Lessons Learned from Grit Magazine

My first job, other than household chores such as cleaning the bathroom and vacuuming the stairs, was a newspaper route. Not one for a daily early morning daily commitment, I elected to deliver a weekly newspaper rather than a daily edition. I'm not sure how I came about this particular newspaper route, but Grit was the one for me. Each week I picked up a bundle of Grit magazines from the post office and set off on my bike to deliver them to my ever-loyal customers. Some weeks I was totally ambitious and got the papers delivered on the same day I received them; other weeks they sat in my closet for a day or two until my fourth grade lifestyle settled down enough to allow for delivery.

One time, however, the few days spread into weeks and the stack in my closet grew higher and higher. The procrastination started out legitimately enough as I missed the first week due to an asthma-related hospital stay. The next week the magazines came and I added them to the pile thinking I'd take care of them later. The following week they were added to the ever-ominous pile and the pile was then pushed back a little farther into the dark shadows of the closet. This continued on for a while - until Mom discovered it. I think I've blocked out the ensuing scene, but I'm sure you can probably imagine it. Recently, Mom told me, "I don't think I've ever been as mad at any of you kids as I was at that time."

Afterwards, Mom gave me the worst punishment possible - to go to each of my customers, apologize and ask them if they were still interested in purchasing old copies of the magazine. I was so embarrassed and humbled by this - my pride was shattered. Even more so when, out of pity for me, some people actually paid for the old news. For the ones that people didn't buy, I ended up buying myself.

Soon after that, I gave away my route but the lesson has stayed with me. I often find myself putting things off for (at first) a legitimate reason but then finding it hard to get back to. A perfect example of this is grading student papers; I have every intention of getting them graded and handed back within a week. But things like student advising, faculty meetings, sick kids, etc... happen and the grading gets put by the wayside - not in a dark closet, but by the wayside nonetheless, until the night before the self-imposed deadline. Thanks to my Grit lesson, I stay up most of the night and finish the job - because it's the right thing to do.

Even though I'm done with my paper route and student grading, I'm sure I'll find more things to procrastinate on - but I realize the lesson will stay with me and the job will eventually get done. Thanks for that lesson Mom.

Retirement

After having turned in my summer grades five minutes ago, I'm now officially retired. I'm exhausted. But I'm also
* happy
* excited
* off balance as I wander the house thinking, what should I be working on now?
* caught up on laundry
* thrilled to have actual fruits and vegetables in the refrigerator (vs. the canned kind)
* working on becoming a real cook - the kind that makes gorgonzola sauce to have with the tenderloin purchased from the specialty meat market
* reading four different books at one time
* a little short on attention span (hence the four books at one time)
* finding time to sit and read more than 3 books at a time to the kids
* videotaping the kids as they sing and act out "Pirates are we..."

All in all, "retirement" feels right to me - oh so very right.

Pilates (or as Jill said to call it - Marci the Magnificent)

Sometime this summer it is my one year anniversary of doing pilates. As is appropriate for all kinds of anniversaries, I thought a reflection seemed most appropriate. When I first started, I learned (and was quizzed on!) all kinds of new terms and analogies - core, reformers, trapeze table, etc... Now most of those terms seem like second nature - when Jill, my awesome pilates instructor, tells me to go to the reformer and do "coordination" I usually, even at 6 AM, know exactly what to do. When she says, "How's your core?" - I immediately tighten it up. The pic below is of that particular exercise and I do believe my core could have used a bit of tightening. :)

Overall, I'm much stronger but the pilates exercises certainly don't become easier because Jill has this thing with springs. When she notices that something looks a little bit easier and I'm not sweating as much, she tightens or loosens the springs and my body suddenly switches to "work" mode. In the mountain climbing exercise below the springs are fairly loose so my "core" has to work that much harder to keep me up in the air.

