Preparation and Sleep Deprivation

In 12 hours I have an interview for my dream job.  The position is all about history which I love and it is in the big city where my sweet guy lives.  I have done my nails and planned out my hair.  I have my outfit planned to the last detail.  I printed extra copies of my resume.  I even cleaned out my purse.  Why, I don't know.  I wrote down some questions I can ask during the interview and I also jotted down a few responses to potential questions.  The only one I'm dreading is "Why did you leave the teaching field?".  That's the one where I have to go ahead and tell them I've had health issues because my attendance record is not the greatest.  I have some other things to add to it, but I just know that's the question that will make me stutter.  My portfolio is ready.  My alarms, yes plural, are set.  I can't sleep.  I really haven't eaten much today.  Those two things will be so helpful when I'm trying to sound intelligent tomorrow. Ha!  I don't think I've ever been this nervous about an interview.  If y'all pray, please pray I get this job!  I'm going to attempt to go to sleep and hope I don't puke in the morning! 

Generation Z, I, M, or Whatever You Want to Call Them

After reading my almost sister's post, I'm a Realist, I decided to make a few statements of my own about the current generation of children.  Before anyone starts reading this and gets offended, please remember that this is my opinion and you don't have to agree.  People don't agree with me all the time!  Big freaking deal.

I was raised similarly to Cely.  My parents told me I was smart and pretty.  However, my parents did NOT think I was THE smartest, cutest, or best child ever.  They told me I could accomplish realistic goals with hard work.  I was never told I'd be famous or anything like that.  When I started sixth grade my parents attended open house.  We were in the gym listening to the P.E. coach.  When she finished talking about all the activities we'd be required to do, my mother raised her hand and said, "What if our child is not, umm, athletically inclined?"  My parents were fully aware of my strengths and weaknesses.

My boyfriend's son is often saying how awesome he is at things.  He's mentioned several times that he is "awesome at football!".  My boyfriend then reminds is son that he does pretty well, but he isn't necessarily awesome.  He tells his son that he has a lot of work to do before he can say he is awesome at football.  I like that.  He doesn't discourage his son, but he also isn't filling his head with a bunch of garbage.  He wants to keep his son grounded.

I was a teacher for the past seven years and it seems today's parents and children are often not realistic about the child's strengths and weaknesses.  I have quite a few stores about "perfect children" and the parents that told them this crap.  First of all, no one is perfect.  You aren't Jesus.  Your kid isn't Jesus.

I've had kids repeatedly tell me they weren't going to pick up trash off the floor because "that's what the janitor is for".  I informed them that the janitor's job was to vacuum, dust, empty trash cans, clean boards and desks, etc., NOT pick up the kids' mess.  I had to call a parent one day and inform her of her child's behavior and why he was getting an office referral.  The mother said, "I'm not calling you a liar, but my child wouldn't do that."  Riiight. You aren't calling me a liar, but I must be lying.  I had a mother complain to the principal one year because I was talking to my students about preparing for college.  This was a Pre-AP class where the goal IS college.  She said I was putting too much pressure on them as middle school students.  My principal said, "Ma'am, when would you like for us to start preparing them for college?"  She didn't have an answer to that.

Last year I was sitting at my desk in my classroom.  It was the last day of the 9-week grading period.  Grades were due before lunch, so I had turned mine in as it was already afternoon.  A mother walked into my classroom with her daughter.  She had checked her grades online and saw that her daughter had a C.  The mother asked if there was anything her daughter could do to bring up her grade.  I replied that I had already turned grades in and that it was the last day of the 9-weeks.  I also explained that her child had several late assignments and that she had failed an open-note test and chose not to do corrections to raise her grade.  The mother then explained that her daughter would be in big trouble if she got a C and again asked if I could change her grade.  Again, I said it was the last day of the grading period and that her daughter should have come to me before today.  I didn't bend on this one and the mother kept saying that her daughter would be in big trouble at home if she got a C.

