Some more resolutions for 2011:

5. Get a job. I haven't had a full time teaching job since we moved. I'm tired of subbing, tired of tutoring. I miss having a classroom of my own, students of my own, lessons to plan, papers to grade. Plus, we really need the money that only a full time job can give us. Heck, even a part time one!

6. Work harder at the subbing and tutoring until I GET that job. I need to check into daycare so I can find out if subbing will even be a viable option. I mean, subbing only makes about $75 a day. Is it really worth it if daycare costs $50 a day? Would it be better to just try to float as a tutor during Brendan's naps as much as possible? It would be less stress for him, certainly. But there's no guarantee of hours unless I schedule for them, and I can't count on Brendan to be reliable as far as the times of day he's willing to sleep. Some days I might get plenty of sessions, and some days I might not get any at all. And what if Brendan starts screaming during a session? I'm not supposed to bail out of a session, but how can I let Brendan scream for an unknown length of time while I finish the session? This will really be a challenge.

7. Keep in better touch with my family. I need to make sure I speak with my dad and brother every week. I put too much stock in their efforts, and not enough into my own.

Well, I'm sure there are plenty more resolutions I can make. I may update the list if I think of more.

Regardless, I hope 2011 is full of nothing but good things for you and yours. Happy New Year!

New Year's Resolutions, Part One:

1. Get more organized. I received a couple of organizers for Christmas (I'd have thought it was a hint, but I asked for them), so I need to use them. Keep track of bills, baby stuff, medical stuff, coupons...you know, that sort of thing. I need to get some more inserts for my DayRunner, as well, and then use them.

2. Eat better and exercise more. I'm about ten pounds away from my weight when I found out I was pregnant, and then about, oh, sixty pounds away from the weight that someone my height and build SHOULD be. Oh, this will be a joy. I'm making no predictions about how much weight I will lose in a particular amount of time, because it's going to be really, really hard to guarantee exercise time with the baby. I haven't done anything physical since last July. No, seriously. Labor doesn't count.

3. Read more. Thanks to my husband and the wonders of technology, I have nearly 500 books on my Kindle to read. I have always loved reading, and I read really fast. However, I haven't read more than a chapter or two a day recently, because of the baby. Instead of parking in front of the TV or the computer while I feed Brendan, I should have my Kindle with me. Again, I can't guarantee a timeframe to plow through all my e-books (plus a couple in paper form), but I need to pick it up for sure.

4. Make more effort to keep the house in order. I've test-driven the baby in his front-carrier, so I should be able to walk around the house with him without having to have a hand on him at all times. It'll make loading the dishwasher and doing the laundry a lot easier. I know he won't want to be in there all the time, but even brief periods will help.

I'll add more resolutions tomorrow. Gotta start getting ready for bed!

Is it weird that I'm so bothered by the fact that my church, as well as many others, don't have a church service on Christmas Day?

My church growing up did. It was certainly not as well-attended as Christmas Eve services were, but they did have one, and the "regulars" (as I would call them) always attended. I pretty much always went. My dad (and I) sometimes had to sing with the choir, but even when we didn't at least my mom and I went, and usually my brother too, and my dad most of the time. So it seems normal in my mind to have church on Christmas Day. After all, that IS the holiday. I always thought of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day as two different holidays, one about the promise, and one about the fulfillment.

Now, I know the reasons most churches don't have a Christmas Day service. First of all, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are pretty much the same holiday, and so people go on Christmas Eve just like many people go to church on Saturday evening instead of Sunday morning--it fulfills the same purpose. Christmas Day services aren't very well attended because people have all their other activities that day--presents, parties, dinners, etc.--and they schedule their time around the church services the night before. And pretty much everyone opens presents on Christmas morning, and who would be cruel enough to make little kids wait to open their presents until after church? Lastly, it gives the pastors and other church officials a chance to spend the holiday with their families after what is usually a pretty time-consuming and maximum-effort to produce the Christmas Eve services, since most churches have more than one.

But it just seems to me that part of the family holiday on Christmas Day should be spend at church. I mean, Jesus IS the reason for the season, and all that. If we spend Christmas Eve in anticipation of His arrival, shouldn't we be back in church on Christmas morning to celebrate the arrival?

I'm feeling oddly lonely as the holiday draws nigh.

For the first time since, well, since we started dating, my husband and I are celebrating Christmas in our own home instead of traveling to one of our family members' houses. We've always alternated between going to San Diego to my parents' house or to Wyoming to his parents' house. Traveling wasn't really ever a problem because we didn't have kids. We either packed the dog into the car with us or found someone to watch him for the week or so that we'd be gone.

It was kind of fun, because it gave both of us the chance to experience each other's childhood Christmas traditions and compare our experiences. "My" Santa wrapped presents; "his" Santa didn't. "My" Santa put all the stocking stuffers into the stockings; if it didn't fit, it got given as a regular present. "His" Santa arranged the stocking stuffers that didn't fit into a display around the stockings (this is where the Santa gifts were also placed, rather than under the tree). Our moms made some of the same dishes for Christmas dinner, and some very different dishes as well. My family usually attended multiple Christmas eve church services (thanks to my dad and I singing in the choir) and a Christmas morning service; my husband's family went to their church's only service on Christmas eve and that was it. It was a great insight into each other's upbringing and childhood.

