Restless

I feel restless. I feel like something has to happen, but I don't know what. Oil is back up over 97 dollars a barrel. How long can we live in McGill and continue to drive 40 miles a day? We already spend $300 a month in gas. I want a garden, but is it worth while to put one into a rental house that's too small for us and that I'd love to move out of this summer? If we move, then it will be yet another year without a garden. I can't feel settled here, because in the nine months we've lived here, we haven't been in a place that didn't feel temporary.

Kevin wants to move back to Vegas because he keeps getting traffic tickets here. After four or five speeding tickets, (he got them on the highway between Ely and McGill where the speed limit is 60 and when he comes home from work at 3 a.m. no one but cops is on the road), he stopped speeding. Last night he got a $107 ticket for making a right hand turn without a signal.

I do NOT want to move back to Vegas. But I might not mind living in Elko. Or even Logandale where my dad lives. I hate the idea of moving back to extreme heat, though. I just can't do it. Maybe Reno. Or some rural area that way.

I'm torn between wanting to move somewhere beautiful, temperate, green and lush--and wanting to stay nearish to my family, which has all chosen to live in the desert. Jill lives in Idaho, maybe that would work. Maybe I could ignore the fact that it's utterly homogeneous and has zero diversity. Maybe.

I miss my baby. She's visiting her grandparents. For twelve days. I'm going to drive two hours in a little bit here to drop Adrienne and Nick off with their dad for ten days. I feel like I'm supposed to be happy to have some kidless time, but I'm not. I'm going to miss them.

We have no money in the bank, way too much debt, and we have five people in 900 rented square feet. We need a plan. A good one. I'm afraid that 2008 is going to be the year when things really change, and we are not prepared. At the least we need some money, some emergency preparation, and less debt.

Happy Holidays

Yesterday was Kevin's birthday. We went and saw National Treasure 2. If they don't make a third movie and it doesn't tell what was on page 47, I'm going to be very upset. I can't stand cliff hangers. It feels like a gimmick. Make the first movie interesting enough and you can just end it and I'll be happy to see the next installment.

Happy Christmas Eve! I'm off to bake some bread and make my famous baked beans. I hope your holiday, however you celebrate it, is full of family and joy and good food.

Mmmmmmmmm Cookies!

I spent all day baking Chocolate Chip Walnut and Oatmeal White Chocolate Cranberry Nut cookies. And pumpkin bread. Oh yum. I make the best pumpkin bread ever. I mean that. Tomorrow I'm making Mint Cherry Shortbread Cookies that are dipped in white chocolate and so so good. And Coconut macaroons.

I made my grandma's Almond Rocca today too. It's my specialty. Adrienne wants orange peel candy, but I'm not sure I'll have the time or stamina to make it in time for Christmas. Kevin's birthday is tomorrow. We're going to dinner and to see the new National Treasure movie. We have one movie theater here, with one screen, and the movie sometimes doesn't change for two or three weeks. Lucky there's a good one for Kevin's birthday!

His folks are coming to town tomorrow and staying through the day after Christmas. They're taking the baby back to Vegas with them for a few days and Adrienne and Nick are going to visit their dad for their winter break.

That means I have ten days, no kids, no work. I'm going to miss them. I'm going to love being able to write with out anyone pulling on my sleeve. Ten days, ya'll. That's 240 hours.

Book Review: Teach Like Your Hair's on Fire: The Methods and Madness Inside Room 56

Teach Like Your Hair's on Fire: The Methods and Madness Inside Room 56 by Rafe Esquith

I bought this book because I'm in the midst of a sort of crisis of faith. I needed some evidence that there are teachers out there who can connect with children and make a difference. I needed some evidence that, while school is fundamentally a broken system, since nearly all American children find themselves there, a ray of hope exists.

I found it, at least partially, in this book. Rafe Esquith and the kids in room 56 do amazing things. They learn unabridged Shakespeare plays, travel around the country, make gorgeous art. They come back year after the year to the teacher who has inspired them to feed the homeless on Christmas Eve. (Que the violins.) And this teacher. He works double time, literally, making Room 56 magic.

So why did I only find it partially? Because some the wonderful things in Room 56
only happen for the kids who are motivated to make them happen. A kid who isn't into drama or Shakespeare, a kid who would rather not spend his time learning the guitar or doing whatever projects Esquith has designed, are out of luck. His Shakespeare program, for instance, according to the book happens outside of class hours to weed out the kids who don't want to do it. That's fine. But what about the things that they do want to do?

I really enjoyed the book. I read it straight through and decided to keep it for it's references to different projects and ideas. He has a really cool class project where the kids recreate this piece of art. Do I want to be him when I grow up? Maybe if I had a wife to raise my own kids! But I did come away with what I was looking for, a ray of hope.

Books

Well, I sold a bunch of books on Amazon meaning to make some extra money. But did you know that you can set it up so that instead of money you get an Amazon gift certificate? So guess what I've been getting instead of cash. BOOKS!

I'm not sure why I'm such a bookaholic. I just am. My favorite store on the planet is called Acres of Books, in Long Beach. When I was a little girl my dad used to let me go to downtown Long Beach to work with him. I'd spend a couple of hours doing his filing or whatever and then he'd give me $20 and send me to Acres of Books. It was two stories of used books, some of them going back to the stores opening in the 20s. The place was magic to me. I can still smell it. I can remember believing that somewhere in that place might be a book like in the Never Ending Story, or that book whose name I can't remember about the kids who find a book that only lets them read it one page at a time. Some sort of magical book that had been sitting there for fifty years waiting just for me.

The point is, I love books. And I've bought a BUNCH of them with my Amazon money. Some homeschooling books, some are just for me. I'd like to start a list of books that I read in 2008 with reviews. Hardly anyone is reading my site yet, so it's mostly just a list for me. I think I'll start with some that I've read in the past month or so.

What I'd really love to do is start an online book club for people who think like me. Books about the world and our country and the insane things that are going. Environmental issues, economic issues, educational issues. Anyone want to join me?

School

I just ordered my books for next semester. They have to be shipped and because I'm not Oprah, I can only afford to buy used books so I'm dependent on Amazon sellers shipping to me in a timely manner. So I order early, just in case.

I had a thought in the shower today. I want to start my own school. A sort of educational co-op where parents teach classes in subjects that interest them or that they are good at. So I might teach Spanish, history and writing. Someone else might teach math and biology. Someone else might teach guitar, auto shop, painting...whatever. Then our kids can sign up for the classes that interest them. It isn't necessary for the teacher to be an expert, just to have an interest and love of the subject. That'll be the had part to convince my prospective teachers of.

Charge $10 per class. So a one-time How To Make Cookies class would cost $10, but an ongoing Algebra class would cost $10 each time it met. And there could be free stuff, too. Like clubs. The $10 fee could be split between the school and the parent teaching the class. Or parents who agree to teach a class could receive free tuition for their own kids (I teach Spanish and Nick gets to learn how to change the oil in a car.)

If I charge a per-family monthly tuition, that would cover expenses and give me a salary. And maybe it would include a certain number of courses. Or maybe, $10 a class with a minimum number of classes necessary. I am not interested in a school where only the affluent can afford to send their children.

It's just a seed of an idea, but it excites me.

Enjoy

I've posted at my other blog.

Old Lang Sine, Revisited

I get this way this time of every year. I want a change, I want to resolve to do something outrageous, I want to revolutionize my life! I want to lose 100 pounds and write the Great American Novel and get rid of every speck of clutter in my house. And I have a whole YEAR ahead of me. I can do it!

This year I'm really trying for some more down-to-Earth resolutions that will have a more lasting and realistic impact on my life.

1. I want to read all of the books that Sharon at Casaubon's Book has listed in her last couple of posts.

2. I want to figure out how to be a really good teacher. It may not be my life's work, but I can't shake the idea that it might be after all. In one form or another.

3. I want to make some basic preparations this year, because I have this undercurrent of worry that 2008 is going to be the year when we can no longer pretend that everything is going to be okay.

4. I want to take better care of myself and my family. I'm talking about our health. My father-in-law has had a heart attack (when he was only in his 50s) and he has just found out that he's diabetic. My family has a strong history of cancer. My kids deserve a foundation of health.

5. I want to write the book that's been in my head for nearly two years. I need to stop being afraid of it. I'm actually not afraid of it. I'm afraid that I'll get it written and no one will care.

I'm starting with a list of three things I want to do every day in 2008 and three things I don't want to do at all in 2008.

To Do:

Exercise everyday
Write everyday
Get eight hours of sleep every night

Not To Do:

Eat red meat
Drink soda
Yell

If I can just do (or don't do) those six things, what sort of an impact will it have on my life? Will I be healthier? Will I finish my novel? Will my family be happier? God, I hope so.

Don't Tell Me....

If I'm not careful, enough people are going to tell me that I'm not cut out for teaching and I'm going to end up being a teacher just to prove them wrong.

There has to be away to be a successful sub. There just has to be, or no one would ever do it.

Old Lang Sine

I love making resolutions. I don't always (or usually) keep them, but they help me to organize my goals. Also, when I do keep them, it's a big deal for me. Like when I wrote a novel two years ago. Writing The End was an unbelievable natural high.

Here are some ideas I have for my 2008 Resolution List:

Be more aware of what I put in my mouth. (More iron and B and fresh juice, less processed crap)

Continue with my education. By the this time next year I'll have 82 credits!

