Operation Merry Fishtank is nearing completion. Right on schedule. Even ahead by a day or so. My favorite decoration this year is my fireplace- new and improved for those of you who followed along with the fireplace saga earlier in the year. Pictures posted later.
Here was my favorite decoration last year. I am amused to say that it is even more laden this year and is beginning to look a little ridiculous. I give The Scientist a new ornament for it every year in his stocking and last year's was a three-fer. Three matching CU football helmet ornaments. If I weren't so attached to this one, I'd say we were going to need a bigger tree!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Operation Merry Fishtank
'Tis the season. I know this evokes lots of strong opinions. Some of you are horrified. "It's not even Thanksgiving yet, woman!" Others of you are seeing me as a kindred holiday spirit. Among those in the know, it is no secret that I am in the beginning stages of decorating for Christmas. The wreath isn't hung yet and we do a real tree, so that won't go up for awhile, but the groundwork is currently being laid for these things to happen. Here's how this process used to go a few years ago:
I would eagerly await the day after Thanksgiving so that I could start getting my decorations out. However, I am a social lemming, so I would never actually do this on Black Friday. I was at the malls. So, it waited until the day after the day after Thanksgiving. Which is always a huge football day, and we were too busy eating nachos and cheering or cursing, depending on the game(s). Then Sunday was here and nothing can ever get done on Sunday. Monday would come after that and the children were back in school and the official holiday maddness and Christmas countdown would officially begin. Maddness, I tell you. Pajama days at school, presents to buy. Cookie exchanges. Parties. Parties. Parties. Somewhere in there, I would start getting the decorations down from the attic. A big box would come down. I would race to get the stuff into it's appropriate place while the kids were occupied with a game or school. All the stuff that was now displaced in the house would get shoved into a closet or nook or cranny, awaiting the end of the maddness and it's return to rightful place on the mantle (or armoire, or side table or hallway wall). Invariably, this pattern would continue right up until the week of Christmas, at which point, I began hauling boxes down in a frenzy, throwing decorations up left and right and feeling guilty all the time that I hadn't done it sooner and that now we only had a short time to enjoy it and that my family didn't have a calm, cool and together mommy at the holiday helm.
None of this was joyful. It wasn't merry. It wasn't worshipful. It wasn't calm or bright.
It was crazy and frantic and all things that I never wanted my Christmas to be about.
So, Clemsongirl and I developed a plan a few weeks ago that I am eagerly and currently implementing. Here's how it works:
Today (yes, TODAY!)- the garage gets de-cluttered. I'm using this term pretty loosely because we are not un-cluttered garage type people. We are not European or South American. Therefore we don't park our cars in the garage. We store things there. So, really, it's a loose organization of the stuff we intend to be there. That loose collection of stuff has been organized (loosely, of course) and things that have been waiting in the launch-pad area to go up to the attic have been put up there. This is all in preparation for...
Friday- Christmas boxes are brought down from the attic and placed in a now cleared out area of the garage we will refer to as the "staging area." They will not be touched. Just brought down. This must be done this day because I will have the morning to myself with no children except Red Fish.
Sunday- Surface decluttering takes place and fall decorations come down. Anything that must be moved to make room for Christmas decor will be moved. Where? Not sure yet. Probably a big ol' box that will also be put in the "staging area." This is to prepare for...
Monday- The Most Wonderful Woman in the World (AKA- my cleaning lady) arrives. She cleans the now uncluttered surfaces and gives the house it's monthly thorough once over (Yes, monthly. Stop judging).
Tuesday- I teach in the morning (saying that still hasn't gotten old). In the afternoon, while Redfish sleeps and prior to school pick-up, I will begin putting up the decorations onto the clean and neat surfaces.
Wednesday- continue process from Tuesday.
Thurs- put empty-ish boxes back into attic. Boxes will have been re-packed with things that were removed to make room.
Friday- Thanksgiving feasts at both schools. Packing for...
Saturday- We leave for SC and will be gone until the Monday after Thanksgiving at which point...
We return to a schedule that will be wild until Christmas and a house that is ready to handle it! Voila! Now, won't it be fun to see how many excuses I can come up with for why this didn't happen as planned?
