I Can't Believe We've Reached Watermelon Status

When we got married two years ago today, I had been constantly on theknot.com. Little did I know, as soon as we got married, our account became thenest.com. And when we got pregnant, it became thebump.com, complete with a newsletter called "the poo." Anyway, there has been this baby size index which compares the baby's size to fruit, and I can remember back when baby was a raisin, or something like that. Watermelon seemed sooooooooooooo far away, nearly impossible to reach. Today, on our anniversary, I got a nice little present in my inbox:

Happy Anniversary, to my DH! I can't believe this time two years ago, I was...still working on the script for the day with my cousin, Joyce, and drawing maps of how the table arrangements were supposed to go with my cousin Josephine. DH was probably still asleep.

Here is a little reminder of how the day went a la Maurice Ramirez, our awesome photographer: Our 7/7/7 Wedding

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Go Giants!!!

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Baby's first wilco shirt.

Dahlias from My Garden

I remember buying these in the fall and thinking, "$7 for two bulbs," thinking only two flowers would come out of them. Right now there are at least 20 buds formed. These I lopped off because they were weighing down the stalks, and well, because they are so beautiful. I think next year this whole side of my garden will be a dahlia garden. Then I can have beautiful flowers to cut all summer. And they're annuals. I am worried about them coming back, and what I may have to do to make them come back. I hear you have to dig them out and keep them in the fridge or something. Sounds complicated.

15 Year Old Baby

WB is my first baby. We are wondering how he is going to do when the baby arrives. He seems to know something is up. He looks questioningly at my belly, especially when his daddy is talking to it in the way that he used to talk to him. Packages and packages keep arriving. I spent the afternoon putting two carloads of gifts in their proper places. It was nice to hear a dad at childbirth class say he has diapered the cat. I didn't feel so bad about putting this bib on him and taking pictures this morning.

Shower

Our baby shower was last weekend. There were at least 50 people packed into my mom's house. I think maybe we should have had two separate showers. It was hard to talk to everyone, and not everyone wanted to/could play the games because there wasn't room. My friends handmade and brought decorations, and we had a Project Runway Maternity game, name the baby game, a pee pee tee pee (Google it!) contest, and a "What Would Robert & Lisa's Baby Look Like?" craft--scary (see pictures)!

It was so nice to see everyone, though, and I think my parents miss entertaining, although it was so much work for them and my sister who non-stopped cleaned, cooked and prepared for weeks. I am very grateful that we have such a great family and friends to bring our son into. Here are the photos from the baby shower.

Waiting Game

The other day I showed up over an hour early to an interview. I felt relaxed and prepared, content with not knowing what to expect. I began reading the literature around the office and felt as though I was falling in love with the place. I became giddy. Then I looked at my watch, and there were still, yet only, thirty minutes left until my appointment. I began to play a familiar record of doubt and negative thinking in my head. The butterflies began. I began to feel hot and fidgety. I realized that being so early is not always a good thing.

Today I looked at the www.americanpregnancy.org calendar and clicked on "Developing Baby." I am almost 35 weeks. I have for the most part been relaxed and content, not knowing what to expect. I have been giddy. Today, the panic is starting to get to me. The baby shower is today and we are expecting almost seventy guests. I looked at my belly today and it is so big and round that my skin is shining. The baby is moving consistently and responding to music we are playing for him. Oh, he's in there. And he is coming, ready or not. In five weeks or so, I will finally have him in my arms. It's both only and still five weeks to go. The things I am worried about now are going to take a big back seat. The sleep deprivation I have thought I felt all year will melt away as I try to get three hours of consistent sleep each night. My summer will not be a lonely, teacher-on-summer-vacation-who-lives-in-the-super-east-bay-far-away-from-friends kind of summer. No, loneliness will not be an issue when there is the little one who needs my attention 24 hours a day.

A student asked me several times this year if I was scared. I told her I try not to be scared about things I have no control over. So I will try to quiet myself, breathe, and just take the turns of this wild ride in stride.

