TILTing into the new year

This year seemed to fly by and crawl along all at the same time. It's amazing how independent of reality one's perception of time can be. This is the last TILT of 2009, and so it seems fitting that it encompass all of the things I have loved and been loved by in this year of awkward advancement and self discovery.

As usual, I love my kids.
I love that Victor sees the world in his own matter of fact and analytical way. Everything is a puzzle for him to put together, a mystery to be solved, a clue to be read. I love that I can see his wheels spinning when he's picking something apart in his head. He sees things in such a direct and literal way, black and white with very little grey. He asks such great questions and believes there is an answer to every one, it's just a matter of finding it. It is a magical and amazing thing to see. I also love that Victor has discovered knock knock jokes.

I love that Oscar always has a song in his head and a laugh in his belly. He is ever the entertainer and the adventurer. But no matter what he's doing, he's humming a tune, singing a song, and dancing to the rhythm of the music in his head. Where his brother sees lines and grids of black and white, Oscar sees swirls and squiggles of color and texture. I love that he is already unapologetically his own person.

I love Ninja. I've come to realize over the curse of the last year that I take much of what he does for granted without meaning to. He loves me for who and what I am. And even when I try my hardest to push him away, he is steadfast and true, a constant in the chaos. I know for certain that my life would have taken a very different, and not better, path had I not met him when I did. Thank you seems so inadequate, and yet so necessary.

I love my job. I was out of the classroom last year and can honestly say that I have never felt as dissatisfied with my life as I did then. Returning to work confirmed for me that I am in the right place doing the right thing.

I love that I still have a job I love when so many of my friends have lost or will lose theirs. I feel extremely fortunate and so very, very grateful.

I love that I have the honor of doing something that makes a difference. As I was grading finals, I came across a note one of my students wrote me on the back of his test. He has been in my classes for 4 years. When he entered my class for the first time, he had only been in the country for a few days. He had a vocabulary of about ten words in English. He was shy and scared. For 2 years he did very little, and became one of those students you love but want to hurt because they just won't help themselves. He could not read. He would not write. Last year, he was in someone else's class, and he was in constant trouble and pretty rude to his teachers. But this year, things are different. And he wrote me a note telling me so. His note was a thank you note and an apology. He told me that he knew he had been difficult for everyone for the last three years and he was sorry for being rude, but he wanted to explain. He said that he could not read, he could not understand how the letters worked together or what they were supposed to sound like, and he was embarrassed. He said that this year, I taught him how to read and now everything makes sense. He said that for the first time since leaving his village, he feels like he can do something more than work in his uncle's store when he graduates. He said for the first time, he's thinking about graduating instead of dropping out. He said for the first time he actually wants to do his work and reads at home. Because he can. And he said thank you. He's not embarrassed any more.

I love constant and continued friendship.

I love that this year I was able to take my family to some of those constant friends. My worlds collided, and it made things so much more wonderful.

I love that I finally feel like an adult. I'm not a grown up, but I am an adult. I've never felt this confident, self assured, or independant as I have come to feel in this year.

I love that as a result of that confidence, I finally feel as if I deserve this life. I no longer feel as if I have to apologize for being me, for having what I have or doing what I do. I love knowing I'm worth loving.

I love that I have people who love me enough to tell me I'm an asshole when I need to hear it and expect me to do the same for them.

And I love that I have other people who call or text or email to remind me that my life is pretty amazing, and that I deserve for it to be so.

I love that I have found a place to be. Victor set me back on the path to finding a spiritual home, and Sara drew me a map. I love that in finding Beth Shalom, I found a community of people who take me for what I am and like it. The fact that I am ambivalent about the existence of God isn't an issue. I am not a pariah, an infidel, or an outsider. They want nothing from me and are always happy to see me. They are home.

I love Facebook for bringing new and different people into my life, making it all the more rich and varied.

I love the music I've discovered and the emotions it stirs.

I love that this list could go on and on. I am fortunate and grateful. I know how very different things could be.

I hope that this year ends on a high note for all of you. May the new year find you healthy, happy, and hopeful.

Thank you for being a part of my world. Be safe out there tonight so you can continue to be so.

Peace out, homies,

L

The Why Of It All

I found Jillian Michaels on Facebook today. Someone else became a fan and I followed a link. This is what greeted me at the top of her page.

"He who has a Why to live for can bear almost any How"- Nietzsche. So true. Weight loss is hard. So how do you tolerate the "how" of it? The answer, "Why" is weight loss worth it. Example: are skinny jeans worth passing on donuts? Is avoiding heart disease worth 30 min of exercise? With the new year upon us, meditate on your "Why". Then begin educating yourself & acting on the "How".

Nothing could have been more appropriate than that quote on this day. I've been thinking a lot lately about why I do things, and more often than not, I find my motivation is exterior. I have become one of those people that rarely does anything for herself, and suffers for it. My kids, my husband, my friends never go without if I can help it. But I often do. I don't want for material things. I have more than enough food, a beautiful home, too many possessions. But I don't make time for myself. I don't take care of myself. I don't do for me what I do for others. And really, I think that the reason is that I've never felt like I deserved it. There are a million and one reasons that I could give for why I feel that way, but really, none of them matter.At this point, they have all become excuses. At some point, as an adult, you need to stop thinking about the negative lessons you learned as a child, let go of the impressions of yourself imposed upon you by others during your formative years, stop blaming your parents for your habits and predilections, and get the hell on with being a healthy and productive human being. And that's where I am. I've finally realized that, while it may be noble to live for my kids now, at some point, they will grow up and and move on into lives of their own, and I will be left with the repercussions of my current neglect. And I've only just realized that I deserve better.

