Because my parking spot was taken.

I blew my top. I blew my horn.  I got out of the car and yelled at the empty street. I got into the car and sat there fuming. I used choice vocabulary.  All because of a parking space, you ask?  What the hell?

It was an emotional reaction, so there’s part of me that wants to say, hey look, I can’t really explain it.  I was just mad. Really mad.  I can tell you the rationalizations that I have for expressing so much rage.

It’s fairly simple to rationalize this reaction.  You have to know something about my geographic location:  I’m live in a neighborhood in the city of Philadelphia, in which day after day, our particular streets are usually pretty empty and there’s ample parking. This is not true of many neighborhoods in my city, but it is true here. Usually, if someone is in “my spot” I just park a few feet down from there.  However, it’s February, and our street is still extremely cluttered with a foot of snow that fell several weeks ago.  There are two spots on my side street, which are clear of snow, and which are MY SPOTS because I spent several hours clearing them.  Shoveling heavy snow and ice to make it possible to park there.

The custom around these parts is not to park in people’s spots. It’s just considered bad manners.  People will put out chairs, or other obstacles to make this clear, most of the time.  I had recycling bins out to mark our spots.  It turns out that my husband hadn’t put them on the street, however, when he had gone to work, so someone had parked a big pickup truck right in the middle of my hard-earned parking places.

What particularly made me angry was the fact that a driver of such a large, rugged truck with its large, rugged wheels really should not have had much trouble parking on the un-claimed, poorly cleared, icy areas on the other side of the main street.  He or she did not need to park on my clear, dry, parking spots. Yes, spots. For this truck had not only taken up ONE space, no indeed. He or she had parked in such a way as to block BOTH of them. It made me unreasonably angry.

I had my tantrum in front of my two girls. My girls rarely see me angry.  Sure, there’s the occasional spat with my husband.  Or I get peeved about politics or other idiocy. But they hardly ever see an example of my on a full-on, furious, demon-like rampage.  I was beyond agitated. I was loud, and outrageous. I wrote a nasty note, which my seven year old read over my shoulder.  She commented that she wouldn’t say the note out loud as it evidently contained a word which she’s not supposed to know, let alone use.

Smart kid.

But now, it’s quite a few days since my tantrum, and I’m thinking it all over, trying to see what part of the human condition is illuminated by all that noise and bluster. I simply didn’t need to make such a big deal over having to park somewhere else. There was another place to park, after all, even though it was trickier, further from home and covered with a dangerous, slippery, pile of ice.  But I did, because I just felt like I had to, express that rage.

I’ve gone through a range of emotions while processing my own “bad” behavior.   I was self-righteous at first, because I am a hard worker and I shouldn’t have had to work for some jerk to take away my hard-earned prize. I was embarrassed, after a bit, because of making such a fuss.  But now I’ve come to the new rationalization, that I did myself some good that evening.  I let myself and my kids know that when I feel, really feel mad, that I can express that emotion.

I can let it out, and then let it go. Let it out, people.  And then let it go.  That’s is the moral of this blog post.

I know there’s a lot of work to be done, but I’m feeling so much better thanks to summer being here. There’s still some big challenges ahead but I feel like I can face them.

I seriously have to wonder if I should continue my teaching job. On the one hand, I do enjoy it. On the other, it sure did give me a lot of stress this year. Annoyingly, even though my performance was evaluated by the community, I STILL have not received an evaluation from Personnel. I did hear from them verbally (”You have nothing to worry about…”); nevertheless, I feel really annoyed that I haven’t been given my evaluation letter or any official feedback.

If they weren’t going to take my evaluation seriously, what did I need to have so much stress and anxiety about?

And sadly, it really all boils down to one family. One cuckoo family can have such a horribly big negative impact on my psyche? That seems really unfair. If not for this one family, this one child’s problematic behavior, would I have spent the last month of school feeling like a mental patient?

The relief I feel is truly tangible. But what about next year? I can’t help but ask myself… is that kid coming back next year? Rumor has it that he might not. Of course, there’s always conflict, in any job. Could be anyone, any kid– and I have to be strong enough to handle it.

