Summer

It’s turning out to be a deliciously low key weekend. Of course, it’s not even half over, and my daughter’s been gone for all of it so far.

I will say that together my children create a certain amount of conflict that makes parenting one of them feel WAAAAY easier that it probably actually is. Not only do I only have to meet the needs of one child, which is logistically simpler, but I don’t have to keep the two of them from attacking each other while I’m attending to those needs. Parenting just one kid, when you’ve become accustomed to two feels like a vacation. You may even (GASP!) manage to get some shit done!

This morning my son and I had to stay at home until 10am so I could be at my computer at 10am for summer camp registration. By some miracle I got on the website not long after it went live (there was a lot of ERROR-SITE OVERLOAD messages and refreshing going on) and managed to get my daughter signed up for the four weeks of camp I needed at the end of her school year when I’m still teaching. My friend didn’t get on until 5 minutes after me and the first week of camp was already filled. Summer camp registration is no joke.

I also signed my daughter up for four weeks of drama and dancing camp at the end of the summer. There is a part of me that feels guilty about that–I’m off then and don’t NEED her to be in camp), but mostly I’m just really excited to have some me time to look forward to this summer. We’d both go crazy if she were home for ten weeks, I’m sure a fun camp will make those weeks more enjoyable for both of us.

I also need her in camp on of those weeks because I’m going to Colorado for five days to meet up with some blogging buddies and run a half marathon. I’m super excited for the trip, both to hang out with women who have become genuinely close friends (despite significant geographical distances, and never having met face to face) and to get away from my family for a bit.

We also have a trip planned as a family, to visit my aunts, uncles and cousins (and their kids) in St. Louis. My uncle recently bought a “farm” (basically a giant house on a ton of land) about an hour outside of the city and all of my father’s family (including my parents) will be spending 4th of July weekend there. Some of us will be staying at the farm for a whole week, including my cousin whose kids are almost exactly the same age and gender as mine. There is a quarry with water so clear you can see 60ft to the rocks below, with a pontoon boat for partying and a little row boat for fishing. There is also a creek winding through some trees, and fields of grass as far as the eye can see.

Growing up in Hong Kong we spent the entire summer in St. Louis and I am very close with my cousins. I love spending time with them and their kids, and I can’t wait for my kids to have some cousin time too. When we were young my uncle’s family (the same one who owns the farm) had a house in the Ozarks, right on the lake, and we spent a week there every summer fishing, water skiing and swimming off the dock. It was the one week my dad spent with us in the States, and the one week my aunts and uncles took off to hang out with us. Those weeks at the Ozarks hold my fondest childhood memories and I have high hopes that this new farm will be the back drop for the same happy times for my children. I really can’t wait to spend the week there, especially since it will probably be the last summer our grandmother will be with us to share in the fun.

The time has changed, the days are warmer and I definitely have summer on the brain. With the start of the third trimester we only have twelve weeks left of school. In two weeks it’s spring break and then a two month marathon to summer. Looking forward to that time, I’m thankful to have decided not to look for a new job. I’m elated that those weeks can be for me to replenish myself for the school year ahead.

What do you have planned for the summer months?

Bric-a-brac

I’ve wanted to write this week, but by the time I get the dishes washed, lunches packed, coffee maker ready, laundry folded and clothes laid out, it’s already way past my bedtime. I’ve also had to utilize every minute of prep time at work just to stay on top of things. But now it’s Friday and there is just a little space to breathe, so I’m making the time to get a few thoughts down, before this week is over.

I did it! All by myself! I got the kids to school/daycare, and me to work, on time two mornings this week. It was chaos, and chocolate chip cookies were involved, but by gosh, we made it happen. I’m still in shock.

Springing forward totally threw us for a loop this year. My 2-year-old is still falling asleep LATER than he would have before the time change. Unfortunately he is not waking up later. I feel like I’ve been scammed. I’m not happy about it.

While I hate what it’s done to our sleep, I LOVE the lighter afternoons. Twice this week we took advantaged of the lingering sunlight to play at the park or scooter on the blacktop. The warm days after a week of grey wind and rain only added to our delight.

On a related note: my allergies are going crazy right now. A winter of decent rain fall, followed by warm sun equals crazy pollen counts. I want to rip my eyes out of my head and scratch my throat all day long. It’s miserable. My daughter has been similarly affected. Even my students have been commenting on it. It seems no one is safe.

My mother spent the night on Tuesday so she could take my son to school on Wednesday (I have to be at work earlier on Wednesdays and was worried that, with traffic, I wouldn’t make it). After she dropped him off, she went back to my house and did a big clean. It looks amazing, and I’ve been working hard all week to keep it picked up. I really do love a clean house. I hope that some day I can manage to keep our spaces neat. A girl can dream.

I don’t miss my husband yet but he’s only been gone three nights. Maybe after another two I’ll start to miss him? I’m kind of panicked that I never will miss him, and then I’ll wonder what that means.

I have not looked into marriage counseling yet; it’s on my to-do list for tonight. Nothing like cocktails, a movie and google-searching marriage counselors for a fun Friday night!

I went for a run yesterday and it ended up being one of the most unpleasant five miles of my life. I kept getting side stitches, and no amount of deep belly breathes kept them at bay. I was super tired the whole time, I actually had to work at not closing my eyes while I ran! It was the first day of my period, and my prolapse was uncomfortable. In the end my knee hurt and by the final mile my hips hurt. I never get knee or hip pain when I run so that was disconcerting. There are few times when I make myself exercise and regret it, but yesterday was definitely one of them. I am excited not to have to work out tonight though!

