New Year 5

Back at the library!! I am so resistant to creating goals. I just don't want to do it. I guess that if I don't do it, I won't feel bad when I don't achieve them, but of course that keeps me from achieving anything. A vicious circle of medeocrity.

Here I am at step 2 of my 3 step process to creating goals for next year:

2/ CREATE
This is the fun part. This is where you get to dream about your possibilities, your dreams. Don't get caught up in the "HOW" in this step, just keep dreaming. Use the same 8 areas of your life and think; What do I want in 2010? What do I want to build on? In what areas do I want to grow? Learn? Contribute?

Relationships: More relationships with more poeple.

Recreation: More outdoor activities. Goals about reading classic books and books about writing. Goals in my writing, maybe to write a book, or short stories. (I feel a moment of panic when I say this, because there are absolutely no ideas inside of me to write a book about.)

Career: Prepare to be a librarian. Keep my mind open to other possibilities careerwise.

Personal Growth and Development: Learn Chinese. Have a weekly goal setting time to reevaluate how I'm doing and to set the big rocks into my life before all of the other stuff.

Health and Fitness: Keep exercising with walking and stationary bicycle for cardio and weights for resistance. Learn a new recipe every week to increase my healthy repertoire of food ideas. (Buy Ellie Krieger cookbook.)

Financial: No changes necessary.

Home: Nothing until baby comes and decisions have to be made.

World Contribution: Volunteering. That's about it.

That didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would. Hmmmmm. Maybe I don't have that many goals to make after all.

I had an interesting thought last night. I was reading "The Elegance of the Hedgehog" which is an amazingly well written book. I've enjoyed it like morsels of chocolaty cheesecake melting on my tongue. Something has been stopping me from writing, this thought that it must all come out great or it is not worthwhile doing at all. What if I write and most of it is crappy and there is only one or two salvageable sentences or paragraphs in lots and lots of writing. And then I take those good parts and create something out of them and do lots and lots of editing and fixing and then after all of that, something well written and tasty comes out of it. That is worthwhile. Am I lazy? Hmmmm, something to think about. Not whether or not I am lazy but whether or not I can write well and want to put the lots and lots of effort into it that is probably necessary to come up with something that will be melty on the tongues of others.

Plot

The more I read about becoming a writer, the more I feel that it is an unattainable goal.

I am currently reading a book called "How to tell a Story". I give myself a week to read the book I am on, to have a goal, and that means 40 pages a day of this 200 page book. I walk to the library so that I am in a different location and can make myself just concentrate on reading. When I am at home I can watch TV or read for enjoyment, or exercise, but it is hard to concentrate on non-fiction at home. This is how I got through the last book, "Reading like a Writer", which was also excellent and scary at the same time.

You need a lot of discipline to be a writer and I'm not sure how much of that I have. I also sometimes procrastinate when writing my blog, and put it off, sometimes until the next day, does this mean I don't enjoy writing???? Maybe. Or I might be lazy overall!

I was praying this morning for some sort of inspiration of what to do with this inbetween time, between working and being a mom, when I have time. I like the daily exercising a lot and the pleasant walks, but I feel that there should/could be something more. So I asked the Lord to let me know what that might be.

I wanted to quote something from my current library book into my blog, just so I don't forget it:

Once upon a time, something happened to someone, and he decided that he would pursue a goal. So he devised a plan of action, and even though there were forces trying to stop him, he moved forward because there was a lot at stake. And just as things seemed as bad as they could get, he learned an important lesson, and when offered the prize he sought so strenuously, he had to decide whether or not to take it, and in making that decision he satisfied a need that had been created by something in his past.

This is the plot for 90% of the stories ever told.

I think over the years of my reading tons of books, I never really figured this out (although I was suspicious that something must be going on, I would get to the middle of a romance and then wonder what would draw them apart before they got back together and how would they each grow as a result of that). Maybe I need a writing class or something.

