Rest in Peace, my little Chunky Monkey

The past week has been full of emotion.  It was one week ago last night that Nicky, our little Chunky Monkey, started deteriorating.  Those of you following the saga know that in January our little cat was diagnosed with kidney failure at the age of two and a half.  I now am fairly sure that it was actually cancer that led to the kidney failure, but that doesn't matter right now.  The best care in the world can't reverse kidney failure once it's been diagnosed in cats because it's not found until kidneys are at least 70% gone.

We were lucky, in some regard, because when I took Nicky in in January he was so sick that the vet thought he wouldn't last more than a day or two. He didn't respond to any treatment.  Then we tried acupuncture.  It was a miracle.  He perked up!  He started eating and drinking and peeing and gaining weight -- all good signs.  I was baffled and didn't know what to expect, but thrilled nonetheless.

The alternative treatments -- he had three or four acupuncture treatments altogether -- helped give us all enough time to get used to the idea that we would have to say goodbye.

As February drew to a close, Nicky's health was getting worse again. He'd respond to treatment, but after a few days look like he was getting worse.  He lost control of his bladder, so we ended up with kitty diapers and puppy pads.

I stopped sleeping much at night, and when I did sleep it was very lightly -- I wanted to be able to hear Nicky if he called (which he did every time he was hungry or needed a diaper change -- much like a human infant).  We didn't want to put him down just because of bladder issues because every time I had the acupuncturist check for signs of pain he didn't exhibit any.  He was fine just being mommy's baby for a while.

Last Monday, his gums started bleeding.  This is a sign of the last stages of cancer and kidney failure.  I rushed him in to the vet's, but there was nothing to be done other than to give him some pain medication for his gums just in case he needed it.  They offered to put him to sleep, but I said no -- he wasn't in pain.  My plan was always for him to be able to go on his own.  For weeks I had told him that it was okay for him to go whenever he needed to and that we would miss him and be sad but we don't want him in pain.  Monday changed my message; I started telling him he couldn't stay.  His body was too broken.  Yet he still clung to life.

Nicky's last day

On Tuesday he was worse, but still not showing signs of being in pain.  I called the vet and made an appointment for Thursday afternoon and then I started telling Nicky that he needed to go on his own, but if he couldn't manage, I would get the vet to help.

Wednesday evening brought one last hurrah.  A friend who practices pet reiki came over to help with Nicky.  She confirmed that he was not in pain -- just stubbornly clinging to life.  It seems his mind knew he was still a little boy and so well loved, so he didn't want to leave.  His willpower was keeping him alive by this point -- he was stinky, unable to eat, entirely dependent on me, and hadn't moved much that day, confirming to my heart that the decision to make an appointment for Thursday was the right one.  He needed to leave -- he just didn't want to.  Every time this friend worked on him and I told him, "Nicky, I love you, but you need to leave. It's okay, it will be easy, but you need to go" he pulled himself up and moved.  Every. Single. Time.  Finally we tried a new tactic -- R. showed Nicky that his body couldn't heal as I told him the same thing: the body was done.  He peed.  (I took that as a sign of his displeasure.)  And right after that, he lay down and indicated he was done, almost like he was giving up.  Message received, Mom, he said.

That night, we stayed awake together on the couch for the entire night.  I gave him some of the pain medication from the doctor because he had finally started showing he was in pain.  And every time I started falling asleep, he meowed, waking me up.  He knew.

And so I stayed up and sang to him.  We had several songs that were ours.  That last evening, this song from the movie Beaches was the one I sang most often.

On Thursday morning, I was exhausted.  Nicky was not doing well and I gave him more pain medication.  We then stayed curled up together as I spoke to him, told him how much I loved him, told him about the better place he was going to, told him cats have nine lives and he can come back later in a better body.  I told him I would miss him.

At 11:30, he was crying.  I could tell he was in pain again and this was the end because he stood up and tried to get out of his bed.  I placed him on the floor, knowing he wanted to go to his favorite spot -- the bathroom.  He used to love watching the shower water and every morning before he was sick I would hear him talking in there, waiting for me to come in and pick him up. (And if I didn't heed the call, watch out! He'd unravel the toilet paper.)  On this morning, he pulled himself to his favorite spot.  The death convulsions started, something I recognized from my experience with Hero.  If you've ever seen them, you know that they are heartbreaking.  Death often does not come peacefully, like in the movies, much as we wish for that outcome.  And, like anyone watching a loved one in pain, it broke my heart.  I gave him more pain medication, knowing full well what it would do at this point.  It would take less than a minute to slow his breathing and make him relax and then his spirit would leave his body.  He wouldn't be in pain any more.

Our Nicky, our little Chunky Monkey, died at 11:36AM on Thursday, March 1.

It has been several days and now I can get through the day, I can think about him, and only choke a bit.  I am not drowning in tears and sobs and sorrow, but my heart is still heavy.  It's really hard to deal with so many conflicting emotions. On the one hand, of course I am relieved that he is gone, he is no longer in pain.  But the other hand misses him so much and even with four other furry babies the house feels so empty.

This is the tribute video that I made for my little boy.  Out of all the songs I sang to him, this was our favorite.  I don't listen to country music much now, but when I looked at this boy I knew immediately what my heart wanted to tell him.  This song was the best way to express it.

