Well, friends at writing forum, I guess there's no better place to describe mixed feelings than right here. As you already know, if you read my earlier blog, I was somewhat shocked to discover an unexpected pregnancy. What I might not have expressed is that it occurred at the worst time ever. Finances weren't right, living situation wasn't right, and it was right smack after my first year at a new job and only a few credits into my Master's degree. There were definitely times that I thought (and even said to myself) I really don't want this baby. But, of course, no one can resist the sweet idyllic thoughts of an adorable new baby, and I eventually allowed myself to be taken in by them. I even began to look forward to the baby, and introduced my 2 year old to baby sister in mommy's tummy. Unfortunately, I miscarried today. At first, I felt utterly relieved. Everything in my life would have been turned upside down, and it would have been a pregnancy of constant stress. But then I felt guilty for being relieved, and even more guilty when I contemplated having to share the news with my 2 year old. It's just strange to write it, but even though I didn't want this baby, on some levels I still wanted her. I still wanted to be a mommy again. It sounds really stupid, and maybe it's just the trauma of the moment, but I feel as though maybe I jinxed this pregnancy with my stressed-out attitude. I wanted her but I didn't want her. I loved her but I didn't really love her at the same time. Granted, the baby's development was basically arrested at 4 weeks, and it has only been around 3-4 weeks since I've known of her existence, but it doesn't make it any less painful or confusing. Sometimes I feel as though life just likes to f#$5 with me. It gives me something I don't want until I actually decide I want it, and then it takes it away again. Doesn't really seem fair.
Yep. I'm now 31 years old. A great whopping 31. It doesn't feel nearly as tragic as 30, but it's nowhere near as exciting as birthdays when I was in my 20's. Now it's more like: "Happy birthday!" (a well-wisher) "Meh!" (says me) This is combined with the knowledge, discovered a few days ago that I am also pregnant. Most likely I'm about 3 weeks pregnant. Totally wasn't planned, and in terms of family planning has some rather horrible timing. But then again, maybe the timing will be better as this year rolls along. Maybe some things will smooth out. I'm trying to be hopeful. We're almost positive it will be a girl, which makes me happy. Her name will be Gianna Victoria because my husband's best man Giancarlo died in a car accident on the day of our religious wedding. (He was in Panama and we were in the U.S.--he was the best man of our civil wedding.) And Victoria because she was conceived on the day that Panama beat the U.S. in the Copa de Oro. (Granted, they lost the second match against the U.S., but they played a great game then as well.) Actually, I was kinda sorta rooting for the U.S. team among my Panamanian family members, so I guess the Victoria part comes more from my husband than from me. Anyway, so here I am, 31 years old and pretty much have the whole year planned out now (I guess) because this will be a baby year. <sigh> And here I was, hoping that this year would be professional development year, and "year of the brilliant teacher" year. And maybe the year of "sexy, good-looking, get my act together and maybe buy myself a new pair of shoes." (The latter is rather difficult to accomplish when pregnant--except for the buying of new shoes part. Usually flats.)
Came across an interesting book written by a Rochester, NY cop who was writing about techniques for interrogations. Super interesting, particularly the parts about when to give Miranda rights, what forms are used to keep track of suspects and events upon arrest, etc. I need to read further, but I'm hoping it will really influence my crime fiction in some helpful ways. Anyone else have an interesting resource that really helped them with realistic dialogue and police information for writing crime fiction?
So right now I'm working in a small bilingual school, trying to help some of their teachers improve classroom management and work in a multi-level classroom. By multi-level, I mean that the classroom age-wise is, let's say, 7th grade. But the students themselves range from a couple of kids who don't speak or understand hardly any English to a couple of students who are reading at or above grade level. I don't know if any of you can fathom how difficult it would be to orchestrate a classroom so that the needs of all of these students are being reached. Thankfully, the school has provided some resources for the teachers, so they are not confined to ONLY the grade-level book. Basically, what I was working on the teacher with yesterday was flexible grouping. There may be moments when you can pair a high level with an average level and a low level English learner, but then eventually you need to break them out and have them accomplish different tasks depending on their skill level. The high levels need to read longer passages, write longer journal entries on more specific topics. The average learners can start forming paragraphs, while the low learners write sentences or learn new vocabulary for writing. The poor classroom teacher ends up having to separate into groups (in a fairly small classroom), walk around checking work and making comments, make sure students aren't getting out of their chairs randomly, and basically plan three different lesson activities for one lesson! Crazy stuff! The other options end up only helping the high level students, the average level students or the low level students but ignoring the needs of those who don't fit the criteria for the lesson.