Since my mom passed away a few years ago, my own family stopped doing the family Christmas in San Diego. My brother had his own Christmas with his girlfriend and her family, and my dad came out to visit my inlaws a couple of years and then stayed in his new home in Nevada (and spent Christmas day with his cousins who live an hour away). And we simply went to Wyoming each year.

But now we have our own little family unit. This year, my inlaws went to St. Louis to my sister-in-law's house. We could have gone as well, but the two travel options--20+hours in a car or two airplane flights--did not seem particularly pleasant with a 2-month-old baby. Heck, the five hours to my inlaws' house in Wyoming seems a lot longer with the baby in the car. My dad is staying in Nevada again. My brother is currently in Afghanistan, having his own weird holiday. So we decided that this would be our opportunity to start our own family Christmas traditions, combining traditions from both of our upbringings. Also, it would be a nice, quiet, no-stress event, not worrying about going out anywhere, playing any games, going sledding or skiing, having company over, or anything like that.

But now that everyone is elsewhere, I'm feeling a little let-down. Some of the build-up and excitement that comes with the holiday seems to be lacking. We didn't decorate as much as usual, we haven't baked any Christmas cookies yet, and we didn't put a lot of effort into our presents (money being tight, and the spudster being a little too young to really participate in the holiday). So this Christmas just seems a little, I don't know, less Christmasy than other years. I'm sure next year will be different; Brendan will be old enough to help open presents and put an ornament or two on the tree. But for this year, I'm just not feeling the spirit.

I need to remember that the holiday has nothing to do with my family traditions and everything to do with the Son of God. That's what I need to focus on...

I am strangely disappointed by our lack of winter weather so far. Which is funny, because it isn't winter yet. But last year, we had four snowfalls (none of which stayed on the ground for more than a day at most) during the month of October. This year, while we had a few days that were kind of chilly and windy, and an occasional rain shower, we had NO snow at all. We're three days into November, with no snow in the forecast until at least the 12th (and of course that could change any time). We did get a little more of a "fall" than we did last year; the leaves actually changed colors instead of just drying up and falling off the trees. But I feel somehow unfulfilled by the weather, which has just been middle of the road (50s and 60s) with some sun and wind. I either want a ridiculous Indian summer with temps in the 70s, or snow with temps in the 30s and 40s.

And the funniest thing of all is, it isn't like I'm even going outside these days. My husband is walking the dog in the mornings while I start feeding the baby, I can't really take the dog for a walk during the day because I'm home alone so I just put the dog on a lead out in the back yard, and I MIGHT get to walk the dog at night before bed IF I'm not in the middle of another feeding. It's pretty ridiculous of me to be this disappointed by the weather. But I am. Maybe it's the hormones.

Had an upsetting experience this evening. I took my dog out for an evening walk, just down the street a block or so to an empty lot where the dog likes to pee. We had turned around at the corner and were walking back on one side of the street. Approaching on the other side were two teen-aged girls (maybe 13-15 years old) walking three dogs: a golden retriever and a black lab, both on leashes held by the two girls, and a dachshund who wasn't on a leash. As they approached, the younger of the two girls exclaimed at my dog, "Oh, look, a husky!" I was launching into my usual speech ("No, he's a Shiba Inu, like a miniature Akita, they're the most common dog in Japan, blah, blah, blah), when suddenly the retriever ripped her leash from the older girl's hands and came barreling full speed across the street at us. Maerlyn (my dog) has always been protective of me and, several times when loose dogs have approached us, he has placed himself between the other dogs and me (which usually means I have to then drag him behind me and try to put myself between the dogs). Of course he charged to the end of his leash to meet the oncoming dog. I dragged him behind me, trying to put myself between the two dogs to give the girls time to come grab their dog. But the retriever was determined to get to Maerlyn. As we turned in circles, with me yelling at the retriever to stop and back off, she pounced on him, biting the back of his neck (he, meanwhile, was flailing and snarling at her). I managed to pull him out from under her and turn away, to find the other girl sitting in the middle of the street with her arms around the lab, trying to keep him from joining the fray. I have no idea if he had actually pulled loose from her or not. Maerlyn and the dachshund, meanwhile, were snarling at each other. When I turned back to make sure those two didn't get into it, I saw that the older girl had gotten hold of the retriever. Both girls were apologizing profusely as Maerlyn and I walked out of harm's way. About half a block up the street, I stopped to check Maerlyn and make sure he was OK. He was damp on one side of his neck from the retriever's slobber when she grabbed him, but it didn't seem that she had punctured his skin or anything (thank goodness for a super-fuzzy dog). He seemed pretty amped up, energy-wise, but didn't seem any the worse for wear. I, on the other hand, was a complete wreck. I managed to get the two of us up onto our driveway and walking up the sidewalk to the front door before I started to cry. It just scared me so much. I am very protective of my dog, and I felt like I wasn't able to protect him and that he'd escaped injury through luck and not through my actions. I can just picture my big fat pregnant self trying to keep between the two dogs. And of course the realization that I could have been hurt and potentially the baby as well (if I had fallen or something) didn't make it any better. I had my husband check over the dog once we got into the house, to make sure he really was OK. It took me about five minutes of shaky crying before I calmed down. It just made me feel really vulnerable.

