softened over the years

I know there are many things that people grow hardened to over the years - television, news, games, doctors of traumas, teachers of students, the fear new moms experience, and so on.  It's a survival mechanism - because to feel, to feel things deeply, always, can be debilitating.  

But, I think I'm the opposite.  I was built in reverse.

When I started out driving ambulance - I took care of and assisted the injured or ill.  I hated the ambulance jokes people made - people, in their misery, still make me want to cry.
Or gag.
It didn't bother me in the beginning.  But by the end of my 5 year stint there were times I carried a barf tray along with the patient.
I took empathy to whole new level.

Teaching - when I began, I was stoic.  I barely showed a reaction.  I felt a great deal, but I iced myself out from the students.  I kept an emotional distance in a sense.  I'm not sure why.  And as the years go on, I'm getting better at seeing individuals.  And I see enough, to know I hardly see anything.

Even as a mother - my first opened my eyes to so many experiences.  My third has only made me cherish these moments more.  I am more sensitive.

I never dreamed of being married or having children.  They were ideas I assumed I would experience - and since I have, it's like the dream was awakened and grows every year.  I sigh when I see wedding dresses and babies.

This is the way I'd prefer to keep it, softer, not hardened.

okay fine, I'm back

I live many lives today.  But I'll only relive the one before bed.

I had FaceTime on and had set my iPad up so my parents could watch and talk to Tuana.  Tuana was in quite the mood, chatting to them, showing them things, giggling and seemingly alternating between playing and being coy.

She had pulled my hand and led me over to the cabinet, pointing at the play-dough.  I pulled the box down and she was busy.  She soon brought the canister over to me, saying, "Help."  She knows that word well.  As do I - and so I immediately understood and opened it up for her.

I went to get the shower ready for Teoman and Tomris, and Tuana called after me.  "Mama!"  She came and found me, took my hand, and led me back to the table - pointing to the chair I had been sitting in - directing me to join her once again.

I smiled, and paused for only a moment before running away to finish getting the kids in the shower and grab a broom for the kitchen.  Tuana was squawking after me.  I sat down and we cleaned it up together and she handed me the box.

I don't know where she got this in her head, but she went over to the freezer next, found the ice cream, and said to me, "Die deem!"
"No sweetheart-"
(scream)
"-you already had a treat."
(Scream.  fight with door.)  I left her to her tantrum and came back.  She was not giving up on the ice cream.  I repeated it to her several times, and she just got madder.

I gave in.  I gave in because I figure she's still too young to know what she's doing, and she's too tired or frustrated with language to express it.  I put some in a bowl for her.  She was sitting at the table and I gave her the bowl and she threw it.  The chair wasn't right, the table wasn't right, the bowl and the ice cream weren't quite right.  She pushed her chair down.

Nuclear meltdown.

Tuana is 19 months old and when she gets mad, we all know.  And when she loses it, she has a hard time recovering.  I don't know why, I'm not sure the trigger ... but I know the feeling because I'm afraid sometimes that I too never developed emotionally beyond, apparently, a 19 month old - because I'm pretty sure I had a similar tantrum today.

sigh.

The end

My blogging days are done.

saturday

I went to bed early.  I was exhausted.  School has started and everyday I'm feeling stressed exhausted.  Work is hanging over me.  Work and frustration.  And then there's my kids.  Needing my full attention - and I can't do my work.  Nor can I escape my house to do it.  Nor do I want to.  So I delay. I resent my work.  And I get frustrated with my kids.  They seemed to fight all morning.  We made french toast, then I packed us all into the car with a stroller, skateboard, and bike.  We went to the park and played for couple of hours but the fighting, crying continued.
Are they as tired as me?
We went home and Tuana slept.  Teoman and Tomris played quietly some but it took HOURS for them to cleanup - I had promised them cookies, but there was no butter.  I offered popcorn as back up - but went to he cupboards and found the popcorn all gone.  Every. Last. Kernel. That's living with Gokhan.  I've nicknamed him The Finisher, because that's what he does.  Finishes things and doesn't replace them because "I forgot."  He lived by himself most of the summer and put on at least 20 pounds with all that freedom he had - with no one to hold him accountable, no one to answer to, no one's health to look after - he was free.  But freedom to Gokhan meant fried eggs in butter with potatoes, french fries, popcorn, and sunflower seeds.  Butter and salt.