If this was trial by fire, then the question is whether I am now forged by fire, or just burnt out? I will think about this, more.

Apparently they like petunia blossoms, as well as little baby sunflower plants. The “sonic spike” which buzzes every 30 seconds apparently has no effect on bunnies. Well, it was worth a try. I think I might have to go with a hot pepper spray on the ornamentals to deter bunnies. I’ve also started to add a layer of chicken wire around the fence, in hopes of closing up the holes a bit more, making it more challenging for the little critters to enter the garden.

I’d LOVE to be able to just go and do more garden work, but the club where my community garden is located is not yet open full time. It is only open on the weekends until June 22, or thereabouts. So far, I’ve put in 3 varieties of tomatoes (Early Girl, Roma, Yellow Pear), four varieties of basil, three peppers, cucumbers (seeds just sprouted!), sunflowers, petunias, marigolds, cauliflower, watermelon (seeds), green beans, yellow wax beans, and swiss chard (seeds). I’ve filled about two thirds of the space!

I also have eggplant and okra which I’d like to grow, as well as cantaloupe. I also want to add nasturtiums, but don’t have any plants or seeds as of yet. I read that nasturtiums are good for protecting / helping melons. I would really, really, really like to see my melons succeed this year – both cantaloupes and watermelon. As I recall, the bunnies are pretty fond of watermelon vines as well as the tender petunia flowers that they gobbled up so far.

My mind could get full just on garden thoughts alone.

Yet there’s so much more going on in my brain right now. There’s tax issues to be resolved with the city (again?!?). There’s summer camp, which I’m running for two weeks, (one week from now, yikes!). There’s shopping to be done for Carla’s horseback riding camp (she needs some low boots.) There’s the never ending housework — and the house currently is a real wreck. UGH!

There’s so much, I’m overwhelmed. I do wish it was just time to think about the garden and nothing else. There’s also the yard and the hedges, and the gardens at home which need attention. I’d happily give it to them, too, but for the other house work which needs doing.

I also have to get a large amount of book-keeping, billing, and bill paying done for the small biz that I am putatively running. You can’t pay bills if you don’t send out the billing, and you can’t send out the billing if you don’t enter the book-keeping information. And you can’t keep track of bills if you don’t enter the expenses into the computer! ARGH!

Nasturtiums. I need nasturtiums.

Now, I know, and you know, that driver’s license photos are always unflattering, right? But PennDOT is kind and wise, or maybe just kinda wise. They let you see your photo before it is printed on your license. You can do it over if you don’t like it. As much as you want.

My first try was awful. I’d tried to smile, and it just looked like gas, or something, and WHOAH, HELLO DOUBLE CHIN! Yikes! I asked her to do it over.

The second try was better, but also looked bizarre. Who is that crazy lady, was my first thought. Then I remembered, oh yeah, that’s me. The smile was kind of rictus-looking, but the chins were a little less obvious. The hair looked okay for a crazy lady.

On the other hand, a few nights ago I went out to a party* with Drob, and I got all dressed up. I even put body makeup on my boobages. Glittery boobages! I borrowed a swanky sexy red dress and did my hair and put on makeup. I can’t believe there are people who actually do that every day! Ok, not the dress, but the rest of it. Everyone told me I looked great (hot, beautiful, pretty, awesome, etc.) That was nice. Should have gotten my driver’s license photo done that night. Of course, that isn’t possible, and there’s something wrong about getting your driver’s license photo taken when you are stumbling around, having had too many mojito’s.

Still, and anyway, it’s good to know that I can clean up nice from time to time. I had the worst headache ever the next morning, but I don’t regret it at all. It’s not like I made out with random strangers and puked on my shoes. THAT would be a crazy party.

*Fundraiser for school! Does that count? Yes, it does, because I got kinda drunk and danced around in a distinctly undignified way.