Of course, after I calmed down it occurred to me that the excitement and adrenaline of the whole event could have made me go into labor. That doesn't seem to have happened (since it's been a couple hours now and I haven't had any contractions or anything). But it was pretty darned intense, and I'd like to avoid that kind of excitement for a while.

I have seen my future, and it involves a lot of housework.

I am the world's worst housewife. Pretty much since we moved to Montana, I've had ample time at home, time that I could have been spending making my house a sparkly clean paradise.

But no. I am one of the laziest people I know. Even though there may not be a single worthwhile thing on TV, even though I've watched all our DVDs a thousand times, even though I'm bored out of my mind, I will still sit there, watch TV, watch movies, read books that I've read many times before, rather than get off my butt and do a lick of housework.

Before we moved, I excused myself by considering how much work I had to do that was related to school and coaching, and how tired I was when I got home. Also, we didn't have a dishwasher, we didn't have storage space, and our house was a piece of crap, so I didn't feel that bad about letting the clutter and mess permeate the place. Why take care of it when it wasn't all that great to begin with?

But now, I have no excuses. I have a nice dishwasher, closets and a garage, and no fulltime job. I have plenty of time to spend working on my house, and plenty of places to put things when I put them away. And yet I still sit on the couch all day like a lump.

Now, these last few weeks I've had a little bit of an excuse, since I'm at the end of my pregnancy and having a hard time getting around. But there are still things I could be doing, like putting things in closets and drawers rather than leaving them piled up on countertops. And putting dishes in the dishwasher. And all those sorts of things.

Well, as we've let the house get cluttered up, we've had more to deal with than ever, with all the baby paraphernalia that we are collecting. Clothes, bottles, blankies, toys, furniture...there are piles of baby things everywhere. And now we're struggling to keep up. All the stuff needs to be washed and put away. We're trying to decide where things need to go, and not everything has a home yet. So the house is more cluttered and messy than it has ever been before. Coupled with our basic things, like piled up dishes and mail that needs to be put away, and we've got a disaster of epic proportions.

So, I guess I need to get better at housekeeping IN A HURRY, or we'll never dig ourselves out. I'd hate to misplace the baby in the mess and not be able to find him.

The amount of motivation one possesses is inversely proportional to the amount of work that needs to be accomplished. I've got a checklist of things I need to do before the baby gets here, and I'm inside of five weeks to my due date. I really need to get on it, but it's so easy to just hang out on the couch and not do anything. I don't know how to motivate myself. But I really have to get going on things, or else I won't have anywhere to put the little spud when he shows up!

Another school year is starting, and again I don't have a classroom of my own. I'm looking at another year of subbing (of course, punctuated by however long I'm out for the baby), and more online tutoring. Both the subbing and the tutoring are poor substitutes for having my own classroom and my own students. It's disappointing, because I feel unwanted, even though I suspect the reason I did not get the positions for which I interviewed was the pregnancy (or, more specifically, the fact that I would be missing two months out of the first semester--if I were due after Christmas it might have been a completely different story). I've never had trouble getting a teaching job before, and I spent seven years being an important part of a faculty. Now, I feel like an afterthought, a runner-up, and a ghost in the hallways, just another substitute teacher wandering through the school day. It makes me long for my old school, my old classroom, my old students. I just hope I can get through the school year (and make enough money that we don't starve!). *sigh*

Well, we've been in Montana for a full year now. Time to take stock of "where we are". As far as our goals go, we've done pretty well. My husband really likes his job, which is a huge improvement over what we left. We own our own home now, and we really love it. And we're pregnant and due in October. All of these are good things. Also, we're getting to know the area and the recreational possibilities: we've found good hiking, biking, camping, golfing, and skiing/snowboarding, and Ross has finally hooked up with the local paddling group for a couple trips.

But there are still a few things we don't have. First of all, I don't have a job. I'm subbing, which just isn't very satisfying and doesn't make particularly good money. I'm also tutoring online, which is interesting but just isn't the same as teaching in a classroom. I'm looking at trying to get into indexing, but I don't really know how to go about finding an actual job in the field. Going all summer without my having any income has definitely caused us some problems. We're back in the same financial hole we have found ourselves in so many times before. I had hoped to have a teaching position for the imminent school year, but despite interviewing for three different positions, I don't have anything. We're a little suspicious that perhaps my being pregnant influenced the decision-making process for these positions, but I can't help feeling unwanted. I've never had a problem getting a job before. It really makes me miss my former school.

The other thing we're missing is, well, people. We haven't really made any friends here. When we moved to Memphis, we had an automatic in because my sister-in-law and her husband lived in Memphis, and we did everything with them. Gradually, through work and then through kayaking, we found good friends. Here, we just haven't had those opportunities. It's made me kind of sad; friends in Memphis keep asking if I've had a baby shower, and I haven't been able to admit that I don't have anyone to throw me one.

