Labor Day Labors

Hello Blog.
I've been a recalcitrant blogger lately. But that's okay, especially since I used the word "recalcitrant" in this entry. I should be doing other things. School starts on Tuesday, and I have numerous tasks to complete- like configuring seating charts, writing my classroom rules in big, bold, teacherly letters, going over my lesson plans for the week, and what not. (I will pause here. Dave has just entered with a warm brown bag of greasy Chinese food. Which, after my strenuous Wii Fit work-0ut, I feel entitled to indulge in.)

Today I spent nearly all day working in my new classroom. Ari and Dave came too and helped me rearrange desks and hang posters. I really love the beginning of the school year. I got my list of students on Thursday, so I can read over their names and wonder who they'll be. Some of my kids came by also, all nervous and embarrassed by their parents.

In other news, I'm thinking of changing Ari's daycare. I love the place he's currently going, but I found out that there's home day care on the air force base that is so much less expensive...like half as much. So we'd be saving $700 a month. And since it's only a block away from my school, I could check in on him during my lunch break, and pick him up right after school. So he'd be spending less time in daycare. Still, I'm conflicted. I really do like the woman that cares for Ari- Dave and I both feel she's given Ari top notch care. So I'm hesitant to change things. Also, I feel bad for taking him out- I don't want her to think we were unsatisfied. So Dave and I are both having a hard time with this. Any thoughts?

in which I battle insomnia and hone my Scramble skills

So for the past couple weeks, I've been having dreadful sleep problems. Part of this is due to the kid's unpredictable sleep schedule- an aside, if you happen to run into your exhausted mother-of-an-infant friend, the preferred question is not, "So is he sleeping through the night yet?" Because it's so much more complex than any yes or no answer could provide, and you honestly don't want me to get into the numerous variables and planet/star alignments that must occur in order for Ari to reach that golden stretch of sleep between the hours of 11 pm and 6 am.

In addition to infant induced insomnia (I'm totally proud of my alliteration there), I also struggle with sleep when I lack a regular daily schedule. Since I'm a teacher, the summer months are pretty much anything goes. So since Ari's been going to daycare now and I don't start school for another week, I have the freedom to nap after I drop him off. Which is way too luxurious! There are few things I enjoy more in this world than a good midday nap. Something about sprawling out in bed when the rest of the world is at work is perfectly delightful. But a three hour midday nap completely ruins my sleep cycle. I know, you have such pity for me.

Which brings me to my initial point (or as much of a point as I can conjure during this 12:09 AM rambling). I have begun playing Scramble on Facebook in earnest. I've gotten tired of beating my spouse regularly (hee, take that out of context), and I am currently being trounced by the other folks I play, namely my sister-in-law. So how do you Scramble geniuses get such high scores? What's your secret? At best, I can manage 70, 80 points a round, if I really flex. I know, it's just a stupid game, but really, I'm curious. I have no idea where you find the bizarre words that end up at the end of the game. So do tell!

Shout out

So every so often, I check the counter at the bottom of my page, and I'm amazed to see that there's been 100 or so hits on my blog. At first I feel a gush of pride and think, gosh, someone actually wants to read about me. And okay, I realize that probably 87 or so of those hits are from me incessantly occasionally checking the counter. But still, that means that maybe thirteen people are reading my blog! So who are you thirteen people, and where did you find me? Do tell! I would quite enjoy meeting you, so if you'd like, introduce yourselves! And because I'm a sucker for picture posts, here's one of my experimenting-with-the-new-camera shots. I'm working on depth of field and using the macros setting.

August-time

August has always been my least favorite month. The novelty of summer has worn off- June's blooms hang heavy and wilted, the air is humid and tired, and boredom sets in. Worst yet, August means back to school. I know, as a teacher, it seems juvenile for me to cringe at the anticipation of another school year. After all, this is my life's work, my chosen field. And in some respects I am excited. When I was a kid, I loved brand new school supplies, especially brand spanking new crayons- the waxy smell, the bright yellow box, perfect crayon tips unspoiled by that kid that always pressed down too hard. So the equivalent of new school supplies to a teacher, I think, is brand new students. That first week is pretty magical. I can wonder about the amazing potential of these bright new faces until they prove me otherwise. And of course, I don't use crayons much anymore, but opening a brand new pack of fresh dry erase markers does have a certain appeal.

In other news, Dave got me a new camera for my birthday. Darned if I can figure out how to use it yet, but I'm working on it. So here's a picture of zoo giraffe that I'm particularly proud of.

identification

I didn't intend for this blog to be only about motherhood, but since it occupies such a large part of my life right now, I think it might be a lot of what I'll write about. I've had a lot on my mind in terms of being a mother, so I think I'll just write what comes- I apologize if this seems disjointed.

So this summer I've had a little taste of what staying at home with Ari full time would be like, and I have to admit, I think I might go a little batty if I didn't eventually go back to work. I feel a twinge of guilt saying that. And then I feel incredulous for feeling guilty. I mean, isn't that what the whole women's movement was all about- letting women pursue lives beyond just motherhood. So I'm torn in this perpetual see-saw between feeling like a lousy mother and feeling like an unliberated woman. I do enjoy spending time with Ari. Sometimes, I feel like I could sit on the floor with him for hours and roll the same ball back and forth eternally. And then I wish I could be anywhere else but in my apartment on the carpet rolling a ball back and forth with my preverbal son. And that's when the guilt sets in.

I've tried to avoid feeling isolated by spending time with other moms who have babies the same age as Ari. It's pleasant to get out of the house, but I have to admit it doesn't really fulfill my social needs completely. Most of the moms I've met are extremely nice, but I don't always find the conversation stimulating. It is helpful commiserating with other parents about sleep issues and teething or getting tips on feeding solids, or comparing poop war stories, but the conversation never seems to move past that. I crave company with other adults for the sake of just talking about non-baby related topics. I don't know if I would actually be friends with these moms if we didn't have the baby thing in common.

A while back, my sister-in-law, who is younger than me and about to be married, asked if I felt like a mother. I had a hard time answering her. I deal with this question internally on a constant basis. When I am pushing Ari in the stroller, sometimes I glance at my reflection in store windows. I ask myself, "Do I look like this baby's mother? Am I playing the part right?" Sometimes I feel more confident than other times. Often, when I am at a playgroup or around other moms, I feel self-conscious. Like I don't look "mommy" enough, whatever that means. But other times, I definitely know I feel like Ari's mother. Like when I'm holding him close feeding him, and I have this irresistable urge to kiss him all over. Or when he cries, and I can tell exactly what he wants. Or when we're out doing errands, and a stranger swoops in too close, and I feel this primitive urge to protect him at all cost. Or at night, when he's quiet in his crib, and I'm exhausted but can't sleep, because I worry if he's still breathing.

So this whole motherhood thing takes practice I guess. As I write this, Ari is happily gnawing on the coffee table leg, running his tongue along the dust. And who said puppies were more fun? Anyhow. Here's some pictures I took at the zoo yesterday. It was blisteringly hot, and Ari and the other mammals had about the same idea.