Category Archives: Uncategorized

Three times this weekend (and I use the term weekend loosely) I’ve opened my blog to write something, but that something never showed up.  I tried to come up with a story or an incident or even an anecdote to share with you, but I got nothing.  Nope not a thing.  Of course my brain is tired from weekend conferences on gifted and talented students.  The conferences have been very interesting and enlightening; however, conferences three Saturdays in a row makes for extra long work weeks and an extra exhausted Natalie.  Today I slept later than normal, but not late.  I sat around some but not nearly enough.  I repotted a plant, did some laundry, did some cooking, did some shopping, and watched some TV.  I napped for minutes, but felt like I could have slept for days.  It’s 10pm, and I have exactly 7 hours until I have to be up and start another 6 day work week.  Night.

Recently I’ve contemplated writing a book.  I’m not sure how good I would be at it or if I even have a story that people would want to read.  I just know that I have a story to tell.  So I contemplate.  How do I tell my story and where is the beginning exactly?  Have you ever wondered that?  Where the beginning is?  How far back do I go to look for the beginning?   I don’t want my story to be a long, drawn out account of every event in my life.  I don’t want to bore others with a trip down my memory lane.  Nobody cares about how I got in trouble once in kindergarten and had to sit behind the piano.  It was a huge deal for me at the time, but over the years I’ve forgotten what I did to deserve that punishment.  I also swam in a relay race once and was the anchor leg for our team.  By the time it was my turn to swim the other teams had all finished the race so I was alone in the pool as I swam my laps.  Those events were significant in my young life, but I don’t wonder about them.  They are just memories.  But there are other things.  Things that happened that have always made me wonder.  Things that I need to write down.  The earliest of these events was just a simple conversation.  It took place over 30 years ago when I was a child and I’ve never forgotten it.

My family took an extended vacation up the eastern seaboard one summer.  My dad had work, a cousin got married, and we did the whole tourist thing.  We arrived back at home just in time for school to start.  I remember talking to my best friend about some of the summer activities I missed out on.  At one point she made an offhanded comment about playing a game called Topsy Turvy with a neighbor girl who was a year younger than us.  I had never heard of this game and asked how to play.  She said it was no big deal.  They just took off all their clothes and rolled around on top of each other in the bed.  I remember her nonchalant attitude as she said it.  I remember her obvious boredom with the simplicity of the game.  And I remember feeling cheated.  Like I had missed out on something important.  I had never had any thoughts about my friend, and I certainly had never felt any kind of sexual tension in my young life.  It wasn’t about that.  It was just a nudge, a tug, a something, and I wanted to know what that something was.

Sometime later during a moment of boredom I mentioned the idea of playing Topsy Turvy.  My friend wasn’t interested, and we moved on to something else.  I never asked to play it again.  The neighbor girl and I spent quite a bit of time together as well.  We even had sleepovers.  I never told her that I knew about Topsy Turvy, and she never asked me to play.  She moved out of state later that year,

Looking back now I wonder lots of things about that game.  I wonder why a young girl would have a name for a game consisting of rolling around in bed naked.  I wonder if there was some sort of abuse somewhere.  I also wonder if she, like me, was aware that something was different about her.  I don’t know.  I’ll never know.  The only thing I do know is that Topsy Turvy was the beginning.

I don’t know if will ever write that book.  I don’t know if I even need to.  I feel the need to write down my story so I come here and write.  The beginning and middle parts all mixed together.  Even so my story is being told.  Maybe one day I’ll sort it all out and give it purpose.

I have BlogHer 11 tickets.  I don’t have an airline reservation, hotel reservations, hotel roommates, or anything else that should come with a trip to San Diego, but I do have BlogHer tickets.  Now what do I do?

I was reading Chookooloonks blog the other day and she mentioned that every year she chooses a word to help motivate, guide, and hopefully define the year to come.  I’ve been thinking about that some.  I didn’t make any New Year’s resolutions this year.  I’m not a huge fan of them.  If I feel the need to change anything or reinvent any part of myself I just do it.  But choosing a word for the year…that’s an idea I can get behind.  So I’ve been doing some thinking.  Where do I want to be at the end of the year and what word best describes the process of getting there?  I decided that in order to be able to choose a proper word for this year I needed to look back at the last few years and assign words to them as well.

2007 – I hadn’t planned to go this far back, but I think it was the beginning for me.  In January of this year I went back to Turkey after a 7 month stay in the states.  I fully expected to have some culture shock because I had been told by the experts that a second term overseas was usually the hardest.  The experts weren’t kidding.  I believe it was this culture shock that popped the bubble I had been living in.  I found myself questioning everything I had ever been taught and discovering things about myself that I had only suspected.  As a way to deal with it all I blogged.  293 times.  My 2007 word – controversy.