I would eagerly await the day after Thanksgiving so that I could start getting my decorations out. However, I am a social lemming, so I would never actually do this on Black Friday. I was at the malls. So, it waited until the day after the day after Thanksgiving. Which is always a huge football day, and we were too busy eating nachos and cheering or cursing, depending on the game(s). Then Sunday was here and nothing can ever get done on Sunday. Monday would come after that and the children were back in school and the official holiday maddness and Christmas countdown would officially begin. Maddness, I tell you. Pajama days at school, presents to buy. Cookie exchanges. Parties. Parties. Parties. Somewhere in there, I would start getting the decorations down from the attic. A big box would come down. I would race to get the stuff into it's appropriate place while the kids were occupied with a game or school. All the stuff that was now displaced in the house would get shoved into a closet or nook or cranny, awaiting the end of the maddness and it's return to rightful place on the mantle (or armoire, or side table or hallway wall). Invariably, this pattern would continue right up until the week of Christmas, at which point, I began hauling boxes down in a frenzy, throwing decorations up left and right and feeling guilty all the time that I hadn't done it sooner and that now we only had a short time to enjoy it and that my family didn't have a calm, cool and together mommy at the holiday helm.
None of this was joyful. It wasn't merry. It wasn't worshipful. It wasn't calm or bright.
It was crazy and frantic and all things that I never wanted my Christmas to be about.
So, Clemsongirl and I developed a plan a few weeks ago that I am eagerly and currently implementing. Here's how it works:
Today (yes, TODAY!)- the garage gets de-cluttered. I'm using this term pretty loosely because we are not un-cluttered garage type people. We are not European or South American. Therefore we don't park our cars in the garage. We store things there. So, really, it's a loose organization of the stuff we intend to be there. That loose collection of stuff has been organized (loosely, of course) and things that have been waiting in the launch-pad area to go up to the attic have been put up there. This is all in preparation for...
Friday- Christmas boxes are brought down from the attic and placed in a now cleared out area of the garage we will refer to as the "staging area." They will not be touched. Just brought down. This must be done this day because I will have the morning to myself with no children except Red Fish.
Sunday- Surface decluttering takes place and fall decorations come down. Anything that must be moved to make room for Christmas decor will be moved. Where? Not sure yet. Probably a big ol' box that will also be put in the "staging area." This is to prepare for...
Monday- The Most Wonderful Woman in the World (AKA- my cleaning lady) arrives. She cleans the now uncluttered surfaces and gives the house it's monthly thorough once over (Yes, monthly. Stop judging).
Tuesday- I teach in the morning (saying that still hasn't gotten old). In the afternoon, while Redfish sleeps and prior to school pick-up, I will begin putting up the decorations onto the clean and neat surfaces.
Wednesday- continue process from Tuesday.
Thurs- put empty-ish boxes back into attic. Boxes will have been re-packed with things that were removed to make room.
Friday- Thanksgiving feasts at both schools. Packing for...
Saturday- We leave for SC and will be gone until the Monday after Thanksgiving at which point...
We return to a schedule that will be wild until Christmas and a house that is ready to handle it! Voila! Now, won't it be fun to see how many excuses I can come up with for why this didn't happen as planned?
Monday, November 9, 2009
Trying to Reason With Hurricane Season
For those of you who have enough sense not to live at the ocean, hurricane season runs from June through November. Technically. Those of us who live here know that on paper it is six months long, but the reality is that as soon as the weather starts to cool, we can breathe a sigh of relief. So, I was breathing easier as of Halloween this year. Hurricanes are "fueled" by warm water and don't do well in cooler conditions. So, the November deadline is just to be on the safe side...or so we thought.
Hurricane Ida is aiming for us and I have my Thanksgiving decorations out. It just doesn't seem right.
I am not a girl to sit around and mope about a weather system I cannot control (although, The Scientist would argue that if a weather system could be controlled, I would be the girl to do it). So, I did what every other red-blooded American does during severe weather (like a mild snow flurry) and got my tail to the grocery store.
