The 112 Hour Workweek

So I'm scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed. I see a single girl post about how she just finished working a 12 hour shift, and she is "too tired." I remember those days. Those days when I thought I knew what tired was...I had no idea.

I'm working from the moment I get out of the bed in the morning to the moment that I fall into the bed at night. I should be working as I type this post, actually. Let me give you an example of my day.

I get up earlier than anyone else in the house. Take a shower, fix my makeup, fix my hair. I wake The Nugget and Big G up so we can get ready for the day. One of us gets J dressed (I can't pretend like I do it all around here, Big G is a lot of help...most of the time), nurse him (that's ALL me :)), and get his food packed into his diaper bag. Then, we are all ready to leave the house. I'm lucky enough to have Big G take J to his grandmother's house most days, so I go straight to the school. I get  into my classroom around 7:30 and get ready for the day. I write my daily objectives, BDAs (before, during, and after), and weekly assignments on my agenda board, I change the date, and I get the Bell Ringers ready.

The bell rings and my students file in. "Can I use the restroom?" "I need to go back to my locker!?" "I couldn't do my homework last night because...""I need to go to the nurse...girl problems!" As I answer all of these questions, I have to make sure that everyone is starting on their Bell Ringer while simultaneously marking tardies, checking dress code, and welcoming students with a smile at my door. I'm super human, don't ya know!? All before 8am.

As the day goes on, kids file in an file out. I am in charge of loving them, teaching them, welcoming them, checking dress code, marking attendance, counting tardies, and watching for signs of abuse, drugs, alcohol, anger, etc., and making sure that they are learning something. (I know. I said teaching them...then I said I had to make sure they are learning something. These are two very different things. I'll explain that in its own post later.) All the while, I am trying to find a few minutes in the day to pump for J in privacy. I'm not even going to try to explain my pumping schedule. It's pretty much pump when you can and don't worry about it if you can't. At 1:51 I get my PLANNING PERIOD! Some people call this your 'free period'...these people are not teachers. Teachers know that your planning period is your daily time out from students and the fastest 50 minutes of the whole day. I usually spend my planning period trying to catch up on the things I am required to do. Many of these things are completely ridiculous, and I believe that they have nothing to do with actually helping my students learn (I update you on this in a later post as well!). Then the bell rings. We all get to go home. Our day is done...except its not.

If you are a mother, you know what I'm talking about. When I leave school I go get my baby. I don't know who is more excited when we finally get reunited! I take him home and we play. That doesn't sound like work to many people, but it really is. As enjoyable as it may be...it is a very tiring job! He is learning new things every day, and it is my job to give him to opportunities to learn and things to explore. We read, we sing, we play, we walk through the yard. We keep ourselves entertained until naptime. After I get J down for a little nap around 4:00, I run through the house trying to clean and straighten everything that I can before he wakes up. I have to wash my breast pump bottles, get supper started (if it's not in the slow cooker...more on that later, too!), wash, dry, and fold clothes, sweep the floor, you get the picture! I never finish what I start before J is finished with his nap.

Usually Big G is home by the time J wakes up. While I am finishing supper, Big G usually gets to his daily playtime in with The Nugget. Then we eat, we clean the kitchen, and we start our bedtime routine. Most nights we bathe, put on our pajamas, read a book, nurse, and lay down in the bed to go to sleep. This whole routine is usually over around 8:00, and J is down for the night. You'd think I'd be able to rest a little after I lay the boy down, but I don't. I start getting ready for the next day. I get his bottles/cups ready, his food ready (he eats homemade baby food...yep, more on that later, too!), and his diaper bag ready to be packed. I also try to finish what I started when J was napping earlier. By the time I finish cleaning up and getting ready for tomorrow, it is time to go to bed.

Whew! That wore me out just typing it, and that is just one day. Imagine the entire week!

I am not by any means saying that I have a difficult life. I love my life, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I have a wonderful husband who (usually) does his best to help. I am sure there are many people who have it a lot more difficult than me. I just know what my life used to be...boy, I had it easy.

Excuse The Mess, but We Live Here

My house is a mess. It doesn't particularly bother me when  my house is messy. Some people may look around my house and see a mess, but I see a million ways The Lord has blessed me and my family.