I need to be the reason I get off the couch every day and go for a run. I need to be enough. My life, my well-being need to be what picks my ass up and pushes it out the door to the gym at 5am. I need to be my why. I am worth losing weight and getting healthy. I am worthy of it, too. It's just taken me until now to realize it.

A New Love

I was recently introduced to the AMAZING music and comedy of Tim Minchin. He is hilarious, insightful, irreverent and just absolutely, astoundingly, articulate. I can't get enough of him or his stuff. His song "White Wine In The Sun" is the best anti-Christmas/ Christmas song. Ever. Really. His ideas and his voice, his crazy hair and eye make-up and his general presence in and perception of the world remind me so much of my brother, Ray, that I am seriously becoming obsessed (in a non-stalker and totally healthy fan-girl kind of way!)
If you've not listened or experienced him, please do. He is incredible!

Enough

It's not that I don't have anything to say. But sometimes, I say something here and then don't know how to follow it. I posted last on the anniversary of my brother's death about my frustration and anger over the grieving process, and how long and protracted it can be. And then I didn't know what else to say. I've posted other blogs in other places (namely Facebook) but haven't brought them here because they seemed so disjointed with the mood I set with that post. And for some reason, it never occurred to me before now that there doesn't have to be continuity of theme and mood here any more than there does in my head. So I've had enough of splitting my posts and leaving the self loathing and painful posts hanging for months on end. I'm going to move my other posts here. So there'll be a bit of back dating and an influx of posts. Not a ton, but some, and then I'll try to get my head on straight and post here more often than not. For the whole three of you who pay occasional attention. :)

Tinseled TILT

It's been three weeks since I last TILTed. The end of the semester sucked the life out of me for a bit there. So today's TILT will include pieces from weeks past. It's a mixed bag on this Christmas Eve. :)

I love the excitement running through the boys' veins. Their energy and absolute adoration for this time of year is palpable. It's so much fun to watch and an honor to be a part of.

I love that my kids get to celebrate both Hannukah and Christmas. They win the holiday jackpot! I love that neither is JUST about presents for them or for us, that who they see is just as important and awesome for them as what they see in that box or under the tree.

I love my students. I've said it before, but really, they are awesome human beings. Many of my kids are away from their parents. They are living here with other relatives or friends. I love that when one of them has a birthday, the others pitch in and throw that kid a party during lunch. Someone comes late or leaves early to get a cake, they gather in my room, and they celebrate with and for each other. None of them ask for it. None of them expect it. But they all participate. It's an incredible and amazing thing to watch. It nearly brings me to tears every time they do it. It's such a little thing, but to the kids who otherwise wouldn't have a party or be celebrated or even acknowledged, it means the world.

I love the cold, sharp winter air. I don't so much love the itchy skin, but I can't get enough of the cold air into my lungs when I'm outside. It's my own little version of crack. :)

I love snow! It snowed! At my house! That hasn't happened in 30 years! It was barely enough to notice, but enough to paint the grass white for a few hours and cause my kids to lose their shit. It was awesome. I want more!

I love the lights and decorations, the music and the sounds of this season. I'm not always in the mood for it, but when I see my kids' faces light up over a song on the radio or movie on tv, it changes pretty quickly.

I love that Bette Midler found a way to Jew up classic Christmas carols. Her album "Cool Yule" has been on heavy rotation for a week now. :)

I love my trashy chili pepper lights on the outside of my house and on my mantle. I love the blue beast of a tree in my living room.

I love baking. I love the way the house smells when something's in the oven. I love the way the boys pop in and out of the kitchen while it's cooling on the rack, begging for a taste or just a little piece. I love having something sweet to share with friends when the mess is made and the baking's all done.

I love clarity.

I love Chinese food and movies when the rest of the world is running like mad to be somewhere else.

I love surprises (of the non-explosive variety) in my mailbox! I don't know why, but I am always surprised when I open the box and find a card or letter in there addressed to me. It makes my day and leaves me feeling all warm, tingly, and loved. :)

I love the quiet. It doesn't happen often, but as I type, my house is blissfully silent. The boys are sleeping. The Ninja is otherwise occupied, and I'm alone with my laptop and my thoughts. Heaven.

I love my people. My life would not be the wonderland it is without your contributions to it. You keep me sane and make me crazy all at the same time, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love you. I am thankful for you. And I hope you know that all year long.

Whether or not you're celebrating in the morning, I hope your day is an awesome one full of the things and people you love most.

Peace out, homies,
L

TILTing on the Tiltiest Day of Them All

Turkey edition:

This week, I am loving my immune system and my general good health. Being so sick last week, I realized that I take my health and strength for granted. I plan to change that. I need to change that.

I love my children. I love that my children are healthy and happy and well-adjusted.

I love my husband. I love that he loves me, dimples, wrinkles, grays, attitude and all.

I love my family.

I love that we have the luxury of too much food, Wii battles, and a day full of silliness with friends and loved ones today.

I love the people willing to sacrifice to afford us the luxury of a silly day and too much food. Deployed, stationed abroad, or home-side, thank you for your service and sacrifice.

I love peanut butter! I love that Sheryl sent me the MOST amazing peanut butter all the way from New York. I love Sheryl! Freaking. Amazing.

I love baking. I love getting my hands sticky, peeling apples with a paring knife, shooing the boys out of the kitchen, watching their faces light up and their excitement build as the smells of baking pies and breads waft through the house. I love having something delicious to show for the mess and the work.

I love making Thanksgiving dinner for my family. It's been a few years since I have because we've been pulled in various directions, but I love it. I love planning the menu, shopping for the ingredients, prepping, trying new recipes, and feeding the ones I love. It's messy and exhausting, but there's no other feeling like it. Next year.

I love humor. I love people who 'get' my humor and are hilarious in their own right.

I love people who are passionate and intelligent.