Brainsmush

I decided to challenge myself a little during these days when I am in full control of my time and sometimes don't make the best choices for myself.
I started a book called "Reading like a Writer" and decided to read the book in a week, that would come out to 55 pages a day, not too hard, I thought I read about a page a minute. After 40 pages and what turned out to be an hour I decided that it would have to be maybe a two week read and that my brain was so smushy that I could barely write anything in my blog, which I have to do at the library because our laptop is with Fred at work.
I was also trying to get all of this done before 3 so that I wouldn't inadvertently bump into any of my former students at the ever popular local library that they all frequent right after school. It must have been a half day at school though because there have been little ones and medium ones around since I got here and I did see one student. It went well, she said hi.
The book is really good, the author loved reading as a child and all of the way through schooling, masters and PhD and has written a lot, but I am a little intimidated by it.
How to master the wonderful sentence? I am not over wanting the process of writing to be quick and easy and to roll off of my fingers and out of my brain perfect and needing no work. It doesn't seem like that is how writing is at all. So much thought needs to go into every word and reading needs to be word by word to appreciate the author's thought process. Are my thoughts that deep, can they be? Do I want to spend so much time on each word, is writing tedious? Obviously this blog is not because I just write as fast as I can type and then barely re-read what I've written and just hit "publish post" with barely a glance at the "save now" option. Why would I save without publishing, do I need to think about what I am writing??
So, I don't yet. But I'd love to become great and have readers respond with awe as they read my work.
Having the biopsy tomorrow, chose the core needle biopsy, the more traumatizing of the ones offered but the most conclusive just short of an excisional biopsy. All of the doctors think that it is nothing and even look confused that I want to pursue anything since the MRI and the Mammogram and the UltraSound all have shown no cause for concern. We'll see.

Cat

I am Ibis, I am the cat that belongs to my wonderful daddy Fred (my favorite) and my mommy Laura (who is okay, but not my favorite).
I have a little bed near the window that is fluffy and soft. It is under a stool that holds some plants. I like to curl up there in a ball and sleep. It is comfortable. But my mommy likes to pull the bed out from under the stool and then scoop me up out of a deep sleep and carry me around the house upside down and give me kisses on my tummy and my head and I hate it. I have to clean all of those spots again and arrange all of my fur when she is done.
Other times she starts saying "hi kitty" and making the voice that means she is going to pick me up again, but I am awake and can run and hide under the bed or just roll over on the floor and bite her if she comes too close. I don't bite too hard, she usually doesn't bleed much. If my daddy notices that I am about to bite her he says "Ibis" loudly and sternly and I have to get up and go somewhere else until he isn't looking again, but she usually stops trying to pick me up as well.
Whenever the refrigerator opens, I think about the carton of milk in there and enticingly prance into the kitchen and give a hopeful "meow" to see if the person at the fridge will give me some of the milk in my bowl. I am a beautiful cat (the vet said) and usually get my way. I have large olive green eyes and big ears and I keep my fur as soft as a rabbit. (I'm not sure what a rabbit is, but my mommy said that is how soft it is.)
I also like to sit at the kitchen table when one or both of my parents is sitting there. If they are not paying attention I try to drink out of their glasses or pick some food off of their plates. But usually I just sit there and look out of the window, studiously ignoring them, yet at the same time, always knowing exactly what is going on.
When my parents are watching television, I like to sit on the lap of the person on the recliner chair. I like best when my daddy is sitting there because he doesn't bother me by petting me all of the time or trying to rest his hands on me. My mommy on the other hand will give me kisses and absently pet me as she is watching television and it bothers me to no end. I give her a warning look before coming in for a quick nip bite and sometimes she doesn't notice the look and continues to pet me anyways. She even will pick up my shoulders and look at me and say "I am your mommy and I bought you at the store and I feed you, so I can pet you and smush you all I want." which usually ticks me off more and as soon as she lets up on her hold I jump off of her lap and go back to my comfortable bed.
I like to eat early in the morning. So I try to wake up my mommy to feed me. I meow loudly and tickle her face with my whiskers, or rub my nose on her arm. She may wave her arm at me or try to grab me but I am faster and will run (stomping across her body) off of the bed until she is not moving and I can come meow at her face again. If she wakes up, she will need to use the bathroom and then she will usually come into the kitchen and feed me as well, so my ploy has been working wonderfully. To make sure that she has not forgotten me once she has used the bathroom, I will run to the kitchen and periodically turn my head to see that she is following and meow more and more loudly until I can see the decision has been made. Then I will roll over onto the kitchen floor and get petted for a while until the food comes. I am purring, but not because of the petting, but because of the impending food.
I like to look out of the windows, they are low enough to the floor that all I need to do is push through the blinds with my nose to see out. There are other cats in the world and one lives outside. It is grey and has a bell on its neck. (Strange.) It will come right up to my window and roll around in the dirt and make faces like it is free and so happy to be outside. I don't go outside, it is scary and big and full of strange things. Plus, I'm not allowed. But when I see that other cat, I wish I was outside. I tend to get angry and throw myself at the glass while the other cat is laughing at me.

