I ran over my foot with a cart

And as I was repairing it with toenail clippers and off-brand Neosporin, I caught myself thinking, "Please help this to be a good idea!"

I'm relatively certain that's not how prayer works, but I hope God thinks I'm funny.

Unpacking

There's a reason I always bring my books with me when I move. They're the only things I've unpacked so far, and already I feel more at home. I can't wait to bring the rest of them!

Leaving Home (Again)

Nine months ago I admitted that I failed at being a real adult and reluctantly moved back to my parents' house. As I sit here supposedly packing my bags for adulthood attempt #2, I find that I am reluctant to leave again. Turns out home is a pretty nice place to be.

Did I ever tell you about this little running joke God and I have where He tries to teach me to stop judging people and I pretent I don't notice that's what He's doing? It came to my attention one afternoon in a Soviet style apartment house in Erfurt. See, I've always been selectively judgmental. Certain triggers that I didn't even consciously notice, like guys who came home from their missions with terrible American accents in their mission language, had me assuming they just didn't try hard enough/didn't love the people enough/were dumb/etc. I know, I'm a snob, right? So no one should be surprised to find that I never could get rid of my American accent in German. Anyway, I was beginning to notice this 2 step pattern (1. Secretly judge someone 2.Experience what I'd just secretly been judgmental about) when we went to go visit an adorable Kazakh grandma named Paulina. The whole time we were there I kept getting distracted by this mole she had on the inside of her eyelid. I kept thinking how annoying it would be to blink or try to close your eyes. I laughed out loud and said "Okay, God, I get it already," when I woke up the next morning with a blister on the exact same spot as her mole had been. He has a good sense of irony, that one.

Point of the story: living in your parents' basement as an adult gets you sent straight down the "loser" chute on the Eggdicator. So of course, that's what I ended up doing. And I while I was there I met some pretty amazing people who were also living at home as adults for a surprisingly wide variety of reasons. Lessson learned (again). Apparently what I need to do now is start judging people for being rich, gorgeous, and fabulously happy!

Gainful Employment

Starting August 16th, I now have it. Yay! I got the official "on paper" (which is to say "on PDF") offer today. I'm super excited to be at Summit Academy next week, and I'm looking forward to a great first year with them.

Some Very Scientific Questions

In pursuit of anecdotal evidence to satisfy my scientific curiosity, please answer me these questions three:

1.) Please rate your level of carsickness at the end of a windy canyon drive (you are not the driver):
a. I feel awesome
b. I'm a little icky
c. Bucket, please
d. Just shoot me now

2.) Please rate your level of carsickness at the end of an 8 hour drive over well maintained and mostly straight freeways (again, you are mostly not the driver)
a. I feel great
b. A bit tired
c. I want to hurl, but I know I won't
d. I already did

3.) When you play balance games on Wii Fit, how well do you usually score?
a. Ninja
b. Three out of four stars
c. Balanced
d. Loser

I'll tell you my theory after I know if I'm right, if you haven't already figured it out, that is.
Thanks!

That's My Kind of Failure!

One month ago I took a Praxis II test for Social Studies. Contrary to popular belief, it is not a practice test. It is the teacher equivalent of the bar exam. Except that this is my third one. And I still have to take one more. Anyway, the social studies one was pretty beastly, as in it was a very poorly written test. I also thought I had failed it, so I wondered if my critique was fair. Now that I have a gold embossed certificate declaring me the nation's top scorer, I feel qualified to criticize that sorry excuse for test writing.

What was not the second most important objective of the Crimean War? Anyone? Bueller? How about analyzing the effect of the French Revolution on the Mexican national anthem? If history's not your forte, try naming the three areas of the brain most involved in processing economic thought. In descending order. Anyway, the point is, the test did what all multiple choice tests do: it completely disregarded the test takers' content knowledge (which is ironic because the name of the test is Social Studies: Content Knowledge) and measured only the candidate's multiple choice testing skills. So thank you, federally mandated testing monopoly. Thank you for charging me two hundred dollars to tell me that I am a perfect test taker. Guess I'd better go update my resume!

Don't forget about the terrorist!

In my last post, I neglected to mention that the chickens had been living in the basement shower until one very brave pre-adolescent terrorist suited up and Drano-bombed the heck out of that guano-filled-cesspool. A job like that takes a strong stomach.....


...or a strong clothespin. Apparently the latter is more effective.

