Thursday, May 24, 2012
Engine House 14
Billy and I walked through the alley, cutting through Beverly's yard and then across the street to Engine House 14. Daisy's class took a walking field trip to see the fire station. Their teacher has them all convinced (as she is convinced) that fire houses are THE BEST FIELD TRIPS EVER. And in some ways, they are pretty cool. It's a mystery that's solved, a tangible career made even more visible (they put out fires, they rescue people, they respond to emergencies. Compare that to "project manager" or "assistant to the CFO" or some other classification).
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
First Communion
Catching up on a bunch of stuff around here. First communion was several weeks ago but here are the pictures! Daisy, in the same dress Fiona wore a few years back:
It was made by Janet at Heirloom Embroidery, when I was looking for a dress that didn't look like something you'd wear to your quinceanera.
Here, Fr. Miguel gives a homily to Daisy and her fellow first communicant, all by themselves on the steps to the sanctuary. The bishop had him slated to talk about the annual appeal (money) but he wanted to be sure to include the girls. This was the best way. The best.
Daisy with Miss Bridget from school. At the party afterwards, I looked around and was stunned by how many strong women have taken Daisy into their hearts--Bridget, two sisters from the parish, her godmother, and so on. It's really heartening.
Here's Daisy again with Fr. Miguel after mass was finished. I love that vestment. Note that the veil is gone. It worked so well in Fiona's hair and NOT in Daisy's.
It's all so sweet and cute. She didn't throw up in the pew (at the second reading she looked at me like maybe it was coming). She did well. All was well. And there was lemon cake.
Here, Fr. Miguel gives a homily to Daisy and her fellow first communicant, all by themselves on the steps to the sanctuary. The bishop had him slated to talk about the annual appeal (money) but he wanted to be sure to include the girls. This was the best way. The best.
Daisy with Miss Bridget from school. At the party afterwards, I looked around and was stunned by how many strong women have taken Daisy into their hearts--Bridget, two sisters from the parish, her godmother, and so on. It's really heartening.
Printmaking with small children
1.Use meat/vegetable trays. Do not, for obvious reasons, use cutting tools. Meat trays are styrofoam, and therefore easy to cut into with a sharp pencil or a bamboo skewer. They also do not last forever but you get several prints out of each one.
2. Go slow. The first week, we made our blocks (this was a part of a radial symmetry lesson along with Islamic tile art) and did a test print in black ink. The second week, they were given colored ink to work with. The third week they combined colors on the brayers (alas, only one of my classes got to do a third week because Daisy got a fever on the third week for her class and we moved on to other things the following week).
3. Have other things for them to do if the class is large. Daisy's class is a 1st-3rd grade class of 31 students. They can't all print at the same time. So we had a station for children to color intricate snowflake designs and a station to create their own radial symmetry designs using pattern blocks. A fourth station (besides printing) was to color in previous prints from the week before.
4. Hover like a hawk the first week and make sure they know how to use a brayer. And then the second week, give them more freedom--let them measure out ink, for instance. The third week be a support person.
5. Constructive criticism regarding design elements, if done well, will make them happier with their results in the end. If their lines are too faint or too detailed, with meat trays, they will be disappointed. Bold designs.
7. Stress the idea that perfection is not the goal in printmaking--that the artist's hand is very visible in this medium. Inking errors are not necessarily errors. True errors (shifted plates for instance) can ben redone, but faded or bleeding colors, while not what the original goal may have been, are still beautiful art.
Art: Byzantine Mosaics
Continuing the theme of art history in the lower elementary, we learned about the Hagia Sophia mosaics and then created our own mosaic designs using a variety of materials (wrapping paper, construction paper, magazines). Here they are, halfway through the process. Don't you love that Mario? And the second one, although words weren't supposed to be a part of it, I love because the girl who made it is obsessed with Tip and Spot (a cat and dog from a reading series, perhaps?). The fact that she found a page in a National Geographic with those words is just awesome.
