Author: lakesidegirl

I am a bilingual children’s librarian at a medium-sized library in the Midwest. I lived in Mexico to learn Spanish in 2013/2014. I care about a lot of things. I love. I learn. I teach. I read. I write. I knit. I travel.

One Thing for Another

I used to have weird stomach anxiety. In high school and off and on in college, I would have a stomach ache when I woke up in the morning. Occasionally I would be able to track it to some stressful situation, but most of the time it was just there for no reason. It often meant I couldn’t eat breakfast. It wasn’t nausea, just weird stomach ache. It’s been so long since I’ve felt it that I can’t really describe it anymore.

Because once I started my job, I haven’t felt it. Not once. I’ve been working since August 2010, and can’t recall a single instance of my weird morning stomach. It makes little sense, because my job is often stressful. I’m confident that I’m in the right place in my life–but I’m confident I was where I was supposed to be in high school and college. It’s just a thing that will probably always befuddle me (assuming that it keeps staying away).

Alas, I have traded that weird morning stomach for preschool. And you know what preschool means? Germs. Lots of them. I spent the last two weeks with a cold, after spending August/September/October with allergies (although the latter can’t be blamed on the children). Aaaaand then last night I was struck with the least delightful of diseases: the dreaded stomach bug. It’s nothing like weird morning stomach. It’s terrible, but at least it has a cause Five out of my nine kids had had a stomach bug over the last week and a half. It was only a matter of time before it came to me.

I’ve traded one thing for another. In the throes of illness, I’d obviously rather it just GO AWAY. But I’ll take definable, contagious diseases over weird unknown ailments. That seems like an odd thing to be appreciative of, but hey it’s Thanksgiving week. Time to be thankful.

And, of course I get sick as I start a break. One, because I worked myself to exhaustion on the brink of disease (not quite sick enough to not show up, but not quite well enough to feel 100%). Two, because that’s just the way it is.

I’ll get to reading books eventually. Today, it’s been movies and tv shows on the couch. Alas.

Pie Pie Pie

One of the great things about working at preschool is that you get multiple holidays. For example, tomorrow we have a Thanksgiving Feast in each classroom. Parents bring different Thanksgiving foods, and the kids and staff eat it. It’s delicious. Pie! Pie! Pie! Stuffing! Potatoes! It will be delicious, this Thanksgiving the First. We also have like twelve Christmases (classroom party, schoolwide party, staff party, etc). Basically we celebrate virtually every holiday at my preschool.

Although, I just remembered that I wish I had paper plates so I have less dishes to do.

This week has been exhausting.  These last few months, really. The incentive of pie is what will keep me going to work tomorrow. That and responsibility. 🙂

Unjust Judge

This is what I’m talking about at Flock (work devotional time) tomorrow:

Luke 18:1-8: A Widow and a Judge

1 Jesus told his disciples a story about how they should keep on praying and never give up:

2 In a town there was once a judge who didn’t fear God or care about people.3 In that same town there was a widow who kept going to the judge and saying, “Make sure that I get fair treatment in court.” 4 For a while the judge refused to do anything. Finally, he said to himself, “Even though I don’t fear God or care about people, 5 I will help this widow because she keeps on bothering me. If I don’t help her, she will wear me out.” 6 The Lord said: Think about what that crooked judge said.7 Won’t God protect his chosen ones who pray to him day and night? Won’t he be concerned for them?8 He will surely hurry and help them. But when the Son of Man comes, will he find on this earth anyone with faith?

Also, three days.

Research

Today I wrote about ten college-paper (read: double-spaced) pages. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that and liked it. I loved researching and writing in college (okay, I didn’t always love writing, but I enjoyed the finished product), and I HATED it in grad school. HATED. Because nothing I produced was really useful. However, I had the opportunity today to help with a spur-of-the-moment, we-need-it-today research project at work. Things are often an emergency at my work: IT MUST BE TODAY! I just have to get on board and be available. So I did.  I just hope what I wrote is what was wanted. If it’s not, then it’s close.

It doesn’t have to be perfect–but I was available, I was willing, and I finished the task set before me.  And that counts for something. It’s days like this that I really like my life: being single, no children, no appointments (except Starbucks Mondays), few commitments. Because that is my life, I can drop everything to work on something that’s really important. And adding my writing to the load takes the weight of others. And I prove myself faithful.

Four more days.

Five days

I love my job. That doesn’t stop me from being really excited that in five days I will have a weeklong break. I love my job, but it is exhausting, and it’s time for a break.

My plans include enjoying family, seeing some friends, and reading. I have a large stack of books from the library that I’m scanning through, trying to prioritize which I want to read first.
Five days.

And I’m listening to Christmas music, no matter what social constraints frown on pre-Thanksgiving listening.

Social Media

I’m part of the social media team at work. This is a new focus at work: utilizing social media like Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and the blog we have on our website. I’ve also started and am now curating a Pinterest page for us.  Today we had some training about how to use WordPress, the platform by which our website and blog is maintained. Most of the information presented I already knew, but I did pick up some tips on linking and raising ranking on Google search.