And in more depressing news, remember the school that never picked up my DVD? Well, I called and emailed them to find out what happened, and apparently signature required is just a little too rigorous for them, but they wanted another copy of the DVD right away. So I FedExed them a new DVD (no signature required) with tracking emails sent both to them and to me so they would, you know, notice if a package showed up for them. I emailed them back today to make sure it all arrived okay and to find out what's next in the process, and I received the following reply: "Thank you for sending the DVD! We have begun the process of reviewing it. Currently we have two positions open and we have made two offers for those positions. If either one of them is turned down, we will review you again as a possible candidate for the position."

This would be a perfectly amiable reply as per my previous rants directed to HR, except that I'm still hurt by the fact that they didn't bother to pick up the first package I sent them, and as a result I missed my chance and they offered the position to someone else. Seriously, what else was I supposed to do?!?!? Somewhere the Tom Hanks in my head (what? your extra personalities aren't famous Hollywood actors? Hmm) is telling me "it's not personal. It's business." This is the general scene that follows, but in my version, Meg Ryan slaps him, because in the end she's still the one sitting at home in a pile of Kleenex and he's still a bagillionaire, and no amount of self-righteous speeches can change that. But a good backhand might...

Animal House: Days 7 and 8

So in addition to housing six lovely children and one very exuberant labradoodle, this place is also home to three baby chickens (named Tortivia, PT Daily, and Indolai), a gosling named Chug, and two as of yet unnamed tadpoles. They are very large and probably toads.

For reference, that tupperware bowl has a ten inch diameter. The two youngest girls love the goose so much they've almost been guilty of multiple counts of fowl-slaughter, and I consider it quite the achievement that he has survived the week.


And last but not least, for any fellow fans of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society out there.... today the little girls were playing on the tramp and I was playing fetch with said exuberant labradoodle when I turned around to see the two year old laying on the middle of the tramp with her eyes shut and her arms crossed (think Anne of Green Gables), and the four year old jumping circles around her chanting "Dead girl, dead girl, silly little dead girl!" I told her I didn't know how to play that game, for which I received her sassiest glare and a very snarky "Do you even know Grandma Johnson?" Can't wait to ask Grandma what Dead Girl is all about....

Employer's Market

I did a second interview with a really super awesome school. It was awesome. They asked me to send them a DVD of me teaching. I paid 18 unemployed dollars (which is like $7,000 employed people dollars) to overnight it to them so they would consider me first. The post office notified me today that the package sat unclaimed for five days, before being returned to Idaho and lost. Life sucks.

Becoming Jane: Days 3, 4, and 5

The last few days the kids and I have settled into a bit of a rhythm, which is good, because it leaves me lots of free energy to freak out about the two year old having diarrhea (and sharing the tummy ache love with yours truly), but it's bad because it also means I've embraced my inner soccer mom. At least that's what I told myself I'd say to Stacy and Clinton if they caught me in Albertson's with clean but not brushed hair, an over-sized sweatshirt, and lime green crocs. This also gives me lots of time to knock on wood and hope no one shares germs with the four year old, because this whole situation would be so much grosser in big girl panties.

We've had adventures in violin lessons (when the teacher forgot to show up), adventures in glassware (how many pieces can you make out of just one cup?), adventures in raising SEVEN pets (oh let's just talk about those later, shall we?), adventures in broken toilets (how many times should you have to tell a four year old not to keep pooping in it?), and just about every other kind of adventure you can imagine. Here are just a few of them:

Fun with bubbles!
Fun with photoshop!

Fun with fauxhawks!

And last but not least, it turns out that homeschooling is actually really fun! ... when you're not concerned with how much they actually learn, that is...

Cheaper by the (Almost) Dozen: Days 2 and 3

I'm still not sure if the title of this post refers to the number of parentless cousins we amassed here on Saturday night, our average per diem egg usage, or the number childcare related favors I've already called in, but one thing's for certain: there's a reason you don't buy kids at Costco (and I don't mean those pesky little child trafficking laws). Heaven bless the older four for their self-sufficiency, the youngest two for being cute about needing things, and most of all the genius who slipped 2 hours of free babysitting into the Sunday block! Yet another reason this church is true ...

The Nanny Diaries: Day 1

Today is day 1 of an 8 day nannying stint for my aunt and uncle. Well, not really for them so much as for their six children, aged smallish-toddler to freshman in high school (is it bad that I don't actually know how old these children are?) Here's what I learned today:

You don't have to master speech before you master the ever delightful burp on command. This little angel (the smallish toddler) is still building up her 5 word vocabulary, but today when her older sister accidentally burped she looked around for a second, plugged her nose, swallowed some air, and let out a shockingly loud belch. Hilarity ensued.

