Recommendations on Health & Fitness

Once Christmas passes, people tend to start thinking about health, fitness, and new years resolutions. Why not think about them now... and if you get some Christmas money or Amazon gift cards, spend them on things that will change your life?

In the past year, I stopped skating with my derby team and I changed my life. Derby helped me get past fears I didn't even know I had. At the end, it stressed me out to a really unbelievable extent. Today I'm a lot healthier and slightly more sane than I was when I was skating.

In the past year, I've lost a full clothing size (maybe more- I haven't been clothes shopping recently) and approximately 25 pounds. More importantly, I've lost almost 7% body fat. Because of these changes, people have asked me what I do/use/eat. Here's my recommendations, all in one tidy package.

I joined a gym and found a trainer I like. I like my gym- it doesn't smell bad, the towels are nice, the showers have good pressure, and I never have to wait for a bike. It has gotten to the point where the trainers and the desk staff at least know my face, if not my name.

I see a trainer once a week. If you say that you're not fit enough to see a trainer, you're 100% wrong. Everyone should see a trainer once in a while- you don't need to see one once a week if you don't want to. She's helped me with my form, pushed me to try things that are now a major part of my fitness agenda, told me to get one more rep wen I wanted to give up, encouraged me when I am feeling down about how I look, made me feel sore in muscles I didn't know existed. I also have a repetitive use injury in my left knee from derby, and she has helped me strengthen the muscles supporting it as well as show me how to protect it when lifting.

I bought the book The New Rules of Lifting for Women. I have bought more than one fitness book/guide/whatever in my time. This is the only one I followed like it was my job. I took 6 months to do the entire program.

The only part of it I ignored was the nutrition advice- mainly because I'm super picky. I ate about the number of calories they recommended- the theory is that you can either focus on losing fat or you can focus on gaining muscle but if you do both at the same time you won't do either one very well. So I changed my focus to muscle for 6 months. I lost exactly zero pounds doing this program. I lost an entire clothing size. I gained unbelievable pride in the muscles I am finally starting to see.

I bought a Misfit Shine - it's like a Fitbit, only prettier. I am motivated by competition and this motivates me. I like to see the lights reach the goal. It works for walking, biking, swimming (it's waterproof)- pretty much anything. On non-gym days I am totally motivated by making sure I reach my goal so that I can keep my streak going.

It's so pretty!

I did a detox. Yes, I really did. Actually, I did it twice. I did the Metagenics 10 day detox that a friend recommended because he's a chiropractor and he's also done it. It was really awful the first time in February. It was moderately unpleasant the second in October. The hardest part was cutting out sugar. I lost weight both times but I really reformed my eating habits and that was the goal. 

I set very specific goals. I have goals for body fat, weight, clothing size, time to run a mile, and a few others. I have never been very good at goal setting, so this is a big change for me!

Lastly, and maybe the most important thing, I changed my mindset about eating. I am an all or nothing person in most areas of my life- I can't do something halfway, it's not the way I'm programmed. Which means that I'm either dieting or I'm not. In the past year, I've changed that. Instead of having a "cheat day" which means that I could literally eat insane amounts of food, I have moved to having 4 cheat meals a week- I typically eat 5 meals a day, so 4 out of 35 meals in a week are cheats.  A cheat meal is far less damaging. It also means I feel far less deprived- planning to eat out with friends? Have the burger and beer. It's not the end of the world, or the end of the diet. I'll be back to drinking green smoothies in the morning. 

I also make a great effort to not think about eating something for the last time. If it's something unusual that only comes around once a year, I'll eat it. But I try to remember, I'll probably get a chance to eat it again and I don't eat like a starving man. I haven't gone on a big vacation during this time- if I went somewhere with unusual food, I would probably eat a lot of it. But I'd go back to being my normal self when I returned. It's all part of the deal. 

There you have it- all my secrets. If you want to ask me any questions, feel free- if I can help you, I will! 

The Mean Teacher

Here is something I don't understand: the teacher who is proud of student failure.

Does it make you feel tough? Strong? Smart?

To be smarter than a bunch of students who are either willingly or not putting their learning in your hands?

Teachers have a tough time in America these days. We are definitely not afforded the respect we are due.

However, if you're out there saying things like, "No one gets an A on my tests." YOU ARE A BIG PART OF THE PROBLEM.

Teaching in an online format requires a lot of things that don't normally happen in a regular classroom.

An online teacher needs the support of the school (or parent, if homeschooled) to monitor tests, to report grades, and to act as a go-between when there is difficulty. The majority of my interactions with these people we call mentors is when I send them an email to confirm that a student was absent and so they can have an extension on their assignment or to let them know that a student has fallen behind.

Some mentors will talk to me as a peer- I am, after all - and work with me to help the student succeed.

Some mentors treat me as the enemy. They make excuses for their student. He is taking classes at a college in addition to high school.  She has 7 AP classes. He is student council president. She has an internship.

Mentors: I understand. I totally get it. I have the best students at schools all over the state. And a few not even in this state. They are all way too overcommitted, but that's another blog post. However, they signed up for this class. It's 100% an elective course. But it's a college level elective. And if they don't do the work, they will fail. I won't give them a failing grade, they will have earned it.

I didn't do that to them. They did it to themselves. I'm available a ridiculous amount to answer questions, to help them, to re-teach the work. I actually want to do that! I love meeting with the kids! It's the best part of my job. If they don't want to talk to me "live," that fine, all of my videos & notes are available on my site, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I want them to get it. I want them to love the way the economic world works the same way I do. I want them to hear a story on the radio and get excited because they understand why the Saudis are pushing oil production or why banks got in trouble for foreign exchange fraud.

So teachers who say NO one gets an A. Screw you. I am so happy when my students do well. I get so excited when I see a kid who has been struggling get 100% on a quiz. I send them emails congratulating them on their work. If you deny yourself that happiness, that's on you, terrible teacher.

Can't Win.

I'm letting you in on a little secret: I am so awkward at personal interaction.

You just said, "Oh, hey, me too!" This isn't a competition, but no, you're totally not.

Here is the problem. For my whole life, when people tell me the truth, I'm not offended. I wish someone had told me when I was younger that I didn't have a great voice. But they didn't, and I embarrassed myself for years singing in front of people.

My mom used to tell me that I was loud all the time. I was offended at the time because she's my mom and it's my job as a kid to be offended but in truth, it was useful information.

*Disclaimer: in truth, when my family (mom/dad/brother/sister) tell me the truth, I'm totally offended. Everyone else gets a pass.

Why this is a problem: I cannot get it through my head that other people are not the same way. I also cannot seem to get that people are not always telling me the truth.

When I tell people the truth, they get offended.

Here's how I learned to get around that. I try to keep my mouth shut.

Here's why I fail at that. When I keep my mouth shut, people say I'm a snob. Or I'm mean. Or that I hated them.

