Posted on December 9, 2008
Before you can get a job as a teacher, you have to do a right of passage called “Student Teaching.” The basic idea is they match you with a “seasoned” teacher who mentors you while you practice all those fabulous skills they taught you in college, and you pay them to work full time as a teacher. My experience was a little different. My mentor was one year from retirement, and thought this would be an excellent time to take a vacation. She allowed me the honor of taking over her classes. Needless to say, it was quite stressful and there was no way I was going to be able to have a serious job where I could make some serious money. So, my sister hooked me up with a gig as a hostess at Joe’s Crab Shack.
I was a really GOOD hostess; I am an organized and methodical person, and I have even been known to be friendly on occasion. The only problem with the job was I made next to nothing for an hourly wage, and a piddly amount for tip share. I was living at home, so I didn’t need a whole lot of money, but I didn’t want to live at home forever.
My first teaching job was at an alternative school. I wasn’t a salaried teacher, I was a “mini-course instructor.” Which basically meant an hourly wage and no benefits, but all the responsibilities of a teacher. To put this into perspective, I made $15,000 my first year of teaching. Obviously, I needed to keep working at Joe’s. And, in my infinite wisdom, I decided that I could make more money as a server, so I took the test and switched positions.
I was a TERRIBLE server. I would forget orders, I couldn’t carry the trays because of my back, and I SUCK at math, I certainly can’t do it in my head. I had never experienced this level of failure before, and it was rough on me. I think I lasted about a month, then I quit and started tutoring kids who had been expelled from school. It was a much easier job!
Last night I had the weirdest dream:
It started with John and I taking Chloe and her friend to the movies. (By friend I mean nameless girl that isn’t really Chloe’s friend, but for the sake of the dream we’ll go with it.) Chloe and her friend got bored, so I ended up taking them out of the theater into the lobby. Somehow, Chloe’s friend got a hold of a dot painter, and painted her shirt blue. I took both girl’s into the bathroom to clean her up, and they both decided they needed to pee. (Again, understandable considering we are in the throes of potty training.) And this is where things get weird.
Chloe’s friend decided she wanted to take a swim in the toilet, and before I could stop her, she dove in. Freaking out, I pulled her out of the toilet and tried to clean her up in the sink.
The movie let out, and John and I took the girls back to Joe’s (and this is where it all comes together) to meet up with the girl’s mom and brother. I desperately tried to explain why her child was covered in paint and smelled like pee. Then John and Chloe disappeared (or maybe they went home) and the manager came over and handed me my Joe’s shirt. I tried to explain that it had been a few years since I worked there, but I thought I could still handle it.
The mother and the kids sat in my section, and ordered their food. I realized right away I was going to have to write it down or I was never going to remember what they ordered. I scrambled around looking for a pen and something to write on. I finally found a pen and a napkin, and went back to the table. They placed their order and I went over to place it in the computer. It had been so long since I worked there, I couldn’t remember the table number. I got them their drinks, and then went off to figure out what table they were at. I ran into my friend Brenda (whom I haven’t seen since our 10 year high school reunion. I would tell you how long ago that was, but it would make me cry) who also worked there (not in real life, just in my dream.) She told me she was too busy to help, and went about her business.
Then the annoying mom, and yes I was annoyed by her at this time, decided to switch sections which pissed off the server in the section she moved to. I was still trying to find someone, anyone, who would give me a list of table numbers. Finally, I convinced the sous chef (who looked like Hawk from 21 Jump Street, don’t ask) to give me a list. Instead, all he gave me was the worksheet they give new hires to learn the tables, in other words, it was blank.
This was about the time I noticed that the annoying mom’s food was ready and I had to deliver it to her table. I tried to line the plates on my arms to deliver it, but I just couldn’t get the balance right. I grabbed a bus boy and talked him into helping me.
Then I woke up.
Why, WHY do I keep having these dreams?
Posted on December 8, 2008
My dad is doing a lot better. He is now able to wiggle three of his fingers, and he has embraced his new diet and consequent new lifestyle. Other than being tired (which is totally understandable) he is creeping back to being his old sarcastic self that we all know and love!
On the lighter side:
Tonight, I was giving Chloe a bath and she farted. She shouted with glee, “MOMMY, WOOK! BUBBLES, WOTS AND WOTS OF BUBBLES!”
