4 Things

I was tasked with coming up with 4 unexpected/surprising things about myself, courtesy of a friend on Facebook.

1. Though I am petrified of heights, I have "ride in a hot air balloon" on my lifetime To Do list.
2. I am collecting hilarious or meaningful quotes from middle schoolers, and secretly think I may make a book someday... even if it's just a Shutterfly book for myself. It even has a title, but I'm not telling, 'cause what if I really do decide to publish it?
3. I really, viscerally hate the Game of Life. I feel like it is judging my life choices (stop here and get married! choose the family path OR the career path!), and determining the overall success of life (MY life!) by the amount of money I earn.  And don't even get me STARTED on the little pink and blue people. Ugh.
4. A part of me truly believes that my car may, at any moment, begin flying. This is especially true when cresting a hill or going over a speed bump. It could happen.

Labels

I keep wanting to Write About Labels with some sort of adolescent zeal. About how much I hate them (stupid, limiting labels), about how we don't even need them. "Oh man, labels!" I want to exclaim, in tones of great exasperation. I want to rant, and rave, and whine and...  But the thing is, that's all a little bit hard to buy, coming from someone who wears some labels proudly, perhaps even obnoxiously. It would be hard to take me seriously, considering that I use the label "Feminist" like it's a second name. And so I have been pondering this for a while, and here is what I have concluded.

Labels are... tricky. They are like clothes. Some fit like they were made for us, and we are so proud to wear them in public. We know they look good. Even if they don't, they are so darn comfortable. That is the "feminist" label to me. It fits like it was made for me, and I wear it comfortably all the time. It didn't even have to be altered to fit me-- no qualifiers are necessary! Feel free to talk to me about it. It's a well placed label, and I love it.

Other labels, though, are a little more iffy. Some are more like those clothes I have hanging in the farthest reaches of my closet. There is something about them that makes it impossible to just cast them off, but nothing so appealing that I would wear them in public. They are scratchy, or they don't fit right. They're just uncomfortable. Periodically they get donated to Goodwill-- just because they aren't right for me doesn't mean they are wrong for everyone.

That's how a lot of other labels are. Some are just too restrictive, kind of irritating, and don't reflect "me." They aren't bad, per say, but they aren't exactly right.

So I treat labels like I treat my clothes: I wear those that fit comfortably and reflect who I am. And if it's not the Goldilocks of clothes (or labels)? If it's too much of something, or not enough of another? Well, then. I simply decline to embrace it.

Terminal Velocity

Well, it's happened. And I am not too pleased about it. It seems that, using my current (pretty decent) systems if organization and time management, I have reached maximum capacity; important commitments are being edged out of my brain. Last Tuesday, I absolutely and totally forgot to bring Neptune to his orthodontist appointment. Not only that, but it didn't even realize I had forgotten until his mom forwarded me an email from the orthodontist.

Oops.

The following day, in a burst of trying to make up for my unintended flakiness (with regards to the orthodontist, among other things), I approached my To Do list with zeal. On Wednesday, I:

Run errands to....
... The grocery store
.... Costco
... The Container Store
... All the Best Petcare
... UPS
... Wal-Greens

Called and scheduled/re-scheduled...
... One doctor's appointment
... One orthodontist appointment
... One hair cut


Taken kids from/to...
... School
... The doctor's office
... The hair salon
... The orthodontist
... Piano lessons
... Karate
... Soccer

Picked up forms from...
... The person who did my observation yesterday
... The doctors' office (a different doctors' office)

And I have developed the habit of actually looking at my calendar on a regular basis. That's pretty important too.

I've heard this thing about the best laid plans...

When I started this Masters in Teaching programme, I was very clear about my goals. (In my head, I mean. And to the people I knew pre-programme.) I was in this process for two things: 1) The piece of paper that would allow me to be a teacher 2) Mutually supportive professional relationships. I knew it would be a small group, and planning to make friends seemed like a tall order. Plus, I had friends. Awesome friends. I have always felt very, very lucky to have the friendships I do.

So there was 0 pressure on the whole friendship front. I was excited to make professional contacts, and eager to jump through the hoops that would place me in front of the classroom. I had dragged my heals about going back to school for a long time, but having decided, I was eager to Get Going.

And then... well, I made friends. Kind of by accident, but to my great delight. My cohort is full of wonderful people, and I am lucky to be jumping through hoops alongside them. We are quite the circus act, but we're in it together! 

On Saturday, our instructor did not show up for our 9:00 class. When 9:30 rolled around, the office manager poked her head in. "No instructor?"

"Nope."

"I tried calling him, but I am not getting an answer. You have a class at 1:30, right?"

"Yep."

"Why don't you just plan on coming back for that."

We grinned at each other. Just... peace out? Forget class altogether for the morning? We could do that! Lacie, Ruka, Grace and I headed back to my house for tea, the fox video, and exchanging of house decorating/renovating opinions (yes, really). For lunch, we headed to a local dim sum place, and made it back to school for our 1:30 class.

It was a glorious, fun, relaxing morning. I just delight in this group of ladies; we are so different, but we have such fun together, and work together so very well.

I am positively thrilled that my plan to Not Make Friends failed so spectacularly. 

