A story about yoga.

I can't decide if I like yoga or not. I have a bad track record with yoga. One year in college, I think it was freshman year, I convinced Kate to go to a yoga class with me. We went every week for maybe 5 or 6 weeks. And then we went the next week, I got there late and led the two of us into the room where everyone was already in the middle of doing it but suddenly I didn't recognize the people and worried we walked into the wrong class. So I did what any normal person would do--I bolted out of the room and never returned. It would have been too embarrassing to go back. Who runs out of a yoga class and then shows their face again?

Fast forward 9 years, I decided to hit up a yoga class at my gym one night this week, for no other reason than nothing else to do and I sensed Kate needed a break from roommate time now that she is living in the dining room. I certainly did not need yoga to help me relax this summer, as I'm pretty sure if I became any more relaxed I would just be dead.

The kind of yoga is this class is vinyasa, which I learned means that all the poses flow from one pose to the next. That was good because you don't really stop in between to give your arms or back or whatever a break and resulted in a few sore muscles the following day. But the whole thing is kind of weird to me. Maybe I'm just not into the whole "spiritual/in touch with nature" part of it and prefer to do calm relaxing things on my own and not a gym floor with 10 other people? But after an hour of flowing from downward dog to warrior 2 and triangle pose (except she used all the Indian names for these so I was totally confused for an hour...) we lied on the floor while the teacher rubbed her hands over our faces and pushed your shoulders to the floor. It was really weird and took every bit of my concentration to try not to laugh. But I was eventually pushed over my limit when she then rang a little bell several times, I guess to signal that the quiet time was ending. It sounded like a dog bell. I don't know, I suppose I might try it again another week. If anything, maybe it'll be a good exercise in self control to keep myself from laughing in awkward situations.

Summer.

Summer is great.

Summer is even better than great. It's my favorite.

Flip flops, long days, warm nights. Green stuff growing all over the place (I mean outdoors, not moldy food), not shivering under 6 layers of blankets, spending lots of time outside. What's not to love?

Though I have to admit, I'm kind of excited to go back to school. I know though that come August 24th it'll be hard to remember I ever said that. It's just that I'm a routine-loving kind of girl, and my summer totally lacks routine. During the school year, I know pretty much what I'm going to be doing down the exact minute each day.

But this summer? Well, I go to bed not knowing exactly what I'm doing the next day. I might get up and if it's not too hot, read on the roof deck in my pajamas. Or make an iced tea and wander around the neighborhood. Or go for a bike ride downtown. Or stay up late to watch David Letterman because Taylor Lauttner is on. Er... did I say that out loud?

Anyway, I've got most mornings free, except for a few weeks later this month and in July when I'm babysitting in the morning. But I've got mornings to kill for now, and then a couple of hours of babysitting or tutoring in the afternoons. It's great, but I do like a little more structure. I need a project, or a goal (other than packing up and getting ready to move, because it's 87 degrees in my apartment right now and just typing is making me sweat).

Anyone have a project suggestion, or just need a personal assistant for Monday, Tuesday, or Friday mornings??

Today

Today it reached 90 degrees. In Boston. In the first week of April. It was just a few weeks ago that I was bundled up in a winter coat because it was snowing. I went skiing 3 weeks ago. Today I wore a tank top and skirt on the roof and questioned why I don't live in a place that has warmer weather more of the year.


Today during the middle of teaching my writing lesson I tried to balance a big thing of chart paper along with a bunch of posters I had taped up to an easel, when some of the posters began to fall and I needed several hands to help pick everything up.

One of my sweet girls said, "You have a lot of stuff!" This is the conversation that followed (all whispering, but within earshot)
N: It's because she's a mom.
E: No she's not a mom!
N: Yeah, that's why she has so much stuff.
E: No, she's 25 years old (Not sure where that number came from)
N: Oh.
E: And her name is Stacy.


Also today, I discovered my new favorite way to eat oatmeal! I have a big bag of frozen blueberries (that I picked over the summer, so they're huge and delicious and not from a supermarket). I slightly defrost them, then cook the oatmeal in the microwave. Then I stir in a little strawberry preserves, and mix in the blueberries to they are pretty much thawed, but still kind of cool in the middle.

DEEEE-LICIOUS!!

Hip Hop Hooray

Yes, that's HIP HOP hooray.

I've found the perfect thing to get my mind off of the little monsters that I call my students. I think about them while I eat dinner. I think about them while falling asleep. I often think of them when I get up, and during the night I tend to plan lessons in my dreams. But twice a week, when I go to my Turbokick class, I get a whole hour where the thought of school does not enter my mind once, and it's fantastic.

My class turned out to be much different from what I expected. I sort of expected more kickboxing, less hip hop. It was the opposite. But I haven't run crying from the room yet. I watch myself doing moves called "Soldier Boy" and "Check your watch" in the mirror, and just giggle at myself. It has set music and we learn a routine to it. In fact, here's the part we learned last week:



FYI, that very first move right after the sirens is the move that we call "Check your watch." Doesn't it look like that's what they're doing? This is week 4 out of 8. The teacher said we can wear costumes when we learn the whole thing, but I think she might have been kidding.

