Ashes to Ashes
Today was a pretty hard day. Yet again I could not get through the church service without a melt down. Today the crux of it was this--what I really want is to give up all of this sadness and desire for change, but I have no idea how to make that happen.
I guess I just need to counteract the sadness whenever possible. Here are 5 good things that happened today:
1)a parent emailed to tell me how much she loved an assignment I gave out
2)our faculty meeting was cut short
3)I saw blooms on a few trees meaning spring cannot be too far behind.
4)I'm sitting in my newly redone office and drinking in my peaceful surroundings
5)I came home to the person I love (and even the troublesome cat and dog)

There. . . that wasn't so hard. . .

Like Alanis Said. . .
It's all Toby's fault. Well, technically Clementine is also apparently lacking.

We talked to our social worker yesterday about why the mother picked the other couple, and apparently the only thing she said was that she liked the other couple's dogs and cats. As we discussed pets with her, the only conclusion I can draw is that she finds issue with Toby and Clem. I too am annoyed at them because they keep me up half of the night. I just didn't know they were a deal breaker!
For some reason rather than making me mad or breaking my heart, this piece of information just give me the giggles. I laughed about it for about 30 minutes last night while Eric was trying to sleep. God help us.

To celebrate Mardi Gras we hit I-H-O-P's free pancake deal after the gym tonight. Happy tummy.
As Lent begins I am going to make a conscious effort to complain less and try to remain positive more often. I've done this before, but it's never been so important as it is this year.
This leaves me only a few hours to bitch about Toby.

Carving Space. . . and Battling
Yesterday E and I finally redid our office space. For 3 years we have basically just shut the door of that room, too disgusted by it to even consider using it. Thanks, however, to a few coats of paint, several trips to IKEA and hours of hard work what we have is my dream space--one that I can work, read, and create in (it also doubles as a guest room). I wanted to get this done before heading back to school because I knew I needed a place that was conducive to work. I also wanted to stake my claim and have a place that was my refuge. I think we created it.
Some of the day, through both sweat and excitement, I managed to live in the now; other parts, however, were considerable more difficult. The destructive question that keeps rearing its ugly head is "Why am I not good enough?" What did I do that makes this dream of having a family impossible? How is my body not able to have children? What made the first mother decide to parent--was it something I did? Why did this latest girl think we were not good enough to parent? I really thought the last interview was amazing. I got off the phone feeling we had really made a connection. Therefore, what am I missing? What can I do?
I know these questions are neither logical nor helpful, but they are what takes up space in my head right now. I am a worker. I want to work to fix this, but I have no idea where to begin.
I try to be a good person, but maybe I need to be a better one. I am launching self improvement 3.1--elimintate swearing, say only nice things about people, recycle more, go to church more. I understand the ridiculousness of this, but at least it's something I can do.
We got an update letter yesterday, and from now until July, there are only 3 mothers that they would even show our profile to. I've got to do something.

I've Got Good News
If you like bad news.

Not us.

Again.

Shit.

I think that sums it up nicely.

No News
That about sums it up.
We need to find out something soon because my stomach is killing me!
Keep the good vibes coming!

Promising
Two bits of news:
1)When I arrived home this evening, I found an email waiting from the admissions crew at TCU. They are offering me their highest fellowship--a full ride plus a generous stipend and no duties. I still want to go to SMU more, but at least I'm in somewhere!
2) The interview with the mother went so well. I felt instantly bonded to her,and I thought the conversation was great. It was everything the first conversation with the last one was not. We will most likely find out some more information tomorrow. For now I am cautiously hopeful.
Keep sending the positive vibes--they are working!

On Call
Our social worker just called. A mother has selected us for a phone interview. She is also interviewing another couple.
We will talk to her tomorrow, and then she might make a decision later in the week. I am not going to post any more details right now for everyone's privacy.
I am just happy that something is moving again. I had been reaching despair level for the last few weeks.
I am nervous. I am excited. I am ready for life 2.0.