I love Ancient Angry Annie. Her total geriatric flame out at the grocery store yesterday made me laugh, made me squirm, but mostly gave me something to shoot for when I'm older than dirt. :)

And as always, I loooooooove my people. I am so very thankful for your presence and participation in my life. If I haven't said it before, let me say it now, I would not be here without you. My life would not be the rich and varied playground it is without you. Thank you.

I love that I have so much and so many to love and be thankful for today and every day. I also love that I can see how really very lucky I am.

What are you loving today?

Peace out, homies,

L

TILTing on the Edge of Insanity

This week's edition of TILT is brought to you by the flu.

I love 7-up and Orange juice, otherwise known as the elixir of life.

I love hot showers on an achy body.

I love that Ninja has come home from work early every day since I got sick to take care of the boys and cancelled his trip up north so he could be here to take care of them and me.

I love that my boys are relatively easily entertained, and go out of their way to keep busy when they know I'm sick and can't play with them.

I love that Victor called himself my 6 year old babysitter, ordered me to lay on the couch and cover up in a blanket, and kept touching my forehead to check my temperature on Tuesday when I first got sick.

I love that Oscar has kept touching my forehead and telling me "yous on fiyah mama, still sick. your head burned me!" every time he does.

I love that I have a job that allows me to take sick leave. I've taken three days off with this ick. That's more time than I've ever taken for anything other than death or maternity leave. I love that I was able to take these days off rather than having to struggle through and spread this crud around.

I love my immune system. Slowly but surely it's fighting off this virus. I'm not better, but I will be. I can feel it happening little by little.

I love soup.

I love my couch.

I love the big, thick, Mexican blanket that has been my cocoon for the last three days.

I love that I can whine about being sick on here and rather than telling me to suck it up, my friends and family ask how they can help.

I love my people.


And now I'm going to slink off and pass out on my couch again.

What are you loving today my lovelies?

Peace out, homies,
L

TILT-ilation on a Friday morning

I fell asleep again, and failed to TILT. Boo. But I fell asleep with an icky feeling midget snuggled up on my lap, so I think I get a pass.

Anyway, onto the love.

This week, I have SO much to love.

I love my birthday. It's Veteran's Day. I love that on my birthday, we stop and say thank you to those that make the freedoms and comforts we enjoy possible.

I love Ninja. He tries every year to make my birthday special and wonderful, and usually succeeds. It's not about the gifts or the stuff, but that he cares enough to try. Although I love that he bought me a Wii Fit, even though the last thing we needed was another game system. It was a completely unnecessary and frivolous purchase, which is exactly contrary to his nature, but he did it for me. And I love it. :)

I love my boys. They were more excited about my birthday than I was. Hearing them giggle and squirm in anticipation while I fruitlessly tried to sleep in was the best present ever. The hugs and kisses and 'you're beautiful's I got all day long were even better.

I love that Oscar has started singing Moto Moto's song from Madagascar 2 "I like 'em big, I like 'em CHUNKY!" It's hilarious!

I love unexpected visits from my mom. She drove all the way down here to see me on my birthday, and it was awesome.

I love my sister. She was sick but still got out of bed to bring me flowers and donuts at school. She even tortured my students by making them sing happy birthday to me before they could have a donut. She is awesome!

I love that Chaska is going to be a mama. That is one of the luckiest fetuses ever! Grow baby, grow!

I love having people. All day long my FB page and my phone were on fire with people telling me happy birthday and that they loved me. I have people! People who love me and aren't obligated by DNA to say so! It's a relatively new thing for me, to have so many people I call friend. It's a kind of security I have not enjoyed before. Thank you, friends!

I love that my favorite student finally got the glasses she needed. She can see now! And she loves her glasses. I caught her staring at people's faces yesterday as if it was the first time she'd seen them, just analyzing the detail and taking it all in. She was so cute walking into the room wearing them yesterday. She pointed to my glasses and then to hers and gave me a thumbs up. I freakin' love that kid!

I love saying thank you. It makes me feel good to acknowledge what others have done for me.

I love mashed potatoes.

I love mint.

I love the smell of chicken baking in my oven.

I love the sound of my boys playing, even when they're torturing each other.

I love my Ipod and all the delicious music it holds.

I love my phone. It keeps me connected no matter where I go.

And I love the absolutely wrong in the head women who keep me going and crack my shit up every single day. Thank you ladies. You know who you are.

And I also love the Assholympics, bringing a 'hole' new meaning to competition. Watch out for gravel, that shit snags!

What are you loving this week, my lovelies?

Peace out, homies,

L

TILTing a little late

I fell asleep before I could TILT last night, so I'm posting a little late. Sorry!
For anyone new to the world of TILT, it's a weekly posting of things I love. Tee, the fabulous Tee, started it a while back, and many of us have followed suit in sending out a little love and admiration into the Universe.

So here are the things I'm loving this week:

I LOVE THAT THE YANKEES ARE WORLD CHAMPIONS ONCE AGAIN!!!!!! Ahem, I mean, go Yankees! Woot!

I love playing games with the boys. Oscar has learned how to throw a ball, and Vic is learning how to use the computer. Watching them blossom while figuring out the intricacies of games, watching their minds work and their faces light up when they finally figure something out is absolutely and amazingly the best sight ever.

I love that Ninja is feeling better. He was really sick last weekend, and I was worried it would become something more, but he's on the mend and getting back to himself. It's pretty awesome.

I love Dia de los Muertos. The tradition, the ofrendas, the thinking and believing that goes into it. It's beautiful and wonderful and a little heartbreaking, but I love it more every year.

I love that it's pumpkin pie and egg nog season!

I love intelligent conversation, logic, respectful and mature discourse. I love people who know how to have that discourse and walk away still friends even if the conversation is heated.

I love my mother. I often don't understand her. I more often don't know how to talk to her. But I love her nonetheless.

