Yesterday I attended the Indiana Conference on Learning put on by the Indiana Student Achievement Association. I went as a partner in the Delaware County College Success Coalition. Really, my boss is a partner of the CSC, but she couldn't go. I'm so glad I went.
Mike Mattos, the Keynote speaker, was inspirational. I arrived late (two accidents on 69, anyone?? Arg!), so I didn't hear his introduction or the Official Welcome from the State Superintendent. My introduction was a question, "What are your educational aspirations for your children?" As I settled into my seat, others discussed the question and wrote down answers. When everyone had finished he asked, "How many wrote that your child would be competent in the State Standards?" The tone in the room changed when he posed that question: There were a few embarrassed chuckles, some distinct shifting in seats and glances aside. The teachers at my table almost hung their heads in embarrassment when he asked the crowd, "For how many of you is that your school's aspiration for their students?"
It is really eye opening to go into a conference where the assumption (by the audience) is that everyone there is an educator. It was like the gloves were off, and the true attitude of teachers toward parents was revealed, I suspect because it was a "safe" environment. One break-out session was lead by a state Department of Education staff person. She was presenting a new law regarding Graduation Plans; her attitude seemed to be that "we MUST deal with parents but since they are in-adequate deadbeats, we can't expect much from them," AND "I know you all [teachers] only want to do the minimum to observe the law." I went to the session thinking that this would be a marvelous tool to help students and parents know what their working towards. It might be, but it certainly wasn't pitched as such.
In another break-out session I attended, entitled "Home Visits and Other Parent Involvement Strategies," the snide comments were a dime a dozen. The well-dressed middle-aged woman sitting next to me kept leaning over making, "who are they kidding" kind of remarks. I suspect she mistook me for a teacher. If she had known that I fit more under the demographic of "parent" than "educator" I purport she would not have been so conspiratorial nor talked so openly about the impossibilities of the strategies presented. Which have had such radical success in a small urban elementary school in Kentucky that uses approximately $1,000 less per student than other elementary schools in the same district! This school has achieved success - almost 80% of their students pass state standards - using less money. Because they've changed their school culture. That isn't what their presentation was about, but it was apparent from the team of teachers and the principal that were present.
Later in the opening Keynote, Mattos showed a study done by the Pew Charitable Foundation that quantified the number of instructional hours it would take to teach all the federally-mandated standards. What The Pew Foundation found is that to meet the current standards it would take approximately two thousand additional instructional hours over the course of students' school careers: an impossible standard. (Incidentally, to add 2,000 instructional hours to a student's school career would be adding approximately 24 instructional days to a school calendar: from 180 to 204. Making this change would surely press schools toward year round school. Something I think needs to happen anyway. I digress...) So teachers are being asked - nee mandated - to work toward impossible standards.
I wonder if ALL of us - parents, teachers, community members - are working toward unattainable goals. How could our students not fail if we're all failing all around them? Of course teachers are frustrated and throwing blame around - they've been asked to do an impossible job. So I'm going to cut them some slack. I'm going to change my attitude toward teachers and forgive those neigh-sayers. They're just trying to stay afloat. Well, so am I. So I get that.
Believing that all children can learn is the place to start. I believe if we adopted a new paradigm that change could happen: If we as a community started to believe that ALL CHILDREN can learn, then I think we would see more students succeed. If non-educators started asking for whole-scale reform instead of trying to figure out which teachers are good and bad, then we might get somewhere. As it is, teachers and parents are all working really hard toward similar goals, but in different directions. We need to start thinking MORE about how to all be on the same team, working toward the same goals than trying to blame bad teachers, bad unions or bad parents. If we all think our kids can learn and act that way, maybe we can begin to make some progress.
My next step toward progress: I'm going to be a mentor. Project Leadership matches adults with students enrolled in the 21st Century Scholars program. I'm committing to mentoring a college-bound high school student once a week. I can't do a lot, but I can do a little. Maybe you should think about doing that too!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Loss
I have a secret to tell you. Let's keep it just between the two of us, ok?
I don't know what I'm doing.
I know this comes as a surprise to you. I do my best to come across confident and certain, but often I'm giving life my best guess. I'm lost. I'm often at a loss.