The toys strewn from one end of the living room to another remind me that I'm so blessed to be mother to this energetic, smart little boy. These toys remind me that my son is blessed with an extended family that cherish him and want to 'spoil' him with (among other things) toys. They remind me that my husband has been blessed with skills that help him provide for our family in such a way that our son can have a surplus of toys.

The dirty dishes in the sink tell me that I'm blessed to have food to eat. They let me know that we are blessed to be in the small percentage of the world that never has to worry about when we will eat again. These dirty dishes are a blessing. 

The piles and piles of dirty clothes show me that we're blessed to have clean clothes day in and day out. They are a reminder that be are blessed with the money to buy nice things. They tell me that it's a wonderful blessing to have a washing machine and dryer and running hot and cold water. 

The unmade king sized bed is a blessing; the dirty bathrooms with toilets and running water are a blessing; my sons room overflowing with clothes and toys is a blessing; the spare room full of junk and unused furniture is a blessing; I could go on and on. 

I'm sitting here thinking about how I need to clean this house up while I'm still on Christmas break. As I started to dread it and gripe about it, God told me not to complain about all the ways he has blessed me. I was reminded to be grateful, to be thankful of all the blessing I have...and to take care of them by doing my best to keep them clean and tidy. So, last words: While you're fussing about the trivial chores you must do, think about someone who would gladly trade their tiny shack for your big, messy house.

I've got to go do some cleaning. :)

The Christmas Lesson

The presents have been opened. The tree has been taken down. Christmas is over. J's first Christmas is over. I don't think I enjoyed it like I should have. Why? Because of my pity party. That's why.

You see, we have the Christmas Day festivities at our house. My To-Do list was a mile and a half long. Clean this, cook that, bake this, hide that..you know. I was a frazzled mess. It didn't help that The Nugget got sick with the flu three days before Christmas. It didn't help that Big G hurt his back and was out of work for more than a week. It didn't help that I haven't been able to put J  down for more than ten minutes at a time. Does it sound like I'm whining...I am. And that's exactly why I let my baby's first Christmas pass me by like I was a spectator at the Tour de France. I threw myself a pity party. I whined so much I got a headache. 

I should've gotten over myself...over my need to have everything perfect. My mother never had a spotless, Better Homes and Gardens house when she hosted. Sure it was always clean, but it was never perfect. And you know what? She enjoyed herself. And everyone at the party enjoyed themselves, too. 

Moral of the story: No one is going to remember the dust under your love seat. No one is going to remember the stack of bills you had to hide in the laundry room. No one is going to remember if your bed was made. What they will remember is how much fun they had. They will notice how much you and your baby were enjoying yourselves. They will remember how you made them feel. Make them feel welcome.

Solving for J

Why is this blog named 'Solving for J'? I'm the mother of an awesome little boy that we'll call J...or The Nugget. I'm also a pretty great high school math teacher (Hey! If I don't brag on myself, who will?). My life revolved around my classroom for my first three years of teaching. Big G (the hubs) got used to playing second fiddle to my papers, projects, and lesson plans. Then...I got pregnant. I was TERRIFIED. Actually...that may be an understatement. I was obsessed with the idea that somehow my new role as a mother would take away from my ability to teach. I even cried when I told my principal because I thought he'd be disappointed that I had other aspirations in life than just producing little mathematicians.

Long story short, I had my baby. Life went on.

I had another person take over my classroom while I was busy staring at my perfect little Nugget. She wasn't all that great, but my kids survived. Life as I knew it did not cease to exist without me. And ya know what? It was a great big blessing. I no longer stress over whether my notes are ready one month in advance. I no longer panic if my 'Bell Ringer' isn't posted before my kids walk into the room. I no longer feel like my identity is directly linked to my performance as a teacher.

Don't get me wrong. I still love my students, but I leave work at work now. No more lugging a week's worth of papers to grade home on Friday. No more spending all of Christmas break outlining notes for January. I work my butt off for my students between the hours of 7:00 and 3:30. The rest of my time is for J. It is now more important that spend what spare time I do have at home with my two boys. I work to make a living for my son, but teaching is no longer what I live for. And that's ok.