It was insanity getting my grades ready for Wednesday, but once that was done I road the wave of manic productivity and changed my general practitioner and my kids’ pediatrician to doctors at a new campus closer to my house. I am excited to have this excuse to ditch our pediatrician because I was not a fan, but I would have hated seeing someone else at her office (conflict averse much?!) lest I run into her in the waiting room one day. The new campus opening closer to us was a perfect excuse to switch, and I even got a recommendation from a friend for her pediatrician, who was taking on new patients!

This afternoon I’m seeing my new GP about some tendinitis/overuse pain in my pointer finger. It’s not bad, but it’s not getting better and I want to make sure I’m not doing anything to exacerbate it. I can’t decide if I’m going to ask her about this thing in my nose (I think a zit?!) that has been super painful for over a month. It’s in a weird spot that I can’t see, and it’s really bothering me, but I hate asking someone to look up my nose. Ugh. Noses are gross.

Rec and Park’s summer camp registration is this Saturday. I want to get my daughter into a really impacted camp for the first three weeks of her break because I still have school then. I will be at my computer at 10am vigorously refreshing the registration page. Crossing my fingers I get her in.

Thinking about summer camp has me thinking about summer break in general. I actually have two really fun trips planned this summer (more about them later), so I’m looking forward to July. I’m also thinking about having surgery for my pelvic organ prolapse in early August. I sent an email to my OB specialist to request an appointment to discuss the pros and cons again.

And…I guess that is it for now. I got through this insane week, and I’m still in one piece. Wonders never cease!

What are you up to these days?

So why am I crying all the time?

I suspect some of you may be wondering why showing myself self-compassion has resulted in frequent cry-fests. Isn’t the point of being kind to myself to feel better?

I practice self-compassion when I’m in a situation that is conjuring strong emotions. Usually I’ve had a really draining altercation with my husband, or struggled to manage my kids challenging behaviors, or gotten a biting, blaming email from a parent, or identified some way in which I’ve failed to meet a goal. Before self-compassion I would either get angry, or resentful or guilt-ridden or some combination of the three, and then ultimately I would push down my negative feelings and go on my not-so-merry way.

Now, instead of getting angry or resentful or guilt-ridden, I validate the difficulty of the situation and how it makes me feel. Then I show myself kindness, assure myself that I’m worthy of love, and remember that all humans struggle. Suffering is a share human experience–the ultimate common denominator.

You might expect I could inform this little ritual and move on, but most of the time those steps are only the beginning. For some reason, validating my struggle and showing myself compassion usually touche some deep, long-ignored pain. It turns out I’ve spent a lot of years berating myself for not being the person I expect myself to be, for not sucking it up, for not being grateful enough, for not putting my suffering into perspective. I have belittled my feelings by comparing my circumstances to the truly unfortunate, found my own struggles lacking, and felt shame for my lack of emotional fortitude. Clearly I was told (or it was modeled) growing up that the acceptable course of action was to suck it up, and get over it.

All this denying my shameful feelings has led to a lot of repressed hurt. When I acknowledge my pain and disappointment, it activates similar pain and disappointment that I pushed down, and in some cases the activation is profoundly deep. Right now, showing myself love and compassion requires the lancing and irrigating old wounds. In the moment it’s an excruciating exercise, but it is also allowing deep, fester hurts to finally heal.

And healing does happen. I am starting to experience situations that always triggered a certain response in surprisingly different ways. I’m starting to see entrenched behaviors for what they are, without a bruised ego making excuses or blaming others. Hurts I didn’t know I was harboring are healing. Patterns are changing, or at least being recognized. Yes I am crying a lot, but they are ultimately productive tears, and I have faith that soon touching those old wounds won’t cause quite so much pain, and eventually practicing self-compassion won’t trigger a sob fest.

Full Circle

{So this post started one way, and ended another. And the way it ended felt pretty profound. It may seem like I figured all this stuff out already– I’ve written all of these things before–but for some reason they came together with a kind of perfect clarity today, and instead of suspecting these truths, I suddenly knew them, deep in my bones. Like I had been looking at photographs of where I might get to be some day, and for the first time was actually seeing the place with my own eyes.}

It turns out, treating yourself with self-compassion is pretty time consuming. At least in the beginning, when doing so activates deep wells of hurt and you end up ugly crying on your bed, in your classroom, in your car.

It’s exhausting too. Emotional hangover abound.

Things with my husband are not great right now. He leaves for SXSW this coming Tuesday, so we’re just trying to get through the weekend so we can both have a break from each other. I brain farted at some point and thought he was leaving a week later than he was, and my nightmare scenario of having him gone the week grades are due is actually what’s happening. (Maybe the sheer panic of that reality forced me into denial!?) We’re both on autopilot, just trying to get through the days. Our kids need pretty much constant surveillance and micro-managing to avoid massive, screaming, physical altercations, so we’re both keeping our heads down and our mouths shut.

I know I’m the one who has to make the appointment to see a counselor if any appointment is going to be made. My husband just doesn’t do these things. His parents pestered us tirelessly about getting life insurance last year. I’ve had mine for almost 12 months–he still hasn’t taken the first step. I don’t know what kind of external pressure he needs to accomplish these things, but I don’t intend to put it on him about the counseling appointment. He expressed a willingness to participate and that is more than a lot of men would do. So now I need to put on my big girl pants and find a therapist and make the call. Of course, I don’t have the time for this shit either, but I’ll find a way to get it done, because that is what women are expected, and taught, to do.