Whew! The school year is finally over! So what do I do? Well, I have to now conduct a Summer reading program using an online bulletin board called canvas. If you've never used it before, it's INCREDIBLE!! You can create entire courses using it, post links, materials and rubrics and also have a gradebook, etc. Initial setup is entirely free! The kids are reading their choice of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, Girl with a Pearl Earring, or House of Sand and Fog. Most of them are doing quite well with the first selection. Some of the more ambitious readers have chosen to read two of the books. So I'll be keeping up with that and also going to Miami for a teaching conference for a week--picking up some grad school credit there. I'm also hoping to do some shopping. As for writing, I must confess I haven't done much lately. I have, though, been doing a LOT of reading. I ran across a patio sale here in Panama where people were selling millions of paperbacks. For a cool $30 I picked up around 25 different books, including series sets of Lindsay Davis mystery novels. Super fun--the protagonist is Marcus Didius Falco, who lives in Rome during Vespasian's rule as emperor and he works as an "informer" for the Empire. His mysteries take him on trips to Corduba, Germany, Gaul, etc. which is rather fun, especially since I just finished reading Julius Caesar with the kiddos. Don't know if anyone else on here has ever read her, but honestly, I'm amazed at her ability to make ancient Rome come alive! It's great! I think I'm actually learning a lot from reading her books as to how she constructs her mysteries as well. Anyway, I highly recommend her novels.
The first rule is...there are no rules! See, here's the thing. I'm a teacher. I live by rules on a daily basis. Sometimes I'm a bit uncomfortable when I'm out of my routine. I love creativity, and I love creating new things, but when I feel that rules are involved, I feel compelled to abide by them. I think this is why I didn't explore further my creative writing in coursework at college. I was used to academic writing about literature. I was good at it. Dang good at it. And I was pretty decent at journalistic writing as well, partly because it had structure. Once I understood the structure, I became an expert at cranking those articles out. When I had a magazine internship, I floundered a bit. I never imagined that writing a blurb was so freaking hard. It's short, and yet if it's not done right, it feels so incredibly slow and boring! I would try and try and try and still feel like a boring blurb writer! I'm wondering if I took up blurb writing again whether I would inspire myself back into creativity. You see, here's the thing. The other day, someone posted about "The Rules," and since that moment I think that there has been some kind of nagging sensation in my mind that I'm in a situation with my writing in which I just don't know/understand the rules. I find contradictory information at every turn. Adjectives and adverbs are to be avoided (why?) Don't use italics because it's for amateurs. (really? I thought it was the way it's supposed to be done!) Make sure to include major information about your protagonist and setting in the first few sentences on your first page. (ok. I kind of feel a bit like a Nancy Drew book at times, but if you say so...) My creative writing classes were always the most confusing. I never fully understood where my grades were coming from. What one thing was good and another wasn't good enough. The grades just seemed so arbitrary. I didn't feel like I understood what was expected of me. What is this crazy world and how do I become a part of it? I always felt as though I was on the outside looking in. We were given these essay models that we were to follow, choosing at least one particular trait to imitate in our own writing. But I never felt as though I could understand how to do that. And so many people have told me how that is a completely messed up approach. The truth is that I don't really know what contemporary writing is supposed to look like, what markets are truly looking for, what a first page should look like, and how it's all put together. I just kind of explore some kind of idea inside myself and then ask around to find out if it works or not. Usually I find that it doesn't, and that it needs major revision. And sometimes (maybe this also has to do with my lack of creative writing training) I find that I am completely lost about how to revise my own creative writing. With my academic writing it was always easy. I tried to write the most perfect draft the first time, and then I would scrutinize it for organization, thought process, evidence and word choice. It's much easier to do this on a literary criticism essay, where everything is pretty much cut and dried. It's much harder to fire up that creative writing spark again after it has died down. So that's where I'm at. I don't know how to correct this problem. I don't really know how to BE a writer, even though it has been a dream of mine since I was a little girl. I love reading and I love writing, but I'm getting the idea that it's simply not enough to love these activities. I need to do something to make sure that my writing skills are as strong as my reading skills. Where the heck do I begin??
I had a biography of Marie Antoinette by Antonia Fraser sitting on my sofa. I had just finished reading it. My daughter picks it up and opens it, pretending to read. "ABC," she says. "Yes, ABC's," I say. "One day I'll teach you to read." "Yucky," she says, pointing to Marie Antoinette on the front cover. My daughter's nose is all scrunched up. "Her dress is pretty," I tell her, pointing at the green-blue silk dress she's wearing. "No pretty," my daughter protests. "Yucky." She then proceeds to have a conversation with Marie Antoinette, hinting, I'm sure at what she wants to do that morning. "Go out?" she asks Marie Antoinette, already nodding her own head in agreement. "Does she want to go out with you?" I ask. "Yes," she says emphatically. "Go to Tia Tania's?" she asks Marie Antoinette. Again the nod yes. Tia Tania's house has a recent acquisition--a new little puppy. Sophie is obsessed with it. "Does she like dogs?" I ask Sophie of Marie Antoinette. "Yes!" Sophie says. Actually, Marie Antoinette did like dogs, and probably would have approved of going to Tia Tania's house to see one.
