What seems like decades and decades ago, I started this blog to keep me busy while I worked somewhat challenging administration jobs in the construction industry. I wrote down tidbits that entertained me about my new motherhood and life on the wire. Well, I’ve been really on the wire lately. About three and a half years ago I thought teaching in public schools was my calling and I got my Masters degree in Elementary Education. Since then I have had my ass handed to me on a plate and like a sadistic child I keep going back for more.

Question: why are all these boxes packed like they were packed by a crazy person? I mean who packs half used bottles of glue?

Flash back: last Spring. My first year of teaching is complete. I was told in March I would be renewed barring holy hell breaking loose.

I discover my prinicpal is bipolar: holy hell breaks lose. She tells me I suck the big dog and I won’t be renewed. Oh, yeah and on Easter morning baby, I find out…I’m pregnant. PREGNANT!! After two years without a regular period. With PCOS. (look it up.) At 36, almost 37 years old. No FREAKING way!

I’ve heard that when God closes a door he opens a window. But I didn’t think he opened it with a brick. But for reals, homeskillets, sometimes he opens the window with a big ol’ brick.

So, here I am. I have a master’s degree in Elementary Education and I sub and teach pre-school. But this is the NEW WORLD ORDER, baby. So who am I to judge how it should be. It’s all a mind game.

My five year old watched The Matrix on T.V. for the first time the other day and was blow away. He still talks about its AWESOMENESS. (That’s because you didn’t sit through Matrix 2 and 3.) But, I digress, it is a movie that is all about perception. My goal is to REFUSE (sorry I keep abusing caps, but honestly, I’ve had a couple glasses of wine) to let happiness be ruined by my perception of what I think it should be. I’m going to Pollyanna and Orphan Annie the crap out of all my self doubt and find reward in WHATEVER (caps!) I do.

Motherhood=rewarding. Whenever I take care of a baby I think, hey, I’m awesome. First that kid was crying now “look at me!” she’s laughing. Or to be able to hug a child instead of recommending a strategy to deal with said drama I think “YEAH! Awesome.” So maybe daycare isn’t horrible for me. I can teach and hug. I’m like Barney the Purple Dinosaur. That is my bliss. I must follow.

So on the other note: my awesome daycare director told another awesome teacher about my blog. My poor, neglected blog. I loved my blog but teaching got in the way. Well, I’m not a “teacher” (notice the quotes, I can’t do air quotes) anymore and I have time to blog. And blog, I will.

By the way, I am blogging this on my son’s computer while he plays video games on my much faster computer. Shhh. Don’t say anything.

Thank goodness we are out of the hospital.  Here are some pictures of the excitement and lack of sleep of the week.

This week has been an interesting week. Rarely, in my life have I felt so helpless and yet, strangely helpful. The day started with a young girl in my class complaining of a stomach ache. Being seven, she missed the free breakfast at that school that morning and was experiencing pain in her stomach because “we don’t have much food at home.” Translation: there is probably just condiments at home. Thankfully, I was told that in her instance I can sent her to the nurse with a note about missing breakfast and no food at home and they gave her something to eat. Others complained of hunger (although I’m not sure if food at home was a factor for most) so I pushed nutrition, a once a week lesson where we cook together to that day. The children who didn’t like the Chinese cabbage, cucumber, carrot and crunchy noodle salad gave their extra to the hungry little girl. “Mrs. Stevens!” she said, “I ate so much I’m going to get fat!” I laughed, looking at her not-quite four foot frame. “You have a long way to go,” I said.

Later that day I questioned a very tired-looking boy about what time he goes to sleep. While talking about it his eyes watered and his bottom lip began to tremble. It was obvious something more was wrong than sleep. He came in and talked with me at lunch. His mom, a single mom, leaves for work before he wakes up and comes home at 11:00 p.m. (when he should be in bed) He stays up waiting until she gets home so he can spend some time with her. He told me one night he and his brother brought cold water to bed to help them stay awake. I told him that I leave in the morning before my son wakes up but I always make sure to say goodbye and give him a hug and a kiss. Sometimes he wakes up and remembers and sometimes he doesn’t but I always do it. Maybe he could suggest this to his mom, to wake him up when she gets home or before she leaves so he could get some sleep before she comes home. But deep down inside I thought, how tragic and tough. I think I’m the worst mother on the days I have a late class and can’t get home until 7:00. Here this mother’s mandatory schedule keeps her away from her kids during waking hours five days a week. I think it helps for these kids to get some solace at school but in some ways it feels like I’m just the person giving the beggar a dollar. It’s just enough to get them through the moment. Hopefully, he empathy and encouragement will be something that helps them get through their lives.

Okay. Now it sets in. I’m done with my 12 weeks of teaching. It’s my first day of subbing and I have no phone calls. I feel like a big loser, but thankfully, I have a half-day gig tomorrow. My days will go buy so slowly if I don’t sub–and so poorly. Right now I am trying to stay positive and not freak out. We are waiting around now until school starts at 9:00 for Zach. This is odd. I will pick him up again at 3:30. Other than that I have large urges to clean and paint. Must be nesting. Of course, no one will let me paint. It would probably take me 7 weeks to finish painting anyway.

I am actually sleeping again. I give myself a larger sleep window, hence I get more sleep. This kid probably will not like swaddling, since he kicks the crap out of me when I sleep on my side.

My sister suggested that I’m having a 8 plus pound baby again. Even though I’m delivering a week early? Really? Don’t jinx me sista! I feel huge right now and I probably don’t even have a five pound kid in my stomach. I would prefer things to stay on course, no early babies please. The NICU doesn’t sound like a fun hang out.