Musically, I love Melody Gardot! I heard her on NPR the other day and can't stop listening to her. I love that she found music while recovering from a traumatic head injury, and then it became her life. She's amazing and so is her voice.
http://www.amazon.com/My-One-And-Only-Thrill/dp/B0027J4SKA/ref=pd_sim_dmusic_1

I love my friends, near and far. Y'all are insane, as Auntie Sugarbush says, not right in the head, but you are loving, amazing, wonderful human beings who enrich my life in more ways that I can list. Thank you.

What are you loving this week, my lovelies?

Peace out, homies,
L

TILTing Baby, One More Time

The fabulous Tee Tee makes us all want to be and feel better! To that end, she started posting lists of things she loves on Thursdays. It's an awesome way to refocus your energy and toss a little love and positivity out into the Universe. So many of us have followed in her footsteps.

Here's what I'm loving this week:

I love that Victor, who is just barely 6, is a voracious reader. As I sit here writing, he's finishing his second chapter book of the afternoon. Awesomeness!

I love that Oscar's favorite phrase right now is "what the BEAST?" He uses it when he doesn't understand or is surprised by something. It's his own little version of WTF? and it cracks me up EVERY time I hear him say it.

I love having grown up furniture in my bedroom! Ninja and I bought a new bedroom set last weekend and FINALLY have furniture as nice as the kids have. :) YAY!

I love having so many friends who are pregnant or with new babies. I love hearing their stories, seeing their pictures, and watching them become mothers to their babies. It's an awesome transition, not always smooth, but awesome nonetheless. Mostly, I love knowing that I can ooh and ahhh and smile and appreciate the cuteness without having to get up and feed it at 2am. :)

I love that I have local friends who love my kids as much as I do and think to include them in little things like lunch at school or trips to the park. That's the kind of stuff kids remember, and it's awesome. Thank you for being awesome!

I love honey crisp apples. They are the bombdiggity, yo. Seriously, manna from heaven. Or a tree. Whatever. Eat them!

I love autumn! The weather is amazing. The smells are so rich and delicious. I just can't get enough of fall.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE Halloween! I love seeing the kids dress up, hanging out with my local friends and their kids, seeing kids in the neighborhood meet and greet each other on the street. It's one of the few times during the year that the suburbanites come out of their houses with their kids. It's awesome to see just how many people actually live here!

I love the feeling that comes with finishing something and finishing well. I am surrounded by people who half ass everything they do (at work mostly), and it kills me. I love knowing that whatever I've done has been done to the best of my ability. I'm not perfect. I have my half assed days, but not much compares to finishing well.

I love getting organized. My desk at work was an atrocity until two days ago. Now everything has a place and is in it!

I also love binders and dividers! I couldn't run my classroom without them. Seriously, best organizational tool ever.

I love the smoky thick voice of Mercedes Sosa, a folk-type singer from Argentina :

http://www.amazon.com/Mercedes-Sosa-en-Argentina/dp/B0000015SU/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1256862352&sr=8-2

I love, LOVE my students. I had a sub yesterday because I was at the district office for meetings. The sub was apparently a complete asshat, cursing at the kids, lecturing them on their inferiority and the lameness of their home countries, insulting me and my classroom, throwing away or stealing my supplies-a reeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaal doodad. At the end of the third hour several of my kids had had enough and walked out to get another adult to deal with him but not until he started to talk badly about me. I love that they care enough about me and what I do for them to be insulted and upset by what he said. I love that they were willing to get in trouble to defend me. Mostly, I love that they recognized how wrong he was about them, about me, and about what we do every day. They are super awesome kids! (And yes, the doodad will be dealt with.)

I love sarcasm and people who understand it.

I love poke wars with friends I rarely get to see. It makes them seem so close even when they are so far away. :)

And as always, I love the amazing, freakishly intelligent, witty, complex and truly loving and lovely mix of crazy I call my friends. Nothing would be the same without you.

So you, what are you loving today?

Peace out, homies,
L

TILT the 3rd

Again, following in the footsteps of my awesome friend Tee Tee, I'm here to declare my love and adoration for the following people and things:

I love evening walks with the boys in the crisp autumn air. Mostly I love that the Ninja and I have given them a life that allows for evening walks together. It's a luxury many families cannot afford, and I am grateful.

I love snuggling in the frosty mornings with both boys. They still nestle in when I curl up next to them and let me hug on them and sniff their hair, tickle them awake and wish them a good morning. I love that. I will miss it when they are too big for snuggles and tickling in the morning.

I love that Victor has discovered Tai Pei and Shanghai, puzzle games on the computer. Watching him try to work through the tiles, focused and so serious, makes me giggle and delights me to no end. He's becoming a man so quickly.

I love that Oscar, so independent and feisty and ornery, tells me I'm beautiful at random times and for no particular reason, but when I most need to hear it.

I love healthy babies and happy mamas. "The Best Doctor Ever" had her little boy earlier this week, and it makes me giddy with glee to know that she's a mama now. Luckiest little boy ever, right there. :)

I love that my favorite student got to go on a field trip to a pumpkin patch today. She had never been on a school bus, seen a pumpkin up close, or seen hay before. And she got to drink fresh apple cider, pick a pumpkin off the vine, and go on a tractor ride. She was so excited this morning when I saw her waiting for the bus. It made my eyes tear up. Still does. I can't wait to hear how her day went when I see her tomorrow.

I love that I work with people who care enough to include her in their activities, even though they have no reason to feel obligated. They are just that awesome and caring and compassionate. Truly remarkable human beings.

I love seeing my former students doing well for themselves. Pham, shut it. 3.7 at Berkeley is amazing. And if you want a 4.0, stop going to brownie parties and crack those books! ;0)

I love the smells of autumn. Spicy and warm, a little smoky, but oh so comforting.