Art: Kindergarten color theory
I started teaching art in kindergarten a few months ago when the lead teacher went on maternity leave. She's back, but I'm still there helping out. I've been focusing on color. We did rainbows and coffee filter prints and several other fun things. Here, they colored tissue paper with a primary color marker, and then were given the choice of a bordering secondary color (for instance, if they used yellow, they could then use green or orange) to paint dots with a matchstick. These then, later, hung in page protectors from the ceiling pipes to catch the light.
Roman Coins Lesson
I'm catching up with some older art projects. In my lower elementary class (1st-3rd) we made coins. I used Stephanie's plan here on her "Make it a wonderful life" blog. Hers are large and beautiful--mine are smaller and more poorly photographed. But in person they worked really well. I had lots of interesting coins. The basics:
1. They each received a cardboard circle and a piece of paper. They traced the cardboard circle twice on the paper and designed their coin. They had to do a face on one side, like Roman coins (and most coins), but the other side could be anything. I had trees and cats and fire trucks and snakes and flowers and so forth.
2. After designing, they colored the back of the paper with crayon to make a crayon transfer onto the cardboard (like making a carbon copy). They went over the original lines with a sharp pencil to transfer the image onto the cardboard. Yes, we could have just drawn onto the cardboard but I wanted to teach the skill as well--transfer can be useful later in life.
3. Then I took them home and put glue on them. I used Aileen's craft glue.
4. The next week, they smoothed foil over each side, using a thin layer of glue stick to hold the foil in place. They made sure to get the details from the glue.
5. They came over to me or to one of the other teachers and we put shoe polish on them. They counted to 60 (or maybe it was 120 I can't recall) and then we wiped it off together.
Like I said,these photos are not the most spectacular, nor are they all the coins we did. My favorite is the tree down towards the bottom of this set, but many of them worked quite well.
1. They each received a cardboard circle and a piece of paper. They traced the cardboard circle twice on the paper and designed their coin. They had to do a face on one side, like Roman coins (and most coins), but the other side could be anything. I had trees and cats and fire trucks and snakes and flowers and so forth.
2. After designing, they colored the back of the paper with crayon to make a crayon transfer onto the cardboard (like making a carbon copy). They went over the original lines with a sharp pencil to transfer the image onto the cardboard. Yes, we could have just drawn onto the cardboard but I wanted to teach the skill as well--transfer can be useful later in life.
3. Then I took them home and put glue on them. I used Aileen's craft glue.
4. The next week, they smoothed foil over each side, using a thin layer of glue stick to hold the foil in place. They made sure to get the details from the glue.
5. They came over to me or to one of the other teachers and we put shoe polish on them. They counted to 60 (or maybe it was 120 I can't recall) and then we wiped it off together.
Like I said,these photos are not the most spectacular, nor are they all the coins we did. My favorite is the tree down towards the bottom of this set, but many of them worked quite well.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Hope, worry, more hope,
Our school has decided to let parents do fundraising to hire an art teacher next year. It started as a campaign to hire me to be the art teacher next year, but that gets sticky since we're a public school and precedence gets set and then suddenly parents are running the school--off a cliff, I mean.
The school is still so new, still getting its sea legs, and arts funding, like in many places, takes a back seat to things that are nuts and bolts to running a school--mortgage, utilities, classroom teacher salaries and supplies, and anything that gets tested on a high-stakes state exam. Art is fluffier than that, it's kind of an extra in many folks' minds. But our parent community likes art.
So I wrote up a proposal, to create a parent group that raises money for art in the classroom. And I've tailored it around what I would want, since we don't have much money or much time and we wouldn't be able to hire someone, say, full time and salaried what that would cost. It's very small. Very. But it's enough to pay for Billy's preschool tuition, if it works out.
I have to apply, of course, and write up a proposal. I've already written one out, but I have a few things I want to change and refine before I submit it for real. I'm trying to not be nervous. I keep saying to Jake, or to a few teachers I know at the school: "What if I do all this work, what if we all do all this work, and someone comes out of the woodwork and gets the job?" And then there's always some eye-rolling or sighing and the person I'm talking to tells me to get a grip.
