Attitude is Everything

Dear Diary,

I have been at my new grade school job for about six weeks now.  I work only a few hours a day and in only one or two classrooms so my knowledge of who's who on the staff is is very limited.

My first week as the new kid on the block I practically smiled my ears off at anyone taller than 5 feet in my desire to be accepted, to make a good impression, and just because I like to be nice.

That included the crossing guard.  Upon entering school grounds there is a four-way stop manned by a lone crossing guard wearing a yellow reflective vest and holding her stop sign.  I get a good look at her because I have to stop there anyway. 

At some point during my first week I instinctively smiled and waved through my car window-- after coming to a complete stop of course.

Now it is six weeks later. 
About two weeks ago as I approached the intersection manned by our guard, I admit I groaned inwardly (IMG).  Here were the thoughts that went through my head.

riversideca.gov

Do I have to wave at her every morning now?
Smiling and waving every morning at this woman is getting so old.
I don't wanna have to do this every day.  I don't even have a good smile.
Does she even care that I wave to her?  I don't even know her name.
What if I just blow her off and look straight ahead.
I could just pretend I was very interested in the empty road in front of me and drive on by -- after I stop of course.

Whooooooaaaaaa, LJ. 
S-T-O-P those thoughts.

Months ago I had the opportunity to be a morning car door opener at my daughter's school.  I enjoyed the brief "hello" and "have a good day" moments with people I didn't even know.  Why would this be any different?  Why wouldn't this lady look forward to someone smiling and waving at her every morning?

With new determination, and with cheek muscles twitching like a racehorse in the starting gate, I approached the intersection, made eye contact with the crossing guard, grinned and waved at her amiably.

And it felt good. 
Somehow my little pep talk genuinely changed my heart about the issue and I now look forward to our little exchange of civility every morning. 

I can only hope she isn't thinking as my little silver car approaches the stop line,

Do I have to wave at her every morning now?
Smiling and waving every morning at this woman is going to get old real fast.......

LJ

Pie Charts and Tally Marks

Dear Diary,

It's all I can do to not raise my hand.

The second grade teacher asks a question about the picture chart.  "How many more pepperoni pizzas were made than cheese?"  The kids aren't getting it.  They raise their hands to answer but just can't quite figure it out. 

Ooooh. Pick me! Pick me! I know the answer! I think to myself. 

I love this math. It is so much fun!  I would love to be able to show the class how smart I am.

But this is not a flashback to my childhood.
This is now.
I am an adult.
An aide, sitting in a second grade classroom, watching a lesson about charts and graphs unfold on the overhead screen in front of me and 25+ eight-year-olds. 

And I want to raise my hand.

Silly, I know.

Thanks to my employment, I now spend a lot of time in first and second grade.

We are
counting coins
charting and tallying
telling time
watching plants grow from seeds
spelling homonyms
reading stories
subtracting three digit numbers
learning not to cut in line. 

Through all this activity I am realizing:

All I ever really need to know I learned by second grade. 

Have I ever used sine and cosine in my "real" life?  Nope.  But three digit subtraction sure comes in handy with my checkbook (and so does counting coins).  And it is always good to know which witch to write, right?

So, just in case the teacher gets tired of hearing wrong answers, and one day I hear,
"Mrs. LJ, what is the noun in that sentence?"

I'll be ready.
'Cuz I've already been through second grade, and I'll know.

Precociously yours,
LJ

Strive to Thrive

Dear Diary,
Today I thought I'd share a little of what I have been learning about myself over the last few weeks since the start of my new job.

I'm calling it

LJ's Strive to Thrive and Not Just Survive Guide

When in the tunnel moments of life, here are a few handy tips to help me stay focused on the light in the distance.

• Enlighten myself about others who are in worse situations than I.  Seriously!  The I'm so glad I'm not THAT person mentality can be therapeutic.  This may sound callous but, truly, I do not mean it to be.  A sure way to be thankful and count my blessings is by getting tangibly or spiritually involved in the lives of others who are in troubled times.  [www.persecution.com is a great place to get started.]
• Remind myself that my situation is only for a season.  Granted, some seasons (like winter, for instance) seem longer than others, but there will be an end -- or at least a change.
• Smile!  Plaster it on!  Try not to burden others (other than very close friends) with sudden outbursts or rants of self-pity.  Really.  It may feel good to unload one's burden at the time, but it is not pretty to those unsuspecting acquaintances caught off guard after routinely asking, "How are you?"
• Call mom.  She is the only person God made who is obligated to listen to her offspring's pity parties without repercussions or bias and with complete sympathy.  But understand:  Once dumped on, she is also just as obligated to offer her advice.  As a mom myself, I understand this balance.  When mom is not home, dad can serve as stand-in.
• Keep a couple of prayer warrior friends up to date.  Again, try not to wallow too much.  We want to keep our friends.  Debbie Downer is not invited to every party.
• Here's the last important tip:  Find the nearest Trader Joe's.  Purchase a couple of boxes of Dark Chocolate Almonds.  Label byline: Roasted almonds drenched in dark chocolate and sprinkled with sea salt and turbinado sugar.  I don't know what turbinado sugar is, and, frankly, I don't care.  If you are a sweet-and-salt nut like I am, this is the comfort snack to beat all.  [It also makes a great gift, hostess or otherwise, hence the need to buy more than one box.  Coincidentally, my birthday is next month.]

If anyone has their own handy tips to add, please comment!

Striving to Thrive,
LJ

Finding My Groove

Dear Diary,
I can't find an hour to myself these days. 