The barrel is another example of how adaptable everything is. In the past, I've used a hand pull thingie (I obviously can't think of its name) on my left hand to help my body do the work. If this particular picture could talk, you'd hear some groaning and a few "Oh my gosh!" utterings.

I'm loving pilates - the physical strength and stamina I'm building, and the mental well being I feel are all so wonderful. There certainly aren't many things that can get me out of bed at 5:45 AM two mornings a week, but pilates and my pilates company certainly can!

Book Club

I love people, I love food, and I love books - so what's not to love about bookclub?! The answer is nothing - and last night proved that once again. A group of four of us met on a restaurant terrace and enjoyed good food and drink as we talked about the book and numerous other topics. Shelley Harwayne, one of my favorite "professional" authors once said something like, "A good book is one you have to put down so you can think about it and discuss it." I like that quote because it captures the essence of literature and the purpose of book club. Although last night's book was not one that made us ponder life's bigger questions, it did provide us with newfound knowledge and awe of the orchestrators of Chicago's World Fair of 1893. People are larger than books - I know that is so not profound, but it's true. I truly enjoy the company of the other book club members and just sitting back and hearing them talk. They, not the books themselves, help make our bookclub successful.

For a full update of the meeting and other books we've read, you can go to the newly created blog, rrvwpbookclub.blogspot.com Enjoy!

Carpet Pulling

I think I went a little overboard on July 3 - and I think we'll be paying for it for a few weeks. On that day, as typical of most lately, I woke up to an extremely stuffy nose, itchy eyes, and dull headache. You'd think my allergies would be better right now - this is usually one time of the summer when I'm "sneeze free" but that certainly hasn't been the case. In my mind, it must have been the carpet in the bedroom. Before we moved into the house, we made quite a duststorm when we took the 2+ layers of wallpaper off the wall and had the walls skimcoated and then painted. I sneezed through that project. We then had the drapes professionally cleaned, we had the carpet professionally cleaned and moved in. But still I sneezed. The next step was to get new curtains entirely - a lightweight version that is easy to throw in the washer. Still I sneezed. We then looked to Davey-baby, but even when he was in the UK, I sneezed. :)

Obviously then, the next step was the carpet. Upon the verbalization of this idea, I was greeted with a resounding "NO!" by Dave. So, I did it myself, mostly. (He did help me get the bed over the carpet lump, drag it to the deck and throw it down to the patio. He also went and got the trailer so we could dump the padding, and then he did that job. And finally, he helped roll up the carpet itself and take it over to neighbor Bob's house for use in his basement.) We now have a bedroom floor with tufts of horsehair padding still stuck to it. The floor itself is in pretty good shape, but it could use a sanding and poly job...but I'm not sure I have the energy for that one, especially considering the family room is still full of boxes.

So here we are, sleeping in the attic amidst the chaos of the kids' toys, ignoring the "elephant" down the hall, and, unfortunately, still sneezing.

Independence Day, 2006

In chronological order, a photo recap of our busy day...

304B, Education Building - Now Empty; Family Room - Full

Well, it's done. I spent all day Monday and a bit of yesterday cleaning out my university office. Honestly, there wasn't a moment, or even a second, of sadness on my part. Others came in to check on my progress and a few tears were shed, but none from me. I am so at peace, so happy about my decision that all I feel is excitement.

Until I look at the boxes in the family room - and then go to my second floor office and see how full it already is with books that I brought home in May. Where in the world am I going to put all this stuff?!?! There'll be some serious recycling done in the next few weeks - I've decided to go through all the binders from the last 12 years and get rid of most of it. I mean really, if I haven't looked at my notes from Foundations of Educational Thought in the last two years, do I really think I'll look at them in the future? Do I really need to keep a paper I wrote on Mathematical Language in a Primary Classroom? Do I need to keep my class notes, plans and handouts from when I taught Intermediate Reading Language Arts? I seriously doubt it. So - all my notes, all the papers I ever wrote during my doctoral studies, all the binders filled with classes I taught and assignment guidelines, and even all my dissertation data will be recycled in the next week or so. (The '97 flood took care of all my highschool, undergraduate, and masters papers, as well as all my elementary teaching stuff.)

