Movin on

Hey all!
Just an FYI that I'm a-movin over to a bigger, faster, stronger spot to blog. Please come with as I head back into the world of blogging, but with a prettier site.
Don't walk, run.....
Www.onethingihavelearnedthehardway.wordpress.com.
Give me a minute to get things moving again and you won't be disappointed. Or maybe you will be. It's not like I'm twisting your arm to read my stuff or anything :)
Hope to see you soon.
Cari

Wedding anniversary

Dear -,
There are so many things that I wish I could tell you.  I wish I could tell you that today, 8 years ago, which was our wedding day, meant a lot to me.  It still does, really.  It signifies everything that I value, and everything that I did wrong.  It signifies how seriously I took things that you did not.  It makes me question who I am, especially in this new relationship that is starting to bloom.  It reminds me what a failure I was.

It also reminds me what hope I had.  How able I am to commit completely and fearlessly to someone and not look back.  It reminds me of all the people that showed up that day, who love me.  It reminds me of white calla lilies and the way that you smelled after a shower.  It reminds me of holding your hand and how that always made things better.

I am so glad that you have moved on, and found someone that is a better match for you.  I am so glad that we made the choice to honor what our marriage was by ending it when it got bad. 
I am so glad to have met you, and learned what qualities I needed to have in a mate to survive.

Someone once told me that a soulmate is not someone who is in your life forever.  A soulmate, rather, is someone that holds a mirror, and helps you to grow.  The intensity of that type of relationship is too great to withstand a lifetime.  They usually burnt out.

So, good-bye again.  I will see you, in my mind, again next year on our anniversary date. 

Peace.

Raising my Standards

Allright.  I think I am on a roll here.  I have something else I have been thinking about, and it pertains to dating.  I am raising my standards.  Since my divorce people have been telling me to virtually give everyone a chance, you never know.  Bullshit.  I have been doing that and it's not working.  I have been flexible (don't have a job, That's okay.....live with your parents, it's all good....sleeping on your ex-wife's couch....he is doing it for the children...).  This is crap.  Because I think that it is possible that I am sending out to the universe, well, just send me whoever.  At this point, anyone is fair game.  Chico is a pretty small place, and I know that there is probably a bigger pool of eligible quality men in a bigger city, but please.  There have got to be more than what is being offered to me.  So here is the deal.  And believe me when I say this is an experiment because maybe I am wrong and I really am getting a good representation of what is out there...but I am done.  I am from now on, only looking at, dating, sleeping with, men that meet every criteria on my list.  You have a face piercing?  Sorry.  Went back to school and have no income?  Not happenin.  Smoke?  Nope.  Eat only Big Macs then complain about being tired all the time?  Not a chance.  I could go on, but I am sure you get my drift. 

But.  There is another piece to this.  And that is, I have to make sure that I am presenting myself as the ultimate package also.  To score an awesome man with all that I want, well, I gotta be all that this guy would want too.  I suspect that the good men are having a hard time with the women available around here as well.  And to me, this means one thing:  lose the extra weight.  I already have the great job, independence, great home, and charming personality (dont laugh) part down.  But I got about 50 extra lbs that is keeping me from Mr. Right and continuing to keep me dating Mr. Well-kind-of-if-he-got-a-haircut.   Without the 50 extra lbs I am carrying around I would be much closer to the complete package, and maybe start feeling like I have a chance with Dr. McDreamy or someone equally as sexy/cool.  Or maybe, after all, I still will have to move.  At least I will be skinnier when I do it:).

Generativity vs. Stagnation

Is has been awhile since I have written.  I apologize.  I did not have much to say.  Now I do.  For those of you who know me fairly well, you probably know that my grandfather fell, broke a hip, and is in the hospital.  You also may know that I was the only family member in town other than my grandmother available to help deal with this situation.  I am in my last week of vacation from school and so fortunately I had time to spend with grandma, at the hospital, helping.  I don't regret a minute of it.  Grandpa had surgery on Tuesday to replace the ball joint that holds the hip in the socket.  His surgeon, whom I have nicknamed Dr. McDreamy, was freaking gorgeous AND the nicest man on the planet.  That's a completely different blog entry though.

Anyway, grandpa is not really recovering very well from surgery.  He is 87 years old and has been sitting in a chair, not using his body or his mind in any way at all for the past ten years.  If you don't use it, you lose it.  If this sounds judgemental, its not.  It has been a huge eye-opening experience for me.  Because now it is too late for him to get his body in the kind of physical and mental shape that can handle this kind of major surgery.  But 10 years ago, when, according to Erickson's stages of development, he decided to become stagnant rather than move forward, it was not too late.  Was it a conscious decision?  Of course not.  You know better, you do better, and honestly I do not think he knew.  But I do know better.  That's the thing.  I know how important it is now to exercise and take care of my body.  I know how important it is to continue to learn new things in order to keep my mind in tip top shape.  Every minute I sit in my Forever Lazy on the couch watching television instead of doing the things that I need to do to be healthy, I am making a choice, the same one grandpa made.  But I know better.