Summer With the Nieces

These are my nieces on our first summer day together, 2009. I took them to my high school and they helped me get the last of my things out of my classroom. Then I took them bowling, to lunch, and to a movie. It was a lot of fun. These videos are pretty bad in quality, and apparently, I can't rotate them, but I wanted to try to show you their different techniques. The almost-8 year old had a very unorthodox delivery, but managed to "win" and get a lot of strikes. She kind of hurls it from the side. Apparently, she's very good at Wii bowling, as well. I always enjoy my nieces. Every now and then, the older girl would just out of the blue tell me she loved me. They always say "please" and "thank you" and never expect much when they come over, but to hang out. They always offer to help me in whatever I am doing. And when they fight, they usually make up on their own, but they rarely fight when they are with us. I am going to miss them when they move to LA this summer, but I am also very excited for their new life in SoCal. My brother once told me he worried about not being around and how they would turn out without him. I think he would be so proud of them. I hope I can be as good a parent as he was and my sister-in-law is and have children that are as kind, thoughtful and respectful.

Plant Swappers

Since I've had a home, I have been more interested in plants. I ask my mom about them a lot as she has one of the greenest thumbs I've ever seen. Grandma also makes beautiful things grow in her salty, foggy, but sunny Sunset backyard. I am surprised that this cactus cutting that came from the windy, dry, hot climate of Benicia could bloom so beautifully in San Francisco. This must also be due to the wisdom of the gardeners. Sometimes nature cannot act alone. Sure, it's a cactus. But it's possible, in the wrong hands, to destroy a cactus. Come take a look at my little garden. I have killed aloe. How is that possible?

Nursery Update

Grass design inspired by Etsy grass decal

My sister-in-law, Nuala painting the nursery. I wish these pictures actually reflected how awesome the colors are and all the beautiful details she put in.

After nearly six hours of painting, we took Nuala to Chow in downtown Danville which was very cute and had some great organic homestyle cooking.

I am almost completely on my summer vacation. I need to make it over to LHS this week to get the last of my things and turn in my gradebook since the printer at school was out of ink. This week is very busy with 5 visits to the hospital for tests and classes, a good friend coming in from out of town, the shower and a visit with the nieces. I am going to take them swimming. Oh, and now I need to find a bathing suit for whale sized pregnant ladies.

Oh Floral, How I Love Thee

Tight Fists of Beauty

Peonies are one my favorite flowers. I love flowers that are beautiful in every stage, that can go from a tightly closed fist, to an open flutter of light, airy beauty.

From My Garden

The rose came from my former colleagues at El Camino when I left. It's still growing strong. The rose scented geraniums are from my mom's garden. The white pom pom daisies she also gave me last year. Not all my flowers are working out, but these are the first cut-worthy of the season. I guess it's worth all the allergies.

Oh Catnip, How I Love Thee

A Perfect Weekend

"You will see a perfect thing today." When we pulled into the North Beach Garage on Vallejo, I was squinting to see if the blue stripes down the parking spots were for handicapped parking. My husband said, "No, I think they have fortunes, though." We were on our way to a coworker's daughter's graduation party at Taqueria Zorro in North Beach, which I'm pretty sure is the only taqueria in North Beach. The yelp reviews are mixed, but we really enjoyed the food. Her daughter was graduating with a degree in Communications from SFSU. My coworker told me how all the speakers at her daughter's graduation spoke of nothing but the bleak outlook for graduates this year, with the economy in the toilet and jobs in their field scarce. One told them to take whatever they could get, minimum wage even, and work their way up. These are the times in which we live.