Write. Just write.

End the year with some money in the bank and less money owed to creditors.

There you have it! What's yours?

Battle Lost, But Not The War

I just logged onto the computer program that manages my substitute jobs and notified them that I was sick and can't work at the middle school tomorrow.

I worked at the middle school today. It was shocking, and I don't shock easily. The kids were blatantly rude and loud and disruptive. The first period that I taught it took me fifteen minutes to take the roll for twenty or so students and I had to send SIX kids to the office. We finally managed to get through a third of the work the teacher left, when the kids came trouping back in saying the vice principal sent them back. Nice support there, Mrs. M.

I haven't ever experienced anything like that. No wonder Nick wasn't able to manage his behavior. All I could think, all day long, was thank God he isn't here anymore. What a nightmare.

Part of me wanted to go in tomorrow and show them that they can't beat me. But I keep remembering someone in that first period class asking if I was coming in for the science teacher today, and then a good half of the class cheering and all but rubbing their hands together sinisterly. Then the same thing happened in the next period. The last period was sixth grade and they have a different teacher. Funny thing is, that class was my reprieve. They are still young enough and close enough to elementary school to quiet down when the teacher raises her hand in the air. I flipped off the lights in the first period and they actually laughed at me.

So they win. This time.

P.S. After only three weeks as a sub, my mind if made up. I do NOT want to be a teacher.

Socially Speaking (or, Don't Kiss Ruby)

I've been thinking a lot lately about Nick and his incredibly poor social skills.

Let me start with an example. Nick doesn't know when enough is enough until it's directly in his face, loud and clear. Say he wants Ruby to give him a hug. She does. But instead of going on about his business, he grabs her, tickles her, kisses her, hugs her again, until she's screaming for him to leave her alone. It's like he can't figure out social boundaries, and so he's always pushing against them. Luckily Ruby adores her big brother and doesn't hold it again him. Imagine the problems he had in middle school, when he'd offer a kid a high five and then tickled, noogied and generally harassed the poor kid until he was told to go away. The saddest part is he doesn't get it. He doesn't understand how people view him or how annoyed people get when their personal space is violated.

There has to be a way to teach him social skills. I'm taking this Positive Behavior Seminar. The main point of it is to teach teachers and parents how to change bad behaviors. I'm wondering if it couldn't be tweaked to fit social skills training as well. The main gist is to pick one problem behavior and replace it with a more acceptable (not necessarily perfect behavior.)

So let's take something simple.

The Problem: Nick doesn't listen to Ruby when she says "no" when he asks for a hug or kiss from her. His sustaining consequence is an interaction with his baby sister.

The Perfect Solution: Nick asks Ruby for a kiss, she says "no" and he says "okay" and walks away. His sustaining consequence would be that he was happy to respect Ruby's wishes.

The Acceptable Solution: Nick asks Ruby for a kiss, she says "no" and he pats her on the head instead and walks away. He will still get the sustaining consequence of an interaction with Ruby, while still respecting her right to not want to kiss him.

According to the PBS rules, I need to come up with a "million dollar reward" for Nick for the first few times he uses the acceptable behavior rather than the problem behavior. A reward that's so huge that he can't wait to try the new behavior again to see if he gets the same reward. This is where I run into trouble. For one thing, Nick is nearly impossible to reward (or punish for that matter.) I can't make a big deal about praising him, because it immediately sets off a rebound round of bad behavior. ("Yea, Nick! I'm so proud of you, you rock!" "Yeah right." Followed by a crash and something breaking.) Punishment is also a problem, because first he doesn't take it and then once he does, he forgets all about it and it doesn't have the desired effect. ("Nick, that's it you're off the computer for the rest of the day." Imagine kicking, screaming and a general tantrum for about ten minutes here, followed by Nick forgetting that the computer ever existed.)

He doesn't do well with rewards or punishments, I think because they upset his flow and make him have to struggle to get it back. He does, however, want to know that when he does what he's supposed to someone notices.

So I'm hoping that Nick is old enough and bright enough, that just learning to get along better will be reward enough. With some luck, just a nod or some small notice of his using the acceptable behavior will be enough.

Here are some future social skills that I hope this plan will work on:

Doing something nice for someone without saying "don't I get a thank you?" afterward.

Saying "I'm sorry" properly and with sincerity.

Having a conversation with someone where he looks them in the eye, has a give and take, and doesn't interrupt to talk about something else or ask if the conversation is over yet.

Keeping a comfortable amount of personal space around himself and other people (instead of leaning against someone he's sitting next to, sitting too close, standing too close, etc.)

Autistic people have to learn social skills by rote. Did you know that language is only 7% verbal? That means that 93% is reading tone, facial cues and body language. Autistic people can't do that, so they are only receiving 7 % of the message when someone is interacting with them. Nick can't read Ruby's irritation when he's trying to make her kiss him, until she makes it very verbal and loud. He can't tell when he is annoying someone, so he has to learn by rote which behaviors are annoying and how to avoid them.

What if?

I've had a weird, very strange week. I'm shocked at how quickly substitute teaching has taught me that I definitely want to be a social worker.

I taught math, history and Spanish at the high school. I'm not sure what happened, but somehow I have ended up channeling all the worst teachers I ever had when I work at the high school. I'm mean. I won't let them make a noise. I send them to the vice-principal for voicing opinions. As a result, they hate me. Of course they do. I would hate me, too.

Then I went and taught third grade and elementary p.e. the second part of the week. Those kids adored me. They hugged me and told me I was the best teacher ever and begged me to come back. Whoo, what an ego rush!

What did I do different? I realized that I really was channeling every bad teacher every where, and I changed. I told the third graders that I hate a quiet classroom (which I do.) I let them work together and I let them talk about their work. I played games with them and generally was not as uptight as I was at the high school.

In short: I wasn't afraid of them.

Anyway. Why has this taught me that I don't want to be a regular classroom teacher? Because I could so easily see the progression from eager, curious learners in kindergarten and kids in the third grade who are already losing their ability to think independently. I actually feel sick to my stomach about sending Ruby to school. So I think I won't.

At home, Nick is studying Anne Frank and the Holocaust. I'm struggling to let go and let him do his own thing. It is so hard to resist the urge to micromanage his education and trust that he'll want to learn something if I'm not riding him every minute. I'm trying though.

I'm reading The Teenage Liberation Handbook by Grace Llewellyn right now and it's amazing. Here's a question. What would you have done if you could have dropped out of high school and done anything you wanted to do with those years? Me? I would have trained for the Olympics, I would have written a novel, I would have taken some college classes. I would have been happy and maybe not had an ulcer when I was still in school.

What about you?

Steaming

This pisses me off.

Why should people be rewarded for being greedy and getting into a house that was beyond their means? We can't even buy a house because so many people did that and now the housing market is so overblown. We could have gotten an ARM loan like the people this new policy will "help", but we were smart enough not to. I guess we should have, huh? Because apparently in this country greed and short-sightedness are rewarded by the president.

Ugh. There is nothing that gets under my skin more than the housing situation. I'm slow to anger, but I'm really frustrated by this. It's going to take decades to sort out the problems in the housing market, and years for the house prices to come back into line with incomes. Even in my tiny town, out in the sticks, housing prices are ridiculous.

We may never buy a house. Mostly because I can not make myself give someone an astronomical profit just for living in a house for three or four years. Nope. We'll wait. The prices will come down. Right now on realtor.com there are about 50 houses for sale in my area. This time last year there were less than 20. There are also a handful of houses for rent, and if you remember even this last summer we couldn't even find one. Yep. The correction will come.

The Mighty Pen

I went to another of the Positive Behavior Seminars that I've been attending for the past four months. Geez, these things really take it out of me. They're so emotional. They shouldn't be, but they are. You know that feeling after you've been crying, when you are just totally emotionally and physically drained and you really need a nap? That's how I feel every month. I don't cry (usually), but I feel like I have been.

I think the best thing to come out of all four sessions came out today. I was talking about how much Nick struggles against writing. He just shuts down at even the mention of writing his own name. And the guy said something like, "so stop making him write."

Hmm. I've been so indoctrinated to believe that Nick MUST write. When I say write, I mean penmenship, not producing prose. But guess what? After more than eight long LOOOOONG years of trying to get him to write, his writing has not improved at all since he learned to write when he was five. And because so much time is spent on trying to force him to physically write with a pen, the grammar and semantics that he could be learning in other ways has been overlooked. So, for now, no more writing. I'm going to look into a dictation program for him, and in the mean time he can type.

I'm working at the high school tomorrow. If I can manage to keep Friday free, I'm going to write. I miss it.

And the Stars Laughed...

I found this chart today. It's the 2007 USDA estimate of food costs. For my family, an adult woman, an adult man, a teenaged girl, a teenaged boy, and a three-year-old, the thrifty plan comes out to $656.90.

I've been trying all morning to figure out what we spend on food each month. I know it's astronomical. My best, conservative estimate for all food (including restaurants) is about $1000 a month.

We spend a lot of money on food that never gets eaten. Especially when we go out of town and I go a little nuts on the produce that doesn't get eaten quickly enough and ends up spoiling. We spend too much money on crap like soda and chips. If we could cut $300 off what we spend, that would go a long way toward paying off our debt and gaining some freedom.