Praise

I have read a lot on how to praise children. Effective versus ineffective praise. (Go to Haim Ginnot's work to see more. Either Parent and Child or Teacher and Child.)
But I just read something today that is interesting.
I am reading a book called How We Decide by Lehrer and he mentioned some research by Dweck. (Who also wrote a book that I haven't read yet about this research being referred to here.)
Anyway when some students sat down to complete a puzzle, at the end, they were praised, some with a sentence referring to how smart they must be at these types of things because they did well, and the other half with a reference to how much effort they put into the puzzle. Dweck thought there would not be a lot of different in the students response to that difference but there was! Students who were told they had a good ability in puzzles, later picked among two choices the puzzle they were told was easier, like the one they completed before instead of a puzzle that was described to be harder. Those whose effort was praised chose the harder puzzle. Also, given a choise to either look at puzzles already completed by others, that were not as good as the job they did or a better job than they did, the students whose effort was praised chose to look at the puzzles that were better. They wanted to see where their mistakes were so that they improved. Students whose inate ability was praised wanted to see the puzzles of students who did worse than they did so that they could continue to feel smart. It is crazy how powerful one little sentence can be.
This is interesting because people who are experts are people who analyze their mistakes and try to learn from them, think of how they could have done better.
We do our kids a misservice by implying to them that there are some subjects that people are just good or bad at and there is not much that can be done about it. I saw this a lot as a teacher. Kids would say to me, "Well my mom didn't do good in math either, so she said I might not do good either" or parents would tell me in conferences that they expected their kids would have a hard time in math because you are either born good at it or you are not. It is almost as if these parents have given their kids a pass at not putting any effort into math because they might not be any good at it anyway.
I think I might be that way about writing. I don't want to edit, I don't want to put a lot of work into it. I would like to be naturally good at it and have that manifested to me by my great success as a writer. Hopefully I am reading enough to change that notion. I am at least writing every day, which is a good step.
I read an article about Nora Roberts. She started writing when one of her kids was 3 and the other was 6 and they were homebound because of a big storm outside. She has had no formal education in writing, no college degree in English (like me) but just started. She said her first book was terrible (encouraging). Now her theory on writing is essentially Ass in the Chair. She has a daily schedule and writes 6-8 hours a day. She writes 5 books a year!!
So, now as soon as I get inspired by something I am going to sit right down and write in my blog. Hopefully a good start.

