11.30.11

What a day! 


As I readily received all the love today--and truly, the day was incredible--I was fully prepared to give it all back in return.


I took some gifts to the office ladies this morning. Who says you can't give a gift on your birthday?


I then spent a half hour commenting on all of the facebook well-wishes. I had to return the love! As most people are on their birthday via facebook, I am overwhelmed by so many kind words--heart literally swelling!


So I kept the giving going, and shared some love at my yoga class tonight. Per usual, it was me giving as much as I was receiving. I have the most fabulous yogis that practice with me on Wednesdays. I ended with a poem from my favorite yoga book (that I quoted the other night), and I thought I'd wrap up November's love with a summary:


You (yes you, dear reader--I'm speaking directly to you) are more than your iPhone, more than your email, more than your commute to and from work, more than your playlist, your workout, your mortgage, your savings account, your to-do list. You are a bright beacon of light. You are warmth. Those who come across your path cannot help but be touched by your presence. You exude goodness. Your mind speaks what your heart feels. Your heart feels what your soul bares. And every part of it, every last drop, is beautiful. Others revel in your beauty. Pure and simple, you are love. 


Thank you for sharing a piece of that with me today. I am...blessed.


I can't believe it's arrived, but the last intention of the year is...

11.29.11

It's snowing.


My Christmas tree is twinkling. 


Pretty soon I'll be snuggled in my bed. 


And if I wake up to a birthday snow, it will make for one magical birthday! 


On that note, I have to wish a very happy birthday to my mom. Poor girl was in labor with me on her birthday 31 years ago, and she rang in the last year of her 20s in pain! My siblings and I have cooked up quite the surprise for she and my stepdad as they both turned 21 this year (21 + 39) and they will celebrate 20 years of marriage in January. It's a big year, and we want to fill it with love for them. Happy Birthday Mom! Love you!

My grandma with my mom at 5 weeks old, my mom with me at 5 weeks old, and me with Will at 5 weeks old. I am part of a line of fantastic women (and Will). 

11.28.11

I've been reflecting quite a bit lately on the blog.


Often times, it involves, "What to write about tonight?"


Other times, the thought is, "What will become of this thing on January 1?" 


Mostly, though, every night I think, "How can I pour my heart out and still continue to inspire others tonight?"


This leads to me thinking about the evolution of photographs (it's a random connection, but bear with me). Remember when you had to go to CVS and wait three days to get your pictures? Remember when you took a photo because you wanted to capture that moment and not because you wanted to online post brag about where you are--and make sure you got your best angle?


Remember when you wanted a professional photo, and you went to Sears? Or waited for the church directory photo? A (extremely talented and beautiful) photographer friend of mine recently blogged about how everyone's photos now look the same, all the photographer's logos look the same, and there isn't anything uniquely captured anymore. You can read it all here. 


I feel this way about blogs--about this blog, its evolution, where it will go. Am I writing what everyone has already done? Does the world really need another mommy blog or yogi blog or cooking blog or pregnancy blog or DIY home blog? 


Nah.


What I do know is that I love to write.


And in this moment, it's about all I know.

11.27.11

I love my husband.


No, I mean I really love him.


For every moment that I lose patience or faith, he reminds me of my strength.


Each instance I find myself weary and teary, his embrace brings a smile.


In the days I am wallowing and grumpy, he grounds me, reminds me of the good.


Having him in my life fulfills just about every intention of the year: Joy, Fun, Longevity, Luck, Wealth, Health, and oh my goodness Love!


I was flipping through one of my favorite books tonight--I've excerpted out of it before. This one's for G.


Together
We call down grace,
and gaze without wavering
into the fires of creation.


We find the place where
love embraces fear, and
tears taste like faith.


We let our radiance
be revealed in laughter
and in longing.


We hold the whole of life,
sweet grapes and bitter,
healing herbs--


We hold until we overflow 
and offer back the gifts
that we've received.


The vessel never empties.
The growing love between
us keeps it filled.


from Go In and In: Poems from the Heart of Yoga by Danna Faulds

11.26.11

We must be crazy.


It's not enough that we turn our worlds upside down next year by adding a second child. Oh no. We like to keep things incredibly interesting.


So we decided to sell our house and build a new one. 


Never mind that moving is in the top ten most stressful things you can do in your life, right up there with having a baby. Let's just do it all, drink heavily breathe deep, and get through it. 