I’ve been accessing self-compassion a lot these past few days–feeling like a failure in one’s marriage, and as a parent, can trigger some intensely negative emotions–and while I appreciate that it’s a much healthier way of dealing with these things, it can put me out of commission for a significant period, both during (see above: ugly cries) and after (see above: emotional hangovers). There are some days I start to repeat the self-compassion mantras and show myself the love and caring I need, and I have to shut it down because I know I don’t have 15 minutes to cry on the floor of the kitchen, or I don’t want my kids finding me red-eyed, with tears drying on my cheeks.

I’m sure that as I work with self-compassion more the emotions will be more manageable and the recovery time less restrictive, but right now the whole emotional ordeal of treating myself kindly is kind of prohibitive.

I’m also reading yet another book on discipline through connection (I have NOT been happy with how I’m handling my kids’ challenging behaviors and I need some reminders of what to do and why I need to do it) and while I absolutely agree with the premise and believe it’s the right method for me and my family, it requires–must like self-compassion–an abundance of time and emotional fortitude that I just don’t feel I have right now.

I am trying to find ways to carve out more time in our daily routine, so that we’re not so rushed when we get home to start bedtime and so I don’t feel quite so desperate for that last hour of quiet at the end of the night. I know a lot is going on, and tension with my husband (even if we’re successfully not engaging in negative interactions, which we’ve actually been pretty good at), is compounding the stress and emotional exhaustion I’m feeling right now. I know things are going to get better. But I am also recognizing that I need to make a lot of difficult, intentional choices about what our lives look like if I’m going to be able to show myself self-compassion, engage my husband with love and caring, and manage my children’s difficult behaviors with connection.

Looking at life through this lens, I think I would have to have find a dream job to even consider leaving my position next year. What I need to focus on right now is simplifying my life, by having less stuff and fewer commitments. I am already on this path, and even thought I’ve only taken small steps in this direction, I recognize that this is absolutely the path I need to be traveling. I think the desire to find a new job was the vestigial urge of a past self, a need to distract myself from everything I’m unhappy with, a shiny something NEW to focus on. The problem with that route is that eventually the new job won’t be new anymore, or it will be so time consuming as to override the positives of it being new, and I will be left with the same messes in my marriage and with my kids as I’m struggling with now.

I’ve written before about the emptiness I tend to feel in my life now that I’ve accomplished all my milestones. I think looking for a new job was an attempt to create a new milestone moment in my life. To have something to anticipate and look forward to. But I see now that this is not the time. Right now I need to focus my efforts on being the partner, parent and teacher that I want to be.

Have I decided this out of fear? Possibly. Honestly, even if I were, it’s okay. I truly believe staying at my job is the best thing for me right now, despite whatever might have inspired the decision. And I don’t think that is what’s going on. I came to the realization, right now, as I was writing this and lamenting how little time I have to show myself, my husband and my children, the love and care we all deserve, and suddenly it dawned on me that having a new job would mean I’d have even less time. Now I am sure that looking for a new job was not right for me, at least not right now.

And it feels good, actually, like my life has a purpose again. For the first time in a long time (maybe ever?!) I have a general understanding of where I want to go and the basic direction I should travel in to arrive there. I have spent my entire life looking for happiness outside myself, in stuff, in my circumstances. Evidently I needed to attain everything I always wanted to realize that none of it, not even all of it together could make me truly content. How ironic that I actually needed less to feel satisfied, that all that reaching for the things I thought I wanted actually added to the emotional dissonance that has forever hummed in the background.

Now I see the truth, and I know what I need to do. I really and truly know. I’m sure I’ll mess up, and take missteps, but I think it will be much easier to find my way back to the path now. I am finally on my way.

Should I stay or should I go now?

I’m driving myself crazy thinking about my job. Do I want to stay? Do I want to leave? It’s gotten to the point that I don’t feel like I can trust my own thoughts on this stuff anymore.

The drama at work was resolved–quickly and crazily. Before they could count the official ballots for the “vote of no confidence,” we had a staff meeting. The first hour of it was business as usually. Then, without warning, our principal was at the front of the room announcing her resignation. It was a practiced and polished speech about how she needed to do this for her family and she feels drawn to working with recent immigrants, like she did when she first started teaching. It was made all the more awkward since we knew it was complete and utter bullshit–she had clearly been made aware of what was going on and saw the writing on the wall: either she resigned or had her name dragged through the mud. Understandably, she choose the former.

The speech was over in three minutes, but I couldn’t even look at her. I felt so bad. It was so awkward and horrible. I still can’t really believe it happened, even though I totally understand why it did.

Then our superintendent came to the front of the room. We didn’t even realize he had arrived. He quickly and unceremoniously announced that with our principal’s resignation he would be moving the principal from the other middle school into her position at the start of the new school year, moving up that school’s VP into the principal position, and opening their VP slot for someone new.

The best part about all this? The principal at the other middle school was our vice-principal ten years ago, and he was not particularly well-liked by much of our staff. He left our school to be principal at one of our district’s elementary schools, and then moved to the other middle school. I heard he was not well-regarded by the staff at the elementary school, but that they consider him competent enough at the middle school. He’s been there for several years now and successfully ushered them through some intense construction projects, which will being on our campus next year.