So we're still working on things. I'm still glad we moved, but there are definitely things, and people, I hate having left behind.

To fence or not to fence.

Actually, that's not even the question. Of course we will fence; we're about to have a kid who will inevitably want to run around outside at some point, and the five-strand barbed wire fence that separates our yard from the prairie is surely inappropriate at best. Plus, it sure would be nice to have a place to chuck the dog in the early morning hours when he wants to go out and I'm just not ready to give up my warm bed.

But what to fence with? And how to do it? Those are the questions we're dealing with. On one side, we have a neighbor whose yard was fenced before we moved in. They used the most popular fencing material in our neighborhood, white vinyl, easily purchased at Lowe's or Home Depot and relatively inexpensive. Now, our neighbors on the other side are planning to start their own fencing project, and they wish to use stained cedar, which definitely looks a lot classier than the vinyl fencing does. So we're going to be mismatched either way we go.

I see a real benefit to the vinyl fencing. It is inexpensive and low maintenance. It is also probably a little easier to install than the wood fence. But the wood fence really does look nice. So we have a decision to make. At some point. Heck, the little munchkin won't be running around for over a year, so we have time.

The other problem is, how to fence? Ideally, I would like to fence as far forward on both sides of the house as possible, all the way up to the front corners of the house. That would give us maximum yard space, which we really need because our back yard is extremely small. On the "wood" side of the house, that won't be a problem, although the front corner of our house is much farther forward than that of our neighbors' house. It probably means we'd have to add on to the front of their fence to extend it as far forward as we can. But all we have on that side of the house is the side of the garage with the rear garage door, and one single basement egress window. As long as that garage door and the egress window are behind the fence, they are somewhat protected.

The other side, "vinyl", is the problem. Our neighbor on that side lives on a plot that is just the beginning of a cul-de-sac part of our street. This means their plot is at maybe a bit of an angle to ours. Their house sits at an odd angle on the lot, as well, so the side of their house does not run exactly parallel to ours. They fenced from the back corner of their house on that side, and the back corner is not as far forward on the lot as ours is. So if we just came off their post, our fence would run at an angle to get to the back corner of ours. It would look strange. Not to mention that it would do nothing to maximize our meager yard. But if we were to fence forward of their fence, we run into another problem. I suspect that the property line is not what is delineated by where the neighbor has built a decorative wall (part of their lot is a little higher than ours). I think the property line probably veers away a bit from that little wall, some of the grass we mow as "ours" is actually on their property. So how weird is it going to look if we fence along the property line, and will someone be able to fit a mower or weedwhacker in there to take care of the grass?

We'll just have to see. The fence isn't high priority until the spud starts walking. Although I'm sure the dog would like it...

Our toy-containment system...

Got to go back to Memphis for the weekend, to attend the graduation of this year's seniors (whom I taught three years ago as freshmen). While we were there, a lot of people asked if we missed Memphis.

There were things ASSOCIATED with Memphis that we did miss. We got to see our kayaking buddies, and we had certainly missed them. We haven't had a chance to go paddling since we moved here, and we haven't met any kayakers yet. Since I'm not going to be able to kayak this season (being pregnant kinda cuts down on the activities one can participate in), so it looks like my husband won't have much opportunity either, since a kayaker shouldn't paddle alone. It isn't just the kayaking itself, but the fellowship associated with it that we really miss. It was great to join the group for one last night, trading stories, laughing, and just generally belonging to something. That is something that we just haven't found here yet.

We also got to visit our former places of employment and chat with our former coworkers. I know my husband, while he certainly does not miss the management and bureaucracy of his company, did really enjoy talking to his friends and commiserating with them about the state of the company these days. Everyone said they were glad that he got out when he did (many of them have been given severance and are just working there on deals with the company to remain for a certain length of time). While he might not have gotten laid off, he might have been asked to move to Florida, where their headquarters are. That was something we didn't want to do.

I was very happy to go visit the school and see my teacher friends and my former students. Everyone was happy to see me, and they all said they missed me. That is something I haven't found yet in Billings. While I've gotten to meet a few teachers in some of the schools in the area (and even went for coffee with one of them), and I've had a few students who now recognize me when I go to a school and seem pleased to see me, I just haven't got a place where I belong yet. I look forward to a chance to have my own classroom with my own stuff, and my own kids, and coworkers than I can get to know. As I stood in the halls of my former school, some students and coworkers walked past me at first, then suddenly realized I was there (there was some squealing from students), because they said it just seemed so normal to see me in the hallways. I really miss that, having a place of employment where I so obviously fit in. I know I will find a place eventually (probably not this coming school year but the next), but that was surely something I have missed.

We also ate at some of our favorite restaurants. We've got good restaurants here in Billings, but we are missing good cheese fries (which we got at Huey's burger place) and really good barbecue (which we got at The BBQ Shop--ribs--and at world-famous Corky's--pulled pork and the best potato salad EVER). Just some regional items that we couldn't expect to find elsewhere.