Here's what baffles me.  This mother was trying to save the daughter from her own rule!  I'm not the one who said she wasn't allowed to get Cs!  She imposed a rule on her child and then didn't want to follow through and be the bad guy.  She didn't say anything to her child about why she hadn't turned in assignments on time or why she didn't do test corrections.

A few years ago I was teaching at a school in a nicer area of town.  Most of the students were upper-middle class.  I was teaching a gifted and talented history class.  As I'm giving what I felt was a particularly moving lesson on slavery, I see two girls passing notes.  I picked up the notes and they were griping about why they had to learn this.  One girl said she was going to be a model and the other said she was going to be a doctor and both had written that they didn't need to know about history or slavery for either profession.  Interestingly enough, one of the girls was African-American.  It took everything I had not to go off on these two.  Instead I kept them after class and talked to them.  I told the one who wanted to be a doctor that she had to have good grades in ALL classes to be a doctor, including history.  I told the one who wanted to be a model that she better have a back-up plan and get an education because modeling only lasts so long and what if she didn't make it at all.

One year I had a particularly rowdy class at the same school.  This group of kids are the ones who think they can do no wrong.  They were always talking about being pro-athletes or famous musicians or things like that.  So one day I'm up teaching and they just wouldn't listen.  I'd repeatedly told them to be quiet. One kid piped up that he didn't need to worry about this stuff because he was going to play pro-basketball.  I snapped!  This is where I went all Bad Teacher on them.  I closed my book and I looked around the room.  I said, "Guys, I'm about to kill your dreams."  I proceeded to tell them that they weren't all going to be famous, that maybe one out of the 700 in their entire school would end up famous and it probably wouldn't be them.  I told them they better have a back-up plan, so they could get a real job.  The next Michael Jordan was not sitting in this classroom.  They weren't going to be a rock star.  Then I went on to tell them they would have a hard time making it in the real world with their current attitudes.  I told them if they behaved at a job the way they behaved in a classroom, they'd be fired.  I told them if I talked to my principal the way they talked to me, they'd be fired.  Then I went around the room pointing at the particularly obnoxious ones and said, "You're fired!  You're fired!  You're fired!"  I told them why they'd be fired too.  I told these kids what all they would need money for and how they better pay attention in class, so they had good enough grades to get into college because without a degree, they wouldn't get a good enough job to be able to afford those nice things they were used to.  I went home that afternoon just knowing that I'd be getting calls from parents the next day, but I didn't care.  I felt like these kids were setting themselves up for major disappointment down the road and that maybe I had gotten through to at least one. 

So here's the point. Parents, please teach your children realism.  Please tell them that they will have to work hard for most things in their life.  Please don't set them up for major disappointment.  You can't go to college with them and save them from that mean professor.  You can't go to their first job with them and save them from that evil boss.  Teach them that not everyone will like them.  Teach them that they won't always be the best at something.  Let them stumble and fall sometimes, so they know how to get back up.

I'm in a Great Relationship, so Can I Stop Freaking Out Now?

I ran across this great post on The Frisky by Dater X.  It summed up how I feel in my relationship so well! The only major difference is that there is no Thai food in my small down.  There's no delivery period, so I always make a stop at the store for a pint of ice cream.  Enjoy! 

Last Thursday, I prepared myself for what I thought would be a big milestone in my relationship with The Young One. His older sister—who serves double duty as his best friend—was visiting and I was going to meet her for the first time over dinner. That morning, I rummaged through my closet, trying to find the perfect ensemble to project a cool-yet-wholesome image. Over lunch, I brainstormed restaurants with my co-workers, hoping to find a place that felt special and laid-back at the same time—a true reflection of me. All afternoon I felt on a high that I was about to meet my first member of The Young One’s family—the one he was closest to, no less. Visions of his sister and I becoming besties danced in my head.

But as late afternoon rolled around, I hadn’t heard from The Young One. He remembers dinner tonight, right? I thought before spiraling into another thought. What if he’s changed his mind about introducing me to his sister?

I sent him a text message asking him what time he wanted to meet. For a half hour, it was easy to justify the fact that The Young One hadn’t responded to my text. Maybe they’re on the subway? I thought. Or at a museum where they have to turn off their cell phones?