I know that people say that, because I've had about a billion conversations with people and at some point they say, "I used to think you were so mean/snobby/bitchy/horrible but people just need to get to know you!"

And when I get to know you, I get all attached. And when I get all attached, I let my guard down. And when I let my guard down, I tell you the truth.

You probably don't want to hear it. If you don't and you can't tell me that, we probably won't be friends much longer.

People who are my true, good friends are people who I have argued and cried with. They have probably told me at least once (in the past year) that I said something offensive. And there are always 3 reasons for this:

• at the time I didn't realize that it was offensive, 
• at the time I was super emotional about something, 
• or I spoke freely at a time when I really shouldn't have. 

And sometimes- most of the time- like a teen age girl - I just don't get why that is. But if I don't talk to people, I have no friends- because I'm mean/snobby/bitchy/horrible... actually just scared to open my mouth because who even knows what is going to be said.

For the record, I'm totally aware of the situation. But here's the deal. Sometimes, you have to tell me I was offensive. I probably didn't mean to do it, and I'll be sorry.

I'm not a role model... wait, yes I am.

Does anyone else remember this commercial? No? Ok, moving on. 

This post is about as revealing as a person gets, so sit down, strap in, hold on, and shut up.

No, please don't shut up.

Three years ago, a former student messaged me on Facebook. She wanted to tell me I am a failure.

She intended for me to be a role model. I was a female teacher who was willing to question the establishment in public.

She was used to being treated as a higher being. She was smart and a lot like Reese Witherspoon's character in the movie Election. If you haven't seen it, you should. It's good.

She came from what was perceived as a good family. Her dad was an attorney. She planned to go to law school.

I was pregnant the semester she was in my class. I had a fairly high risk pregnancy which ended with me on bed rest for 10 weeks and a lot of drama. I don't know why this is relevant, but it's part of the story. I was under a lot of stress. It was also only my third year teaching, so I was still kind of a fuckup.

This student was in my last class of the day. I seem to remember that it was a smallish class, but it was full of personality. That's what teachers say when you have kids who are pretty wild. In this class a lot of the kids didn't like each other and were assholes about it.

This student was in the class with her boyfriend. He was a classic brilliant underachiever. Teachers typically hated him. I didn't, I found him entertaining.

One time, we had a lockdown drill. This meant that we acted like there was a threat of some sort in the building. This was an unannounced drill which also meant that we weren't sure if it was a drill or the real thing. Teachers locked their doors, covered the windows, turned off the lights, students were pushed into a corner and we were all supposed to act like there was no one in the room. This particular student started freaking out. Her boyfriend was hugging her and telling her it would be all right. Two other students in the class apparently gave her shit for freaking out. I don't know, honestly, I was busy trying not to freak out myself and I was really worried that they weren't being quiet. Anyway, she loudly called him an asshole.

I wrote her up for it. Standard disciplinary procedure. In her message, I should not have done that because they were "two of the biggest shitheads in class."

Huh. I didn't realize that justice was for the mostly good. I thought it was for everyone.

There was a student in her class who might have been new to the school. I honestly don't remember. I do remember that she did not dress like the other students. She didn't look like them. She didn't act like them. And some of them gave her crap for it. This student in particular, gave her a lot of crap for it. In her message, she asked me if I remembered accusing her of bullying a student without asking how she felt about it.

I didn't accuse anyone of anything. Which is my failing. The student and her mom accused two of the students and I supported her version of events. I should have done the accusing. I watched it happen. They taunted her daily. The student went on homebound instruction for the rest of the year because she felt like she couldn't deal with school. I feel really shitty that I didn't do anything first. So no, I don't give a fuck what she felt about it.

During this student's senior year, I took a group of students to Washington, D.C., for Obama's first inauguration. It took an insane amount of planning to get that trip together. I was told by the administration that I could only take students who were currently in my government course at the time. Since I had to take a minimum number and the trip was expensive,  they allowed me to open the trip to honors or AP students with their approval.

She asked to go on the trip. Despite what I saw as a personality conflict with her, I asked the administration anyway. I wanted to say no outright, but I went ahead and asked.

They said no. She was being criminally investigated at the time. While I know the details of the situation, I'm pretty sure she was a minor and so I'm not going to say anything incriminating. Let's just say that it was extreme bullying. It was pretty horrible, honestly.

One day, just as the bell rang, this student tried to stop me on the way out of my classroom.

I have a small bladder. I can barely make it 90 minutes of class, and there were times where I had to call over another teacher to keep an eye on my class so I could run to the bathroom.

Anyway, she tried to stop me. I had to pee. BAD.

She says I slammed the door to my classroom in her face when she wanted to know why I couldn't take her on the DC trip. Really, it was the door to the bathroom. She could have waited for me to finish. But she didn't. I don't know that things would have turned out differently for her. She wasn't allowed to go. I didn't make that decision.

I was reminded of all this today.

A friend of mine posted this amazing article on Facebook: http://thehairpin.com/2014/10/let-me-love-you/

A quote from the article:

Here’s an insanely revolutionary act: why not counter each ill thought that comes through your head with an acceptance—the acceptance that you’re not always going to agree with everything every woman does. Or an acceptance that some women will be tricky and some will be actual bitches, some of them will read Lean In and be the next Sheryl Sandberg, some women will call Beyoncé an anti-feminist, some will be walking contradictions, or some women will say that I’m a fake behind my back, or that I’m a liar, and that I don’t write well, or whatever—and just to accept that people are just people, women are just women, instead of reacting poorly and slamming them in whatever juvenile way that you see fit.


I realized that I have been accepting but not liking certain women for years. When I was being a butt head when I was a kid, my mom would say, "I love you, but I don't like your actions."

I have accepted my students, flaws and all, and there is more than one that I have not loved. But love or not, I have been fair.

I have always been fair, no matter what their age, gender, sexual orientation, socio economic background. I will not give you a free pass to misbehave because you are smart or white or rich.

And so while this student carries this viewpoint of oppression with her, I am proud. I am damn proud of what I've done and what I continue to do. I am a role model. I try to choose to do the right thing. Sometimes I fail. I'm totally human. But I believe in fairness.

I hope this student finds peace and acceptance. Believing you are oppressed when there is no reason to do so is a horrible cross to bear.

A Good Enough Mommy

I gave up today.

I am not a typical Pinterest mommy. I didn't cloth diaper. I didn't take pictures of my kids on the first day of the month. I didn't make my own baby food.

Pinterest didn't even exist until my youngest was 3, so I guess I have an excuse.

I typically use Pinterest

 to pin things that I will never wear.

To pin things that make me laugh- this one is the most repinned of anything 501 times as of this writing.

To pin tattoos that I want

and of course to pin things I want to do for the kids

If one spends too much time on Pinterest, one can feel inadequate in about 100 different ways. I don't make dessert every day. I don't have enough money/time/energy to label everything in my house with wee tiny chalkboards. I don't work out enough. When I do, I don't wear cute enough clothes that I made myself by upcycling t-shirts.

