?where you been at ?

I feel like I haven't had a weekend in four weeks, because I haven't had a weekend in four weeks.

Today I finished my training, which started in November, and while I sort of poo pooed it publicly, I was pretty emotional about it in the end.

Let's face it people that work with young children are not valued in our society, so to have the work of childcare directors and preschool principals recognized in this way: scholarship funded, graduate credits, and a big cake at the end, felt pretty good, despite my tough gal shell.

To have the feds say that your work with children matters, and to back it up with cash is a big deal for me. 

I spend a great deal of my time wondering how I will get childcare coverage for single welfare mothers and how I can build a new play structure, and is it possible to put an extra toilet in that broom closet? 

People don't give me cake very often.

I met some amazing, selfless and talented people.  I got to be away from my day to day routine and have colleagues,  I was able to sit in a room with 22 people that agree that the power of play makes better human beings. 

licehead

I am totally neurotic and germphobic and nervous and easily freaked out, so working with children might seem like an odd choice for me.

Today I had to deal with lice. 

It comes up once a year or so, and I never cope well.

I had to send people home, which means waiting around with the lice in a small room.  I have to remain calm and not make the licee feel bad. 

I think I did alright, I don't think anyone will be scarred for life

I have personally never had lice and I would like to keep it that way.

I always joke that if my children get lice we will have to burn the house down, since we have so much stuff, but really  I am terrified at the thought of it.  I realize it is a totally normal and not very harmful thing, but it totally skeezes me out and makes me sweat, and itch, just the thought of something crawling around on me laying eggs.

I felt oddly  empowered all day today.  I have had a series of pretty productive (some would say chaotic, I am choosing productive) work days the past few weeks.

I marveled  at  our welfare system at work, while waiting on hold for a case worker to tell me why they thought changing a mother in the "works" programs childcare from 106 hours a month to 18 hours month was a good way to keep the woman employed. 

The sweet man on the other end didn't have an answer for me, but he assured me that I had done my end of the paperwork correctly, so I suppose I should have felt better.  I didn't, but knowing I can add up some numbers, stamp and address an envelope correctly is one for my self esteem bank. 

I have been interviewing people for the past two weeks, and man oh man am I ever getting some impressive resumes! Must be a result of the shitty economy.  I have a UC Berkeley grad with a with a MA dying to work for $10 and hour.
I always ask for a handwritten, creative letter of interest and I have gotten some beauties.  One particularly creative fellow sent me a paper seed husk, with a mechanical leaf and shoot that you pull out to reveal his letter, as the inside of the seed. 
Amazing. 
All manner of collage, handmade paper and one gal sent me two high end granola bars!

I feel honored to spend time with so many talented young people, and happy to be able to hire five.

Maypole dance

Last night was the big Maypole shindig!
above is our gardener putting together the big flower wreath that goes on top of the Maypole, you can see the Cob house in the background.

Freyja was super excited. Her class baked bread for the event, and I made two cakes, so there was a lot of anticipation.

In the end she was not brave enough to do the dance without Mark, so for the second year, Mark danced the Maypole dance.

Maxwell was a great sport and wore a crown of flowers!


Here I am with my boss, and another colleague, setting up.

There were about 200 people, and the event turned out really well, the only glitch was some not very finger friendly food, but people wound up eating it all anyway- with their hands!

why is it, that it sometimes works?

What makes some days go smoothly, and others totally freaking suck?

I don't know.

If I could figure that out I would be so much happier.

Today was just a fine day.

Even the Bootiful Princess cooperated- and it is TUESDAY!
knock me over with a feather!

My admin meeting went well.

There were minimal interruptions while I talked on the phone.

One of the teachers brought me coffee with just the perfect amount of cream.

It was like a nearly perfect morning.

I got to come home, and tidy up ALONE for a while. Listen to loud music with inappropriate lyrics, and engage in some undignified dancing in the living room with only the cat as witness.

What I really want to know, is why do some days have to be so hard?

What is it, that creates the tipping point, where you finally keel over into crapitude?

Sorry that the blog has been so lack luster lately friends, I am working on a bunch of stuff that seems to eat away every creative braincell in my head, leaving me sitting here, staring at the screen like a drooling idiot, with little pithy and witty to say.

Tuesdays are tough

I take my youngest child to work with me on Tuesdays. It seems like such a nice, progressive thing to do, right?

Well, it makes me INSANE. It makes me not "act like a nice mommy", as I am instructed to act, by you know who.

So naturally, today was no different. It was hectic and stressful and I wonder why I continue on this path, this schedule?

It started with the removal of the sweater & socks.

It is January.
It is 27degrees outside.
This is an old drafty building, you must wear your sweater and socks.She then moved on to unbuttoning my dress, sticking her head under my sweater, and copping a feel of my breasts whenever she could get to them.

I get it.

Turning three and not being a baby is hard,

sharing your mom is hard.

You know what else is hard? having a broke ass unemployed angry mom.

Who will keep you in Cheerios then, huh?

Of course I didn't say all of that.

I did think it though.

I let her make her scene until she felt more secure and no longer needed to make a scene, but damn!

So when I was finally freed up to do some actual work I was all frazzled.

I hate being frazzled.

I like to be composed.
I like to be competent, reserved, and pulled together, not of the verge of tears, with my sweater bunched up to my boobs, and my dress buttoned up crooked, so I look like I have been making out behind the bleachers.

and right at the frazzledest part my husband of all people calls and has the nerve to say he loves me, and that all the stress in our lives shouldn't define us, and we are lucky to have each other.






Excuse me, can you hold please?
I say to him in my most composed voice.

OK!
That all sounds GREAT!
I totally AGREE!
I am sorry, I have some people in the office right now, can I get back to you ?

(I am surrounded by an audience, one with head lice & another person needing a document that I am clueless about, and that last one want to use my computer, please do not let head lice person sit in my fabric chair. Please. Please- is that unkind of me? ) ,

may I call you back later?