Somehow, the cat we adopted in January managed to get pregnant. This is a mystery, because our two male cats are fixed, and we have been careful to keep the new cat inside. The plan was to nurse her back to health, then get her spayed. I had an appointment earlier this week, but our vet told me she was pregnant! And due in about two or three weeks!

Seems IMPOSSIBLE. I am really puzzled.

Meanwhile one of my male cats somehow injured his tail, it’s horribly mangled at the tip of it. I took him to the vet this morning; and the really bad news is that the vet thinks he will have to amputate the tip of the tail. Poor kitty! I feel just awful! How could this happen?

A part of me is saying I should get a second opinion on the pregnant cat and on the tail amputation. I mean, all this worry and what if he’s wrong? Suppose the cat is not pregnant? And we’re all hyped up over nothing? And suppose there is a way to save my other cat’s tail?

But it costs a lot of money to go the vet, and this is a vet we’ve known and trusted for a long time. So why would I doubt his opinion? I guess it’s because logic dictates that two fixed male cats can’t impregnate a female cat, no matter how much she yowls when she’s in heat. And oh boy, did she yowl and stir up a fuss. And she’s stopped being in heat, now that she’s pregnant. So I shouldn’t doubt it.

Besides, if she’s pregnant, that will be confirmed by the birth of kittens, so we could just wait and see.

I don’t like living with uncertainty. I want to know what’s coming. I am unhappy when I have to wait and see.

There are other things going on in life right now, and in no particular order, here’s a list. Not for you (we’ve already established this is a dull post, okay?) but for me. I just want to get this out there, boring or not. Things going on:

- house refinancing so appraiser coming tomorrow, must tidy up. A lot.
- there’s all this spare furniture on the front porch. Ugh. So cluttered. And with boxes of crap, too. UGH!
- there’s a mountain of laundry
- I’m hungry
- I had a cup of coffee so far today, and that’s all. It was weak. Ugh.
- There’s a house warming party tomorrow night for some of our Child-less Friends. Hanging out with them is probably going to be fun, but somehow looking forward to it is depressing me.
- Carla’s room smells bad. Perpetually. Some kitty peed in there; the carpet needs to go; plus she still is wetting the bed pretty often. So there’s a lot of bad smell. I feel horrible about that.
- It’s supposedly going to be HOT this weekend. I don’t want that. It will make all the bad smells worse, I guarantee.
- There are bills to be paid.
- I need stamps. Why should it be so freaking annoying to get some freaking stamps?
- By now, I’m REALLY hungry.
- I’m tired, too.
- What a sucky morning.
- The cat litter boxes are P.U.
- UGH. Just, UGH.

And the kids say I should make crafts with them. And go to the zoo. And. And. And.

And I have my period. And I’m out of tampons.

Oddly enough, it’s the squeakiness of my left shoe, that seems to be irking me the most. I’m not at all flustered by the play dates, only mildly disturbed by the massive pile of dishes (oh HAI, dishes, you back again?! %^?!@@#!). I’m just a little bugged by the kitty in heat who makes a lot of those little eeping and beeping noises, and who keeps stepping on my hands as I try to write this blog post. The fact that she’s a stinky little cat doesn’t bother me, and it’s rather cute the way she demands physical affection constantly.

But my shoe. UGH. My Damned Left Shoe!

You see, I’m a very weird woman, this much my friends all know (and hopefully love, for the most part). I pretty much wear the same shoes and the same (style, size) jeans every day. (I have about 8 pairs of the same damn jeans). My shoes are Dr. Martens, and I love them dearly. But OH NO!!! I have worn out the bottom of my left shoe, and it has a little hole which leads to the air pocket (Air Wairs! Yay!), and that air pocket goes Squish, Squish every time I step with it.

I hate shoe shopping. (another sign that I am not a normal woman, right?) So I usually shop online for shoes and have them shipped to me. After all, I always buy the same brand, same size, so not a big risk. But you know what??? GRRR! I can’t seem to find the right shoes for me. Even the internet is against me.

And as I walk around trying to get things done around here (and there is MUCH to do), Squish, Step, Squish, Step…. UGH. I am going nuts from this.