I remember graduating from college eight years ago and feeling pretty confident that even if I couldn't get a job in my field, I'd probably be able to get a "desk job," whatever that meant to me then. It was hard to be a small fish in a big pond again, after feeling I knew my way in and out of UC Davis. I had a severe "quarter life crisis," but my out-of-college-twenties are a precious time to me. I was broke, questioning my beliefs and how I would apply them to a career, and meeting a new world of amazing people, possibly, the most genuine people I have ever met and will meet in my whole life. I was also heartbroken in the world of love and never felt more alone, but never felt more free.

There are two months until I become a mother, Godwilling, for the rest of my life. I have this strong sense that I don't know how precious this time will be and don't appreciate the freedom I have now, except for this morning. Waking up later than my weekday 4am, lying in bed with my husband, I relished in the quiet and the freedom of the morning. I could do whatever I wanted. I know those mornings will be few if not nil soon. What did I choose to do with my freedom?

I cleaned the house. What? I'm nesting.

Graduation Day - 30 Weeks

The doctor said the baby is officially past the window of risk for heartbeat blockage, so today was my last high-risk doctor's appointment (knock on wood). He actually gave us a picture today, something he rarely does. I think the baby has a naughty little look. Gosh, I can't wait to hold him! The days are marching on to the end of the school year, and I am still without a guaranteed position at my current school. No one is hiring. The baby's due date is the first day I will not have a paycheck. Everyone is saying to enjoy the time off, and that it's a good thing that I will not have a job so I can spend time with the baby, but I can't help but feel like a bad mother who doesn't have a job to support her baby she is bringing into the world. In the mean time, I am looking for a job, but it's hard to look for a job for four months from now. People either would want me to start soon or when the baby is due, and it's a little difficult planning wise. Sometimes I wish I never gave up my tenure, but losing three hours of one's day driving or commuting, and having a bay between the baby and me would not be worth it. Still, the postings are slim, and I don't know what to do with myself.

Hospital Tour-Come on Lucky #7

Last night we took a tour of the maternity ward at Walnut Creek Kaiser. They have 11 labor and delivery rooms that are huge, with hardwood floors, a fold out bed, a shower and a cool bed where you can also be in squatting position. The room we happened to see is the only one with a walk-in tub. This room is reserved on a first come first served basis for women who want unmedicated births. Woohoo! I just hope there is not a full moon around the time of the due date, lest we be competing with all the other election night babies.

There is a lot to remember about going to the hospital. There is a long list of things you need to pack including an ice chest for Husband. Husband also needs to bring a bathing suit because SOs are to be clothed at all times, and if he is hosing you off in the shower or in the tub or something, no one wants to see his willy if the nurses need to come in. The room also has varying ambient lighting, a flat screen TV and a VHS player. The view out the window is of 680. It's room number 7. I figure this is our lucky number since our wedding was 7/7/7 and Lucas can come from "light" or "luck," so hopefully we will get this room. I guess I can also stay in my big tub at home until we really have to go to the hospital for pain management.

I am still torn about who I want in the room with us or if it should be just us. I think they said you could have up to 5 people in the room. That might be stressful. She said I can change my mind whenever I want, though, so I'm sure if I need a doula, my mommy, daddy or ate, it will be OK.

Another reason I am typing this up is because I need to remember all the steps.

1. Call L & D ahead of time before you leave (bring paperwork and birth bag full of the million things you need).

2. Park in Stork Parking for up to 1 hour, or in the garage if there is enough time.

3. Enter through main lobby.

4. Three rights make a labor. After the first right, take the elevator to the second floor.

5. Knock on the triage room on your left to be admitted.

6. You forgot the rest, so ask triage people what to do next (the tour started at 7:45 and my bed time is 8:00).

I can hardly wait for that day to get here.

Fox Theatre, Oakland

I remember living in Oakland and seeing the "Light Up the Fox" sign on the marquee at this theatre. M says it was closed down for 30 years. We just went to see Keane there last Friday. I couldn't believe how beautiful it was. It's amazing what a critical mass of dedicated people can do. Although I was falling asleep and ultimately stayed up for 24 hours, I enjoyed the night.