The beer was going fast. Thank goodness I needed Woodchuck cider. The ground beef and Bunny bread were flying off the shelves. Lucky for the rednecks behind me in the pre-hurricane supermarket buggy derby, that I didn't need beef or bread. Just Fontina cheese and roasted macadamia nuts for me, thanks. I threw in a few bags of Louisiana satsumas and some organic spinach and then bypassed the battery and bottled water aisles in favor of the aisle containing the all-important pomagranate-apple cider and the feta cheese. One bag of Fritos Scoops later, I was stocked up and prepared for Ida- whatever she may bring.
Wish us luck.
Hurricane Ida is aiming for us and I have my Thanksgiving decorations out. It just doesn't seem right.
I am not a girl to sit around and mope about a weather system I cannot control (although, The Scientist would argue that if a weather system could be controlled, I would be the girl to do it). So, I did what every other red-blooded American does during severe weather (like a mild snow flurry) and got my tail to the grocery store.
The beer was going fast. Thank goodness I needed Woodchuck cider. The ground beef and Bunny bread were flying off the shelves. Lucky for the rednecks behind me in the pre-hurricane supermarket buggy derby, that I didn't need beef or bread. Just Fontina cheese and roasted macadamia nuts for me, thanks. I threw in a few bags of Louisiana satsumas and some organic spinach and then bypassed the battery and bottled water aisles in favor of the aisle containing the all-important pomagranate-apple cider and the feta cheese. One bag of Fritos Scoops later, I was stocked up and prepared for Ida- whatever she may bring.
Wish us luck.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Hello, Long Lost Friend!
You're all right, of course. All of you who have been so kindly harrassing me via e-mail about my failure to blog. What you don't see is that this blog has become a very old friend- the one you know you need to catch up with and desperately WANT to catch up with, but the one you know will take a 3 hour phone conversation to fully catch up to. But, I'm vowing to chip away a bit at that phone conversation right now and reintroduce myself.
So, hello, old friend!
During our lapse in programming, I've been swimming with my head above water, but it hasn't necessarily been pretty. When we left off, I as headed back to work parttime. I dove back into the classroom at the end of August and have, quite frankly, felt like the luckiest girl in the world ever since. It was just like I remembered! The students are just as delightful and different from one another as they used to be. I've always loved the subject area and I think I love it even more now that I haven't been teaching it for so long. The technology has changed a bit (I was excited to have an overhead projector in my classroom the last time I taught!). Now, I lecture from Power Point slides and can post them online for any student who would like to print them. Strangely, you'd think the lazy ones would be the ones doing this. It's not. It's the on-the-ball students. The lazy ones didn't take notes back when I started teaching and they sure as hell don't print Power Point slides ahead of time now.
Here are a few of my observations since I was in the classroom 7 years ago.
1) It pains me to write this, but in the interest of full disclosure, I'll say it: I'm not as cute as I used to be. Not as young either. In a way, this is a benefit as it's easier for a 30-something to listen to me than to a 20-something for several hours a night.
2) With #1 out there, I'll also note that I have enjoyed doing what I can to maintain my street cred. New, cute shoes. Going through make-up a bit faster than I used to. No guilt about picking up some new threads when I see them. When you get right down to it, no one wants to listen to me (or anyone, for that matter) for 5 hours a week. It seems really wrong to have to listen to me if I'm ugly and fashionably challenged on top of it. So, I do what I can.
3) These modern students HUG a bit more than I think they used to and have more boundary issues in general. We've had to work on this as I do not particulary care for the assault on my personal space and have had to come up with repelling methods to avoid this at all costs. Hugs from my babies, immediate family members and friends= great! Hugs from Random Student I see at the park on a Saturday afternoon=weird! I also have had to discourage "text speak" messages being left on the class blog. "FML" is not an appropriate response to the newly posted study guide for the upcoming exam. Thank God for comment moderation.
4) What's up with the laptops in the classroom? I'm going to have to get a bit more savvy next semester. I can't tell when they're taking notes and when they're Facebooking someone. It also begs the question of whether or not I care...
5) I don't think I ever excused a grade on a test by saying I was hungover. This has been a new one for me. Not that this has never been true- I just wouldn't ever have said it out loud for heaven's sake!
6) They let ANYONE into community college. And I'll just leave that there for now.
So, hello, old friend!