Loss and lost. They are both from the same etymological root of either the Greek word lyein "to loosen, untie, slacken," or the Old English word losian meaning to"be lost, perish." Other options are that it might be from Proto-Indo-European root leu which means "to loosen, divide, cut apart, untie, separate." Harkening from these roots are: forlorn, analysis, paralysis and - everyone's favorite - electrolysis.
It's helpful for me to look at this list, to think about the age-old connections these words have. When I get lost - whether I'm lost on my feet, in my car or in my brain - I become paralyzed. Cut apart from rational thought. Lose the ability to take action. Lost. Action perishes. To become UN-lost, what do I try to do: analyze why I'm stuck. But in analysis, just like paralysis, the action is inaction. The action of analyze is to sit still & think a little more. Still lost.
Yesterday I was sitting at a coffee shop. While enjoying a cup of tea with a co-worker/friend, we were gently interrupted by a nice older woman of nondescript age. After she left, my friend leaned in conspiratorially to say, "Can you believe she's over 70!? She's a marvel."
My friend continued, "Her father died several years ago and was buried near Kokomo. When her husband and daughter were returning to Muncie from the funeral, they were in a car accident. Both of them died."
I'm stricken. See, my loss and lostness is very circumstantial. A product of my lack of vision, of my lack of clarity. But true lost-ness comes in situations like that dear woman survived. Burying a husband, daughter and father in the same week. Lost. Loss. Losing. I know nothing of any of it. So instead of analyzing why I'm stuck, I'm just going to stand up and move. I figure I'll get un-lost in the process.
I don't know what I'm doing.
I know this comes as a surprise to you. I do my best to come across confident and certain, but often I'm giving life my best guess. I'm lost. I'm often at a loss.
Loss and lost. They are both from the same etymological root of either the Greek word lyein "to loosen, untie, slacken," or the Old English word losian meaning to"be lost, perish." Other options are that it might be from Proto-Indo-European root leu which means "to loosen, divide, cut apart, untie, separate." Harkening from these roots are: forlorn, analysis, paralysis and - everyone's favorite - electrolysis.
It's helpful for me to look at this list, to think about the age-old connections these words have. When I get lost - whether I'm lost on my feet, in my car or in my brain - I become paralyzed. Cut apart from rational thought. Lose the ability to take action. Lost. Action perishes. To become UN-lost, what do I try to do: analyze why I'm stuck. But in analysis, just like paralysis, the action is inaction. The action of analyze is to sit still & think a little more. Still lost.
Yesterday I was sitting at a coffee shop. While enjoying a cup of tea with a co-worker/friend, we were gently interrupted by a nice older woman of nondescript age. After she left, my friend leaned in conspiratorially to say, "Can you believe she's over 70!? She's a marvel."
My friend continued, "Her father died several years ago and was buried near Kokomo. When her husband and daughter were returning to Muncie from the funeral, they were in a car accident. Both of them died."
I'm stricken. See, my loss and lostness is very circumstantial. A product of my lack of vision, of my lack of clarity. But true lost-ness comes in situations like that dear woman survived. Burying a husband, daughter and father in the same week. Lost. Loss. Losing. I know nothing of any of it. So instead of analyzing why I'm stuck, I'm just going to stand up and move. I figure I'll get un-lost in the process.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Reading, wRiting and 'Rithmatic
One year for Christmas I received a box, a paper box, the kind that offices get with 10 reams of paper. In it were 7 (or is it 8?) hard bound books, brand new with their crisp pages and shiny sleeves, lovingly wrapped in pink and yellow tissue paper. I remember opening that box in wonder, carefully extracting each of Laura Ingalls Wilder's books, enraptured. The following weeks and months my love of reading was solidified, as I wandered the Big Woods and the Banks of Plum Creek. I read them slowly that year.
However, in 5th grade, I re-devoured them. A week was spent in a cloud - I shivered during the Long Winter and experienced the flutter of new love riding way too fast with Alonzo in his buggy. I despised him as he spent money and wasted Laura's toil on the Homestead. "Susie, SUSIE," my mom called, but I didn't answer: I was no longer Susie. If she'd have called "Laura, LAURA," I'm sure I'd have come running. Awake until all hours of the night with a flashlight under the covers, I then spent the next day in school with the book on my lap, reading at every opportunity*. (*Really, it's the only time I remember willingly disobeying the rules.)