Just in case, though, I'm hunting for a sequin hat and some black high tops. And perhaps a new set of students.

Persistence

This post has no point. Then again, do any of mine really have an important point?

On with it anyway.

My whole life, I've wanted to like oatmeal. I don't really know why I've been so persistent about it. Maybe because both my parents really like it and eat it a lot, and my mom always raved about how much she liked oatmeal. So when I was little, each time my mom made oatmeal, I asked for some too. I wanted to get what she got out of oatmeal. I tried it sweet, with cinnamon or sugar (brown sugar, regular sugar, and all combinations). I added raisins. I tried it with just salt, like my mom ate it. Nothing.

Finally, maybe 6 months ago, I started to like it. I found the perfect combination of salt and sugar. And then I began to ween myself off of some of the sugar and salt, since the two tablespoons of sugar I was dumping in the bowl sort of negated the healthiness of the oatmeal. And now I've gotten to the point where it's a filling, but mostly healthy snack or breakfast that I eat at least 4 times a week. I LOVE OATMEAL.

So naturally, I've been on the lookout for other oatmeal ideas since I like oatmeal for what it is finally. I tried stirring in about a tablespoon of strawberry preserves---delicious! I also read about adding some peanut butter and fruit. I'm thinking about trying some bananas with it.

Anyone know any good oatmeal ideas from one proud oatmeal lover to the next? I'm a bit sad that it took me almost 28 years to finally like the stuff.

Consensus on the census

I'll bet you didn't know that last week was a special week---Census in schools week! How fun! There's a week for everything! It was a Massachusetts Department of Ed thing (though maybe it was happening in all states?), pushed down to towns and cities because Massachusetts was one of the most under-counted in the last census. It was then pushed down on the schools from the superintendent because the city where I teach was one of the most under-counted in the state. It's no surprise, really; the city is a sanctuary city for illegal immigrants. Almost all of my students have parents who are immigrants (and many of my students are too), but I have no clue how many of them are legal.

So, I taught a few lessons in the afternoons about what the census is, why it's so important to do it (new schools! playgrounds! enough hospitals!), and encouraging them to tell their parents all about it. We spent most of the time talking about what happens when the census takers come to your house and the fact that they only want to count you and don't care if you're a citizen or not.

I gave my class a few small census-related homework assignments, the last of which they had to interview an adult about the last census. One-third of my class chose not to do their homework, because my class blows. Out of the rest of them, some had parents who weren't living in the country yet, a few reported that their parents filled out the last census and wrote about that, and the rest found out various reasons why their parents didn't complete the last census. Sadly, a bunch wrote that their parents didn't have time or didn't know it was important. And one, THE one who gets me through each day because she actually wants to learn, and whose parents I assumed knew the importance, had a disappointing interview. Her response to the question "Did you know that your answers to census questions are kept confidential and not shared with others?" "My mom said it is a liy." And furthermore, "What did you learn during your interview?" "I think it is to count poeple but if you didn't come with immergration papers after the census they cent people to their countrys back." It's awfully frustrating knowing I took time out of our jam-packed day trying to get the kids excited to encourage their parents to take part, and this is what we're working with.

Also, there's like 60 something school days left, and I couldn't be happier.

Also part 2, I'm watching Ryan Seacrest interviewing Miley Cyrus on the red carpet Oscar before-show. Who knew she sounded like such a redneck?

In like a lion

Tomorrow is March! MARCH! Hooray!

I've been looking forward to March 1st for a long time. Like a month or so.

March is the first month where there are days that, while they don't exactly feel like spring, hint that spring will eventually come. February 28 is so cold and snowy and wintery, but March 1 is an entirely different kind of day in my book.

Daylight savings starts this month! I am 128 times happier when there is more sunlight at the end of the day.

March is the month where baseball gets going! Spring is coming!

March 1 is the day I get to go to my 3rd (of 4!) conference training thingy for this social skills program at my school. It's the most relaxing and fun training, and it's made better by the fact that I can look at the clock and know that my students are in literacy, or math, or whatever, and I don't have to be the one dealing with those hellions. I mean children.

March 1 is the first day of my kickboxing class! If you had asked me to tell my thoughts on the gym 3 months ago, I would have said "Blech! Gym! Stupid, stupid gym!" But that was because I had been paying since December '08 but hadn't been since April '08. And for those few months that I DID go, all I did was run on the treadmill and it was really boring. But then in January I discovered that there are fun classes that I love. And then mid-January I discovered that I don't really care if I look like an idiot prancing around the room because at least I'm moving and sweating. So when they announced there would be a new kickboxing class, and that it's a "fusion of hip hop dance and kickboxing," I got excited. I'm going to look like an idiot and I don't mind!

Ahhh, March.