But as much as we missed our friends/coworkers/paddling buddies and our restaurants, there were an awful lot of things we DIDN'T miss. We got off the plane at midnight on Wednesday, stepped down onto the tarmac, and immediately wilted from the heat and humidity. We endured a couple of wicked nasty thunderstorms with tornado watches associated with them. We have yet to have a weather issue here in Billings that might be associated with potential DEATH. As we drove around Memphis, we witnessed a driver on the interstate cut across five full lanes of traffic rather abruptly with no signaling to reach an offramp. We drove through massive traffic, everywhere we went. We paid *gasp* SALES TAX. We had to lock the doors of the car no matter where we left it (it was a nice Cadillac CTS). There was an evening in Billings we went to a restaurant, and my husband leaned back out the door to make sure he had "honked" the car locks. A guy sitting and waiting in the restaurant laughed and said, "You locked it? Heck, you could leave the keys in it around here!" We left our garage door open accidentally one day, for an entire day, and nothing at all was missing when we returned in the evening. That sort of thing just doesn't happen in the South. Heck, our crappy car was stolen three different times while we lived in Memphis, just in a three-year span of time!

So, while we were very glad to see all our friends, there just wasn't enough in Memphis to keep us there. We were both glad to leave on Sunday morning, and very glad to get home on Sunday afternoon. I hope some of our friends will come visit us soon, because otherwise we probably won't get to see them again for a long time, since I won't be much for traveling and we don't have a lot of reason to return any time soon. Maybe for next year's graduation...

The neighborhood is starting to come alive, after a long winter. We were the last people to move into the neighborhood last fall. Once winter rolled in, everything stagnated. There were between 10 and 15 houses for sale (either through realtors or through the owners) that sat empty all winter. Likewise, there were two houses that were partially built that sat lonely and somewhat haunted through the cold nights. And there were about 15 empty lots, full of snow, mud, and the occasional tumbleweed.

But finally, the snows have melted, the temperatures have climbed (to the 50's, whoo!), and movement has appeared in the neighborhood. It appears at least three of the houses that were for sale all winter long have been sold and occupied. The two unfinished houses have been completed. Ground has been broken (and in two cases framing has already been completed) on three of the empty lots. And in one area in the neighborhood that has just been a big empty field, underground electrical wiring has been laid and it seems that a road may be paved before too long. Not sure if these will be houses in the field, or perhaps commercial properties (man, if we could get a grocery store up here, that would be awesome), but it is progress, and it is welcome.

There are many dichotomies into which the human population can be divided. Dog people and cat people, chocolate and vanilla, morning people and sane people. But one division I have come to know very well in my 10 1/2 years of marriage is this: snooze-button people vs. non-snooze-button people.

I am a non-snooze-button person. Not that I have anything really against the idea of the snooze button; I've just never used it. As a kid my alarm clock didn't even have a snooze button. It was one of those old square analog clocks with the extra hand you set on the time you want the alarm to get up. Then you pull the stem on the back of the clock, and when it reaches the time you set, the alarm goes off. To turn it off, just push the stem back in. My alarm clock was also all the way across my bedroom (I didn't want it beside my bed because I could hear the clock humming and it kept me awake)so I had to get up and walk across my room to shut the clock off. By that point, I was fully awake, and there was no sense in resetting the alarm at that point and going back to sleep. When I got older, I got a similar alarm clock, but it did have a snooze button across the top. However, in all the time I owned the clock, I never did use it. In college, I actually got hypnotized as a freshman, and one of the "commands" I was given (according to one of my best friends) was that I would always wake up when my alarm went off. While I can't say for sure it's because of this command, I can say for sure that I have never in my life slept through my alarm. So a snooze button doesn't do me any good. I do wake up right away (sometimes I actually wake up about a minute before the alarm goes off; I think the tone of the clock, even though it is digital, changes and I can hear it). I cannot go back to sleep in the nine minutes in between alarms, so the snooze button really doesn't serve any purpose for me. I would rather sleep soundly until the very last possible minute, and then get up.

My husband is a snooze-button guy. I don't know his personal history with snooze buttons; all I know is he uses it several times each morning, depending on how tired he is. Generally, the snooze button is hit twice each morning; by the third alarm, my husband is awake enough to roll out of bed. If he's really tired, the snooze button might get hit a third time, but he doesn't have a lot of extra time built into his morning, so he can't tarry in bed forever. We've never really discussed his use of the snooze button. I assume, since he is not a morning person and often does not sleep well at night, that he needs a couple of trial alarms before he finally commits to one. He probably just wakes up a little more each time, until he's finally awake enough to start his day. So, he really gets up out of bed about 20-30 minutes after the first alarm goes off.

Despite what you might think, the snooze-button issue has never been a hot-button (ha, see what I did there) topic in our marriage. For most of our marriage, I have been the one who gets up first in the mornings. With two alarm clocks, one on either side of the bed, and both alarm clocks with the capability to set two separate alarm times, we were able to control our own morning destinies. I would get up early, no snooze button needed, and walk the dog, eat breakfast, go to the gym, and head out to work. My husband, on the other hand, would hit the snooze button a few times, then get up and get on his way, quite a bit later than I had. I can't say how many times he would hit snooze, since I wasn't present, but I know that he did.