Overheard at the National Dog Championship
"Yeah, Charlie, we've really watched this bitch come a long way in her career."

I guess the real question is why I am watching the Eukanuba championship in the first place.

Weekend Acomplishments
1. Led successful march aginst apostrophe errors
2. Saw Brahmas successfully hold on to 1st place in the CHL
3. Introduced Petey to Grapevine's finest margarita
4. Broke 100 in bowling
5. Had a roaring fire w/my valentine
6. Saw the amazing Coraline--even better than a jumping mouse circus!
7. Power lifted
8. Made a terrific beet-carrot slaw
9. Saved $12 w/coupons!
10.Finished all the weekend crosswords
11.Was reminded yet again how how much I love my husband.

Viva La Revolution!

 

A Little Madness in Almost Spring
I've incited a revolution. The city of Birmingham in England has banned the use of apostrophes in city documents, road signs, and mailing addresses. As a grammarian, I was outraged. I thus wrote the letter below to the City Council. I then proceded to unleash chaos.
I read the letter to the students after teaching a unit on apostrophes. THen we learned about business letters, and we wrote letters to the council. Today we made signs, banners, and created chants, for tomorrow we take to the streets in protest. We are going to march through the neighborhoods chanting for the lowly flying comma. Examples include:
123's ABC's--they all need apostrophes!
Show possession, show show possession!
Bring back the apostrophe. . . we want English the way it was meant to be!!

Everyone in the school has since gotten into it--the kids have made apostrophe hats, shirts, banners, and the band has decided to play as we walk down the street. The protest will be video taped, and the principal has threatened to call the news media to alert them to the even.

Everyone needs a little whimsy sometimes.

Here's the letter:
City Council Members
Birmingham City Council
Council House
Victoria Square
Birmingham, England B1 1BB

To whom it may concern:
I feel it necessary to lodge a protest against your recent degradation of the English language. The banishment of the apostrophe from addresses and street signs is an assault against not only grammar but also the concept of following rules and adhering to what is right.
The apostrophe is not some fusty punctuation mark that has seen better days; rather, it is an integral part of the English tradition. When Councilor Martin Mullaney claimed, “They confuse people. If I want to go to a restaurant, I don’t want to have an A-level in English to find it” he really demeans the intelligence of those he serves. As a teacher of grammar and composition, I spend quite a bit of time teaching punctuation rules. The comma (that little minx!) has over seventeen rules, some of which are open to interpretation. Even the semi-colon and the colon can be a little difficult to interpret. The apostrophe, in contrast, has only three rules and takes up only a page in a text book. If my sixth, seventh, and eighth graders can quickly and easily master the concept in one lesson, surely it would not take intensive study for the undoubtedly intelligent people of Birmingham. I would be willing to give lessons!
More than simply violating the rules of grammar, set down to aide and regulate communication, your denigration of the humble apostrophe sends a distressing message to today’s youth. (Note the use of apostrophe!) The policy of the City of Birmingham tells young people that it is okay to take short cuts, that close enough is good enough, and that one need not follow those rules that might be inconvenient. As a teacher these are attitudes that I battle every day, and I didn’t (another apostrophe!) think that such an esteemed city would espouse the view that rules, customs and traditions are worthless. We must fight the dumbing down of society, not aide it. As civic leaders, you have a responsibility to promote competence, hard work and attention to detail rather than falling prey to the “everybody’s doing it, why shouldn’t we?” excuses.
Apostrophes, far from being old fashioned and confusing, help to provide order to an often disorderly world. I humbly ask that you reconsider this affront to the Queen’s English.

With respect,

Amanda Bresie


If you can, please send your own letter. Stop this atrocity!
Days like today I rememer why I got into this gig.