I love scarves.

I love the interwebs and all of the wonderment they bring to my life, not the least of which is:

http://projectrungay.blogspot.com/2009/10/tim-gunn-is-tired-of-your-bullshit.html

I love cooking. Food is love, y'all. I love making dinner for the family and hearing them say they love it too. I don't love the dishes or cleaning up after cooking, but that's for another list. ;0)

I love those whores I call friends. Still. Always.

I love being tagged in TILTs. It makes me smile and warms my heart to know that my peeps love me as much as I love them. But it still always surprises and humbles me that they think to include me in their lists of beloved things and people. You honor me, bitches. Truly.

What are you loving today?

Peace out, homies,
L

TILTing 2.0

It's Thursday again! Yay! Time for some unsolicited and unconventional love!

Things I'm loving:

*Watching Victor ride his bike. He just learned to ride without training wheels. He's so confident and proud as he zips around on two wheels. I can see the silhouette of the man he is becoming and it makes me so happy to know that that man will be a good one.

*Listening to Oscar talk. His language grows by leaps and bounds every single day. At two he can articulate his wants, needs, likes, and dislikes, better than some adults. His perspective is so funny sometimes. I absolutely adore listening to him and his stories.

*That my husband will come home from work early to take care of the boys so I can go sit in a meeting and support my friends who are potentially losing their jobs. That he recognizes how important they are and how important my being there for them is, makes him awesome.

*That my sons like each other. You can hear their laughter pealing off the walls wherever they go. It is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world and it makes my heart happy.

*Blustery weather. We had thunderstorms the likes of which I'd never seen earlier this week. It was awesome and frightening and so damn cool. It was as close to a typhoon as I've ever been, and about as close as I'd ever like to be. :)

*My principal. I've worked in a lot of places and for a lot of people. But I've never worked for a person anything like Eick. He is an awesome and amazing human being, and he's damn good at his job. He makes you want to do yours better just by being around. He's taking a beating, we are all taking a beating, over the current budget crisis and impending cuts. That part sucks, but what I love is that even in the face of so much sad and angry, he's an upbeat and positive guy making everyone around him feel the same way. It's an honor, a privilege, and a sincere pleasure that I get to go to work with him every day. (And he's not on my page so it's not like he'll read this-no sucking up. All truth!)

*That my favorite student can now tell me good morning, goodbye, ask how I'm doing and tell how she's feeling each day. I love that she is gaining language every day, and that she's comfortable enough now to give me high fives and small hugs. I love that she looks for my signal to tell her she's gotten something right, and that I can see when she doesn't understand just by looking at her. I love that she WANTS to learn and WANTS to do what everyone else is doing and is willing to try even if she doesn't have the right answer. And I love that she draws and colors me pictures every day and says thank you when she pins them to my wall.

*I still love that I get to do this every day.

*Hebrew. Awesomeness.

*Change. Sometimes things get stale and stinky. Sometimes they get old and boring. Change is good. Change is necessary. Change keeps things alive and interesting.

*Bean soup.

*Helping the people I love understand each other. It doesn't always work, but I try anyway just in case.

* Being crafty. I suck at crafts, but it's fun to get my hands sticky and colorful in the name of pointless crafty fun.

*NPR and PRI.

*My peeps. All of 'em. You keep my heart happy and my feet on the ground. I will never be able to thank you enough for the rich and varied ways you make me better.

Peace out, homies.

L

Fasting

This year, I decided to fast in observance of Yom Kippur. I've attempted it in the past, but have never made it through the entire 25 hour period of fasting. It was a fascinating experience. I don't enjoy being hungry. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience. But it gave me a sense of clarity and appreciation I've not experienced before. I take a lot for granted. I indulge too much in a variety of vices and luxuries that don't exist for many. Every pang of hunger, rumble of the tummy, and wave of dizziness reminded me how fortunate I am that this is not my every day existence. It brought into sharp relief the abundance of good fortune in my life and made me think about how often I take that for granted. It caused me to consider how desperately I need to make some changes, how irresponsible I've been in some regards, and reminded me how much I have to lose if I don't.
It was a quiet day of contemplation and consideration that I don't think I'd have had otherwise.

TILTing For The Very First Time

TILT stands for Things I Love Thursday.

My awesome friend Tee Tee started a tradition. Every Thursday she posts a list of things she loves. I'm a fan of public declarations of love and a huge fan of hers, so I've finally decided to hop on board and post a list of my own.

I love:

my kids. der. :) They are wicked tough to deal with somedays but they make my life exciting and colorful in ways I'd never imagined possible. They also remind me how awesome it is just to be alive on a daily basis.

my husband. He's a class act. He's not perfect, but neither am I. He tolerates my shit and still respects me in the morning. I call that a win.

my job. That I have one in this ecnomy is enough to love, but that I GET to go to work every day and do what I love is amazing.

my students. They don't realize how much more they teach me every day. Their stories are inspiring and heartbreaking and some days the progress they make takes my breath away.

that I have the luxury of fasting. I fasted in observance of Yom Kippur this year. While I fasted I thought a lot about why I was doing it and what it meant. I realized that for some people, that gnawing, aching hunger I felt in the middle of the day is an every day reality. For me it was a choice, a self imposed restriction, a luxury. It made me extremely grateful for the abundance of comforts I am privileged to enjoy.

my friends. No matter what, my friends know who I am and where I stand. They don't all know each other. They don't all love each other. But they all know and love me, and for that I am eternally in their debt.

the freak show that is my school's neighborhood. It never fails to provide me with the entertainment I need. Today I saw a nearly naked woman in a car full of filthy children shaving her face and neck with a bic razor parked out front. I am stiiiiiiill laughing!

the delete button and knowing when to stop myself. Some things should stay inside my head. I love that I have the self control to keep them there.