But what if. I just get nervous. I worry. I like things set. Just so. I like to have some control, some predictability to my life. It's late May and the fundraising happens over the summer and what if? What if we don't manage to raise enough? What if someone with 15 years experience and a gallery show applies to work for a nun's salary teaching 6 hours a week?
Then I go back and read some text messages. I think about conversations and assurances. There are no guarantees. But I have hope that it'll work out.
And then I start worrying again.
The school is still so new, still getting its sea legs, and arts funding, like in many places, takes a back seat to things that are nuts and bolts to running a school--mortgage, utilities, classroom teacher salaries and supplies, and anything that gets tested on a high-stakes state exam. Art is fluffier than that, it's kind of an extra in many folks' minds. But our parent community likes art.
So I wrote up a proposal, to create a parent group that raises money for art in the classroom. And I've tailored it around what I would want, since we don't have much money or much time and we wouldn't be able to hire someone, say, full time and salaried what that would cost. It's very small. Very. But it's enough to pay for Billy's preschool tuition, if it works out.
I have to apply, of course, and write up a proposal. I've already written one out, but I have a few things I want to change and refine before I submit it for real. I'm trying to not be nervous. I keep saying to Jake, or to a few teachers I know at the school: "What if I do all this work, what if we all do all this work, and someone comes out of the woodwork and gets the job?" And then there's always some eye-rolling or sighing and the person I'm talking to tells me to get a grip.
But what if. I just get nervous. I worry. I like things set. Just so. I like to have some control, some predictability to my life. It's late May and the fundraising happens over the summer and what if? What if we don't manage to raise enough? What if someone with 15 years experience and a gallery show applies to work for a nun's salary teaching 6 hours a week?
Then I go back and read some text messages. I think about conversations and assurances. There are no guarantees. But I have hope that it'll work out.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Ten on Tuesday: May is So Hard
Even though I want to say things on the blog and tell you what's up in my life and everywhere, i can't because I don't have any time. ANY. Wedding showers, first communions, yardwork, camping, school art stuff--it all adds up to the mental and time equivalent of jogging through ankle deep mud. It looks like I can do it......but I can't.
But I can give you 10 Good Things Right Now
1. I had a root canal on #4, for those who know how to read a dental diagram. Upper left not-quite-a-molar. I went to the amazing endodontist who works fast and is kind and was the one who warned me: "I might not be able to get you all the way numb" when he did one of my lower teeth with deformed and extra roots. He was able to, and for that reason, I would trust him to do anything to my teeth. I would trust him to fly a plane, do my taxes, build skyscrapers, anything. Of course he can.
And the best part of root canal? I don't hurt anymore. AT ALL. Nothing. Jaw pain is quickly fading into memory. It makes me wonder, but not even that much, if this tooth has been bad since October and my dentist couldn't see it. She was out when I went in for the emergency referral--and her partner sat down and stared at the x-ray. "How long does it hurt if, say, you bite on a piece of ice?" he asked. "Only for a few minutes," I replied. "A few MINUTES?" he repeated. "You need a root canal." So it was again one of those times when the right question would have gotten to the root (ahem) of the problem. I do not blame my dentist, and there definitely was other muscular pain involved, but I think the cranial-sacral therapist and I solved that part back in February. The tooth was something we couldn't solve.
2. I didn't get the job I thought I wanted but now a group of parents at my kids' school is working to raise funds to hire an art teacher for next year. I will have to apply, but frankly I'm probably the only one out there looking to earn a nun's salary teaching 7 hours a week. Basically, I'm looking to pay for Billy's tuition to preschool. And that's about what we're trying to raise. I am so honored and humbled and blessed by this community, even when it's a crazy traveling circus.
3. My garden seems to be working. The spinach I planted, about 2/3 of it grew and is trying so hard against the slugs. Peas, too--I never plant enough to cook, but I throw pods into a salad, and I know peas help the soil. The garlic is SUPER, since we didn't have enough of a winter to really have it go all the way dormant. They are amazing. Ginormous, my daughters would say. Tomatoes are in the ground, and okra part two get put in today.