Life Coaching

A few months back, after I had been let go from my teaching position, before the school year was over, and while I was trying to determine whether I wanted to continue teaching at all, I had a 1/2 hour session with a life coach.
She was related to my chorus, had done a coaching session for the entire chorus and had sign ups for the time she was going to be in town the rest of the weekend.
I signed up.
My main goal was to see whether or not she thought I really wanted to be a teacher or not. I had struggled with it for a long time.
I have taught for 7 years. One year of kindergarten (lots of whining, crying, and interruptions) in Ohio, two years of 7th and 8th grade math in Florida (not that bad, good supportive co workers but did not like the 2 hour 15 minute block class schedule change the second year), two years of 4th grade in Pittsburgh (felt hopeless to do almost anything the entire two years, the kids were very frustrating, felt my planning was insufficient, but enjoyed reading to them and writing my master's paper on management) and then this most recent two years teaching 6th grade math here in Mountain View (first experience teaching english learners, almost enjoyable the first year, received lots of love from my kids and their parents, then let go the second year, the principal/district decided not to tenure me). After all of this time, I had never responded to the question, "How do you like teaching" the way I have seen others. No "wow, I love it, it is so satisfying" blah, blah, blah. My response was, "well, it's not terrible, there are parts I am fond of, I'm not that good at it" etc... etc...
One of my major insecurities was my lack of lesson planning. It seemed that it was the last thing I wanted to do and I felt that my students may have suffered somewhat as I taught by the seat of my pants. There was so much I was doing right though, mostly in my relationships with the kids. They knew that I loved them and cared for them and would help them patiently and without yelling. But I wasn't sure if I was good enough at my job, or if I liked it enough to continue. I also felt guilty for not doing what I believed was a good enough job as I looked at other teachers and asked them how much time they put into their job after work and on weekends. I always tried to do everything at school and bring nothing home. This would mean a few late evenings when I had given tests or needed to enter grades, but mostly I was done within 1/2 an hour to an hour from the end of the school day. (Teachers do compare themselves to each other frequently. There is also an overall sense that teaching is a martyrdom and the more hours you work the more you must care about your job and the kids.)
So, I wondered, what do I do now, look for other teaching jobs, go back to school, do something entirely different? I talked to the life coach about this dream I have to write children's books (or adult books, whichever.)
She asked me why?
Huh, I'd never thought about why. I loved to read, how it takes me away and puts me somewhere else, how my feelings can change, the way I think about the world or life can change, based on what I am reading. Books have a lot of power.
I want that power. Power to reach into a young person's life and give them something that will remain with them. But, maybe I just want to have something that will have my name on it forever, that someone might pick up in 50 years and enjoy long after I'm gone. (Not that I should be gone in 50 years! I would only be 84 and Fred says we will be living until I'm 88 at least.)
I have a heart for the middle school aged child. Many of my master's classes were on adolescent development. I remember my middle school years quite vividly. I hated them. I was so unsure, so concerned with what everybody around me thought of me and so sensitive. I loved reading Judy Blume, it amazed me that she seemed to have this way into the mind of an adolescent. She knew how I felt, what I was thinking.
I also love adult books too. How the characters can be so complex, how my heart can be moved or comforted as I read. I am very fond of Fannie Flag and how she depicts small town life and her characters.
It seems interesting that I have not really talked about the life coaching part at all. Maybe I should create the title after I write instead of before. So I'll put in some now!
The life coaching time helped me to think about why I wanted to write and to realize that even if there are parts I'm unsure about as a teacher, there are also things I really like about it and I can remain with it and instead of feeling guilty about my evenings when I'm not planning, I can do things to enrich myself, like learning to write.
That was when I thought I could get a job this year. I looked for most of the summer and have found nothing. Not easy to find something when 20,000 teachers are laid off in the state and there are tons of applications for each position.
Not having a job this year, I am devoting time to writing (Notice my wordy blog entries). I even got two books out of the library today to begin to find out how you go about writing a book!

Writer!!

What makes a writer?? I am writing every day, want to go to bed, need to write, want to go to bed, need to write, ack. Because I read that that makes a good writer.
There are definitely a lot of writers out there. They can't all have started when they were young, written forever and then finally became published right? I could do it, even starting so late in life, right?
I remember reading a little about the history of the author of my favorite children's books, Winnie the Pooh. E. E. Milne, how I wish you'd started writing on accident, without any formal training, but just came up with your stories out of the blue. You told your son a story and boom, it became the best children's book ever. Yet, that is not how it was, you wrote tons of plays and articles and even books before this and were surprised that this is what you became known for. Alas.
I would like to be published, to give book talks at book stores, to be known among teachers. Hey have you read this to your kids yet? It is great!!! That's what I'd love.
I have been thinking, what would I love to do? What can I wake up in the morning looking forward to doing? It was not teaching. That usually just made me frustrated and tired at the end of the day. Although I did love the kids so much and really miss interracting with them. It is actually nothing I have ever done before. Never have I woken up in the morning looking forward to what the days' work would hold for me.
I have felt very peaceful though, not working right now. I have felt relieved and relaxed the last week or so. Also that I have been taking care of myself well, with my eating and exercising.
So, my current goal, until I learn other ways to become a great writer, is to write every day even when I want to go to sleep. whew.