I learned in my economics class this semester about how debt is a form of slavery. It's true. We are forced to work in order to service our debt. It's true that we made the decision to go into debt, so we have sold ourselves into slavery. What a sad, sad state. I want out.

There are only two ways to get rid of debt. Spend less. Earn more. Spend less. Earn more. One more time. Spend less. Earn more.

I've taken a job that pays more for essentially the same work. I figure I'll be bringing home about $500 more per month than I was as an aide. We'll have to pay for health care out of that amount. The best we're going to be able to manage is a high-deductible plan and then be incredibly careful.

We can spend less in a hundred ways. We have so many extras and a zillion minutes on our cell phones...we could cut the bill in half by just reducing to the minimum. If it were up to me, I'd cancel our satellite service. Without it we'd have no TV service at all. There isn't a chance I'll be able to convince the rest of my family, but there might be a way to reduce the amount we pay every month. For instance...we don't really need HBO. We have to keep high speed internet because I take my classes online, and Nick uses the computer for homeschool. We're so rural that without it, we have almost no service.

We spend about $300 a month on gasoline. That figure makes me feel a little sick. We spend a lot less for rent living in McGill than we would in Ely, so take at least $100 off that for the offset. Without moving, I don't see a way to reduce this much. Adrienne takes an early-morning music class before school starts, so she can't take the bus to school. Kevin and I both work in Ely. This summer we might have to look into moving back to Ely.

So I figure if we put our minds to it, we can cut our spending by $500 a month. Add to that the $500 extra I'm making and we should be able to get out of debt relatively soon.

Ah....I can almost hear the Universe laughing at my plans.

A Hodge Podge

I was called to a sub job in a kindergarten room. Good Lord, I am exhausted. That was the hardest job I've ever done. I realized today that I most definitely do not want to work in early education as a career. One day at a time as a sub is one thing, but day after day? No way.

I'm leaning more and more toward social work. Which means about nothing, since tomorrow I could lean the other way. My problem isn't deciding which one, it's giving the other one up.

In other news, I'm watching Biggest Loser. Every week I watch this show and I get this burst of inspiration which goes exactly no where. I have no time to work out. It' s seriously cold here in the mornings and in the evenings. Hell, it's seriously cold here 24/7 this time of year. I can't waste the money or time on a gym membership (I'd have to drive 20 minutes each way to the nearest on. Think of the oil!!)

Oh, the excuses. They are abundant.

I decided today that, instead of thinking about weighing 150 pounds, instead of thinking about losing more than half my body weight, I'm just going to focus on not weighing 300 pounds. That's all. Just 17 pounds. I can do that.

So here are some goals for this week (starting tomorrow. I swear! No excuses.)

1. Take my vitamins.

2. Give those Alli pills I bought a few months ago another try.

3. Focus on moving more. Just getting up and moving around. I'm not going to let all my excuses for not exercising stop me from at least moving around some.

The Boy Makes Chili

Friday was my last day as a teacher's aide. I already have three substitute jobs lined up, all at the high school. Monday I'm going in for the band teacher. I know next to nothing about music, but it should be fun anyway. I'll spend three periods at the middle school and one at the high school.

Tomorrow afternoon I have an IEP meeting for Nick at the middle school. I'll be withdrawing him officially. I talked to the principal on Friday and told him that we were going to homeschool. He asked why, but couldn't really muster any argument. I would be shocked to find out that anyone at the school wasn't relieved to see Nick go. He made them work.

Nick made a meal tonight for us. Chicken chili. It was delicious. Here's his recipe (he adapted it from a recipe he got off www.allrecipes.com)

Nick's Chicken Chili

1 pound boneless skinless chicken, cut into bites
2 14 ounce cans white beans, drained
1 can corn, drained
1 can carrots, drained
1 can whole tomatoes with juice
1 onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 T oil
1 T chili powder
2 t oregano
1 t cocoa powder
1 t cumin
1 t paprika
2 t salt
pinch red pepper flakes
pinch black pepper

Heat the oil in a pan and saute the onion and garlic until soft. Put them into your crockpot. Put the chicken in the pan and cook almost through, until golden brown. Put into your crockpot. Add the beans, corn and carrots. Add the tomatoes and juice, cutting up the tomatoes some if desired. Mix in the spices. Cook on high for three or four hours.

Let Freedom Ring

Ruby is finally feeling better. She had a fever for three days, but it went away with antibiotics, so it wasn't mono like the doctor thought at first it might be. She's chipper and full of energy now.

Adrienne tired out for her school's production of a radio play of It's a Wonderful Life. So it's an anxious wait for morning to see if she'll get a part.

We went to Las Vegas over the weekend and I'm officially glad I don't live there anymore. It's smelly. It's dirty. There are too many people, too many cars. I hate Wal-Mart with a passion. I do miss Target, but you can't have it all, right?

And the big news. I'm going to start homeschooling Nick right away. Last night I enrolled him in Clonlara, which is a homeschool program that's very free and open to interpretation. Not free-free of course. Oh no. But considerably less than a private school. And worth it. Just to see his face when I told him he didn't have to go to school anymore was worth every penny and more. Today he stayed home sick from school and I told him he could do a trial run of homeschooling. Here's what he did today:

1. Watched one show on Discovery Channel closely enough to discuss it with me when I got home. (He watched myth busters and was able to tell me that the myth about people dying if they are completely covered with paint is a plausibility, not a proven fact.)

2. Went out and collected five very different rocks and made a list of their characteristics.

3. Gathered the items he needs to make a machine that will: push a toy car at least four inches, break an empty egg shell, pop a balloon and blow out a candle.

4. Brainstormed a name for his school and designed a logo. So far he's considering the following two names: The Congress Middle School and Nick's Ninja Academy.

5. Designed a menu for this weekend. Chicken chili, salad, crackers, hot chocolate and ice cream. Tomorrow he'll find recipes and start building a shopping list.

I already feel a thousand times more relaxed. I am done sending him to public school. I never have to deal with it ever, ever again. Never. Inside, I'm doing the Mexican hat dance. Inside I'm collapsing with relief. The struggle is over.

This is my last week as a teacher's aide. I have a bunch of sick leave that I'll lose if I don't use it, so I'm taking tomorrow off since all of my kids have been sick. It's a half-day at school and I'll be glad not to have to do the tutoring thing for hours after school. I'm incredibly excited about being a substitute. I'm going to work full-time until my next semester starts to pay off the Clonlara tuition. On Thursday I have to go and get registered into the sub system so that I can take jobs.

I think I'm going to dis-enroll Nick from school tomorrow. Let freedom ring.

*sniff*

Ruby is sssssiiiiiicccccck. I mean really sick. Poor kid. Night before last she woke up at 2:30 a.m. crying like her heart was broken. She wouldn't let me touch her, and she was burning up. By the morning her fever had broken, but she was sick off and on all day. She didn't really have any symptoms except swollen glands in her neck and a fever, plus being real tired and very whiney and cry-y. Yesterday afternoon she asked for a band-babe and when I gave her one she put it on her neck. Poor girl has a sore throat. Anyway, last night she did the same crying in her sleep thing and this morning I took her to the doctor.

The culture for strep came back negative, which you would think is a good thing. Except that if it wasn't strep then the doctor thinks she might have mono. I Googled it and the main symptoms of mono are: fever, severe sore throat and fatigue. Those are also pretty close to the symptoms for a run-of-the-mill throat infection as well, so he prescribed antibiotics. It'll take two days for the mono culture to come back. Antibiotics don't do anything for mono.

We're supposed to go to Las Vegas tomorrow. The doctor said Ruby could travel, but she's still contagious so we should be careful. Children's Motrin is working really well for the pain and fever, but when it wears off (six hours on the dot) she's miserable. If she's no better tomorrow, we'll probably cancel. Poor chickie...keep her in your prayers, huh?

Happy Thanksgiving, and my favorite side dish recipe

Just in case I don't get the chance tomorrow, I wanted to take a minute to wish you all a very happy Thanksgiving!

We're eating at home tomorrow, then Kevin is going to work and the kids and I are going to Adrienne and Nick's grandparents house for the evening.

Here's our menu:

Turkey
Apple and pecan cornbread stuffing
Sweet potato casserole
Mashed potatoes and gravy
Roasted Brussel's sprouts
Gulliver's corn
Rolls

And my favorite. I make it every year, even though I'm the only one who eats it. Luckily it's pickled so it lasts a while in the fridge and it ages well.

Red Sauerkraut Salad

1/2 head of red cabbage, cored and julienned
1/2 onion chopped fine
1 jalapeno chopped fine
1 cup cider vinegar
1/2 cup sugar
generous pinch cinnamon
2 t. salt
1 t. horseradish
1 T. whole grain mustard
1/2 cup water
Blue cheese (the cheese, not the dressing)
Walnuts, chopped

Put everything in a heavy pot. Bring to a boil. Reduce to simmer, cover and cook for an hour. Let cool completely and then drain. Mix in walnuts and crumbled blue cheese to your liking. I like a lot of both!

It might sound weird, but I swear it's addictive! It's fabulous with left overs, too.

More about teaching

I had my last "strategies for substitute teaching" class yesterday afternoon. I signed up for this two-weekend, one-credit class before I knew that I was going to be a sub. Turned out to be excellent timing.