When I decide to go back to university teaching, things will have changed. All my precious state-of-the-art transparencies will be seen as archaic and out-of-date and I'll spend time recreating new ones anyway. There'll be new studies to read, new research to be gathered, and new students to teach. And, at that point, I'll be excited about teaching once again.

So - if anyone gets a huge kick out of going through old papers, notes, etc..., come join the fun. You'll find me on the back patio with a cup of coffee, loads of binders, a recycling bin and a garbage can close by.

High Tea

One of my favorite memories from a trip to Ireland is the High Tea served in our hotel lobby. Each afternoon I gathered with two or three women and enjoyed tea and scones with jam. I'm not sure if it was the "proper way" to have tea each afternoon or if it was a production done especially for tourists, but we loved it. There's something almost luxerious about sipping tea and gently dabbing jam on a scone while a pianist plays lovely background music. (By the way, "lovely" is a word I picked up from a wonderful Dubliner.)

I felt the same way when we visited Scotland and had dinner at the home of a college friend and his Scottish wife. After a wonderful meal was had and their daughter was rocked to sleep, Rhona put the kettle on and we had tea. Their obvious ritual of it was striking - taking time to let the day's worries slide away as they prepared and drank their tea, all the while talking with one another and enjoying the peacefulness of the evening. Perhaps that's something all of us could use a bit more of in our busy lives.

So, in honor of Dave being in the UK - the kids and I had tea Sunday afternoon. Sophie and I prepared the scones and we all gathered on the patio at 3:30. For their credit, they all tried the tea, but not a one finished their cup. I probably would have finished the pot off by myself if Linda, our next-door-neighbor, hadn't stopped by. So - there you go - the tea helped me take an hour or more on Sunday and just relax on the patio with a neighbor... can't ask for more than that.

Teacher Girl

Sophie teaching John about the map directions (using the shower curtain map)

Sophie: Never eat sour watermelon. Never eat soggy waffles. (I'm assuming she was pointing at the compass star, but I was in the other room so I can't be sure.)
John: What are sour watermelons? What are soggy waffles?
Sophie: See, Never and North start with N. Eat and East start with E.
John: Sour waffles?!?!
Sophie: John Boy, you little goofball.
John: That's when they go this way, that's for the other way. Okay? (Pointing at map, I'm assuming.)
Sophie: Allright.
John: G, where's G, we need to find G. G's right here.
Sophie: John, do you think Greenland is made of green?
John: Yes
Sophie: Do you think Iceland is mostly made of ice?
John: No
Sophie: Well, if you didn't know it was made of green grass, would you?
John: Yeah.
Sophie: Well, you know its made of green grass.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, they changed topics on me - talking about each of their different combs or brushes. (Lucy just got a new one today, as her old one broke the day before.)

Kids of a Traveling Man

I found this shower curtain at Target last week and since Dave is such as traveling man - thought it was very appropriate. I really liked the fact it showed all fifty states as well as the entire world. Now, when he's on a trip, the kids can look at the map and think about him and where he is.

Life is different without Dave around - it's like it just slows down a little bit because I'm more apt to play things by ear than go ahead and make all kinds of plans. He left Friday for the Isle of Man (Can you find it on the map? Our kids can!) and as of this morning, he's in Dublin. We certainly miss him, but it does seem like people rally to the occassion - making sure we're doing all right. For example, Sophie and Lucy take turns sleeping with me each night. This is not my choice, but theirs. It's as though they think I really do need to share my bed with someone each and every night. Wait until they grow up and get married and find that sometimes it really is very nice to sleep alone. Another example is dinner invitations - they come forth whenever Dave's out of town. (And I don't think it's because they don't enjoy his company!) As much as I enjoy eating with friends, I usually turn the invitations down. When I'm by myself with the kids, we all just take it easy and have relaxing evenings - dinner and bed by 8 pm. On a good night, baths are added to the mix and the kids are still in bed by 8.