Now, if I didn't have to work, like in the summers, the snooze button would come into play in my life. But it still wasn't a problem. I would just snuggle up with my husband while he snoozed, before he would have to get up and head out to work. If I was really tired, I would walk the dog and then go back to bed after he left for work. Most of the time, I would just get up at the same time he did and start my day.

Since we have moved, however, the snooze-button has played a larger part in my life. Our second alarm clock is in our guest bedroom. This leaves one alarm clock in our bedroom, and it's on my side of the bed. If I have a subbing gig, I get up about half an hour before my husband's first alarm ever goes off, no snooze used for me. If I don't have to sub, I am now the keeper of the snooze button for my husband. I wake up, and hit the snooze alarm. I still don't fall back to sleep after the initial alarm; I generally just lay there with my eyes closed. When my husband seems a little more awake, usually after the second alarm, I will snuggle up next to him. But often, after the snooze is hit the second time, I'll get up and walk the dog, leaving my husband on the wrong side of the bed from the alarm clock and having to deal with his own snooze. I have no idea how many times he hits the snooze button after I get up; when I come back from the walk he's up and in the shower, typically.

It's this recent snooze-button situation that has made me ponder the snooze button in such detail. I had just never thought about it much before now, but since I'm the keeper of the snooze button, I have this pressure to perform that I've never had before.

Just a random thought for the day. Now I need a nap.

I recently discovered a really interesting blog, called Radical Parenting. It's basically parenting, from a teenager's perspective. While some posts could be just the ranting and raving of teens, complaining about the unjustness of their lives and their parents, there seem to be some valid points brought up in many of the topics that are discussed.

One of the most interesting ones I read was called "What Kind of Kid Do You Have?". The article discusses the four kinds of kids that exist in this millennial, highly electronic era. I've seen all four of these kinds of kids, and it was really enlightening to hear the teen's perspective on the effects of parenting on their coping skills.

The first type of kid is called "The Teacup", owing to their emotional fragility. These kids were treated as overly delicate by their parents. The parents worried so much about their physical and emotional health and well being that the kids were not allowed to go out and experience the variety of human emotions necessary to development. This is especially true of FAILURE. The parents prevented them from failing, one way or another, so now that the kids are growing into adults they do not have the ability to cope with everyday pressures and problems. The kids can't handle criticism and fall apart easily under even minor adversity. I saw a lot of these kids in the private school environment where I used to work. It was a small school, and special care was taken with many of the kids to ensure the most positive experience possible, in some cases to the detriment of the child. EVERYONE will fail at something in life; if a child is never exposed to failure while growing up, he or she will be completely incapable of coping with failure as an adult. What we're left with is either a person who utterly fears any kind of change or challenge, or worse, a person who completely gives up at life and barricades himself or herself inside (literally or figuratively).

The next kind of kid is "The Toastie". This is because of the "burn out" factor. These are kids who are heavily loaded with activities from a very young age, or who are heavily invested in a particular activity. I saw a lot of "Toasties" when I was coaching swimming. I had some GREAT swimmers, who really could have been successful swimming in college. Instead, they had spent so much time in the pool, and worked so hard, and sacrificed so much of their free time that they could have otherwise been spending with friends or just unwinding, that they quit swimming, in many cases right at the height of their abilities. They had missed out on so many of the fun things that come with just being a kid (unstructured time, self-driven play, just "hanging out") that they felt the need to drop the activity completely in order to preserve their sanity and stability. It's unfortunate to see talented kids get burnt out on a sport or activity that should be fun and enjoyable. While sports are common ground for "Toasties", they can be found in 4H, Boy and Girl Scouts, pretty much any activity. I worry about my nieces becoming "Toasties". They play soccer and basketball, do gymnastics, swim on the local swim team, and participate in church activities. Their days are heavily scheduled, plus they have year-round school. I'm always amazed when I hear their mom and dad outlining their schedules for the week. I was pretty lucky. While my parents encouraged me to participate in activities, I was never pushed to do so. If I didn't like a sport, I didn't have to continue it. I did not do any sports that ran concurrently (so no multi-sport seasons). I had plenty of down time to play with my friends or do what I wanted to do. And as I got older my parents helped me learn to budget my time so I had enough time to participate in the sports and activities I valued most plus still get my schoolwork done. If a kid wants to quit a sport or activity, it should be because he or she genuinely is no longer interested, not because he or she is stressed out, worn out, or burnt out.

The third type of kid is "The Turtle". This kid has never been taught to work for anything, perhaps because the parents sheltered him or her, or perhaps because he or she fell through the cracks and was passed along from one teacher/school to another without ever being held accountable for anything. These kids are allowed to be apathetic and lazy. It could be that, when the kids who need special help and the kids who are exceptionally high performing take up so much of the parents' and teachers' time, "The Turtle" just gets brushed aside as being neither too bad nor too good to merit much attention. Since they've been largely neglected or ignored, or simply left to their own devices because they were "getting by", they've never learned how to push themselves to be more successful. These are kids who will have NO idea what they want to do with their lives when they get out of high school. They may go to college, but they might not finish because they simply have never been given any kind of direction. Some of these kids are downright slackers, intentionally, because they don't care. As long as they can get by, they don't worry about ever actually being successful at anything.