Now I love a clean house--who doesn't, right? 


Two days ago, this house was immaculate. 


And then I got the holiday decorations out, half finished putting them up, and left the bins scattered about (on the floor, no less, where Will has easy access to pull out random ornaments and leave them in random places--like the toilet). And then at 4:00 this afternoon, we headed to Home Depot to pick up odds and ends to begin finishing what we've lived with for the past six years--unpainted trim, drywall holes, and cracked tile, to name a few. 


Upon coming home, we jumped right in, didn't hold back, and while I was busy spilling the pan of paint in the one carpeted room of the house, Will was busy unrolling an entire roll of paper towels, pulling out all the trash bags, and using paint stirrers as drum sticks.


Yep. Certifiably crazy.


But way excited about what could potentially come.

11.25.11

Everybody has traditions this time of year. 


The day after Thanksgiving, Greg and I typically find a "marathon" on TV and curl up to watch. We don't really leave the house, we have pie for breakfast, graze on leftovers, and we truly enjoy a day off from everything. 


Today was no exception, except in how many hours we spent with that marathon (only two straight while Will napped), and except that we left the house (to go to the park and grab lunch), and except that we ended with an ABC family movie, and a two-year-old curled up on my lap (a two-year-old who got to stay up way past his bedtime). 


And while next year we won't have two hours straight to do anything, we certainly took the time to love every moment of today, and anticipate loving everything about next year, too.

11.24.11

The house is empty.


Not ten minutes ago, it was holding twelve tired, food-coma guests, gathered around a fire with a football game in the background.


Now, the only hint that they were here is the smell of after-dinner coffee, the hum of the dishwasher, and a few scattered candles that are still warm. 


This afternoon we filled our home, we filled bellies, and I filled my cup. And although I do wish that cup had been filled with a glorious red wine, I instead filled my cup with love and laughter, just as I said I would yesterday.


This morning's race was a success. Greg and I pounded the pavement with 15,000 other hungry runners willing to work for their food, and I crossed the finish line smiling (and maybe even a little teary), grateful for my tired and sore hardworking legs, and my encouraging husband and cooperative son by my side.


The beautiful thing about this blog is that you probably knew this already. I've been able to share my gratitudes for the last three hundred and thirty-seven evenings. 


Each experience of this year I am grateful for. Each fear, triumph, laugh, and tear. And I am forever grateful that I have been able to share it all with you. I am grateful for you.


Happy Thanksgiving, sweet reader. Cheers to you.

11.23.11

I had two tremendous helpers today. Will was easily bribable with m&ms--he helped me dust and mop and scrub and polish. Olivia is a perfectionist, so she was all too eager to help me perfect my table setting.


Everything is prepped for tomorrow. The cherry pie is baked.

The pumpkin bread is ready for Bobby Flay's bread pudding. The cranberry sauce is chilled. The potatoes are begging to be peeled, diced, boiled, and mashed. 


The table is beautiful, if I do say so myself. 

The only person who isn't ready is, well, me.


I am beyond nervous for the Turkey Day race tomorrow. This seems like a silly thing to say, even as I type it.


Why? Will I have to pee? How much will I have to walk? How cold am I going to be? Will Will be okay in the stroller? How much pain will this cause after the race? Am I really okay to do this five months pregnant? 


I don't know. That's the answer. To all of it. And not knowing gives me butterflies (and nausea and indigestion).


So I'm going out there to have fun. Isn't that what it's about anyway? Oh, and did I mention I get to do it with Greg and Will, the two people I love the most? 


Tomorrow I will revel in love. I will be full of gratitude. I will run and walk and eat and laugh and hug and give thanks for the ability to do it all. 

11.22.11

I try to keep myself out of politics. 


It's just too...political.


But this, this here, managed to combine yogic thought with the Occupy Wall Street movement, and I can't stop reading these words over...and over...again.


"Love is the felt experience of connection to another being. An economist says 'more for you is less for me.' But the lover knows that more of you is more for me too. If you love somebody their happiness is your happiness. Their pain is your pain. Your sense of self expands to include other beings. This shift of consciousness is universal in everybody, 99% and 1%." ~ Charles Eisenstein


I thank my friend Susi N. for sharing this video today. The Occupy _____ movement may not be the solution, but the collective thought is there. Things should change. Feel the shift. Occupy your heart.