I'd like to share with you an example of why I'm having a hard time to committing to being a teacher. Today we got copies of two actual sub plans from two high school teachers in Elko. One of them had an entire paragraph about "if the student asks to go to the nurse, the bathroom, or the their locker the answer is NO" and "don't be afraid to be mean." The other wasn't much better, with explicit directions not to lend out pencils or pens (so I guess a kid who forgot just gets to sit there for almost two hours??) and against the ban against bathroom use.

I learned a lot of good information in that class about graphic organizers and how to engage students in learning. But for Jesus. The teacher's are talking about kids who are at least 14 and some 18 or even 19. They can't go to the bathroom? Why are teachers so obsessed with student's bodily functions?

I don't want to be that teacher. I promised myself yesterday that if I ever become a teacher, I will not ever deny a kid access to the damn bathroom.

I'm still reading that book by John Taylor Gatto. He has an essay in there where he talks about the difference between school and libraries. In libraries every one has equal access to resources, the librarian never dumbs anyone down or makes decisions about what they can and can't read certain books or learn certain things. Librarians make no judgment calls about a person or their abilities based on what they read. Libraries are completely free, equally to all people. Librarians are available and usually eager to help when asked, but don't force help on a person unsolicited. People of varying ages and abilities can all use the library at the same time with great success. Library's have bathrooms available with no restriction on them what so ever. As a result, even "bad" kids respect the library. You never hear about escalating library violence or library shootings. Vandalism in libraries is very rare.

One of the reasons Gatto points to, to explain the differences between school and library behavior, is that librarians dispense real books and schools dispense textbooks. He calls textbooks pre-thought thoughts. The questions in them have the adverse consequence of making sure that kids don't learn much more than what the questions are asking.

On another note, Adrienne found the website for Phillips Exeter Academy yesterday. Exeter is an exclusive, top-level boarding school in New Hampshire. And they offer free tuition and room and board to students who are accepted and have a family income of less than $75,000. She got excited and spent the whole afternoon talking about what it would be like to go to boarding school, and to take really hard classes that challenged her.

I told her she could apply after her sophomore year if she still wants to. She'll have to study over the next year because her PSAT scores will play a huge part. And also work on building a resume of extracurriculars and community service. But when she goes into the eleventh grade she'll be 17, less than six months younger than I was when I graduated from high school. If she wants to go to a school on the East Coast and can make it happen she'll be old enough to do it then.

There's a book called Guerrilla Learning by Amy Silver and Grace Llewellyn that talks about how important it is for families to not think of school as the kids only, or even main, source of learning. And it talks about giving kids freedom to do what is important to them. Something that is important to Adrienne is good teachers. Exeter teachers are passionate about their work because they are teaching what they love. Mathematicians teach math, scientists teach science. There will be no teachers at Exeter who are there because they couldn't find a job in the subject they were trained to teach. That's exciting.

Adrienne might not get into Exeter. The competition is stiff. But she's excited about the work that will go into trying.

It's Morning Now

I've been thinking about why Adrienne seems to be able to take what works for her about high school and leave the rest behind. I really believe it is because school isn't compulsory for her. She knows that if it ever stops working for her, she can leave. She changed classes five times in the first week of school, because she wasn't willing to settle for classes that didn't work for her. She's learning French, because she wants to and would not be persuaded to study Spanish. She's learning woodworking because it's a skill she wanted to have. She's learning the drums because she's willing to wake up early and go to school for an hour before the other kids and study it.

She's there, literally, because she wants to be. I would be surprised if any of her peers at this school can say the same thing.

I have talked to a ton of students whose opinion of school is "I hate it, it sucks, it's a waste of my time." They're marking time until they graduate or are old enough to drop out. They aren't there because they want to be, they're there because they're parents say they have to be.

Maybe if the compulsory part of education were dropped, more kids would want to be there. If they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they could leave if school ever really did become useless, or too miserable of an experience to deal with, then maybe they'd be more open minded about learning.

My goal with all my kids is to raise learners. Not regurgitators of information that's been doctored to be essentially American propaganda. I want my kids to be questioners. I want them to be critical thinkers to whom the Triple A Approach (Ask questions, Assess the data, Assert an opinion) is second nature. I don't want them to take anyone's word for things, but to have a desire to form their own informed opinions.

I want them to say screw you to someone who tries to tell them they can't take a piss because they don't have the right piece of paper in their pocket.

It's Midnight. I'm Taking Tomorrow Off.

I'm reading a book called A Different Kind of Teacher by John Taylor Gatto.

I'm basically a teacher at the high school. A teacher of one. I have to make lesson plans and design a curriculum for my student. I have to teach her every academic subject. We do not have a classroom teacher. They did promote one of the aides to be the teacher for the class, but she has only been at school two weeks this year due to surgery.

I've struggled to warm up to this new teacher. I realized today that a lot of that is jealousy. She gets to just be a teacher. I have to do four years of college first. She has a thirty-year-old degree in sociology. I have to choose education and study it. She isn't the low-man on the totem pole anymore. I am.

Working at the high school has been an eye-opening and exhausting experience. I have heard teachers say things about students that they should be ashamed of. I have had administration seemed shocked when I praised a student they consider a slaker. I have a student who is struggling to pass English because he can't connect with the Reader's Digest edition of Great Expectations, but he's reading a huge volume of Greek Mythology on his own time. English teachers have refused to try to help me get their students excited about writing short stories, because they don't believe their students are capable--because they aren't connecting with the Reader's Digest edition of Great Expectations.

Nick had a lunch detention on Tuesday. Because he had to pee. The kids have (I swear to you, this is what they're called) potty passes. They're supposed to carry them and give them to the teacher if they have to pee. That way the teacher doesn't have to write one out. (Or have a rubber chicken handy like my 12th grade English teacher did.) Nick never remembers to take his out of his homeroom class, which is his resource room. So he got to computer class on Monday and near the end he asked to go to the bathroom. The teacher said no, because Nick didn't have his pass.

Imagine, just for one minute, if you had to ask permission to pee. Imagine that you were told know, that you could hold it until your regular break time, now sit down and get back to work. How humiliating would that be? How demeaning? How quickly would you say, "screw you, I'll be right back?" What would you say to your spouse when you got home?

Nick left class, took a piss, came back and was ready to work. Instead of letting him, the teacher said he was going to write Nick up for insubordination. Nick got pissed off and when the bell rang thirty seconds later, pushed past another kid who was "lucky he didn't fall" (which means he didn't fall) on his way out the door. Hence the detention for "escalating violence."

Sigh. What am I supposed to do? Sit the kid down and give him a lecture about holding it if he has to go and doesn't have the prerequisite piece of paper in his pocket? Teach him how to take demeaning behavior from an adult with a smile, because he's 13? Tell him that those last ten minutes of computer class were more important than his bodily functions?

I think I'm going to home school Nick next year. I'm about 90 percent sure. I'm am so tired to trying to whittle my square-peg son to fit a round hole. I'm afraid of what I see already happening to him. He hides from learning, because his learning experiences hurt so much. He clearly isn't learning social skills in school. I'm afraid he won't ever be able to in a school setting. Three hundred kids and fifty adults is daunting for the most typical child, imagine dealing with that as an autistic kid.

He will never take someone else trying to set limitations on how often he's allowed to piss in 7 hours like a good boy.

I'm not sure I want him to.

I don't know what to do. Calling children our most precious resource sounds sort of silly. But think of it this way. I learned in my social work class that when my generation retires, there will only be 2.8 workers paying for our social security. Precious? Those kids turn into adults who will one day be running this country. We are already leaving them with an unmanageable mountain of debt and pollution. Can't we at least give them the creativity and initiative to figure out a way to fix those problems when they become theirs?

I don't want to be a smooth, oiled gear in the system churning out worker bees. I want to be a wrench in the machine. This is why I keep going back and forth between education and social work. I see so little of value in public education for so many kids.

It's funny, because I happened to give birth both to a kid who can only be dragged kicking and screaming through the school system, and one who thrives in that environment. Adrienne has somehow managed to find a way to bridge the gap between school and education (they are so not the same.) She's managed to hold on to her individuality, take everything she wants out of school and dump the rest. She's also an auditory learner. She learns best by listening to someone explain something to her and then doing it. She's naturally well-behaved.

I think I need to sleep. I almost feel high. Like I want to take on the world.

Yes. I really think I'm going to home school Nick next year. He deserves better than what he's getting. And not just because he's going to struggle hard with 80 minute classes.

All About Nick

I've had a few sort of epiphanies about Nick in the last couple of weeks. One is that, whatever his difficulties, he's basically a really good kid. The other day he was supposed to go to the after school program, but when he got there a kid who (for very very good reason) he doesn't trust was there, so he left. I got three immediate, frantic calls from three different people. The other teachers in my classroom were all "leave, you have to go find him!" I was utterly calm. I knew Nick wouldn't run off and wander the streets, and that Kevin would track him down in a few minutes. He'd either gone to his grandparents house, the library, or he was still at school somewhere. I was right, he was in the resource room hanging with his teacher.

It's so easy for me to blame myself and buy into the idea that he's the way he is because I've done something wrong as a parent. An almost unbearable amount of guilt goes along with being the parent of a difficult child. But I can trust him, and that's saying something. I've seen enough kids his age roaming the town, unsupervised and doing shit they know better than to do, to know that it's something to be proud of that Nick isn't one of them.