It is hard getting used to working again.  At home I am always feeling rushed to get things done -- and this is only the priority items (like fashioning dinner out of a frozen block of chicken breasts in less than 30 minutes); the toilet scrubbing just has to wait.  In time I will relearn to budget my time.  I have done it before.  After much hub-bub and drama -- literally-- my kids' extra-curricular schedules are winding down to a slower pace. 

Tonight I got a reminder call from a charity to which I donate household items.  I have no idea what happened to my "reminder postcard," so I never got the pickup date marked on the calendar.  Read between the lines:  I never collected any gently used items for tomorrow's pickup. 

For once, I was happy to have answered the reminder phone call.  And how fortunate that I cleaned out some cabinets a few weeks ago.  I didn't know then that I would be scrambling tonight to gather some bags full of stuff.  A quick scan of my closet and out go a few blouses and sweaters I haven't worn in a long while, or just don't fit like they used to. (ahem.)

Maybe that's the best way for me to clean out:  go into the closet with an empty bag and desperate intentions.  It makes for a quick separation of what would otherwise be a lengthy, emotional disposal process.

Back to the prioritizing....

So, we've run out of shampoo and are using our travel bottles until I find time to get more.
And, yeah, the school notes are piling up and I'm sure I owe some money to someone for some collection or field trip of some sort. (Don't get me started on the library fines.)
And, yes, I miss my carefree writing time here in my diary.

But I will find my groove. 
Some days, like today, will have a happy ending. 

And someone who needs it more than I will be getting a gently used blouse out of the deal.
That's a good day.

Gettin' my groove on,
LJ

More Than Meets the Eye

Dear Diary,

I'm feeling old.  Well, maybe more like "out of sorts."

When one hits the mid 40s, one becomes used to the term ma'am instead of miss.  I was first called ma'am when I was in my late 20s, by a dental assistant who wasn't much younger than me.  Boy, did my day go down hill from there.  How many people can say they remember the moment that moniker was applied to them?  Yes, traumatic.

But at this point -- at 44 -- I am impervious to the ma'am label.  There are other reasons I am feeling out of sorts these days.

I am in a new work environment.  After being a work-at-home mom for almost a year, the mental transition hasn't been easy.  The well-spring of emotions that this job has elicited will be expounded upon another day, perhaps. 

Picture an elementary school setting.  Not only am I surrounded by young children, but by fertile young teachers with the makeup and hair and clothes to go with.  A silly statement, but I bet most readers get what I mean.

There are a few of us seasoned folk sprinkled into the mix.  The days of pregnancies, potty training struggles, and preschool programs are long gone for me.  Since I no longer fall into the Young Marrieds category, I feel like a middle-aged alien wandering the halls of the school.  OK, I exaggerate a bit, but still, the thoughts of "I don't fit in" pop into my head at least once a day.

When I look at this honestly, I know I am feeling this way because I am comparing myself to these women.  Women who on the outside appear to be put together, golden highlights, baby bumps and all.  Lunchroom talk about ultrasounds, overseas adoptions and sick toddlers have me nodding and smiling either in sympathy or in polite agreement.  (I am the newbie so these people are still perfect strangers to me. I can't offer up much more than this at this stage anyway.) 

I miss the Young Married stage and the energy, exuberance and honeymoon attitude that goes with it. Although, I feel equiped to handle it so much better now that I am in my 5th decade!  I can see why grandparenting is the best!

I think I am mourning what I had, and which I now have to greet in the faces of these women on a daily basis. 

Make no mistake.  I love, love, love the life I am leading now.  I am blessed despite life's hardballs. 

In time I will get to know these women who, right now, are only two-dimensional figures of youth and happiness. 

There is more than meets the eye.  And in time, I pray they will find this true of me too.

LJ

My Tunnel Moments

Dear Diary,

On the verge again.

Moments away from the worst winter storm of the season. 
Goody for afternoon rush hour!

A phone call away from knowing if my first day of work is tomorrow or the next day.  Yes, I am newly employed until June. 

Meanwhile.....

I read Tessa Hardiman's blog today and I loved her analogy of Tunnel Moments, referring to the state of mind of an athlete prior to entering the arena (via the tunnel). As a stage performer, I could appreciate her definition of tunnel moments, which has given me some food for thought.

But my tunnel moments evoke a different image.

When I first read her title I was thinking about tunnels, as in driving-out-west-through-the-mountains kind of tunnels.  As a kid from the Midwest, where tunnels were something I dug every winter in the drifts of snow piled against the house, I loved going through mountain tunnels on vacations, and couldn't wait until the next one came along.

Am I the only one who feels this way?  (Yes, present tense, feels.  I am still a kid a heart!)
Driving along in the bright sunshine only to be suddenly engulfed in darkness, sunglasses removed and headlights switched on; and sometimes Dad would comply with my deep desire to hear the car horn reverberate through the cavern before rolling out into the open road and sunshine again.

Why the thrill?  I can only guess it is the change of scenery, if only for a moment.
It is knowing that, once entombed, there is sunshine at the other end, and that the darkness is only a temporary blindness for which we have tools to overcome, and from which there is recovery. 

Tunnel moments.
Temporary darkness for which we have the tools to overcome,
with anticipation of the light we know is there,
and are in constant motion to attain.

Dr. Phil, eat your heart out.

Now that I am at the end of this post, the snow has arrived (with gusto), and I got the phone call. (I start tomorrow.)

I know of people going through their own tunnels right now.  I pray they find the tools to get through it, knowing there is a light at the end!

LJ

The Lord is God, and he has made his light shine on us. Ps 118:37