank you. You were the motivation I needed this morning.
Motivation has never been one of my strong points, especially when it comes to exercising. I am not really an athlete, and working out isn't something I necessarily enjoy. Like most people, when I actually make myself do it, I feel good. It's the MAKING myself do it part that is hard for me.
When I was a freshman in high school, I decided to go out for the Cross Country team. My brother was on the team, and I was new to the school and thought it would be a good way to meet people. I had never really run more than a mile (required during the Presidential Fitness unit in gym class). Surprisingly, I was a natural runner. I ran varsity most of the season, and was the first alternate when the girls team went to state that year (luckily, I didn't have to run...I would have been eaten alive!). I also went out for track that year and HATED it. Running 8 laps around the hot track was nothing like running through wooded parks, as we had in cross country. Unfortunately, track turned me off to running, and I never went out for cross country again (sticking with things is another one of my weaknesses...).
So, this winter when I realized that I hadn't lost ANY "baby weight" since the initial 10 pounds I lost when Connor was born, I decided I needed to do something. When your child is 18 months old, you can hardly use pregnancy as an excuse anymore. I also have the big 3-0 vastly approaching, and think it's really time to start taking care of myself. So, my sister and I decided we would sign up for a 5k in July. That will be my motivation.
When school was still in session, it was very hard for me to get out for a run. The best time for me to work is out is first thing in the morning. The problem: I already get up at 5:30 every day as it is, and my motivation issues prevent me from being willing to get up any earlier. I have been very good about running on weekends, and plan on making it 5 times a week now that school is out. I am only up to about 1.5 miles at a time, so I have some work to do before July. But, considering I haven't run in 15 years, I feel pretty good about it. It still does come pretty naturally to me.
When I am out running, seeing other runners really helps motivate me. I don't want to look like an idiot, huffing and puffing and dragging my feet in front of them, so I glide on and gasp "good morning", like I am part of their club. This morning, I passed a girl who instead of saying "good morning", said "good job". Whether she says this to everyone or she could see through my facade, I will never know. What I do know is, it really gave me some motivation. Even if I am huffing and puffing and can only go a mile and a half, I am out there and that is what's important. I think I am doing a good job. So, to the "good job" girl, I say thank you. You were the motivation I needed this morning.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
18 months
Today, my son turned 18 months. I can't believe it's be a whole year and a half, and I can't believe it's been ONLY a year and a half. Having a child completely changes one's life, and sometimes it's hard to remember what life was like before, so even though time is flying by, it also feels like a lifetime since I became a mother.
My baby is no longer a baby. Kids technically become toddlers on their first birthday, but it wasn't until recently that I have really considered Connor to be one. Besides the usual physical changes and milestones, there have been other incidents lately that have really made me realize he is growing up. For example, on Friday night, he showed embarrassment for the first time. We were over at my mom's house for dinner, along with another couple, and Connor was trying to be a good boy and put his cup back up on the counter when he was done with it (he has a strong sense of order and doesn't like to just throw it on the floor), but he couldn't quite reach. Every time he lifted the cup in an attempt to set it up there, water would splash out onto his face. I finally said, "Grammy, Connor is trying to get his cup back on the counter and it keeps splashing him in the face". Once the cup was finally in place, thanks to Grammy's help, he turned around and his face was covered in drips of water. We all laughed, and Connor started crying and buried his head in his daddy's lap. He was embarrassed that we laughed at him! What a big boy.
He also has started to play innocent after doing something naughty. On Wednesday, again at Grammy's house, he was playing with the buttons on the stereo (which he knows not to do), when he accidentally turned the stereo off. When Grammy started to scold him, he meandered away, looking down, muttering to himself, as if to say "la de da, nothing to see here!" How do kids learn to do that??? What a big boy.
