I don’t think I have an single full-course post in me at the moment, but there are few tidbits I’m willing to share…
1. Further evidence of the suckage of Dell
Following my traumatic relationship with the sexy Dell laptop (I fell for its looks, but like most gorgeous creatures, it was fickle, unreliable, and ultimately a failure in the hard-drive area), I naturally ‘unsubscribed’ from the usual barrage of software update notifications, promotions, reminders, etc., etc.
I have now unsubscribed three times.
Unsuccessfully.
So on a weekly basis, at least, I get happy fuzzy e-mails from Dell.
Ok, I know that e-mail is relatively innocuous, but my Dell experience was bad (for “bad” read “unf&^%kingbelievably frustrating and stressful). I don’t want to hear from Dell. Stop calling me, dude. It’s over.
2. I can still see clearly now, although some details are apparently fuzzy
Four months, exactly, after my laser eye correction and I am still reveling in being able to see without glasses or contacts.
I was so pleased with my experience that I wrote the clinic and gushed a little. As a reward, they made me a patient mentor (as in a mentor to patients, not a mentor with patience). Ok, I’m fine with this idea, happy to talk to pre-surgery candidates about my experience, yada yada yada. Except they keep referring patients to me whose prescription and other details the clinic claims are like mine – and so far they are over 50 and wear bifocals.
3. I caved
I made the mistake of going to the welcome back to school corn roast and annual general meeting at (what is now only) Robert’s school – the school where I have been chairperson of the Governing Board for the past year, a position I was determined to give up.
Well, the real mistake was going to the meeting alone, without backup. Naturally, the principal cornered me, sweet-talked me, fed me roasted corn… I was helpless. So I’m back for another two years, albeit with promises to accommodate my schedule and stress levels. We’ll see. Stupid corn.
*the zombie snack of choice
Go forth and multiply
A friend recently contacted me, and a few other friends who are also parents, and asked for our input – she has a friend who has a one-year-old child, and who is struggling with the decision to have another, or not, and when. After I sent in my two-cents, it occurred to me that I could share this fiddling small change with the rest of you.
I realize none of you actually asked, but until you DO start suggesting topics*, this is what happens.
So, here’s what I sent to my friend – and I’ll forward any insight from the comments, should any be forthcoming:
I have two boys, 25 months apart, and although sometimes we sit back and wonder what the heck we were thinking, the benefits outweigh the hard work.
I am the oldest in our family, and my sister came along when I was seven – my brother another six years after that. So when I left home for college, my mother still had a pre-schooler! From our perspective as kids, we felt like we didn’t really know each other. My sister and I are friends now, but that took some doing as adults. My brother is practically a stranger. From our parents’ perspective, it must have seemed like an endless cycle – just when you finally get one through toddlerhood/childhood/adolescence, here comes another one, and another after that.
When Dr. T and I decided to have kids, we specifically decided on plural, and I said I wanted them to be close together. We actually aimed for something like “Irish twins” (there was a non-starter conception between the two boys).
Sometimes our house is non-stop chaos, but there are plenty of reasons I’m glad we ended up with our boys – they are close enough in age that when one has a friend over, the other can join in without it being an “imposition”; they have each other, not just at home but at school and at extra-curricular events; they share games, toys, books, jokes, bedtime, homework routines, and so on… When they were little, it was hard work sometimes; unlike my parents, though, when we were finished with diapers we were really finished with them. Chicken pox was a one-time occurrence at our house.
Now that they’re older, they’re developing their own interests, but they still spend most of their spare time together, even if it’s not always daisy chains and singing 😉
Colin started high school this week, so for the first time EVER they are in school at different places, taking different buses at different times – and for the first time I am actually worried about them getting to and from school, because they don’t have each other. Of course, my worries are pretty much groundless, but hey, mums gotta worry!
So, to summarize – two is good, close is good. (wow, that was waaay shorter than the first part)
*which is a neat idea – reader-generated topics! I may regret this, but feel free to send me something to write about. If you ask nicely, I’ll even try to avoid ending my sentences with prepositions, ’cause I know they freak some people out.
Take this job and… this job, and this job, and this job, and…
A few minutes ago, I updated my facebook status as follows: Maggie quit two jobs in two days, and feels AWESOME.
Panic has ensued, which, in a weird way, makes me feel loved. I think I have issues.
But my friends and I aren’t getting any younger, and I don’t want to stress anyone’s system more than necessary, so an explanation is in order.