This definitely goes for moms. I don't pack my kids lunches. I don't make them into adorable shapes. My kids won't touch kale. My kids don't  have bedroom signs with adorable saying on them.

We did do bubble art http://www.pinterest.com/pin/210261876323028128/

Once, we made bubble art. I totally micromanaged it. It still hangs in the boys bathroom and looks super cute, but I was a huge pain in the ass when we did it. I didn't want it to have too many bubbles, I didn't want the boys to be covered in food coloring.

Since before my boys were even born, I have liked scrapbooking. I totally get that it's mommy homemaker, but I like office supplies, pictures, and stickers, and scrapbooking combines all those things into awesome fun times for me.

As the boys got older, I discovered digital scrapbooking, which I actually enjoy even more.

HOWEVER, it's so much work. Editing the pics. Laying out the book. Organizing them by event. Putting cute titles on the pages.  And so on... that now I'm behind about 3 years. By the time I get to even editing the pictures, I won't remember why I took the picture of Agent X with the sassy look on his face or Agent N up to his elbows in mud.

And so I've decided not to continue. I'm going to put pictures in books. I'm sure I'll edit some. But I'm done with the titles and the stickers and the ribbons and the papers. Pictures in books because they tell a story of the things we've done and they remind of of the fun we've had. The boys like to hear stories of what we did together when they were too young to remember. And that's what's important.

Thoughts on Gay Marriage

When the Windsor case decision was handed down from the Supreme Court back in June, 2013, I kept hitting refresh on my internet browser like a monkey on crack. I was at a conference in Richmond and when it was clear that DOMA had been overturned, I interrupted the speaker and announced it to the room. Most people were happy and those that weren't had the good grace to shut up about it.

Today, when the same SCOTUS declined to hear cases that overturned same-sex marriage bans, therefore making them legal, I was happy about it, but also had the overwhelming sense of well, it's about time.

Marriage is a government institution. Society benefits from it.

And now, a famous quote from Liz Feldman:

Personally, I am very excited about “gay marriage”, or as I like to call it, “marriage”.  Because I had lunch this afternoon, I didn’t have “gay lunch”.  And I parked my car, I didn’t “gay park” it.  Although, I totally parked like a fucking fag!  

source: http://www.funnyordie.com/articles/d18ead07bf/one-day-more

I'm not gonna lie...

Why Teachers Lie About Their Classrooms - at The Atlantic

I don't lie about my teaching. I'm just never going to tell you the whole truth.

Yes, there's a kid who is falling asleep/cheating/texting while another kid has an epiphany. And tomorrow, the roles could be reversed. I literally don't care about the kid not paying attention.

When I was in the classroom, and now when I have group or individual sessions, or when I'm recording a lecture, I give 100% of myself to my students. I give that 100% to the students who give me 100% back. On any given day, that student could be a different person.

I don't hold it against them. If you and your mom got in a fight before school and she took your phone, you're probably distracted and not paying attention. It's nothing personal.

In my last 2 years in the classroom, the phrase "I'm not gonna lie..." was extremely popular. It would often precede a statement not worth lying about. "I'm not gonna lie, this was the best chicken biscuit ever. "

Sometimes, it preceded a hard truth. "I'm not gonna lie, class was really boring today, L-Mar."

I appreciated their honesty mainly because it gave me an opportunity to respond. Usually, it was, "You're right, the Puritans suck and I can't wait to be done with them." This was followed by laughter on both sides- they're not used to teachers admitting that something they teach is pretty awful (sorry, dear reader, if you like the Puritans).  And secondly, they saw me as a human. Which will lead to more "I'm not gonna lie... " statements in the future, which will lead to a better teacher-student relationship, which will lead to more learning.

Other times, it gave me the opportunity to notice that while the rest of the class was heatedly discussing the evils of Commie-chasing, this student was completely checked out and bored.

"Why were you bored?" "It was dumb."

"What's going on in your other classes?" "Ugh, everything is so lame right now. I think all of you teachers decided not to do anything interesting this week."

" How are things between you and your brother/mom/dad?" "My dad moved out yesterday."
(me, silently... AND THERE WE HAVE IT.)

also applies to teaching.

When I talk to my colleagues at lunch that day, do I share how the Puritans suck? Nope. I'm going to tell them about how my 2nd block was SUPER ENGAGED and everyone was making AWESOME CONNECTIONS between the Red Scares of the 1920s and 1950s.

I'm not gonna lie, but after you've been teaching a while, you get selective memory. You remember the awesome stuff and there seems to be more of it every day. You remember the really horrible stuff. But you don't remember the stuff in between.

Old, and getting older.

There have been a lot of things written about the age of people who are involved with church.

What we can do to keep the next generation (if you only read one, read this one- it really spoke to me)
Congregations getting older
How churches can bring young people back from (ugh) Fox News

As I sat around a table with fellow parents of kids from 6th-12th grade last Sunday, I realized something that I know my Assistant Rector who is in charge of youth programs and the Rector who is just in charge in general realized ages ago- we have a problem.

The problem isn't with the kids. It's with the parents. The kids can't get there by themselves.

My kid had never, not once, been to Sunday school. I wouldn't take him. The only reason I went last week is because I have such fond memories of youth group when I was in middle and high school. I also have some not-fond memories, but whatever, everyone has stuff like that in middle & high school. Anyway, I didn't take him before, because for adults, Sunday school is sitting and listening to someone. And then go to church, and listen to someone else. I do not have the patience for that. I need some interaction. I need discussion. I need problem solving. I want to be with my peers, too. And my peers aren't at church. Well, not many of them.

The alternative to listening to someone was teaching, but I didn't want to teach to little kids. I don't like little kids. I teach high school for a reason. But women always get asked to teach little kids. And I teach 5 days a week already. I didn't really want to go teach on yet another day. As it is, I teach 2-3 children church sessions a year, and I dread each one.

I love my church leaders, they are amazing humans, and I know they have very full plates, and I don't want to tell them no. So I just avoid them. Sorry. I know you're reading this. You probably already figured that out, though. I know it's passive aggressive of me.

As I was looking around, I realized 2 things:

• There was no one there who looked like me. I have purple streaks in my hair and a nose ring. I was wearing blue glitter nail polish. I was also wearing clothes from Banana Republic, before you get this image of me wearing a Slayer shirt with a mohawk and a tattoo on my neck (it's on my ankle). I'm not that rebellious, but sometimes I stand out in a white bread crowd. And yet...
• Everyone looked like me. We were all white, middle/upper middle class people between 39 (I'm fairly confident I'm the youngest) and 55ish? 60? I don't know. I'm not great with ages of people who are older than I am.  

I've been mulling this over for the past couple of days. I go to a small church in a midsized but rural town. I go to an Episcopal church which has kept ties with the Diocese and the area is fairly conservative. But the town I live in also has a university, which means by it's very nature has some random social liberals wandering the streets. 