M is right. We are getting old. We waltzed in after an unrushed dinner at Tamarindo and left before the last encore. This is one of the signs of oldness. It was a nice night, though. It's good to be around happy people.

The rest of my weekend was a mixed bag ending up with the worst day Sunday. On Saturday I got to see my mom and dad, recently back from their trip to Spain. I also saw my nieces' softball game. Gabbie is a big hitter and Bella is a little spitfire. Sunday was just a bad day for me. Things are getting better, though, day by day.

My belly is getting a bit ridiculous. I scrolled down the other day and saw my 6 months picture, and was a little surprised. I looked SKINNY compared to now. I should really do a comparison shot in the same outfit. It's so weird! Anyway, this weekend is another marathon weekend, and I am hoping I can hang. Looking forward to seeing Les Mis at LHS. And possibly finding out about having a job in the fall.

7 Months

7 months, but there are 3 months left. Pregnancies are not 9 months. They are 10 months including your ovulation date. No one tells you these things. I have realized I am really enjoying the adventure of being pregnant. All these strange things happen to your body. It's also a big test in "bahala na." Leave what you can't control in God's hands, and you will find life very relaxing. Not in a fatalist way. Of course you do what you can within your means.
In the way of school, I finally feel like I am getting the hang of this new school and trimester system, and now I don't know if I have a job and the year is almost over. There are 9 more days until I can actually make any sort of significant plan or move.
In my mental register of things to look forward to, I am planning a girls night for my hs/college gfs, we are hosting a Mother's Day BBQ, I *may* have tickets to the Lincecum bobblehead night, we *may* be going to Hilo for Christmas. There are so many things coming up. There are weddings, showers and of course, Baby on the way. I'm a happy camper these days. I'm especially excited about the sunshine and coming home to my garden. Trying to keep track of the blessings. Feel me?

Wish You Were Here

My cute husband-slash- baby-daddy. I was missing Robert on Sojourn and published this. Being pregnant has been really good for us. It's really made us more tender with one another. Hope that continues after Baby comes.

March on Montgomery from Selma

Got Husband this shirt from the Montgomery Civil Rights Institute for his birthday. It's my favorite image of The Civil Rights Movement. I sent the photo to him on his bday so he could open a present. I've got to stop being on Sojourn when it's his birthday.

Edmund Pettus Bridge

This is the view of the Edmund Pettus Bridge from the St.James Hotel in Selma, AL. I can almost hear and see the events of Bloody Sunday unfolding every time I look out on that bridge. The night we stayed here, there was a spectacular thunder storm that we enjoyed from the veranda outside our rooms. Too bad I couldn't enjoy the party completely and had to turn in early. Don't ever say that teachers can't party.

Stone Mountain

Call it "The Confederate Mount Rushmore" or "The Rebirth Place of the Klan" or "The Confederate Disneyland." This is where Sojourn starts. I always find it ironic and surreal listening to "I Have a Dream" while hundreds of Georgians gather to hear cheerleader music blasted while a laser light show is projected onto the Confederate carvings on the mountain and fireworks burst in the air.

Nursery Inspiration

Here are some photos from Kahi Lee's Design on a Dime, pillows from moderndesires.com, and a nursery from hgtv.com. I love designing things, even though I know the baby is probably going to sleep with us for a while. I had some news from my rheumatologist yesterday, but I have three other doctors that disagree with him on the topic of SLE patients breastfeeding. The kind of disagreeing that evokes rolling of the eyes and holding of the head in one's hands. "Good for baby, bad for mom." I have not (knock on wood) had a serious flare up since high school, and if the risk of a flare is equally as great whether or not I breastfeed, I am damn well going to breast feed. I am so grateful that my sisters and mom are in the medical field because people can get seriously DUPED. I will get another opinion, though Friday from my perinatologist.