Something else I've realized is that I'm so concerned about what other people think about him, how they perceive him, that I'm forgetting to help him be just who he is. So he's not a typical kid. Who cares? And even if they do care, what good will it do? This is a hard one for me to face. It's hard to give up that wish that he were normal. Fact is, he's never going to blend. But with some help, he can learn how to be who he is and still live with the rest of us.

I'm about half done with a six-session, thirty-hour long ordeal called the Positive Behavior Seminar. I'm there officially as Nick's mom. I'm also there as a school district employee, and I'm really grateful for the opportunity. I'm gaining an exciting insight into human behavior.

I've actually managed myself very professionally through the first two sessions. At this third session I was an emotional train wreck. I broke down in hiccuping tears twice, and was generally irritated for a good portion of the afternoon.

I get to this place where every instinct I have as a mother tells me that the only way to protect my son is to stop sending him to school. Screw socialization. He's miserable. I'm sending him everyday into the trenches where he feels like he's at war. Why, oh why, is trying to force him into being able to socialize in a group of 300 snotty middle school nightmares so fucking important anyway? What if sending him there is actually impeding his socialization? What if it's making him worse?

That's the place I was in today.

After doing some data collecting I felt this "Ah-ha" moment that Oprah would have been proud of. For thirteen years I've been positive that what Nick is ultimately seeking with his behavior is attention. The data was perfectly, undeniably clear that I was wrong. That every teacher, every adult he's ever been in contact with, was wrong. Nick isn't seeking attention. He's seeking self-stimulation, and he's seeking to be left alone.

The woman running the seminar was talking to us (Team Nicholas!) about trying to figure out strategies for preempting the "staging events" (in Nick's case, transitions during class) that set off a particular behavior (grabbing his aide's arm when his aide tries to walk away from him.) The woman asked me why Nick was doing it and I said "because he's autistic." She said no. He's autistic, but ultimately he's trying to get something out of the behavior, autistic or not. He's trying to get his safety-net to stay near him.

I'm still struggling with this, because I keep thinking that I could go to a million seminars, a zillion doctors, and I just can't use some sort of strategy to wash the autism out of Nick. It doesn't work that way.

And then the woman said that all we're trying to do is help Nick get what he needs in a way that makes people want to give it to him.

Oh. Yeah. That makes so much sense. We aren't trying to get Nick not to need a safety-net person. We're trying to get him to ask for one in some way that doesn't involve grabbing at his safety net physically when he feels insecure.

Nick has never been in regular classrooms before. Not even in elementary school. He's never been expected to do the same work as his peers, to do homework, to be held to the same standard as everyone else. He's used to classrooms with less than ten kids, now he's in classrooms with 20 to 30. He's overwhelmed and literally latching on to his aide as a port in the storm. His aide is only five years older then him, young enough to relate to Nick on his level. He's a friend that Nick can trust won't be an enemy tomorrow. He's a friend who, because he's being paid, is always there. Having someone in authority stand up there and say that it was okay for him to need that was incredibly gratifying.

I still feel the fairly intense desire to just remove him from the incredible stress on our whole family of him going to school. I'm a little calmer about it right this minute. The program ends in January, about the time the semester at school ends. We'll see what happens then.

A Short Picture Story, Dedicated to Kevin Who Says I Never Put Pictures On My Blog

My Dad and his wife, Nancy are up visiting for the weekend.



Yesterday we took a lovely walk



and bike ride



in the fabulous downtown McGill, Nevada.



The end.

Oh God, My Head

My dad is coming to visit this weekend. I'm so excited! The only thing I miss about living in Las Vegas is being close to my family. I'm not all that far now, but trust me when I tell you that four hours of driving in the dead of the desert without even a curve in the road to break it up is mind-numbing work.

I'm excited to see his wife, Nancy, too. They'll be married a year this December. She's a special needs teacher and I'm looking forward to talking to her and trying to get a good grip on whether to choose teaching or social work as my focus at school.

I was talking to my best friend Carol last night about this very topic. She has a way of really focusing me and pointing out the obvious that I'm missing. Her first reaction was to say "be a social worker" without even thinking it over. I already am a social worker, she said. My need to help people, to help them find solutions or better ways to do something, is compulsive. She should know. Her kids go to a fabulous charter school because I went out and found one when Adrienne was miserable in sixth grade and then I spent an entire year convincing her to put her kids there too because I knew they'd love it. They do.

Then I told her that I'd have to do six months of internship for the Department of Children and Family Services, and she changed her mind. She knows that I can't handle confrontation. I actually get sick to my stomach thinking about having to confront people about their maltreatment of their children. When I think about knocking on a door, clipboard in hand, anxiety kicks up and I immediately decide that I REALLY want to be a teacher. There are other jobs for a social worker, of course. I can work as a school social worker, at a hospital or prison, in juvenile justice, as a counselor or therapist. But to get my degree I need to give six months to DCFS, and I'm not sure I can. Also, none of those jobs are available in my tiny town.

I have until this summer to decide. I need to take a biology class, and there are different requirements for each major. The next social work class is only offered in fall and the biology class is a prerequisite. That biology class won't count toward an education degree and I'll have to take a different one if I go that route. I can't apply to the teacher program without having already taken that biology class.

I'm fine with being a teacher right up until I think about not being able to take the next social work class. I want to.

I'm fine with being a social worker, right up until I think about how much I'd enjoy actually teaching. I want to.

I'm reading this book about alternative education settings, and how to set up a charter school. May I'll start my own school that focuses on the things that are red-taped out of public schools. Like teaching children to love learning. Like appreciating that children will love learning if they are free to choose what they learn. Like treating all children, even those with special needs, with respect.

I think what I might end up doing is taking the social-work biology class so that I can take the next social work class--but continuing with my degree in education. I have the time to pursue the education I want, instead of rushing through taking as few classes as possible. My goal is to graduate by the time Nick does, which gives me four years plus a semester.

Ah...to be so easily pleased

Ruby loves bandages. She calls them "band babes" and if she gets the teeniest, tinest scrape her face lights up, her hands go up in the air and she announces "oh goodness! Need a band babe!" She absolutely will not EVER allow ANYONE to open the band babe for her. She carefully, as though savoring every decadent second of band babe usage, opens it herself. If she happens to have gotten her hand on a Sponge Bob band babe, she'll squeal in delight, but a regular old flesh-colored is cause for celebration, too.

Currently she has a Sponge Bob band babe smack in the middle of her forehead. She scratched herself overnight and has a quarter-inch mark above her eyebrow. She's looking at herself in the mirror, making funny faces. And just now she turned to me and said, "I'm so cute, Mommy."

Yeah, band babe, you are.

Delicious, and Frugal, Too

I gave myself this book for my birthday. I was delighted to find a recipe inside that I ate often the summer I spent in Costa Rica.

I met Belerma in the first grade and we were inseparable through elementary and middle school. The summer that we were thirteen, Bele was going to visit her mother, who still lived in Costa Rica. Amazingly, when we asked my dad if I could go with her he said yes. I spent the whole summer there and it changed my life.

A staple food that I came to really love was Pintos Gallo, or Painted Rooster. A simple black beans and rice dish that Bele's mother made several times a week.

I found the recipe in The Extended Table, and even though it said it came from Nicaragua, I knew it was the same food I ate in Costa Rica. I made it my own and have been making it for my vegetarian daughter the last couple of weeks. Enjoy!

Pintos Gallo

One 15 ounce can black beans, drained and rinsed
One 15 ounce can corn, drained
One medium white onion, chopped
Two tablespoons olive or canola oil
One cup white rice
Two cups water
One cup prepared salsa

Prepare the rice in the water. (I've been using white rice because it's what I have, but I'm going to try brown rice soon.)

While the rice is steaming, heat the oil in a large pan and add the onions. Cook until the onions are soft and translucent. Add the beans and the corn and saute until the pan drys out a little. The beans will break down some and turn nice and soft. I usually season the beans and corn and onions with a little garlic, salt, pepper and chili powder.

When the rice is cooked, add to the pan with the beans. Combine throughly.

Minus the corn, this is traditional Pintos Gallos. We like to stir in a cup of salsa to give it a moister texture and a more "Spanish rice" taste.

Serve in bowls topped with shredded cheese, shredded cabbage and sour cream. Adrienne makes burritos out of hers, but I don't need the extra calories from the tortillas.

This dish reheats really well. Moisture from the salsa keeps the rice from drying out while stored in the fridge. It almost tastes better for lunch the next day.

On Misbehaving

I used to say that when my kids had the day off of school for teacher in-service day that it was actually "teacher party day."

Yeah. Not so much.

I had to sit through a hideously boring, demeaning seven hour long in service today. In case you didn't know this, and if the subject ever comes up for you, grown people do not like when someone counts them down (four, three, two, one) to silence like a bunch of first graders. It's ridiculous. Also, don't talk in the same sing-songy voice you used when you used to teach second grade if you now teach teachers. Your regular grown-up voice is just fine, thanks.

I left the meeting irritated, which isn't probably a good thing. I also left with even less faith that I'll be able to send Nick to the high school next year then I had when I came in. Blank stares when I brought up the fact that my resource students have to stop working to perform janitorial duty every day just before lunch. Pats on the shoulder when I discussed how disappointed I was in losing my job because my student is moving. A complete lack of understanding about the fact that our class HAS NO TEACHER. And the woman they've hired to be the teacher? She DOESN'T HAVE A DEGREE IN EDUCATION. How is it possible that I'm the only one that's bothered by that???