At the end of the announcement there was complete silence for an interminable amount of time. You could hear an eye blink, and it just kept going and going and going. The superintendent made some joke about how he finally knew how to get our staff to stop talking. No one even laughed nervously at that.

When he, and our vice-principal, finally left the room, two male teachers had to whip their dicks out about it, one wanting to bad mouth our new principal and the other insisting he shouldn’t try to sully the waters with his negativity. One of them left in a huff, muttering under his breath.

It was all so incredibly stressful.

With that change in leadership the staff will no longer be going after the vice-principal. She has been passed over as principal of our school twice now so I’m sure she’ll be looking for something elsewhere anyway. I’d be surprised if she were here next fall.

So that is that. I never had any problems with this man as our vice-principal, though he did seem a bit ineffectual when he was here. It sounds like he’s had ample time to grow and improve over the last decade and I’m determined to feel positively about his return. Our staff has run out the last three principals and as many vice-principals in the last decade, and the devil you know is usually safer than the devil you don’t.

All this means I don’t feel as much pressure about finding a new job for next year, which is good. I think about whether or not I actually want to leave a lot these days. I worry about all the prep time that will be needed at a new job, and the stress of learning a new school’s procedures and getting acquainted with their staff. I worry I won’t do a good job of teaching higher level Spanish, that my language skills aren’t up to par, that the pressure from parents will be intense.

This summer I will be paying for my son’s spot at day care and I intend to use it, at least some of the time. I will put my daughter in at least 4 weeks of camp as well. I had big plans to do a final push at the house, to really make some hard choices about what to get rid of and solidify habits that will ensure our space doesn’t become cluttered on a daily basis. I wanted to start cooking regularly so that I could bolster my skills during a low stress time, in the hopes that I would be able to fall back on those newly minted skills during the higher stress time of the school year. I wanted to just take some time for myself, and rediscover where my interests lie.

If I get a new job I’ll spend all summer packing my old classroom, getting acquainted with the curriculum, prepping for the first months, and setting up my new classroom. I would definitely have the time to do all of that, which is a big plus, but I wouldn’t have time to do any of what I was originally planning, which is a big minus because I’ll need the uncluttered house and the low-grade cooking skills would really help next year, when I’ll have less time, and be more stressed, than I am now.

And intriguing things are happening at my school next year too. It is clear that the district and board assume our pilot is a formality and that we will adopt a partial block schedule with FLEX times next year. I would love to teach creative writing or some other class once or twice a week. I also recognize a need for me to reinforce my classroom management skills, which I’ve let lapse out of sheer exhaustion since my son was born. Classroom management has never been my strong suit, but I do believe I could do a much better job if I had the time to focus on it. Strengthening that skill would make me a much more effective teacher.

My Spanish skills themselves have been lapsing as well. I don’t talk to my kids in Spanish nearly as much as I used to, and I listen to English books on tape much more frequently than Spanish. I need to make Spanish a priority again, especially if I want to teach higher level classes.

It may seem obvious that I’m leaning more towards staying, and I do admit that’s my current inclination. But I’m not sure if I feel that way because I’m scared of change, or failure, or both. I still plan on applying for some high school positions, but I think I’m doing so with the hopes of NOT getting the jobs, so that I can tell myself that moving right now isn’t an option and I can stop wondering what I should do. The thought of getting offered a job, and actually having to make a choice, is terrifying. It’s so terrifying that I worry I won’t put my best foot forward in the application/interview process, that I’ll subconsciously sabotage myself to ensure I’m not faced with a choice.

My thoughts are so twisted around on this topic that I don’t feel like I can trust my own inclinations right now. I’m not sure if I think one thing because I actually think it, or I’m scared or I’m avoiding some other unidentified emotion. It’s exhausting, and I have so much going on right now, I can’t burn mental energy endless dancing around all the possible what ifs? I’m driving myself crazy.

Try, Try Again

I’m still stumbling around in the area of personal finance, totally unsure of what I should be doing. It seems supremely fucked up that at 35 I have no idea what my financial goals should look like. Is that something people are just inherently aware of?

I read blogs by people who have instituted year long shopping bans, and then EXTENDED them for another year because buying nothing has totally opened their eyes and changed their life. I think, as a complete personal finance fuck up, not buying anything for a significant amount of time would be a perfect way to start; it would help me figure out what prompts me to buy things and what feelings I’m trying to avoid when I buy things, and what I really, actually need and it will be AMAZING and LIFE CHANGING, just like it is for the people I read.

But then it’s never quite as easy for me to execute it as it seems to be for them, and there are all these other people whose lives are intricately woven into my own, and whose needs I am responsible for meeting, and then there are peripheral people who also have expectations that I can’t blatantly disregard, no matter how hard I try. And people mean well, but they also enable, and in the end my best intentions are always laid to waste. And no one seems to care, or be disappointed but me. And I wonder what I’m doing wrong, and why I have to take this journey alone.

Why is it so easy for the people whose blogs I read, and so hard for me? Is it because my husband is not on board, and I have kids who go to school with specific uniform requirements and clothes get lost and stained to the point of not being wearable and I need to replace those things right? Right!? And then I create rules but suddenly there are too many and I’m not even sure what “need” means anymore and I feel like I’m swimming against a powerful current and I there is nothing to grab hold of. Meanwhile the bloggers I read seem to be floating on a serene lake, with nothing but the open sky above them to contemplate.