The baby has interesting taste in music. So far he moves a lot when Kid Cudi, Lil Wayne, Snoop Dog, Black Eyed Peas and whoever sings "Ice Cream Paint Job" comes on the radio. I better start diversifying the car music, but I just like to feel him moving. I think he sleeps through English class during the day and when I come home to sit down and relax or wash the dishes, he starts his kicking. It was so nice when Robert felt the first kick. We just looked at each other, and it was definitely another step in this process. It was so nice to connect, the three of us, in that way. Robert sometimes plays a game where he blows on my stomach and the baby kicks him hard. Already a fighter.

Almost 31, Almost 6 Months

We just got back yesterday from a full weekend vacation in Santa Cruz. We stayed at The Dream Inn. While we were there, we ate at Zachary's and had the oatmeal molasses bread, Cafe Brasil where we tried to acai bowl and the Pinto Gallo and Beef a Cavalo. We walked 4 miles along the Pacific cliffs and saw whales, sea lions, surfers, strollers, beautiful houses, and hundreds of dogs. We rode the ferris wheel (only mellow pregnancy-friendly ride) on the boardwalk and shared a chocolate dipped softserve. The baby was jumping up and down while we were in line. We "saw" Rhett Miller in the evening at The Crepe Place. "Saw," because the venue SUCKED, and had no stage, therefore, there was nothing to be seen. I liked the new/old songs, though. We left early because the baby was moving a lot. We also actually went swimming and laid on the beach for a while. We were blessed with 70 degree weather. Here are the other pictures: Babymoon. It's always hard to get back to the grind, but at least there are only 2 months of school left. I am so excited to meet the baby, I can't stand it. It's Lennie-like.

Kicks

Last night Husband was finally able to feel the baby moving from the outside. He (Baby) gave one strong kick after a few minutes of me asking, "Did you feel that?" and Husband sadly answering, "No," until finally he felt it and we both looked at each other and it was so sweet to see his eyes light up and finally both feel what I have been feeling alone since 16 weeks. Yes, 16 weeks, Dr.Carlitz. I was not imagining things. This baby has LONG legs, and as our ultrasound tech said, "He's a wild one." I know what I was feeling before was not typical. I told Husband it feels like going over that old dip in 680 near Pacheco when you used to be able to get air if you were going fast enough, only over and over in a matter of seconds, like a ripple. Tomorrow we are heading to Santa Cruz.

Sadly, I will be missing my former students perform at the Youth Speaks semifinals at the SF MoMA. I'm sure it will be a night to remember.

We are planning to meet up with Baby Sister at the wharf for dinner and the sunset. I'm excited. Then hiking and swimming Saturday, and Rhett, with brunch at Cafe Brasil on Sunday. Should be a great time. Hope my allergies don't ruin the beautiful weather, and that we get the room on a high floor we requested. Santa Cruz might seem like a weird place for a baby moon, but I have a thing for ferris wheels, the ocean, and Rhett Miller's music and the idea of a boutique hotel that donates to grass roots organizations, so it seems like a perfect weekend. Pink slip and all.

In other news, I am excited for all the weddings coming up. Kristine, my younger cousin from SD, Hanh's wedding that I am crashing as Jeremy's big pregnant date, Graham's wedding in Ireland, and Elena's wedding next next October. I LOVE weddings. I am going to be a bridesmaid twice in the next couple of years, so at least I have some extra motivation to get back to working out after I've healed from birth. Sometimes I still feel like a kid in big people's clothes, and I can't believe I am going to be a mother. I am just hoping all the instincts kick in when that little guy is in my arms. I know it's going to come faster than I know it.