Amy Likes To. . .
According to Google, here's what I like to do
1. Amy likes to pretend she's a rockstar
2. likes to search for bird nests and baby animals
3. likes to do all sorts of things
4. likes to start these posts about herself
5. likes to play with feet
6. likes to play pretend
7. likes to go Rrrrrr
8. likes to do the cooking
9. likes to read books and tell her friends what stories she has read
10. likes to avoid word and do silly memes

I must say I have to violently disagree with the birds and feet--I hate both. In fact if I could I would rid the world of its bird population, and I would make it illegal for anyone to show his or her feet in public (heck I"m not thrilled about private feet). I make E wear socks at all times!
The rest of it fits, though. I do like to go RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! I liked pirates before pirates were cool.

Retreat
As the 7th and 8th graders had a little mini retreat this morning, I had the opportunity to catch up on paper work, do a little lesson planning, and just generally regrain some control of my desk. Just that extra two hours made a difference in my ability to handle the world. Despite having to stay late for a meeting and then hitting the gym, for the first time in a long time I did not come home mentally and physically exhausted.
As I was leaving I popped in the classroom of a friend. She told me that her 5th grade class prays for E and I every day. She also said that she has a student who was adopted, and he came up to her to give me a message. He said, "She can't give up because there are so many babies out there who need her. She looks like she would be good." It was just the little kick start I needed.
The kids went on a retreat. . . and I got spiritual renewal.

OW
New kickboxing instructor.
Pain.
Cannot move legs.
It's worth it, right?

In bonus news. ..I'm digging pseudo spring. I can do 70 in early February.

Today, despite being frazzled and overworked and the pain which really goes from fingers to toes, I feel a little lighter. It's not much, but I'll tke it. Perhaps it has something to do with yummy bok choy for dinner!

Wait
Last night's gala was marked by disco music, go go boots, a naughty photo booth, wild dancing and an open bar. I wasn't really drinking which made the evening great people watching. I got to see a few former students which is always a joy. I love seeing how they turn out. I also had a few parents offer some truly kind words--one told me that I made a huge impact on her daughter's life because I was the first one to believe in her academically. The crappy thing about this whole process is that even a good night was tinged with sadness. I was at a place where hundreds of people were gathered together for the sole purpose of supporting their children. I want to be in that place where I can offer the same love and support to my own.
Today I spent some time with a fellow waiting parent--it was so refreshing to talk to someone who knows the archeology of the layers of hope and pain and angst of this process.
On one of the blogs I read, a waiting mother wrote asking for advice for handling the agony of the wait. I did not respond because I have no answers, but as I am an obsessively goal oriented person, perhaps I should create a list of tasks to accomplish while I wait.
1. Redo the office--paint the walls, buy desk, reorganize, create a space that I feel comfortable working in
2. Re-sod the front yard
3. Create a raised bed around the tree where no grass will grow
4. Become better at yoga
5. Read as much as possible
6. Bake my own bread
It's a start of a plan.

A Noble Roman
Last night we had the opportunity to participate in a unique theatre experience. A small theatre company put on a slightly experimental production of Julius Caesar at the botanical garden. Since the evening combined my favorite things, Shakespeare, a free admission, proximity to the house, and the opportunity for some blanket snuggling, we leaped at the chance. I am thankful that we did because there were only about 10 people in the audience. The result was the most amazingly intimate theatre experience I've had, well, perhaps ever.
The put on the entire play with a cast of only 10--the cast also doubled as the crew, changing scenery, providing music, adjusting lights, and flowing from role to role. Some cast members had 6 or 7 parts. The most impressive choices, however, were the casting of Cassius and Brutus. Cassius was cast as a sexy temptress--I've never seen the role played by a woman, but it really worked. It cast a strange sort of sexual tension that played into the power struggles nicely. The metaphor of seduction was powerful. Brutus was played by a young man--very Brando in On the Waterfront, with a sort of seething anger, dignity and determination. He was all passion and conviction. There were a few silly bits too--strange soothsayers waving sheets over bodies and the pulling of the cast from the audience, but overall I was too busy eating my yummy Central Market take out and being taken in by the Bard's rich language to notice the sour notes.
The intimacy of the experience--we were literally 2 feet away from the action--reminded me once again why I prefer my action live rather than onscreen.

