Mr. Mile

So part of my duties as a middle school science teacher is to teach "Family Life" (sex ed) to 7th graders. It's the most wonderful time of the year (Ooh, I'll write words to a song for that!). Truly. I love it. The kids are horrified by half of what they learn and I really believe it helps them decide they are not ready for sexual activity. And I believe it really is important. Most of these kids really don't have much accurate information about their bodies or about consequences of what they decide to do with their bodies. With the internet, kids have access to way too much adult content way too soon in life. Even if they aren't looking at it themselves, their friends and classmates are and they're all talking about it. You can't keep them away from it completely. So I hope it's clear, that even though I may joke about the funny things that happen during family life, I truly take it seriously and believe that what they are learning is vital.

SO, here's my best story so far this time through it. Some of the kids are terrified and embarrassed and won't ask a single question. But some are really brave and daring in their questions. Makes you wonder if they are just trying to get attention or if they're really as knowledgable as they sound. So one girl raises her hand and says, "Does the penis grow for a males' entire life?" Now I can't respond with all of the things that pop into my head. I have to say, "No. About the time a male is done growing as tall as he will, all growth stops, including the penis." She says, "But it grows during an erection." And I say, "Yes, but even that is not true for all males." What I don't say is "You're either a shower or a grower." I do say, "An erection can change the size of the penis a lot or a little. Everyone's different." So she looks a little surprised and says with a bit of astonishment, "How much does it grow with an erection?" And before I can say anything, the boy in the front row right in front of me bursts out with, "BY A MILE!", with his hands thrown out to the side as far as he can reach as if he's telling you about the biggest fish anyone's ever caught! Everyone instantly bursts out laughing, me included. This is why I love teaching Family Life.

To Brew or Not To Brew?

So I'm a middle school science teacher and am in my 11th year of teaching. I know I don't want to teach forever and will definitely need another career one day, but have never been able to figure out with certainty what that next career will be. Nothing calls to me with absolute passion. Three years ago in the middle of another layoff season, I looked into a nearby brewing program. I didn't apply, but should have because I did apply the next year and found out there was a two year waiting list (if that makes sense). So about ten days ago I received a letter saying I've been accepted into the program and had two weeks to decide if I will attend and give a $1000 nonrefundable deposit to hold my spot. Decision time.

The program costs $15,000 and will go from late January to mid-June. I would have to take a leave of absence from work and miss 4 months (basically half the school year). And then there is a three day test given once a year. It's 3 hours, 6 questions each day, all essay. The pass rate is not super high, but it is for people who go through this program. At the end, if I pass, I would still need to go back to work as a teacher for a couple years while I figure out how to affordably transfer into the brewing industry.

I know it sounds like a lot of expensive and loss in income, but there's a reason it's not quite that much really. My husband is wanting to switch into the food industry somehow and was going to have to quit his job and go to a culinary or wine or beer school eventually. It would cost as much if not more than this program and he wouldn't have a job to go back to as I would. Me going to this school would make it so that he didn't have to because the goal would be for me to teach him everything I learned and then have him take the test the next year. Then we'd both be certified brewers. He could move into brewing and eventually the goal would be to open our own brewery and he'd be able to do the food. When I lay it all out like that it actually sounds less scary. Writing this may be helping me make this decision.

So, to brew or not to brew? It's a risk. But we only get one shot at this, right? Ideally, it would have happened in four more years as both my kids would be finishing middle school (at my school) and moving on to high school where I envision they'll need a little less of me. But it's here now, and the guy that wrote and runs the program and wrote the books the program and test are based on is like a million years old and this chance won't be around forever. So, I decided to write this to get a little feedback to help me make the decision, but I think I made if for myself! I'm definitely doing it! Well, probably, you know, unless I don't. :)

Definition of Persistence

So we went camping a couple weeks ago. It was the first time our family of four has been camping in a long time. Like since before our separation. It was good. We just went somewhere nearby to test it out. You know: do we still know how to assemble our tent, can I still handle sleeping on the ground, will I be too cold, blah, blah, blah. We got a beautiful spot on the East side of Folsom lake with hardly anyone in the campground. So, good. Set up camp, had smores, went to bed late, slept under the stars... all good.

So in the middle of the night, through a sleepy fog, I hear my husband talking to someone. Now, if I haven't accurately portrayed him before, he's generally not the most relaxed and friendly guy. I mean, he can be, and when he is, he really is, but I think he would generally be described as a moody grump. But, I here him and he sounds like he's on an episode of Sesame Street or stoned. Neither of which were true. He's saying, "Oh stop it, no don't do that, you silly thing... Are we going to have to do this all night? Really? No, not that! Ok, seriously [then laughter]." I'm thinking: who's he talking to, wait, what do I care, he's happy! So then he stumbles back into the tent, in only his underwear mind you, sees that I'm awake, and says, "Raccoons". Ok. Cool. Raccoons in the campground. He says they were trying to get into the bear box (yes, we locked up all our food), but they couldn't and he's scared them away.

So, not two minutes later, we hear the unmistakable sound of a wooden cabinet door being jostled back and forth. Guess the raccoons haven't given up. At this point, our daughter awakes, so we both say, "Come on, want to see raccoons?" So the three of us get up and go check it out. Sure enough, two raccoons: one in the bushes and one on the cabinet. As we come out, they scamper away and we take the opportunity for a bathroom break after admiring how adorable they are. Back to the tent.

