Career, Motherhood, Identity

I applied for a new job this week. An academic/career counselor at a local technical college. Pros: $11,000 more money to start than I make currently, teaching 6 credits a quarter, counseling (rather than case-management), shorter commute, and tenure-track. Cons: working 5 days a week (I work 4 currently), 10 month contract (rather than 9 months), and not guaranteed with my ‘at risk youth’ population I do love so much.

I applied within 2 hours of noticing it had come open. After two years at  my current job I have yet to officially apply to anything (I’ve searched, plenty), and thought this was a really great fit. And yet, after disclosing to some friends that I applied, I noticed some mixed responses. There’s Mari and my co-worker Bethany, who thought it sounded amazing and like I should go for it. Then there’s my co-instructor, who seemed stricken at the thought of me possibly leaving because ‘this place would fall apart if one of us just left suddenly,’ my buddy Russ who laughed and said, ‘of course you’ll get it, you are magic and always say you never get it but you manage to, though will you stay for longer than 7 months?” And my friend Amelia, who I went to coffee with today, who said, “I thought you loved your job, why are you thinking of leaving? You’ve only been there two years. You’ve managed to commit to a husband, why do you move jobs so much?”

I sometimes wonder if this is an adoptee symptom, grass is always greener mixed with the idea that once you like something it might change or go south, so I bail before that happens. Maybe. Or maybe I’m stuck in a social worker heart with a business world mindset. Nobody in a business setting would think my approach to job searching as anything to be ashamed of. They would admire my ability to be strategic, gather skills at a job and keep my eyes on the horizon for the next thing to come up, and my ability to jump ship when it’s sinking, so I don’t go down in flames. I was at my first non-profit for 7 months, my crisis counseling job for 16 months (12 working, since 4 were on maternity leave,) and now I’m starting year 3 at my college instructor job. If this was a business world, they would admire my ability to achieve career trajectory in 4 years post-graduate school.

I really love my job currently, with the exception of a few things, like incompetent leadership that drives me crazy. I have aspirations and feel dumbed down by my department, though that could be fixed if my boss, or the good ol’ boys network, would give me the freedom to create some classes that would make the program better. And tenure. That would be good, too. This could all be general musing in a theoretical situation, since the job is only posted for ten days, which I’ve learned from my time in higher education usually means there’s an internal candidate that they want to promote.

I felt defensive after coffee today. I know my friend meant well, but it irked me. Since Boof and I are loosely talking about having another kid, she’s like “but you’d be spending your whole pay raise on childcare?” And I said, ” yes, but without that pay raise, I’d be taking a PAY CUT to have another kid and pay for childcare.” Facepalm. I wonder, too, if this wanting a new job is a way for me to postpone the thought of trying for another kid (though if I got it, I’d have more freedom in when I got pregnant, not bound by my program’s inability to get a teacher to cover my classes, and at the new place I could have a baby whenever).

And maybe my friend is wrong. Maybe I can commit, but I don’t want to spend my time dicking around dating when I can move on and find a ‘husband.’ Maybe if I settle in to a tenure track position doing what I want, I would dive in feet first and build a lifelong love at that institution. Maybe I’ve just been dating losers, even ones I’ve liked well enough. Ya know?

How do you handle career trajectory? Do you jump at a chance to change jobs? Do you fantasize about leaving your current job for something else? 

On Starting Another Fall Quarter

I have fond memories of Indian Summer in Seattle. The air is warm, the nights are beginning to cool and get shorter, and there’s the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and new shoes all around. Fall feels like back to school, and it’s no wonder that this rhythm feels comforting to me. I love academia. I enjoyed my time in K-12 schooling, and certainly continued to enjoy my time in college and further on in graduate school. I enjoyed the school environment so much I got a job in Academia, and here I am, beginning my third year as a college instructor.

This quarter I had the privilege of teaching outside of my normal program, in a First Year Experience class with incoming freshman. It was so refreshing to teach my similar human development coursework to these bright eyed and bushy tailed incoming freshman. To create a mini community a week before classes start and see how they interact with the material. I loved it, even though I am exhausted from teaching 5 hours straight and then holding office hours. I remember that I’m an introvert.

And it makes me extremely pleased when students come up and ask me, ‘what class do you teach here? can I take it?’ Unfortunately I only teach classes in a program for students who’ve dropped out of high school, so they won’t be in one of my classes again. I guess it makes me think…is there something more for me? If these students wanted to take a class from me, what would it be? Would I like to someday teach Psychology 101, or English 101, or another course subject? And if I do want that, how do I go about getting there?