Reading is my favorite escape. But I haven't been reading lately. I've a stack of articles and books on my desk and in my handbag. I take them from work to home, home to work, and back again. Just as the barren years of college when I read neither for work or pleasure, I am again finding myself too overwhelmed with work to enter into the joy of reading, but too tired of it all to bring myself back to work when I can rest. I despise this time in the waste-land of not reading. I'm never sure what starts this barrenness of input, but I don't like it a'tall.
However, in 5th grade, I re-devoured them. A week was spent in a cloud - I shivered during the Long Winter and experienced the flutter of new love riding way too fast with Alonzo in his buggy. I despised him as he spent money and wasted Laura's toil on the Homestead. "Susie, SUSIE," my mom called, but I didn't answer: I was no longer Susie. If she'd have called "Laura, LAURA," I'm sure I'd have come running. Awake until all hours of the night with a flashlight under the covers, I then spent the next day in school with the book on my lap, reading at every opportunity*. (*Really, it's the only time I remember willingly disobeying the rules.)
Reading is my favorite escape. But I haven't been reading lately. I've a stack of articles and books on my desk and in my handbag. I take them from work to home, home to work, and back again. Just as the barren years of college when I read neither for work or pleasure, I am again finding myself too overwhelmed with work to enter into the joy of reading, but too tired of it all to bring myself back to work when I can rest. I despise this time in the waste-land of not reading. I'm never sure what starts this barrenness of input, but I don't like it a'tall.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Capacity
My work involves a lot of talk about the word "capacity." Does an organization have capacity for greater utilization? Would additional funding allow the capacity of an organization to grow? Does an organization have the capacity to assist another? And on and on it goes, the talk not about the ability or desire but if all the tools are in place for success.
This talk of capacity has infiltrated my real life also. I now look at requests for our time and money in terms of our capacity: I ask, "Do we have the capacity to say yes to a birthday party?" instead of asking, "Is there anything already scheduled for that time?" It becomes less about our desire to do something and more about what we are capable of doing given our resources. It's actually been very freeing to start saying yes (and no) to requests based upon my understanding of our family's capacity.
Currently, we The Godfreys, are at capacity. We have as many routine activities as is reasonable for us to undertake. We want to be more involved in other things, but alas, we can not because we've reached capacity.
When I took my new job, I decided that one of the best ways to extend my capacity to care for our kids was to hire an afternoon nanny. We have the most wonderful girl in the world taking care of the kids most afternoons. Sarah is just lovely in spirit, she helps with the house, she cares for the kids well, she often helps with dinner, really she's just about as good as it gets. However, she often is unable to come. At least once a week, it seems, she has something come up that makes her unable to come as previously arranged. And by previously arranged, I mean the set schedule of 4 afternoons a week.
So this morning, as the Check Engine Light came on, I was talking to Sarah about her attendance. I asked her to not send me text messages calling off work. I asked her to determine if her schedule had reached capacity and if she has, ahem, the capacity to commit to caring for my kids. I tried to heap on the compliments, because truly, she's a marvel when she's at our house. However, I do not have the capacity to drum up a new sitter once or twice a week.
So I feel bad that her blind friend might miss being at her Grandma's bedside in time to say "goodbye" for lack of a ride from Sarah today, since I brow-beat her into working tonight. I feel bad that I had to say, "we LOVE having you, but if you can't commit to being here, we'll find someone who can."
I'm putting into action the things that I've learned in counseling, to take people at their word and to mean what I say. It is my responsibility to ask for what I want directly and to allow the other person to respond according to their needs and capacity. I just need to reply to the words. And that truly is all I have the capacity for anymore.
This talk of capacity has infiltrated my real life also. I now look at requests for our time and money in terms of our capacity: I ask, "Do we have the capacity to say yes to a birthday party?" instead of asking, "Is there anything already scheduled for that time?" It becomes less about our desire to do something and more about what we are capable of doing given our resources. It's actually been very freeing to start saying yes (and no) to requests based upon my understanding of our family's capacity.
Currently, we The Godfreys, are at capacity. We have as many routine activities as is reasonable for us to undertake. We want to be more involved in other things, but alas, we can not because we've reached capacity.