Still hanging on

It's been a while since I've written about Nicky, so I wanted to give an update on his condition.  He's still hanging on!  It's been a couple weeks and he's still with us, even though the vet thought he wouldn't last more than a day or two.

I think that this success can be attributed to several things -- his own willpower and desire to stay, the love and attention and care he receives, and to acupuncture.  The vet was impressed when we went in for a check-up last Friday -- Nicky was a full pound heavier than he was two weeks ago -- and said that she will be recommending acupuncture to pet owners who, like me, were desperate and have pets who don't seem to respond to traditional treatments.

A number of people have told me that they have "learned so much about love" (or something along those lines) through watching me with Nicky.  This is a bit confusing for me, and I think it's more than my typical embarrassment from receiving a compliment.  I honestly don't know what I could possibly teach or demonstrate in this area that is any different than anyone else.  After all, I believe that we all struggle when we see our babies -- human or furry -- in pain, we all put forth extra effort and love and care to try to heal them, and when we realize that we have to face a fatal diagnosis we struggle with the question of quality of life and longevity.

I am thrilled that Nicky is still here. Even though every day has an element of the Waiting Game within it, I think that now, through the extension of life that we've received (however temporary it may be), we are all at peace with the inevitable.

2012 Goals Check-In

At the beginning of the year, I set goals for the things I wanted to accomplish.  Some goals were big (finishing three tomes and blogging about them, writing for publication), some were small (craft more, blog more), but all were important.  And now that we've reached the end of January, I thought that it would be good to check on my progress.  After all, we're 1/12th of the way through the year!  Doesn't it sound scary when you put it that way?

• Goal #4: Write notes and letters more often.  I've made it through each week of this month having written at least one note or letter to someone somewhere in my life!
• Goal #7: Craft more. I'm sitting nearly every evening with some sort of project on my lap -- usually just something simple, like a necklace made of ribbons and fake pearls, but it's still crafty.  And I have a few projects this week that I'd like to do (but they'll probably have to wait for Saturday).
• Goal #8: Blog more.  Well that's sure happening!  I fell off the blogging bandwagon in a big way last year and I'm slowly making my way back.  It's still not one post a day, as I would like, but it's getting there.
• Goal #9: Exercise more. The treadmill desk that Honey made is making this an easier goal.  I was doing some ab and arm exercises, too, and I've been a bit lazy these past ten days or so, so I need to get back into that habit, but all in all...hopefully I'm on the way to a summer dress body.
• Goal #10: Spend less.  Is this a "remains to be seen"?  If we talk about spending on all but pet medical necessities, then I have succeeded for this month.  Of course pet medical necessities can blow a budget out of the water and I should make up for that by cutting back (cutting back what?!), and I haven't, so...
• Goal #13:Take a class.  I am and I love it!  More on that later...maybe.
• Goal #18:Figure out what I want to do for a career. I've got it!  And I'll share it with the world, but probably not until sometime in February...I've got to set a few things up first.

I've had a few derailments this month, not the least of which was Nicky's sudden illness.  He is still stable, which is a miracle, and we're playing a waiting game knowing that his body will probably not be able to stay much longer.  We're all thankful for the time we have, it's just that sometimes the time with furry babies is cut short.

I've also learned a few things about myself -- like I don't like doing 30-Day Challenges.  I'm going to blame it on my adult ADD because I just can't seem to stay focused enough to do something like that every single day, even if it's supposed to be fun (like photos).  The challenge makes it seem like work.  So I'm done with that.  (Please remind me I said this when I get the bright idea to do another challenge, which I probably will at some point this year.)

I'm ready for February.  Ready to get back on track.  Ready to learn more about myself and reach my goals. 2012, here it goes!

Slow and Steady

Nicky is still with us.  For now.  This week has been very long and I am nothing short of exhausted, but I am thankful to have the time with my Chunky Monkey, even though we don't know how much time that may be. (For background to this story, read this post.)

Nicky at home after the vet, 1/25/12

Yesterday morning, the vet called and said we were living on borrowed time. I could drive out there, pick him up and bring him home, but I should not expect more than a day or two or three at most. And of course there's that pesky question about whether or not we should help him on his way. It is, I believe, one of the hardest decisions one can make. Sometimes the pet is in obvious pain and misery; then, of course, the humane thing to do is to help.  But what if the pet is like Nicky -- or Hero before him -- and seems peaceful and pain-free, just quietly resigned to their fate? That is far more difficult.

I picked up The Teenager, who thankfully did not have school yesterday, and took him with me on the two-hour round trip to the vet. You see, he's grouchy and antagonistic and claims to "hate all humans" but has the largest heart for cats. All cats.  And Nicky is his favorite.  The car ride was more peaceful because The Teenager was with us.  He held Nicky, giving him love and affection the whole ride home, making a cat who normally comes unglued in the car fairly peaceful.  It was a blessing.

Nicky at home after the vet, 1/25/12

The Teenager had to return to a study group, so I stayed at home with Nicky for a few hours before our next long car-ride -- a 2.5 hour round trip to see a friend of mine who is an acupuncturist.  I knew that if there was a way to get Nicky's organs to open up, this friend would find it. She would also know if he was in pain or if he was calm and ready to leave.  She is amazing, a true emotional life-saver, and a blessing to the planet. I am not exaggerating!) During the session we discovered that he was calm, accepting of whatever was happening, and that his urethrea was blocked, causing his bladder and kidneys to shut down.  She showed me how to perform kitty massage in an attempt to encourage things to start working, knowing that it could be a long shot.  Nicky loved it.  Every time I give him a kitty massage (and it's been frequently in these past 24 hours!) he purrs and rolls on his back.