I forget how much I love teaching at this level.  I forget, when I’m in the overly frantic summer quarter off, trying to cram camping trips and house projects into my three months off, that I live for this academic school year rhythm. I am not sure that I would love it so much without the break, that it leaves room for me to come back in the Fall with an “Ah, yes, this is what I’m meant to do.”

But it leaves me thinking, pondering, reflecting, on where I am and where I want to go in the future. I know that this is right for me right now. I absolutely believe that. I think it’ll be right for me for a little bit more, at least, but then what? Where is this ship going?

To-Do=Ta Da!

You too could wear these beauts!

Just when I thought I was going to turn into the world’s slackeriest professor, I got my buns in gear and made a few to-do lists. And, to put things in perspective, I made a few to-done lists of things that I have already been doing, which just shows that I haven’t been on Pinterest as much as I thought (though too much for work hours, perhaps?). Working hard actually feels good, and I want to contribute to the general well-being of my students. I’m floating on cloud 9, today, after getting the opportunity to help one student get signed up for GED classes and for another student to begin processing some life experiences hindering their school performance. Being in the presence of such strong, motivated, beautiful people really is why I do this job! And much better than pushing paperwork around on my desk!

While I’m flying high in some respects, though, I am feeling a major caffeine/life-crash, which is probably due to Potamus’ new daycare germs in my mouth and hands and face from all his love-pats through the evening and night. His arms are getting longer and longer and it’s harder for me to squirm away (on our twin size mattress on the floor) when he wants to comfort himself by sticking his grubby little mitts in my mouth. My immune system is lagging, which I blame on daycare and the horrible Seattle January weather. Could it be any darker and rainier this week? I think not. The radio announcers said “sunrise will be at 7:55 this morning” on my commute and I almost groaned. 7:55? I will have been up for 3 hours+ by then, and when they say “sun up” they mean in California, because I’ve looked outside all day today and there has been no sun in sight. And if you respond to this with “yeah, but you live in Seattle,” you’ve clearly not visited us in the summer, when the birds are singing and the tourists are sweating through cheese-making tutorials at Pike’s Market.

Despite feeling less than 100%, which I’m scared to admit might become my new 100% as weariness begins settling into my bones, I have managed to keep at my Couch-5k running plan. I haven’t yet blogged about my running adventures because I’m always afraid to jinx things like this. But I am proud to say that I am halfway week 3 of the plan and so far it seems to be working at getting me in shape AND keeping me motivated to run. Because my go-to in the past went something like this: a) get the bright idea to run a 5k race, b) put on my running shoes, c) attempt to run a 5k TODAY, d) get to my mailbox, get winded, OR run for about 60 seconds down the road, get winded, walk home, e) feel like a tool for failing at something so “easy” as running a 5k (or even 1/4 of a mile), f) wake up the next morning sore and totally unmotivated to try again. Sound familiar? I’ve done silly things like that all the time, but this time it’s different. This time I’m motivated to run, but am only allowed to do it for 60 seconds, and then walk for 90. What?! The little carrot in front of me is getting closer and closer, and now I am up to 3 minutes in a row. WOO! I look ahead at week 5 or 6 and start to crap my pants (run for 28 minutes, wha?!!!), but know that it will happen in time. And the worst case is walking the 5k. It’s about DOING it, not running it faster than those Olympic runners.

In other news, Potamus is settling in to the daycare routine pretty nicely. He hasn’t been 100% himself, and it’s taking a little to adjust, though the adjustment AT daycare is going pretty well, it’s the adjustment to also going back to grandma’s that’s a little harder (more on her, than on him actually!). I’ve had Boof call and check on him at daycare, which helps me focus on work (because if I hear him crying in the background, I can’t focus and just want to run to him and snuggle him). I was expecting him to be more tired at night after a long day at daycare, but so far he’s been energetic when we get home (which is somewhat tiring for this mama!), and he’s been napping okay there, too (which I was worried that he’d nap TOO long out of overwhelm or not enough). His new favorite thing is dancing to the opening and closing credits of the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Yes, I’m a terrible mom who lets my kiddo watch some TV. He LOVES the music. He dances and waves his hands in the air bollywood style and it is so stinking cute that I don’t care if it causes ADHD. He is just so happy, even when he’s been sick he still half-heartedly raises his hand and does this little shimmy when he hears his song.

