Juggling Act

Any weekend that ends with seeing family and eating delicious food earns an A+ from me. I spend so much of my "off" time absorbed by grading, sending e-mails, and lesson planning that so little time remains for my family. It saddens me, really.  Spring break cannot come soon enough. I need to spend time with people I love and doing things I love. This kid is already highlighting the reality of how much time I spend either doing work or feeling guilty about not doing work. The one thing I cannot allow myself to feel guilty about is not spending enough time with this kid when he or she arrives, so my priorities have already started shifting.  I know all teachers understand the struggle to balance it all; in fact, I am sure so many other professions can empathize. After all, life is one big balancing act.

However, after nine years in the classroom and a childhood spent watching my father work an obscene number of hours to support us, I just do not know if I can justify the time commitment and sacrifices teaching requires. Also, why do we busy ourselves with so much that we feel overburdened instead of overjoyed? Why do people consistently feel the need to tell other people "oh, I am busier than you are"? How did overworking ourselves become a marker of accomplishment? Why do I allow other people's perception of "success" define my own version of it? Why do I buy into this ludicrousness that "doing it all" means you "have it all"? Frankly, my heart of hearts know that is a bunch of unfulfilling malarkey. I think when I achieve balance between doing something I love and spending time with the people I love, that will be my greatest accomplishment. I do not want to feel so rushed through life that I forget I am living one at all. 

These are the musings I type when I should be writing a graduate paper. I guess I should go hop on that. Quickly, come have a look at my outfit and my fun outing with my parents and Jeff.

 

The Look:

Top: Old Navy

Cardigan: Old Navy

Jeans (maternity): Gap

Flats (old): Target

 

Roxy likes to overshadow me. She's cute enough to do so.

My dad's smile makes me laugh so hard. Gosh, I love that man. His shirt is made of corduroy, and it is so soft. He proudly stated that it's from L.L.Bean. And doesn't my mom look pretty in pink? And look at that gorgeous smile of hers. They're the best.

I need to frame this picture. I really, really love it. It just brings me great joy.

Shout Out

I often forget that students follow me into this corner of the internet. Luckily (or not?), I write here pretty much the same way I talk in class with them. (If they did not silently stalk me here, then they would verify the veracity of that statement.) Yesterday, I told you I would not wear white pants so as not to explode one of my student's heads. She tweeted that post before class today and then proceeded to make me laugh so hard my cheeks hurt. Everyone accused her of wearing white pants. She used the enormous pad of post-it notes to demonstrate the difference between the "champagne" color of her pants and the whiteness of the post-it notes. If you're reading this, my dear students, let me tell you and the internet how much you brighten my day.  I look forward to every class period with you all, especially you, fifth period and all of my style twins. 

Also, I would apologize for telling you all about the article I read that claimed farting extends a person's life. However, science is relevant, especially when it's funny and means your parents can "live forever" as I told you. Be sure to sneak your parents some cabbage and broccoli tonight. The next time you see your grandparents, sneak them some cabbage and broccoli, too.

I do, however, apologize to everyone for the UGLY color of my living room walls. The previous owners decided this putrid color would look good...on every wall.  Granted, they made a lot of other "design" choices that leave me feeling puzzled, so I can't be too surprised. Allow yourself to be distracted by the pretty flowers on my dress.

 

The Look:

Dress: PinkBlush Maternity 

Cardigan: Old Navy

Scarf: Made by my momma (of course)

Boots: Steve Madden

 

16-week Bumpdate: Ask and You Shall Receive

People at work keep asking about "the bump" and feeling disappointed because I inadvertently hide it under flowy shirts. Today, I really wanted to wear this shirt because I love the color (a light blue). The clingy shirt highlighted "the bump" effectively, I suppose. One of my fifth period students exclaimed, "OH! The bump is just so cuuuute!" My sophomores, whom I have yet to tell since my intern has been teaching them (it'd be awkward to yell randomly, "hey! I'm pregnant!" at them), kept eyeing my stomach today. I considered addressing the elephant in the room and then decided against it. Several colleagues simply pointed and said, "BUMP!" I feel as if I invented a fun game.

 

The Look:

Top (has cute sleeves you can't see!): Old Navy (exact)

Cardigan (old): LOFT

Pants: Motherhood Maternity

Necklace: gift 

 

Wearing: I bought a pair of white maternity jeans, and I cannot wait to wear those bad boys. I have a student who is vehemently opposed to white jeans before Memorial Day. The class and I argued with her about Easter being a totally acceptable start date. In fact, we all felt white jeans were fair game any season of the year, so several of us plan to wear white jeans tomorrow just to mess with her.  I don't really want to make her brain explode all over my poorly decorated bulletin boards (good thing I teach high school), so I might spare her. This time.  In other news, I cannot wait to wear dresses and maxi skirts!

Reading: Résumés. So many of them. My brain hurts. So much.

Eating: Frequently and whatever sounds appealing, which changes hourly. I haven't really stuck to one thing because I think diversifying my diet will benefit both baby and me. I do really love olives and apples; they have yet to "get old." Steak and sweet potatoes one day, pasta another day, and a salad another day. I also crave oranges, which I cannot eat because I am allergic to them. To cope, I stood by the man making fresh orange juice in Whole Foods today and took in a few big whiffs.