These social liberals have kids. I know, because my kids play with them at summer camp, at school, in the neighborhood. A couple of them go to my church. And the ones who do are pretty cool people. But not enough of them are there. 

I grew up in the precursor to a mega church. It was perfectly normal to have 600-700 people on a regular Sunday. Wednesday night youth group would commonly pack the youth room with kids sitting on the floor after the chairs were gone- 50+ kids on a regular basis. None of the leaders were parents of kids who were in the room. They were college students and young married couples. 

Part of the delight of the youth group was the idea that we were always doing things that our parents would have probably not enjoyed. Singing as loudly as possible? Check. Randomly breaking out into tears over various teenage angst coupled with emotional spirituality? Check. Having that guy reach over and take my hand during prayer and not letting go when it was finished? Check. Wash dishes for an entire camp of people and stick my hands into disgusting drains to clean out the food? Check. 

I doubt any of those things would have happened if my parents were there. I would have gone- I would have been forced to go- but I would have been guarded. I would have been intentionally difficult to deal with. 

After this meeting on Sunday, I realized the draw of the "mega church."  I've been to a mega church. I didn't like it. It felt too fake. But it's easy to get your kids involved. You can plug them into a community that will reinforce some kind of values which you hopefully approve of through peer pressure and adults who aren't their parents. And if you choose to, you can not be involved at all. 

I always thought I would be involved with a youth group. I never thought it would be while my own child (or children) was in it. But when I tried to get involved as a college student, I was discouraged from doing so. I was too young, the kids in the youth group were too old and too close to my age, I wanted to change things too much- this was at a different church than the one I grew up in- and there was a strong undercurrent of "and you are too female, which is not ok with us." So it's been about 20 years since I've gotten active with church, and I'm kind of dragging my feet right now. 

Agent N, the 6th grader, needs to do some stuff without me around. He needs to have positive influences in people who aren't his parents. He needs to sing and yell and dance and cry without us watching. But we go to a small church in a midsized town, and so one of us will be watching sometimes. I'm going to try to get involved with other kids but it's hard when you hear your child's voice yelling (Agent N's normal volume) to focus on something or someone else. And it's hard to talk to kids you don't know when you're... like me. I'm a good teacher because it gives me an in- I have something to talk about. And then the kids tell me stuff, so we have something to talk about together. But put me in a room with random people, especially random teenagers, and I'm awkward as hell. I was about 1000 times more confident when I was a teenager. Now I'm a teenager in an adult body. 

And this brings us back around to the beginning. The church has an age problem. Where are the parents? Where are the college students? I have avoided getting involved because of the demands on my time. But if more people got involved, there would be fewer demands on everyone's time because there would be more people to share the workload. But in order to get someone to want to take part of the work, they have to buy in to the concept. 

I don't even know where we go from here. 

Help me help you!

Students,
Dear, Dear Students,

You think teachers have all the power. So I am begging and pleading with you now, I am demonstrating to you that you are the one with the power. I cannot help if if I don't know what you don't understand.

Let me tell you a story:
Once upon a time, I took economics. This was in college, and it was the 90s, so there was none of this bullshit about students as customers. If you didn't like the professor, fuck off. If you didn't feel he (mostly he) taught very well, fuck off. Many (though definitely not all) of the professors at the university I attended had the attitude of "We are the very prestigious university and many other people could have had your place as a student, so sit down and shut up."

Some of those professors were wonderful. None of them taught econ.

I did not do well. I did not understand. I did not like economics. I received the worst grades I had ever received. I still minored in econ.

Ten years later (give or take) I was told I would be teaching economics.

I dreaded it. I did not want to teach it. I did not like it.

I was wrong.

I did like it. Kind of a lot. It's really useful information. You can apply what you learn to real life.
And because I struggled with it, I am really damn good at teaching it.

Now, ten years after that, I'm teaching AP economics. And I understand your struggle. I know that not everyone gets it on the first pass. I know that sometimes you need three or four or ten examples before things click.

HOWEVER.



When you say to me I DON'T GET IT. I totally understand how you're feeling. I do. I have been where you are.

Because I'm teaching online, this is all via email. It shouldn't be, but no matter how many times I tell you about the software that we use to meet in real time, you refuse to meet with me.

I send another email. And I ask you- can you give me an example of a question that you don't understand. A practice quiz question. An assignment. Anything?

And you email me back and say I just don't understand.




And I email you again. This time, again asking for a specific example of what exactly you don't understand. I want to help you.



Please, tell me, WHAT DON'T YOU GET? Do you not understand the theory behind it? Do you not understand the formula we are using? Do you not understand anything about gross domestic product or consumer price index or monetary policy?

I have given you EVERYTHING. At some point, you have to take responsibility. You have to read back over your notes. The textbook. The additional website I showed you that has videos. The website with definitions. The practice tests.

And then, you have to answer my questions. I will make you a video. I will write out painstaking, step by step instructions. But you have to answer my questions.

The Great Decluttering Challenge

Every day for the past month, "Declutter 1 Thing" has regenerated on my to do list. I love repeating items on my to do list.

Declutter could mean 3 things:

1. Throw it away. 
2. Put it aside for yard sale. My neighborhood has an epic yard sale every spring and fall. Some people are very serious about selling stuff at this yard sale, or renting their driveways out to their friends. Traffic is mayhem at this ridiculous yard sale. People get out their grills and sell hot dogs. In general, I decided that if someone else might find value in it, I was going to pack it into a box and put it in the basement to sell in the spring. All money from the yard sale in May, 2015, is going to fund my service trip to Honduras (more on that later). 
3. Put it aside to give away.

More rules I established for myself:

• If I didn't declutter one thing, I couldn't check it off the list. Which means it turned red and became "overdue" on my app. And then the next day, I had 2 things to declutter. I only got really behind once, when I had to declutter 4 things in one day. 
• I could only remove something of my own, unless I had permission. The other day I cleaned up my younger son's books but I had to have permission to remove them. He gave it, since most of them were "baby books." 
• I couldn't check things off in advance. If I got fired up and cleaned out 3 things in one day, I couldn't check off 3 things ahead. One day, one check. The only time it counted was in back pay. (see above)

Occasionally, I decluttered lots of things. I started by cleaning out bookcases. Since my oldest son was born 12 years ago, we have moved 4 times. Twice to different states. That's a lot of packing and unpacking books, some of which I don't even like. It was hard to get rid of books because books are nice. They're comforting. You might need them someday. Some of them I gave to fellow teachers for their classrooms. Some I put in a yard sale box. Some I gave to a local charity.

Once I got past the initial routine, it became easier. I would try to think of a place I hadn't cleaned in a while and look there.

Some wonderful results of this particular challenge:

• I got a lot more organized. 

So organized. (not mine.)