2008 – A year I’ll never forget.  The highest of highs and the lowest of lows.  For the first time ever I wasn’t content with where my life was.  I knew I had to leave the country and job I loved.  I knew that despite my love for it I couldn’t continue to do the job with the company I was with.  I spent the better part of the year waiting to move on.  During this waiting period I dealt with feelings I had never had before.  I know feelings can’t necessarily be trusted and that the heart is a fickle creature so believe me I was extremely wary of what I felt.  The biggest thing for me was that I couldn’t deny what I was experiencing.  It felt wrong to feel so right.  I had to leave to deal with the reality of it.  I wasn’t 100% sure where I was going other than back to the states.  And to deal with the waiting and the feelings I blogged.  423 times.  My 2008 word – anticipate.

2009 – I had only been back in the states for a little over a month when we rang in 2009.  I was dealing with reverse culture shock in myself and in my kids.  As we began to settle I found an accidental job and loved it.  I made the hardest decision I have ever had to make, and I moved out of my house and into a 2 bedroom apartment.  I lost friends, family, and security.  I gained freedom to explore, strength to move on, and a few friends along the way.  My blogging slacked off quite a bit due to the job and the fact that I didn’t know what else to say.  Only 203 posts.  My 2009 word – interlude.

2010 – I went from one accidental job to another and had the undying support of someone special.  With her support I began standing on my own two feet, but still felt overwhelming fear that I might fail.  I tiptoed around and hoped and prayed that everything and everyone would be ok.  I spent many days exhausted from the pressures of it all.  Due to that my blogging suffered greatly.  Only 95 posts.  My 2010 word – consumed.

Controversy because I was arguing with myself.  I fought what I was learning and discovering because I was uncomfortable with it.

Anticipate because I didn’t know what the future held.  Sometimes it seemed amazingly bright and other times I could only see darkness.

Interlude because I was between things.  Decisions were being made that would move me from who I had been to who I would be.

Consumed because I felt completely used up.  I had done everything I mentally could and now I could only watch and see what others would do.

And now I sit and think about what my word for 2011 should be.  I’m not sure yet.  I’ll get back to you in a few days with my decision.

I am a teacher.  That’s the profession I chose to pursue in college.  I took a 15 year break between my first teaching career and my second.  Lots changed in 15 years.  These days kids show up to their first day of kindergarten knowing less, and the teachers are expected to teach them more.  I have no idea how to do that most days.  I’ve spent a full semester trying to get 17 kids to master the art of number recognition 0-20.  Despite teaching the material every way possible only 5 can do it successfully.  I did large group, peer groups, small groups, games, worksheets, manipulatives, and good ol’ memorization.  Most of the kids just don’t seem to care if they get it.  And now we’ve started adding.  Quite a few of my students can figure out that if Amy gave Fernando 5 pieces of candy and Billy gave Fernando 7 pieces of candy he would have 12 pieces of candy all together, but they have no clue how to write a 12.

I also never encountered as many behavior issues 15 years ago as I do now.  I feel like I spend the entire day disciplining kids.  I’m sure much of that is my fault though.  If I were more strict and structured the kids would probably respond better.  I am the type of teacher that loves to go with the flow.  The other day a dairy farmer brought a cow to our school.  I heard it was happening a couple of days before the event, but since our lesson plans have to be done a week in advance there was nothing in my lesson about cows.  Even so we all went out and listened to him talk about his cow.  When we got back in the classroom I decided to veer from the regularly scheduled activity and talk about cows.  We sat on the carpet and made a list of facts and opinions about cows.  Afterwards they colored a picture of a cow similar to the one we had seen.  On paper it sounds great.  In real life it was like pulling teeth.  I think only two kids actually gave me a fact about cows.  Most of them didn’t seem to care that we had just heard that cows have 4 stomachs and that cows pee about 20 times a day.  Both facts that 5 year olds should find fascinating!  Instead I heard things like, “he’s touching my foot, she wrote on the carpet, I need a tissue, can I put my coat in the closet, when is lunch, I heard the principal walk by, can I go to the bathroom, he’s bothering me, etc., etc., etc.  I also had the entire back row decide to lie down instead of sitting up paying attention.  The kids just didn’t care.  And they are that way with just about everything. Unbelievable to me.

