Saying “Yes”

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Several weeks ago I let myself get down about my upcoming summer. I was in the midst of the end of school year crazies and a planned camping trip had to be canceled (along with several other weekends worth of activities) due to the constant rain that drenched Atlanta this past spring. I felt like I had nothing to look forward to this summer and all I could envision was hours spent working in front of the computer (which was pretty much how I spent last summer while finishing the book!). I allowed myself to be grouchy about the whole situation and found myself grumbling about the adventures that others had planned. Not exactly an attractive mood nor one that is likely to improve my outlook.

All I can say is that it is amazing what a different a few weeks and some awesome people can make. Well, that and some actual sunshine!

It started with my mom coming to my rescue after my whiny post. I had already booked a trip to San Antonio to see her in June but she knew that I needed more of a “vacation” feel than just visiting my hometown. She and our close family friend, Kay, worked to book a trip to the gulf coast while I’m in Texas. Not only is this precious beach time (Atlanta is pretty landlocked!) but it’s also a rare opportunity for the three of us to be together. For most of my latter childhood, it was just my mom and I. Well, two people, especially when one is a hormonal teenager, alone can get to be a bit much. Kay was frequently added to our family. She is like a sister to my mom and a cool aunt to me. She brought in needed energy and helped to mediate between my mom and me when it was needed. The last time we were together was two years ago when I last visited Texas. We went on a tour of various Hill Country Wineries. We sampled jalapeno wine, nicknamed a miniature donkey outside a wine tasting room a “burrito” and laughed more than is socially acceptable. All I can say is that Texas better watch out for this go round:)

Sardinian Miniature Donkey, Kew Gardens.
Sardinian Miniature Donkey, Kew Gardens. (Photo credit: Jim Linwood)

Just having that coast trip on the horizon to look forward to was enough to break my funk. Sometimes it’s amazing how much of an impact a small adjustment can make. Just knowing how three days of my summer were to be spent made me see the entire expanse in a different light.  I hope I can remember that lesson next time.

In the span of a few weeks, this has gone from a summer that I dreaded would be monotonous to one that is full of reconnection with my past and new adventures. And all I’ve had to do is say, “yes” to the opportunities that resented themselves. I’m reconnecting with old friends and teammates in Atlanta as we take advantage of the opportunity to leisurely lunch without cafeterias full of kids. I’m meeting up with my old boss and friend in San Antonio whose family adopted me for many holidays and birthday celebrations (he and his wife are two of my love mentors).  I’m going to see Austin and Lake Travis (where I spent some time in college) from a new angle as I zipline over the lake (thanks to Kay!). And Brock and I will be returning to St. Marys (where we first talked marriage last summer:) ) to stay with our friends (and other love mentors) there.

Yippee!!!

On a more emotional front, I’m going to visit the youngest dog from my former life, who was adopted by a friend’s parents and now lives on a farm in Alabama. I’m excited about this, but also nervous, as I have not seen her (or any of the dogs, for that matter) since that life ended four years ago. I think tears will be guaranteed.

Glottis
Glottis

On the new front, I spent yesterday tubing with a new group of friends. I will be going skydiving for the first time with another group of friends once I return from Texas (assuming I live through the ziplining!). I have my first girl’s weekend of my life in Tybee Island at the end of the month with an impressive group of women, only one of whom I really know.

I’ve gone from feeling grumpy to feeling grateful (and delightfully nervous about the sky high adventures!). I feel so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such amazing people.

I feel like I’ve reversed my 20s and 30s in many ways. While touring a new friend’s college campus yesterday, it really struck me how I never did my 20s. I went to school, yet only lived the campus life for one year and even then, I was the one who would make all of the 8:00 am classes on time and would get annoyed when spontaneous parties broke out in the house. The rest of my college experience was spent working and going to school, often commuting quite a ways to reach the campus. Through all of that, I was with my ex. I never dated in my 20s. We bought a fixer-upper house at 22 and I was more concerned with the best toilet gasket to buy than finding the best blues and brews bar in town. I had friends but work and/or school was always my bigger priority. I stayed busy with occasional binges of fun, usually while on vacation.

Now, solidly in my 30s, my life has shifted. I now put more effort into finding, creating and maintaining relationships. I’ve learned that there is value in relationships and that time spent cultivating them is time well invested. I make sure fun is on the to-do list (and apparently get grumpy when it is absent!). At a time when many of peers are settling down and leaving the craziness of their 20s behind, I am welcoming some of that craziness into my own life and not just on vacation.

I don’t regret not living the life of the typical twenty something. I was happy with my choices. But there’s no rule that says that life has to take some predetermined path. That the 20s are about finding yourself and fun and the 30s are about settling down and getting serious. Besides, I’ve always found that I enjoy play more after the hard work has been done. I’m just getting better and sprinkling the play into the long sessions of work.

I feel silly now that I let myself get down. That I allowed myself to wallow in self pity. I may not have the finds that my student’s families do that allow elaborate vacations. I may not have the big family that rents a beach house for a month every year. But I have what I need and I have amazing people around me that remind me every day about what is important and make me aware of how rich my life is. My grumpiness has been replaced with gratitude and excitement (and a little healthy fear!).

It’s okay to have fun. It’s okay to set work aside for awhile. It’s okay to create things to look forward to. It’s okay to say “yes.”

And if you hear any screams coming from South Texas this week, don’t worry; It’s only me going down the zipline:)

 

A Wife By Any Other Name

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When I married for the first time, I changed my name without thought. I was happy to replace the name that I associated with childhood with one that I related to becoming an adult.