Ah, she is the picture of grace and femininity.
Posted on December 7, 2008
I lead Chloe, somewhat voluntarily, to her potty seat. She sits down, leans over and pretends to pick something up off the the floor, then puts it on her face.
Me: Chloe, what are you doing?
Chloe: I dropped my eye! There it is, I find it. I pick it up, put it back on.
Hm….my kid is weird.
Posted on December 5, 2008
Sitting in the hospital room with my mom and my dad, discussing the day he had his stroke.
Keep in mind that they were both chuckling when they were saying this.
Mom: You should have seen me trying to get your dad up after the floor after he fell down, it was truly a comedy of errors.
Dad: Yeah, I was lying there flopping around like a fish. If I had had these socks (motioning to the bright yellow grippy socks they gave him at the hospital) I wouldn’t have been sliding around so much on the wood floor.
Mom: Yeah, I was trying to get his arm around my neck so he I could pull him up, but his left arm wouldn’t work, so he ended up pulling me down right on top of him!
Dad: I ended up rolling myself over to the couch and was able to crawl up from there. Its too bad we didn’t video tape it, we could have posted it up on Youtube!
After that comment they both starting giggling.
Sigh.
My dad also discovered today that his sling is an excellent place to stash his Ipod.
I would say things are improving.
Posted on December 2, 2008
Last night at 12:30am I received a call from my brother saying that he was taking my dad to the emergency room. Both my parents had been sick with the stomach flu, and after already feeling like crap, suddenly he couldn’t move his left arm.
He is doing better already, he couldn’t walk last night but now he can. His left arm is still numb and it looks like he might have had a minor stroke. However, they’re not 100% sure about this, because they have done multiple tests (and still have tests to do) and they weren’t able to find a cause. He is in good spirits, and seems to feel okay, but I suspect he has some rehabilitation that he is going to have to do. At this point, they have no idea what that looks like.
Add to this, my mother does not drive, my brother just started a job and should really stick with it, and my sister HAS to teach every day. What do I do? I attend play groups, and plan nap times. It seems silly for me to stay in New Jersey when my obligations are so much more flexible, and I am perfectly capable of dropping everything and helping.
It was still a tough decision as far as Chloe was concerned. We just got back on Saturday. She had the stomach flu on the plane, so we spent a four hour flight with the smell of vomit lingering. (Quite honestly, we’ve washed the car seat twice and I can still smell it.) Plus, we are leaving for Italy in less than a month.
But, again, I can be helpful. And so I am going to be.
And, I am selfishly doing this for me. I am having a terrible time living so far away from my family, especially when I feel like I am completely helpless out here. Phone calls and emails can’t provide the same support that taking my brother out for a beer, babysitting my sister’s kids, or helping my dad and mom out when their sick. Most of the time I have accepted my fate about living in New Jersey, and I even (cough) kind of like it out here. But, times like this really suck. I miss being 45 minutes away.
All day today, I battled with going. We still don’t know what’s going on. And I am not even sure how helpful I can be or what they’re going to need. But, I would rather be sitting at my parents house bored in Colorado, then sitting at my house bored in New Jersey, with the knowledge that I couldn’t have been helpful if I were closer.
I feel positive that my dad is going to be okay. He’s healthy and strong, and still relatively young. But, I want to see it all first hand, instead of hearing about it over the phone.
Posted on December 2, 2008
I think we are going to officially call Chloe “potty trained.” She is now pooping and peeing regularly on the potty, she is consistently waking up dry from nap time, and is waking up dry in the morning about 80% of the time. Yay Chloe! She is soooo proud of herself. We had to go to the doctor today for her two and a half year check up, and she happily announced to the doctor, “I go poo poo on the potty!”
Speaking of which, her are her new stats:
Hieght: 36 inches
Weight: 27 1/4 pounds
Eyes: blue
Hair: depending on the day and the lighting, either a dishwater blonde, or a strawberry blonde.
Skin: Pasty white with a few freckles. (And yes, we have named them. They all have names starting with “F”)
She is a big girl now, and she is more than happy to point that out. Unless she wants to be cuddled, and then she is still “Mommy’s baby.” I suspect that will always be the case.
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