Somedays I think about careers I might like to have other than teaching, because honestly, I can’t imagine doing this for the rest of my life.  I don’t think I am very good at it.  I come home worn out every day.  My voice is taking a hit day after day and by Friday it is beyond strained.  But more than that I come home every day feeling like I didn’t accomplish much of anything.  I think I could handle being tired if I came home feeling fulfilled.  Feeling like I was actually making a difference.  And sure, somedays I know the kids learn new things.  I can see that they are progressing, but I feel like I am killing myself in the process.  That can’t be good.

But changing careers scares me.  I need an income.  I feel as though I need health care coverage.  I know people get along without it, but I’ve always had it and not having it seems crazy.  I need to have some sort of retirement plan since I am hoping to not have to work until I die.  All of these things come naturally with a teaching job.  And I automatically get holidays and summers off.  Seems like teaching would be the perfect job if it wasn’t for the kids.

So anyone out there have any good career ideas for me?  Seriously.

Two and a half years ago, I wrote a post on my private blog detailing an experience I wished I’d had.  I thought about that post today and decided I needed to republish it.

Let’s talk about cars, shall we?  Twenty years ago, I was faced with a choice.  I could drive the old standby car…a Ford.  It was reliable.  I knew what to expect from it.  As long as I kept it serviced and made sure there was fuel, I could drive all across the country.  I couldn’t go wrong with a Ford.  My other choice was somewhat exotic.  You’d heard of these cars, but unless you were in California or New York, you never really saw them.  And when you did, you just stopped and stared.  That car was a DeLorean.  Now at the time, I didn’t know what to think of the DeLorean.  Would it be reliable?  Could I count on it to get me where I needed to go?  Would it last?  And what would everyone say?  That was the most important question.  How could I choose the DeLorean when I knew everyone would stop and stare?  I would be talked about.  I couldn’t handle being the center of attention.  Good or bad.  And believe me when I say driving a DeLorean would be getting me all kinds of bad attention.  So I chose the Ford.  The good ol’ reliable Ford.  It still works today.  Like a charm.  But when I see that DeLorean I always wish I had at least taken it for a test drive before I made my decision.

Not long after I wrote that post I finally gave in and took that DeLorean for a spin.  Oh my.  After the thrilling initial test drive, I tried to go back to my safe, comfortable Ford, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the DeLorean.  I knew that no matter how much I wanted to, I would never again be satisfied with the Ford.  The DeLorean was the car for me.  It doesn’t always run smoothly, and there’s a lot to learn to make it work right.  I’ve heard from people who have been driving DeLoreans for years, and the stories they’ve shared about the good trips and the times they were left stranded by the roadside have both thrilled and frightened me.  But no matter what I hear or experience, I know that this is the car for me.  I can’t give up on it just because I don’t know everything there is to know about my DeLorean.  I can’t give up on it just because people might stop and stare when they see me driving it.  I can’t give up because the way I feel nestled behind the wheel tells me that I’m right where I belong.

I was reminded of something today.  Several years ago I read the book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.  It was an experience for me like I’m sure it was for so many others.  I didn’t love the whole story.  Parts of it were somewhat slow for the reader, but I’m sure for Liz it was necessary to include in the written account of the lessons she learned.  Today I came across this quote from the book on a blog written by someone who I connected with because of that book.  We don’t talk or email anymore, but I still make time to read her blog.  Thanks for the reminder of where I’ve been and where I’m going.

“I’ve come to believe in something I call the physics of the quest. The rule of quest physics goes something like this: if you’re brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting, which can be anything- from your house to bitter old resentments, and set out on a truth seeking journey- either externally or internally… and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue… and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher… and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you.” -Liz Gilbert

Blogging.  That’s a source of ambivalence around my house.  I love it.  I read blogs by so many talented writers, and I want to write, too.  I sneak peaks at the dashboard of my blog and spend a few moments thinking about writing fabulous blog posts.  Then I close my computer and resume my normally hectic life.  I dream about vacations and summers and free time.  Time that can be spent writing.

Unfortunately there are lots of things that need catching up on during my free time.  I spend the first bit of any free time sleeping.  I can’t help it.  I open my computer, and I close my eyes.  During this Christmas break I needed to sleep, clean, plan for school stuff, and start and finish my Christmas shopping.  I figured I would write when that was all done.  Today is Christmas Day, and I am not quite finished shopping.  Considering my family celebration isn’t happening until New Year’s Day I still have time.  I think I’m caught up on sleep, cleaning is over-rated, and the school stuff is done.  I’ve been saying I would sit down and write a post all week.  I just never did.  For some reason I have been lazy.  I want to write, but I also want to lie around.  I want to put words here, but there are CSI episodes to catch up on, and gingerbread cookies to eat.