And then I come here to process how hard it is and people say they can’t understand why it’s so hard, you just DON’T BUY THINGS and honestly, they buy less in a regular month than I buy in a month when I’m specifically trying not to spend, and then I feel like a complete and utter failure, like something is inherently wrong with me, and I will fail at this forever.

I don’t know how many times I have to fail at the shopping ban thing before I decide it’s just not right for me, at least not yet. I think I cling to it because it’s the easiest route, at least in terms of what I’m SUPPOSED to do. It’s much harder for me to decide what I should buy and what I shouldn’t, and what is worth spending money on and what’s a waste, than to just say, NOPE. NO BUYING. NADA. 

In the end, what it comes down to is, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing yet when it comes to money and a budget and it’s going to take some time to learn and I NEED TO BE OKAY WITH IT TAKING SOME TIME TO LEARN. I need to give myself (and my husband) a grace period.
Money is complicated. It is tangled up in all sorts of complicated shit like feelings of self-worth, habits and patterns adopted in childhood, coping mechanisms, societal norms and expectations… Talking about how you save it or spend it is totally taboo. It’s understandable that I don’t have any idea what I’m doing when it comes to money. The truth is, a lot of people don’t.

It can be hard to remember that when you read a lot of personal finance blogs, especially since most of them are written by people who do know what they are doing, and absolutely think you should be doing the same thing too.

This is hard for me. It may be easy for a lot of people but it’s hard for me. And that’s okay. A lot of people struggle with overspending and a lot of people aren’t making every purchase based on an overarching financial goal or even with some implicit or explicit priorities in mind. And it’s okay if I keep trying and failing, as long as I keep learning when I fail, and I keep trying again despite my missteps.

I just wish my husband and I could be on the same page, so that I don’t have to be the wet blanket when he wants to get burritos or try out the new Chinese place for take out, and I don’t have to be the person who vetos the suggested shopping trip with my daughter now that she FINALLY wants to wear real clothes after school and on the weekends, instead of nightgowns with pajamas under them.

Because I want burritos and Chinese food too! And I want to take my daughter shopping to get some glittery shirt with a mermaid AND a unicorn on it (oh the ecstasy!) But I’m TRYING NOT TO BUY SHIT GODDAMNIT AND IT’S REALLY FUCKING HARD WITHOUT YOU PUSHING FOR THIS SHIT TOO.

Fuck.

Self-compassion is helping. I swear it is. I couldn’t come here and write this post and even consider poking a little fun at myself for my foibles if it weren’t. But it’s still hard and I’m still so fucking impatient to just know what I’m doing already, and to know how to do it.

I noticed the mileage on our car hit 120K last week, and I mentioned to my husband that we need to start saving for a replacement vehicle. We (I, really) put 100K on it in 6 years, which means we have another 6-7 years before we’ll probably need to replace it (I’m assuming our Honda Accord will last to 250K miles, especially since it’s mostly highway driving). If we get something in $20K range again (we buy our cars slightly used), we need to save $3.5K a year to be ready to replace it. That is one very specific goal we can start saving for now.

As far as the rest of it, I’m still not sure how much we should be saving, let alone what we value enough to spend our money on. I’m starting to take note of how much we spend in a given category every year, especially the things that are obvious but overlooked when planning a monthly budget, like presents at Christmas or tickets to see my family in St. Louis every other year. We probably should be saving $500 a month for that kind of stuff, because when we need that money it’s a LOT of money. I also keep reminding myself that we have some built in savings happening with our annual tax refund and specifically waiting to be reimbursed from our medical and childcare flex spending accounts. Even if we can’t squirrel away much each month, we can budget those lump sums in productive ways.

My plan is to keep data collecting, and to be more mindful as I do it. I’m hoping that once I have actual numbers to present to my husband we can have an honest discussion about where our money is going and where we want it to go. With black and white numbers in front of him, he can’t deny what our habits are costing us. I think if he were walking this path with me, I’d be able to stick to it more consistently. It’s hard to make this journey alone.

Thank you all for cheering me on as I travel this crooked path to responsible personal finance.

Do you feel like you know what your doing when it comes to personal finance?

Retirement is Weird

{I got through Monday, and you know what? It wasn’t that bad! I actually did end up arriving late. Getting out of the house was not awful, but there was an overturned Mini-Cooper on the freeway which caused a substantial amount of traffic. I only ended up getting there three minutes late, but it was still nerve wracking. And yet I managed my anxiety really well, and got through my two FLEXes without any issues. I actually really liked the block schedule day. I hope we do something like this next year.

And now onto the actual post…}

Retirement is such a weird topic. There seem to be three camps, the people who don’t worry about it and assume everything will just work out, the people who have it all planned out and feel confident they’ll have enough money when the time comes, and the people who haven’t thought much about it and are in denial or totally clueless (or both!)

We all know where I fall in this camp. I’ve been surprised to see where others fall.

I’ve gotten a lot of this line when I mention my reservations about going to a private school because of how it will effect my pension with STRS: you have to do what makes you happy and you can’t stay at a job just because of your retirement. Which, on the one hand, I understand; I wouldn’t recommend someone be miserable in a job just to protect their retirement prospects. But if you’re not miserable, and you’re not sure another job would make you happier, it’s a hard decision to make.