Novelty

Like most people in the world, I have areas of strength, and areas in need of (ahem) growth. I regularly find myself saying, "Well, I guess I should write off a career in professional ____________!" (Careers I have eliminated include professional disc golf, jewelry making, Chinese-speaking, cooking, etc) I may carry on doing these things recreationally/as needed, but I have no illusions about my natural skills.

It's ok, I tell myself. I have other talents.

At this point, I find myself chewing on my lip. What are those skills? Well, I'm nice...

The other day, I conclusively put my finger on A Skill. I'm good at Novelty!

I get bored with routine myself, and I expect nothing less from those with whom I associate. Therefore, I like to insert some sparkles into daily life.

For example, I make the kids "To Do" lists pretty regularly. On the lists are chores, homework, events, practices/rehearsals, etc. Useful as they are, though, we all get kind of tired of them now and then. Today, we didn't have "To Do" lists...we had "To Do" balloons!

Pop a balloon, get a required activity! Included activities: science homework, tidying up bedrooms, walking the dog, doing the macarena, and hugging Blythe. All important things!

What do you do?

People ask each other all of the time, "So, what do you do?" It always, always means, "What is your job?" What, though, if we couldn't answer with that? Several months ago, I saw a writing prompt to this effect, and have been thinking about it off and on ever since. If I couldn't answer with my job (nanny) or my grad school experiences (masters in teaching, student teaching in a 7th grade classroom), what would I say?

What do I do?

I read. I cry at silly things. I laugh easily. I dance like no one is watching (even when, actually, people are). I worry about things that don't matter. I make up songs. I take hundreds-- thousands-- of pictures. I scrapbook. I make an active effort to absorb sunlight. I make lists, and schedule things, but I still sometimes forget to do them. I go to weddings. I delight in my friendships. I procrastinate. I clean as little as possible. I write about as much as I clean (but I do enjoy it so much more).

I think. I analyse. I ponder.


Really, even without taking my job into consideration at all, I am very busy.

Evolution

I spend a lot of my life being So Fascinated. I am So Fascinated by people, by animals, by nature, simply by the way things work. I am nearly constantly In Awe of Something. Those of you who know me in real life are chuckling to yourselves now, as you are undoubtedly familiar with my rapturous explanations and swirling thought processes. It's why I was a psych major, I think-- because I just can't help being Amazed, particularly by people.

Right now, the subject of my amazement has been How Friendships Evolve. I know, I know. It sounds like a psych study, doesn't it? "How friendships evolve: A multidimensional study of female friendships between the ages of 6 and 83" or whatever. But, while I think that would actually be a very interesting study, and I would be So Fascinated to read it, that's not my point at all.

My point is more... So, you know when you are having dinner with a friend? And you realize that Wow, you have known them for X years? And you think of all the things that the younger version of yourselves didn't know? All of the things you couldn't have predicted? Yeah. That.

This summer, I danced at Daisy's wedding. I knew, knew for a fact, that she was 25 years old. But, honestly, I couldn't see her as anything but an 8 year old. I saw us swimming in the pool in her backyard, taking my dog for a walk (on two leashes, so we could each hold one) (this was a tiny dog, mind you), building enormous forts in her family room. I saw sunburns, and birthday parties, and family trips. And, if I focused my eyes just right, and really concentrated-- well, then I could see a woman; a bride.

I have been having this experience a lot, lately. On Monday, Lynn and I got drinks after work. As we were leaning close together, laughing or shaking our heads ruefully, sharing the details of our lives, I had a flashback to about when we had first met. No, honestly, I remembered when I had first learned about her. I was working for the K family over the summers, and had been part of a nanny share with the S family that first year (2006). During the school year, I learned that the S family was going to hire a nanny of their own, and we would all essentially turn into one large playgroup over the summer. (The playgroup wasn't required, mind you, but it was predicted. The kids were all very good friends.) I wondered about this. While I was excited by the idea of a colleague, I was a bit skeptical. Part of this was due to KK's interest in how Lynn and I would get along. We were very different people, he informed me. Part of it was due to my natural hesitancy when it comes to meeting new people. And the most embarrassing part (that I will only JUST NOW admit, 7 years later) is that I was really worried that the kids would all like her better.

Sitting on the other end of this, drinking beer with the woman I worried so much over meeting, I can't help but laugh. Of course the kids sometimes liked her better-- just like they sometimes liked me better. They're kids. And we are different people (KK was not wrong), but not in a way that ever has prevented us from being friends. We are both enthusiastic, energetic, caring people. She is a hilarious goof who would wrestle with the kids and run around for hours. I am the creative type, who will advocate for painting in shaving cream, or hanging up water balloon piñatas. We complemented each other beautifully, and thoroughly enjoyed our time together. And, somewhere along the line, after hours of hanging out with the kids, we became actual friends.

When thinking about these evolutions, I almost think of friendships as a cross-section. What you see on the outside conceals so many mesmerizing layers underneath. Thinking along these lines is almost unavoidable once I start. I see the kids as all of their ages at once, occasionally blindsided when I realize how grown up they are. I send a birthday greeting to a friend on her 26th birthday, and can't help but remember when she turned 14. She's a lawyer now, but I will always sort of see her as the skinny blonde girl with freckles and a school uniform, who I met on the first day of 7th grade at my new British school in Taiwan. When I see friends from college, I am amazed by everything that has happened in only seven short years-- the depth of the friendship we share, the arc of experiences behind and ahead of us.

I'm just... fascinated.