I was young – 22 – and I had not yet accomplished much with my given name. Shedding it caused me no harm, only the hassle of making the changes to accounts and cards.

I embraced my wedded name, had no regrets. And, yet, in court when the judge was finishing the last of the paperwork, I was struck dumb when she said, “And I assume you want to keep your last name of B—-.”

After the mute shock wore off, it took everything in my power not to scream,  “$#!@ no!” I wanted away from that name as much as I wanted away from that artificial life. Besides, since he committed bigamy, there was already another Mrs. B—. That’s too many in my book.

My given name was legally restored that day yet I continued to use the other professionally for the remainder of the school year. It was strange time, bridging two worlds and using two names.  I worked under one name yet was applying for new jobs using another. I had accounts and cards in both names. I started my first real Facebook account using my maiden name and it suggested that I friend myself that had the married name (I had an unused account that I opened out of curiosity). For a year, I carried my divorce decree in my purse so that I could prove that I was one and the same, even though I felt worlds apart from my former Mrs. I almost felt like a fraud.

Changing my name was different at that point. I was 32. I had made a name for myself professionally and had hundreds of former students who knew me only as Mrs. B—. I almost lost the opportunity for the job I currently hold. Upon receiving my resume, one of the administrators realized that she was close friends with a former coworker of mine.

The administrator called her friend, “Did you used to work with a Lisa Arends?”

“No,” replied the friend, assuming that I was some charlatan.

She was telling the truth. It was my other self that had worked with her. Luckily, she realized the duality of my identity and called the administrator back to clarify.

That was a wake up call for me.

In a time when women married young and operated primarily in the domestic sphere, a name change was harmless. Now, with women marrying later, working outside the home and facing the realities of potential divorce, a name change can have very tangible consequences. Most discussions that I see on issue address it from a philosophical perspective, eschewing the patriarchal origins or talking about embracing the new family.

That’s romantic and everything, but what about the real world?

When my parents divorced, my mom had no real choice but to keep her married name. She had spent years building up a small business and her name was key to the word of mouth. No name = no way to put food on the table. She has since remarried yet retains her prior married name, at least in the professional realm. Ideal? Perhaps not. But practical.

I am choosing to do much the same. Although I refused to keep my former name out of principle, I now am operating out of practicality. When I wed again this fall, I will keep my given name. I simply have too much to lose if I do not.

On a side note, this reminds me of one the nicest gifts I have ever received. I won Teacher of the Year under my old identity. After the divorce, the plaque, which once occupied a place of honor in my classroom, was relegated to a closet since it was no longer in the right name. For my birthday (the first we were together), Brock snuck the plaque out of the closet and had the nameplate redone to match my new identity. Yes, I cried.

I queried my Facebook followers the other day on this topic. Many of them had also faced setbacks and hassles with multiple name changes and do not intend to change it again, regardless of changes in marital status.

Did you change your name? Would you do it again? How do handle (or intend to handle) the kids’ names (an issue I don’t have to worry about:) )?

It’s always funny when my students comment on my former name. When they see Mrs. B— scrawled across a clipboard or emblazoned on a book, they ask, “Who is she?”

“Oh, just someone I used to work with.”  She feels like a lifetime ago.

Besides, Tiger doesn't care what I'm called, as long as I'm still his momma:)
Besides, Tiger doesn’t care what I’m called, as long as I’m still his momma:)

Work is Like a Gas

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Chemistry 1965

Work is like a gas.

It expands to fill its allotted space.

As a teacher, I have fixed hours: 8:30-4:30 M-F. That time is entirely consumed with meetings, conferences, tutoring and, let’s not forget, instruction. That means that I have to find time outside of that window to prepare lessons, write materials and grade papers.

In my old life, I let that work expand unbounded into all areas of my life. I showed up at work at 7:00 when the custodians were the only other life in the building.  I worked in the evenings, grading papers while watching a movie with my husband. Half of my Saturday would be spent in front of the computer, planning lessons and writing materials. Even vacations weren’t sacred – I would frequently have a bag of work by my feet as we drove off to some destination.

During the divorce, I realized that I needed to set boundaries. I still came into school early, but I refused to take work home. I liked that morning time – it was bound by the bell that started the day. Much to my surprise, I found that I could still get done much of what I needed to. The lessons weren’t as fleshed out, but my years of experience had long since made that unneccessary. The activities weren’t as neat and typo-free, but it turns out that 8th graders don’t really care (or even notice) and a type doesn’t limit learning. Occasionally, I felt rushed or unprepared when something came up unexpectedly at the last moment. But that happened when I worked all of the time, too.

Last year, when I started my 28 day mediation challenge, I pushed my start time back to 7:30 so that I a few precious moments in the morning where I could meditate without having to get up at an even more ridiculous time. It was heaven. I arrived at work rested and calm. The centered mind more than made up for the missing half hour.

This year, I told myself that I would start the year by going in at 7:00 to allow time for the added workload of the beginning of the school year. I promised myself that I would move that back to 7:30 by the end of the 1st quarter.

It’s now the 3rd quarter and I’ve only walked through the doors after 7:00 a handful of times. In fact, it’s been closer to 6:45 on most mornings.

What went wrong? Why am I allowing this time? Do I really need it or am I just afraid that I will fall behind if I do not allow that extra half hour? I’ve been feeling unbalanced with work this year – it’s taking more energy and causing more stress than I would like.

What would happen if I narrow its container? Bound it with walls that restrict its flow? Would that found time restore balance?

I intend to find out.

Beginning today.

Enjoy the Lawn

Posted on by stilllearning2b

enjoy the lawn