More than the help this friend gave Nicky was the help that she gave me.  She and another woman, the other member of our writing group, gave me comfort and love and an outlet for my sorrows so that by the time Nicky and I were back in the car I could sing to him without my voice cracking.  These women are angels here on earth.

Nicky sleeping, 1/25/12

Nicky's breathing was shallow as the evening progressed and I expected him to pass during the night, which is why I was awake for most of the night watching over him. Honey was worried that Nicky was in pain and thought I should make the call to the vet to bring an end to things.  As if in response, Nicky stood up, walked across the bed, curled at Honey's feet and started purring. To me that was an "I'm okay for now" sign.

In the morning, when I expected the worst, Nicky woke up, cleaned himself, purred a bit, jumped off the bed and headed downstairs to eat (only a bite or two) and potty (just a bit). It was a miracle!  I started dancing, but Honey reminded me not to get my hopes up too high.

Sure enough, like a television drama where a fever patient has a seeming break in symptoms before everything hits again, I observed a relapse.  Nicky is sleeping, for now, on the bed.  He enjoys kitty massage and being the center of Mommy's world right now.  He is peaceful and seems to be pain-free.  And for now, that is enough.

A List of Lists

I love lists.  My entire life revolves around them: shopping lists, to-do lists, wish lists, reading lists.  I love being able to write something down, see it, and eventually know that it will be crossed off the page.  It's a motivator, of sorts. I have to do such-and-such, it's on my list!  That is why this year I decided to list my goals for 2012.  There are many benefits to this -- I could list them!

1. By listing my goals, I am forced to think about my goals.
2. A list keeps the goals visible.
3. Visible goals are more easily achieved because one is more mindful of them.
4. Now that it's a list, I'll want to check things off of it, so I am more motivated.

Now in my mind goals are different than resolutions, which is important because I am, perhaps, more likely to keep the goals.  So, what do I want to do with 2012?

2012 Goals

1.         Finish The Artist’s Way and blog about it.

2.        Read Science of the Mind and find someone with whom I can talk about it.

3.        Read The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and consider participation in a book club.

4.       Write notes and letters more often. Aim for one note or letter per week.

5.       Decide how much time and effort to put into relationships and what kind of relationships I want.

6.       Find a doggy day care where Lotus feels comfortable so that I don’t have to rely on unreliable family when I want or need to go out of town or work long days.

7.       Craft more (at least once per week).

8.       Blog more (aim for every day).

9.       Exercise more (get toned for summer weddings!)

10.     Spend less (save more!).

11.       Produce income.

12.      Improve my gardening and canning process so that we produce more of the food that we eat.

13.      Take classes that increase my self-awareness (at least two over the course of 2012).

14.     Learn a new skill.

15.     Finish my novel.

16.     Finish an academic article.

17.     Try to have writings published.

18.     Figure out what I want to do for a career.

19.     Be a better spouse (remember to do everything with love and respect).

20.    Journal daily.

This is not an exhaustive list.  I am sure that if I sat and thought long and hard I'd have more items on there, perhaps things that had to do with more volunteer work or with more demonstrations of love and care for others or something about having less involvement with the family members who make me crazy, but this list was already getting too long (20 goals in 2012? Why not just 12?), so it is what it is.

It's been three full days in the new year and I am making progress toward certain goals (blog more -- check, exercise more -- check, write notes and letters -- check).  One of the goals is to learn a new skill, and this month that skill is photography.  At least I'm trying to become a more skilled amateur photographer -- we'll see what results at the end of the month.  As part of the journey, I am walking through lessons on 31 Days to a Better Photo and participating in a 30 Day Photography Challenge.  Perhaps you would like to participate in the photography challenge with me?

Here's the 30 Day list from Mary at whitepeachblog.com.  This is from her first photo challenge back in May of last year...yes, I know, I'm a bit late to the game.

1. Self-portrait
2. What you wore
3. Clouds
4. Something green
5. From a high angle
6. From a low angle
7. Fruit
8. A bad habit
9. Someone you love
10. Childhood memory
11. Something blue
12. Sunset
13. You with 13 things
14. Eyes
15. Silhouette
16. Long exposure
17. Technology
18. Shoes
19. Something orange
20. Bokeh (What the heck? Is that a misspelling? I had to look it up and found a kind of answer here and here.)
21. Faceless self-portrait
22. Hands
23. Sunflare
24. Animal
25. Something pink
26. Close-up
27. From a distance
28. Flowers
29. Black & White
30. Self-portrait

Of course now that I look through the blog I see that Mary is starting a January photo challenge.  Shall I double-up?  Save the January challenge until next month?  Hmmm....I'll have to think about that.  But just in case you want to jump into the January photo challenge, here is that list from Mary's blog.