Imagine reading the following dialogue from Julius Caesar in a 10th grade English class, and you probably will have a pretty good indicator of my day today. Brutus. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful. Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile, And touch thy instrument a strain or two? Lucius. Ay, my lord, an't please you. Brutus. It does, my boy: I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. Lucius. It is my duty, sir. Brutus. I should not urge thy duty past thy might; I know young bloods look for a time of rest. Lucius. I have slept, my lord, already. 2290 Brutus. It was well done; and thou shalt sleep again; I will not hold thee long: if I do live, I will be good to thee. Yeah, so in case you were wondering, they're talking about a musical instrument that Lucilius, the servant, is playing at the request of his master, Brutus. (And what were you thinking, you dirty mind, you?) Yep. Lots of Beevis and Butthead laughter and me trying to keep a straight face as best I could. Then came the character "CLITUS." See what I mean?
Sorry--not for you, my dear reader! For me! We had a teacher appreciation lunch yesterday, and they sent us each home with 2 free movie passes to the theatre that my husband and I usually go to! I, of course, want to see Water for Elephants (no spoilers, please!), but I have a feel I'm going to get stuck watching Fast Five. Don't really mind, though, because at least I'll get to go on a date with hubby that's pretty much pre-paid! I'm also hoping to be able to score a decent end-of-the-year bonus based on my teaching prowess. <rawr> It will help me pay off my braces for good and/or maybe help me pay my professional development credits this summer.
Let me preface this by saying that I am aware that there are joys to parenting. Tonight it just doesn't happen to be raining down the joy. I've had very little sleep for about 5 days now. My daughter has an ongoing cough that keeps her awake in the night. Worse than that is the fact that my husband and I have not made the wisest of decisions lately about how to handle her unwillingness to go to bed to begin with. We've been placating her with a couple of ounces of milk in the night, which has now created a habit. Result? I'm exhausted. I'm sitting here in front of the computer writing on this blog at 1:30am, knowing full well that my day officially begins at 5:30am. It's off to teaching again for me until I return with more baby duty until 8:30pm. She seems to be trying to go to sleep finally, after rocking, singing, and medicines. However, now my ears are tuned in to her coughing and I literally cannot fall asleep as long as I hear the sound. I've turned on the television, hoping that the background noise will drown her out, and now I'm making myself some tea in the hopes that it will help me relax and go to sleep. I'm not sure how much longer I can take this sleep schedule. This afternoon I broke down in tears because I was just so dang tired. Pretty much anything can set me off crying after about 4-5 hours a night for a week. I'm definitely not a college student anymore; I simply can't manage my active day without sleep. At least in college I could squeeze in naps in nice, quiet dark rooms alone. I wish I had a room to escape to that was absent of snoring, coughing, crying and all manner of distraction. I could stay there for a day or so at least, I think. No fighting for blankets from the hubby and no snoring in my ear would be a nice change of pace. And my husband wants to try for #2. <snort> Yeah, right.
I am continually amazed at the level of responsibility and time it takes to parent a child well. I'm faced with it at my job, where I can visibly see results of excellent parenting. Some parents of my students are just amazing people! I am also seeing it at home, when I'm tired and overwhelmed by the job of parenting my (1) little girl. My sister has three children, and I'm stunned by her ability to parent all of them. Mother's Day came and went, and I ended up in the emergency room with my little girl, who climbed up high enough to reach the shelf upon which some cough/allergy medicine was placed. ("Yum, Yum," she told me. "Candy!") I was absolutely terrified, although it turns out that she ended up just fine and hadn't taken a huge dose--just enough to scare the crap out of me. I went home and cleaned out the entire medicine closet, dumping old baby clothes out of a tupperware and filling it up with bottles and then placing it on the top, uppermost shelf of my closet. What is worse about making mistakes as a parent is that they tend to be visible for all to see. You feel like an idiot. In my husband's family, whenever something happens, everyone is on their cell phones passing the word along. My guilty feelings make me even more sensitive to any word of criticism, however well-intentioned. In my life, I've rarely experienced personal or academic failure. But I'm absolutely terrified of failing as a parent. It feels to me as if there's no room for failure when you're responsible for the life of a child. Let's just say it's been a tough week to confront some of my worst fears of failure. I admire greatly those women who manage to make it look easy and seem to naturally have the common sense to handle situations with sufficient rationality and poise.
This is perhaps a little too creepy, but I'm posting it anyway. Ode to Coffee Liquid immortality! Brew beyond this world! How I hope to taste your latent powers, Feel the shock of energy ignite. Running through my veins, Lightning sparks of focus rise. Drug of deep addiction, How I long for morning’s high! Some eschew your benefits, Some may seek a truer path. I will wallow in your graces. I will loyally return. Hell itself cannot prevent me! Heaven less can shake desire. Lay your liquid fingers on me, I am yours to set on fire!
