I am old.

    It is 9:30 at night and I am tired.  But I am rebelling at going to sleep at 9:30.  There is something wrong with that idea.  In my head.  I am an adult and adults stay up till 10 - at least.  I guess I am just like Sam who yawns all the while insisting that he is not tired.
     Jarrad is on his side, "deeply breathing".  He is tired.  He is running a low grade fever.  No, no open or angry wounds this time.  I think it is another UTI.  Oh, the joys of paralysis!  I will take a sample to the doctor tomorrow.  I am actually hopeful that that is what it is because it is an "easy" fix.
      He turned 40 yesterday.
     I have always felt that age was just a number.  That it didn't matter how old a person was.  I have to think sometimes about how old I am.  Too many other important things to remember than a number.
      This feels big though.  Momentous.
     We had a get together with friends at a local restaurant.  His sister came to spend the day with him.  He had 2, yes 2 cakes.  Because of a conversation that went like this:
     Me:  Jarrad, do you want me to get H to make a ginger cake or do you want a carrot cake for your birthday?
    Jarrad:  It's my birthday.
    Me:  I know.
    Jarrad:  I am going to be 40.
    Me:  Yes...
   Jarrad:  Why do I have to choose?
     So, he had 2 cakes.
    And a good time.  We went to a restaurant and had lunch with friends.  It was nice.
    U2's newest album is called Songs of Innocence.  It reminds me of Blake's collection of poems by the same title.  The idea that innocence is a lack of knowledge; the opposite of experience.  Neither is of itself bad or good.  It just is.
     And this just is.
    Listen to me, being morose - ish.  We have cake.  Nothing is ever bad when there is cake.
(so this took me over a week to write and post - it's a little late!)

Mistakes

    Last night, I was at work.  About 1/2 hour before closing, in comes this young adult.  She is a student teacher and needed some help finding books for come classes she is teaching.  I asked if she was on pinterest and she told me she was.  If I had been more aware (and less cocky perhaps), I would have picked up on her attitude.  As I was looking for books on her topics, I asked if she had looked at the teacher textbooks and curricula.  Simply because there is a wealth of information in those things and you don't have to reinvent the wheel - which I didn't know when I was student teaching. 
    Again, I was not paying attention to her cues. 
    And the she gave me the 3rd topic - Substance Abuse for 3rd graders. 
    I looked at her with wide eyes.  And then started looking for books. 
    I asked her if she had asked her co-op how to handle parents who had issue with this. 
    And that was my mistake. 
    I should have just looked for the books and handed her list but there were 2 things going through my head.  1.  I have a 2nd grader and am a parent.  2.  I was a teacher and woefully unprepared to handle parents AND teaching things that I personally had problems teaching at certain age groups. 
    She looked at me and told me that was the curriculum and parents would just have to deal with it. 
    Mistake # 2.  I told her that you can't tell parents that.  To which she replied to just give her the list because I was not being helpful. 
    5 minutes later, she left without any books.  She will never come to the library again.  And I will never be able to apologize. 
    I was wrong.  I should have just looked for the books.  I was not professional and I took it personally. So this is my apology to that student teacher.  I am sorry that I made you feel worse about something you already felt conflicted about.  I am sorry I was conceited.  I am sorry I was not helpful and I am sorry that I turned you off to a great resource. 

Last weekend

      Last weekend, I was at the beach.  Just last weekend.  It seems years have passed in between last weekend and this.  And while I don't miss the bed (WHY do hotels have such crappy mattresses?), I do miss the beach.

    Going to the beach was something my family did.  We went every summer.  Jarrad's family went more to the mountains; he has never been a beach guy.  He only ever went because it made me happy.  So he wasn't too disappointed to be on kid watching duty.
     My mom and my sister were coming (happy Mother's Day Mom) but I beat them there by a couple of hours.  The room was ready when I got there and I settled in, changed to sandals and went for a walk.
    There was a big celebration festival that weekend and the booths spread down the sidewalk for as far as I could see.  The sand was soft and warm and there was a gentle, salt kissed breeze as I walked into the water. 
    And breathed.
    The weekend consisted of browsing craft venders, seeing sand sculptures, chatting, swimming in the ocean, seeing fireworks and way too much funnel cake.
    It was  relaxing.  It was nice (despite the bed).  I enjoyed it.  Coming home was hard as I had to jump right into Mommy/wife roll . . . that was a bit jarring.

    Sorry, I just took a moment to remember the sand and the waves and the dolphins.
    Yeah, it was a good thing.