When I took my new job, I decided that one of the best ways to extend my capacity to care for our kids was to hire an afternoon nanny. We have the most wonderful girl in the world taking care of the kids most afternoons. Sarah is just lovely in spirit, she helps with the house, she cares for the kids well, she often helps with dinner, really she's just about as good as it gets. However, she often is unable to come. At least once a week, it seems, she has something come up that makes her unable to come as previously arranged. And by previously arranged, I mean the set schedule of 4 afternoons a week.
So this morning, as the Check Engine Light came on, I was talking to Sarah about her attendance. I asked her to not send me text messages calling off work. I asked her to determine if her schedule had reached capacity and if she has, ahem, the capacity to commit to caring for my kids. I tried to heap on the compliments, because truly, she's a marvel when she's at our house. However, I do not have the capacity to drum up a new sitter once or twice a week.
So I feel bad that her blind friend might miss being at her Grandma's bedside in time to say "goodbye" for lack of a ride from Sarah today, since I brow-beat her into working tonight. I feel bad that I had to say, "we LOVE having you, but if you can't commit to being here, we'll find someone who can."
I'm putting into action the things that I've learned in counseling, to take people at their word and to mean what I say. It is my responsibility to ask for what I want directly and to allow the other person to respond according to their needs and capacity. I just need to reply to the words. And that truly is all I have the capacity for anymore.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Working
I have a new job. It is largely undefined and amorphic as yet. So up until now, I've been reading and gathering information. I am about to explode with all of this new information. And so much of it is really interesting, so I thought I would share it with you. All four of you who follow me. Smile.
I am working via a grant from the Indiana Associations of United Ways called 4Community2. 4 Community [1, implied] served our county with a clunky nary-used online database for social service agencies to share information. I was a lot of work for an unwieldly project & I see sweat creep across my dear boss' brow when she speaks about it for long.
4 Community2's goals are to provide a neighborhood-based Single Point of Access for services. "What exactly does that mean, Sue?" you ask. Well, I'm so glad you asked. I've learned over the past few weeks that I am merely a channel for bringing about change. Initially, the plan is to work in schools to bring local services and agencies who already provide services out to the county schools and/or into under-served schools and/or neighborhoods in the city of Muncie as well. The grant is funding, among other things, my position as a Community Organizer of Sorts and a new position at Open Door Health Services for an Enrollment Specialist. What I'm finding as I study and research for my job is that there are lots of people interested in this idea, and each person I speak with wants to move the process forward faster than the last. It makes the amorphic and undefined nature of my position infuriating to both myself and the people with whom I speak.
I am reading and gathering information and thinking a lot, but I haven't found an appropriate outlet for what I'm reading. I'm not sure if blogging about it is the best way to process it? But I'm thinking it might be. As of right now I have 4 blog posts in some level of undress/ unpreparedness where I'm trying to work out what I think.
So I guess it begs the question, do you want to join me in working out what I'm thinking or should I just keep it to myself?
I am working via a grant from the Indiana Associations of United Ways called 4Community2. 4 Community [1, implied] served our county with a clunky nary-used online database for social service agencies to share information. I was a lot of work for an unwieldly project & I see sweat creep across my dear boss' brow when she speaks about it for long.
4 Community2's goals are to provide a neighborhood-based Single Point of Access for services. "What exactly does that mean, Sue?" you ask. Well, I'm so glad you asked. I've learned over the past few weeks that I am merely a channel for bringing about change. Initially, the plan is to work in schools to bring local services and agencies who already provide services out to the county schools and/or into under-served schools and/or neighborhoods in the city of Muncie as well. The grant is funding, among other things, my position as a Community Organizer of Sorts and a new position at Open Door Health Services for an Enrollment Specialist. What I'm finding as I study and research for my job is that there are lots of people interested in this idea, and each person I speak with wants to move the process forward faster than the last. It makes the amorphic and undefined nature of my position infuriating to both myself and the people with whom I speak.
I am reading and gathering information and thinking a lot, but I haven't found an appropriate outlet for what I'm reading. I'm not sure if blogging about it is the best way to process it? But I'm thinking it might be. As of right now I have 4 blog posts in some level of undress/ unpreparedness where I'm trying to work out what I think.
So I guess it begs the question, do you want to join me in working out what I'm thinking or should I just keep it to myself?
