How am I feeling today?
My current class has some discipline and staying-on-task issues. At the beginning of the period I had to gently reprimand/redirect them for acting like hooligans. Just a little while ago I got them started on some work time for an assignment, and then — as I often must do with this class — added the instructions to Stay On Task, Don’t Wander the Room Chatting, and No Dealing Drugs In My Classroom. (Okay, I didn’t say that last bit, but I thought it.) And then, I followed up these instructions by saying, “I have a headache and I’m not in the mood to yell at you, so just don’t do it, okay? If you do, I’m going to throw things at you. Probably used kleenex.”
Lo and behold: twenty minutes of near-silent work time. Wow. Apparently the secret to classroom management is the threat of snot!
For the third day in a row, I have a headache. I theorize that this is coming from some sort of released/aggravated tension in my back; about a week ago, we had a free massage clinic and the therapist did an amazing job on my screwed-up left shoulder, but ever since then it has been tender and I’ve been having headaches that seem to creep up my neck and into my forehead. I hope it is just something muscular and not anything worrisome; I know there are some pregnancy issues that have recurring headaches as a symptom, but in honesty these headaches are nuthin’ compared to the skull-splitters I’m used to. It’s just that I’m being stubborn about not taking pain medication, so I’m feeling it more.
I just walked past one of the biology classrooms, where the teacher keeps a pretty red corn snake in an aquarium by the door. He (how do they know if a snake is a boy or a girl, I wonder?) has a toilet paper roll in there, and is currently double-threaded through the roll so that all you see are two snake-loops on either side. It’s pretty funny. I wonder if he thinks no one can see him because he can’t see us? Also: where’s my hiding tube?
It has been rainy the past couple of days (although as I type this, bright yellow sunshine is pouring through my windows, so perhaps it has stopped!) and my mood has been reflecting the weather. I’m not sure why I’ve been mopey. Part of it may be the time of the school year; the end of the first semester and beginning of the second are rough. Maybe I’m getting a cold, or maybe it’s the headaches. I think part of it is maybe a sort of loneliness; I want to “play baby” but everyone — myself included — is really too busy right now. It bums me out when R — who is frantically trying to survive his first year of full-time teaching while graduating from grad school — doesn’t have the time to talk about the stuff that I end up posting here, or when I get no comments, or when I don’t see any adults for a few days at work. Maybe there’s some sort of physic energy hanging over early December, left over from last year. As happy as I am now, as glad as I am that things have worked out for the best, it can’t be forgotten that my world came crashing down on this day twelve months ago.
This time of year, I like to read junk. By “junk,” I mean genre fiction, preferably in a nice long series, and usually in the urban fantasy or paranormal romance categories. This year I’ve really gone over the edge; I’m actually re-reading a series. Worse, I’m re-reading a series that I know I won’t like the ending of (well, it’s not over yet, but I don’t see it changing tracks anytime soon). I basically never re-read books, so I guess I’m in a profound state of mental laziness! It is a cozy sort of feeling, though, to read something familiar and know how things turn out. And this series is one that I tend to tear through, plugging very little into long-term memory, so it’s almost like reading it for the first time.
I am married to someone who has his master’s degree. Pretty spiffy, huh.
“So I have this student,” begins every teacher’s dramatic story of teenage escapades. This one is a doooooozy but would definitely take its own blog entry; plus, I’m not entirely sure that I’d feel comfortable posting it publicly, even with censored details. Let’s just leave it at this collection of images for now:
Picard gets two because I just love the idea of him getting up in this kid’s face. Maybe that would be some authority he would respect.
Tomorrow, assuming all goes well, Baby Baker’s gender will be revealed to us. I don’t know why this scares (not the right word, but I don’t know what is) me; this is the most anxious I’ve been about this pregnancy, with the exception of those scared-to-death moments before the emergency ultrasound we had after the bleeding.
Part of it is that I don’t know how (when, etc.) to share the news, and I haven’t really had any input in that. And for some reason, I find making pregnancy-related announcements to be the single most awkward thing EVER. I had to absolutely steel myself to tell people we were expecting! I’ve never had stage fright; I’ve never had nerves before a recital or a speech or anything else like that. But something about saying, “We’re pregnant” or “It’s a _________” makes me feel like I imagine most people feel when that spotlight surrounds them. It’s… embarrassing. Maybe a lot of people feel that way, and that’s why so many people do their announcing on Facebook and via text message these days!
All I know is that, when I envision walking into [my parents’ house]/[my friends’ classrooms]/[etc.] and sharing the results… my throat closes up. I can’t even formulate a sentence. The whole idea makes me want to curl up inside a toilet paper tube and pretend that no one can see me.
I have become ridiculous.
Another part of it might be that I might be hoping for a particular result. If I could choose — if I could have called up Storks R Us and picked pink or blue — I know which I would have chosen. And no, I’m not saying, because I don’t want someone (or this blog!) telling Shenanigans one day that I wanted a baby of the opposite gender instead! The thing is, I want This Baby, regardless of plumbing, and I want This Baby’s little brothers and sisters. God willing, I’ll have one or more of each eventually, if I don’t have any more significant trouble conceiving. So boy or girl, I’m going to be happy. But part of me worries that I… won’t be…? Won’t be quite as happy with one answer as I would have been with the other? So part of my anxiety is the fear of feeling disappointed, and with that the sense of self-disgust that I would feel at being disappointed about such a wonderful thing! It’s like, “Damnit, I didn’t want a brand new red car, I wanted it to be blue.”
Like I said. Ridiculous.
Today is the last day that I will be 31. This is actually kind of funny, because up until about two weeks ago, I had spent the entirety of this year quite certain that I was already 32. In fact, even as I type this, I begin to doubt my math all over again. Check for me… I was born in December 1980. It’s still 2012, right?
I feel as though I have pretty much “aged out” of birthdays. Is that something that happens when you turn 30? I just sort of don’t care about it anymore. I mean, I’m going to wear a cute outfit (sparkly, I think), and I deliberately scheduled the ultrasound on that day, and it’s not like I want to pretend it isn’t happening or anything. And I’m no longer particularly unhappy about aging, especially now that it turns out I’m a year younger than I thought I was; my only real concern with aging is that I thought I would have had started having kids by now, so I’m behind my personal schedule. Which means, I can’t wait as long between kids as I once thought I would.
I think it’s time to wrap this up and get ready to go home…