Tonight is the big school gala, so after my weight lifting class this morning I have a full day of pampering planned--a mani/pedi, shoe shopping and perhaps even a bubble bath. One of the parent sponsors of the event donated their hotel room to us, so we are turning it into a nice mini vacation.

Finally I have discovered that I am an unlikely soul sister. I was flipping through the channels on my sirius, and I've fallen in love with SoulTown. Who knew I would become obsessed with Barry White, Al Green, and Marvin Gaye?
Let's get it on.

These Streets are Made for Walking
Instead of jumping in the car, E and I grabbed Toby and actually walked to CVS to pick up a prescription.All told it was a little less than 4 miles, but it reminded me that this town is what we make of it. It seemed a little smaller and more itimate tonight.

A Gift
Today was another difficult day where I felt people pulling me in all directions. THat is until a student stopped me after school to hand me a small silver wrapped package. It contained a beautiful gold cross with a note saying they were thinking about me. That little gesture and the knowledge that no matter what I am not alone brought me immense comfort. I spend all day giving myself to my students, but they in turn give to me in so many intangile ways, and today in a tangible one. I am gratful for those gifts.
After bursting into tears when a colleague sent a forward with cute baby pictures in it, I also finally took a step forward. I researched and called a therapist who specializes in grief counselling. I am going to see her tomorrow. I am not sure if she can help me, but maybe just asking for help is a positive step. I don't really like asking for help, but perhaps this is just another in a series of steps leading to my relinquishing control.

Safe
I did not blow up today.
It was close, though.
There was a gas leak at school which led to us all having to spend almot an hour standing on the football field this afternoon. Of course the gas was actually outside, so all standing on the field did was make everyone ill.

It was a great day.

Luckily the evening held better things. I kicked and punched even harder than usual, and then Eric and I engaged in our yearly tradition: watching Groundhog Day. "Don't drive angry!" If I had to repeat a day, I hope it will be a day spent with my hubs.

Harden Not Your Heart
I'm having a really difficult time listening to that advice right now, despite knowing its wisdom. Despite knowing logically that it is there, I am havving a difficult time believing in hope and happiness. I am not sure what is wrong with me, but I sometimes feel like something is broken in my heart. This is not to say that I do not have good days or that I do not love my family and friends just as much as I used to, but. . .
This weekend was a little madcap. We got up at 4 am on Saturday to make it to San Antonio by 10, stopping to drop off Toby with Eric's parents. The session proved interesting. We found out almost by accident that things with the birth mother were not exactly what they seemed. Apparently she had actually delivered two weeks early and then was lying to everyone. The night before the alleged delivery, she even told the caseworker that she was still planning on going through with the adoption and would see her at the hospital--all while she already had the child at home! What incentive would she have to lie? All she had to do was call and say that she had changed her mind. I was respectful of her decision, but I am horrified at her deception. I can't imagine her motivation except that it bought her a few more weeks of financial support. I guess the good thing that has come out of this is that I never have to have anything to do with her again. We met this amazing woman who had relinquished a year or so ago, and while we were talking, I knew that I actually want to have a strong relationship with a birthmother, something I knew from the start that I would never have with Jaedi. The lawyer who was there said that when it is right, it feels like the hand of God has reached down. I knew from the beginning that things were not right with that birthmother, and I let my desire for this child cloud my judgement. Next time, if there ever is a next time, I will listen to my instincts.
The problem is that I have a problem believing that there will be a next time. My heart has become hard. Every time I get a fluttering of hope it is like a steel claw clamps down on my heart. I don't want to be like this. I hate feeling like I am wallowing in this pain, focusing on the negative. I want to be positive and happy. I want to trusting and open. I just don't know quite how to get there from here.