Monday, September 27, 2010
A really boring rambly post about child care
I have spent the better part of the past three weeks researching child care options for my kids. An after school option for the older two and an all day option for Hank. What I'm finding in the process is that we really want a tailor-made child care provider and would be best served if we could find a full time nanny. I think. I have such a hard time deciding. And I feel inappropriately responsible for other people's well-being and livelihood, so it makes deciding all the more difficult as I enter all those factors in. Ugh.
The older two have the school sponsored "Latch Key" program offered after school until 5:30 that is a viable, albeit not preferred option. (E learned a lot of things that as a Kindergartner he should not have been exposed to during his tenure there last year. I do not relish the same happening for Mags.) So while I'd prefer them to have a different option than Latch Key, it is sufficient. Therefore, for the time being this will be our solution. Not my favorite & I hope not long term, but doesn't require much else because there just really are not many other options.
Hank has options - lots and lots of options. (To the point I'm overwhelmed and going to write a ridiculously long blog post about it.) There's the "Church Sponsored Day Care Center" option, high on Herd O' Cattle tendencies. Then there's the "In Home Day Care" options that are high on personal idiosyncrasies of the provider. There are a lot of "PreSchool/ Day Care" (PSDC for short. giggle.) combo options also, but most of those have special requirements for being potty-trained and/or 3 years old. Henry is not either. Which should rule all those out.
However, we keep returning to the PSCD because one of my illustrious neighbor has an in-home PreSchool/Day Care that Henry was enrolled in for the fall. It's just that he never actually went there due to my quick exit from my former job. This PSCD has both requirements, but also a loophole, which calls for accepting a child who is potty-trained when school starts and will be 3 by Thanksgiving (Hank fulfills the latter, but fails miserably at the former). In August the PSCD neighbor called for my final decision on Hank's attendance & I was not prepared. I said yes out of fear of rudeness, lack of planning and wishful thinking (my mother-in-law had promised to take him for a week and return him potty trained), but didn't feel sure of my answer. I went to the "Parent Night" and was flakey. We left early. We failed to show on the First Day of School. All of those reasons enough to make me want to move out of the neighborhood and never see them again.
However, tonight I called the PSCD neighbor (mostly because I was told by another neighbor that it would be rude not to call. "They'll see your car is gone" being implied). I had a long discussion on potty-training methods with PSCD teacher. I ended the conversation saying I wasn't sure it was a good fit & I'd talk with my husband about it and let her know. I must admit, I don't want Hank to go there not because it's not a great day care, but because I pften leave conversations with said neighbor feeling condescended to, the recipient of advice in areas that I don't desire assistance. It's not her fault, I realize, it's mine: Obviously I haven't potty-trained Hank because I'm lazy and undisciplined. If I would only apply myself to this task, it would work itself out. So now I sit, yet again at the crossroads of diapers-forever & potty training & I do not want to take the road to potty training. I do believe that I could assert myself to the task of potty training this week and spend the entire of my waking energy focused on that OR I can enjoy my last week before returning to work and continue to buy diapers, even though I know my son is developmentally able to control his bladder and sphincter enough to choose when to use the toilet. Why must I not potty train him and continue in my selfish use of time this week? What is wrong with me?
I keep thinking about what a nice place it would be for Henry to be. It's orderly, organized and run by someone who loves Jesus. There are only 4 kids there. It's really fabulous. I want to send him there. I want to put the big kids on the bus then walk Hank to the neighbor's house and be done with my childcare responsibilities every day at 7:45am. Bada boom, bada bing! It's the cheapest place I've looked at, as well! I can't figure out if I'm uncomfortable with Henry going there, uncomfortable with feeling talked down-to by the sitter or if I just plain don't want to be that enmeshed with the neighbors. I want to want him to go there. But I don't.
I have also found a nice place for Hank about 10 minutes north of here. It's a friend of a friend, a really trustworthy lady who by herself manages 10 kids. Well, my son would be the 10th. We went for a while today & it was quite amazing. She somehow managed really well, making 10 kids not seem like 10 kids. It truly was remarkable to watch & I think it would be a great place for Hank. I'm not without reservations about the "census" there (day care speak for number of kids), but somehow I just feel good about it. It has my favorite things in a day care: lunch provided, no potty-training requirement and a non-judgemental caregiver. That just feels so shallow of me to articulate, and yet I do feel that way.