• I have some really good stuff to sell at the yard sale. I always feel like I have a ton of stuff then I put it out and it's not that much. Which means that people don't even stop to look. Maybe they will this year. 
  

Some problems I came across:

• When I thought we should sell/give away something that a child refused to part with. A regular conversation was "You haven't played with this in years!" "But I want to now!" 
• Sometimes, the task was too daunting. I would look in a closet and decide that I would not be decluttering that particular location. Mainly that was because the object in that closet were not mine and I didn't want to get approval for decluttering. Either that, or I didn't want to move them around to get to the stuff that is community property. 

I'm not saying the rest of the people I live with are hoarders,
but I might be the one person standing between them and reality TV. 

• I'm so organized that I can't find some things. 

Either way, I strongly recommend doing this. It really helped me think about how there are some things I don't care about that I have moved around over and over again. And it definitely made me more organized. If only I can find the cookie cutters by Christmas, I'll be ok. 

BE RESPONSIBLE. Or, why I think most crowdfunding is stupid.

When I went to college, I paid for it with some help from my parents, some from myself, some from teensy tiny scholarships, most of it in the form of loans from the US government that I will be paying back for ages.

When I bought my first car, I had a job. At a gas station. Where I went to work at 7 am every day in the summer.

When my husband and I wanted to have a kid, we waited until we both had good jobs with good leave policies and insurance.

When we wanted to go on vacation, we saved our money.

When I wanted to play roller derby, I spent money that I had saved. I worked for contracts, bonuses, I even donated plasma so that I could upgrade my wheels. And after a year, I had a job so that helped pay for it, too.

Fundraisers have been a part of life forever. Dramatic things happen to people and sometimes they need help. Where it used to be that you'd see an address that accompanied a story in the newspaper, you could mail a check. Or you'd hear about someone at church and try to find out what they needed. Or you would hear from a friend and help out that way.

The internet has made the world a smaller place. Now you can hear about people who need help all over the world.

The difference is, people seem to think that they can ask for help for no reason at all.

All the things I mentioned above... there are fundraisers for those things: pay for me to go to college, buy a car, have a kid, buy a house, go on vacation, bla bla y bla.

Let me give a disclaimer: if something tragic happened to you, please, fundraise. I am not talking to you. You know what I mean: the family whose house burnt down, the dad who had a heart attack while running one Sunday and left his disabled wife and 2 kids behind, the mom who was in the Army and didn't return from Afghanistan, the tornado that tore through the town and leveled everything but the YMCA... legitimate reasons for fundraisers.

I was super entertained by the guy who raised money to make potato salad. If you didn't hear about Zack Danger and his potato dreams, click here. He's pointing out the ridiculousness of crowdfunding for stupid reasons, and probably making $50k in the process.

The ones that really get under my skin are the derby fundraisers. Go ahead, click on this link, it might annoy you as much as it did me. If you search for roller derby on some of the personal fundraising sites, you'll see that people are asking money to buy their gear. The most basic stuff: skates, pads, helmet.

Listen to me, grasshopper: if you can't afford the gear, how will you afford the dues, the travel, the insurance, the injuries, the possible time off work, the uniform. Literally thousands of dollars a year in derby expenses.

this is what it's like to play derby

Also like this. You're never seeing it again.

If you need to crowdfund for knee pads, you probably can't afford derby right now.

Be responsible. If you want to play derby and as many of the pleas say, "nothing will stop (me)" you, then save your money.

You can still get ready to play derby. Start working out now- there are lots of things you can do to get in shape for derby. There are TONS of websites that will tell you.

Go to open skate. Wear the rink skates. When you get your own, you'll appreciate them so much more.

Go to bouts. Volunteer. Learn all about derby.

And save your money. You're the only one responsible for your derby dreams. Earn them.

Prince Fielder is NAKED!

To start: every year ESPN the magazine has a body issue. They take super-arty (technical term) pics of athletes in a variety of sports. This year all the chatter is about Prince Fielder. Used to love him when he played for the Tigers, but he wasn't my favorite because I thought he had an attitude. Which is why I don't like one of his pictures, because he looks like a snob. But this picture:

dem legs.

I like this picture. This picture is blowing up the internet. There's a lot of hate going around about it because uuuuuugggggggh, he's sooooooo faaaaaaaaat.
Barf.
Whatever.

I have some things to say.

1. Before he was injured, he was paid to do one thing: hit baseballs a really long way. His body has been trained to do exactly that. Yes, he also played first base, but of all the positions in baseball, first is one of the least physically demanding. The dude hits baseballs.
2. He is paid, despite injury, $24 million a year to hit baseballs. Until 2020.
3. 1 in 6 players drafted make it to the majors. (Source) 17.2% of those good enough to even make it to the draft.
4. 1% of high school ball players will make it to the majors. (Source)

Whether or not you think Prince Fielder is hot, he's been hired to do a job that is almost entirely manual labor. Yes, he has to think about which pitches to hit and all that, so I didn't say it's entirely manual labor, but almost. You could be smart as hell and still not able to hit a home run. You gotta have the body to back it up. Anyway, Fielder hits baseballs, and until an injury that could happen to anyone, he did a fanfuckingtastic job of it. So go ahead and give him shit for how he looks, but I'm pretty sure he gives exactly zero fucks about what you think.

Adulting at a High Level

When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to grow up. 100% of the best part of growing up is making your own decisions.

Eat breakfast food all the time? Yes. Pancakes all the time. Delicious.

Go on vacation wherever you want? Yes.

Wear whatever you want? Yes.

Have a messy room? Why not?

Refuse to make your bed? Doesn't matter.

Fail to clean the bathroom every Saturday? Still get to go out.

Today, I'm sitting here while sweaty dudes make very loud noises on my roof. Today they're tearing the old one off. The rest of the week they'll be putting a new one on. What you don't realize as a kid is that there's a sense of satisfaction in knowing that as an adult, you can order a major home improvement project. And the feeling of accomplishment in knowing that you can pay for it.

My bed isn't made. My clothes aren't put away. I had a bagel for breakfast because pancakes are a pain in the butt. I didn't clean the bathroom this weekend. I'm wearing a t-shirt and spandex shorts because I'm going to work out in a couple of hours and there's no purpose in getting something else dirty beforehand.

All those things I learned to do as a kid, I'm ignoring. Regardless, I'm still acting like an adult at a pretty high level.

Adulthood is BULLSHIT or, I have a midlife crisis

You, my friend, you have been lied to.

By everyone.

I don't want this to be true, but it is. 

Here's the lie: 

If you work hard and are a good person, everything will be fine. 

Bullshit, my friends. 

Bull. Fucking. Shit.

But people don't say this.

1. Most people don't want to admit that they're running on the hamster wheel of life. 
2. Some people just don't care. 
3. Some people really are happy with where they are and what they've become. note: you can't ask them for the secret because here's the secret- everyone is different. 