When he's gone, I feel like I'm much more patient with the kids. My gut feeling on this is that it's because I know that if I lose my temper, he's not there to take over and give me a break. Actually, maybe it's not me at all - but rather all of us. They're working hard and keeping things running smoothly; together, we do a pretty darn good job.

There are also perks to the traveling - like his airline mileage points. We usually manage to get one family vacation in per year based on these. The kids just assume that most people their age have flown to the Bahamas once and to California and Arizona numerous times. For Sophie's birthday, she thought we should go to the Fairytopia in CA for the weekend - Lucy, too, was adamant that it was a good idea. After much discussion, I think I finally got across that it costs lots of money and that it is pretty special to be able to fly to vacation destinations.

So - on another day I'll finish this post with all the benefits of being a child or spouse of a traveling man...

Words I Never Thought Would Be Uttered...

As I drove the kids home from daycare tonight, I told them I was going to try out a new recipe and that they wouldn't believe its name... "Garbage Dump." As hoped for, the name got some giggles and comments such as, "I can't wait until tomorrow to tell Juliet that we ate garbage dump for supper." They were stoked to try it - as isn't usually the case when Dave is out of town and I'm doing the cooking.

Fast forward to supper, the dump was prepared (ableit a tadbit burned) and two out of the three kids reverted to their picky eater selves. This time comments such as "How much do I have to eat?" and "Can I just eat strawberries?" were scattered throughout the nighttime air. It was about this time the words that I'm sure have never been spoken by another human being came forth from my mouth, "C'mon kids, just eat your dump."

Let's just say I cracked up after that one.

P.S. The recipe consisted of plain old hamburger, sliced potatoes and onion (Yes Dave, I did put onions in it!), baby carrots, butter, and salt and pepper. All this was "dumped" into a tinfoil container and grilled (Yes Dave, I did turn on the grill!) for approximately 45 minutes (or about ten minutes too long, depending on how you look at it.)

Birthday Photos

As you can see, this post is mostly made up of photos from the celebrations yesterday. We had a gorgeous night - perfect for eating and opening presents outside. Sophie was most delighted with her presents and the fruit pizza she helped make. Most of the pictures including Lucy seem to be a bit blurry - do you think she was a bit excited?!

Happy Anniversary! Happy Birthday!

Each year, on this day, there's a lot of hugging and smiling going on - it happens to be both our wedding anniversary and Sophie's birthday. Nine years ago, on the afternoon of the 21st (after already being in labor since 6 am that morning) Dave looked at me and said, "Just hold out a few more hours Marci and the baby will be born on our anniversary." I'm sure I looked at him as though he were nuts and grunted out something to the effect of, "It better not be that long." (It probably wasn't that politely phrased though.) Well, she held out and sure enough, we now share the big day. She's always been so conscious of the sharing - often pointing out to strangers that not only is it her birthday, but it's also her mom and dad's anniversary. This morning she was in the bathroom brushing her hair when I first saw her. I barely got out the words, "Happy Birthday Sophie-girl" before she beamed at me and said, "Happy Anniversary."

Tonight we'll celebrate with a birthday supper of lasagna and then she'll help me make fruit pizza for her cake. Grandma Bev and Grandpa James will be here with us and we'll sit around the dining room table, remembering the nine years that make Sophie who she is.

Later, maybe next week, Dave and I will get a sitter and celebrate the 15 years that make us who we are - the couple who seems to disagree on anything political but who can't imagine life any differently.

The following are pics from the big days. (Take careful note of the size of those sleeves on my wedding dress - what was I thinking?!?!?!

