Stuff I Like This Week

• Baking: From My Home to Yours* - I got this as a graduation present, and have already made three recipes.
• Brown sugar! See above.
  
• These shorts, which make Dutch look like a demented pirate, in a good way.
• Summer Reading at the library.
• My new wallet. See, it's a GOOD thing, losing your crappy old wallet.

But what I really like this week is the daycare where Dutch and Skipper both go. This week was "Staff Appreciation Week" and I was reminded how much I DO appreciate the staff there. Dutch has been fortunate this year to have two teachers whom I think are really gifted. I have never really clicked with either of them, personally, but I have been really impressed with their teaching. They seem to truly enjoy the company of the kids, and they work with them in a way that amazes me. The kids are interested in paleontology? Field trip to the science museum to see the T Rex!** The kids are interested in building things? Set up a workshop corner and have the kids build a shrinking machine! The kids enjoy singing? Have karaoke sessions at lunch! Dutch is sobbing desperately because she forgot it was Costume Day and has no costume? No problem! Wrap a headband in cloth and tape on some ears, find a feather boa, and pin it to her shirt for a tail!

Skipper's teachers aren't so obviously super- great, but they are consistent and warm, and that's pretty darn great. Yesterday when I picked her up, we ran into one of her teachers in the hall, and Skipper ran to her, beaming, and embraced her knees. I don't need any more endorsement than that.

*Thanks, Big Cooks!
** I'm extra impressed because the thought of taking a gang of four and five-year-olds out in public (on public transportation, no less) makes my knees quiver. I met up with the class on a field trip in the fall, and I told the lead teacher I was amazed by her ability to cope with chaos. She looked at me in puzzlement. "This isn't chaotic," she said.

Hoods

I had my hooding ceremony yesterday.*



















Dutch attended, dressed as a cat. (I'm holding her tail in this picture.) Also, Cook was there, and my lovely aunt, uncle, cousin, and fetal first cousin once removed (or whatever), all of whom trekked in from various remote Oregon locations for the occasion. Skipper stayed at daycare, because we were pretty sure that she and the ceremony would both be better off without eachother.

Anyway, I'm officially done. I'm pretty happy about that, but also feeling a little adrift, and a lot tired. Last night, I went to bed at 9. Today, I have no homework.

Here's a conversation I had with Dutch last night.

Me: Honey, could you please stop talking for three minutes? I have a really bad headache, and I need a break.
Dutch: You have a really bad headache?
M: Yes.
D: It's really bad?
M: Yes.
(Pause while Dutch thinks this over and I suffer.)
D: How do you KNOW it's a really bad headache?
M: I can't believe you just asked me that. Now I have to beat you to death with a hammer and bury you in the back yard.**

I think the world of science is just waiting for this kid to grow up - relentless, skeptical, curious, RELENTLESS.

*Thankfully, only a few people actually got hooded (you have to get a PhD for that sort of individual service), so we were able to move through the ceremony fairly briskly.
**I didn't really say that. Not exactly.

You can call me Master.

I'm done! If I didn't fail that last final,* I have now fulfilled all my requirements to be a Master of Urban and Regional Planning. I am a MURP.**

So who wants to give me a job? You? No? How about you?

What are you waiting for! I'm a MURP!!!!



*I probably didn't. Though I did choose to spend yesterday evening not studying for the exam. I chose instead to bake cookies for today's potluck at Dutch's "graduation" ceremony. Priorities, you see. Priorities.

** This is not a degree that people usually put proudly at the end of their names, like PhD. I don't think it's because they're not proud of the degree, it's just because of the ignominy of the acronym.

Building competence

I love Dutch's daycare teachers. LOVE them. The kids are building a shrinking machine, and they're going to shrink the whole class to the size of mice.

Holy shit. I know I keep piling scary, depressing stuff on you,* but my buddy Ray dedicated his blog post today to the danger of kids being left in cars in the heat, and it linked to this article, which is rivetingly terrifying and sad. I couldn't read to the end of the article, because I started to feel like I was going to throw up (right at the note about the child who pulled all her hair out before she died), but it's probably a good article for everyone to read.

I think it seems timely to me because I've been thinking about being over-multi-tasked, and distracted by technology. I lost my wallet a month ago, the first time I've ever done that. Yesterday I forgot to go to an informational interview. I can see how it would be possible for me to forget Skipper in a car.** I think it's good for all of us to note that our distractions can have really terrible outcomes - running over a pedestrian when we're talking on the phone, leaving a kid in the car when we're rushing to the next task.

Also, in News of The Sad and Scary, there's a 7-year-old kid missing in Portland, triggering the usual sorts of discussions about stranger danger and how much supervision is appropriate for kids. Dutch is very interested in the story, so we've been talking a little about it, though I'm trying to delay the Big Discussion*** until after they find the kid, which I hope will be very soon.

Anyway, maybe this will cheer you up, as it did me.



*My worried, dedicated readers. I hope you're not all getting together to organize an intervention for me (I'm okay, really). But if you are, I want cake.
** Fortunately, I have no car. Also, Skipper doesn't sleep, and hates driving, so she's hard to forget in a car.
*** With Dutch, there's ALWAYS a Big Discussion.

I'm going on a diet.