During our lapse in programming, I've been swimming with my head above water, but it hasn't necessarily been pretty. When we left off, I as headed back to work parttime. I dove back into the classroom at the end of August and have, quite frankly, felt like the luckiest girl in the world ever since. It was just like I remembered! The students are just as delightful and different from one another as they used to be. I've always loved the subject area and I think I love it even more now that I haven't been teaching it for so long. The technology has changed a bit (I was excited to have an overhead projector in my classroom the last time I taught!). Now, I lecture from Power Point slides and can post them online for any student who would like to print them. Strangely, you'd think the lazy ones would be the ones doing this. It's not. It's the on-the-ball students. The lazy ones didn't take notes back when I started teaching and they sure as hell don't print Power Point slides ahead of time now.
Here are a few of my observations since I was in the classroom 7 years ago.
1) It pains me to write this, but in the interest of full disclosure, I'll say it: I'm not as cute as I used to be. Not as young either. In a way, this is a benefit as it's easier for a 30-something to listen to me than to a 20-something for several hours a night.
2) With #1 out there, I'll also note that I have enjoyed doing what I can to maintain my street cred. New, cute shoes. Going through make-up a bit faster than I used to. No guilt about picking up some new threads when I see them. When you get right down to it, no one wants to listen to me (or anyone, for that matter) for 5 hours a week. It seems really wrong to have to listen to me if I'm ugly and fashionably challenged on top of it. So, I do what I can.
3) These modern students HUG a bit more than I think they used to and have more boundary issues in general. We've had to work on this as I do not particulary care for the assault on my personal space and have had to come up with repelling methods to avoid this at all costs. Hugs from my babies, immediate family members and friends= great! Hugs from Random Student I see at the park on a Saturday afternoon=weird! I also have had to discourage "text speak" messages being left on the class blog. "FML" is not an appropriate response to the newly posted study guide for the upcoming exam. Thank God for comment moderation.
4) What's up with the laptops in the classroom? I'm going to have to get a bit more savvy next semester. I can't tell when they're taking notes and when they're Facebooking someone. It also begs the question of whether or not I care...
5) I don't think I ever excused a grade on a test by saying I was hungover. This has been a new one for me. Not that this has never been true- I just wouldn't ever have said it out loud for heaven's sake!
6) They let ANYONE into community college. And I'll just leave that there for now.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
You might be a redneck if...
The Fishies are really into fake tattoos. I hate them. They have no sense of positioning and invariably choose to put them in the most conspicuous places on their bodies. Or the least conspicuous but also least appropriate. Like when Two Fish put a general's insignia tattoo on his... well, suffice it to say that The Scientist and I are still joking about the Little General and probably will for a good long while. At least until he becomes a father himself. Maybe longer.
Today, I vowed for the 100th time to banish the dang things from my house. One Fish, Red Fish and I went to a b-day party at a local splash park. It wasn't until I stripped Red Fish down to his swim trunks did I notice that he had been tattooed by his older brother. At least until he wiggled away and Two Fish was evidently forced to abort the mission.
I was the mom with the gleeful two year old with
ROCK AND R
in big red letters emblazoned across his back. They won't forget us there.
Today, I vowed for the 100th time to banish the dang things from my house. One Fish, Red Fish and I went to a b-day party at a local splash park. It wasn't until I stripped Red Fish down to his swim trunks did I notice that he had been tattooed by his older brother. At least until he wiggled away and Two Fish was evidently forced to abort the mission.
I was the mom with the gleeful two year old with
ROCK AND R
in big red letters emblazoned across his back. They won't forget us there.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Didn't See That Coming
Coming out of kindergarten open house this morning, in the pouring rain, I put my foot down on the step about 4 from the bottom and slipped. Not stumbled. Not skidded. My foot slid clear out from under me and suddenly I was on some sort of sitcom. As I hit every step on the way down I was thinking:
"Awww, crap, I can't believe I'm tripping on this step!"
"Really? Another step?"
"Why haven't I stopped yet?"
"What is this, step #3?"
Oh, geez- another one?! How many steps does this thing have, anyway?"
"OOOF! Yep, that last one'll leave a mark"
"Oh, thank God, I think I'm coming to a halt."