At my new school, they have a new system for reviewing teachers that is quite involved, and rather intimidating. Apparently this is the first year in which they have done this, and the goal is to measure effectiveness of teachers and reward them accordingly since the salary scale only addresses education level and years served. Yeah, I get it. Just 'cause a teacher has a degree doesn't necessarily make them any good in the classroom. However, I sometimes feel such a heavy weight of responsibility as a teacher--I need to plan every lesson minutely, come up with new and engaging ways to teach students, get to know them as individuals, keep accurate attendance, grades, curriculum documents, post information online for parents and students to view, do all of the other grading paperwork, decorate my classroom, and still find time to attend afterschool activities. Now that I have some years of experience under my belt, it's not nearly as much as it used to be. I wish I just knew why I beat myself up so much each time I make a mistake somewhere. I admit them, adjust and move on, which I guess all of us do. None of us are perfect. But I tend to set such high expectations for myself. Then when a rubric evaluation and classroom observations happen, I'm so nervous and terrified that I won't be at my best or that something will happen that will make me look ridiculously stupid and rookie. In this particular case, we're supposed to produce artifacts proving that we know what we're doing. I'm determined to blow them all away. I've created a blog and I've posted all kinds of things--powerpoint presentations, PREZIs, Youtube videos and worksheets I use, student-created video projects, curriculum documents, my teaching certificates and all manner of things. I don't mind doing it so much because I'm basically transferring my portfolio into blog form. I can always organize it better later. I just wish that, after all that work, the whole observation didn't have to happen and that I didn't have to have meetings to discuss my "goals" and nonsense of that sort. It just doesn't feel very helpful to me, and it just makes me feel stressed out.
So I have gotten back on my feet and turned in my partly-completed synopsis for critique. Waiting for all of the red ink. I know it will still have its problems, but I'm hoping that it's better than the last one. <crossing fingers> Planning on finishing V for Vendetta while the baby is asleep. Also--good news!--I've been doing very well on my research for the short story. (All this work for something that may or may not be publishable!!) I have made a really good contact in the U.S. (a poly sci professor, I think), who is graciously allowing me to call him with my questions. Once I get the synopsis back, I may have different questions. Who knows? I've also learned that in NY State, employee cell phones can be monitored and that recently there was a landmark case in which an employee sued for GPS tracking monitoring that proved he was leaving work early. He lost the case. Employers who give you an email, computer or phone for business purposes can check however they want on your doings. Just be aware, folks!
I should have known it would be a crappy day when my coffeemaker broke. Definitely doesn't bode well. Things seemed as though they would go along better when I played with my little girl during the day and we watched the movie Bolt together. Then we decided to take our daughter to see the latest Winnie-the-Pooh movie. First of all, the mall we went to usually has very wealthy clientele, those who usually look down at you for not wearing designer brands and go in and out of Louis Vuitton for kicks. In my khakis, payless shoes and little Abercrombie tank top, I totally felt outclassed. My poor XOXO purse has seen better days with its broken zipper and fringing shoulder strap. It's my only purse and I have worn it all year. Each time I think that I will replace it, I think of something more important to buy for the family. I mean, hey, I prioritize. Unfortunately for me, it usually means that my appearance and clothing ends up at the bottom of the list. So I'm already walking into this mall feeling inadequate and pondering the description given in a movie I had watched the night before in which a blonde describes another blonde as "sandy blonde, ugly blond." (I happen to be dark, sandy blond...) My daughter starts out well, sitting down and watching the movie with us avidly. Then all hell breaks loose as she doesn't want to stay seated and I have to take her out of the theatre because she starts loudly yelling when I refuse to let her run around. Finally, I got her straightened out. People nearby have their kids all nicely doing what they should, and they're giving me evil looks as if I'm the worst mom in the world. Then we take her to get some food, which was mistake #2 considering her attitude at the time. Again, the waitresses are giving me looks--my mother-in-law was with us, and, of course, she wants to take us to the Sheraton hotel of all places. I was forced to take her to the bathroom to straighten her out, smack her bottom a little and wipe her face with a damp towel to calm her down and refresh her a bit. By the time I got home, I was so freaking exhausted that I just wanted to scream. I relax a bit and check out writing forum here, read a few news articles. My husband then calls me over to watch "Hangover." (Which some of you on here may enjoy, but considering that my husband began by comparing me to the uptight girlfriend in the previews, I was not at all feeling better about myself when he pronounces the uptight girlfriend a b**ch.) I'm seriously going to just take a bath and try and shake off this day. Oh, yes, and I think I might find something chocolate and eat it.