Quiet for two more minutes, then this time, the rattle, rattle, rattle of a wooden cabinet door, followed by the crinkle, crinkle, crinkle of a bag of food being ferociously grabbed. Seriously! Ok, so this time the three of us go out and now there is a raccoon literally wrapped around the corner of the cabinet like a starfish on a juicy clam. He was actually a rectangular shape. His arm was wedged deep down into the cabinet through a crack in the door and he was goin' for those what turned out to be graham crackers like it was the depression. Even after being poked (gently prodded) with a marshmallow stick over and over again, he wouldn't move. Ever see Aliens? It was like those face sucking egg laying aliens. That thing was not coming off. We used this opportunity to tell our daughter that THAT is what persistence is.

So anyway, we cut the ziptie on the cabinet, drag the food into the tent, (I know, bears, but there weren't suppose to be any and my husband was determined raccoons wouldn't tear through the tent), and try to go back to sleep. After hearing the raccoons stalk us for about ten minutes and having to drag my comatose son's legs up onto the cot to get them away from the edge of the tent and the ravenous and quite definitively persistent raccoons, we sleep.

And in the morning, what I took away from the whole thing was: my daughter got to see cool wildlife and my husband was able to remain cheery through what could have been deemed an annoying situation. It was a good night.

Checking In

So it's been a really long time since I blogged. So I thought I better check in. Life is ok. If I haven't already said it, my husband moved back in in October, but I thought it might be very temporary. Recently, I've started to feel that it might be long term. I don't know if I'll ever believe that it's forever, but it does feel like his moving out isn't imminent. He seems to be happier and lighter and friendlier and it's really nice. He's super busy trying to do 8 million projects at the same time and I just want to help him out to support him. This weekend he's doing a pig roast for the first time and right now we have 49 people signed up to come and not everyone has RSVP'd yet. He's so into this. He is making all the food and won't let anyone bring anything. He's got like... well, here's the menu:

MENU:

Snack Bar -

Popcorn, chips, pretzels and other salty snacks

Pre-Dinner Options (Noon to 4ish)

Hot Dogs to order

Sides:

Potato salad

Mac and cheese 

Macaroni salad

Cole slaw

Fruit salad 

Baked beans 

Corn bread 

White rice

Main Dish:

Roasted Pork 

BBQ sauce

How to eat it:

Southern style: pile of pork on top of a slice of white bread slathered with BBQ sauce and a side of beans & slaw

Hawaiian style:  2 scoops rice, 1 scoop macaroni salad, 1 pile pork

Picnic style: Anything you want, anyway you like it!

Dessert:

Bring your own dessert (or eat a second helping instead)

Drinks:

Sangria

Coors Light

Water

Soda

 

Again, he's doing it all. And not only is there the food. We poured two cement pillars in the backyard yesterday to hang lights across the yard. He built a new picnic table and we're still staining it. We have a second table started under construction in the garage right now that will have to be finished and stained. He built a fire-pit in the yard last weekend. Let's see, what else? OH, the morning of the pig roast is the annual garage sale so our garage is filled with things we're suppose to sell that day. Oh yeah, and we both work full time and he commutes 2 hours a day (round trip) to his job. Our kids are also on a swim team and have daily practice for 90 minutes (combined). I told him he has the project list of a retired person, not a person working full time. But, I'm just going along with it because he seems to be happy and the 4 of us are together and that's what I want.

Quotable

I want to be someone that other people quote. Right now I'm not even someone that other people "like". Seriously. What's a girl got to do to get someone on Facebook to "like" me? That's why facebook is bad. You hate it and it's annoying that people post their bowel movements and smoke breaks and what they're looking at out the window. But somehow, when those same people don't "like" anything you do, you get kind of hurt. How can I get mad at something that is so stupid? Maybe I just think it's stupid because it doesn't work for me the way it seems to work for everyone else. I really do have good thoughts that other people could use to get through their day. I just need a marketing expert.

When You Die A Little

Something happens when you die a little.

So it's been more than a year since my husband laid down on our pillows and said, "I'm having an affair." So I should be good. But you die a little. And maybe this is something I haven't talked about yet. He lays down. He says that. And that day, you mostly die. If you didn't have kids, you might die all the way. But you have kids. So you live.

There's a lot to say in between then and now (one year later). But the truth is... I live. Dying a little might be good for all of us. I think I am more alive now than I've ever been. I am alive. We live for the kids, because we have to. But what we find is that living for the kids is really about living for us. I'm alive. And it's not for them. It's for me. I have a lot left to tell. There's a story there. If you know me, you know there's a story. So when you die a little, you wake up the part of you that was sleeping. That part of me is awake now. Something happens when you die a little.

Back to Reality

It's so hard to come back from vacation. We just got back from a week in Mexico in a little village about an hour north of Puerto Vallarta called Rincon de Guayabitos. The water was warm, but not hot. The air was warm but not hot or humid. The sand was soft. The beer was cold. The limes were tangy. The tequilla was smooth. The music was festive and loud and happy. The food was flavorful and spicy. The market was colorful and bustling. Whales swam at the mouth of the bay while we stood on the beach and watched them slap their tails on the water and breach while hunting for fish (I think). And not once did I get homesick. In fact, my daughter cried on the plane home because she wanted to stay. When we got home, I'll admit that my own bed was more comfortable, but other than that, there was no great emotional connection. I realized that our house is just walls and things. In a sense, that's a good thing because now I know that no matter what life brings, I don't have to be in this house or this town. I can go where life takes us when it takes us there. I also now think our family has the taste for travel and I hope we keep it and travel as much of the world as often as we can afford while the 4 of us are still together as a family and our kids are young. Coming back to the real world is painful (especially when it's so unseasonably cold!), but I know now that we will have more stamps in our passports as soon as possible.