4. Girl scout camping. A few pictures.
5. Things at school, besides the art stuff, are for the most part making me happy. Happy for now, but that's the best anyone can hope for.
6. Back to girl scout camp, it was a weekend with good adult conversations and now that the girls are older? They do the lion's share of the work. They do not get bored as easily. They do not need so much tending. We were in a beautiful campsite at the end of the road. We had a good camp supervisor who did not burn us at checkout time. We are good archers--I put balloons up on the targets and the girls LOVED this. Even Fiona got a balloon popped, and the few girls who didn't, their technique improved so much in the pursuit that they are better than ever. Canoes, leatherwork, lanyards, fires: good old fashioned camp weekend.
7. Summer begins in 10 days for us. Beautiful cheap in between weather time. No heat, no A/C. Just be comfortable.
8. The Avengers was quite the fun little movie last week at the Hi-Pointe Theater with Jake.
9. Between reading some Harold Morowitz this spring, and Fr. Miguel's Easter homilies, I'm back, faith-wise. It's always a tug of war for me but I'm in a good place again. I know that Harold Morowitz shouldn't necessarily be helpful for faith, but he is for me. Sometimes it's Thomas R. Kelly, sometimes it's a Benedictine here or there (Walker Percy, Joan Chittister, etc), and sometimes it's an expert in biological thermodynamics.
10. It's a whirlwind merry go round tumbling down May but I feel as though, if my luck holds out and the river don't rise, that it'll be fine. I'll come round right.
But I can give you 10 Good Things Right Now
1. I had a root canal on #4, for those who know how to read a dental diagram. Upper left not-quite-a-molar. I went to the amazing endodontist who works fast and is kind and was the one who warned me: "I might not be able to get you all the way numb" when he did one of my lower teeth with deformed and extra roots. He was able to, and for that reason, I would trust him to do anything to my teeth. I would trust him to fly a plane, do my taxes, build skyscrapers, anything. Of course he can.
And the best part of root canal? I don't hurt anymore. AT ALL. Nothing. Jaw pain is quickly fading into memory. It makes me wonder, but not even that much, if this tooth has been bad since October and my dentist couldn't see it. She was out when I went in for the emergency referral--and her partner sat down and stared at the x-ray. "How long does it hurt if, say, you bite on a piece of ice?" he asked. "Only for a few minutes," I replied. "A few MINUTES?" he repeated. "You need a root canal." So it was again one of those times when the right question would have gotten to the root (ahem) of the problem. I do not blame my dentist, and there definitely was other muscular pain involved, but I think the cranial-sacral therapist and I solved that part back in February. The tooth was something we couldn't solve.
2. I didn't get the job I thought I wanted but now a group of parents at my kids' school is working to raise funds to hire an art teacher for next year. I will have to apply, but frankly I'm probably the only one out there looking to earn a nun's salary teaching 7 hours a week. Basically, I'm looking to pay for Billy's tuition to preschool. And that's about what we're trying to raise. I am so honored and humbled and blessed by this community, even when it's a crazy traveling circus.
3. My garden seems to be working. The spinach I planted, about 2/3 of it grew and is trying so hard against the slugs. Peas, too--I never plant enough to cook, but I throw pods into a salad, and I know peas help the soil. The garlic is SUPER, since we didn't have enough of a winter to really have it go all the way dormant. They are amazing. Ginormous, my daughters would say. Tomatoes are in the ground, and okra part two get put in today.
4. Girl scout camping. A few pictures.
6. Back to girl scout camp, it was a weekend with good adult conversations and now that the girls are older? They do the lion's share of the work. They do not get bored as easily. They do not need so much tending. We were in a beautiful campsite at the end of the road. We had a good camp supervisor who did not burn us at checkout time. We are good archers--I put balloons up on the targets and the girls LOVED this. Even Fiona got a balloon popped, and the few girls who didn't, their technique improved so much in the pursuit that they are better than ever. Canoes, leatherwork, lanyards, fires: good old fashioned camp weekend.