Here's how it works:

You bust your ass in school to go to a good college or get a good job. I'm here to tell you not everyone should go to college, but that's another post.

Let's say you choose the college track. You go to college, you incur debt, you graduate. Maybe you don't go into debt you lucky son of a biscuit, but I did.

I laughed so hard I cried. It's funny because it's true.

You work, you realize that the career you chose as an 18 year old who isn't yet old enough to drink legally is not one you want to do for the rest of your sentient days on the earth.

You change fields. Maybe you go back to school. Maybe you become an intern at age 28 because you want to do something else but don't have experience. Maybe you take a job that doesn't even require a degree.

You find a job. You might love it. You might hate it. You keep doing it anyway. 

You keep paying that loan. If you went back to school, you pay on the 2nd one. You realize you'll be in your 50s by the time they are paid off.

Along the way, you may find someone to love. If you do and you are able to make it legal, the first thing people ask is when you're going to have kids.

If you don't find someone to love, you are pressured by everyone, everywhere, all the time, to find that person.


Somewhere along the way you buy a house. Houses are a lot of work, even if they're in good condition. The upkeep can be a little oppressive. You might have an ant problem, little fuckers.

nightmare fodder, right here. 

And then you realize- this is it. This is what I've worked hard for all of my life.

And then you realize- this is it. Is this it? Why is this it? Is there more? Am I an asshole for wanting there to be more? 

This, my friends, is what they call a mid-life crisis. I judge them. I condemn those that call it a crisis. The day I stop questioning all there is the day I die.

Why are we expected to have all these life changes and major upheavals and then suddenly settle down and relax? By the time we figure out how to deal with all the change life throws at us, we are supposed to just peacefully pull weeds and drink tea?

There's no conclusion to this post... not yet. Stay tuned for more on my..


(does that accurately convey irony?)

I'M STILL TEACHING.

This is the time of year when teachers leave their classrooms.

Some for a month or two. Usually they're back in a classroom of some sort for continuing ed over the summer, but it's not their classroom.

Some forever.

The Tough Decision To Leave the Classroom: from I am J Wal

Why I'm Leaving at United Opt Out.com

And Jason Pittman who reached national prominence with his story on This American Life, a year ago.  (PS: a personal note on this- don't talk about him on the TAL page on Facebook or he will send you a private message full of snide remarks about your finances, whether or not your husband makes enough to support your vanity job of teaching, and your actual ability to teach. True story. I'm actually glad this asshole is out of the classroom.)

When thinking about this post, I looked for blogs on why to stay. The best one: Why I Teach. It's not an individual, it's a collection of stories. It's inspirational. 

me, while reading the Why I Teach stories.

Why I Stay: 

I've taught the whole spectrum of students: poor, rich, English speakers, non-English speakers, college level courses to 15 year olds, and during the very next class I've taught 16 year olds reading on a 2nd grade level. 

I've been cried on and spit on. 

I've been swung at and hugged. 

I've been loved and hated. 

I've watched some kids rise and others fall. 

I've cried and laughed with my students. 

I've had wonderful administrators and horrible administrators. 

I've loved and hated my job. 

I've done many things well and I've made epic mistakes. 

Before teaching, I've worked for private businesses, public universities, and government institutions. And I know that I took a pay cut to teach. But I also know that when people say that you are respected in the business world, they are full of shit. I am afforded equal amounts of respect as a teacher as I was doing anything else. 

Not as much as I deserve:  that's how much respect I used to get and it's how much I get today. 

I did not feel more valued as a human outside of teaching. People are more open about their disrespect now- teachers can be openly disrespected, especially by parents. But disrespect is endemic in our society and nothing I did in the non-teaching sector made me feel any more respected. 

Most important than the respect of others, I value myself more highly as a teacher. 

A lot of these blogs about people leaving the classroom mention that they are award winning. I've won an award or two. Mainly I'm award nominated. I don't win a lot of awards. I don't try to. 

Leo feels my pain.

When I was in college, I thought I wanted to work in politics. I did for a while. The rush from campaigning was awesome. The day to day operations were tedious. 

That rush and the lack of it led me to change jobs every 2 years for a while. I decided to go back to school to become a teacher. And now I'm finishing my 9th year teaching, virtual or otherwise. 

It's fun for me. It's a rush. 

Everyday is an election: will they vote to learn? 

Every day I'm the majority whip: you better vote to learn! If you don't know what the whip is, I'm sorry you didn't pay attention in government class. Now go look it up.

Just like the whip, I have strategies. Will they need coddling? Coercion? Threats? Bribes?

Some days I use the right tactics and I win the battle. Some days I don't and I lose the battle. But the battle is not between me and them. I'm on their side. The battle is between me and everything else vying for their attention. 

Friends. Enemies. Parent pressure. Hunger. Abuse. Peer pressure. Violence. Gangs. Family issues. Expectations. Anxiety. Boredom. Technology. Alcohol. Sex. Drugs. Rock & roll. 

Despite losing battles, I win the war every year. 

Do I always follow the rules? You've heard the saying, "All's fair in love and war" ... right? 

I'm going to keep fighting the battles until I am carted off the field. My students will salute me and say that I always fought on their side. 

Nerd guys, jock guys, all kinds of guys. #yesallwomen

There are countless posts about that guy that killed his roommates and then some women because he was involuntarily celibate (his words).

Shooter Leaves Digital Trail - in case you don't have the story.

And then I've read two great responses to this from guys who somewhat identified with the killer:
Overcome Your Programming
Your Princess Is In Another Castle: Misogyny, Entitlement, and Nerds

Let's start at the beginning: To have a good relationship, whether friendship, dating, marriage, whatever, both parties have to be on the same level.

Guys, if you like her more than she likes you, it won't work.
Girls, if you like him more than he likes you, it won't work.

I have been on both ends of this equation. I have really liked a guy (multiple times) who was not at all into me in that way. And I have been really liked by guys who I have not wanted to make out with.

No one is entitled to anything. I didn't realize that the hardest thing to teach my kids is this: your body is your own. No one else's. And when someone says stop, you stop. This is true whether you are arm wrestling or kissing.

As a teacher, I have seen and will continue to see the self-proclaimed "nice guy" who never has a date. I have seen and will continue to see the hot girls that every guy thinks they should go out with.

Not everyone is like this, so read the following with the understanding that I am going to make some generalizations. This is drawn from years of talking with kids who have confided in me about their personal issues.

When a girl likes a guy and he doesn't like her back, her response is to wonder what she did wrong. She wonders: am I too fat? Too skinny? Too tan? Too pale? Too smart? Too dumb? Too blonde? Not blonde enough? And then she sets out to fix those things for him. 

When a guy likes a girl and she doesn't like him in return, his response is to project what he sees as being wrong with her. She's dumb, she's fat, she's a slut, she only wants a rich guy, she's racist. Not all guys, but a lot of guys. Nice guys. Quiet guys. Smart guys. Dumb guys.