Enter Fleur de lis.  Today she felt the urge to express herself.  She asked if she could write a guest post on my blog.  Um…yes!  Of course.  But not because I’m lazy and in the middle of an E True Hollywood Marathon on the DVR, but because I’m a giver.  My blog and I…we are here for you!

Oh and um…honey…before you sit down can you get me a Diet Coke?  I don’t want to miss this part!  This Queen Latifah bio is fascinating!

And here is what my Fleur de lis has to say…

The Aubergine Pot

In recent decades, Christmas had become just another vacation day away from work.  It really is a children’s celebration, as far as I am concerned.

Nat and I made an agreement that we would not exchange gifts this Christmas.  We would focus on family, in particular the kids.  Good. Done.

This morning as we awoke to a very chilly morning, I scampered to the thermostat to summon some warmth and then to plug in the tree lights.  That’s when I saw it.

Missy had bargained with Papa Noel on the sly and he’d left me a gift beneath the tree. What a cheater.

But not wanting to hurt her feelings, I quickly scooped up (more like “lugged” as the package weighed a ton!) the prize and ran to the bedroom to reveal it in front of the Giver and to get my cold tootsies back under the covers.

Now, don’t get your hopes up that I’m going to relate how my Love gave me a new Piaget or a David Yurman.  It wasn’t any of my favorite colognes nor a renewal to my Car and Driver subscription.  It wasn’t tickets to Paris or even a gift card to McDonald’s.

Nope.  This was one that I absolutely could not guess.  But, I must tell you, Miss Nat did good.

I ripped until the gift was revealed. It was an iron enamel-clad dutch oven. I’ve always wanted one of those but I am too cheap to purchase such for myself. Needless to say, I was quite pleasantly surprised.  But the best part of all is that this magnificent culinary vessel was the perfect color, too. Purple!

I thanked my Girl and immediately tried to decide what the inaugural dish would be. It didn’t take long to come to.

For those of you who followed my blog,  you will already know about my lifelong friend, Jeanie.  We are from New Orleans and she still lives in that beautiful City.  Well, Jeanie’s mom was a character that I will always love and remember.  Her name was Colletta and she was a marvelous cook and singer.  Years ago, I had asked Colletta for a contribution to my keepsake recipes.  I had a collection of standards and specialties from people I knew and loved. I had each write their recipe in their own hand to make the memory even more special.  Colletta gave me her best and you can still find it in my box under “Colletta’s File Gumbo!”

Colletta passed away less than two years ago. It seems only fitting that my first dish in my new (Mardi Gras) aubergine pot will be Colletta’s gumbo.

I shared this decision with Natalie and we agreed that from here on we shall call this gift the Aubergine Gumbo Pot.

Hey, it works for me.

I suspect that we will have an additional course at our future Christmas dinners as well as a reminder of family no longer with us.  Yeah, that pot is gonna have some stories to tell someday.

Uh, Honey, let me know if you’re “not” giving me anything for my birthday next month. 😉

Yesterday I bought a bunch of Coke, Dr. Pepper, Diet Coke, and Sprite.  I bought big bags of chips, containers of dip, and packages of cookies.  I got paper plates, napkins, cups, plasticware, and ice.  I ordered 5 large pizzas.  And there was cake and ice cream.  Yes, my son had a birthday party.  He elected to just have a bunch of guys over at the house to hang out.  They played tag in the dark, football in the dark, and video games in the dark.  I think there were only 7 of them, but add my 4 and kids were everywhere.  And it was loud.  And stinky.  I lit vanilla candles, and cinnamon candles, and apple cider candles.  There was a bottle of Stetson cologne on the kitchen counter that may or may not have been sprayed on one or two random kids as they happened by.  And at midnight I took the 3 of mine who weren’t involved in the party and came back to my apartment.  The air was fresh and quiet.  We took deep cleansing breaths as we tiptoed around and got ready for bed.  We whispered our goodnights and fell asleep.  Ahhh…

I added WordPress to my phone. Maybe I’ll attempt to blog more. I don’t know though. This is taking longer than writing on my computer. I have barely been home this past week so there wasn’t any time to actually sit down at my computer. This might be a decent option for weeks like that. I am not sure what all the functions on my phone do though. Maybe this is the time and place to try them out. Like this one…will it be in bold type when it posts on the blog? And now italics? Maybe I’m just typing.

Underlined?

Overlined?

And this??? I think I have a lot to learn.

Edited:  And now I’m home and can see that there was no underlining or overlining.  The part that I thought would be bold wasn’t, but I think I know why.  But by golly I nailed that italics part!  And the end…well I don’t even remember what was happening at the end.  All I know is that it was 9pm on a Friday night and I was falling asleep.  Lame-o-la.