I should start by saying that I did NOT quit my actual job, as a college English teacher. In fact, for those who missed that announcement a couple of weeks ago, I just got tenure, so I’m not going anywhere for a while.
I should also amend my original statement, in the sense that I didn’t actually “quit” anything:
Job #1: Content expert for the development of an on-line/distance education English Literary Genres course
I was hired for this almost three years ago, and at the time, was faced with no teaching for the winter semester, and no real guarantee of full-time teaching in the following semesters. This contract seemed like the perfect stop-gap – it involves taking one of my pre-existing courses, and developing the content, assessments and pedagogy for a self-directed learning package. Since I wasn’t teaching in the winter, I’d have plenty of time to write content, create assessments and the accompanying tutor/marker guides, and so on.
Ah, the best laid plans…
The project director was hired by another institution, so my direct manager was promoted, and a new manager was hired. Naturally, this whole management shift took a while, and all the ongoing projects had to shift their timelines to compensate – so all of a sudden I was being asked for lots of work, but about six months had gone by – and I was teaching full-time, fall and winter. I panicked – but the new project manager was very understanding, and we compromised by hiring a co-author.
This was great, particularly since the person we hired was a spectacularly competent friend I know from Vanier, and she was looking for work she could do from home so that she could justify extending her time at home with her son, beyond her mat leave.
For the winter semester, this worked fairly well – but I still found myself checking the caller ID on my phone, nervous that it was the project manager calling to remind me of deadlines or outstanding course elements; I got nervous when I checked my email for the same reason. I spent a lot of my summer “vacation” working and worrying about the project – in fact, I spend a significant number of hours on one section of the final chapter, only to be told that none of the material was necessary, since it had been covered elsewhere by my co-author.
Suffice it to say that my stop-gap had turned into a big ball of stress.
So yesterday I called my co-author and asked her how she’d feel about taking on all of the remaining work, with the remaining money, obviously. Turns out she was thrilled to have a bit more work while she’s still at home with her son. I called the project manager, and while I suspect she was not entirely surprised, she was very understanding, and tada, it’s done.
I’m still involved in the sense that I will be available as a consultant while my co-author works on the remaining material, and that I’ll review the entire course when it’s, well, entire, so in that sense, I did not “quit.” But I quit!
Job #2: Chairman of the Board
Two years ago, I was encouraged to become a member of the Governing Board for my sons’ elementary school. I accepted the nomination, and was elected (to a two-year term as a parent representative) by the parents on hand at the first school gathering of the year.
Now, as a former high school outcast, being elected to anything at school is, like, wow. You like me!
Initially, this added commitment meant an evening meeting once every month, which wasn’t too arduous, even if it did mean limiting myself to one glass of wine with supper, instead of getting roaring drunk, like the rest of the week. But then last fall, our chairperson was not re-elected, much to everyone’s surprise, given that she’d been chair for years.
Another parent nominated me as chair, and I accepted that nomination too (I know, I bring it all on myself really. I can’t say “no.” That’s how I ended up with the two sons in the first place). I was acclaimed (which is really cool, except that no one else wanted it, so, well…)
Again, this wasn’t a particularly arduous position – a little more prep time before the monthly meeting, but that was spent with the principal, who is an awesome lady, and whose educational/global philosophy is just like mine, but more articulate.
But then, at the beginning of 2009, the school board announced a Major School Change consultation. Anytime you’ve heard some lunatic ranting on CBC/NPR about the school board and the government threatening to close schools, change programs, move students, etc., that’s Major School Change. As the Governing Board, we have to attend meetings with the school board, meet with other schools’ GBs, draft proposals, consult our fellow parents, and so on.
Ack!
This was, quite literally, not what I signed on for.
Now, as it happens, my two-year term as a parent rep is up, and I would have to be re-elected to continue on the GB. So I sent the principal an email and said, as nicely as I could, that I was not going to accept the nomination this time. So, technically, I did not quit, I just didn’t seek re-election. But I quit!
Jobs #3, 4, 5 and 6: the ones I didn’t quit
~ I’m still teaching full time, and loving it – three courses, 120 students… but I’ll write more about that some other time.
~ I’m getting ready to present my proposal for my M.Ed. research. I’ll be gathering data this fall, and writing my thesis next winter.
~ I’m also preparing and heading a project for our Liberal Arts program, with the aim of creating a more interdisciplinary and coherent program.