1. You
2. Breakfast
3. Something you adore
4. Letterbox
5. Something you wore
6. Makes you smile
7. Favorite
8. Your sky
9. Daily routine
10. Childhood
11. Where you sleep
12. Close-up
13. In your bag
14. Something you're reading
15. Happiness
16. Morning
17. Water
18. Something you bought
19. Sweet
20. Someone you love
21. Reflection
22. Your shoes
23. Something old
24. Guilty pleasure
25. Something you made
26. Color
27. Lunch
28. Light
29. Inside your fridge
30. Nature
31. You, again

And there you have it, folks.  A list of lists.

Welcome to 2012

The first day of a new year is time for reflections and resolutions, and while I have never been a big believer in the latter, I do participate in quite a lot of the former.  In my mind, my post about 2011 was long and profound...which is why I should, perhaps, leave it for another day.  Today I am not feeling long and profound, just sleepy and happy, and that should suffice for now.

Honey and I greeted this first day of 2012 with a smile because the day greeted us with sunshine. This is rather unusual for the Pacific Northwest at this time of year and very odd when compared to our recent weather.  Even more strange was that it felt cool, like the end of September, not cold like the beginning of January.  We decided to go for a walk, a long walk to help Lotus stretch her legs and to explore a bit of an historic trail now that we have a nice camera.

Trolley Trail

It was a perfect day for a walk and as we walked we discussed plans for the day, which of course, because today is January 1, involved a bit of talking about plans for the new year.  I shared how I haven't been able to find my word for the year yet.  Last year was all about living with intention, something that still needs a bit of work on my part (I was very mindful about how I was not always intentional -- funny how that works, isn't it?).  But I can't just pick the same word for 2012, can I?  So if intention is not my word, what is?  I don't know, but this month I'm on a quest to discover it.

Part of the quest will involve me being more intentional about what I am doing.  This month I want to blog every day (a habit I dropped last year), participate in the 30 Day Photography Challenge and 31 Days to a Better Photograph, since we now have a nice camera and I want to know how to use it.

We're blurry! And I need longer arms!

I love decluttering and organizing, so when I saw that a lovely lady put together a 2012 Declutter Calendar with a simple task for every day of the year, of course I decided to jump on that bandwagon.  Cleaner, more organized, happier me, here I come!

More plans for the year?

• Finish The Artist's Way and blog about it.
• Read Science of the Mind and find someone with whom I can talk to about it.
• Read The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and consider participation in a book club.
• Write notes and letters more often.
• Decide how much time and effort to put into relationships and what kind of relationships I want.
• Find a doggy day care where Lotus feels comfortable so that I don't have to rely on unreliable family when I want or need to go out of town.
• Craft more.
• Blog more.
• Spend less.
• Produce income.
• Improve my gardening and canning process.
• Take classes that increase my self awareness.
• Learn a new skill.
• Figure out what I want to do for a career.
• Journal daily.

Most importantly, perhaps, find a goal for the year.  I need to think about who I am and where I want to be and how I am going to get there.  It looks like January will be a busy month.

Silver linings

The Teenager moved out last Tuesday, November 15. I've hashed and rehashed it all in my mind and know that I cannot do anything about the situation or the choices made by others.  What I can do is learn from experience and look for silver linings.

I had to talk with Honey about silver linings last week.  I learned that it can appear, when I focus on the positive in situations, that I am not thinking through all the ramifications, that I don't truly comprehend the downside.  That's not actually the case, I just don't choose to dwell in negativity.  Learn from things and move on and find the silver lining -- because there is always a silver lining.  That's a motto in my life.

So what did I learn from the situation?
1) Be clear and have consistent boundaries.
2) Expect realities, like family members who won't or cannot be mature adults, teenagers who make poor decisions, and people who don't appreciate you.
3) We can love people without liking them and without wanting or needing to be around them.
4) When it comes to family, at least my family, less is more.
5) Love yourself and make decisions that are good, healthy, and right for you.
6) Prioritize your spouse.
7) You don't have to fix everything.
8) Sometimes the lesson is supposed to be hard so that it will be memorable.
9) All the love and consistency in the world won't help a person (or family) to change if that's not what they want to do.
10) You are not responsible for your family or their decisions.

What is the silver lining?
1) I feel good about giving someone a chance -- and know that it's that person's decision what to do with the opportunity given.
2) I've demonstrated love and consistency and it may be the only "tough love" The Teenager experiences.
3) Honey and I are going to take a few steps back from all family -- Honey will like the holidays better as a result and I will enjoy some piece of mind.
4) My guilt that drives me to help the family is gone.
5) Honey and the pets were very supportive -- Honey by coming home and working from home the next afternoon (having realized from an e-mail that I was probably a bit down in the dumps), the cats by forming a kitty-blanket on my lap.
6) The Teenager's bedroom is now my long-desired craft/sewing/gift-wrapping/office room.

It is, perhaps, number six that I am most excited about, since it is the most tangible change.  I spent the entire weekend working on this transformation.  When The Teenager moved out, he and Crazymaker just gathered most of his clothes.  The rest of his room was left as-is, with them saying they'd be back on the weekend to gather the rest of his things.

That did not happen.

And since he never cleaned his room (and I am a strong believer in giving teenagers a space to call their own and have it be their responsibility -- even if messes drive me nuts), this is what it looked like:

It actually looked worse in person.  Trash and belongings everywhere. And perhaps it was telling, too, that when I repeatedly offered to get him a real bed frame or move the chair and rocker out of the room that he turned down those offers.  Looking back, it seems like he really didn't want to be here, regardless of what he said...or perhaps his ten years of living in a state of upheaval took its toll and this is just a symptom of much larger issues.