7. Summer begins in 10 days for us. Beautiful cheap in between weather time. No heat, no A/C. Just be comfortable.
8. The Avengers was quite the fun little movie last week at the Hi-Pointe Theater with Jake.
9. Between reading some Harold Morowitz this spring, and Fr. Miguel's Easter homilies, I'm back, faith-wise. It's always a tug of war for me but I'm in a good place again. I know that Harold Morowitz shouldn't necessarily be helpful for faith, but he is for me. Sometimes it's Thomas R. Kelly, sometimes it's a Benedictine here or there (Walker Percy, Joan Chittister, etc), and sometimes it's an expert in biological thermodynamics.
10. It's a whirlwind merry go round tumbling down May but I feel as though, if my luck holds out and the river don't rise, that it'll be fine. I'll come round right.
Sunday, May 06, 2012
Pain is so boring...so let's talk about something else
Right now, I don't hurt. I did take 2 ibuprofen before I worked out, though, so who knows. Tomorrow will be the test--it has been that working out makes things better the next day and I hope that's true.
Right now, I'm waiting for a friend to write me back and he won't and it's making me crazy. More boring things. What else?
I'm getting creative about job prospects for next year and have been humbled and wowed by the support from the folks at my school. In the end I fear it will be like being in labor with Daisy--false starts, long work, lots of pain, aggravation, stalling, and in the end, surgery! Of course, at the end I had Daisy. So maybe that isn't a bad analogy.
Right now, I'm realizing tomorrow is the beginning of teacher appreciation week and I'm in charge of a classroom and it's going to mean a lot of going up to school. But I do appreciate them!
Right now, I'm starting to plan a girl scout camping weekend, juggling many folks' different schedules and of course the inevitable no-response emails. Will this girl really go? Will she not? Should we plan for her?
Right now, I'm typing on our new laptop. It's taking a long time to get used to the big square in the center where I used to rest my hands when I typed. We have the laptop on the desk where the old computer was, and it's hooked up to the old (not that old, actually quite good) monitor so we can, sigh, watch netflix movies and do other things at the same time. We are geeks.
Right now I'm glad that even though it cost a ridiculous amount of money, the data recovery place recovered all my data.
Right now I'm making a list for Target (discount department store) and the market.
Right now all the laundry except what we're wearing and whatever may be lurking in Fiona's room, is clean Thank you Jake.
Right now the public radio station is playing its Sunday night jazz program.
Right now Billy and Fiona and Daisy are all asleep.
Right now I'm declaring the dishwasher officially dead and I'm giving in and calling a repairman.
Right now I shiver because I'm done working out, I'm dressed in a tank top and sweaty. The ceiling fan blows on me and I'm cold again even though right now it probably hasn't dropped below 85 degrees outside at 10:30 at night.
Right now is the beginning of the end of the rest of the school year--speech is over, the last field trips are this week, the university that sponsors our institution does their evaluations this week, we have a PTO meeting to set up things for next year, there are final art projects and clean ups and then we're free the 25th.
Right now the tomatoes are wondering why they're not in the ground yet.
Right now thunderstorms are coming and the weather will break again for a bit.
I think this calls for a glass of wine. Right now.
Tuesday, May 01, 2012
Pain, Megaphones, Saying No
I miscarried in July 2000. That's where this story begins, 12 years ago, sitting in a restaurant on South Grand that doesn't exist anymore, with the pastor of my church at the time, Fr. Bill, eating a chicken salad sandwich. I remember it so clearly, the chicken salad.
Later, he and I wouldn't be friends anymore and I'd sit at his dining room table, on Parish Council almost out of spite, and then what luck to be at the table when Fr. Miguel walked in the room (I really, really like our pastor now, and I'm a different person than I was in July 2000 and I know, well, I know a lot of things. Anyway). But that hasn't happened yet. I've had my teaching year with Troy that wrung me out and evacuated my soul. I've gotten pregnant. And I've miscarried. And everything sucks. It's summer, which is a great idea in theory when you start teaching but in reality can be a lonely time if no one else is a teacher (or you don't have kids to ferry from camp to class to outing).