Something about these glasses must be precocious. I always thought it was me, but I've noticed that spirited children are drawn to them, and look adorable in them.

The best phrase for distracting small children from missing their mommy is "Say 'cheese!'" which leads me to believe there will be more photorific blog fun before this gig runs out.

If I worked in HR

I've learned a few things from this process of trying to get a good teaching position in a bad economy, and most of them are what I would do if I worked in Human Resources (which, you never know, I might if this whole teaching job search thing doesn't get a whole lot more successful in a hurry). It's not that I think the HR people somehow aren't doing their best or don't have stressful jobs of their own, I'd just like to offer a few helpful suggestions from this side of the hiring process in case they haven't been here in awhile:

1. A little communication goes a long way! A simple form email that acknowledges the receipt of a completed application and supporting documentation makes candidates want to work for you 10 times more than for a district that didn't send one. Something simple like"Thanks for applying to our district! You can expect to hear from us in the next 2-3 weeks to schedule a screening interview," confirms that a. I actually sent all that stuff to the right place, and b. no wind, rain, sleet, snow, aliens, Dobermans, madmen with axes, or evil Russian cyber-henchmen prevented it from getting there. My application is actually being considered, and my "what if it didn't get there?!?!?!" anxieties hand their pom-poms and bullhorns over to their buddies "what if I don't look good on paper?!?" and "I bet 4,000 history teachers applied."

2. Even the unpleasant communication still goes a long way! Remember the cranky cook in Mary Poppins who sticks her head out the door after Ms. Poppins's "interview" with Mr. Banks to nasally declare that "the position 'as been fiwwed?" These days I like her more and more! There's a lot of uncertainty in the job hunting process, and I am determined that there is no worse feeling for a hopeful young applicant than leaving an interview knowing that you nailed it followed by several weeks of radio silence.* I am losing track of the number of times that's happened to me. The nagging frustration of not knowing where you stand joins forces with your inner pessimist to defeat the fledgling armies of hope, and pretty soon you find yourself sitting in bed at 5 pm wondering aloud to Ben and Jerry where your life went wrong. For all I know, I did ace the interview and the delay is just a side-effect of the bureaucratic nature of education, but it never feels like that. Districts don't send out mass emails announcing that someone else was hired because they want to have the option of hiring you if another teacher suddenly quits 2 weeks before school starts; I'm just not sure they realize that this also has the added benefit of driving most of the candidates certifiably crazy so the pool is pre-narrowed come August.

With all of that said, I do call and email the HR people to confirm that my application arrived, to check on the next step in the hiring process, etc., but even then, no one has the guts talk to you straight like the cranky cook.

*Watch, now that I said that, I'm going to start leaving every interview knowing I botched it and have to report that that feeling is, in fact, much, much worse. Let's hope not.

Because French androgyny is so much better than regular type

Thoughts I had while watching today's Cleveland vs. Chicago game... peripherally... very peripherally:

Wait, why is there a girl playing for the Bulls?

Oh crap! It's a man, and we're wearing the same hairstyle!

Oh, he's French, so I guess that makes it okay.

April Fools!

Item number one: I am not actually posting today after a four month hiatus. That is just an April Fool.

Item number two: How does one correctly punctuate April Fools? I mean, the day itself should be April Fools' Day because it belongs to many fools, not just one, but I just can't seem to figure it out without the day on the end.

Item number three: Here is how I celebrated this partially punctuated holiday:

For dinner I served grilled Paula Dean Poundcake and icing sandwiches (many thanks to CakeWrecks for the idea!) Mom actually took a bite of her sandwich before she figured out it wasn't made of bread and cheese.

The sandwiches were accompanied by a side of "tomato soup" made mostly of Rote Grutze (a German Jell-o-esque dessert made of rhubarb and raspberries), with some white chocolate pudding mixed in to cream it up and a little yellow dye to make it look more orangey. The "juice" in the glass is also Jell-o.

I also made a whole pitcher of Jell-o in the fridge, and Aaron totally drank it. He smelled it first and asked if I had replaced the juice with Kool-Aid for April Fools and I said yes, so he drank it. He actually finished the whole cup of partially-set Jell-o. I was impressed!

I'm a big fan of non-vindictive April Fools, so I'm glad that this year we got to celebrate in style.