I could care less about the Google ranking of this blog, because it exists for a writing outlet and vague updates for friends and family who care to read. However, I want to do everything I can to improve the ranking of the LLH websites and such. As you may have noticed, one tip was to link back to other pages. It improves our rating and that of the site we link. I’m experimenting with new things here, as this is my own personal experimentation ground. I’d rather do strange formatting things here rather than on a blog we’re trying to use to spread the news about what we do for kids with special needs.  So if weird things pop up around here, that’s why.

I love being a part of the social media team, because I love helping further our mission past our doors. I feel like I am uniquely qualified to help make our presence on these tools better–I’ve been using nearly all of them longer than anyone at work. Facebook? Since I got my jbu.edu email address in early 2006. Twitter? I don’t even remember how long I’ve had it, but at least two or three years, if not longer. YouTube? Ok, I don’t really do much with YouTube, but words are my thing, not videos. Pinterest? Well, that hasn’t been around long, but I’ve been on it since it’s early stages. WordPress? I’ve had this blog since 2007. Writing? I’ve been doing that forever, but that’s not a social media tool. It’s just an awesome tool.

Basically, I’m not the best at using these tools, but I am very familiar with them.  If I don’t know how to use anything on each website, I can problem-solve quickly to find a solution. I hope to get better at explaining how I use these tools to others. I don’t want to hoard all the information!

I have a vision for how we can use all these internetly tools to help children with disabilities and their families. I just need a plan. So I’m going to write one.  We have big things coming up these next few months and I want our social media front to be ready.

Guess that’s what I’m doing this weekend.

Power

What a world we live in.  People in my circle of the universe like to point to things like earthquakes, immodest dress, cohabitation, lax morals, etc, as harbingers of the end of the world.

I’m more worried about cheering a presidential candidate accused of sexual harassment.  Instead of asking real questions about whether the women speaking out are telling the truth, many of his supporters are choosing to turn a blind eye.  Even if the allegations are true, some in that linked article believe he’s still the best candidate.

I’m more worried about a university where many students are booing the firing of a man who didn’t report an alleged child rapist to the police. Some of them are rioting over it.  They’re more concerned over one man’s legacy than the unimaginable pain of abused children.

I’m more worried when people seem to care more about the feelings of those in power than they do over the powerless. Those in power have enough of it–they don’t need our affirmation and praise on top of their power. Jesus came for the weak, the powerless, the oppressed. His people just have to remember that.

Power isn’t everything.

Voting

This time last year I wrote about voting. Because I voted.
Many things I voted about did not go the way I voted. Silly propositions about sharia law and voting identification passed, despite my no votes. When I voted today, I encountered the consequence of the latter new law.

I had to present my driver’s license or voter registration card. Despite my love of voting, I’m really not sure where that card is. So, my license I begrudgingly displayed. I was informed that my license was set to expire in April and to make sure that it was up to date if I wanted to vote in the next election, because your driver’s license must not be expired in order to vote.

Really? Really? Because my license expires, I cease to be who I am? I don’t think so. It had always been my understanding that the expiration had more to do with keeping track of drivers rather than proving that I still am who I was four years previously. I don’t even need a birth certificate to get renewed! So what does my driver’s license expiration date have to do with my right to vote? Nothing. But because people vote with their fear (or hope of stifling others’ voices?), these nonsense rules about license’s and expiration dates apply.

Voting is a right. Not a privilege. Men have died so that I could vote, both on the battlefield and on places like a driveway in Jackson, Mississippi.  My vote isn’t being infringed. No one is questioning my right to vote. But they’re making it annoying. And laying the ground for the possibility that someday I might have to use a provisional ballet just because my license might have the wrong date on it. This is nothing compared to some of the obstacles we’ve put in front of people in the past. But I don’t think it’s right.

I am against impediments towards voting. It seems reasonable to require an ID to vote, to prove who you are. But it’s just another way to keep people away from voting. And in a country where voter turnout is consistently low, it still just seems like a plot to weed out some people from voting by making it more difficult.

The polling ladies told me I was one of the only people they’d seen at my polling place under the age of 50. And I went at 4:30 PM.

On the plus side, all the things on the ballot went the way I voted. So that’s something.

One vote. I have it. I use it. I hope I use it to help others use their votes.

It’s just the wind

I was on the second story  and felt the house begin to shake. I called down the stairs to my parents, “earthquake!” My mother responded, “It’s just the wind.” When the earth kept moving and the house kept shaking, she changed her mind.

Let’s review Oklahoma 2011

Winter: Snowpocalypse. I was home for most of TWO weeks. Because of snow.

Spring: Tornadoes

Summer: Hottest temperatures EVER. I was home for most of TWO weeks. Because of heat.

Fall: Earthquakes.  Third major one in 3 days!

As I’ve said on Facebook and Twitter: May there never be an earthquake while I’m at work with the children. They will panic like nobody’s business. And FEMA is no help when trying to prepare for an earthquake with wee ones with special needs: Seismic Safety (click me). It does however, reveal the secret that children are often terrified of earthquakes.