Feeling: My threshold for pain is impressive after three surgeries (appendix, gall bladder, sinus), two car accidents, and a host of health problems. However, back pain has begun to settle in the past few days, and my Sjogrens is flaring up. My threshold is being tested. Granted, I would like to blame work stress for the Sjogrens flare and not this sweet baby. Of course, work stress is not causing things to stretch and making my back throb so badly that I rock back and forth while sobbing. We two tiny humans are trying to coexist in the tiny space that is my body; we'll eventually make it work. After the kid arrives, it will take over the house. Right now, it feels satisfied just taking over my body. I'm totally cool with that arrangement and just thankful it wants to share some space with me at all. To cope with the pain, I scheduled an acupuncture appointment for Saturday (first ever, came highly recommended) and a prenatal massage appointment next Thursday. Jeff so kindly bought me a foam roller to stretch out my back. I'll make this work, kid. I always do.

Anticipating:  Spring break. I want to sleep in. Desperately. Mom, Dad, and I might take a mini trip in their RV. That would be exciting! 

Bumpdates:

15 weeks

Nice people

This weekend, Jeff and I made friends with several of the vendors at a Baby Expo near us because we soak up knowledge like sponges. I learned about another way to get tested for gestational diabetes (versus the drink 50g of sugar in one sitting method). I learned that car seats have expiration dates. I learned that a lot of what I have learned as a teacher, especially about kids and routines, applies to parenting. I learned what a doula actually does. (Jeff, of course, started quoting Billy Madison and said, "medulla oblongata!") I learned about which foods you should buy organic. (Sure, Jeff needed a whole lot of coaxing to consider attending said FREE event, but he ultimately found it valuable as I knew he would.) Don't worry. The next episode of "The Wife is Right" will air soon enough.

At the Verizon store, I decided I needed to replace my iPhone 4s because the poor thing just could not function despite still looking pristine. (I feel like my phone and I have a lot more in common than I realized.) I could have replaced it this past August, but I like to hold onto my technology until it becomes a glorified paperweight because...ugh...money. The salesman, Dave, pointed to a phone case that had me "written all over it," and it was actually the one to which I felt continually drawn. He gave the case to me for free and also knocked $10 off my screen protector. He also made sure we were on the best plan for the cheapest price. Before we left, he taught Jeff and me about The Trolley Dilemma, and we proceeded to have a profound conversation about ethics. (This conversation served as a clear reminder why I did not study ethics in college. They should just rename it "Rock and Hard Place.")

In line behind us at our favorite local, family-owned, fully gluten-free restaurant, a woman started talking to me about how much she loved the color of my cardigan, which I immediately admitted was $8.90 from Forever 21. She said she wears a lot of black and gray. Upon seeing my outfit, she decided she would wear this color with her black and gray to "brighten it up" and she felt all excited about the inspiration.  She is a sweet woman named Patti, and she didn't even mind that it took me five years to place an order at a place with a menu I've nearly committed to memory.

I guess the moral of the story is that it's refreshing to stop and actually talk to people. Treat every person as if they have something to teach you, and you will be surprised by how much you learn. I hope this kid of mine values relationships and learning as much as I do and as much as Jeff does (even though he might not freely admit it). I guess the best I can do is serve as a good role model. This strategy has served me well as a teacher, so let's hope it serves me well as a parent.

 

The Look:

Cardigan: Forever 21 (exact for $8.90--my color is "neon orange")

Dress: H&M

Boots: Madden Girl (similar)

Scarf: Made by Momma

Trunks up to my favorite animals

Pardon that little tuft of hair that's escaping the rest of my bangs. New hair keeps coming in, so I continually have this awkward phase where I these little sprites of bangs make me look as if I had to remove gum from my hair with scissors. Let's just call them endearing and move on, shall we?

Today is a snow day. Yahoo? At this point, I have resigned myself to the fact we will be celebrating the fourth of July together at school. I kid. Sort of. I guess wearing this elephant scarf yesterday was good luck (depending on how you look at it, of course)? However, the elephants' trunks are not up, and someone from India once told me that elephants with their trunks up are considered good luck. Since I love elephants (I am currently looking at four different elephants in my room--a figurine, a humidifier, and two lamps), I will not argue with such kind words about them. I should probably fact check, but why would I run the risk of disappointing myself?

My other favorite animal? The prairie dog. I find them wildly amusing, especially with those little heads that just pop up periodically. I hand-fed them at a zoo in Arizona several years ago, and it may have completed my life. About six years ago, they were renovating the prairie dog exhibit in Baltimore (near me), and prairie dogs started escaping! They were climbing walls and burrowing out. The zoo workers had to scoop them up with nets and put them back into their habitat. They had one little bugger surrounded, and he decided to make his way back into the habitat instead of subjecting himself to the swarm of zoo workers. I really wish I visited the zoo that day; I may or may not have scooped up a prairie dog to take home in my purse. I would have named it Houdini because who doesn't want an escape artist for a pet? Here's the article (which is hilariously written, by the way).