It's Thanksgiving week. Enjoy the connections.

11.21.11

Growing up I had a cocker spaniel named Snuffy.


When my mom was mad that she was making our new house messy, she gave her to my dad. I loved that dog. Loved her. 


I had a feeling one Tuesday evening after Taco night at my dad's house that it would be the last time I'd see her. She chased me out to the car, jumping and barking, as if to ask me for just one more little hug and cuddle. She never did that.


A few days later, my dad came by my mom's to tell us in person that Snuffy had died. (He said she'd just laid down in the middle of the driveway and perhaps had a seizure, but it wasn't until just a couple years ago that my dad confessed she'd been hit by a car.)


I think I swore off dogs. Maybe I started believing that they were just too messy, too much of a burden, too heart breaking. 


And then I met Greg, who had a serious love for labradors. Greg started volunteering at a lab rescue, and really, it was only a matter of time. 


We'd lived together three months in our little Mariemont townhouse. It was Thanksgiving weekend, and the rescue needed people to take home foster dogs for the long weekend to make room for out-of-towners' dogs in the kennel.


Greg took me to the rescue, seven years ago today, and that is where we met Seamus.


He was quickly renamed "Cooper," after Gordon Cooper, one of Greg's childhood heroes. 


As we were sitting on the ground in the rescue play area, watching dogs and interacting with them, Cooper lifted a leg and peed all over Greg.


We knew he was ours. 


He had a sunburnt coat, fly bites on his ears ("That fur will grow back!" we were assured), and a thyroid issue that he needed meds for, but he was sweet as can be.


After Thanksgiving, I remember saying to Greg, "We can't keep him! Look at how much fur he sheds! Our house will never be clean!" 


(Oh the silly things you say in your early 20s.)


The fur on his ears never grew back, the house is always coated in a fine layer of fur, his separation anxiety led to us investing in another dog...or two...or three...(and forcing Greg to take Cooper to work every day for a year), and he has eaten several hundred dollars in shoes, pillows, Glucosamine, Crisco, pies, and wooden blocks and puzzle pieces.


But my heart has grown an entire size bigger with the affection and love I have for him--and for dogs in general. 


Today he's nine...ish. Not sure. He has funny lumps that are probably awful tumors that would cost us thousands of dollars that we don't have to treat. But every night when he curls up next to me and lays his head on my shoulder, I have to think that he probably loves us just as much as we love him. 

11.20.11

Aside from the obvious reasons, I feel like this week is one of those times when we really reflect on our gratitude.


My gratitude has evolved over the years. I can remember being thankful for mashed potatoes, and puppies, and Zack Morris, and Tiffany songs twenty years ago. And then I was thankful for boyfriends and best friends and light beer and the "A" in Public Administration even though I hadn't a clue what the class was about. 


Those somewhat superficial, materialistic things have evolved even more, to a point where now I am grateful for every experience I've had--for the "As" and the "Ds;" for my current love and those from the past; for friendships that are strong and friendships that have fizzled; for epic failures and glorious successes; for tears shed and laughter shared; for periods of sadness and spans of joy; for every place I've been lucky enough to travel to, and for the places I have yet to explore; for family, near and far, souls here and souls passed; for moments of complete and total chaos and stress, and moments of blissful peace. 


Yesterday, I watched this Beyonce video, three times, just because. 


It stirred my memory pot, got me reflecting, and I hear the words again and again: I was here. I lived, I loved.


Happy week of gratitude. May you revel in your reflections of all the love in your life.

11.19.11

My little heart is breaking right now.


The last couple of nights, Will has wanted to fall asleep with his mama. He wraps his little arms around my neck, gives me kisses, and then nuzzles his face in my cheek.


But even after just a couple of nights, it's become this awful habit that we don't want to start.


So here I sit, blogging about it, while he is crying and screaming for me in the other room. 


I hope he doesn't think this means I don't love him, because it couldn't be further from the truth. 


Now, more than ever, this mama loves him--the kind of love that makes your heart want to burst and break all at the same time, the kind of love only a mom could have for her son. 


Yep, heart breaking and bursting, right now.

11.18.11

I am in love with another Friday night of dinner, a fire, and priceless family time (and plotting out my Thanksgiving tablescape).