Watch out world, the entropy level of the Pann household has hit an all time high, and the sound of doom goes Squish.

Yesterday I actually spent about three hours working on a self-evaluation document for work. I hate how much anxiety I feel about my job. I love the job itself, especially when things go well. I’ve been doing this job for over a year now, and yet I still don’t feel relaxed at work.

Part of the problem is the work environment. I feel like I am being covertly judged by the other staff members at all times. I feel as if they don’t like what I am doing but won’t say what it is that they want me to do differently. I feel like every staff member has a different opinion, a different set of rules. Each teacher’s rules are fine for them to use, but not mine. It’s very uncomfortable, this sense that all is not right with the job.

And yet, when I sat down and wrote up my own self evaluation, I think I have been doing a very good job. If you look at the facts: kids are happy and safe. Parents — with perhaps one or two exceptions — are happy on the whole.

So what I suspect is that I am just insecure, and that other teachers are by and large NOT unhappy with my work. Again, with a notable exception. It’s crazy, but true — having one vocal critic can really undermine my sense of confidence.

I am not about to say to them that they can’t do things their way. Although I am sometimes tempted to do so. What pisses me off is that they seem to be saying that every teacher gets to have their own way of doing things, except that MY way happens to be wrong.

It’s hard to develop confidence when there is nobody helping you reinforce your decisions. When I try to find out what the rules are, I’m told that you have to make up your own. That seems really, really stupid to me, but I am game to make up my own rules if that’s what is wanted.

Except that I HAVE my own rules and certain people come along and give me a hard time because my way of doing things, my style, and my rules aren’t apparent to them.

One of these people told me recently that she doesn’t care about her evaluations because she doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her. She says she knows she’s bitchy and so what? If she’s bitchy to someone, it’s because they deserved it. Nice attitude, huh?

If I could try to cop that kind of attitude, what would it sound like? Here’s a fantasy conversation:

Bitchy Staff Member: Pann, OMG, you CAN’T let the kids DO that!
Me: Says who? I’m the teacher here. BUTT OUT!
Bitchy Staff Member: I would never allow that! This is ridiculous!
Me: Get out of my classroom, I don’t give a shit what you would allow or not allow. This is my group. Bugger off, bitch!

Hmmmm…… maybe I should try that!

Today I drove a total of 270 miles to visit my mom and return home again the same day. Actually my brother & his family were visiting my mom, too. Because my brother lives about 10 hours away, I don’t see them all that often. It was only logical that we make the drive up to visit with them.

I got to finally meet my nephew. Oh sure, I’ve met him before, but never as a Talking Person. He was always a baby or toddler on previous visits, but now he’s just the cutest little boy I have ever met. He has big blue eyes and blond hair. I complimented his parents on how adorable he is, and how much I liked his haircut. My brother thanked me, as is polite in our culture, but my sister in law mumbled something about how he needs a haircut.

My sister-in-law is a really poorly socially-adjusted misfit who is intentionally rude and dislikes me and my mom intensely. She won’t make eye contact, she won’t talk at all directly to either me or my mother. (Or my dad, when she’s visiting him, by the way.) She either says nothing, or else talks obsessively and endlessly (to my brother, not me or my mom, but in front of us) about things that are not really good conversation with anyone else. (Examples: the technical aspects of what makes a saint a saint; minor differences in various branches of Catholicism; what her brother said about some pizza he once ate; etc.)

For a long time, I just thought she was weird. Later on, I thought she just disliked me. Then I came to think she was a rude bitch. Then I thought maybe she has some kind of psychological disorder. I thought and searched and tried to figure this out. I kind of decided on Asperger’s. Now I’m thinking that really makes it sound like I think people’s with Apsbie’s are unbearable. That’s probably unfair to the people who have Asperger’s.

So here’s my internet bloggie friends question: Anyone know what untreated, unmanaged Asperger’s in adults looks like? Does this sound familiar to you? I really don’t know anyone like my sister-in-law. Frankly, that’s a good thing.

But the real question is WHY does my brother put up with her.