The fourth kind of kid is "The Tyrant". These are the precious little shits I got SO tired of while working in a private school. In almost every case, "The Tyrant" was created by his or her parents. The parents condition the child to believe that he or she is brilliant, fabulous, talented, and just in general better and more important than everyone else. Many of these kids are pretty smart or reasonably talented, but to their parents (and more importantly to themselves) they are they most brilliant and most talented people on the planet. While they will often put a fair amount of effort into an endeavor, they expect a big payoff and massive amounts of attention and acclaim. Even if they aren't successful in something, they expect to still be recognized for the effort they have put into the activity. Many times I had students completely fair an assignment, only to tell me, "But I worked so HARD on this!!!" What these kids (and their parents) don't seem to understand is, NOBODY in the real world gives an "A" for effort. It really doesn't matter how hard you tried at something, if you didn't get it right. That sounds callous and coldhearted, especially from a teacher, but it's true. If you were living in Africa, and you tried really hard to avoid being eaten by a lion, but the lion ate you anyway, does it really matter how hard you tried? No. Now, not everyone is going to be successful at every thing, every time. Look at Thomas Edison. He failed hundreds, probably thousands of times at inventing useful creations. But he was very successful at some of his inventions. There needs to be a balance. It isn't about just putting in the effort; it's about putting in the effort to get it right.

Now, kids are not necessarily going to slide smoothly into just one of these categories. In many cases, kids will have attributes from several of the categories. A kid may be super-sheltered and fear change, but be a tyrant at the things he or she already participates in. A "Toastie" may become so burnt out that he or she just becomes a "Turtle" as a self-preservation instinct.

The big question is, how do you deal with these kids, either as your own or in a classroom? In a classroom, you are definitely limited in how you interact with these kids and what you can do to improve their outlook. When they are your own kids, you definitely need to take a look at your parenting tactics and see how you have caused these attributes and what you can do to fix them before it's too late. Every parent, and teacher, wants to see kids succeed. While there's little that can be done to fix "nature", "nurture" can go a long way to seeing the next generation become powerful, successful, and a lot less annoying.

I am surprised to find myself disappointed in HBO for messing up a series of books I am not incredibly impressed with anyway. Hmm.

I am talking about the HBO series True Blood, based on the Sookie Stackhouse novels by Charlaine Harris. I started reading the books on the recommendation of a close friend, and also on curiosity about a series containing one of my favorite subjects: vampires.

That's not to say that I am vampire-obsessed or anything like that. I'm certainly not, in Harris' terms, a fangbanger. But I've always liked vampires. I love Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, and one of my favorite movies is The Lost Boys. Vampires have been quite romanticized in popular culture over the years, for whatever reason. Tough and dangerous, yet vulnerable; I think the appeal is that a vampire seems to be the ultimate in bad boy/girl. Girls love the bad boys, right? Especially the ones who have a sensitive side. And guys love the girls who are a little bit naughty. So we have a deluge of vampires in entertainment today.

I have yet to find any vampire stories I like as much as Anne Rice's books. Charlie Huston has been the most entertaining author I've read so far, with his Joe Pitt series, kind of a cross between vampires and crime noir. I also have enjoyed the House of Night books by PC and Kristin Cast. While the stories are definitely aimed at teenagers, specifically teenage girls, there is a depth to the stories and an inclusion of various mythologies and legends that adds a lot more interest to the series. I did read the Twilight books by Stephanie Meyer, although I really wasn't impressed. The stories are VERY "13-year-old-girl-ish", meaning all the cliches about romance, relationships, teenage perceptions, and vampires are all present in abundance. I mean, who else would appreciate that vampires, classically believed to be dangerous blood-sucking fiends, are also *sparkly*? Yikes.

Anyway, I started reading the Sookie Stackhouse books because one of my best friends swears by them as her one naughty little indulgence. The stories are pretty interesting, for the most part. The main character, Sookie, is a telepathic human. She is looked at as a weirdo by the other humans she's around. Being different, she ends up finding herself much more at home around "supes", that is, supernatural beings, such as vampires, Werewolves, shapeshifters, witches, fairies, and demons. There are always some interesting mysteries in each story, involving Sookie, her brother, her friends, and her relationships with the supes. While the subject matter is pretty good, the writing style is pretty vanilla. The big draw, at least for my friend (a single mother), is the sex. Harris throws in some naughty little scenes to appeal to her target audience, probably middle-aged women who need a little naughtiness in their lives. Anyway, there is enough sex in the books to have caught the attention of HBO executives, who are known for providing naughtiness for millions of cable subscribers.