Oh yeah. I'm the only one with a special needs child about to finish up the eighth grade.

See. I was perfectly fine this morning. Now I'm all riled up.

At lunch I saw a bookmark with the title of Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's book, Well Behaved Women Seldom Make History. Ulrich also wrote the book A Midewife's Tale, the diary of Martha Ballard (a colonial midwife), which I read for my history class. For some reason I connected with that bookmark, even though I haven't read the book. I haven't stood up for my students regarding their forced labor because I don't want the principal to think I'm a trouble maker. That I'm not well-behaved.

I don't want to be well-behaved. I want to be the woman who stands up for what is right. I want to be a boat-rocking trouble maker, damn it!

So, while I've been thinking about Ulrich's slogan (a sentence she wrote in graduate school in the 70s), I realized the irony between my newfound desire to misbehave and my intended job as a school teacher. I want to be the kind of teacher that encourages students to not take things lying down. I do NOT want to be the kind of teacher that says "four, three, two, one" and flashes the lights just when the conversation is getting good.

Decisions

I spent the weekend participating in a Strategies for Substitute Teaching class. I also did some reading about Marva Collins.



Sometimes I think I'm like a raccoon who can't help but be hypnotized by shiny things. As soon as someone presents something to me in a way that connects, I want to do it. So now I'm sure I want to be a teacher. Tonight I have my social work class, during which I'll probably switch back to being just as sure that I want to be a social worker. And then sometime tonight, when I'm too tired to do anything about it, I'll remember that what I really want is to be a writer.

I've written a paper for my social work class about Jane Addams and the Hull House.



I would love to be Jane Addams when I grow up. She was the first woman to win the Nobel Peace Prize, which she was awarded for her work with the poor in Chicago. Hull House, where she lived and worked until she died at a ripe old age, was a settlement house in a poor, immigrant-filled Chicago neighborhood. In the late 1880s Jane and her friend Ellen Starr leased an old abandoned mansion built by Charles Hull. They lived there, along with a rotating selection of students and people in helping careers. Jane and Ellen wanted to share their love of art and literature with the poor and believed that everyone deserved culture. Hull House had a kindergarten, day care for working mothers, job training, adult school, an art gallery, a book bindery, the first Little Theater in America, a residence for single mothers and a zillion other resources. It was flexible and changing.

The Hull House still helps tens of thousands of Chicago people every year, even though the mansion is now a museum. Every town should have a Hull House. A place where the poor are empowered instead of kicked when they're down.

See, now I want to be a social worker again. I'm so glad I have some time to decide. I know that I feel a strong pull toward working with people in poverty. I feel almost no desire to work at an upscale school full of middle-class kids. I'd much rather work in a school that really needs dedicated teachers. When we lived in Las Vegas, my kids teachers almost never stayed at the school more than a year because they constantly were moving into rich new schools in swanky neighborhoods. I don't want to be that teacher.

I'm also about 80 percent sure that I do not want to work for DCFS as a social worker. I get anxiety just thinking about knocking on someone's door with the purpose of investigating child abuse or neglect. I know it's a vital, necessary job. I'm so glad I'm not the one who has to do it. I will be though, when I do my internship, so I suppose we'll find out if I'm cut out for it. Maybe I'll love it.

Even writing it down makes me tired

I'm pretty sure that when I graduate and get a "real job," it's going to feel like a vacation.

Here was my day today:

Wake up at 5:45 a.m. Spend half an hour trying to become human. Get Adrienne up at 6:15, then spend the next 45 minutes running around like maniacs getting ready for school. Nick stayed home today.

Head over to the sheriff's office to be fingerprinted for my substitute license.

Get to school by 8 a.m. Tell the vice principal that I have to leave a little early to get Nick to the doctor for his sports physical. Take my student to her work study for an hour, come back and teach second hour. Talk to Kevin during lunch and realize that he can't come bring Nick to town for his appointment because the Dish Network dude is coming this afternoon. He's supposed to be there by noon, but has to come from Vegas and has called to say it'll be three before he gets to us. Tell my vice-principal that I have to leave earlier than I thought, all the while repressing some serious anxiety about sitting in her office in the first place. Since I'm there anyway, give my December 1 notice. (I'm afraid my student might not actually move, and I'm not spending $250 for a license that I'm not going to use.) Teach third period.

Leave school at 2:10 and drive home to get Nick. Kiss my baby and my husband, then head back to town. Spend at least 30 minutes getting Nick signed in, cursing under my breath about inter mural basketball and how is that different from PE anyway...mumble mumble grumble.

Meet Kevin in the parking lot of the clinic after he's picked up Adrienne who has had to wait for half an hour at school and is grumpy as all hell. Seems the boy she likes, whose mother is the school secretary, wasn't hanging around this afternoon. Boo. Kevin takes all three kids home.

Run like hell to my class at the college. Get there fifteen minutes late. I'm the only Ely student, the class is broadcast via internet. So I'm coming in late on live TV in classrooms in Elko and Pahrump and Winnamucca. Apologize profusely. Enjoy the class, it's one of the best I've taken (it's a short, four session course on substitute teaching strategies.)

Drive home, talking on the phone to Kevin most of the way about how Nick isn't cooperating with him and how Adrienne is still pissy and the baby is screaming in the background about something or the other.

Get home at about 7, make dinner. Talk to my dad about him and his wife coming to visit for Veteran's Day (his wife is a teacher.) Make arrangements for Adrienne to stay in town tomorrow morning, because her drama rehearsal runs from 10 a.m. to noon and my class goes from 10 to 2.

Eat dinner and get Ruby to sleep. Promise myself to spend all day Sunday with her. Swear to take her to the park if it's warm enough. Finally relax and watch Mr. Holland's Opus with Adrienne, which makes me bawl like a baby and decide I DEFINITELY want to be a teacher. (Until tomorrow, when something is likely to make me decide to be a social worker.)

I wanted to write today. I wanted to exercise. There just aren't enough hours. Never mind the beating myself up over my daily contribution to Global Warming and the fact that I need to read a novel for my history class by Sunday and I haven't even cracked the book.

I guess I can't do much about being busy. But I can write. Right now.

Spark People

I came within inches of spending $52 to sign-up Jillian Michaels' online weight-loss thingy tonight. Honestly, I was searching the house for the credit card.

And then I decided to Google for comments or whatever, to see if I could find someone who had used the service. And I kept running across this site. I spent a little time trying to figure it out and setting up a page. Turns out I love it AND it's totally free. One thing I especially love is that it has a journal/blog attached to it. I want to keep this blog from turning into a weight-loss (or lack thereof) whinefest. I have more important things to talk about, I think (I hope.) So I'm linking my Spark People page over to the left.

Yes, by the way. I am brave. My weight (scary as it is) is posted over there. My struggles and whining will be posted on the blog. Seems I don't learn or do anything much without writing it down. It's just the way I roll.

P.S. If you happen to click on my food log--I ate the Ben and Jerry's BEFORE I signed up. Also...notice that I did CRUNCHES today. Oh yeah.

P.P.S. Just for posterity...here is me at my highest weight. With my incredibly gorgeous brother and sister.

The Math Queen, She Has Arrived

I took my math placement test at the college yesterday afternoon.

I tested into Math 096. That's Intermediate Algebra, thank you very much. To you, that might not seem like a big thing. To me, it's amazing. Two months ago I tested into Math 091, which meant I would have to take three math classes before I could take the math class I need to graduate. Testing into Math 096 means I only need that class, and then I can take Math 120, which is the class I need. I am SO excited.

I also talked to the--I don't know her title. Adviser? Anyway, I talked to her about my major. I'm studying Social Work, but I keep feeling a pull toward special education. There is this certificate my school offers for people who have a bachelor's degree already and want to teach. There's about 30 credits, plus student teaching. I need 35 elective credits for my BSW, so I asked if I could use 30 of them for the required classes for that certificate. Turns out I can. The school doesn't have a set program for getting a special education certificate, but she's going to look into that for me. If the answer is yes, then I can take the 30 credits with my BSW, and after I graduate I'll only need to do my student teaching.

Did you all have a wonderful Halloween? We took the kids out to their grandparents house. Boy is trick-or-treating ever a different experience in a small town. Everyone knows everyone, there were zillions of kids out, every house was lit up. Ruby was dressed like a little dinosaur. I'll try to post pictures tonight.

Good Morning, Mrs. Alburger

I went yesterday to the school district office and picked up the packet for being licensed as a substitute teacher. I'm sort of excited, to tell the truth. I can work less, if I want to, because it's my choice whether or not to take an assignment. I won't have as much responsibility, since I'll only be there for a day. I'll get to mix it up and work at all four schools in my district.

Also, if it comes down to it, I'll be able to home school Nick next year. And I'm afraid it might come down to it. The high school is so innovative when it comes to 99 percent of the students. But for the one percent who have special needs they really drop the ball. There is no teacher. They've hired a long-time aide to be the teacher, but come on. There's a reason that getting a special education endorsement requires a full year of education. This woman has a degree. In sociology. And the scariest thing is that I seem to be the only person who has a problem with this. None of the other aides are the tiniest bit concerned. I guess because they're kids aren't going to be taught without a real teacher.