Be prepared.

Aftershocks

I’ve been making up aftershocks, inadvertently. Ok, maybe not always inadvertently. Sometimes on purpose. Every loud noise or rumble sounds like an earthquake. Now that I’ve experienced two, I feel like an expert. In Oklahoma.

This is ridiculous.

It’s storming tonight, so there are rumbles of thunder. I think there will be a lot of “aftershocks” tonight.

Aftershocks, real or imagined, are funny things. Whether they follow earthquakes or difficult events, they’re still surprising, sometimes terrifying.

Events ripple. Tectonic plates shift. Aftershocks startle.

Neither philosophy nor poetry were ever my strong suit.

EARTHQUAKE

I never thought that I would experience an earthquake in Oklahoma. As of an hour ago, I have now experienced THREE in the last year.
This time last year there was a little one that I felt because I was home sick. It was so small and short. I was sitting on the living room couch and thought my dog was wagging his tail into the couch. Except he hasn’t done that in a long time because he’s been dead since 2009. So, pretty small earthquake. Even so, I went TO THE INTERNET!

Last night I was housesitting and woke up at 2:13. I couldn’t figure out why I was awake. Then I started hearing weird rattling noises and my bed started shaking. The whole house was shaking! The bird downstairs was squawking–he didn’t like an earthquake. I was still half-asleep, but even in that state I still had the urge to go TO THE INTERNET to confirm that what had happened was actually an earthquake. Sure enough, some people had just tweeted about an earthquake. Satisfied, I fell back asleep.

An hour ago, my parents and I started tonight’s episode of SNL. The ghost of Gadhafi started talking, then the room started shaking. We didn’t catch on right away, but soon figured out it was an EARTHQUAKE. When it lasted more than a couple seconds, my dad ran to a door frame! He was not thrilled that my mom and I remained on the couch. I was confident in the belief that Oklahoma earthquakes would not kill me. This earthquake was at least 30 seconds long. And, as with every important event and my previous two earthquakes: TO THE INTERNET.

At least I’m consistent.

Learning

I enjoy learning. It’s part of my nature to attempt to derive meanings and lessons from my life experiences. Everything has to have a reason. I can find a silver lining of a lesson in any hurricane. Things don’t turn out the way I hoped? That’s ok, I learned something about myself. Someone hurt me? That’s ok, now I know how to approach a similar situation in the future.  Finding the bright side is how I cope with most of my sadnesses.

In general, I find it to be a valuable skill to see what I’ve learned out of my experiences.  Sometimes, though, I want to just be unhappy. I don’t want to know the lesson. I want things to turn out the way I wanted with the lesson I had in mind. I don’t want to see the bright side.

So I won’t.

I’ll learn a lesson later.

You know it’s been a crazy day at preschool…

When the clothes you wear home are not the same as what you wore to work.

When the disaster that happened to your clothing is so bad that you have to call your mom to bring you that extra set of clothes.

When you vow to never be without a spare pair of pants again.

When you cleaned the carpet for two hours and will need to do further cleaning tomorrow.

When the classroom next door has to take all your other kids so you can clean the disaster-maker. With the help of the school nurse.

When the only way to describe what happened is with made-up words like “poopsplosion.”

This all sounds super-serious since you can’t write tone, but today, while crazy, was actually highly amusing. That’s really the only way to respond to a bodily function-related disaster: with amusement. It’s not my poor student’s fault that he can’t control his body. And I have a lovely team of people who help me get everything back to crazy normal, instead of the spontaneous CRAY CRAY that happened today.

On the plus side Thanksgiving is in three weeks.

Trippy

If I remember correctly, the weird art installation I wrote about previously was part of this exhibition.

I still have no idea what art was at the end of the black tunnel. The blurb about the exhibition doesn’t describe the part I remember.  However, the entire exhibition was a whole floor and the dark dark dark dark was just a sliver of that floor.

Memory in the 21st Century

That title promises a fancy and intriguing appraisal of memory in this modern age. Alas, all it really means is that I have learned over the last few months that if I don’t email myself something, I might not remember it. I’ll be falling asleep and remember something I need to remember to bring to work the next day. The best way for me to actually remember the thing is to send myself an email. Seriously. I know I’ll glance at email before I go out the door in the morning. However, there is no guarantee that I will glance through my brain to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. Thanks Gmail, for being there for me. You’re saving space on my desktop memory.

I could be a Google Chrome commercial.

Space

Sometimes I wish we had intergalactic space travel, as found in any science fiction book or television show. Just imagine seeing the entire universe.

Then I remember that unknown dark spaces freak me out. At the Hirshhorn Museum of Modern Art in DC this summer, they had displays that were completely in the dark. I couldn’t handle them. Even the cool ones that had to do with time. Modern art is weird, beyond belief.
Space basically equals dark spaces. There’s almost no way you could convince me to travel in space, even if it were possible. But for some reason, I still wish it were real.

Everything just seems more exciting in space. Or maybe, just more dramatic.

The things I think when watching Firefly while filling out attendance forms.