But soon, time began to warp. Every minute I didn’t hear from The Young One seemed to stretch on far too long. A strange sensation took hold of my stomach and tingled more and more as each moment passed. Here it comes. He’s blowing me off, I thought. I can’t believe he doesn’t want me to meet his sister! Why did he even suggest it if he wasn’t ready?

I watched my co-workers shut down their computers and leave. It was 7 p.m. and I still hadn’t heard from The Young One. I was in full-scale panic mode. Luckily, my friend logged on to IM and I pinged her. “You had dinner plans and you still haven’t heard from him?” she said as I explained the situation. “Oh man, that isn’t a good sign.”

Just then, my phone buzzed with a text. It was The Young One. “So sorry,” it read. “Dinner isn’t going to work out tonight.”

It was as if he’d just confirmed my worst fears—he wasn’t ready to introduce me to a member of his family. I related the text to my friend on IM. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “But he didn’t give any kind of explanation? That’s not good.”

I knew his sister was only in town for another day and a half. “If he lets her leave without meeting me—that’s it. We’re done!” I said to my friend. “I don’t want to be with anyone who has any kind of reservations about me.”

I went home, ordered Thai food, and cried.

Later that night, I got an important lesson: it’s not always about you.

At 11 p.m., The Young One called. He explained this his sister’s boyfriend of three years had broken up with her over the phone that morning and said he was moving out of the apartment they shared. The Young One apologized profusely about not communicating with me about what was going on earlier in the day. He said he’d been so focused on his sister that he wasn’t paying attention to his phone. It had slipped his mind that we had made plans. It wasn’t at all that he was having doubts about introducing me to his big sister—it was that she was having flash crying attacks and didn’t feel up to meeting me.

I felt relieved. And also totally ridiculous. Sadly, this isn’t the first freak out of this magnitude that I’ve had during my six-month relationship with The Young One. There was the time, maybe a month and half in, when I didn’t hear from him for 36 hours. “I’m obviously never going to hear from him again,” I panicked to my friend. Yeah, I did. Then there was the time maybe two months later when again, he went AWOL for a day and a half after we’d had a fight. “It’s over,” I braced myself. Yeah, it wasn’t. Not even slightly.

Somehow, when I was single, I imagined that being in a relationship was going to be all daffodils and teacup piglets. I forgot how difficult it can be to get on—and stay on—the same page with another person, who has different ideas on how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich let alone how communication in a relationship should work, through the twists and turns of everyday life. Being in a new relationship, I’ve been shocked to learn something about myself: I’m not so great at trusting that I’m loved. When I’m with The Young One, I’m fine. But when we’re apart, minor things can send me spiraling. Sometimes I feel like one of those people on an airplane who ducks and covers, preparing for a crash landing when there’s only a slight touch of turbulence.

I’m finding it strange that so much of the drama in my relationship happens solely in my head. Now, I know I wasn’t always like this. My last relationship was with someone who didn’t show me half the affection or intensity of feelings that The Young One does and I didn’t constantly worry that we were hitting the skids. Something about being single for so long changed my ability to relax in a relationship. When I was single, I established this pattern with men: Go out with guy. We like each other. We begin intense fling with grand declarations of feelings. Then one day, seemingly out of the blue, he disappears. Having several guys over time pull fade outs—well, to use psychospeak, I think it’s given me some abandonment issues.

A few months back, Beth described this phenomenon as Post-Traumatic Dating Disorder. I think she is onto something and could make a million if she wrote a self-help book on how to conquer it. Several of my friends who are also in new relationships are experiencing the exact same thing. Something about dating and seeing how hot can turn so quickly into cold makes it very hard to believe that someone’s feelings for you won’t just … change.