All that's missing is a glass of wine. In due time, though, right?


For now, I'll give away that whole bottle of wine, marzipan chocolate, and Rosetta Stone. Your French was very impressive, my readers! Félicitations à Cole! Tu as gagné le prix! Hopefully it makes your back feel better! Let me know the easiest way to get it to you. 


Thanks for loving on life a bit with me this week. Cheers to your weekend.

11.17.11

Down and out with a sore throat (can I please be healthy for the holidays? Pretty please?) I am finding myself blogging tonight in an incredibly quiet house. Greg has taken Will out for a bit, and here I sit, computer, tea, and Snuggie. If Carrie Bradshaw were ever the suburban housewife, I envision this is how she'd write (as opposed to martini hangover in lingerie with city view, cigarette and recovery martini by her side).


There is something beautiful in silence, isn't there? 


It has gifted me the chance to read back through last night's comments, both here and on facebook. I found myself reading each one, nodding my head in agreement and figuring out what it is, exactly, I eventually came to not like about surprises.


Like Holly, I absolutely love surprising other people. A cup of tea for a sick co-worker; an unexpected greeting card, or flowers, or sweet treats for a friend, just because; heck, even throwing Will in his "Big Brother" shirt and waiting until people figured it out was super fun!


And Mindy said that it's the little unplanned givings of life that surprise us, help us out, change our paths, guide us to something we weren't expecting. Those surprises are good, too.


So where I've deduced my lack of enthusiasm for the "surprise," is in knowing one is coming. The impatient five-year-old girl meets the Type-A plan-ahead thirty-year-old and I literally. Can't. Stand. It. 


But I am completely okay with it.


I could, perhaps, through further meditation practice, train myself to just stay in the moment, to not anticipate so much, and yet it's a little quirk about myself that I think I rather like.


Maybe I even love. 


SURPRISE! to Holly--the winner of this sweet treat. And I have your address! Look for it soon.


So tonight is the last giveaway of the month, and I have to address my love of--what else?--France.


Some of my fondest college memories took place on French soil (and on trains to other amazing places), and I've been so lucky to go back and visit so many times since then. I love Paris; I love the Eiffel Tower when it twinkles; I love cheese and bread and wine and mousse au chocolat; and I love speaking the beautiful language--and sharing it with hundreds of teenaged brains. 


Tonight's giveaway is a France-loving package. You will win:

• bottle of Vouvray wine, your choice of color (the one vineyard I toured while in France)
• my favorite marzipan-filled chocolates
• Rosetta Stone for French, so that you learn some of this amazing language or brush up on it, and inspire yourself to take a trip (and make like Carrie Bradshaw in some fabulous hotel suite in Paris)

All you need to do is impress me with your French. :o) Go ahead; use Google translator. Leave a comment and tell me why you'd love some French flair in your life.

11.16.11

So here's something I don't love: surprises.


This is why I often ruin birthday presents, Christmas gifts, and of course, why I have to find out what the babies are before they enter the world. It's also why I dislike last-minute faculty meetings, missed calls from people I haven't heard from in ages, and those dumb e-mail forwards where you watch a video and halfway through feeling enthralled by it, some guy with a chainsaw and disfigured face pops on the screen.


I think that I'm in the minority on this disliking surprises, so tonight's giveaway is...a surprise! One hint: it has to do with food. 


If you are willing to take your chances (and really, would I make it something bad?), leave a comment telling me how much you love surprises and why. I feel like I need to be convinced they are worth it! 


Congratulations to Rachel, Laura S., Jen, Melissa, and Laura H. for winning the flowers, and thank you for leaving such kind words and inspiration for my teacher friend! Message me your mailing address (and which flower you think you'd prefer), and I'll send them your way.

11.15.11

Tonight's giveaway supports a cause near and dear to my heart.


I think I've made it pretty obvious: I.LOVE.my.job.


I have a dear friend who works with our special needs students at my school. She has the patience of, well, all teachers combined, I think. She spends her day with various learning disabilities, autism spectrum disorders, and mental illnesses. 


And they are all boys.


Since she is the mom to four boys, she handles them beautifully, but she needs to get them out--out of her classroom, out into the world. 


You see, on a recent field trip, she noticed that once they were out of their tiny box of a classroom (and it is tiny), they smiled. They laughed. It was like they broke free of their labels and disorders and illnesses, and for a few hours they were carefree regular kids. (You can read her blog about the field trip here.)