~ Despite all my other commitments, my family hasn’t kicked me out, so there’s the whole wife and mother thing.
So, yes, I am a free(er) woman. Maybe I’ll even have time to blog 🙂
The light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train
Summer vacation is fast coming to a close – I’m already putting together my framework for the coming semester, printing outlines, planning the first week of classes…
So it occurred to me that I should probably get my act together and post some photos from our grand European excursion. In the four weeks we were there, we went to Wales, Scotland and France, and made several day trips to various English locales, including Bath, Oxford, Milton Keynes and Bourton on the Water, and spent a lovely afternoon at the Batsford Arboretum:
The magnolias were almost finished, but this lovely flower was waiting for me.
Over the next few weeks, things will still be nuts, but I’m hoping that as a few of my various projects wind up that I will have more time and energy to think about my blog. I miss it 🙂
In the meantime, please do check out the photos, over on my flickr page.
Why I have been too distracted to blog
…also, there is a lot of wine here. Also, bread, cheese, more bread… but the wine is the real obstacle. Blitzed blogging is perhaps not the best idea.
Paris, I [heart] you.
What I did on my summer vacation [week 1]
This summer, we are once again in the idyllic Cotswolds, reconnecting with the UK branch of the family. As always, Dr. T can only be with us for one week out of the four that we’ll be here, but the boys and I are well taken care of by his side of the clan.
As the most recent member of the family, Layla, arrived about four weeks ago, we were expecting a rather relaxed trip, what with the whole “just gave birth” thing. However, in the week that we’ve been here, we’ve already:
– attended a medieval festival in Tewkesbury, complete with battle reenactment
– made our annual pilgrimage to Bournton-on-the-Water’s model village
– eaten at Jamie Oliver’s Italian restaurant in Oxford
– toured the Corinium museum in Cirencester
Tomorrow, we’re off to Raglan Castle in Wales, and on Friday, the boys and I will take the train to Glasgow to spend a few days with my grandmother. The rest of the month will be filled with trips to Milton Keynes, London and Paris.
But the highlight of this summer, as it has been for the last two, is the scenery right outside the front door of the house*.
Granted, being here has made me appreciate having kids who are no longer infants or toddlers, not to mention having my own bed, in my own bedroom, but the bottom line is that I lucked out in the in-law department. My sister-in-law is someone with whom I have a great connection – not surprising, really, given that her brother is Dr. T and her mother is TWGMIL ™, but wonderful, nonetheless.
I had a longer post planned, and partly written, but I goofed and inadvertently shut down the computer, after which there was supper, and dessert, and wine, and tea, and, and, and… so I’m posting mainly for the benefit of Dana 😉 But there will be more, certainly – in fact, Colin now has his own camera, so there are two of us recording it all for posterity.
*There are loads more photos from our first week on my flickr page.
Pret a (ap)porter
We’re off to the UK on Tuesday evening, and I am in my traditional just-about-to-pack-but-not-yet phase, in which the simple act of getting dressed becomes terribly complicated because I might want to pack that t-shirt, so I can’t wear it now.
This situation is newly exacerbated by Colin, who has been asking, every day for at least two weeks, “should we start packing today?”
Further complicating matters is the fact that the UK is apparently experiencing some weird heat wave, which is anomalous with the past three summers we’ve spent there, which have been cold and frequently damp. Obviously, I have to pack for the hot, dry weather that seems to be happening, but based on previous experience, I also have to pack for cold, damp weather.
In past years, I have tried to be minimalist in my packing, with the strategy that a quick trip to one of the myriad charity shops will fully supplement my wardrobe for the duration of my stay, at the end of which everything can be regifted to the very same shop. This is, of course, a brilliant plan, but in actual execution has proved to be seriously flawed, primarily because the selection of clothing at the charity shops is, naturally, limited and frequently amusing/terrifying. So the result of the carefully-laid plan is that I end up spending a month in the same pair of jeans and increasingly tattered t-shirt, insisting that we go shopping again, like some kind of deranged treasure hunter who believes that this next expedition will be the lucky one.
So this year, in an effort to appear slightly less shopping-mad, I am trying to pack as if there are no charity shops, or Marks & Spencer, or Clarks, or BHS, or woolen mills, and so on, so that our visit can be about reconnecting with family and celebrating the arrival of Layla, the newest member of the family, rather than about me channeling Becky Bloomwood.