The school has this weird policy of making the special needs kids stop work at the end of the second hour to help set up the lunch room. Who are they helping? The kids who are on in-school suspension. Which ties the job to a punishment. I actually feel a little sick every day when I take the kids out there to do the work. It's just so WRONG. They don't disrupt any other class to make the kids do physical labor. When I've mentioned it, I've been told that the resource kids need to learn responsibility. Because, you know, all the other 500-plus kids at the school are shining examples of responsibility.

Yeah, I think I need the option of homeschooling Nick. Hopefully next year they'll have a teacher. Definitely next year I'll be making a stink about the lunch room thing. But just in case, if I'm working as a substitute, my (and Nick's) options will be open.

Casey Junior

One of Ely's MANY (tongue firmly in cheek) claims to fame is the Ghost Train. At the tail end of the summer we took the kids in the summer youth program I was the director of to ride the train and my kids got to come along (Adrienne and Nick were too old to join the program and Ruby was too young.)




The train is a really awesome part of living out here. Twice a day you can hear the whistles blowing and the train making it's way slowly (SLOWLY) down the track. The steam engine goes from Ely to Ruth and the diesel engine goes from Ely to McGill. We saw a little herd of Antelope in one the bottoms that you can't see from the highway, that was real cool.

Every Christmas the steam engine gets dressed up like the Polar Express. I can hardly wait!

Have you missed me?

It's been a really long time since I've posted a blog. I decided to just have this blog and give up my previous blog for good. That blog was so focused on my weight that I didn't feel right posting about anything else.

My life is crazy, but in a good way. I'm going to school full-time, studying Social Work. I love it. I'm working full-time, too, at the local high school. I don't love that quite as much. The work is good, but I would rather do less of it. I found out last week that my student is moving to Phoenix, so it might not be much of a problem for much longer.

Adrienne has jumped headfirst into the high school experience. Drama club, playing drums in the Jazz Band, singing in the choir, learning French, writing, learning, boys. It's practically a full-time job just getting her around to her bazillion things.

Nick has been totally integrated at school this year (regular classes instead of spending all day in a self-contained classroom.) I didn't expect it to work, and I've been incredibly pleasantly surprised. He's passing all his classes, doing the same work as everyone else, and he's holding it together emotionally and behaviorally for the most part.

Ruby will be three in six weeks. Amazing. She's talking up a storm, as opinionated as her mama, and absolutely fearless.

Kevin is still Kevin--working hard. Still would like things to always stay the same, forcing us to find a balance between my need for change and his need to never ever ever change ever.

That should catch you up on us all!

Here's somethings I'm sure I'll be writing about in the next few weeks:

I'm advising the school Writer's Club, which I'm totally in love with. I have half-a-dozen kids all jazzed up about Nanowrimo. They've made their goals and we meet every week to discuss their stories. They have so many great ideas, I'm feeling inspired. I've mapped out my own Nano story. Because, you know, I don't have enough on my plate. Luckily we have a lot of time off of school in November...a whole week for Thanksgiving, plus an in service day in there.


I submitted a story to Amazon's Breakthrough Novel contest. It's the novel I wrote for Nanowrimo in 2005. Keep your fingers crossed for me, eh? And send me some good publishing mojo.

I also submitted a short story to Ellora's Cave. It made it past the first editor, and now I'm waiting to hear from the acquisitions editor. More mojo, please?

The Alburger family is attempting to get a little greener, a little simpler, a little less consumption-driven. I'm certain that I'll feel moved to post about my thoughts on this topic. Sometimes they are the only thoughts I have.

And pictures. My goal is to post a bunch of them.

One more thing...have some cake today. It's my birthday! I'm officially closer to 40 than to 35.

A Miracle

We finally FINALLY found a suitable place to rent. Twenty-four people applied for it, and the owner picked us. It felt like winning the lottery. Seriously.

It's a duplex in McGill with about 1000 square feet. Maybe that doesn't sound big enough for five people, two cats and a dog. Believe me, after living for three months in 400 square feet of hell, 1000 lovely, shady square feet with a nice big yard feels like heaven. It's furnished, with two bedrooms (but the living room is huge and we can fit the baby in there.) And the rent is almost exactly half what we were paying in Vegas, which is nice since that's why we moved.

I'm on a bit of a rampage right now about getting out of debt. We have to just buckle down and do it, or we'll never be able to buy a house. So we'll do that while we sit back in our little duplex and wait out the market. It feels like total freedom to not feel pressured into buying something--ANYTHING.

Sad--and then happy

We didn't get the house after all.

I'm sad, and a little angry. Mostly at the world at large, and mostly because we missed the boat when it comes to housing. Even two years ago we could have bought a great house with land in our little rural town for less than $100,000. Now we're going end up paying significantly more, and we can't even afford the land at all.

I'm also a little relieved, because deep down I think we were getting in over our heads. I love that house. Really love it. But a $1300 month house payment would have been a struggle.

We looked at a different house on Friday. It has almost zero land (5000 square feet), but the house itself is perfect for us. It's also two doors down from our towns community garden. We can get a 10X12 plot, and if we go for this house I'm going to ask my parents to get one too and let me plant on it. 20 X 24 can house a ton of veggies. This little garden is new, and I've noticed that some people have planted fruit trees near their plots.

There is also a city corrals about two miles away. For $50 a year I can lease a corral for chickens, goats, whatever. The trick is that they're all leased already, and improved upon. You have to buy the improvements from someone who is ready to sell their corral. And at only $50 a year maintance, people hold on to them with the idea that they might want to get a horse or something someday. There are some empty ones though, so I'm thinking maybe a newspaper ad once we know where we're going to land.

What really gets to me is that even fixer uppers are priced so freaking high. The owners want to get the price for the potential of the house, without getting it up to that potential. That sucks.

On a more positive note: I got an email from a publisher today about a short story I submitted--it's being passed on to the second level of aquisition. Woo!

Gas Worries

Over at www.casaubonsbook.blogspot.com, there's a lot of discussion about cutting back on consumption by 90 percent. I'm too tired tonight to write about the rules and the whys, but if you go look at her blog, you'll find it.

I've thought a lot about participating. I'm gone through every excuse from "my husband won't like it" to "my kids will hate it" to "but I live 100 miles from the nearest Wal-Mart, I can't only use 50 gallons of a gas a YEAR!" But in the end, I've realized that I can't let my life be ruled by excuses.

I don't know if I'll be perfect. I don't know if I'll even come close to succeeding. But I want to be able to relax when I'm an old woman, knowing that I didn't add to the problem of how my grandchildren will eat and breathe. And that I did what I could to make it better.

I'm too tired, like I said, to go into my plans right now. Tomorrow.

I do know that according to the rules, we get 50 gallons of gas per person per year...or 250 gallons for my family of five. That's 20 gallons, or roughly one monthly tank in our minivan or one and a half in our Saturn that we can't all fit in.

Our mini-van gets about 20 miles to the gallon, and can go about 400 miles before running out of gas (don't ask how I know that!) My job requires me to drive 11 miles one way twice a week during the summer, and everyday during the school year. Twenty gallons of gas a month means that we'll be cutting it super close. Driving 22 miles a day, five days a week is 110 miles a week--or forty over our total monthly allowance, even without going to the grocery store or anything else.

Kevin can walk to work, once we move. The kids walk to school. No buses or other forms of public transportation. The grocery store is two miles away, walkable--although the two miles are on Highway 6, fifty miles per hour and no shoulder.

I don't go to school for two weeks in December, one week in the spring, all federal holidays (I'm pretty sure there are eight) and all summer. I have 180 days of school, I think...so that's 3960 miles just going back and forth to work. Or 198 of our 250.

I'm afraid that the answer is to try to get transfered to a school near my house, instead of driving 22 miles a day to work at the school that I love. And to give up the three hour drives every month to the bigger city with it's plentiful shopping.

My brain hurts now! I'll think about this some more tomorrow.

Night Drive

It was about 85 degrees last night, and probably ten degrees hotter and STUFFY in our tiny apartment. So after dinner, Kevin and Ruby and I (the big kids are in Vegas with their dad this week) went on a drive.

There is a scenic loop here that goes through the Humbolt National forest. We'd never been on it before, so it seemed like a good idea. And it was. Absolutely stunning. There is a big stand of White Pines that you drive through, and I swear it's like a fairy tale. Huge, tall white trunks. Some of you are probably from a place that has more than sagebrush as the local vegetation, but seeing big tall trees is rare for us out here.

At one point we came around a corner and saw a SUV parked at the start of a sideroad leading up to a campground. Next to it, maybe two feet away from it, was the most perfect, huge buck. Seriously, like Bambi's daddy. It was just standing there and for a minute I thought it must be a statue marking the entrance to the campground. Then it moved a few feet from us, and just stopped and stared. It had gigantic antlers and I am sick that I didn't bring my camera. Just sick.

We also saw a baby deer and some rabbits and chipmunks. I saw a hawk, too. And many, many cows. Right on the side of the road, like a cow-country safari. Two baby cows ran along side us for a little bit.

I really do love living in Nevada. I was born a California girl, but I love the mountains and the wide sky. I love the fresh air and the cool breeze as soon as the sun goes down. I love that there are unadulterated places here. I imagined last night what it would be like to be a pioneer coming over a pass and finding those mountains and valleys. The road we drove was a dirt road with grooves, like a wagon train might make. Amazing.

Wait...wait...wait some more

We were finally able to get our credit score where it needed to be to finalize our loan. We should be able to move in to the house in a couple of weeks.