A Weekend to Celebrate

Had a great time at Elena's last night. I think the baby likes Kid Cudi. He definitely likes bass. Angela's sister, Vivian told me some very entertaining birthing stories and gave lots of helpful advice over the loud music. I think I got all the important parts. My favorite was when she stood up and let out a battle cry--luckily, the baby was caught. I am glad I am not the only mama-to-be who feels weird talking to her uterus. I guess it's kind of hard to imagine that this little creature inside of you can actually hear and will remember your voice after they are born. I try, but I don't usually know what to say. Anyhow, this video looked better in my camera, but I love how Elena and her friend thought I was taking a picture in this...Since it was a potluck, I made this Paula Deen artichoke dip. Unfortunately, someone brought the same exact thing and my baguette was gone in 5 minutes. This morning I used it to make a scramble with more spinach, tomatoes and bell peppers.

Friday night was amazing. Robert and I went to the Youth Speaks prelims at the Filipino Community Center. I saw seven of my former students, four of which will be in the Youth Speaks semifinals next week at the San Francisco MoMA. Charles made me cry and Melissa almost had me falling out of my seat with her rawness. She got straight 10s. I was so proud to have gotten the opportunity to be these kids' teachers. They are going to be runnin' the show soon.

Today was a deceivingly beautiful day in San Francisco. I got to catch up with my old roommate from Washington DC. I can't believe that was 8 years ago. I was fresh out of college, fresh out of what I THOUGHT was a relationship leading to marriage (thank GOD it didn't), and fresh out of CASH. Maryann and Les made the summer memorable and put the sweet in bittersweet. I walked two hours to my internship once because I didn't have metro fare. DC in the summer is hot, sticky, and unbearable. I preferred to spend most of the summer with my face in the air conditioner. I loved the fireflies. I loved hanging out with Les and walking everywhere with Maryann. I loved the Shennandoah River. One thing I truly love about the east coast, though are the amazing thunder storms in the summer. You just don't get those kind in California. Where it's warm, and pouring, and the whole sky lights up like daylight, and the thunder sounds like bombs being dropped in the distance, reminding you how small, powerless, and vulnerable to fate you are. I miss that. But not enough to leave these beautiful spring days in California. Happy Spring, everyone.

In a couple of weeks, Robert and I will be turning 31. This year we are just having an immediate family party instead of a big one. Once a friend suggested that once you are past a certain age, you are too old to celebrate by having a party, even a family one. I disagree, especially if you don't get family all in one place very often. I realize this is something I miss most about having my brother around. We always celebrated everything, and got together regularly. Life is too short not to celebrate.

Which leads me to our babymoon. This weekend, we will be going on a babymoon to Santa Cruz and staying here: The Dream Inn. In four months, (God willing) we will become parents for the rest of our lives. That is huge. That is worth celebrating. And worth getting some moments alone, too. I feel excited, grateful, and blessed. I hope the week flies by.

Barnes and Noble Day

She's reading The Girl's Book: How to be the Best at Everything. That's my girl! Last weekend, somehow I paid $45 to take my nieces to see The Jonas Brother's 3D concert. I THOUGHT it was on IMAX, as if that would have made it worth it.

The best part was after, taking them to get books at Barnes. The plan was to sit down and read, drink hot cocoa and nerd out together. I got 100 Years of Solitude. Bella got a Judy Blume, and Gabbie got the book here. I love my nieces and they have very different personalities. So of course Bella put her iPod in and wanted us to listen to all the funny songs on it, and Gabbie zoomed through the book, and wanted to tell me about everything she read. She even corrected my grammar at one point during their visit. I didn't get to read much, but I remember being that age and wanting an adult to listen and enjoy what I was excited about learning about, so I listened.

I try not to spoil them. They're very good kids and don't even ask for anything. I had an auntie who spoiled me rotten when I was young, and she was my godmother, too. But every time I spend a weekend or a visit with my nieces, I think of how my brother can't be there, and cherish how special it is that I have this chance and time to be with them. And I feel like he's with us when I'm with them. I'm glad we get to be such a big part of their lives, even in his absence.