I took several hours on Saturday to box and bag everything and move it to the garage.  While I wanted him to clean up his own mess, the desire for a clean room, a workable space, was stronger.

The first thing that I did was make the old desk, my grandmother's desk, into something I'd enjoy.  I'd been saving newspapers from Obama's inauguration for a collage and so the desk now became that collage.

It may be silly, or, as Honey says "Well, that's very patriotic of you," but I like it.  When I look at it I am reminded of all the hopes and dreams we had on that day, tempered by the realization that we elected a man and not a superhero, so not all of our dreams would come true.  But that day was one of the happiest in my life as I sat and watched generations of dreams become reality.  It's good inspiration for a working space.

Saturday and Sunday I worked on gathering all of my various crafting and sewing supplies scattered around the house.  Without a place to call my own, a place to work, supplies just landed wherever.  Not a good feeling for someone who likes organization and cleanliness.  I knew that things would have to get worse before they could get better:

I now have desk drawers sorted and organized with supplies, a closet that houses my gift wrapping supplies, yards of fabric, and all the miscellaneous things I collect for craft projects that may or may not materialize.

My grandmother always had a craft room.  Always.  It was a magical space and she loved spending most of her time there.  As a child, it was one of the best places to be.  I have my own space now -- not cutesy, like those of my dreams that I see in Blogland, but functional -- and it already feels like a retreat.

The phone works both ways...or does it?

Last week I came to the conclusion that I would need to allow my relationship with The Cougar to end.  And although the twelve-months-ago me would have argued vehemently against this relationship ever ending, the last week me knew it was the right thing to do -- just not how to do it.  How does one pull out the cords from lives that have been completely intertwined for years?  (Sometimes, I wish that life came with a life's-messy-problems-seam-ripper.)  After a bit of thought, a bit of talking with an amazing woman I really respect, and a bit of input from Honey (who tends to remain very grounded, especially during my flighty moments), I decided that the best way to let this particular tapestry by The Fates dissolve would be to just not initiate anything on my side of the friendship.

Today I realized that I haven't heard from The Cougar in over a week.

I'm not sure what that means on her end, but I think that it means that my policy of not initiating -- not making sure she has someone to talk to after work, inviting her over for meals, making sure things are taken care of and she has the support to get through life -- is working on my end. The tapestry is dissolving before my eyes.

I have decided to let a quote attributed to Dr. Seuss be my motto in terms of this relationship: Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.


For me, it truly seems over, although I imagine there will be a state of flux for several months at least. (Of course I imagined that last week and look at how that turned out, so maybe I'm through the flux already.)  This is one relationship where I will still be able to look at old pictures and smile and laugh because the memories are good.  It's just that sometimes memories are not enough to keep something moving in the right direction. And sometimes, when on life's journey with a friend, it's okay to look at a fork in the road and decide to go in separate directions.

I read a quote on Pinterest recently and the quote really resonated with me (I wish I knew who wrote or said it): At some point, you have to realize that some people can stay in your heart but not in your life.


So bear with me for a while as I get nostalgic. Learning to let go is a lesson I have not yet mastered, but it seems that every year I get a chance to work on it a bit more.

Growing up, growing out

What does it mean to have a best friend for life?  That's a question I've pondered a lot recently.  I still don't have an answer, perhaps because the answer is different for each individual.  As an introvert, I've always thought that it meant I may know a lot of people but I am only close with a few and those few I keep forever.

Sometimes a relationship is simpatico and it doesn't matter if you see the person once a month, once a year, once every five years, and it doesn't even seem to matter if you talk in the interim.  You meet together and instantly it's comfortable and like you've never been apart.  Those are my favorite relationships because they are easy -- the bond is so strong that there's no (apparent) work involved.

Sometimes there is a bond that seems simpatico -- and may in fact be that for years -- and then something happens, life happens, and bonds dissolve.

For me, it's easier to let those bonds slip away when I am separated geographically from someone.  Honestly, I'm such a home body and like taking care of what's in front of me that the extra effort to keep in touch with someone hundreds or thousands of miles away is just too draining.  My energy is needed at home.  This does not necessarily mean that I stop thinking about that person, but chances are we'll drift apart and generally speaking that ends up being okay.

(As a side note, social media like Facebook has really changed this, or at least facilitated an easing of the guilt: "Sure, I know what's going on in so-and-so's life -- I 'like' her posts on Facebook all the time!")


I am not sure how to change a relationship when I am not separated geographically from the other person.  What happens if you realize that life was wonderful with a friend but that it's now time to go your separate ways and yet your lives at this point are so intertwined that you can't even imagine how to do that?

Sometimes close friendships are like marriages (or maybe I should say, more often than not).  It takes time and effort on the part of both parties to maintain the friendship, but more than that it takes commonalities -- similar goals, purposes, ways of approaching life.  In a marriage, especially one that starts very young, there is a real possibility that people will grow up differently and no longer be really compatible.  Honey and I agreed, back before we were married, that if that happened we would do our best to split amicably.  Now, ten years into a marriage, we have talked about how lucky we are that even though we have both changed dramatically in the past decade, we happen to change together.  That cannot be said for the close friendships I've had over that same time period.