Here's the thing: if you complain about your lot in life and don't do anything about it, that is your problem. I hear stories of the nice guys who are so busy complaining and bemoaning their lack of hot girlfriend that they don't realize that the perfectly nice and also attractive girl is willing to date you.

What if that girl set out to fix things for herself? What if she is happy the way she is and she just realized that guy wasn't a good fit for her?

What if that guy set out to fix some things for himself? And what if he realized that he's fine the way he is and that girl just isn't a good fit for him?

When we set realistic expectation for ourselves in other areas of our lives, our peers (usually) don't give us shit. I don't want to be national teacher of the year. I just want to be good at what I do. My friends don't give me shit for that. They don't say that the NTOY people don't know what they're missing. I think George Clooney is attractive. I don't think he's an asshole for not dating me. We're both kind of busy.

I mean. Seriously.

But when people, guys in particular, set reasonable expectations for themselves, their dudebro friends will pile on the shit. The hot girl doesn't know what she's missing, and the perfectly normal, non-supermodel type is desperate.

When girls set reasonable expectations, they're desperate or slutty and that's just bullshit.

Lastly, more than anything else, you should realize that....

There is always, always someone in a similar situation. Quit obsessing. And if you can't quit obsessing, find a professional. 

Goooooooal!

Oh, goals. When you achieve them, it totally feels like this:

Unfortunately, I don't mean this kind of goal. 

I struggle with goal setting. Which I find ironic, since I'm a list maker of the highest caliber. Aren't goals just the culmination of checking off everything on a to-do list?

This is my to do list. It is actually much longer, but you don't need to know that I put things like "water flowers" and "check bank account" on it. .... oops.

Goals are supposed to be specific, measurable, and attainable. I don't remember where I first learned that, but it's true. My problem is that I can't always get all three things into a goal. 

I have a specific fitness goal right now: I want to be able to do an unassisted pull up by my 40th birthday which is only 10 months away (start saving your money for my present). 

I've had a few people cheer me on and a few more tell me not to be disappointed if I don't make it. This goal meets all three goal-setting qualities. My trainer helped me set that goal- she suggested it to me. I did not come up with this goal myself. But when I work out, I can keep this goal in mind. I have worked on some specific exercises to help reach this goal. 

I also have a weight loss goal. It's specific, it's measurable, it's attainable. When I didn't exercise, it was somewhat easy for me to lose weight. I dropped fat and muscle and didn't really know or care. When I started caring about fitness as opposed to weight loss, losing became more difficult. I've dropped 3% body fat in the past 8 months but it has been slow because I have been working on building muscle. It's been hard for me to adjust my thinking about these things. But as I'm writing this, I thought that maybe I should have a body fat goal instead. 

When it comes to work, it's hard to set goals. As a teacher, I'm happy with my job. I don't want to be an administrator. Good lord, no thank you. I like what I do. There is no moving up for me. I love the courses I teach, I love my employer, I am satisfied with the results I get. 

I could try to set a goal such as, "75% of my students will obtain a 3 or better on the AP exam this year." Specific and measurable, but attainable? Only part of it is within my control. I can't force my students to study. I can't control their willingness to complete the coursework. I can't make them focus on this course to the detriment of their other courses. And when 52% of the students taking the test in the entire nation reach that score of a 3, it's pretty hard to say that my students will exceed that by 23%. My students do exceed the national average already. 

I could say, "I'd like to be a better teacher." Specific, attainable, but what is the measurement? Is it those test scores? Also, what exactly goes into being a better teacher? Going back to school? All that would do for me is give me more work that isn't specific to teaching my course. It would take me away from my family which would stress me out and that would not make me a better teacher. 

For goals regarding my home life, I have one: declutter. Specific, not at all measurable, and considering I live with 3 male pack rats, not very attainable. I'm trying to remove one item per day that I don't use or need. Yesterday was the first day and so far I've been successful. I'm also spotting other things to remove. For now I'm sticking with one a day, though. 

What about you? Do you have any goals that you'd like to share? Has goal setting improved your life? 

I'm Judging You. (not you, personally, but that other person)

If You Let Your Teenage Daughter Sleep In On A School Day - at the New Yorker

I cannot handle this. I. CANNOT.

I get that it's supposed to be a joke about the children's book If You Give A Mouse A Cookie.
I get it.

I'm judging this twofold.

1. As a parent. Don't let your punk-ass daughter sleep in on a school day. If she does, she's sick, and she stays home, in bed, all day. That's it. Full stop. You take her to lunch? You get her a haircut? Fuck no. That's what the weekend is for. Mom, you are a fucking pushover. You are a pathetic excuse for a parent.

I get it- she had lacrosse til all hours and then stayed up doing her homework. Her boyfriend broke up with her and she cried all night. Her best friend bought the same prom dress in a different color and a size smaller and now they're not speaking. Not only am I a mom now, but I was a teenage girl once. A horrible, awful, unbearably dramatic teenage girl.

And you know what I learned? Shit happens. But unless you are sick, you get your ass out of bed and go to school. That's how it works. You get your sorry ass to school.


2. As a teacher. I would bet this mom calls her daughter on her phone while she knows the daughter is in class and then when the daughter gets in trouble, the mom makes excuses. Then she talks shit about the teacher so the kid has no respect for the teacher- if there was any to begin with.

Please, mom, teach your daughter that education is important. That responsibilities and obligations are important. That if she's tired, she should go to bed earlier. If stuff happens, you're tired for a day, and then you take a nap when you get home. That if you prioritize, you can work on your essay over the course of 3 days instead of working on it 7 hours in one night.

Mom, teach your daughter how to be a reliable, responsible, valuable member of society. That's your job. I'm going to help you do that, but I can't do it alone. You have to show her how important it is.

Dress Codes and Shorts

This is my opinion. Agree, disagree, I don't care. Thoughtful interaction welcome. Wild flaming of original poster or commenters not welcome.

There's a lot of news out there about student dress codes. And there's a lot of writing under the feminist banner about how girls should be allowed to wear shorts as short as they want because it's not their job to dress so they don't distract boys.

I get that, I really do. Girls, you do you. Dress how you want. I mean, good lord almighty, for three years I was a woman in her mid 30s wearing booty shorts and skating derby in front of people. And I did not give the tiniest damn about what they thought of my butt.

However, I do not wear booty shorts at work. And kids, school is your job. One of the things that teachers study in their education prep (or at least I did) was the hidden curriculum.

http://edglossary.org/hidden-curriculum/   Hidden curriculum refers to the unwritten, unofficial, and often unintended lessons, values, and perspectives that students learn in school. While the “formal” curriculum consists of the courses, lessons, and learning activities students participate in, as well as the knowledge and skills educators intentionally teach to students, the hidden curriculum consists of the unspoken academic, cultural, and social messages that are communicated to students while they are in school.