My one friend is 50 and of the “it will work itself out” persuasion. She has never “been able” (as she describes it) to save for retirement. She says that her parents didn’t and she hasn’t and it’s been okay. Her mother is still happily working and her father died suddenly in a motorcycle accident about 10 years ago. I’m sure his death plays into her refusal to make retirement “a thing.”

Sometimes it feels impossible to reconcile the two prominent messages: life is too short not to do what you love (or at least what makes you happy), and financial responsibility comes above all else. I know some people are able to manage both simultaneously–maybe some day I will be able to as well–but right now they feel mutually exclusive. And if that is the case currently, which one do I choose?

I’m still planning on applying for the private school position, but I hope to have a decent idea of whether or not I actually want to get it before I do. I need to do a lot more research on what pulling out of STRS means at this point, and what it looks like if I pull out for a few years and then start vesting again. (For those of you who are curious about how California’s teacher retirement system works, this is a great summary.)

Blerg. Being an adult is sooooo overrated.

Which retirement camp do you fall into?

Bracing for Impact

The next four weeks are going to be intense. Really, really intense. It all starts tomorrow and I feel like I’m physically and psychologically bracing myself for impact.

The next two weeks are a perfect storm of obligations at work; we are trying out a new block schedule on Mondays and Tuesdays, during which I have to be at work at the normal 8:05am start time and also during which I’m teaching two brand-new-to-me 80 minute FLEX classes, one to 6th graders and one to 8th graders. That means I have to have two 80 minute lesson plans ready every Monday, in subjects I’ve never taught before. After teaching those classes I have lunch, and then I teach two 80 minute periods of my regular 6th grade Spanish classes. Tuesdays are a little better; I only have my regular 2nd, 4th and 6th periods (also 80 minutes each), and I also get an 80 minute prep period. On Mondays I have to teach all the way through, without a prep (I offered to do this because they allow me to come late every day even though I get paid full time, and once a month there is a 45 minute “advisory” period I don’t have to teach because of my special set up, which really isn’t equitable, so I took on the extra FLEX when they needed coverage, because it felt like the fair thing to do).

This also means that on Monday and Tuesday mornings I can’t take my daughter to school. I am very fortunate that her friend’s father is willing to pick her up on those days because without a second car it would be exceedingly difficult for my husband to get her to school by 7:50am, with my son ready to drop off right after that. All this means I have to extract myself right as the morning routine is ramping up, which I know will be really difficult. It also means I need to have everything ready to go the night before–my daughter’s lunch packed and ready, my coffee cup washed, my clothes out, my daughter’s clothes out, etc. It’s not so much having it all ready, it’s the anxiety that I’ve forgotten something, and that someone will have a meltdown right when I’m trying to duck out the door. To say I’m anxious about getting to work on time would be a grave understatement. (The only “stress” dream I have about work involves me being away from my classroom when class starts. Usually I am lost on the campus for some reason, unable to find my way to my students, who I know are milling about, wondering where I am.) Being late for school is a very big fear of mine.

As if all that weren’t enough, this Friday marks the end of the 2nd trimester, which means grades will be due late next week. I have A LOT of grading and inputting to do before then.

And of course there is all the drama going on. I’m hoping the new schedule will distract me from all that. (They will be deciding this week if they are entering a vote of no confidence toward our principal and vice-principal–if the superintendent promises that both administrators will be removed before next year they will hang back, but if he won’t offer a definitive timetable for that announcement we will be presenting a letter to the board, and the press!, in two weeks.)

Today I spent 7 hours in my classroom. The first 3.5 hours I planned for my FLEX periods and made all the copies I’ll need this week (of course the big, fast copier was out of toner so I had to make them on the super slow copier, of course!) The good news is I found two great resources and feel thoroughly prepared to fill those 160 FLEX minutes with meaningful material. I even have agendas written for all my classes, which I think will really help calm the kids, who I am sure are just as nervous about sitting through 80 minute classes as I am about teaching them.

The second 3.5 hours was spent grading a million papers. At least during that time I got to have TV shows playing in the background. I still have a lot more grading to do, but at least I know what my 6th graders have turned in so far, so I can remind them specifically about getting the rest of it in before Friday.

Just as things ease up at school in two weeks my husband will be headed off for SXSW. He’s gone every year since we’ve been together–this will be his 11th time attending the music festival. It used to be a leisure trip, but now he attends a conference for people from other cities who have a job similar to his own and he only has to take two of the days off. It’s not a purely work-related trip though: he pays his own air fare and accommodations, but gets his premium access badge paid for by the city of Austin because of his job with the city. Even if it hadn’t warped into a weird personal/work hybrid trip I would send him off with my blessing; I know how much he needs these five days away seeing music and just generally decompressing from the demands of his real life.

The last week of March I will be running on fumes, still gritting my teeth through the schedule pilot, but without the weight of 2nd trimester grades hanging over my head. My daughter has spring break that week, which means a different morning routine (her same friends will be taking her to zoo camp), plus I need to be at the zoo a lot earlier than normal to pick her and her friend up. And then, finally, the first week of April is my spring break, a bright beautiful light at the end of this long, dark tunnel. I can’t wait to have that week to rest, recharge, work on my house and get caught up at work.