Sleeping Outside

Saturday night was absolutely gorgeous here - cool with a little breeze and no mosquitos. We took the kids to the opening of a new exhibit at the local art museum, had an impromptu dinner gathering with friends, and then while Anna and I rode our bikes to Carm's house for banana cream pie, Dave made a fire. Relaxing it was. To top it all off, Dave mustered the energy to first find the air mattress ("No, it's not in the attic, nor the 2nd floor closet, maybe it's in the basement...") and then fill it up ("I guess the pump needs new batteries, I'll be right back..."). So, for the first time in like 30 years, we slept under the stars. From our small vantage point of dark blue sky (about 9x9) we saw a wonderful array of stars and the Big Dipper. In place of water lapping at the shore, I heard cars driving by, the crackle of a fire and eventually, the soft snores of Davey-baby. It was ever so peaceful.

Candle Holder by Dad

When Mom brought home a similar version of this candleholder, Dad, as is tradition among many men, saw it and thought, "You paid what for that candleholder? I could easily make you one!" So make one he did - and then he made a few more so that for Christmas, all four of us kids got one. I'm not sure if there were more than four made, but I do feel fortunate to be in possession of one.

Running Smiles

As hectic as Monday nights are around here - there is therapy to be found on Cushman Field from 5:30-8 pm. Each Monday night in June the park district holds a track meet for children up to age 12; the kids throw softballs, do the long jump and run in races from 50 m dashes to the dreaded 400 meter run. They start with the 4 and under age group which gets the whole crowd smiling and laughing- because these kids are smiling and having an absolute blast. They work their arms and legs so hard and motor along as quickly as their tiny legs will carry them. At times, in the 200 m, the younger children have this look on their face like, "What in the heck did Mom and Dad get me into?" but at the finish line, and afterwards, they are beaming once again. Last night, as I cheered on one of the 4 and under boys, he looked over at me and gave me this puzzled look as if to say, "What do you mean 'good job?' What do you mean, 'Keep going, you're doing great?' Are you a crazy lady?!?!"

Everyone gets a participation ribbon and those ribbons are treated like gold - as they should be because it can't be easy to be under two feet tall and run halfway around a track. So, hats off to all you young ones who smile your way through each Monday night in June - thanks for helping all of us smile along with you.

Perils of Colorblindedness

For Dave's Father's Day present, we got him one of those laser beam leveler things. You know what I mean - they're for when you need a long, straight line on the wall. All you do is place it on the wall, turn it on and a red beam flashes across the wall. Voila! A perfect gift for the dad who is going to hang curtains on Father's Day. At least it's the perfect gift for all dads who aren't colorblind.

The kids were pretty excited to see the beam flash on the wall, so Dave put in the batteries, placed it on the sage green kitchen wall, and turned it on. As we all oohed and aaahed, he got a funny look on his face. I looked at him, looked at the red beam on the green wall and burst out laughing. (As did he, quite sheepishly.) Apparently, they should make a laser beam thing especially for those men who are colorblind, or they should at least have a warning label on the package.

The kids have enjoyed playing with it though - the picture above was taken while John sat on Dave's lap and flashed the beam all around the room.

Happy Father's Day Dad!

Fathers, just like anybody else, come in all shapes and sizes and temperments. Some relaxed and carefree in the sense of a happy-go-lucky style, others more intense, always on the go. I feel so very lucky to have a dad who is a combination of the two, albeit a bit more toward the latter. He's always got a project going - whether it be building a winter home in Sedona, creating candleholders out of metal, or making sand out of gravel - yet he does find time to relax. In the midst of all chaos, you'll find him wrapped up in a book or newspaper - unware of anything else around him. Or you'll find him in front of the computer, playing one of numerous kinds of Solitaire.