The hidden curriculum is important. Sometimes the hidden curriculum is detrimental. If you go to the edglossary.org link, you can see examples of when the hidden curriculum is a problem because it reinforces social, economic, and social problems that may be endemic in a community.

However, the hidden curriculum can be beneficial. Schools are organized in a way that promote positive social interactions. High schools are the last step for many students on their way to their career. While some students will not go on to a professional white-collar work environment after they leave school, many of them will. Every student needs to learn how to behave in a professional environment.

I wish I could tell you that you're going to go out into the world and not be judged. But you are. And for both men and women alike, if you dress in a professional manner, people will more highly value what you do and what you say. I might have been just a kid in a suit, but for two years, I was a kid in a suit who had the ear of a Congressman. For two more years, I had the ear of the Vice Chair of the County Commission in one of the most populous counties in the US. And for two more years, I oversaw the yearly spending of more than half a million dollars in university funding on alumni programming.

I don't do any of those things anymore- for the past ten years I have had the ears of approximately 130 high school students a year plus my own two kids. But to me, the ears attached to more than a thousand young, developing heads, are far more important than the previous ears. Because the impact these kids will make is greater than that of the Congressman, or Commission, or alumni association.

And that is why I am here to tell you that dressing in a manner that adequately portrays what's inside your head is important. Don't let how you look distract from the importance of the message you are sending. I don't wake up every morning excited to once again oppress teenage boys and girls. I wake up excited to expand their minds and to learn more from them every day. I wake up hoping that whatever I am bringing to those students to engage with will light a spark of interest and ignite their curiosity in some aspect of the world around them.

I have heard complaints from female students who say it's too hot and I don't understand. Considering that I'm in the same building that you are in for an even longer period of time, I'm pretty sure I do understand. I like shorts.  Of all my body parts, I think I have some pretty outstanding legs. I'd love to wear shorts to school. But I don't, because it's not professional. Because my employer would warn me, then fire me.

I have heard complaints saying from female students saying that it's sexist toward females. I am 100% certain that if boys wore short shorts there would be rules against that, too. Dress code rules about keeping your pants pulled up and your underwear not showing are aimed toward males. I enforce keeping your pants pulled up and your shorts past fingertip length equally.

When you go to the beach, do not wear school appropriate clothing. Wear tiny bathing suits. Be proud of your body.

When you go to your job, do not wear school appropriate clothing. Dress for your job whether you are a camp counselor and your job is wearing and applying bug repellent all day, mowing lawns, or scooping ice cream.

I am not saying:

• Dress like a clone
• Dress like a 40 year old
• Wear a uniform
• The 1950s were great
• Girls should be oppressed
• Style is for suckers
• Wear clothing that is too big

I am saying: 

• Dress appropriately for your environment
• When school is out, wear whatever fits your environment
• Your teachers are not thinking about sex if they ask you to pull your pants up (males) or your shorts/skirts down at the bottom (females)
• Dress in your own style

It is possible that rules exist because your teachers and administrators care about you and want you to succeed in school and in life. 

...and then you have a garden.

I always thought gardening was this bucolic, back to nature thing that I would do, and little bluebirds would alight in my hair as my tulips sprung from the ground in an array of Monet-like watercolors.

It did not turn out that way at all.

Once upon a time, we bought this wee little house. It had wee little gardens. I planted stuff. It grew. Sort of. I didn't do a great job. Because here's the thing that they don't tell you- you have to work at it all the fucking time.

The really pretty flowers, the ones that look like, you know, flowers, only last for one year. Those are your annuals. You have to plant new ones every year. Every year.

This is NOT my house.

The method I employ is the I-don't-want-to-spend-a-thousand-dollars-every-spring-on-flowers method. Also known as the "Is this a perennial?" method.

These are hostas. I don't love them, but they are perennials, they are large, and they take up space.

After the wee house, we moved to South Carolina. We lived in an apartment, no gardening, life was good. But we had the itch of the American dream, and bought a house. Gardening ensued. I tried to grow some zucchini, but it didn't work out. I grew a wisteria in a ridiculously successful way and it smelled amazing. I wanted to put rock down as my sort of mulch, but as it turns out, rocks hold heat, and that bakes your plants. So I bought some plants that were good in the desert, and those worked out for me. I asked a lot of questions at a lot of places that sold plants.

Then we moved to Virginia, and rented a house. It was a new house, it was a rental, there was no landscaping to keep up. Laziness ruled the day.

Then we bought our current house, the money pit with an amazing view. Seriously, it's an amazing view. Anyway, the money pit has a yard to end all yards. It's a damn big yard. Luckily, I do not mow. That is Agent N's job as of last year. He gets paid when he does it.

There is so much landscaping. Some is in the sun. Some is part sun. Some is shady. If you are new to the gardening game, you should know that different plants grow in different amounts of sun. Some grow in shade. Some need a lot of sun. Some like both.

Then there's the vegetable garden. I like zucchini and yellow squash. Also basil. Year one- I thought I'd grow some. I grew some, I was moderately successful. My garden was kind of full of weeds, though. I'm not much for weeding. The landscaping looked like shit. I didn't even know what I was doing, and I didn't know what was there before, so I let stuff grow to figure out if it was good. We put down so much mulch. Mulch is heavy. It's supposed to cut back on the weeds, but be warned, it does not do the whole job. You will still have to pull weeds.

I use this to weed- it helps you get the roots out.

I spent a large portion of the fall cutting back bushes that ran away with themselves, and digging out an enormous amount of some sort of plant that grew taller than me. That's not a joke.

Year two, the plant that was taller than me came back, but there was slightly less of it. We put down more mulch. We rented a tiller for the garden. I grew a ton of zucchini, squash, some beans, and a few tomatoes. I tried to grow spinach, but it never grew. Not even a little bit. I successfully split some hostas. I planted some groundcover that didn't do so well. I was kind of pissed. I had put it a shit ton (technical term) of work that did not pay off. Because motherfucking gardening never ends. I still spend the fall cutting back bushes, but at least this time I knew it was going to happen.

I had this vision of sitting back on the deck with a sweet tea and admiring my work. NOPE.

Year three (present day):  This year, I bought a hand tiller for $30 compared to last year's $70 rental. How hard could it be? 2 hours of tilling the garden by hand and I was sweating more than when I work out. But it's already paid for itself because it's cheaper, I guess. I planted spinach this year because it's a superfood and I eat it every day. It's actually growing. The groundcover I planted last year is already growing, despite the winter of doom. The hostas need to be split again. The bushes already need to be cut back. I may or may not have killed the holly bush by cutting it too far back, but those leaves hurt like a son of a bitch so go ahead and die, asshole bush. I dug out the ugly rosebush in front of the house. The hydrangea I planted last year is coming back in a big way. The weeds bigger than me are slightly less this year. I'm pretty sure I won't get rid of them completely without a flamethrower.

All that, done. It's not even June.

The stupid garden, it's growing on me (see what I did there?).