Peace out.

Gravy

I finally figured it out.  The reason Thanksgiving and Thanksgiving leftovers are such a big freaking deal to me.  Gravy.  Vegetarian, of course.  I only make this gravy once a year.  Maybe twice if you are lucky.  I put it on everything.  Mashed Potatoes, stuffing, corn pudding, rolls, green beans...everything.   I'm even okay with it creeping into my pecan pie.  Try it.  You won't go back to regular gravy.  Well maybe you will.  But try it anyway.

Vegetarian Thanksgiving Gravy
Melt 2 tbsp butter in a sauce pan.  When it is completely melted, add 2 tbsp flour.  Cook till browned and thick.  Add 1 1/2 cups veggie broth.  As it starts to thicken add 1 tbsp creamy peanut butter, about 1/2 tsp soy sauce and a couple dashes of cayenne pepper.  Taste for flavor and add more cayenne, or PB as needed.  Since I am the only veggie in the family, I have enough for about 4 meals plus lots of tastes as it cooks.  ENJOY!

In case of Emergency

On Tuesday I got a text from R.  R is the guy that I tried to have a relationship with during summer and spilling into fall.  The single father that just didn't have enough extra to give after his life as a paramedic with 3 small children.  We had not talked in weeks, after we had both stated how much we missed each other. 

The text said "please help.  I have strep throat and 102 degree temp.  I can't get out of bed to get water".   I went over there, got him water, medicine, a cold washcloth and sat holding his hand until he fell asleep.  Somehow, during our on again, off again relationship, I had become his "in case of emergency" person.  The person he contacted when he really needed help.  This feels good.  Our relationship did not work, and we agreed after this last round that we would not try again.  But we will be friends.  We still are important to each other.  And I feel honored to hold the "in case of emergency" spot in his crazy life.

Just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I'm lost

You ever have a week that causes you to have to muster up every bit of strength and courage, strength you did not even know you possessed?  I had one of those weeks.  The worst possible thing that can happen to a teacher happened to me this week.  Allegations.  Child abuse allegations against me.  Fuck.

On Monday a grandparent that was already feeling unsettled about her grandchild's education, (in reality I think the child being removed from her custody and back into custody of parent that had lost custody originally due to abuse was probably more of the issue) showed up in my classroom unannounced.  Her grandson was belted into a wooden chair when she showed up.  This sounds bad.  Let me explain.  Rifton Compass chairs are wooden chairs with a contoured seat and curved arms and are incredibly comfortable.  I have 2 in my classroom.  One has a seatbelt on it and sometimes the kids like to sit in it.  This particular child has clearly sat in this kind of chair in his preschool setting because he buckles himself in.  Sometimes he can unbuckle it, sometimes he needs help.  We always help him if he wants out.

In her mind, her grandson was being restrained.  Thursday, which was also the day of our big Thanksgiving feast that we put on every year for the kids, I had an emergency meeting to discuss this.  At 10:30.  The other teacher that had planned the feast, AND invited all the parents of her class, conveniently took the week off, leaving it all to fall on my narrow shoulders.  We expected to feed over 50 people at noon.

At the meeting, my principal, assistant superintendent, occupational therapist, and I tried to explain the chair to this woman, whom, it became very clear at that point, was more than a little nuts.  She bashed me, my program, my teaching style, everything that I pride myself at being good at.  Inside I felt beaten, emotionally raw, and ready to crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head, and never return to the classroom again.  On the outside, however, I triumphed.  I remained calm and professional.  I did not argue.  I listened.  I expressed to her that I honored her opinion.  I told her what would change.  I never admitted doing anything wrong.  I fucking smiled, for God's sake.  The meeting lasted up until 5 minutes before my feast.  By that time, she was stating what a great teacher I was and we had agreed to try this again, minus the seatbelt. 

When I arrived, late to my classroom, the amazing women that work as teachers aides in my classroom, and the classroom next door, plus my speech therapist, secretary and school psychologist had the feast in full swing.  The kids were excited, and all ran to me, telling me how much they missed me, hugging me, and I felt incredibly blessed to have this job.  And the first time I cried about this horrific experience is now, as I write this.  All I can say is that a lot of people had my back that day.  At the risk of sounding like I am prostalyzing, God works in mysterious ways.