Another piece of this puzzle is that we really would like to find a nanny. We haven't advertised our desire that way, yet, but it is becoming our preference. The No Potty place would not mind us coming for a while and then changing our mind. Her financial future does not hang in the balance whether or not we come. I like that. And the PSDC place closes at 5pm each day, when I finish work - no buffer time. I just don't like not having a buffer.
So I'm going with my gut. I'm going with "Latchama Key" as Mags calls it & the No Potty Place. I'm ok with that for now. And I don't have sick days or Fall Break or Spring Break worked out yet. But that will come as it comes, I think. And that's that.
The older two have the school sponsored "Latch Key" program offered after school until 5:30 that is a viable, albeit not preferred option. (E learned a lot of things that as a Kindergartner he should not have been exposed to during his tenure there last year. I do not relish the same happening for Mags.) So while I'd prefer them to have a different option than Latch Key, it is sufficient. Therefore, for the time being this will be our solution. Not my favorite & I hope not long term, but doesn't require much else because there just really are not many other options.
Hank has options - lots and lots of options. (To the point I'm overwhelmed and going to write a ridiculously long blog post about it.) There's the "Church Sponsored Day Care Center" option, high on Herd O' Cattle tendencies. Then there's the "In Home Day Care" options that are high on personal idiosyncrasies of the provider. There are a lot of "PreSchool/ Day Care" (PSDC for short. giggle.) combo options also, but most of those have special requirements for being potty-trained and/or 3 years old. Henry is not either. Which should rule all those out.
However, we keep returning to the PSCD because one of my illustrious neighbor has an in-home PreSchool/Day Care that Henry was enrolled in for the fall. It's just that he never actually went there due to my quick exit from my former job. This PSCD has both requirements, but also a loophole, which calls for accepting a child who is potty-trained when school starts and will be 3 by Thanksgiving (Hank fulfills the latter, but fails miserably at the former). In August the PSCD neighbor called for my final decision on Hank's attendance & I was not prepared. I said yes out of fear of rudeness, lack of planning and wishful thinking (my mother-in-law had promised to take him for a week and return him potty trained), but didn't feel sure of my answer. I went to the "Parent Night" and was flakey. We left early. We failed to show on the First Day of School. All of those reasons enough to make me want to move out of the neighborhood and never see them again.
However, tonight I called the PSCD neighbor (mostly because I was told by another neighbor that it would be rude not to call. "They'll see your car is gone" being implied). I had a long discussion on potty-training methods with PSCD teacher. I ended the conversation saying I wasn't sure it was a good fit & I'd talk with my husband about it and let her know. I must admit, I don't want Hank to go there not because it's not a great day care, but because I pften leave conversations with said neighbor feeling condescended to, the recipient of advice in areas that I don't desire assistance. It's not her fault, I realize, it's mine: Obviously I haven't potty-trained Hank because I'm lazy and undisciplined. If I would only apply myself to this task, it would work itself out. So now I sit, yet again at the crossroads of diapers-forever & potty training & I do not want to take the road to potty training. I do believe that I could assert myself to the task of potty training this week and spend the entire of my waking energy focused on that OR I can enjoy my last week before returning to work and continue to buy diapers, even though I know my son is developmentally able to control his bladder and sphincter enough to choose when to use the toilet. Why must I not potty train him and continue in my selfish use of time this week? What is wrong with me?
I keep thinking about what a nice place it would be for Henry to be. It's orderly, organized and run by someone who loves Jesus. There are only 4 kids there. It's really fabulous. I want to send him there. I want to put the big kids on the bus then walk Hank to the neighbor's house and be done with my childcare responsibilities every day at 7:45am. Bada boom, bada bing! It's the cheapest place I've looked at, as well! I can't figure out if I'm uncomfortable with Henry going there, uncomfortable with feeling talked down-to by the sitter or if I just plain don't want to be that enmeshed with the neighbors. I want to want him to go there. But I don't.
I have also found a nice place for Hank about 10 minutes north of here. It's a friend of a friend, a really trustworthy lady who by herself manages 10 kids. Well, my son would be the 10th. We went for a while today & it was quite amazing. She somehow managed really well, making 10 kids not seem like 10 kids. It truly was remarkable to watch & I think it would be a great place for Hank. I'm not without reservations about the "census" there (day care speak for number of kids), but somehow I just feel good about it. It has my favorite things in a day care: lunch provided, no potty-training requirement and a non-judgemental caregiver. That just feels so shallow of me to articulate, and yet I do feel that way.