Quickly Recover From A C-Section

At my last appointment my doctor let me schedule my c-section. The due date for Alexander Mark Stevens (if it is allegedly the boy they claim) is Dec. 19. I check in at 5:30 a.m.

I feel like 11 weeks is forever, and then it feels like its right around the corner, but never really what it is. Why is that? I’m an impatient pregnant woman and then I’m also lazy. I need a pack and play, a bassent, a changing table pad, a crib mattress but I have bought non of these things yet.

My husband is having some kind of shower thing thrown from him at his office. This is a nice twist of fate since for showers it was me the last time, and me for the wedding and me writing ever thank you notes since we’ve been married, 9 years ago. I’m sure I’ll be writing the thank yous but I won’t have to feel that burning red face from being in the spotlight. I feel like all my pictures from showers shows me smiling just a little too much. Forced.

So now I have a date for the big cut and pull. I feel like a movie star who is too posh to push. Ironic because my schedule is really wide open for when this one can come since I’m out of a job and only a sub.

Worries: I’m worried about pre-term labor, bed rest, adjustment, etc. But according to my last OBGYN I need to reduce stress and focus on the now. Mindful meditation-ditching morning medication.

I am slowly building myself up to 8 and 9 hour days. At five months pregnant, its rough. I can see why, although not true in the outside world, in the world of pregnancy, 37 is old. Luckily, the ultrasound proved that everything is really healthy with our future boy. Apparently, I am as risk free in this pregnancy as a 26 year-old. Now, if only I had the energy of a 26 year-old. The good news is a weight off my mind.

Both of my pregnancies were surprises. I know that sounds foolish, if you aren’t using birth control, you shouldn’t be surprised, right? Well, with Zach I had taken a pregnancy test a month earlier that was negative. I was taking Clo-mid (only one month) and changed doctors for interventions. On that appointment I found out I was eight weeks pregnant.

With this one, I hadn’t used birth control for a year and a half. I figured I’d have to bring out the big guns again (Clo-mid) or I was too old with too few eggs. Like many other months, my period was not coming on time. As always, I got a birth control test, assuming it would be negative, and it was positive. Now, that is fine and dandy when you really are 26, but I was 37 and hadn’t had a period in three months. How far along was I? Was the pregnancy viable? I visited the doctors office three times that week. Luckily I was only four weeks pregnant and everything looked well. They tested my levels, things were doubling. I had a lot of doubt in the beginning. On top of that, I lost my job. My hormones were causing mood swings that rivaled a rollercoaster. Now, half way through I’m still tired, but the moods are less insane. Half way through, we are looking good.

Starting tomorrow I am teaching 60 3rd graders reading and writing in two blocks. I am filling in for a veteran teacher who use to be a teacher leader. She just had the cutest baby boy at 40, her first. I’m pretty nervous, but since it’s a long-term sub job it may bring me opportunities.  Now, if I can only get my energy level up.

This pregnancy (I’m due with a boy in December) I have mad hyper-pigmentation. This is also known as the mask of pregnancy. To combat it I found two products that really are sort of cheap and amazing. Here is one place you can find it cheap online.

This Avalon Organics Vitamin C Serum is a great bang for the buck. It’s about $20 but one pump covers my whole face and works as well as a certain Arbonne product. I use it morning and night. I bought this about two months ago at Target by the Burt’s Bees stuff.

The next product seems like it wouldn’t work. It looks like jam and its all natural so how can it peel off gross skin?

This MyChelle Fruit Fiesta Peel is something I worked up to use everyday. Just a very thin layer left on for five minutes then washed off has really evened out my skin tone. My brown blotches and some of my acne scars are fading. In the beginning it stings, so you have to get use to it. Now, after using it about three weeks, my skin welcomes it and barely notices when I put it on. Wonderful, wonderful! This runs only about $25 bucks. I’ve used products similar that only last about two weeks for that price. I find this product in the hippie stores like Sprouts, Wholefoods or Vitamin Cottage. Or find it here, if you don’t mind snail mail https://www.the-natural-element.com/products/mychelle-sale/mychelle-fruit-fiesta-peel-1-2-oz/

Anyway, fighting the mask of pregnancy and making my skin less wrinkly and discolored. I love these products.

Wow, how relaxing and enjoyable summer school is. Irony that I have the same amount of children. We just cover the basics: reading, writing and math. The kids stay focused and work hard. This seems like a big newsflash about how much we jam down their little throats during the year. Here it feels like there is process time. What do I know, I’m an out of work first year teacher. Blah.

The jobland never seems to give me any breaks. I have been cut from my school (on good terms) and need to go to the pool to find a position somewhere else in the district. I went through all the stages of grief in about one night. I’ve been through this job hunt thing many, many times. Now the process is abbriviated. Pluses: my prinicipal will coach on interviews, write recommendations, and call other schools for me! Whoo hoo. Bad news, I feel like I lost a high school boyfriend, ie “I still love you! Why don’t you want me?” You know the whole “It’s not  you, its me speach?” Yup. I just pray that I can walk on sunshine and radiate positive awesomeness from somewhere, God helping. Positive awesomeness from myself alone is in short supply.

So this news hits, kids call each other the N word, tell me I’m “pissing them off”, a boy threatens with gestures to punch a girl in line resulting in tears, a million trillion tests and I still have to play the game for four more months. Time to pull up the big girl panties (and by the way after this year, those panties are very, very big, unfortuantly. Thanks to stress eating and drinking.) I still want to do this, I will not give up. One bump in the road, one u-turn, whatever, on a fairly straightforward journey, thus far.

 All prayers welcome.