Which has also led to his first word being hotdog. Because they do the “hotdog dance” and when we said hot dog, he said something like “hawtdg,” which wasn’t quite full-fledged hotdog, but so damn close we’re gonna have to count it as first real word (beside mama and dada). My baby is clearly a genius.

 

Fourth Anniversary

Yesterday Boof and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary. It almost got lost in the hullabaloo around Potamus’ first birthday, but my mother-in-law swooped in at the last minute and offered to babysit while we went out to dinner. But THAT plan almost backfired when we called the pediatrician to ask about the late night crying jags and fear that it might turn into an ear-infection as we travel over Snoqualmie Pass this weekend.

The pediatrician had an opening in his schedule at 4pm, so we bundled up and headed out. But, in true doctor fashion, he was running late…by an hour! This waiting and waiting and waiting is SO annoying in the waiting room, but once he is in the exam room with us, and giving us his full undivided attention and never makes us feel rushed, it is worth it…which is why we keep going back. After a thorough exam, it turns out that my previous suspicions were confirmed: Potamus is constipated. The introduction of a little bit of whole milk, paired with his lack of drinking anything else but scarfing down tortellinis, has caused some backup issues. We were prescribed pear juice to help, and wowee, so far it has been doing its job! (but that’s another story for another time).

Boof and I managed to race him back to grandma’s and squeek in to Anthony’s for their “sunset dinner” special (aka, earlybird with the old folks) with two minutes to spare. You can’t go wrong with a $19.95 appetizer/salad/entree/dessert special, ya know? Especially on our tight budget and paying with a gift certificate. The night was lovely, and gave us a chance to really talk and try to get back on the same page. I told him that my massage/growth coaching session by Courtney Putnam of Rising Bird Healing Arts had focused on my intense emotions and my discovery of the 3 parts of myself that are in conflict: Individual, Mother, and Wife. And how wife is the one that gets pushed aside because it is the one that I can ever go back on. I cannot stop being myself and I cannot stop being a mother. Once Potamus was born, I now, forever will be a mom.

We talked about that struggle and trying to do things as a “we” instead of making an individual decision and getting the other person on board with it. There was tough, honest, brave comments and tough, honest, difficult reflections on observations. I think I was hit hardest with the observation that sometimes Potamus seems confused by my struggle between Individual and Mom, in the moments where I seem a little bit cold and don’t attend to his needs, that Boof notices the confusion in his face and posture. That hit me hard. Not that I will be a perfect mother, but that confusion resonated with me, as there were so many moments growing up that I thought I was the problem, when it was really my adoptive mother having difficulty regulating herself. I want to minimize that as much as I can, which means being more mindful that that is happening.

And we’re going to start looking at things as a couple to do, and have already thrown out the idea of a 5k walk/run together sometime in February. We’ll see how “training” goes, but it’s sort of exciting to think about doing something like that together!

First Week, Fall Quarter

Whew, what a whirlwind the last two weeks have been! I am happy to report that I have successfully completed my first week of teaching at a local community-turned 4 year- college!

In a quick turn of events, I was hired, gave my notice at my crisis-counseling job, and transitioned into this position that allows me the freedom and flexibility to be both a worker and a mother. I spend four days a week at the college, two of the days as an instructor and the other two as an advisor for 16-20 year old students who have dropped out of high school. The mix of kids is delightful. There’s the run of the mill “thug life” kids that bounced from school to school because of expulsions, suspensions, and pop-off attitudes. There are the little-house-on-the-prairie homeschool types, who wouldn’t dream of who have clearly excelled academically to a degree, but the somewhat intellectual arrogance has left them socially awkward and blowing out of regular high school. There are mothers, felons, medically fragile, procrastinators, and class clowns.

Regardless of the reasons behind dropping out, they are welcome here in our program, a 4 quarter structured program (much like a very scaffolded running start) where they are introduced to college and supported as they attempt to get an AA degree, or a transfer degree, or even a certificate in an area of focus. And I get the newbies, the ones who are first stepping into a college classroom and hoping to be changed.

Okay, that’s actually optimistic and lofty. Many of my kids are simply hoping to not fail again. And many of those intellectually arrogant are actually just trying to “jump through the hoop” of my class in order to gain access to their 2nd quarter where they can take an English class, and their 3rd quarter where they can “take the fun classes” (actual quote by a student today, as she pushed her glasses back up her nose).