So HBO took the Sookie Stackhouse novels and adapted them into a series called True Blood, named after a brand of synthetic blood the vampires drink in the novels. Anna Paquin (for me eternally Rogue in the X-Men movies) plays Sookie. And I have to say, bless her heart, she just isn't a very good actress. Her Southern accent doesn't impress me, and she spends a lot of time staring round-eyed at the other characters and looking confused. The other actors and actresses who play the other characters aren't much better. And none of them look quite as I had pictured in my head (I hate that). Plus, they made some changes to the original storylines, which I'm sure seemed like a good idea to the HBO people, and probably made filming a little easier, but it bothers me when the events I expect get changed. And most annoying of all, they felt it necessary, as with every HBO series, to ramp up the sex. I really don't need or appreciate graphic sex scenes, but HBO put them in every episode. Meh.

I'll probably finish out the series, or at least the season, mostly because I hate starting a series and not finishing it. But I'm pretty disappointed. At least I have real TV shows like 24 and Heroes to keep my entertained.

I think I'm a little envious of my sister-in-law's neighborhood.

Not that I would be willing to move to where she lives, mind you. I'm not willing to trade the climate and the crime rate for a place where all the neighbors know each other.

But I am a little jealous. We've been living in our house now for almost three whole months, and I have yet to meet any of our neighbors. Oh, I've seen them, sure. And I've even said hello a few times. But there hasn't been any further contact than that. And it's a little disappointing.

My sister-in-law's neighborhood is interesting. It's a development of two streets and a couple of cul-de-sacs that, while connected to the next development over, seem entirely self-contained. The only traffic in the neighborhood consists of the people who live there, so any interlopers are noted and watched with interest. I know a few things have disappeared from garages that were left open, but for a neighborhood in the suburbs of one of the highest crime rate cities in the US, they really have few problems. Also, it's the kind of neighborhood where the kids can go play in the street without a real danger that they will get hit. Traffic does not pass through the neighborhood, and the locals drive carefully.

Everyone in the neighborhood hangs out together. The guys all go golfing together, the wives all work out together. The kids all play together. During the summer, everyone sits out on their driveways. Some of the neighbors pull out portable firepits and light them up, and then everyone just wanders through the neighborhood from driveway to driveway. In some driveways, you'll find a cooler of beer. In another, you'll find bottles of wine. Some of the houses have pools, and the kids will go from pool to pool and work their way through the neighborhood. In the winter, there's still a party every week, at one house or another. The kids can trick or treat safely and stay in their neighborhood. Everyone has Christmas parties and New Year's parties. It's just kind of a fun place to live.

I have high hopes that when the weather here warms up, I'll see people sitting out in front of their houses in the evenings. I've noticed a few chairs on porches here, so there's good possibility. But I'm just a little disappointed that I haven't met any neighbors yet. Of course, I haven't done much to meet the neighbors, so I guess I am as much to blame as anyone else. Maybe I'll shovel everyone's sidewalk when we have the next snow...

Why do people believe that being honest and being tactful don't go together? How many times do you hear someone say "I don't mean to be rude, but..." or "I'm not trying to insult you, but..." right before saying something rude, insulting, and just generally offensive, regardless of how true it might be? How does prefacing your insult with an apology lighten or negate the offense?

This came to mind because I was watching a TV show and one of the characters told another that she "wasn't skinny enough to be a Playboy model". When she took offense, he told her that he was just being honest and not trying to insult her or anything. Whether or not the statement was true, the guy in question could have been much more tactful about how he approached the subject. First of all, he could have said nothing at all. That's the most tactful way to handle such a situation--just abstain from responding, or even change the subject. Or, if he just had to respond, he could have said, "You aren't skinny enough...you know, those Playboy models are so scrawny they look dead." You know, present the "truth" in a much more positive light. Instead of being told that she wasn't appealing enough to be in Playboy, the comment would make the Playboy models the unappealing ones.

It just struck me as odd that so many people think that "telling the truth" in a blunt way is the best way to converse with other people. They seem to think that if they ease up on the truth or take a kinder approach, it lessens the truthfulness. I don't understand how being aware of someone's feelings and trying to not hurt them would make the truth somehow less effective. Instead, all it seems to do is make other people less likely to ever ask you for your opinion or for "the truth".

Sorry for the lack of posts, but I've been spending a lot of time getting used to my new city and my new house (and sitting around doing as little as possible).

Anyway, one of the things I've had to get used to is living in winter weather again after eleven years. We've had several significant snowfalls, and I have already learned several things about my new environment: it's much windier here than I had expected, and my neighbors do not shovel their sidewalks. Both of these elements impact my morning doggie walks. When the snow is powdery, it isn't that much trouble for me to walk through it, but for my poor dog, only 16 inches high at the shoulder, 8 inches of snow is a pretty major obstacle. But then, when the wind blows, the snow blows into deeper drifts AND ices over. This creates a new problem. I struggle to trudge through the drifts, and the dog tries to walk over them. That only works if the crust is thick; otherwise, the dog plunges through and has to bound out of the drift. Also, neither of us enjoys having the wind blowing in our faces during our outings. It would be a lot nicer if the neighbors would just shovel the sidewalks. Oh well.

Most of the time, it's just a gentle breeze, but we've had a number of days with +25 mph winds. Guess I need to plant some fast-growing trees in my front yard to create a wind break. And fence the back yard so I don't have to go on so many walks.