Cakeob (my friend Jakob) and his crazy music/lyrical status updates that bring me new and awesome music to experience.

days like yesterday that are the perfect mix of instruction and advocacy. They let me know I'm in the right place, doing the right things, and making a difference on this big round rock.

I'll stop. I could go on for days because things are just that awesome. :o)

Peace out homies,

L

Non-linear

I can usually find the words a friend in pain needs to hear. I can tell them to let their grieving happen. That it takes time. That there is no set schedule for grief or healing. That the process is not linear. Their pain and anger will ebb and flow, sometimes disappear and reappear seemingly at random. That it will eventually change, and in that change there will be better times. And when I say these things to my friends, I mean them. I know them to be true. They are not quippy phrases or Hallmark sentiments. They are lessons I've learned through my own pain and processing.
But when it IS my pain, when it IS my grief, I cannot get past the non-linear nature of it. I am frustrated by my sadness. Overwhelmed by my anger. I am angry at my inability to simply be o.k. I am annoyed by the hollow feeling and inescapable emptiness I sometimes feel, rather annoyed by inablitiy to just climb out of the hole this loss has created in my heart. Iam irritated by my regression; full of rage that I am back in a place, clouded and dark, where everything hurts or is numb. Because I should be past this. I should be over it. I should have healed by now. Instead, I am a raw nerve, frayed and tangled, just waiting for one more reason to shoot sparks of pain into the universe.
And I feel like a hypocrit.

Dear Joe Wilson,

You are a complete douche bag. Your little outburst during PRESIDENT Obama's speech last night threw into sharp relief the complete lack of respect you, your party, and people like you have, not only for the man in office, but the office itself. It is no wonder to me, any longer, why you allowed a complete idiot to be the face of your party for so long. You aren't smart enough to know better.

Had that speech been delivered by W, you would have applauded. Had that speech been delivered by anyone other than PRESIDENT Obama, you would have sat quietly through it, grumbled your dissent, and gone about your day. But because it was PRESIDENT Obama at the microphone, you felt entitled to openly call him a liar? Who raised you? Who taught you that the PRESIDENT of the United States is not entitled more respect than to be interrupted and openly insulted while addressing the nation he leads? You should be embarrassed and ashamed. Your party should, too.

Newsflash, snowflake. Your mama lied. You are not the center of the universe. You aren't even an important piece of the machinery. You've done little to nothing to make this place better. So until you get off your happy ass and do so, keep your commentary and criticisms to yourself. And for the love of Pete, remember your place. When the PRESIDENT is addressing you, keep your pie hole shut.

Sincerely,

This angry bitch now fueled by outrage.

One of THOSE days……

Have you ever had one of those days where everything you touch disintegrates beneath your fingers? Where everything you hear is a slight or an insult? Where everything you do turns out wrong, disastrously, inexplicably wrong? Have you ever had one of those days where no matter what you say or who is around, no one seems to hear you? Where everyone you meet needs a smack or a throat punch just to knock enough sense into them to make them go away? Have you ever just wanted to scream and shout and pull out your hair and have a giant flaming tantrum because the Universe is just pissing you off THAT much?

That was my day.

Why is it that one shit-brown day can undo weeks of positivity and hard work? Why does one little day, one single set of 24 hours, have so much power? Am I really that much of a sissy la la princess that a few hours of crappy behavior by others can make me feel so worthless and pathetic? When did I become such a weak-minded asshole? I mean, I am a grown ass woman. I have accomplished so much. I work hard. I have two beautiful kids and a marriage in progress. I have students I adore who work hard and do well. I have a job that matters. I make positive contributions every time I set foot on campus. I have friends who love me, and whom I love dearly. Why can a couple of dicks make me forget all the good I have around me so quickly? Why can one bad night turn it all on its head? What the hell is wrong with me that I can't put into perspective? I'm teetering on the edge of a complete flame out. Some of the people around me are just ridiculous. Their stupidity is so maddening, it's overwhelming. I need to get myself under control before I lose it and let them ruin everything I've worked for. Someone tell my temper because it's not listening to me anymore.

6

Dear Victor,
Every year, your birthday is a source of excitement and joy. You count down the days until it arrives, and are giddy the entire day of because it's 'your' day. 24 hours under your complete (albeit supervised) control. In the past, your birthdays have been filled with trips to the park and board games, soy ice cream and vegan cakes, movies and snuggling on the couch. In the past, you were a little boy. Today, your birthday was filled with school, a surprise trip to the golf course with your papa, and a late dinner out at the restaurant of your choosing. The day passed, hustled and bustled, and I barely had time to hug you tight, tell you I love you and wish you a happy day.
You are not a baby any more. You are a young man. There are days when I struggle to see you as you are and not as you used to be. But it's so easy to see the wonderful man you are becoming. You have been the light of our lives for six amazing years. I look forward to watching you grow and mature for many, many more.

I love you forever and always,

Your mama

Sometimes they just break your heart.

I've been a teacher for a relatively long time. This is my ninth year. In those nine years, I've had hundreds of students. Each of them came to me with their own story, their own traumas and triumphs, their own little take on the world. Each of them, in their own way has touched me and shaped the way I see and interact with the world. Many of them are the reason I come back to teaching year after year. On any given day, I feel prepared to handle whatever my students bring me, be it sorrow or joy, serious conversation or light-hearted celebration. Today a little girl walked through my door and showed me just how much I still have to learn. I can't post much about her particular circumstances, but suffice it to say that such a short life should not contain so much abuse and neglect. The scars of her past are visible on her person and in her eyes. Her fear and uncertainty were palpable as soon as she walked through my door. She recoiled from my hand as I gently touched her shoulder, and it took a concerted effort for her to raise her eyes up off the floor. It broke my heart to watch her struggle with simply being in the room.
As the days go by and I try to teach her English, I have a feeling I'm going to have to teach her much more than a language, and I have no idea how I'm going to do it. Watching her trying to shrink into her desk, trying to hide in plain sight reminds me how fortunate my children and I are to be where we are and have the lives that we do. It may sound odd, but I am thankful that she found her way to me. I am almost certain she has as much to teach me as I do her.