a writer when i grow up

I would like to be a writer when I grow up. I don't know when that will be. Maybe soon. I have always thought that it would be when I was home with my little kids and had nothing to do. What a perfect time to write. Easy to be interrupted, but small spaces of time inviting you to continue where you'd left off.
I have no kids yet, and therefore have not started writing yet. But am getting on in age. I am 34. A breast cancer survivor for almost the critical 5 years now. Just completed the regimen of Tamoxifen and all ready to make a baby, and then another one quickly. We can get started in October.
I s'pose I can start writing now though, as I have nothing to do.
No longer teaching. Anticipating potentially a challenging pregnancy. My mother had very difficult pregnancies, unable to keep any food down and practically bedridden. I was nervous to commit to a teaching job with that possibility.
What a challenge to go from working full time, being needed every day, kids noticing my new nail polish, lesson planning, saying "how can I be most productive in this 17 minutes remaining of my prep period?", rushing to get a few more copies made, laughing at kids jokes, giving lots of hugs in the hall, proclaiming that "yes you are definitely my favorite student" whenever asked, trying to do the best job and not burn out at the same time, to not working.
To being scared that it might take more than a month or two to get pregnant, what on earth will I do if it takes more than 6 months or a year or more? To trying to fill up my time, make a cleaning of the one bedroom apartment schedule, try not to watch too much television, become healthier, lose a little weight, not feel guilty when I can't think of something to do and am left taking an unproductive nap. Become productive, continue to make a little money, make some fliers to become a tutor in the neighborhood. Sigh.
Yet, shouldn't this be so enjoyable? No frustrating kid behavior to deal with, no guilt that whatever I am doing is not enough to help my kids really learn math well, no trying to no avail to please a principal who will not be pleased, no parents asking why this grade on this quiz, why not this or that, no requirement to make doctor appointments after 3:30, no guilt when leaving from school early because I am not doing as much as society dictates teachers should be doing, and especially no pit of my stomach feelings on Sunday night that the only thing to anticipate is potential frustration the next day.
I did like that restful feeling last night that there would be no school the next day.
It is not that enjoyable though, not working.
It should be.
Hence the blog. It is something to do. It responds to the advice I've read that if you want to be a writer you should write every day.
One of my middle school students was reading The Clique series. I read the first 8 books and at the end of one there was advice from the author. She said, you should write every day.
So, I went back to a journal that I hadn't written in for the last 10 years or so, why buy a new one when pages were still blank in that one, and began to make myself write every day. A typical entry consists of "A great day, went out to see an old movie at the Stanford Theater, went out for Fraiche Yogurt afterwards. I love Fred. He is the best husband ever."
Will entries that short turn me into a great writer?
I was reading Outliers by Gladwell. Apparently to become really good at something, nobel prize winning good, concert pianist good, you need to work at it for 10,000 hours. A little scary to me. The only things I have done for 10,000 hours are watch television and read books. I always hated writing when I was in school because it took thinking. I wanted everything to come out perfect and if it didn't I had no patience with it.
I was reading Bone Black by Bell Hooks, and it was a short book, so beautifully written. I've never read much poetry but each line in her text was poetic. There was so much meaning in so small a space. How can one line of text, so short, move you that much? Did she do that quickly? Did it flow out of her, or did it take tons of rewriting and editing? Years and years for one book? But even if it did, isn't it worth it. The books that have affected me, made me who I am, maybe took the authors a lifetime to write, but they will also stay with me for a lifetime. Can't I commit a lifetime to affecting others for a lifetime? I would like to.
Hence, a writer when I grow up.