His latest relaxation habit, but also a project of sorts, is capuring the wildlife that surrounds Mom and Dad's Sedona home. I think it started out as pure relaxation - watching the coyotes gather courage and come closer and closer to the house, seeing the birds flit from the bath to the trees and back again, and again and again. Then he started taking pictures - first with a disposable camera and then a 35mm and finally a fancy-dancy digital one. Now, from an observer's vantage point, the photography has become more of a project. When we went to a wildlife refuge in March, he was intent on getting the animals in their natural habitat and quickly became frustrated with the people and the chainlink fences and the distance some of the animals were from him. He showed some patience though and soon found a way to get some wonderful pictures of lions tearing apart meat, blood dripping from his enormous teeth. (Personally, I was pretty happy about the chainlink fences!) Sophie tagged along with him, patiently waiting for him to get just the right shot before they moved on down the line of animals. Afterward, she, along with the rest of us, were enthralled with the pictures - the detail in all the close-ups making our trip so much more memorable.

Thanks Dad - for all your intensity, your patience, and your drive to keep learning. You've taught us all so much. I love you!

Sticky Notes

Within two class periods, it's obvious to my university students that I'm a sticky note hound. We use them to help organize our thinking before and during class discussions and to mark important passages within the text. As we go through various assessment forms to use with their future students, they use sticky notes to mark what they particularly like or dislike about the individual form. I use them as I take anecdotal notes and when I write brief comments to students. In my early days of teaching, I even used them as I graded student papers. I wrote my comment on a postit note and affixed it to the student's paper because I thought (for some reason) that I shouldn't write directly on their papers - that it might be defacing them in some way. Well, that didn't last but a semester or two before I realized how much faster it is to write a comment directly on a student's paper than on a post-it note. (However, I still take care not to use the dreaded red pen.)

Recently Dave and I watched a movie where the main character, an investigative reporter, did his best thinking with a marker and a blank wall. He wrote his thoughts directly onto the wall and when his problem was solved, repainted the wall to give himself a blank slate for the next time. I found I could totally relate to him - give me a pack of sticky notes and a large space on which to place them and you never know what just might show up. When I was creating the syllabus for the graduate class I'm currently teaching I ended up going to an empty classroom and using the chalkboard to help create a "graphic organizer" of sorts - that way I could see the three week class all spread out and see if the preliminary planning made sense. Today, we're on Day 8 of 12 and so far so good. Thank you sticky notes and big spaces!

Family of Chefs

At three years of age, when Sophie was asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, she always replied, "A cook like Mommy." For those of you who know me and my culinary habits, you get the joke. For the rest of you, be happy that she has changed her mind and there won't be another "Doesn't everything get cooked on high?" cook in this family. But I digress...

A few years ago we gave Sophie the Better Homes & Garden Jr. Cookbook for her birthday and she delights in trying out new recipes. Last week's creation was "Celebration Cookie Pizza." John and Lucy also played major parts in the production - with John scooping peanut butter out of the jar and Lucy taking care of the yogurt for us. We shared it with Charlotte and Eleanor as well as Linda and Bob's clan - all to rave reviews.

The nice thing about having a family of chefs is the interest they take in food preparation. Lately, Sophie & Lucy have treated us each weekend to pancake or waffle mix. They get the mix all ready and then Dave does the cooking. Last weekend we got another treat in that Sophie had washed and cut up a humongo bowl of fresh strawberries. In the winter, we often made chocolate chip muffins before school - now that was a treat. :)

Birthday presents that indulge the "inner cook" in the children have been wonderful. I'm all for disposable birthday presents and presents with a cooking theme fit in perfectly. At Christmas, Mom gave Sophie and Lucy their own aprons and measuring cups, etc.. along with a baking mix. One of them was for cut-out cookies and I think the other was for pizza. (Note for Mom: there's a present idea for John!) Lucy, for her January birthday, received a fudge-making kit from Melanie. We had a wondful time making the fudge and then sharing it with Melanie's family.

All in all, cooking has been a wonderful thing to share with the kids - it may often take a bit longer and be a bit messier than if I did it myself - but their smiles are worth it!