One might think that since there are three of us travelling, and we’re each entitled to two checked bags, that the obvious solution is to get six suitcases and cram them full of everything we own; however, once packed, the six suitcases would then have to be transported to the airport in one car, then retrieved by one adult at the baggage carousel at Heathrow, manipulated onto a coach, and then stuffed into an even smaller car for the final leg of the journey – not to mention the inconvenience of having six suitcases in active use in a relatively small house for four weeks.
Mind you, my in-laws are relatively laid back, and if the weather really is hot and dry, maybe the solution is clear – I have to convince them of the benefits of life au naturel.
Then all I’d need to pack is sunscreen 🙂
They even got the elephants…
I am writing this from a very posh, very plush king-sized bed in a luxury hotel in downtown Montreal, while drinking a third cup of room-service coffee, gazing at a vase of my favourite flowers.
A few months ago, I assigned Dr. T the task of making my 40th birthday a major event, and I recruited Aurora to ‘assist’ him in the task, mainly to ensure that (a) someone who knew what I meant by ‘major’ was involved and (b) specifically, someone who understood that ‘major’ does not mean ‘pinball machine’ was involved.
Well, I could not have chosen better party planners.
Last night, we started with an Ethiopian feast with a group of my nearest and dearest, where we enjoyed great food and I was lavished with prezzies; the meal was topped off with two beautiful and scrumptious cakes – one peaches and cream, and the second spicy chocolate. Then we walked over to the Hotel de la Montagne, where we found my family and more wonderful friends waiting (with yet more prezzies). We drank and chatted and danced, and at 10 o’clock we made our way to the rooftop terrace to watch the fireworks (technically coincidental, but a nice touch, nonetheless). The party went on til we closed the bar, after which Dr. T brought me upstairs to our room (!), furnished with my baby laptop, our wave radio, my clothes for the morning after, and a vase of calla lilies. And the leftover spicy chocolate cake.
I don’t know what I did, in this life or any previous ones, to deserve such fantastic people in my life.
Highlights of the evening:
– Partying with Kuan Yin and Alison, both of whom travelled great distances to share the evening with me (not to mention sharing a lot of wine with me the night before).
– Laughing at my dad, who was essentially mugged by each of my girlfriends in turn when he told them “no kissing” – probably knowing full well that would be taken as a challenge…
– Trying to keep up with my mum, about whom several of my men friends asked questions such as “really? That’s your mother?” and “so, if I were to talk to her, are there any special interests or hobbies I should mention?”
– Hanging out and dancing with my sister, who stayed to help me close the bar and did her best to make sure that I had enough to drink.
– Seeing my Vanier crew, who turned out in great numbers – I don’t have a job, I have an extended family.
– Posing for Irene, the self-appointed event photographer!
– Turning around every five minutes to see yet another familiar, happy face… just when I was thinking everyone had arrived, someone else would turn up.
– Hitting the dance floor, where a twenty-something girl eyed me up and down and said “Oh thank God – another young person!”
In short, I had a wonderful time, and will spend much of the next forty years trying to express my thanks to the A-team (i.e., Aurora and Andrew).
It’s not you, it’s me
Every time I sit down and dash off another blog entry, I say to myself “this time it will be different. I will post again. Soon. Like tomorrow.” Then what happens?
Apparently I black out for about a month.
Well, no, of course not. Life, as always, happens, and at the most inopportune moments. Let’s take a look at this week, for instance:
Sunday: spent the afternoon at Laronde with all my boys.
Monday: did a few hours of work on the Cegep a distance project, punctuated wonderfully by lunch with Aurora, and spent some time revising my course package for next fall’s Liberal Arts course.
Tuesday morning: biked to NDG to help Dina move – between the two of us, we moved her queen-size bed & boxspring, not to mention three dressers, two tables, a recliner and, if I remember correctly, a grand piano. Might have been a panda. Something black and white.
Tuesday evening: ate v.g.* Chinese food with Aurora, followed by the Vanier grad – as the Liberal Arts rep, I was part of the platform party, which involves sitting under hot stage lights for a gazillion hours while several people talk about school pride and achievements, standing up to hand DECs to the three Liberal Arts graduates who attended the ceremony, and sitting down again. On stage. Which means hundreds of people will see if you yawn, scratch, slouch, etc.
