The Next Time Someone Says....

Upon hearing that I teach, a new acquaintance said"How nice you get your summers off". I think I'm going to spit nails at the next person who says that to me.
Lemme 'splain:
During one of the neverending administrative meetings held this past week (during perfectly good planning time, I might add), I did the math. "What math?" you ask. Ahh but let me enlighten you.
Teachers work with students an average of around 60 hours a week, 36 weeks a year (this does not include the pre-service week or the built in planning days). Forty of those hours are at school, of course, and the rest are on teachers' own time. (I know cuz I took a poll among my colleagues). That turns out to be 2160 hours per year. An average full time employee works 40 hours a week, 50 weeks of the year, which equals 2000 hours.
The hours aren't that different, but the pay is. All 2160 hours are squeezed into a 36 week period which means I only get paid for 10 months out of the year. Why doesn't society value what educators do enough to pay appropriately for it? Where do people get the idea that teaching is a cushy job with lots of time off?

Settling In

The idea of going back to school is settling in. I've planned the first week for each of my classes, and I have an idea of where to go from there, so I guess things are good. This is inspite of having 21 more students than I did last year. Class size has increased by about 25% - last year my class were no bigger than 20 students. This year, there are 25 or 26 students in each one of my five classes. Ouch.

MIL is still here - until Thursday. She took the kids and my husband out of town for the weekend, while I stayed here to get some work done. I'm as finished as I can be, so today I'm going shopping by myself. BY MYSELF. Does anyone know how monumental this is? Normally, I have to take at least one of the children with me when I shop, which means I do a lot of internet shopping.......Anyway, today I won't have to bribe anyone to be good by buying him a cookie, or listen to anyone else complain about how bored she is.

Slip Slidin' Away

I can feel myself slipping under the the weight of overwhelming disappointments that await. All of these opportunities, responsibilities and activities sit infront of me - just waiting for me to fail them.

At the faculty meeting on Monday, we were told that during the coming school year, we would be gathering in "learning communities" during our "planning" periods. I love the idea of talking with my colleagues about teaching - don't get me wrong - but why can't the gathering time come out of "duty period"? That means each week, I will have 3 hours to plan, grade, and complete other administrative b.s. while I will have 23 hours of teaching, 10 hours of study hall duty, 1 hour of lunch duty and 3 hours of "learning community". Good Lord, just take my veins. I'm already bleeding dry and students haven't even arrived.

Mother-In-Law is visiting this week and providing child care while I'm in school but the kids are not. Monday, when I came home, she had set the table, done my laundry, taken my dog to the vet, and re-run the dishwasher because "there was still schmutz on the dishes". It's helpful and all, but I can't help feel like she's doing it because I'm woefully incompetent by her estimation.

When I came home yesterday afternoon, both of the children were still in their pajamas watching PBS kids. They hadn't moved all day. MIL was reading "Under the Banner of Heaven" - a great read about the weirdness of mormonism by the way. I couldn't put it down either when I read it last year. But really - PBS kids all frikken day?

Around dinner time, the children were bouncing off the walls. Mother-In-Law was irritated with them for misbehaving, and I wanted to say "It's your own damn fault for letting them watch tv all day". I decided to take them to the play area inside the mall, outside wasn't really an option because it was raining. But MIL wanted to wait for my husband to get home before we went anywhere. She doesn't seem to understand that he is a medical resident who NEVER COMES HOME. That's why they call him a "resident": he resides at the hospital! When he finally came home around 10:30 pm, his beeper sounded almost every 10 minutes. In between the beeps, she regaled him with the misdeeds of his children (in other words, a commentary on my mothering).

I cried myself to sleep last night. I'm tired of being a disappointment to myself and everyone I love. I'm tired of having lofty ideas and expectations punctured by my lack of ability. It's like I have the opposite of Midas touch. Everything I touch turns to shit.

So this is how I'm starting my school year. Aren't you glad your kid isn't in my class?

I wish there were a pill for this

I'm filled with a dull sense of dread that school starts in a week. What the hell happened to "See you in September?"Not that starting school in September would do anything besides delay the inevitable. What is it that I dread, exactly?
1. Grading, Planning, and Teaching simultaneously. Each one of those responsibilities could rack up 40 hours a week 50 weeks a year.
2. Being treated like an imbecile by parents who have confused their child with the Hope Diamond
3. Feeling like a fraud. Like I don't have a clue what the hell I'm doing, and EVERYONE can see what a horrid job I'm doing faking it.
4. Knowing that I'm burned out after only 5 years of teaching
5. Not having enough energy to enjoy the children I brought into the world.

I just realized

that DD is going to be 8 years old in the next few months, and I shared this observation with DH yesterday over coffee.
"I predict," I continued, "that we will get a flurry of phone calls trying to get her baptized on her 8th birthday."
"Umhmm" he nodded. DH just looked at me like I was the paranoid schizophrenic he always feared I was....
About an hour or so later, the phone rang. It was one of my "church friends". She and I probably never would have met except for church, and since I stopped going (over a year ago), I haven't heard anything from her. It's not like we were best friends or anything.
She was just calling to see if I would like to go see a movie with the "girls" from church later in the afternoon.
Should I go? Should I not? I argued with myself for about a milisecond. It seems harmless enough, but I just don't even want to go near that territory. I don't want to explain how I came to my postition of unbelief, and I don't want to feel awkward that I'm not who she thought I was or who I should be. I don't want to open any kind of doors or windows of opportunity for her to "reactivate" me, or to have a "missionary experience" - just in time for DD's 8th birthday. Maybe I am paranoid, but I've spent a good bit of time trying to heal from the devastating discovery of lies and half-truths the Mormon church has been teaching me for the last 30 years of my life. My wounds are still raw - I don't really feel strong enough to be friends with a former "church friend" when we don't have anything else in common, and now we no longer have the church in common either.

Things I absolutely love or hate

Things I Love:

• Vanilla Frappucino
• Having a zit-free complexion
• Max and Grace's belly laugh
• that I actually enjoy running. Who knew?
• when my kids sing along to music in the car - it's even more loveable when they sing along to Pink Martini
• the endless possibilities in a book store
• Magic Shell
• High speed internet

Things I hate:

• Shania Twain's electronically "enhanced" music (and I use the term music loosely)
• Getting a message to call someone I really don't want to talk to
• RoadKill
• The credit card bill and the look on my husband's face when he reads it
• That I'm addicted to Diet Coke
• Commercials - I so want TiVo
• wearing glasses
• zits

If You Can't Lose It, Tan It

Even though I'm running 8 mi/week now (remember: 3 months ago, the only exercise I got was from opening the fridge door and digging for something yummy), I still haven't lost much weight. Still wearing the same size that I was in June. Arrrrgh.
So, my mantra is now IF YOU CAN'T LOSE IT, TAN IT!
See you at the pool.