Yesterday, I went to speak with a woman I really respect, to share with her what was on my mind.  It was so nice to hear her message: It's okay to grieve for a friendship and It's okay to acknowledge you've grown into different paths and let a friendship go.  When I returned home and prepared dinner, this song played in my head:



I am not saying this has to happen all the time.  But there are times when a friend has chosen behavior that is personally destructive and sticking with that person would bring the destruction into your life.  That's when it's okay to say goodbye.

But I still don't know how to do that.  And so I've got to sit and ponder a while longer.

Moving into the future

Life often takes unexpected turns. At least my life does.  I have learned to be flexible, prepared to know that what I planned for my day, week, year, career, family may not turn out the way that I want.  This is difficult for me.  I like being prepared.  I like having a plan and sticking to it.  I like organization and expectations and rules and I don't like the unpredictable.  It seems that Life and I have a difference of opinion there.

I was thinking about that today as I helped Tin Man load some of his stuff from the garage into the back of the truck.  Tin Man signed the papers on an apartment today.  It's a nice place, relatively inexpensive for the city because it's in a neighborhood that ten years ago was very scary but has now gentrified...slightly.  (If by gentrified one means "apartment dwellers do not need to worry about being randomly shot, so as long as you stay clear of gang and drug involvement you're fine.")  It's a very short commute by bike to school and it just happens to be within biking distance of a very cute girl, so Tin Man loves it.  And I think that he's a bit relieved to be moving.  He started staying in our basement in July with the plan being that he'd be on the couch for two weeks, maybe three, and then he'd have his own place.  Obviously things did not work out that way and honestly I enjoyed having him around.  The house will seem too quiet with him gone.

We still, of course, have The Teenager.  He just started fall term classes yesterday and I am hoping for a more successful, productive, working relationship through the term so that he can finish with high marks.  I want him to be a success, but whether or not that happens will be up to him and sometimes it seems like I am fighting a losing battle.  We brought him in to our house in the spring because he said he believed he would start going to school again (instead of being a drop out) and would get his life back on track if he lived here.  Then we had several months of me in the parental role, tearing my hair out because I was dealing with an obnoxious teen. Two weeks ago, Honey suggested that we have a formal, serious, sit-down conversation to talk about expectations before the school year started.  Through that, we've agreed -- the three of us -- to be more purposeful about this relationship.  It's hard because the patterns that I would want to establish if I had a child all his life are nonexistent here.  Something as simple as a family meal where everyone shares about their day (or week) and sits politely until the last person is finished eating is still rather foreign to him.  I don't know what the term holds with regard to The Teenager and I know I need to be patient and flexible.  Honey is a saint in the midst of all of this, never wanting children in the house but willing to support me in the effort to save this one.  I wish I could say the same about my family. One would think that they'd be happy to see The Teenager back in school and in a structured home, but that seems to be asking too much.  And so for now it seems like me and Honey against the world, cajoling a cranky teen on the path toward a brighter future.

The Teenager did help me with a little pet issue.  The Cougar has a small dog.  I do not like small dogs.  I especially do not like spoiled small dogs.  But I try to have compassion for this one.  I tolerate him because he's been a part of our lives almost as long as Lotus, my lovely baby.  He knows boundaries at my house (probably because Honey and I are the only people who ever give him boundaries) and he tolerates life when he is with me.  This dog had an accident the other night -- somehow managing to pull his back legs out of the sockets.  Being a compassionate person (or a sucker, depending on one's point of view), I gave up most of my plans yesterday and today to care for this dog while The Cougar was at work.  After two days of this I think I'll need to find the courage and strength to say "thanks but no thanks" to another day -- I am through trying to force feed a biting dog his medicine and food.  Taking care of him has derailed most of my plans for the past two days, things like planning for workshops that I'm leading next month.  I cannot, however, blame The Cougar for my plans being derailed.  I was the one who said that I would help.  I have a hard time saying no.

That inability or unwillingness to say no on a regular basis is what gets me into trouble.  Or I should say it's what keeps me running a million miles an hour even without a job.  You need someone to watch a kid or pet? I'll do it.  You need someone to help with curriculum, planning, workshops?  Great, count me in.  You need a grant writer?  No problem!  And little by little my time is eaten away by all the things I've said I'd do to help others.  Last week and this week have me thinking a lot about boundaries, priorities, and being intentional.  It's time to refocus...again.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons I don't have a job right now.  Other aspects of life require too much attention.  I keep searching and searching and searching and every time I get an interview or multiple interviews I start thinking "This is it!" Needless to say, I've been wrong.  And so I am back to the drawing board.  Today I was in a meeting (helping people I worked with last year get a few things figured out for this school year -- Honey says I'm a sucker but I like helping people), and a woman asked me what I would really love to do in an ideal world.  That's a good question, one I struggle to answer.  But if I were really honest I think my job would be some sort of educational consultant, someone who helps students and teachers.  But I would just do that for part of my time.  The other part would be caring for my family, gardening, preserving food, cooking...and writing.  Walking the dog.  Enjoying life.  Why not have my cake and eat it too?

I had an idea for an educational service company the first time I was unemployed, before I worked at a university and finished my doctorate.  I still love the idea, a blend of the best of home and private and public education.  Something I would do for my own children if I had any.  Perfect Fit Education is a dream and right now it seems like a pipe dream but maybe it's time to brush off the dream, polish it a little, and see if I can make it a reality. After all, if I want to move into the future there's no time like the present.