But my dear friend, she funded this field trip on her own. Our district's levy failed; there is absolutely no money to get them back out.


She and her Crafty Cathy assistant came up with a plan: Flowers for Field Trips handmade by the Boys of Room 107. (You can read about her plan here.)


Tonight I'm giving away five of these flowers--they are adorable little things to pin on a scarf, a sweater, a jacket, a purse (very etsy...and I love etsy!). And every last dime goes toward helping these kids feel like...kids. 

All you have to do is comment with a well-wish for the Boys of Room 107 and their tremendous teacher.


And if you just want to support the cause, or you'd like to purchase a flower yourself (they are $3), you can contact this tremendous teacher at cecehester@gmail.com.


I was crazy impressed with your lululemon love submissions! Like Laura, I wear my Wunder Unders constantly in the winter. Like Jenna, I've donated all of my other running shorts (except the only pair that doesn't make me currently have to pee when I run, which means they are an enormous old pair). And like many of you, about a year ago I had no idea what I was missing out on either! 


The winner of the lululemon gift card (as selected by randomizer.org) is...Krystin Macaluso! (Message me your address, girl!) 

11.14.11

First and foremost, thank you all for your well wishes and congratulations. Greg and I are both overwhelmed with your posts, texts, emails, and phone calls! We feel lucky to bring another kid into this world who is already so loved. 


There have been requests for bump pics. We took this after the doctor, pre-gym today, and we are at 22 weeks. I owe any ounce of flattery to the lululemon top (which brings me to my next giveaway...in a moment). 

It was a lovely day, really. It was nice to spend time with Greg, just the two of us. Gym time, lunch out, errands (that included a trip to Ikea for a new rug for the nursery), putting the nursery back together (I went through all of Will's old clothes--bin after bin after bin--and restocked the dresser with newborn stuff. It's hard to remember him so tiny!!), and play time at the park with Will this evening.


Now, I have to share this next story (I'll get to the giveaway, I promise) because it's an hour later and I'm laughing, and Greg made me feel better with a trip to Graeter's for a chip wheelie.


After dinner, Will and I were wrestling, when Will took it to the next level. As I lay on the floor, he grabbed his Handy Manny toolbox and before I could protest, skull smashed me, square in the forehead. It left a little something like this:

I bawled my little eyes out. I felt like the criminal in Home Alone. It was hard to be angry--mainly because I was in so much pain--but mostly because he didn't do it to be malicious. So how do you teach your kid they can't skull smash people with tool boxes? I'm open to any and all suggestions...especially since I'm bringing another one into the world...


Now for the giveaway. Your posts about reading to your kids were awesome--they were sweet and heartfelt and I loved reading them. Randomizer.org picked one winner, and that winner is Vicki Zeinner. Congratulations Vicki! We will chat at work tomorrow about delivery method. 


Today's giveaway has to do with my love for lululemon clothes. I am obsessed with how they feel, wear, wash, and wear again. And the way they lift the tush is superb. The black tanktop in the above photo was my summer wardrobe. I wore it at least three times a week. And it still looks great (and I've heard it won't be stretched out by my growing belly--score!). 


The problem with lululemon clothing, you see, is it is entirely too easy to spend hundreds of dollars on adorable stuff. This can wreak havoc on your checking account (unless, of course, you have a bottomless account, in which case, lucky you!).


So I'm going to spread the lululemon love--$25 lulu gift card is up for grabs, just for sharing in the comments either a.) why you already love lulu or b.) why you are convinced you should take the plunge and try them out. Randomizer.org will pick a winner tomorrow night! 

I found the lululemon manfiesto with a "love" in it. :o)

11.13.11

I could not be more excited to go to the doctor tomorrow and find out whether Will gets a brother or a sister.


Seriously.


I can't stop thinking about it!


But I shall put my excitement aside and apply it instead to this month's giveaways!


That's right--plural!


This is going to be like a poor man's Oprah's Favorite Things episode. It's going to be awesome.


So here's how it will work: every night this week (tonight through Thursday), I will be posting one of my favorite things. To win it, you just need to comment on that night's post about why you, too, love it. The winner will be announced the following evening, and I'll contact you for shipping information.