Now, the dating adage goes: you have to love yourself before anyone else can love you. So some of you who have not experienced this might be reading and thinking, “Wow, she has low self-esteem.” But I don’t think that is what this is about. I love myself and truth be told, think I’m pretty awesome and know that I am a 10 on all levels. But here’s the problem—I’ve had a pattern of experiences where another person didn’t see that. I’ve seen in action that just because you are amazing doesn’t necessarily mean that another person will be able to recognize that. Or that you are the specific brand of amazing that they are looking for.

When you are dating, you generally don’t know exactly how someone feels about you. And so you begin to take the minutiae of their behavior as signals. He texted twice today? Ding, ding, ding! He likes you. He called to make plans for the weekend? Woo hoo hoo! You are in.` You haven’t heard from him in a few days? Uh-oh. He made a date for Monday instead of Saturday? Sorry, he’s just not that into you. Wait, you had to call him? You’re barking up the wrong tree.

The difference here is that I know that The Young One loves me—he says it all the time and shows me it in so many way. But somehow, I’m still using checklists to assure me that it’s true. I’m looking for the things I’ve been told are “signs” that he is serious about me—introductions to friends, being taken to a work event, being called his “girlfriend,” meeting the family—rather than listening and hearing him say that, yes, he is. All it comes down to is that everyone has different ideas about how/when to incorporate a new significant other into their life.

Naturally, I told my therapist about my big sister-dinner-meltdown of last week. She said something really interesting: “This is not about whether the relationship works out or not—you can’t know that yet. This is about you learning how to be in a healthy relationship.” Truly, this is something I need some practice in. So I’ve brainstormed some ways that I can ease myself through freak outs, if I ever have one again. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

• Focus on what was said rather than on how long ago it was said and who started the conversation. I need to stop counting hours between communication and taking the time elapsed as something meaningful. Instead, I’m going to remember the content. Did he remember something that was going on in my life? Tell me something that was going on in his? Did he say he loved me? Yeah, trust that. Also, I realize that while dating, I stopped feeling comfortable initiating communication with guys. Instead, I waited to see how long it would take them to contact me—again, to judge how they were feeling. And that is ridiculous. If I want to talk to The Young One, I can place the call, write the text, or send the email myself.
• Keep a relationship diary. I have never been one to keep a journal, but a friend suggested to me that every night, in a notebook, I write down a highlight of the day involving The Young One—just a sentence or two about a fun thing we did together, a nice email he sent, or a sweet thing he said/did. And she’s right. Having that on paper has been so helpful anytime I’m feeling insecure because I can look back and see that, duh, I am loved here.
• Watch the spiraling. If there is a dip in communication, it may well be a sign that something is up. But I need to stop jumping from “problem” to “it’s over.” As my therapist noted, part of a new relationship is building a track record as a couple of being able to work through issues. Problems do not mean the end of the world—they’re a chance to test how good we are at communicating and how well we’ll work long term because, let’s face it, life can be full of road bumps.
• Just enjoy it. Enough said, right?

The biggest thing for me to remember is that you can’t really brace for a crash landing. Is there a chance that me and The Young One won’t work out? Of course there is. If that happens, it’s going to hurt no matter what. I won’t necessarily be able to see it coming. I can’t insulate myself from it. I can’t pre-empt it by deciding “we’re done” without talking to him when I’m upset about something. The bottom line is that love is a risk and with relationships, there are no guarantees. But being able to look that fear in the face and still leap—well, that’s what makes love so sublime.

So, talk to me. Have you ever experienced anything like this? If so, what gets you through it?

Sorry I’ve been so MIA lately. Have you guys missed me? If you ever want to email me, hit me up at imdaterx@gmail.com. And I promise to check in once a month or so from here on out. Really.

Some Things Never Change

Let me share a memory with you...

My family was sitting at the kitchen table in our usual spots- me, my younger brother, and my parents.  My mother cooked a typical week night meal. We had already said the blessing and I was trying to tell my parents about my day.  My brother informed me that I was bothering him.  Basically he didn't like my tone and said I was grouchy or something, so I tried changing my tone. Then he told me to stop "singing" to him, like I was being overly cheerful.  He then proceeded to imitate me and say everything in a sing-song way.  I told him to quit, but it continued.  I told him to quit again!  He then tells me that I'm being a baby and need to grow up.  Being the emotional person that I am, I started crying.  At that point he told me to go somewhere else and cry.  We started arguing about the fact that he wasn't going to tell me what to do.  Then he got ticked off, pushed his plate away, and left the table.  This whole time my parents were just staring at us like we HAD to belong to some other family. 