Money Can't Buy Happiness

So I'm back.  Back to blogging.  Back to housework.  Back to job interviews.  Back to being unemployed.  Back to trying to figure out what in the heck I want to do with my life.

I think I see a problem.  I've held a lot of jobs in my life: babysitter, office manager, test processor, curriculum writer, tutor, teacher, administrator and a bazillion other things.  However, I've never held a job for three or more years.  Never. Ever.  Not on purpose.  There were several jobs that I loved and would've gladly stayed in for years.  But most of the time in my life I end up being the person whose contract ends, the one who gets letters that says she's the most incredible worker and the best at her job and it's a shame she was RIF-ed.  And so this time around I wanted to find a job that I would be happy to stay in for at least three years, preferably five.

I don't know what that job looks like.

And the most difficult thing about being stuck in this place is that I don't know where I want to be in five or ten years and so I can't really plan what I need to do to get there.  With school it was different and I ran full steam ahead to reach the end of the road.  With students it is different because I can listen to them and then articulate what they want and the steps needed to get there.  When it comes to me I am stuck.

Someone once told me it was because I was good at doing a lot of different things and so I get distracted.  This may be true.

Last month, I went through an identity exercise, courtesy of my dear friend Jan.  She created My Brand of Teaching and designed a workshop called The Big Brand Build. Going through that process helped me define myself and my talents and see how I could utilize them in a number of fields.  It helped me see that I am valuable.  But now I need to figure out how that turns into a career and some income.

Today I had a job interview for a job I could do in a district I don't care about.  The job pays really, really well -- especially compared to my last job.  But it's a job with late hours at night so I'd never see my family.  There are other issues -- some major -- with the job as well, but the main problem for me is that I would never be home in the evening during the week (I'd get home around 10PM).  Now I do believe that a difficult job that leads to something better, something I'd love, is fine for short term.  But does this particular job actually lead to something better?  I don't see it.

Later this week -- on Friday -- I meet with a director of a new start-up about a possible job there doing something that I love and that I've been doing for the past couple years.  Being a new company, the pay might be low and inconsistent for the first year...or two...and so if I were just making a decision based on finances, I would choose the other job.  But I want some place where I'd be happy.  Some place flexible.  Some place where I can be effective.

And I still don't know where that is.

A number of people have told me "A job is a job."  But money can't buy happiness [and to my siblings, "Money can't buy knives."].

And apparently a doctorate still doesn't tell you what you want to be when you grow up.

Summer Solstice

Today is the first day of summer.  As the solstice, it marks the high point in the year -- the day on which we have the most light.  I've always loved this day, but this year it feels more significant.  Perhaps that is because I am taking the time to note the day, rather than rush helter-skelter through life.

A dear friend of mine sent an e-mail sharing the significance of the day.  In it, she shared that the summer solstice is a time of beginnings -- the beginning of a season where we watch the fruits of our labor grow, mature, ripen, and become ready for the harvest.  Perhaps that is why I feel that today is significant.  I am ready to see the blossoms from all the seeds that I have sown turn into something beautiful, edible, nutritious. 

My work life seems to match the seasons.  I have worked to put forth some beautiful programs that will (hopefully) be a success over the next few weeks.  And then I am done with that job.  With new letters of recommendation, a new title, and a new lease on life I am ready to find whatever the next phase may be.  I think that this summer is time to harvest the fruits of my labor.

This morning I was not aware of the date, had not realized it was the solstice.  I awoke and realized that for the first time in a long time the sun was shining and it promised to be a beautiful day.  (The local paper recently published an article saying that this was the second-wettest spring in 117 years. No one had any trouble believing that.  Weather and Life were both overdue for a bout of sunshine.)  Like my lovely Lotus, I am somewhat solar-powered -- we both love the sun (as long as the temperatures stay relatively cool -- we are Pacific Northwesters after all).  Instead of feeling exhaustion, I felt exhilarated.  Instead of dreading the thought of applying for still more jobs (a very labor-intensive process, as anyone out of work will tell you -- especially when the job applications all want different essay questions answered), I had the energy for the task.  I completed multiple job applications and then Lotus and I took a walk around the neighborhood.

I do not know what the future holds.  But I do know that today is full of promise.  It is a day to enjoy and embrace life.  Tomorrow will see to itself if we see to today.  As my friend Marissa said: Be wild and free and alive as a tribute to all you have dreamed to bring forward now.


Happy Summer!

The Summer Day -- by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

My "kids" are the best in the world!

Today I was having a minor crisis.  This happens every time I have to look for a job, which, unfortunately, is more often than I would like. (Note: if you think you can change the world for the better, you may not be well-liked in some education circles, especially if you are effective in what you do. At least that has been my experience.)  In looking for a job I thought, why don't I just go back to teaching high school? I loved it and it was easier and had better hours than my current job, and sadly, it would actually pay a lot more. (Note #2: When the meager pay of a high school teacher is an improvement over your current salary, you are in the wrong job.)

Confession: I have two Facebook profiles.  One is locked and secure and is for my family and very close friends.  The second is for my former students.  Once all of those former students turn 21, then I'll probably combine the two, but until then, things are separate.  This has to do with my paranoia.  I have a deep-set fear that some 19 year-old would happen to see that Honey makes wine and then somehow it would spiral into a statewide newspaper story about how a teacher's low morals is corrupting the youth.  No thank you!