Fr. Bill was "on" that day. He didn't tell me anything stupid. He didn't read any poetry. For the most part, he let me sit in the silence, the air conditioning, the grief, all of it. I don't know what we said--I remember chicken salad. And I remember his saying, a quote from CS Lewis, that "pain is God's megaphone."
God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: Pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world.
He didn't extrapolate or give me a sermon on how that might apply. He just let it sit in the restaurant with us. Later he drove me home and I went into my empty house with that phrase caught in my head.
I am in no way saying that it was somehow God's will that I miscarry my first pregnancy. I truly believe that God suffers with us, not that God causes the suffering. But I sat with that phrase for a long time that summer, and then I remember that autumn, on retreat and going to confession with him and he sighed and told me I was so young. Anyway, I was still thinking about pain being God's megaphone.
I changed a lot of things in my life with that miscarriage. I cut back on a lot of what I did at school. I thought about consequences before I volunteered for new things. I reflected and prayed and thought and grew.
I've had smaller losses since then, scares, disappointments, aggravations, depressions, and so forth. God is there in all of that, but this past autumn, 11 years after Fr. Bill gave me that phrase to think about, I started experiencing chronic pain. Chronic facial pain. Pain that responded fine to pain killers, but to pain killers I didn't want to overdo. Pain that my dentist shrugged at and told me to see my GP. Pain my GP shrugged at and told me to see my dentist. Caught in limbo, I turned to anyone who could help me--my neighbor the endodontist did, and the chiropractor who had worked on Billy's head helped a lot. Gretchen.
And it happened, my tooth crumbled and set all this in motion, during a very stressful autumn for me. Not my most stressful, I mean, you've read about my first year teaching, but still quite overwhelming, and I kept trying to do everything I was supposed to do, while being in pain so distracting it made me slur my words.
Things got better in January, but then fell apart right before Easter again. I was in so much pain and I thought, ok, this is the rest of my life. The rest of my life my jaw is going to hurt and I won't be able to teach and everything is going to suck from here on out. I know people with debilitating conditions like fibromyalgia or rheumatoid arthritis and I wondered what the heck I was going to do.
Pain is God's megaphone. What the heck I was going to do was figure out what the heck I was doing. Why was I stretched so thin? Why didn't I have any time? Why couldn't I say no?
And I got some of my life together again. I started working out again regularly after a long hiatus. I took my liquid vitamin D and my probiotics and my thyroid medication. I saw the chiropractor/CST every other week. I moved the seat in my car and didn't sit down in front of the computer the way I used to. I built a garden. I cleaned the house. I thought about what to do next year. I breathed and relaxed and thought about what God might be saying to me through this pain.
I don't know what it is, but I've started saying some no. Just bits, just little ones, but it's good. I'm not tutoring Kadir anymore--his family took a month long trip to his grandmother's house, and then it's summer. Done. I'm not a catechist for our church anymore. Either my school is going to employ me to teach art next year (which starts looking more likely all the time), or I'm only volunteering in Daisy's classroom, not 4 classrooms. I'm going to my inlaws for Easter next year and not decorating at church. My girl scout troop is undergoing a transformation that will put me into the role of advisor more than leader. I haven't raised my hand high, haven't raised it at all, to start anything new.
And in a month, in those previous two paragraphs, my jaw stopped hurting. Not forever, but enough that I don't take ibuprofen more than once a week now. Enough that when it starts hurting, I can figure out how to make it stop, without bourbon or ibuprofen. Just breathing. Things were seriously out of hand and it was affecting the way I interacted with people, with life, with faith, with everything. I wasn't listening to the talking, to the whispering.
I'm listening again.