Today was another time when I realized just how far we've come. For the first 5 months or so of life, Connor had really bad reflux, which made sleeping and napping difficult. In fact, until about 13 months, he was the worst napper of all time. If I finally got him to sleep, I would run around like a crazy woman getting as much done as I could in 20 minutes, because that was about all the time I could count on him sleeping. Anything beyond a half hour was bonus time. A few months ago, Connor just decided for himself to go down to one nap, and it's a long one--2 to 3 hours usually. So, today while Connor was napping, I brought the monitor outside and potted my plants and weeded and mulched the garden. Last year at this time I would have been nervous about running out to get the mail while he was sleeping. I guess we've both come a long way.
The past 18 months have been a time of change (and stress!), but the most fulfilling 18 months of my life. I am so proud of my son, and I can't wait to watch him grow for the rest of my life. I am blessed.
My baby is no longer a baby. Kids technically become toddlers on their first birthday, but it wasn't until recently that I have really considered Connor to be one. Besides the usual physical changes and milestones, there have been other incidents lately that have really made me realize he is growing up. For example, on Friday night, he showed embarrassment for the first time. We were over at my mom's house for dinner, along with another couple, and Connor was trying to be a good boy and put his cup back up on the counter when he was done with it (he has a strong sense of order and doesn't like to just throw it on the floor), but he couldn't quite reach. Every time he lifted the cup in an attempt to set it up there, water would splash out onto his face. I finally said, "Grammy, Connor is trying to get his cup back on the counter and it keeps splashing him in the face". Once the cup was finally in place, thanks to Grammy's help, he turned around and his face was covered in drips of water. We all laughed, and Connor started crying and buried his head in his daddy's lap. He was embarrassed that we laughed at him! What a big boy.
He also has started to play innocent after doing something naughty. On Wednesday, again at Grammy's house, he was playing with the buttons on the stereo (which he knows not to do), when he accidentally turned the stereo off. When Grammy started to scold him, he meandered away, looking down, muttering to himself, as if to say "la de da, nothing to see here!" How do kids learn to do that??? What a big boy.
Today was another time when I realized just how far we've come. For the first 5 months or so of life, Connor had really bad reflux, which made sleeping and napping difficult. In fact, until about 13 months, he was the worst napper of all time. If I finally got him to sleep, I would run around like a crazy woman getting as much done as I could in 20 minutes, because that was about all the time I could count on him sleeping. Anything beyond a half hour was bonus time. A few months ago, Connor just decided for himself to go down to one nap, and it's a long one--2 to 3 hours usually. So, today while Connor was napping, I brought the monitor outside and potted my plants and weeded and mulched the garden. Last year at this time I would have been nervous about running out to get the mail while he was sleeping. I guess we've both come a long way.
The past 18 months have been a time of change (and stress!), but the most fulfilling 18 months of my life. I am so proud of my son, and I can't wait to watch him grow for the rest of my life. I am blessed.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Doing Dishes
Doing dishes used to be a chore I abhorred. I am tired by the end of the day. Making dinner is enough of a hassle, and then I have to do the dishes AFTER dinner? I know that in some households, the person who makes dinner is excused from washing the dishes. Sounds fair. I, however, usually make dinner AND do the dishes. Don't think poorly of the hubby, though. He is willing and would do them if I asked--he even offers sometimes. But, I usually prefer to do them myself. At first, my reason for this was because I am quicker, more efficient, and use less soap :) Since becoming a mom, though, my reasons for wanting to do the dishes have changed. First of all, if I am doing the dishes, Mike takes care of Connor, giving me a much needed break from him. I love my son, but by dinner time, I am usually ready to let Daddy take over. Lately, I have realized that doing dishes helps me unwind, and gives me a little "me" time. Even more recently, I have found yet ANOTHER reason to like doing the dishes....listening to the two loves of my life playing together. I usually have dinner ready and waiting when Mike gets home from work, which means that after dinner is prime father-son play time. While I stand in the kitchen unwinding, I can choose to tune into the sounds of this play time happening downstairs. I am so proud of the father that my husband has become, and listening to him and Connor scream and laugh together brings joy to my heart. So, doing dishes has morphed from an abhorred chore into a time of reflection for me. I am blessed. Now, if only cleaning the bathroom had the same effect....