I apologize that the lighting leaves a bit to be desired. Jeff argued that the lighting was best here, while I argued for the opposite side, and I think we have another episode of "The Wife Was Right" set to air today.

 

The Look:

Cardigan: Forever 21 (a student remarked, "nice white and gold outfit today," and I laughed pretty hard. Kids are so witty.) 

Scarf: Gift from my sister-in-law :)

Chambray (actually short sleeves): J.Crew Factory

Jeans: Gap maternity 

Flats: Jessica Simpson (these bad boys are old)

Hump Day Bump Day (15 weeks)

Usually, I do not complain about the weather because everyone else does it for me. However, my one complaint about this continual craptastic weather is that it forces me to wear pants more often than dresses (finally found tights that do not cut into my stomach), and the pant struggle is real right now. I have two "nice" pairs for work and a few pairs of jeans; I just cannot jump fully onto the leggings bandwagon, either. Last week, I had to pack up my pant collection so that it did not sadden me every time I tried to locate a cute outfit in my closet. Emotional crisis averted. Mostly. Also, does anyone remember Lampchop's Sing-a-longs? What about "This is the song that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on, my friends?" Anyone? Yeah, well, I think an appropriate word swap would be "winter" for "song."

 

The Look:

Dress: Old Navy (just got it and I love it, especially that it's not maternity AND that it is long enough. Glory hallelujah.)

Cardigan: Old Navy

Scarf: made by Momma

Boots: Franco Sarto

Necklace: I think it's from The Limited

Yes, you might be looking at that bump and saying to yourself, "seriously, she can't wear her regular pants? She calls that a bump?" 

Currently

Wearing: On Monday night, I hunted for stuff that is not maternity but could work during and after pregnancy; Old Navy rarely fails me, so I found two dresses, two shirts, and a pair of jeans. I know my pants situation can be solved only by maternity pants, and I have surrendered to that fact of life. I found a great pair of skinny maternity jeans from Old Navy (bought them with this dress) that actually fit, and I scored them for 30% off. Boom. People keep assuring me that pregnancy makes leggings socially acceptable, but my brain still fights it. However, I will wear jeans every day to work until the weather warms up and feel zero remorse about it. Zero. Today, I also matched two of my students in fifth period.  Another student said, "If ____ and ____ had a baby, it'd be Ms. Wo." Kids say the darndest things.

Reading: I just started reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close because I plan to teach it to my juniors during fourth quarter. I LOVE IT. I have made it four chapters into the novel, and I have fallen in love with the eccentric, adorable, endearing narrator. I know it will bring me to ugly cries, and I am okay with that.

Eating: Virgil's root beer is the bee's knees (I know it qualifies as a drink, not a food, but it bears mentioning here). Also, I want salads, olives, french-style green beans, gluten-free soft pretzels (SO AMAZING) and pink lady apples. I grow terribly, terribly sick of eating the same thing every day, so I mostly crave variety. Those old wives' tales about cravings are a bunch of hogwash for me. Salty is supposed to mean boy and sweet is supposed to mean girl. I crave both.

Feeling: The nausea has abated significantly. However, the one weird, disgusting, persistent symptom is a head full of snot. Not an "I have a cold" snot, but rather "let's see how many times I choke on my own phlegm just because my body cannot possibly stop producing it" snot. I blow my nose so often that the inside of it actually hurts. No Rudolph nose, so at least my face hides the snot. I can actually feel pulling and stretching and cramping, but compared to my monthly visitor? These growing pains are nothing.

Anticipating:  On April 6th, we find out whether this kid is a mini me or a mini Jeff; if we are all lucky, this kid will be a mini me whether it's male or female. I am not sure the world can contend with another ball of energy like Jeff. Okay, I am not sure I can contend with another ball of energy like Jeff. Just tonight, I was lying peacefully on the bed when he came upstairs and started blowing in my face. Earlier, he decided to play the "let's see how loudly and obnoxiously I can chew these cheeseballs." Dude kills me.

Colors and an Unlikely Superhero

One day in the coming months, those walls behind me will not be the color of banana's rejected turd of a brother. (People tell me to call it "manila," but I love manila folders way more than bananas, so there you have it.) Instead, they will be a calming gray, just like our bedroom walls. Provided this wicked winter weather does not thwart my plans tomorrow, I shall have a new paint job on my hair as well. Thankfully, the doctor and my stylist, who has two boys of her own, say that highlights are safe for me. I fear I would crumble under the weight of this hair shituation if I could not fix it until September.

Also, I have a random thought for you today, which makes this thought no different from any other thought I share with you. I think that if asparagus were a superhero, then its tagline would read: Defender of Short Term Memory. We all know full well that it saves us from using the line, "I can't even remember what I had for dinner last night." Fear not, asparagus will not allow you to forget. Now, what would we name this superhero? Hit me with your best ideas.

 

The Look:

Tunic: PinkBlush Maternity  (same in light pink/black, similar)

Leggings: Target? Old Navy? I cannot remember.

Scarf: Momma

Boots: so old from Macy's