What a difference a year makes.

Dear Victor,
A year ago, you couldn't sleep for nervousness over starting school and the changes that would bring. You got up early, excited, scared, unsure about what the day would bring. You fingered your breakfast, not really wanting to eat, in too much of a hurry to get your clothes on and get on with your day, your new 'life' as a kindergartner. You walked up to the school, anxious and excited, clutching your papa's hand the whole way, wanting to go but not quite ready to let go. You wavering confidence was adorable and oddly reassuring. On the playground, waiting for the bell to ring and your new class to start, you became confident and reassured that kindergarten would be fun and you would make friends. The walk into kindergarten was easy and exciting, as long as you were holding my hand.

Today you began first grade. There was no nervousness, no fright, and the doubts you had about being able to handle first grade were fleeting. The day couldn't begin early enough for you. You inhaled your breakfast,














threw on your clothes,















and waited by the door impatiently. For an hour.


















You didn't walk up to school, so much as you ran, your little brother chasing behind you.The walk to class was more like a swagger, and there was no time to hold hands.

When it came time for class to start, you sat patiently,














raised your hand, and let the whole room know you were there and ready to get down to the very serious business that is first grade.












You are such an incredible little boy.
I'm so excited to see what this year has in store for you, and you for it!

Love,

Mama

Some things never change.

I was out of the classroom for a whole year. While I was gone, I fretted that upon my return, things would be horribly different, new, foreign. The weeks leading up to the start of school were sleepless and anxiety ridden as I chewed my lips and paced the floor trying to plot my courses and plan every minute of the days ahead of me. I felt surprisingly like a first time teacher all over again. Until today. Today I walked back into that room and it felt like home. A few things are different, like the tardy and cell phone policies (which are ever changing and often hardly enforced) and some of the faces walking the halls. But that feeling, that sense of purpose, that knowledge that what I do here matters, those never change. I've never been more grateful for, more humbled or excited by that than I am this year. It's good to be home.

Ten.

Dear John,

Ten years ago, at this hour, I was laying on a sleeping bag on my mother's livingroom floor, listening to my very drunk brother nattering in my ear. He went on and on and on about what it means to be married, how hard it is to be a good partner, how much work having a successful relationship is. Having never actually accomplished ANY of those things, I told him to take his drunk ass to bed so I could get some sleep, lest I have bags under my eyes the next day. I threatened to beat him about the head with my shoe if he didn't let me get some sleep. He waxed philosophic for a few more minutes, kissed me on the forehead, told me he loved me and was happy for me, and stumbled off to pass out in our other brother's room. I laid there for a long while thinking about all he'd said, marveling at how he could know all of those things well enough to say them to me, and yet his own relationships were nothing short of disasters for the most part.
I eventually fell asleep, only to wake with the sun in order to prepare for our wedding. As I moved through the day, preparing to say my vows and begin a life in tandem, I wasn't nervous. I wasn't anxious. I was freaking. tired.
As I stood at the end of the aisle, waiting for the Star Wars theme to begin so I could take my brother's arm and make my way toward marriage, I punched him in the arm and called him an asshole. Then I told him I loved him, and thanked him for the pep talk. We marched down the aisle to you.
As the minister spoke the words I'd carefully crafted, I didn't hear her. I didn't see her. I didn't hear or see anyone but you. I stifled delirious giggles and sucked back tears of exhaustion, waiting for her to say that I was married to you. When those horrible fake nails and that damned twine I insisted on tying around our vows conspired to frustrate me, I let the tears loose and sobbed, surrendering to the fatigue and the moment. I don't think a single person in the audience understood a word I said for a good five minutes. I nearly lost my shit in front of God and everyone, but you reached across the empty space between us and wiped the tears from my cheeks and everything was right with the world once again.
The rest of the ceremony and reception is kind of a blur. I remember dancing down the aisle to Queen's "Another One Bites The Dust" much to the chagrin of every other adult in attendance, and not caring that we couldn't dance without tripping over each other. I remember dancing alone in the middle of the dance floor with you, doing the Time Warp with my friends, and shaking lots of hands. I remember Berta falling, drunken groomsmen getting up to no good, and a serious shortage of beer. But mostly, I remember being with you.
It's been ten years. Much of that time is a blur as well. My brother is gone, but I've come to realize that everything he said to me that night was true. This marriage, this partnership, has been hard, and rewarding, work. We've both gotten new jobs, new careers. We've bought a house. We've become older, wiser, better people. We've created a family. This life we've made, in some ways so much like we'd always planned and in some ways so very different, is a beautiful one. In all the memories I've collected over the last ten years, those that are strongest are the ones I made with you.
It hasn't always been easy, and it's far from perfect, but I can't imagine having made these memories with anyone other than you.
Happy anniversary,
Boo

Holy shit 2 months!