Tonight's Favorite Thing appeals to the mom and reader in me. Since I don't have time to read  myself, I take great pleasure in reading three books a night to Will (even if we get stuck in our rotation of the same ones for weeks at a time). So tonight's giveaway is three of my favorite books to read to Will (and they all have to do with love!):

I get slightly annoyed by saying "Little Nutbrown Hare" and "Big Nutbrown Hare" that they often get shortened to "Little Bunny" and "Big Bunny," but this book is mushy to a degree that I get goosebumps but no tears. Score.

A great book for moms and sons. Will likes it when the mom makes a mountain of hamburgers for her meat-eating dinosaur. 

How can I resist, "I am your favorite book; you are my new lines. I am your night-light; you are my starshine."??? Love.


Maybe these are already a part of your library, or maybe you are ready to give all three a place on your bookshelf. Why do you love reading books to your kids?

11.12.11

On Saturday, she rested.


Probably since mid-August, I have been in complete "GO" mode. It's no one's fault but my own. So today, I rested.


And I loved every second of it.


Actually, it began yesterday. I took off after lunch. I've battled some form of a cold for a week and it was time to surrender. I went home, tossed all the makings for homemade chicken soup into the crockpot, made a cup of tea, and curled up with my dogs for a nap. I enjoyed an evening by the fire, and a full night's sleep (thank you Tylenol PM!). 


Today began with coffee, swimming lessons (I watched!), homemade banana bread, and it's ending with another fire. 


I am grateful for the opportunity to just stop--to give myself the best medicine I can: downtime, homemade goodness, and love.

11.11.11

"We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude." -Cynthia Ozick


With a heart full of love, thank you, to all who who have served, currently serve, and will serve.


With last night's full moon, and today's special date, it is the perfect time--literally the stars are aligned--to set intentions. What do you want to manifest? 


Send it out, with your heart open and ready to receive. 

11.10.11

Today, I love two things.


1. I love that I get to go see Wicked for a fourth time tonight, and celebrate friendship with one of my most favorite friends.
2. I love that it flurried today, and that my students' hearts were racing and their voices went up five octaves as they exclaimed that it was, in fact, snowing outside. I love even more that I texted another favorite friend back and forth about the white stuff--so festive in November, so not in March. Remind us of this pure love for snow come then, will you?


Until tomorrow, cheers. 

11.9.11

Today was one of those crazy full-moon days that exists in schools, police stations, hospital ER departments and maternity wards.


I am grateful, then, for ending it with a packed room full of yogis who shared their good energy. There are classes when I feel I take more from them than I have given. Tonight is one of those nights. 


I l-o-v-e sharing yoga.

11.8.11

I went to spinning tonight, as Greg and I do every Tuesday, and tonight, I cried through the middle fifteen minutes of class.


Sometimes I feel like Lance Armstrong on my bike. Sometimes in a yoga class, I feel like I'm Yoga Journal model material. 


And then sometimes I just want to hop off my bike, or roll up my mat, and freaking forget it.


That's when I need to stay the most.


"Tap it up a notch," Vicki encouraged us.


Not a chance.


"You're making those legs work tonight!" she cheered us on.


I don't wanna.


"Grab a drink. Take a deep breath. Relax," she said.


Instead, I cried. 


Whatever I was holding on to released its stupid grip, and although it was hard to breathe, in the dark room, to the sound of techno music, I released it.


"It's just you on a bike. Nothing else matters," Vicki said.


I found my breath, and I continued on.


At the end of class, I hugged Vicki, with more love then she probably knows.

11.7.11

Back in March, I blogged about what teaching means to me.


I was angry in March. My blog was in response to the legislation being passed in Wisconsin that seemed to insult teachers and other public workers, and it appeared Ohio was getting ready to follow suit.


Well Ohio did, and tomorrow, the voters of this midwest state will determine whether or not Senate Bill 5 should be repealed. 


I will vote "No" tomorrow on Issue 2, and a "No" vote would repeal SB5. But I'm not voting for the same reasons the commercials are trying to convince people.

There is good in SB5. I said it. I believe it. I am a public employee, and I admit to seeing a bit of light to what most "No" voters are declaring as Ohio's biggest disgrace. 

It was pushed through as legislation in a dirty, no good way. The people that make these decisions in Columbus are, well, crooked. I take issue with that.