Red Fish, safely and securely perched on my hip, rode comfortably the whole way down. Didn't even fuss when I shlumped (heck, yes, that's a word!) him unceremoniously on the sidewalk after I confirmed that I wasn't dead yet- just surely in several pieces.
Lucky for me, my most sympathetic friend was the only one around at the moment and she raced to my rescue. Although she has an MD husband, his services were not required. We relatively quickly determined that 1) movement was a possibility and 2) that I was not going to throw up immediately.
Two Fish's comment after I finally spoke?
"He-he. Well, I didn't see THAT coming!"
The Scientist's comment when I got home?
"Were you wearing ridiculous shoes? Then I think you should see this as an opportunity for some fashion self-reflection"
He's lucky he said it with his cute smile on and that he was delivering Motrin and and and ice pack to me when he said it.
"Awww, crap, I can't believe I'm tripping on this step!"
"Really? Another step?"
"Why haven't I stopped yet?"
"What is this, step #3?"
Oh, geez- another one?! How many steps does this thing have, anyway?"
"OOOF! Yep, that last one'll leave a mark"
"Oh, thank God, I think I'm coming to a halt."
Red Fish, safely and securely perched on my hip, rode comfortably the whole way down. Didn't even fuss when I shlumped (heck, yes, that's a word!) him unceremoniously on the sidewalk after I confirmed that I wasn't dead yet- just surely in several pieces.
Lucky for me, my most sympathetic friend was the only one around at the moment and she raced to my rescue. Although she has an MD husband, his services were not required. We relatively quickly determined that 1) movement was a possibility and 2) that I was not going to throw up immediately.
Two Fish's comment after I finally spoke?
"He-he. Well, I didn't see THAT coming!"
The Scientist's comment when I got home?
"Were you wearing ridiculous shoes? Then I think you should see this as an opportunity for some fashion self-reflection"
He's lucky he said it with his cute smile on and that he was delivering Motrin and and and ice pack to me when he said it.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Back in the Saddle
Years ago and a million miles away from here, it seems, I was a teacher.
In college, I never imagined myself teaching. I was going to be a vet until it turned out that vets don't make nearly as much as their years of schooling would make you think. Then a doctor, I thought. But, I did know that I wanted a family at some point and realized that it would be really hard to be a doctor AND mom who was home with her children after school. After that, I decided that perhaps I just needed to "find myself" and applied to the Peace Corp and was accepted. I waited and waited and waited for them to decide where to send me. Finally, I decided that although I still probably needed to find myself, most likely I wasn't going to be found in either Africa or somewhere on a Pacific island.
So, I decided to go to nursing school (can you say "Identity Crisis?!"). I signed up to take some pre-req classes at the local community college that somehow I'd skated out of in college, but that would help me get into a nursing program for people who already had a four year degree. I loved anatomy and physiology and adored my professor (it didn't hurt that she was a fellow Clemson grad.) At the end of the semester, she asked me if I would be interested in teaching some labs at the college. Apparently, all you needed was a four year degree in biology in order to teach a lab.
I needed the money and it sounded new and interesting, so I filled out the paperwork, signed up for my next semester of pre-reqs and started prepping to teach my first lab.
A week later, I was hooked. Just like a junkie. While the classes I was taking were tolerable, I spent perhaps an unhealthy amount of time thinking about ways to teach my next labs. I stayed way too late. I invested way too much in the students. I researched ways to help them understand things like DNA replication. I was rediscovering my inner science geek and was loving every minute of it.
Three years later, I graduated with a Masters of Arts in Teaching Science from the university in town. Throughout grad school, I continued to teach at the community college, gaining experience and confidence and knowledge. After graduation, I focused on my full-time middle school science job.
I was good at it. I liked it and I loved the students and my coworkers. But, it wasn't the same at all as teaching at the community college. It's hard to stay passionate about your subject when the majority of your job consists of managing your classroom, going to meetings and filling out paperwork. All that stopped when we moved three states away and I finally got my dream of staying home with One Fish (and soon after, Two Fish).
This semester, I finally got my courage up and applied to teach at the local community college here. It's been a long time coming. I've spent the past few semesters wanting to apply, but wondering if they'd even want me. If I was even capable of writing a resume that wouldn't elicit giggles or eye rolls before a dump in the trashcan. Would they want someone who didn't have a masters in science, but a masters in teaching science instead? Would they like me? Did I still even "have it." Is 6 years too long to have been out of the classroom?