I guess the sellers are balking about going past the June 15th closing date. No chance our loan will close by then. If they back out, I'm not going to cry. I'm going to move on. We already have the loan in place, it'll just be a matter of choosing a different house.

I found this single-wide mobile home on five acres for less than half what we offered on our house. It's totally unimproved land--five acres of sage brush, except for the trailer and the area immediately around it. The payment would be so low, however, that we could easily afford to manage the land.

If the sellers won't sign off on letting us have more time, we are going to look at that mobile home. It's tiny--really too small, although it does have three bedrooms. And is twice the size of our current apartment. The one thing that's holding me back from backing out the house myself and moving forward on the other property is how far it is from town. It'll be about a ten mile drive for Kevin to get to work, rather than a half mile walk. The kids will have to be bussed to school. On the other hand, it's much closer to my job, maybe two miles instead of twelve.

When PO hits, I don't want to be in the middle of nowhere. That's why I wanted the house we're buying--it's walking distance to everything but my job (and my job is transferable to a school within walking distance.) And it has enough land for a decent garden. The land is already fertile.

The waiting game is killing me!

Stuck

Our loan is stalled for a couple of weeks. I've decided I'm not going to be upset. If the loan doesn't happen, we'll get our ernest money back, and we'll just--wait. I have to trust that things happen for a reason.

If it does happen, then we'll move in and I'll be happy. I can't let myself get too caught up in what the housing market is doing. We aren't buying our house as an investment. We plan to live in it for a long time. It's scary to think about being stuck upside down in a mortgage, but at least it is a manageable mortgage that we can easily afford.

We both have jobs that should last when TSHTF. The house is large enough to rent part of it out if we have to.

I feel like I'm trying to talk myself into something. I hate feeling so up in the air and unsettled.

I'm working on a short story for an e-publisher. Keep your fingers crossed for me, eh? Every penny we can bring in to pay off our debts and work on building some equity in our house will be a blessing. If I can help with those goals by writing, that would be amazing.

House update--and CHICKENS!

I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted. I sort of feel like if I post about our house, it will jinx it. Silly, right?

We had the house inspected. It's in very good shape, the $1,000 we have to play with from the seller for repairs will fix the worst of the problems (new water heaters.) The foundation, roof, wiring, plumbing and furnace are all in good working order.

So we made our offer, which was a little more than I would have liked to pay, but considerably less than they wanted to get. It was accepted! Now it's a waiting game for the loan. We should be able to move in about a month.

I can hardly wait to get my garden in the ground. It'll be a little late, especially considering we only have a 90 day growing season. But I should be able to plant some starts from the nursery, and some herbs and radishes that grow quickly. I'm growing something this summer, damnit!

The kids and I were exploring and found the Ely County Corrals. Turns out that, until not many years ago, people could keep farm animals in town. When the ordinances changed, the city built the corrals for the people who were keeping pigs and horses in their city-lot backyards.
Oh My Gosh--I want a corral BAD! It's like a huge community garden, only for farm animals instead of tomatoes. About sixty nice-sized corrals all connected, each with a different assortment of animals. There are horses, of course. But also chickens, turkeys, pigs, lots of goats and sheep, and a couple of pigs. We even saw peacocks.

I asked around and found out that people lease the land from the city for $200 a year, and the improvements are sold. So we'd have to find someone who was selling their corral's barn/coop/whatever, buy those, then lease the land. A guy feeding his horse told me that the corrals sell from $200 to $10,000 depending on what's on the lot.

I am going to own one! I keep driving by them, looking at the chickens and goats (I don't want sheep--I hate to eat lamb, and the animals are really stinky.) I'm not eating goat meat. I'll use them for their ability to turn scraps into high-quality manure for my garden.

Want to know how excited Kevin is about me planning to haul chicken and goat poop (oooh! Maybe rabbits, too!) in our minivan? HAHA!

Moved, finally---and pros and cons

After two years of planning, the kids and I have moved to Ely. Kevin is still in Vegas, working, and will move the end of June when his job here starts. God, I miss him. He's visiting next weekend and I can hardly wait!

Over the holiday weekend I called the owner of the house that we made an offer on. We'd found another house and were on the verge of making an offer on that one--and couldn't do it without making sure we couldn't have the house we really love.

I'd asked my realtor to ask the owners if they'd agree to sell for the appraised value, should the appraisal come in under the asking price. She said she was sure they wouldn't. I decided to ask myself, and found the owners completely pleasant and easy to deal with.

Turns out that they are willing to sell for the appraised value. Not only that, but the wiring (which our realtor had told us had to be replaced) is fine and the furnace is also in good working order (although it is an oil furnace and we will probably replace it with a more efficient one.) Our realtor had also told us that the windows across the front of the house made the house hard to heat--turns out that is wrong as well. The windows face the west (nearly the entire front of the house is glass) and the back of the house is built into the mountain, so the house is heated by solar power and very well insulated. I was in it on Thursday and the house was warm, even though the owners have the furnace set to 50 degrees, and it was overcast and snowing outside.

Of course, I'm still going back and forth about what to do--whether to buy right now. Here's my pro and con list:

PROS:

The house is big enough--the only rental we've been able to find in six months of looking is a 500 square foot apartment.

With half an acre of land, we can grow a significant portion of our own food. The backyard already has a ton of berries and currants growing in it. The soil is rich, spongy loam and should be fertile (judging by the growth already there.)

The backyard is completely private--we're on a hill and the neighbors to either side can't see into our yard. Also, there is no way of telling from looking at the house that we have such a large plot in the back. Should TSHTF, the privacy back there should be an added level of protection.

Because of the size and privacy of our yard, we could easily have a few hens, or even a couple of goats, without our neighbors being aware or complaining.

Going by the old three times your annual income rule of thumb, the house is affordable. It should actually be about 2.5 times our annual income.

Our mortgage will only be about twenty-five percent of our bring home income.

We plan on living in this house long-term. We aren't buying as an investment.

We have secured a loan with a low interest rate (5.75 percent, 30-year fixed.) Our payment will be considerably less than what we were paying to rent in Las Vegas.

We would be able to rent our house out for the price of the mortgage if we had to.

The house is walking distance to the middle school, both mine and Kevin's work, my parents' house and downtown. It's within two miles of the grocery store.

CONS:

If we wait another year or two, we might be able to buy the house or another one like it for much less.

This is a very small town. If one of us (especially Kevin. He earns much more than me, and he is a casino dealer. I'm a special education teacher's aide, a job with more security in hard times.) is laid off of work there aren't as many other opportunities as there were in Las Vegas (on the other hand, there is much less competition for each job.)

We still have about $8000 in consumer debt, which we would rather be done with before buying a house.

First steps

Our final week before taking our first really big step toward living more sustainably and more proactively with all that's going on in the world.

Moving to Ely from Las Vegas does feel like a very proactive move, at least to me. Less of our energy (work) will go toward the same expenses (rent, utilites, gasoline, etc.) We'll have more energy and time to put toward learning the million things we need to learn in order to be prepared for the difficult times that I can smell coming.

It's such a daunting, overwhelmingly huge task to think about preparing for what could very well be a total upheaval. Dick Cheney said something once along the lines of 'the American Way is nonnegotiable.' That statement is so startlingly arrogent it's hard to know where to start. Is our vice-president honestly suggesting that American over-consumption--using far far more than our fair share--is non-negotiable?

It seems to me that Americans have lost their sense of rebellion. There is this prevasive mindset that has caught most of us up--the idea that the individual person can't make a difference. It doesn't matter if I take the bus, since everyone else is driving SUVs. It doesn't matter if I eat organic, since the majority of food sold in my grocery store is still conventionally grown. Why should I recycle when there are only a tiny handful of bins out in my neighborhood on recyling day?

What we need is a movement. Organization. We need to make it cool to live a different way. And for God's sake, we really need our leaders to stop suggesting that change is actually unamerican. Our president has been saying over and over that limits on emmissions won't happen--that the ingenuity of a few will save us all. Hogwash. We're in this together. It will take the ingenuity of our entire nation to fix things here--and the rest of the world will notice, and with any luck, follow suit.

I got a call today about a job interview in Ely, for a position as a special education teacher's assistance. The pay isn't fantastic, but the benefits are, and that's important since Kevin's job doesn't offer any. The interview is Friday--keep your fingers crossed for me, eh?

House--still

We made the offer day before yesterday. Hopefully we'll hear something today. Waiting is driving me insane, but I guess it's a good exercise in patience.

Another house came on the market yesterday, on the same street just a block down. It's newer, bigger, (five bedrooms vs. three in the one we made an offer on) and in better repair. They're asking $165,000 and offering $5,000 cash back if you pay the full price. That's effectively $160,000. Makes me feel better about the price we offered, and shores up our decision about what price we won't go over.

I found a bunkbed on Craig's List for a hundred bucks including the mattresses. The little apartment we're renting is so tiny, Adrienne and Nick are going to have to share a room for a couple of months. They're both going to hate it, and I don't blame them, but we have to do what we have to do. So they'll use the bunks and then when we move into a house Nick can have them in his room. Or Ruby can.

I have a lot to say about a lot of stuff, and I'm sorry that I haven't gotten into much beyond my own housing situation yet. I will, I promise. Just as soon as I have a second to think about something beyond where my family will live.