This afternoon, I posed a modified version of my dilemma on my "student FB": I'm thinking of returning to the classroom while I figure out what it is I want to do with life.  The responses made me laugh and cry and made me incredibly proud of my wonderful, intelligent kids.  I decided to keep these responses here on my blog so that I always remember.  If I'm tempted to think about this in the future, I'll have the voices of my kids running through my head.  (Ignore any grammar issues, as I have learned to do -- I am convinced that if I had four years with any of these kids they would now have proper grammar, but as it is I was only in various schools for a few years at a time.)
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KC: You were one of my most memorable teachers even though I only had you in my freshman year. Good luck with the search and I hope you find something you love, you are an amazing educator! Thank you for keeping in touch with me over the years :)

JH (Not a former kid -- the mother of one of my kids!): Just your presence in the classroom makes the school a better place! People of every age KNOW when someone cares for them (or not), and you DO. :)

FN (who asked if I gave up on becoming the Superintendent of Public Instruction for my state, and when I replied that it's no longer an elected position and I didn't have the connections to get appointed for the next term (four years from now) said): So what you're saying is you gave up before even trying??? Lol yes connections would be a huge advantage to getting closer to the job, but who says that's the only route to take?? If it _IS_ your dream then why quit? I mean what would have been the point of becoming Dr. B-- if you're just gonna go back to teaching social studies to high school students when you did that before you even had that title? Lol don't get me wrong, you were a really great teacher, but I feel you can do even more for us all as the Superintendent of Public Instruction for --- :) dreams don't die Ms. B--, maybe altered, but still with the same concept... [a few comments later] Honestly, I felt some of the staff at our school were a little careless about us lol most were great but even then, when it came down to helping us succeed, only a small amount actually tried..
Its not so much that I'm trying get you to feel guilty :) I'm just trying to help you see that the things you have done in the past as just a teacher were great and influenced us to become better young adults, but now that you have a new title you should aim higher and help a larger amount of students and even teachers to reach their full potential by improving schools across ---.. and say that the Superintendent of Public Instruction is not the place that you were looking for, then search for the next best thing and along the way you're leaving us with a great example of someone pursuing their dreams when not many people can truly do that... remember how you use to push us to reach our full potential? Do you think becoming just a teacher is your own or in a way your limit of potential? Cuz I feel you can do sssoooooooo much more :)

SK: [FN] you make lots of good points. I agree and Ms.-- I truly believe in you and know that you can do whatever you put your mind to I believe you will somehow drastically change the face of education. You were the only teach who ever pushed me so hard and you know I always succeeded and I have you to thank for pushing me and helping me understand I was capable of things I didn't know I could do. Somehow you knew my potential and even though you may not know it or see it I believe in you, I want my future children to know your name and somehow have a better education because of you. GO MS. ----!!!

 My response: My children, you are all amazing and so encouraging! Really, you are incredible and I am so proud of each and every one of you! I was reading your comments to -----, who said "I agree with your kids." He's been trying to get me to see these points for a long time, to push for something truly worthwhile and help a lot of people. I felt that I was able to do that to some extent this past school year -- I worked with teachers to help them learn how to improve their own teaching and I worked with a student teacher to get him to see how much more he could do to help students. Honestly, it's a lot easier in a high school classroom because as a high school teacher I could see improvement in all my students as the weeks passed. Working with teachers or soon-to-be-teachers means that I have to work in a much larger system, and the larger a system is the more problems it generally has, which is rather frustrating. But I guess more problems means more areas for improvement and I do love improving systems.

There are a few things that I've thought about doing:
1) Open a school (I'm actually working with a friend on this idea right now, so we'll see if something opens by 2012).
2) Teach pre-service teachers in a college (so they actually understand what it's really like and push themselves and then in turn push their students to succeed so that we have fewer of the teachers who just let kids slide, as F---- noticed happened when he was in school)
3) Doing some sort of professional development work with teachers to help them improve their practice (which is what I've been doing this year but my current job goes away in July)
4) Create some sort of business that goes into schools and looks at their systems and helps them figure out how to fix them (of course like I pointed out earlier, this requires adults who acknowledge the need for change)
5) Become the Superintendent of Public Instruction for ----, or, similarly, do something that would allow me to work on a national level (Secretary Arne Duncan, I have some ideas for you!).

You are right, my wonderful children, I would never accept anything less than your absolute best, so I will keep pushing forward myself and see where that leads. You are all amazing and I expect to hear that you are incredibly successful in life. Thanks for your encouragement!! :-)

SK (again): You know as I wrote the last comment I thought to myself how odd it felt to be giving you of all people encouragement but I guess we all need it sometimes! And I will be the best dental assistant I can be and you can be the best at what ever calls you to action in education. Ps I really hope you can come to my wedding next week it would really mean a lot to me. 

FN (again): nice! great plan, now lets see some results in the future =] 
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I do tend to hear nice things from former students and I keep in touch with quite a few of them.  Perhaps that's one of the reasons why I considered returning to the classroom -- I do love it and I can see results almost immediately.  But my kids are right: I need to push myself and be the best I can be.  Where or what that is, I don't know exactly.  But I will learn.  And then I will share with my kids.