Turns out, that in an economy like this one, one of the few places where jobs are available is at community colleges. People out of work often go back to school and enrollment goes up and more teachers are needed. Turns out they needed me. Better, yet- they WANTED me.
I got the course notes the other day and apprehensively peeked at them, hoping I wouldn't find that everything has changed in six years. It hasn't. It's just the same and I got goosebumps just flipping through those pages, reading those familiar words and phrases that haven't changed in decades. In my mind, I am imagining my students faces already. I know which parts of which concepts and theories they will stumble on. Which chapters will make their eyes glaze over if I'm not careful and which labs have the ability to light a spark that was never there before.
There are lots of things I don't know how to do in this world. Too many that I don't even have the courage to attempt. But, I do know how to teach biology. That, I can do. And I'm so incredibly thankful that I've gotten the chance again.
In college, I never imagined myself teaching. I was going to be a vet until it turned out that vets don't make nearly as much as their years of schooling would make you think. Then a doctor, I thought. But, I did know that I wanted a family at some point and realized that it would be really hard to be a doctor AND mom who was home with her children after school. After that, I decided that perhaps I just needed to "find myself" and applied to the Peace Corp and was accepted. I waited and waited and waited for them to decide where to send me. Finally, I decided that although I still probably needed to find myself, most likely I wasn't going to be found in either Africa or somewhere on a Pacific island.
So, I decided to go to nursing school (can you say "Identity Crisis?!"). I signed up to take some pre-req classes at the local community college that somehow I'd skated out of in college, but that would help me get into a nursing program for people who already had a four year degree. I loved anatomy and physiology and adored my professor (it didn't hurt that she was a fellow Clemson grad.) At the end of the semester, she asked me if I would be interested in teaching some labs at the college. Apparently, all you needed was a four year degree in biology in order to teach a lab.
I needed the money and it sounded new and interesting, so I filled out the paperwork, signed up for my next semester of pre-reqs and started prepping to teach my first lab.
A week later, I was hooked. Just like a junkie. While the classes I was taking were tolerable, I spent perhaps an unhealthy amount of time thinking about ways to teach my next labs. I stayed way too late. I invested way too much in the students. I researched ways to help them understand things like DNA replication. I was rediscovering my inner science geek and was loving every minute of it.
Three years later, I graduated with a Masters of Arts in Teaching Science from the university in town. Throughout grad school, I continued to teach at the community college, gaining experience and confidence and knowledge. After graduation, I focused on my full-time middle school science job.
I was good at it. I liked it and I loved the students and my coworkers. But, it wasn't the same at all as teaching at the community college. It's hard to stay passionate about your subject when the majority of your job consists of managing your classroom, going to meetings and filling out paperwork. All that stopped when we moved three states away and I finally got my dream of staying home with One Fish (and soon after, Two Fish).
This semester, I finally got my courage up and applied to teach at the local community college here. It's been a long time coming. I've spent the past few semesters wanting to apply, but wondering if they'd even want me. If I was even capable of writing a resume that wouldn't elicit giggles or eye rolls before a dump in the trashcan. Would they want someone who didn't have a masters in science, but a masters in teaching science instead? Would they like me? Did I still even "have it." Is 6 years too long to have been out of the classroom?
Turns out, that in an economy like this one, one of the few places where jobs are available is at community colleges. People out of work often go back to school and enrollment goes up and more teachers are needed. Turns out they needed me. Better, yet- they WANTED me.
I got the course notes the other day and apprehensively peeked at them, hoping I wouldn't find that everything has changed in six years. It hasn't. It's just the same and I got goosebumps just flipping through those pages, reading those familiar words and phrases that haven't changed in decades. In my mind, I am imagining my students faces already. I know which parts of which concepts and theories they will stumble on. Which chapters will make their eyes glaze over if I'm not careful and which labs have the ability to light a spark that was never there before.
There are lots of things I don't know how to do in this world. Too many that I don't even have the courage to attempt. But, I do know how to teach biology. That, I can do. And I'm so incredibly thankful that I've gotten the chance again.
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