Later, he and I wouldn't be friends anymore and I'd sit at his dining room table, on Parish Council almost out of spite, and then what luck to be at the table when Fr. Miguel walked in the room (I really, really like our pastor now, and I'm a different person than I was in July 2000 and I know, well, I know a lot of things. Anyway). But that hasn't happened yet. I've had my teaching year with Troy that wrung me out and evacuated my soul. I've gotten pregnant. And I've miscarried. And everything sucks. It's summer, which is a great idea in theory when you start teaching but in reality can be a lonely time if no one else is a teacher (or you don't have kids to ferry from camp to class to outing).
Fr. Bill was "on" that day. He didn't tell me anything stupid. He didn't read any poetry. For the most part, he let me sit in the silence, the air conditioning, the grief, all of it. I don't know what we said--I remember chicken salad. And I remember his saying, a quote from CS Lewis, that "pain is God's megaphone."
God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: Pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world.
He didn't extrapolate or give me a sermon on how that might apply. He just let it sit in the restaurant with us. Later he drove me home and I went into my empty house with that phrase caught in my head.
I am in no way saying that it was somehow God's will that I miscarry my first pregnancy. I truly believe that God suffers with us, not that God causes the suffering. But I sat with that phrase for a long time that summer, and then I remember that autumn, on retreat and going to confession with him and he sighed and told me I was so young. Anyway, I was still thinking about pain being God's megaphone.
I changed a lot of things in my life with that miscarriage. I cut back on a lot of what I did at school. I thought about consequences before I volunteered for new things. I reflected and prayed and thought and grew.
I've had smaller losses since then, scares, disappointments, aggravations, depressions, and so forth. God is there in all of that, but this past autumn, 11 years after Fr. Bill gave me that phrase to think about, I started experiencing chronic pain. Chronic facial pain. Pain that responded fine to pain killers, but to pain killers I didn't want to overdo. Pain that my dentist shrugged at and told me to see my GP. Pain my GP shrugged at and told me to see my dentist. Caught in limbo, I turned to anyone who could help me--my neighbor the endodontist did, and the chiropractor who had worked on Billy's head helped a lot. Gretchen.
And it happened, my tooth crumbled and set all this in motion, during a very stressful autumn for me. Not my most stressful, I mean, you've read about my first year teaching, but still quite overwhelming, and I kept trying to do everything I was supposed to do, while being in pain so distracting it made me slur my words.
Things got better in January, but then fell apart right before Easter again. I was in so much pain and I thought, ok, this is the rest of my life. The rest of my life my jaw is going to hurt and I won't be able to teach and everything is going to suck from here on out. I know people with debilitating conditions like fibromyalgia or rheumatoid arthritis and I wondered what the heck I was going to do.
Pain is God's megaphone. What the heck I was going to do was figure out what the heck I was doing. Why was I stretched so thin? Why didn't I have any time? Why couldn't I say no?
And I got some of my life together again. I started working out again regularly after a long hiatus. I took my liquid vitamin D and my probiotics and my thyroid medication. I saw the chiropractor/CST every other week. I moved the seat in my car and didn't sit down in front of the computer the way I used to. I built a garden. I cleaned the house. I thought about what to do next year. I breathed and relaxed and thought about what God might be saying to me through this pain.
I don't know what it is, but I've started saying some no. Just bits, just little ones, but it's good. I'm not tutoring Kadir anymore--his family took a month long trip to his grandmother's house, and then it's summer. Done. I'm not a catechist for our church anymore. Either my school is going to employ me to teach art next year (which starts looking more likely all the time), or I'm only volunteering in Daisy's classroom, not 4 classrooms. I'm going to my inlaws for Easter next year and not decorating at church. My girl scout troop is undergoing a transformation that will put me into the role of advisor more than leader. I haven't raised my hand high, haven't raised it at all, to start anything new.
And in a month, in those previous two paragraphs, my jaw stopped hurting. Not forever, but enough that I don't take ibuprofen more than once a week now. Enough that when it starts hurting, I can figure out how to make it stop, without bourbon or ibuprofen. Just breathing. Things were seriously out of hand and it was affecting the way I interacted with people, with life, with faith, with everything. I wasn't listening to the talking, to the whispering.
I'm listening again.
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