My curriculum is intangible in so many ways. These students have been taught subjects, but in my class, I hope to give them the experience of learning about themselves in a different way. Because that’s what I learned in college…I learned to think outside of the black/white paradigm and analyze poetry and give my opinion on things without stuttering or wavering in discussion. Of course I will teach things like study skills and learning styles, but I hope they gain a sense of community at the end of it all.

My college self, the one who thought about being an English teacher,  but didn’t have the confidence to really finish that degree, is now standing in front of a college class, with unbridled freedom in planning and executing the teaching objectives. Want to watch an episode of Dirty Jobs to illustrate Career Development? No problem! Want to give “This I Believe” speech/essay assignment? Go for it! Want to design group work or have free-writes or listen to music lyrics? All acceptable.

And the best part, perhaps, is coming home at the end of the night, happily tired with enough emotional energy to drop to the rug and play with Potamus for a few hours until bedtime. While I’m not getting much sleep at night, thanks to full-on reverse cycling and Potamus nursing at least every 2 hours (if not more), I am happy. So happy.  But like a quietly contented happy.

How are YOU a badass?

I was reading this article The Day Female Longboarders Taught me how to be a Badass on Huffington Post, and it hit me in the gut. You see, I have badass women friends that I admire and frankly…am pretty effing jealous of. Melissa Sher starts out saying:

I’ve wanted to be a badass for as long as I can remember. But the closest I ever came was in college, when I got my belly button pierced. Sadly, I had to remove the belly ring after only one day because it got infected. Three pregnancies later, my scar has stretched so that it now looks like a small, upside-down question mark, as if asking me, “What were you thinking?”

I giggled at this, thinking about my impulsive moments in college where I got my tongue AND nose pierced on the same day, and how utterly “cool” I felt with that. I mean, it’s not anyone who would just finish a rafting trip with some new friends, strike up a conversation about tongue rings and realize that you BOTH had wanted a tongue piercing, and then hop in the car and head down to the local tattoo shop to get it done…especially not after I had been there that morning getting my sparkly nose-stud.

This idea of being a badass woman is one that I’ve thought about for awhile. I have goals people…GOALS, though most of the time that goal is to get up off the couch (stop blogging Monk-Monk, get out, enjoy life!) and do something really badass, like changing a poopy diaper. These friends that I’m jealous of include:
1) my bestie from college who married a rock-climber and they’ve adopted 2 australian shepards that they’ve found out on the trails (on 2 separate occasions). They travel around on weekends (and he, for work) bouldering and hiking and camping in the back of their truck. She is a badass. She can climb rocks upside down and the muscles on her arms are toned to a ridiculous point. Best part is, in pictures she looks so incredibly happy.
2) my current bestie who recently double-dutched on her wedding day IN HER WEDDING DRESS, because she loves being a part of her jump-rope group so much. She does Hood-to-Coast and her honeymoon wasn’t to the typical tropical places..no, they road-tripped through Banff, Canada.

3) my good friend from school is a Crossfit maniac, when parachuting last summer and is training to be in a Tough Mudder competition (think 12 miles run full of full-blown team obstacle course!). She’s currently on her way to Croatia with her husband to vacation around, which just seems so badas.. not Paris or London, but Croatia (I mean, who has even HEARD of Croatia 😉 ).

A few examples of women in my life that I admire. Like the women in the article, I long to do thrilling adrenaline rushing things. I sometimes feel like I chose such a safe life…marriage to a man, home-owner, middleish class, one dog, one kid, etc. Sometimes I wish I were brave enough to get on a long-board and go 40 mph down a long winding hill.

Then there’s part of me who laughs at my comparisons to my friends. That part of me that remembers moving to India solo and escaping kidnapping by my taxi driver in the middle of the night, the part of me that remembers being Avatar in the Solstice Parade naked bike-ride, or the part of me that remembers calling up a stranger saying, “I was adopted in 1982 and I have reason to believe that you are my father.”

All of those things make me badass.

Changing poopy diapers makes me badass, too…but in a totally different way…right?

Though this drive to be physically badass…through long-boarding or yoga or running in obstacle courses, keeps calling to me…and yet…I still am not quite to getting my goals into practice.

Tell me…in what ways are YOU badass? And how did you get to where you are?