I can't believe it's been two months since I've had anything to say. How is that possible? It's not. Really. It's not. I've just had a boat load of stuff going on. I can't tell you how many times I've been to the gym and seen a middle-aged ass hanging out of spandex, sat through a meeting listening to mental midgets blather on about how smaaaaaaaaaht they are, or cruised through the market only to be hissed at by a free-range toddler spitting and snatching cookies off the shelf, and thought "maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan I've got an angry letter for you!" Alas, those letters never got written because life got in the way. I kinda suck like that. I apologize. That letter to the spandex wearing freak at the gym (seriously, who wears a speedo to do cardio?) reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally needs to be written! In fact, I think that's where I'll take this apology, right back to our regularly scheduled asshattery:

Dear Speedo-sporting Douchebag,
You can't be serious. You can't be. No one in their right mind wears a Speedo, not even Michael Phelps! They are not flattering on the fittest of physiques, which yours doesn't even remotely resemble. Seriously man, I neeeeeeeeeed to get my cardio on. But when I walk into the gym and see your spandexed ass hanging out all over the machines, I just can't. I can't do it. I can't even touch the machine knowing your barely covered crack has been near it.
You have the softest thighs and roundest hips I have ever seen on a man. Spandex is NOT helping. In fact, it's traumatizing. The last time we saw you on the Helliptical machine, my son asked me why you were allowed to work out in your underwear while everyone else had to wear pants! You're scarring the children, homie! Scarring them!
For the love of all that is holy, cover up the junk in your trunk! Hell, cover up the trunk too! It's just wrong! And burn the spandex Speedo. Burn them so you won't ever be tempted to wear them in public or private again. Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. And really, you shouldn't.

Sincerely,

The crack-phobic fatty waiting for a clean machine.

It went so quickly.

Dear Victor,
It seems like just yesterday that we were walking you, so nervous and excited you didn't say a word, to your first day of kindergarten. You were so brave, so strong that day. I watched you walk in and greet your classmates like you were old friends, settling into your new role as a student without a second thought or hesitation. I, on the other hand, went home and bawled like a baby. You are not a baby,not even a little boy, any more. You are a little man. The year was not without it's challenges, boredom, brats, and bullies to name a few, but you faced each one head on and overcame them all, mostly on your own. I could not be more proud of the boy you are, or the man you are becoming. I love that you are so excited for first grade and all the adventures it will hold. You are one amazing kid, and I can't wait to see all of the amazing things that you will do.


I love you buddy,
Mama

Good Lord, I'm depressing.

Here, watch this!

Rites of Passage

Sometimes I think that Victor asking to go to the synagogue last year was more for me than it was for him. Since venturing over there, I have repeatedly been floored by things I've heard or seen there. All in a good way, but also unsettling. It's uncanny how the Rabbi's seem to say what I need to hear, or direct me to something I need to read without my saying a word.
A few weeks ago, Rabbi Nancy lost her father. After she returned to the synagogue, she was talking about her loss, and her grief, and she said "It's a rite of passage. It is. And it's ok." And it stopped me. This year has been marked by loss and sadness for my family, both home and work families. I have been to several funerals, several hospitals, and muttered countless prayers under my breath for the people I love. For her to say, days after losing her father, that death is a rite of passage and it's ok floored me. Because she's right, and I had never considered it before. It's not ok to lose the people you love. It sucks. It can be maddeningly painful. But it's inevitable. What's ok is to grieve for them. To feel that pain, that loss, and then to let it go. It's the letting go that I struggle with. Others it's the feeling. But for me, it's the letting go. I don't know how to not be sad for what could have been. I don't know how to not grieve for lost opportunities and connections, for missed events and tasks left undone. I want to know. I want to let go. I think in some ways, I've started to, and in others, my heart remains steadfastly clenched around the hurt and the hole they left behind.
Rabbi Nancy is assured by her unwaivering faith that there is something more than this life. That those she's lost will be waiting for her when her time comes. I don't have that faith. I have questions, and doubt, and uncertainty. But I want it. I find myself, for the first time in my adult life, hoping that I'm wrong. Hoping that there is something more, someone waiting on the other side of that particular rite of passage.

Neglected

This poor blog has been so neglected. It's been a helluva year so far. At some point, I'll sit down and write the fifty blogs rolling around in my head. But not now.

Dear Ramon,

We weren't expecting that phone call. I don't think any of us thought you were capable of dying. I know I didn't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry we didn't visit more. I'm sorry the boys didn't get to know you the way they should have. I'm sorry I didn't insist that we spend more time with you.
We didn't always get along. We couldn't always be in the same room at the same time, but I hope you knew that I know how important you were, and still are, to John. You were the single most positive and influential person in John's life. You taught him how to be a man when no one else would. You were the one person I knew he would talk to, even when he wouldn't talk to me. You were more of a brother to him than his own brother has ever been. You gave him a chance, and a job, when no one else was willing. You helped him find his way, and led him to me. I never thanked you. I took it for granted that I'd have the time to tell you exactly what you meant to him, to us. I was stupid. And I'm sorry.
I hope you didn't suffer. I know you weren't ready. You said so. We weren't ready either.
You were loved, jefe. You still are.
L

Dear Oscar,

Two years ago today, you came flying into the world, surprising everyone with your strength,assertiveness, and absolute male-ness.

It doesn't seem possible that you are two years old already. You have been the light and laughter in our lives since the day you were born.
It seems ridiculous that there was ever a time without you.
You are learning to talk more and more each day. The words you use, the phrases you create, fascinate and amaze me. You are so very expressive. I love the way you have figured out how to show what you cannot say. Your hands are never still, and your mind is never quiet. Your little dances and playful songs make me giggle, and remind me how very lucky I am to get to spend this time with you.
I forget sometimes that you are only just two. Your soul is much older. Your eyes are so much deeper. They always have been. It's easy to get lost in them, to forget all the growing and learning you still have to do.
I look forward to what each day brings you, what each day brings us through you. You are fearless and adventurous, the bravest little boy I've ever met. Your curiosity and desire to see, learn, and know all you can will take you so far in life. Even when you frustrate me, you amaze me, little man. There has never been another little boy quite like you.
And I thank my lucky stars that you're mine. Happy birthday, my sweet prince.
May you have many, many more before you.
Love,
Mama