Another piece of this puzzle is that we really would like to find a nanny. We haven't advertised our desire that way, yet, but it is becoming our preference. The No Potty place would not mind us coming for a while and then changing our mind. Her financial future does not hang in the balance whether or not we come. I like that. And the PSDC place closes at 5pm each day, when I finish work - no buffer time. I just don't like not having a buffer.
So I'm going with my gut. I'm going with "Latchama Key" as Mags calls it & the No Potty Place. I'm ok with that for now. And I don't have sick days or Fall Break or Spring Break worked out yet. But that will come as it comes, I think. And that's that.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Decisions
Life is full of decisions. Cornell researchers have found that people make over 200 decisions PER DAY just regarding food!
Most days we make mundane decisions with barely a thought: when to get out of bed, when to go to the bathroom, when to sneeze, when to go to bed, what store to shop at. Even what foods we buy and which clothes in our wardrobe we wear become routine. The choice becomes less of a decision than a habit. As choices become habits, they barely get our cognitive attention, because they are rote. When we decide to change a behavior, decisions that are usually rote come to the front of our consciousness and receive more profound attention.
This, I believe, is why change is so emotionally taxing.
When we decide to change ONE thing in our lives, it disrupts our routines. Many mundane or rote decisions must get more of our cognitive attention, thereby creating more decisions. What in the routine of life is a foregone conclusion must be decided in a new way when our lives are sent out of order. This, I believe is the case when someone decides to do anything different be it deciding to diet, add an exercise routine, or even just join a new group or club. But enter a BIG change - moving or job change, a new child or a marriage - and your life is sent into a new gear. Additional choices are required while our brains reset to our "new normal."
It's been six weeks now that I've not been working. Job change is a BIG change, I believe. I've developed a routine by accident in this time and find that I'm not exactly using my time as I would prefer. I love the structure that routine affords me, and I find myself adrift when it's lacking. So the one decision - to quit my job- leads to a plethora of decisions I wasn't anticipating.
I have to remember that I'm not stuck. Be reminded that my new, albeit accidental, routine is not set in stone and decide to DECIDE on how my time will be spent, what my priorities are and how I will choose to invest my energies. Today I'm deciding to decide.
Happenstance isn't a choice. Serendipity is foolish. But choosing has both intrinsic and incidental rewards. So today I'm resetting. Renewing. Re-deciding.
Most days we make mundane decisions with barely a thought: when to get out of bed, when to go to the bathroom, when to sneeze, when to go to bed, what store to shop at. Even what foods we buy and which clothes in our wardrobe we wear become routine. The choice becomes less of a decision than a habit. As choices become habits, they barely get our cognitive attention, because they are rote. When we decide to change a behavior, decisions that are usually rote come to the front of our consciousness and receive more profound attention.
This, I believe, is why change is so emotionally taxing.
When we decide to change ONE thing in our lives, it disrupts our routines. Many mundane or rote decisions must get more of our cognitive attention, thereby creating more decisions. What in the routine of life is a foregone conclusion must be decided in a new way when our lives are sent out of order. This, I believe is the case when someone decides to do anything different be it deciding to diet, add an exercise routine, or even just join a new group or club. But enter a BIG change - moving or job change, a new child or a marriage - and your life is sent into a new gear. Additional choices are required while our brains reset to our "new normal."
It's been six weeks now that I've not been working. Job change is a BIG change, I believe. I've developed a routine by accident in this time and find that I'm not exactly using my time as I would prefer. I love the structure that routine affords me, and I find myself adrift when it's lacking. So the one decision - to quit my job- leads to a plethora of decisions I wasn't anticipating.
I have to remember that I'm not stuck. Be reminded that my new, albeit accidental, routine is not set in stone and decide to DECIDE on how my time will be spent, what my priorities are and how I will choose to invest my energies. Today I'm deciding to decide.
Happenstance isn't a choice. Serendipity is foolish. But choosing has both intrinsic and incidental rewards. So today I'm resetting. Renewing. Re-deciding.
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