I appreciate that I already recognize how hard the next month is going to be; I’ve started to think about what allowances I should give myself over the next four weeks to survive without incurring unnecessary guilt. I worked hard in February to bring down my spending (and I succeeding! My grocery bill was significantly lower than it was in January–I want to double check the numbers first but even if I’m missing a trip, I still saved more than I had hoped to), but in March I may have to give myself a little leeway. My workout regiment may have to be reduced as well, especially if the disrupted sleep patterns my kids have fallen into continue. It’s hard for me to allow myself to let these things slide after I’ve worked so hard to create habits and schedules that assure I work out, or spend less, but the amount of time I’ll need to put toward planning and grading is significant, and with my husband gone for five days, time will be tight.

I have a feeling self-compassion will come in handy over the next four weeks. I’m so glad I discovered it before this shit storm descended.

What does your March look like?

Work Implosion

Things are totally imploding at work right now.

It went downhill so fast I still can’t really wrap my head around it. We are piloting a new schedule this month; there has been a big push from the district office to find a way to incorporate FLEX time into our schedule so that students have opportunities to different areas of interest or different ways of learning. Our school is relatively small so scheduling has always been a challenge. Many of us teach multiple grade levels, so changing the schedule around, which usually ends up moving each grade around independently of the others, can be a very real challenge. We also share our campus with a K-8 charter school and both schools are filled past capacity right now so space and resources are very limited and tight. There are many reasons why a simple month long pilot of a new schedule is difficult and stressful.

People generally dislike change, and our staff is no different. The pilot was not presented well and it’s being implemented poorly. Communication is a mess, we don’t have enough time to generate ideas or problem solve, and people are generally pretty upset about how it’s all going down. The pilot schedule starts this coming Monday, and we all have an extra prep, with a set of unknown-to-us students, to deal with us come next week. Even for someone who prides herself on being flexible and go-with-the-flow, it’s stressful.

Tuesday we had an emergency staff meeting to deal with some pressing problems with the pilot launch (most importantly we are seven teachers short for the first FLEX block on Monday morning). Many people couldn’t come and others refused to go, boycotting it out of anger and frustration. The meeting was high stress, but we left with some possible solutions in place.

Wednesday morning I showed up in my colleague’s classroom to borrow some computers (like I do every day) and he dropped a bomb on me. Two teachers from our staff had been told they would not be asked back next year. This is their second year so they are not tenured; the union can’t really do anything to help them (though one of them was not reviewed on the correct timeline or in the manner outlined in our contract so that might be grounds on which to appeal the decision). It’s not that we don’t need those positions filled next year, in fact our district is hiring, and we were the only site where teachers were asked not to come back.

I honestly can’t think of a time when a teacher was not asked back at our school. Maybe once? I have a vague recollection of it happening, but in that instance the teacher was clearly struggling and no one questioned the decision much; even the teacher herself seemed relieved. This year it’s different. The teachers are well regarded by their colleagues and have received satisfactory reviews this year and last. The staff was confused. And upset.

By the time I got back to my classroom there was an email from our union rep, announcing an emergency CTA meeting that afternoon at 3pm.

I missed the meeting because I had another one scheduled at the district office, but I found out afterward (from calling colleagues that attended) that my staff decided to present a vote of no confidence toward our administration. Whether that vote would be toward both the principal (it’s her first year) and vice-principal (she’s been there three years) or just the principal had not yet been decided. Those who wanted to do so were asked to send a list of specific grievances to our grade level leads by the end of the week. There was even talk of making a surprise presentation of our compiled list to the board at their meeting next week.

The colleague I called to get the low down is a friend and generally very leveled headed. She does not participate in water-cooler venting or gossip and always wants what is best for the kids. She NEVER participates in workplace politics. I specifically called her because I expected she’d process what was said at the meeting without getting sucked into the emotional gratification of talking shit just to feel better. To my surprise, she was very enthusiastic about the plan to compile a list of complaints and present them to the superintendent and/or board. Then she informed me that she was thankful she put in a transfer to the other middle school in our district before the winter break (for personal reasons unrelated to this drama). She ended the conversation by adding that our union rep was advising people to “get out now.”

I have heard grumblings about our administration for a long time now, but I don’t eat in the staff room anymore and being the only foreign language teacher (who teachers three grade levels), I don’t have a subject team or a grade level team to touch base with, so I guess I didn’t realize how bad things had gotten. The idea of presenting a vote of no confidence to the district office and/or board or education makes me incredibly anxious. I don’t like the idea of making our grievances public for everyone to see, discuss and judge. I understand that people are frustrated and want to see results, but there has to be a better way.

Then again, maybe there’s not?

And if we do this, what will the rest of the year look like? If things are hostile between the administration and staff now, what will they be like after we throw them under the bus for the whole district to see? There are still four months left until summer break.

Meanwhile, a highly regarded (and insanely expensive) private high school that I could WALK TO will be posting a Spanish position for next year soon (a friend’s husband works there so he has the inside scoop). The pay would probably be comparable, but private school teachers don’t pay into the STRS retirement system, which would really mess up my retirement prospects. I also feel strongly about public schools–I plant to send my kids to public schools and I always intended to teach at them.

I know I was already thinking of leaving, and this is all just one more (GIANT) reason to seriously look for another job, but I didn’t want to feel desperate to find something, and with all that’s going on, I’m starting to.

It’s all just really upsetting. I’ve been at this school my entire professional life and watching it implode on itself is incredibly sad. It used to be such an amazing place to work, but a whole host of issues have worked to unravel it over the past decade. I hardly recognize what it has become, and I hate that I’ve been around to witness its demise.