I also take issue with the fact that private sector employees think my job is cushy and this bill should be passed to punish me.

I make crap money, work my tailfeather off, and heck yes I like my benefits! 

But I also LOVE. MY. JOB. When I say, "I'm here for the kids," it's not the BS that many people think it is. Because I am. And what's in it for me? I get to be creative in a new way on a daily basis, all to their benefit.

That, my friends, is my definition of job satisfaction. 

Now, where I see beauty in SB5 (because, well, most of it is ugly) is where the bill holds me accountable for my job. I get a raise if I do a good job, not because my salary schedule says that I'm due for one (and since I stayed at work until 4:00 grading tests after implementing an intervention plan in one class, I have the proof that you can hold me accountable all you want).

I agree with that. If you are reading this, and you are a teacher, you shouldn't be worried about it either. 

This part of SB5 doesn't scare me one bit. The only thing constant in any profession is change. I'm open to it, and I accept that it's coming my way eventually.

What does scare me is that SB5 could pass as is, which takes away a serious bonus of teaching--and firefighting, and police work, etc.--great benefits, and our ability to negotiate for them. 


I am held accountable to you, the taxpayer. Now you get to decide what happens to my financial future tomorrow. I took a pay freeze for three years--no raises of any kind, whatsoever until 2014 at the earliest. If tomorrow, I were going to go and vote on an increase in your health insurance and a decrease in your retirement contribution, what would you be telling me to do? 


I love your kids. Whatever you decide will not affect that fact.

I will be voting "No" on SB5, not in rejection of the whole bill, but in hopes that the powers that be can draft something that is a bit more fair--I'm looking for give and take--I'll bend this way if you bend that way. 

Enough of that.


And if you vote "Yes," I will still love you.

11.6.11

I love when my mom comes to visit.


I hate when she leaves. 


So as I was wallowing in my post-mom visit sadness, I sat on the family room floor in front of a fire, watching the Bengals game with Greg and Will. 


Now, we don't know what the little one in my belly is (one more week!), but if the cantaloupe-sized person should be a boy, we are somewhat settled on a name.


We haven't shared our name with anyone, and really, we only talk about it via text, or late at night.


So I'm sitting on the floor between my boys, when Will lifts up my shirt, presses his face to my belly, and says, "Hi ______!" And yes, insert the boy's name that Greg and I have discussed solely between the two of us.


Will's going to be pretty sad if it's a girl.

11.5.11

I am incredibly grateful to be pregnant--for a second time--with my college roommate, Julia.

Greg suggested we tell the world about our pregnancies via a photo in Vegas at a craps table with the caption "What are the odds?" 

This was the best we could do, in the lobby of the Bellagio.

Honestly, not only am I grateful to share the ups and downs and aches and pains and highs and lows of pregnancy with her, but I am grateful to share with her the entire adventure that is motherhood.

Our texts to each other--on a pretty much daily basis--are consistently on the same three topics: terrible toddlers, pregnancy miseries, and realistic advice. 

Julia: Two-year old for sale. Cheap today.

Me: Let's do a two-for-one special! 

Me: I cried for awhile today because I think I'm raising a terror. 

Julia: Me too.

Me: I can only fathom eating french fries and coke. So that's what I just went and ate.

Julia: I'm so going to get that on my lunch break.

Julia: Luke found the vegetables I tried to hide in the mac n cheese. 

Me: I've got a great recipe. Emailing you now.

Me: Will's fever won't break. What do I do?

Julia: Alternate Tylenol and ibuprofen every four hours.

I love my dear friend. I love experiencing all of this with her, and I don't know that I would be as sane as I am without her. I am most certainly a better mother--if not for the advice, for the ability to share and vent and not be judged. Wouldn't want it any other way.

11.4.11

My mom and stepdad came for a long overdue visit this weekend.


Right now I'm sitting on my bed, listening on the monitor as my mom reads Will "The Grandma Book." 


The melt my heart line?


Will just said, "I yuv you grandma." 


Indeed.

11.3.11

I was going to love nothing more tonight that curling up with a hot cup of tea, staring at three baskets of laundry and willing them to be folded, and then taking some Tylenol PM and heading to bed.


So I made that hot cup of tea, and I sat in the playroom, wishing with all my might that those baskets would fold themselves. 


And then this happened.

And I loved nothing more.