Sounds like a typical adolescent argument, right?  Take a wild guess as to how long ago this happened.  Yep, it was last week.  Some things never change!

IIH/Pseudotumor Cerebri Promise

I've been feeling pretty down about my health lately and came across this on a Facebook support group page.


I promise to accept the fact that I have PTC, a neurological disorder which will limit my abilities in my every day life.

While I will always have PTC, some days will be good, and some days will be bad. I will be thankful for the good days and try to make the most of them. When I am having a bad day, I will try to remember that most likely it will not last.

When I am having a bad day, I will listen to my body, and get the rest that I need. I will let my family know that I am not feeling well, because they cannot read my mind.

I will not feel guilty about resting, because I will eventually begin to feel better, and in the long run, it will also benefit my family. They will not become malnourished if they eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner.

I will not feel guilty or worry about the work that is not getting done while I am resting. The world will not fall apart without me, even though it looks like it already has.

I will not let anyone else make me feel guilty for taking time out for myself. They will never understand exactly what I am experiencing, the pain I feel, the exhaustion that I feel. They will never understand the fear that I feel when my symptoms creep up on me, and land me flat on my back.

I promise not to feel sorry for myself when I am feeling bad, because there are a lot of people out there who are in worse shape than I am. I will not be sorry for what I don't have, but be thankful for what I do have.

I promise to learn a lesson from my illness, which is not to take life for granted. I will try to enjoy every moment that was given to me, and be thankful for the times I can smile and laugh.

I will try to help others who also suffer from my condition. There are many confused and frightened people who need to hear comforting words from someone who has been there. There are many people who need me to take his or her hand, and be pointed in the right direction.

Lastly, I will not ask "Why me?" While PTC has weakened my physical body, it has strengthened my heart, my soul, and my spirit.

Sheila Reilly

Never Trust a Man Who Says Trust Me

"Never trust a man who says trust me."  I received these words of advice at my high school graduation party about thirteen years ago.  As a rule, I have always been very trusting except when it came to salesmen and guys hitting on me or my friends.  Once I was in a relationship with someone though, I trusted them completely.  I trusted my friends just as much.  I know I can trust my family.

Somewhere along the line though, I got burned one too many times.  Too many guys lied to me.  Too many people let me down.  I stopped trusting.  I trust a handful of people that are my family or I consider family.  The rest I listen to, then take their words and actions, and analyze them to death.  I'm always on the lookout for someone trying to use me or take advantage of me.  As you can imagine, this is not a pleasant way to exist.

Now I've reached a point where I want to be able to trust people again.  I want to trust my boyfriend.  I want to trust new friends.  I just don't know how.  How do I let go and not be so afraid of getting burned again?  That's what it all boils down to, I don't trust people because I don't want to let people hurt me anymore.  I realize though that I'll never really have a strong relationship without trust.  I need help with this one.  How do I let down my guard and learn to trust again?

Penicillin is Magic

Penicillin, oh how I love thee!  After two days of taking these magic beans, I am now able to eat again.  Thank you, Jesus!  It's kind of scary because I want to eat everything in sight!  Every kind of food I can think of sounds like heaven.  I still can't eat things like chips and salsa.  Even super mild salsa burns like there's no tomorrow, but at least I can eat somethings.  Basically, my mouth has completely new skin that is still pretty fragile.  Ice cream feels amazing though, so life is pretty good right. 

I haven't really done a thing this week.  I'm still waiting on my new laptop to come in, so I can apply for the work from home jobs.  I'm waiting on a claim with my short term disability insurance and I'm waiting on Saturday to get here so I can spend time with the boyfriend :)  In other words, I'm waiting, not so patiently, as usual.