Wednesday: yet more Cegep a distance stuff, then popped into Vanier to drop off the revised course pack and take care of a few other odds and ends, then had lunch with Aurora (is there a pattern here?), then dashed home to tidy for incoming visitors, then drove off to the boys’ school to collect them, since Colin was away at camp (!) and got back to the school long after the buses left. Got them home, shoved Colin into a much-needed shower, made supper and did another round of tidying in time for the aforementioned visitors.
Thursday: leaped out of bed stupid early and rush off to the plane station to collect Alison and my godson, who are in town to help me celebrate the big day, had breakfast with same + Cam & Paula & Alex, dropped Alison off at her brother’s place, rushed home, put another five hours into the Cegep a distance project, then grabbed my kids and headed off to the school BBQ. Lovely, rainy, damp weather… but excellent turnout, nonetheless, so all’s well, etc.
It’s only Thursday?
Anyway, none of this is really all that time-consuming, but then there’s Facebook and Google chat, not to mention eBay, where I am relisting my Nikon camera for the third time because the guy who “bought” it last week has lost his job and therefore his desire for a camera.
So once again, I am reduced to posting a lengthy post about why I don’t post very often anymore… but this time it will be different. I will post again. Soon. Like tomorrow.
*all the Cegep a distance stuff this week has been analysis of Bridget Jones’ Diary. Find self frequently abbreviating, not to mention v. worried about calories consumed. Am texting like 14-yr-old girl.
I can see clearly now
So, as mentioned previously, I am undergoing somewhat of a metamorphosis now that I’m turning 40. The navel piercing was two weeks ago, and this week it’s the eyes.
I have worn glasses, and later contacts, since I was a teenager. I’ve never actively hated having to wear glasses, partly because half my family, including my husband, wears glasses, and I work in a college, which means that a significant number of my colleagues are bespectacled.
I have wondered about laser eye surgery for a while now, and decided about a month ago that as long as I was doing all this other stuff to my body, why not take a closer look (NPI) into the procedure. Added motivation included helping a friend choose a pair of truly lovely new frames, which, with her prescription lenses, cost her about $700, and scuba diving – you can get scuba masks with prescription lenses, for $$$, or you can get a regular mask and hope that you never lose a contact lens. They’re hard enough to find when you drop one on the bathroom floor. Imagine trying to spot one on the ocean floor, under 45 feet of water.
I went in for my free consultation last week at LASIK MD (I might as well give them the endorsement). They put my eyes through a series of tests, including one that looked like it was inspired by Dr. Evil’s time machine (and when I mentioned this the clinician squealed and thanked me, because no one else ever knows what she’s blathering about if she mentions it). The end result was that I was an “ideal” candidate for LASIK (it’s the name of the procedure as well as the company).
So yesterday morning, I went in for my final pre-op check, got the all clear (again, NPI) and had my zyoptix LASIK surgery at the hands of the lovely and talented Dr. Dagher (unlike Kit Marlowe, this was a welcome Dagher in the eye).
This morning, I went for my one-day post-op check-up and hyphen extravaganza- right now I have 20/20 vision and it can only get better as my eyes continue to heal.
My only regret is that I didn’t do this ten years and several pairs of glasses and contacts ago.
The procedure itself took about two minutes. I was concerned that I’d freak out watching a laser beam headed for my eye, but in fact it looks a lot like those red dots you have to stare at when you’re getting your eyes tested. It didn’t hurt, or sting or anything. There was some noise, but as someone who hates the dentist cacaphony, this was nothing.
I dozed for most yesterday afternoon, listening to a book I had pre-loaded onto my MP3 player (no books or computers for 24 hours). Heidi thought it was the best day ever, and is a little disappointed to discover today that I haven’t been converted to the cat way of life. I administered three different kinds of eye drops every couple of hours – that continues, every 5-6 hours now, for the rest of this week, then I’m free to ditch the meds and just continue with artificial tears as needed.
So far, my eyes are still great. I was worried that I’d feel like I had a pair of old contacts or bad allergies, since those are apparently frequently reported aftereffects, but my eyes feel fine. I suspect I am one of the ‘results may vary’ cases – no itching, no blurriness, no redness – and I can see perfectly. There were two other women at the clinic this morning who had their surgeries yesterday as well, and the one that I spoke to said her vision was still pretty blurry and she was very teary, which I think is probably the more common post-op status.
Anyway, bottom line is that I am 100% satisfied with LASIK MD, and if you too have wondered about it, I hope my story helps. Feel free to ask questions! I also found the LASIK MD website really useful, and comprehensive, so if you have technical questions, you can try there, too.