I'm not going on a calorie diet.* I'm going on a internet diet. I haven't figured out the details, but it's been stewing in my mind for a little. I quit Facebook this weekend, which felt pretty good. Reading this article was uncomfortable because it sounded very familiar. I don't have much in the way of gadgets - compared to most people I know, I'm a crazy Luddite** - but I am very susceptible to that rush of adrenaline you get from checking your email, and tend to flip back and forth between windows (how much do I love my Google Reader? Far, far too much...) way too often for maximization of productivity.

There's a limit to how much I can give up without losing touch with professional and personal stuff that I'd prefer not to lose, but I can trim down a bit more, and I can certainly control my total time and my flipping-back-and-forth problem. Right?

I'll keep you posted on this self-improvement project, too!

Dutch graduates Thursday evening, and I graduate Friday morning. Pictures will be posted.



*Though that would be a good idea. One thing at a time.
** We have an ipod, an ancient stupidphone, a fancy but aging camera, a decent but aging desktop, and a netbook. Relatively restrained, I guess.

Do you have confidence in your medical provider? I'm concerned about mine.

It' s raining (a LOT - not the usual Portland drizzle, but a steady, heavy all-day kind of rain), and Skipper is sick with a fever and a corresponding case of The Crankies. Dutch is throwing tantrums. I have a two papers and one final due this week, and also two job applications to complete today.

So I am blogging!

The scene: Yesterday. Dutch has wheedled me into playing with her. (Cook and Skipper are asleep.)

Me: Hello, doctor.
DrDutch: Hello. How can I help you today?
M: Um... My elbow hurts, and the top of my head.
DrD: Oh. Let me listen to your heart.
M: Okay.
DrD: Hm. Well, I'm sorry to tell you this... I'm worried about you. I can't hear your heart.
M: Oh, no!
DrD: Yes, well, I will have to give you some medicine. Now, do you want some ointment, or do you want a bandage?
M: Ointment, please.
DrD: Are you sure? You have to put the ointment on five times a day. You could get a shot instead. It doesn't hurt at all.
M: Okay. Give me a shot.
(pause)
DrD: By the way, I don't know how to read.

Jeez. Enough already.

Enough with the whining. It's a BEAUTIFUL day,* and even though I had to spend the morning working, I got to be at a farmers' market, which was delightful. And then I came home and put a hairclip into Skipper's scanty bangs, and gave her strawberries and peas for snack.














She offered to help put the lens cap back on the camera.














She laughed at my witty jokes.














*It's been raining a LOT, which is surely contributing to my general dejectedness.

Hate spirals, part 2

One of the worst things about my scary job-seeking experience is that it's making me into a bad person. I've been aware for two years that the job market in Portland is tough, and getting tougher by the day. Knowing that is stressful, and I think it's changed me. I've never been a nice person, exactly, but now I'm a mean person.

I am jealous of EVERYBODY with a job that's even marginally decent. When I talk to people who are employed, especially in jobs with real benefits, I am always secretly thinking "So... what's so great about you? What do YOU do that's so special that you get to earn a paycheck and have vacations and health insurance? Hm? Show me your specialness!" And they don't. Okay, sometimes they do, but mostly they don't, because you have to be special (and/or well-connected) to get most kinds of jobs in Portland right now, and many people who were hired more than two years ago don't meet that ridiculously high standard. In my temporary, poorly-paid, un-benefited job, I work pretty often with somebody who has a good, solid, job about which he complains all the time, and I have to bite my tongue.

Also, I can't help but kick myself for having made bad choices. I should not have gone back to school - I've lost out on three years of wages and career progression, and I can't go back to my old career. If I had to go back to school, I should have gotten trained as a machinist. Now I find myself 33 years old, with two kids, one heading to school in a few short months and one happily settled into daycare after a long and painful adjustment period, and I have no stability whatsoever. I feel like a failure as an adult.

To recap: mean, judgmental, regretful, and jealous. Also tired. It's very tiring being mean and jealous and anxious.

I am trying to become a better person, but it's awfully hard. I'll keep you posted.

Pretty frayed. Not afraid, though.

I'm sorry I've been writing so many lame-o posts. I'm pretty tired. I graduate next week, and I have finals, and job applications, and ... you know... stuff.

This is a quote from Dutch's parent-teacher conference report from a few weeks ago: "We would like to help [Dutch] work on walking away from friends when she is finding it difficult to work together and letting go of problems that do not directly affect her."

They said lots of nice things about her, too, of course. I just thought that bit was funny because those are problems I've always had, too. I'm the sort of person who gets crazed with silent fury when people cut in line. Cook is always patting me on the shoulder trying to get me to let go of the many minor injustices of life.

It's probably good to know what silicosis is.

We have long had trouble getting Dutch to sleep. Once you get her to stop talking, she passes out, but that's easier said than done - if she's not allowed to talk to other people, she talks to herself. We have a new trick now, and it's working beautifully. We put on a CD in her room, and she lies quietly and listens to it, and usually falls asleep by the third or fourth track.

What is this magical music, you wonder? It's perfect. It's slow and soporific, but also dramatic. The fun bonus is that Dutch (while awake) occasionally bursts out with dramatic snippets of song: "and I feel like I'm DYING from MINING for GOLD!" or "Misguided angel, love you till I'm DEAD!!"