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Monday, May 26, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
A little shot in the arm.
Something remarkable happened to me twice today so far. I went to the bathroom - not the remarkable part, besides, it's across the hall from my 'classroom' (spare room that's only mine when nobody else wants it) at my Thursday school. The remarkable part happened twice, both times right after I washed my hands. I looked in the mirror...
and had no complaint about what I saw.
Liked my reflection whole-heartedly.
The first time I almost wrote it of as poor lighting in the teacher's bathroom, and went to teach a class. The second time, I gotta say, I looked really nice. Didn't find red marks or red cheeks to pick on, no stain on my shirt, complimenting jewelry, and the white shirt contrasting my usual palor to the point where I actually looked somewhat tan and healthy. (Thank you, Jergins Healthy Glow lotion!) (And for that matter, thank you Cover Girl.)
All over the place I've found little signs that I might just be getting it together as an adult. I know, I know, should have taken care of that BEFORE having a child, yadda yadda yadda, responsibilty and "finding yourself" etc. Whatev. I've worked out the curriculum mapping and lesson planning and I'm on a nice, easy schedule of To-Do's. Keeping a Schedule/To-Do/Journal book helps. Concert set-up, execution, and clean-up went fine - the things that bothered me were human, and therefore, unavoidable (ask me about that brat who decided to whack the $300 overhead mic with his recorder as he got on the risers). My house is, well, less than perfect, but a healthy amount of antibodies is good for a child, decreases the risk that they'll develop allergies and asthma. At least that's what I tell the black bottoms of our socks. The car isn't even that messy. And I actually look like an adult. Yes, I wear my Crocs out of the house and I have a rhinestone-studded T-shirt reading "This Mom Rocks". But I also have matching clothes and a decent black leather bag that doubles as a diaper bag - of course, ask me if I remembered to actually put diapers in it when we went out last night. Oh well, pobody's nerfect.
At least I look like I know what I'm doing!
Funny thing, suddenly noticing that you like yourself more.
And yes, becoming a mommy helped make me feel like I wasn't a fumbling kid anymore. But I guess I can give plain old "me" a little credit, too.
and had no complaint about what I saw.
Liked my reflection whole-heartedly.
The first time I almost wrote it of as poor lighting in the teacher's bathroom, and went to teach a class. The second time, I gotta say, I looked really nice. Didn't find red marks or red cheeks to pick on, no stain on my shirt, complimenting jewelry, and the white shirt contrasting my usual palor to the point where I actually looked somewhat tan and healthy. (Thank you, Jergins Healthy Glow lotion!) (And for that matter, thank you Cover Girl.)
All over the place I've found little signs that I might just be getting it together as an adult. I know, I know, should have taken care of that BEFORE having a child, yadda yadda yadda, responsibilty and "finding yourself" etc. Whatev. I've worked out the curriculum mapping and lesson planning and I'm on a nice, easy schedule of To-Do's. Keeping a Schedule/To-Do/Journal book helps. Concert set-up, execution, and clean-up went fine - the things that bothered me were human, and therefore, unavoidable (ask me about that brat who decided to whack the $300 overhead mic with his recorder as he got on the risers). My house is, well, less than perfect, but a healthy amount of antibodies is good for a child, decreases the risk that they'll develop allergies and asthma. At least that's what I tell the black bottoms of our socks. The car isn't even that messy. And I actually look like an adult. Yes, I wear my Crocs out of the house and I have a rhinestone-studded T-shirt reading "This Mom Rocks". But I also have matching clothes and a decent black leather bag that doubles as a diaper bag - of course, ask me if I remembered to actually put diapers in it when we went out last night. Oh well, pobody's nerfect.
At least I look like I know what I'm doing!
Funny thing, suddenly noticing that you like yourself more.
And yes, becoming a mommy helped make me feel like I wasn't a fumbling kid anymore. But I guess I can give plain old "me" a little credit, too.
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