I keep reminding myself that no matter how bad it gets, I can stay if I need to. I’ve been there long enough that I can keep my head down and teach my classes in relative isolation. I’m skilled enough at letting the disgruntled resentment of other teachers roll off my back. I don’t have to leave this year, even if I want to.

I guess I really need to polish up my resume and start practicing my interviewing skills (of which I have none). This whole finding a new job thing has taken on a new urgency.

The First Steps in a Journey of 1,000

I’m hoping to talk more about self-compassion soon, about what it looks and sounds like, and how one might actually practice it, if they were so inclined. I also hope to relay some of my experiences on this journey to self-compassion, in case they may be helpful to others who are curious about walking this path.

Thrice this weekend I had opportunities to practice self-compassion, and you know what? Not only were those moments not nearly as drawn out and wreaking of resentment, at the end of each I actually had some insightful realizations about thoroughly entrenched thought process.

First, when I was mentally adding up my grocery spending for the month, I started to realize it was going to be almost exactly the same as last month, even though I hoped to bring it down $100. Right as I started telling myself how dumb it was that I didn’t make any significant changes but still thought I was going to spend less (this is how I hide my self-criticism, by saying what I’m DOING is dumb, and not calling MYSELF dumb. Well played inner critic, well played), I stopped myself and changed tracks and said: This is really hard. Changing deeply ingrained habits is really hard. All people struggle with this, and it’s so easy to feel like I’m the only one who hasn’t been able to change the way I do something. But every struggles with this. And it’s really hard. And it sucks to feel like you are failing. But you are really trying, you just don’t know how to make this change.

It was that last sentence that struck me: I DON’T KNOW HOW TO SPEND LESS BUYING GROCERIES. I mean, sure I know what other people do to spend less, but I haven’t really sat down and thought about which of those strategies might work for me and my family with our specific strengths and weakness and our unique restrictions. I honestly had never considered that before, the fact that I didn’t have any plan to actually change the way I buy food. I just kept telling myself, This month I’m going to spend less on groceries, and then I just didn’t buy one or two things randomly and hoped to see a significant difference in spending. Of course what I’m spending hasn’t changed! I haven’t changed the way I buy groceries! It was a real a-ha moment for me.

Later I got into it with my husband, but I stopped myself, and instead of berating myself for losing it with him again, I hugged myself and recognized how hard being married is, and how hard it is with kids, and how I’m really trying but it’s fucking hard and everyone does shit in their marriages they regret and it’s okay that I made a mistake. And I cried, but I calmed down faster than I would have and I didn’t feel any resentment toward my husband. I thought about the things I normally do after a blow up, all the reasons I feel resentful and upset (like how I think of ways to make his life easier and offer them, but he never does that for me, he just comes home and sits on the couch while I race between bedrooms at bedtime until I can finally collapse on the bed at 9pm), and I thought: If I didn’t ask for what I needed he’d never offer it to me. I have to duck out of work early to make time to exercise and provide my own self-care because he never gives me the time. And then I thought: I’m lucky to be able to carve out those moments, to leave work early and run before I pick up the kids, and then shower while they are watching TV and dinner is cooking. And then I realized: it must be hard for him to carve out that time for himself, his work hours go later and he doesn’t have as much flexibility. And those hours on the couch are really all he has.

I can’t tell you what an incredible moment that was. It has been SO LONG since I saw his situation in a sympathetic light. Whether or not he feels like he can’t carve out time for himself or not, for me to have that thought was momentous. TRULY.

The third instance came shortly after when I was outside with my son in the backyard, which is completely overgrown with weeds. I was lamenting how everything I planted two years ago died after a few months (I couldn’t water them because of the drought, but they probably would have died anyway), and now the clover is back and the wild grass and both have taken over and I am a failure for letting it get that way and I will never be able to rip it all out. And then I looked out at it and my daughter was standing in the middle, blowing on a dandelion. I was about to call out to her not to blow on it because then a million more would be growing in the yard, but I stopped myself and said, Girl, you better not tell your daughter not to wish on that dandelion. They are going to grown regardless and shame of you for even thinking of telling her to stop. I was thinking that as I looked up and saw her, standing there, blowing with all her might as she made her wish. Suddenly I recognized how beautiful our yard is, with the green and the yellow flowers and the white blossoms, like a long forgotten garden, a secret treasure lost to anyone but us. Why would I want to pull up the clover and the grass? So we can sit in a landscape of brown dirt? Where is the beauty in that?

I sat there thinking that I’ve been annoyed at the overgrowth of clover for months, thinking only of how I didn’t plant it or want it there, ignoring the fact that nothing I did plant could grow anymore anyway, and that the clover and grass made it beautiful.

These were three really big moments for me, and I attribute them all to treating myself with compassion when I was feeling upset. I think when I’m kind to myself I’m better able to see what is actually happening, because I’m not busy judging or labeling any part of my experience.

Late Saturday night my husband told me that he wants us to see a marriage counselor. I fee like I should be happy, because it means he’s willing to work to improve our relationship. Instead I feel deeply sad, knowing that he’s as unhappy as I am.

I’ve spent a lot of today attempting to treat myself kindly, to let myself feel my sadness even when I don’t really understand why I’m feeling it. Surprisingly, when I’m nicer to myself, I find the space to be kinder to my husband as well, and that has made today a lot more pleasant than it would have been. I’m not 100% sure where this journey to self-compassion is taking me, but walking this path intrigues me.forgotten garden