I'm the quasi-leader

B sits through these meetings looking mildly annoyed.
That was the comment from my British colleague and I thought it was an understatement.  I had stayed up late preparing for the meeting with my team today - hoping to lay out what we were doing over the next week-and-a-half.  

First we went over the exam to finalize.  Tim and Tatiana seemed like they had no idea what was going on.  B had her head in her computer doing something else.  At one point I said,
"I need someone to answer me, give a response, nod a head, agree or disagree."
Young Brooke stepped in.  She worked with us last year and seems to be on top of things.

We ended the meeting barely getting through the exam, and I still had four more things on the agenda.  Everyone left and B said "we didn't talk about my spreadsheet."
We didn't talk about a lot of things.
B's spreadsheet is five linked pages with 8 major grades that have tabs to those each link of smaller grades that feed into it.  There are spaces to fill in over a hundred marks - and they will be individual and have to be searched for because our reading groups are mixed classes.  Her spreadsheet is horrifying.
"Um.. I was hoping we could lessen the number of marks to like, four.  One a week for the first unit."
"Then I will have to change EVERYTHING I planned."
"Yes, I noticed you put some things on the Drive, they were amazing - is this what you're planning on doing."
"Yes, with my group, because I have the higher group.  You might do something different with your group."

Like only four marks rather than a kajillion.  The woman is crazy and pulling me into her crazy.  I am supposed to be running this side show, but it was her baby, and she is running the whole middle school English program now ... but she seems to have plans in place for us already.   Which, I wouldn't mind - but the whole reason I stepped in was to avoid this "secret or surprise" methodology of hers.  Surprise!  I plan on giving a hundred marks this semester.

I'm so ready to quit

Another First Day

It was the kids first day of school today.  Teoman was up at 5:50am and dressed.  He woke up Tomris, and by 6:45 they had their backpacks on and were ready to go.  Tuana did too.  We went downstairs and waited for abla to arrive.  Zuleyha came and the kids all got in Tolga's truck.  Even Tuana - so when Tolga handed her back through the window, Tuana was shocked, and then cried.
We never leave her behind - it made me wish we had a fourth child so she wouldn't be alone.

Tolga brought Tomris up to the pre-school, I brought Teoman down to the kindergarten.  They were starting at the same time.  All the parents and eager children.  Teoman and Tomris were excited enough that they didn't have any panic attacks or crying fits - in fact, Tomris, who I was a little worried about happened to be in class with a new friend we made at the end of last year, Ruth.  An American family that has lived here for years.

Tolga left to the field from there.  I went to teach my classes.  I taught reading class, did some paperwork and then I was already back up to the pre-school then kindergarten picking up my kids and blisters on my toes from all the walking.  They have half-days scheduled today and tomorrow so I had planned to keep them with me.  It would have taken me at least an hour to drive them home and get back, and I had this idea that I might get work done.

I can't get any work done with my kids around.  I can't do both these days, be a good mom and a teacher.  If feels like either/or.

But they had a good day.  They were excited, and they liked hanging out with me and each other.  They wondered in the front of the room distracting my students while I tried to teach.

Tomris fell asleep in the car ride home.  I stayed up late to prepare for a meeting the next day.

First Day

I can't say I love the the first day.

I spent a lot of the day shirking my responsibilities of talking about Learner Profiles and doing ice-breakers to straighten out our reading group lists with the registrar.  With last minutes changes is students coming and going I had to shuffle a few students - a still stubbornly didn't change the one student whose mother wanted her to change.

By the end of the day I had a headache.  By after dinner, I had a migraine.

Way too much excitement for the day.