They’re having another baby, which we found out through Facebook (SIL is friends with my mother, apparently because my brother “made” her accept the friend request). This whole visit I could totally tell that SIL is pregnant– she is fat in that round kind of way. But NOT ONCE was this information shared directly with me, so I didn’t say anything. I’m not friends with SIL on Fb, and believe me, I am actually NOT interested in changing that fact. I can’t stand the woman. She can’t stand me either.

She still maintains that Obama was actually born in Kenya. (me: “Oh, I didn’t know Hawai’i was part of Kenya.”) She is a bitter defeated Catholic Republican Palin supporter! She makes my skin crawl for this and many, many other reasons. WHY oh WHY did my brother get involved with this whack job?

Fortunately, they do have some cool kids. I really adore my nephew. AND his adorable hair. My nieces are getting really big. Both of them have been struck by puberty– they are kind of chunky and that is probably driving them more quickly through the maturation process. We had a nice enough visit today; none of the wailing, screaming, biting or scratching kind of fighting was to be seen.

Did I mention how taken I am with my nephew!!!??? OMG what a cute kid. He’s by far the cutest of their kids. I wonder whether they are having a girl or a boy this time. Not like I could ask, since I don’t even know she’s pregnant, since THEY HAVEN’T TOLD ME YET.

Sigh. Well tonight it’s getting late and I’m tired. I have much to do tomorrow. My kids don’t know it but they are staying home in the morning. Cammy will be home, as she was let go from her job not long ago. If they want to join me at school, Cammy will bring them over. I was going to have them come with me for this marathon childcare day, but if they don’t have to, then I think that’s better. I think they deserve a day off, don’t you?

We’ve spent over $1000 on this old car so far this year– but that’s a lot less than buying a new car. Carla and Annie think we should get a hybrid. They would rather walk than pollute, but it would be even better if we could drive without polluting when we have to. I think it’s great that they have such a good grasp on this: their generation is the one that is going to be most affected by the planet’s status.

Sometimes I just feel guilty, though. I think that this may be the default setting for motherhood. Better to cheerfully grin and bear it, than be hangdog. Guilty? Yup, I sure am! I’m your mom after all! Tell it to your therapist, baby!

I remember sitting in the hospital just hours before going home, when Carla was a wee little babe on my lap. She was tiny and perfect (to my eyes) and I could see that I had my hands full. I started to think… and cry. “I’m sorry that you’ll have to go through middle school someday, baby!” I murmured to her tiny self.

Looking back, I know that was at least partially those wonderful post-partum hormones kicking in, but something larger is at play when you think of your children as they grow. After all, adoptive moms go through just as much worry and stress and guilt as any other mom. It’s the thought that your child will go through some kind of adversity, and the knowledge that though you are protecting your child as much as you can, you still will see the day when SOMETHING goes amiss.

This underarm odor thing is really normal, and I shouldn’t get worked up over it. But like any little thing, it sure is easy to be alarmed. It’s like a Check Engine light. I can tell something is up, but I don’t really know what to do. I don’t want to make a big deal about a little odor — and I don’t want her to feel like her natural body is icky. But on the other hand, I would hate for her to be teased or just uncomfortable with herself.

When she and I talked about the body odor thing, I brought it up as follows:

“I’d like for you to get a bath tonight. Or, maybe, 8 and a half is a good age to start taking short showers in the morning. That way, you’re nice and fresh for school.”

C: “NO SHOWERS! I HATE SHOWERS. They’re like standing in boiling water rain! NO!”

“OK, bath tonight, then, that’s fine. I noticed that your body is starting to grow and change some, and it’s normal for kids your age to have more body odor, so a bath will help.”

C: “Maybe I should start wearing deodorant.”

Since she’s the one who brought it up, I think I should maybe follow her lead. I will want to research this and find something in the natural products range. Just deodorant, and not antiperspirant.

If only getting my car to work right were as easy. Or solving the global climate crisis, for that matter.

Unfortunately, on the way home the Check Engine light came on. Great!