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Men and Sports
One of life's great mysteries....at least in my opinion. My husband just shaved off his hockey "play-off beard". What kind of team is he on, you ask? He isn't on a team. It wasn't even for the team he coaches. It was for the North Dakota Fighting Sioux. One of my favorite things to do with Mike is attend sporting events. We love going to Twins games and Fighting Sioux games whenever the pocketbook allows. I like the atmosphere, the food, the people watching, and sharing in one of my husband's passions. But I will never understand why men think that what jersey THEY wear to the game will affect the outcome. And how does my husband's facial hair possibly impact a team on which he knows no one? For that matter, how does the players' facial hair impact their game? WHAT DOES FACIAL HAIR HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?!?! (Sorry about that little rant, I just really don't understand...) Mike had a play-off beard the night I met him (actually, it was a well-groomed goatee that year....good thing, because if it was a full-on neck beard like this year, I don't think we'd be where we are today...), so his devotion to sports shouldn't be a surprise to me. I guess we'll just chalk it up to one of the differences between men and women. Or maybe I'm just jealous of that passion. All I know is that every year, probably for as long as we both shall live, I will have a hairy husband in the month of March. And I guess I'm okay with that.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Identity
This is my first-ever blog post. I have been thinking about blogging for a while, just because I like to write. When you are in school, you have plenty of opportunities to write....many of which I put off, complained about, etc. But, once you're done with school, when do you have the opportunity? Writing is something that has always come pretty naturally to me, so I feel as though I am wasting a talent if I don't use it. And I don't have so many talents that I can afford to waste a single one. I don't know if anyone will ever read this blog, but aren't most blogs a selfish thing? What can be more self-centered than thinking your life is so interesting people will want to read about it?
Deciding the topic for my first-ever blog post was a challenge. When I become an award-winning blogger, people will want to see how it all started! Such pressure!
I decided I should probably start by writing about who I am, and that got me thinking about identity. How should I describe myself? I'm Mike's wife, Connor's mom, a middle school teacher. But people always say you should really know yourself....not as someone's daughter, wife, or mother....but the REAL you. What if being a daughter, wife, mother, and teacher IS the real me? I wouldn't be ME if it weren't for all those roles.
People started telling me I should be a teacher when I was 8 years old and doing flashcards with my sister and the other daycare kids. I tried to rebel and pick a different major when I was a freshman, but it didn't stick. I knew what my calling was (as did everyone else, apparently). SO, isn't being a teacher part of me? In high school, my best friend was afraid to tell me when she got her tongue pierced. In college, some of my roomies affectionately (??) called me "mom". SO, isn't being a mom just naturally part of who I am?
I don't know if I buy into that philosophy that you shouldn't be defined by your roles. I am proud of my roles. I feel as if I was meant to fill all of those roles. So...who am I? Just a Midwestern wife, mother, daughter, and teacher who likes to write. Welcome to my blog.
Deciding the topic for my first-ever blog post was a challenge. When I become an award-winning blogger, people will want to see how it all started! Such pressure!
I decided I should probably start by writing about who I am, and that got me thinking about identity. How should I describe myself? I'm Mike's wife, Connor's mom, a middle school teacher. But people always say you should really know yourself....not as someone's daughter, wife, or mother....but the REAL you. What if being a daughter, wife, mother, and teacher IS the real me? I wouldn't be ME if it weren't for all those roles.
People started telling me I should be a teacher when I was 8 years old and doing flashcards with my sister and the other daycare kids. I tried to rebel and pick a different major when I was a freshman, but it didn't stick. I knew what my calling was (as did everyone else, apparently). SO, isn't being a teacher part of me? In high school, my best friend was afraid to tell me when she got her tongue pierced. In college, some of my roomies affectionately (??) called me "mom". SO, isn't being a mom just naturally part of who I am?
I don't know if I buy into that philosophy that you shouldn't be defined by your roles. I am proud of my roles. I feel as if I was meant to fill all of those roles. So...who am I? Just a Midwestern wife, mother, daughter, and teacher who likes to write. Welcome to my blog.
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