More Evidence

of why I want to come back as a cat. Husband and I joke that in his former life, WB was a stock broker who drove a sports car and got "all the chicks." He just has that kind of aura about him. I read the most interesting article about Manx cats the other day, and don't know why I haven't read up on them in the 15 years I've had WB. They are known as "the dog cat." I think this is a nice compromise between a dog and a cat. He doesn't jump on you, smell, need to be walked or let out to do business. He COULD be leash trained, comes potty-trained, comes when you call, can learn to fetch, growls at threatening predators, goes to the door like a dog, is loyal to his people, and can live to be 35. I'm impressed. Also, once they get past their lower body issues, which he has, they are generally very healthy. I also like how his eyes are round unlike most cats, and he has a funny body. He's not fat! Just bigboned and deep in the torso (He used to be really fat when he lived with my parents.), but now he just has a flap. Too bad WB is declawed, but it just makes him more stuffed animal like. I hope he lives to be 35.

WEA

Husband spotted this on our Half Moon Bay date in a used book store next to Sushi Main Street (one of my favorite sushi places in the bay area). This is from an old department store chain that used to be in the bay area. It was my first job. Gawd, I have a lot of stories about this place. Don't you hate it when people say "I'll blog about this later?" I'll blog about this later.

Easy Fondant Cookies

I probably already posted these. How embarrassing. I made these for Rissa's baby shower. They were soooooo easy to make and look somewhat professional. The way you do it is CHEAT. Buy pre-rolled fondant at Michael's. Make some easy sugar cookies for cutting. Use the same cookie cutter you use to make the cookies to cut out the fondant. "Glue" the fondant onto the cookie with corn syrup. Put in cute baggies with ribbon. Viola! I don't recommend eating the fondant by itself, although everyone said the cookies tasted good. They didn't believe me that they were only for decoration and opened them and ate them. There are less OA colors of fondant, too. Good luck!

Pine Cone

This was a cool pine cone Husband brought me from our tumultuous Thanksgiving family vacation. Mycenaman could tell you more about it. I forgot, but they have a cool story about reproduction. Sorry, not very helpful.

4 Months Pregnant - Happy Valentine's Day!

Okay, okay. I told myself I wouldn't do this, and granted, I am sucking it in, but when else is it appropriate to lift up your shirt and take a picture? Today Husband and I went to The Academy of Sciences and when we got in, the ticket taker gave us tickets to the planetarium show that was all reserved. She said someone who left just gave them to her. I felt for a second like I won the lottery because we were already expecting not to get tickets. That's the thing about being a pessimist, you can always be pleasantly surprised. I guess that's not a very happy way of looking at it. Anyway, belly picture. 16.5 weeks. I will take another one maybe at 20 weeks to compare. Since I already had a tummy, it's hard to see the difference. Haha.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I remember making a stink about Husband not giving me flowers in high school on Valentine's Day. I was such a brat. He gave me this little gold pin in the shape of a rose, and I didn't appreciate it at all. That night he showed up with a dozen roses. I think he made his dad go get them for me because I was being such a brat. My Spanish teacher (my favorite one) called me a spoiled B every year after when I got roses on Valentine's Day. I am still a brat. Every year I ask my husband if he is going to send me flowers. This year he teased me and said, "But Valentine's Day is Saturday." They showed up this time early, in first period. They are so pretty. I don't know how I will carry them home. Maybe I will leave them here. Only it's a long weekend.

Every morning when my alarm goes off, I snooze for about twenty minutes, but in that time I am praying. So I lay in bed and try to count my blessings and ask God to bless everyone in my family. Ever since I was little, it was the same litany of prayers: Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be, and the Chabacano prayer Mamang taught me that I think translates: Bless the chalice, bless the altar, bless my bed, where I lay my head, and then I say, "Dear God, Please bless (this part is said very quickly, imagining faces while I think them) My mothers, my fathers, my grandmothers, my grandfathers, my aunts, my uncles, my sisters, my brothers, my cousins, my nieces, my pets and my friends." Since I've been married, I have added: And most of all, please bless my husband that I am so lucky to have and keep him healthy because he is everything to me, and please bless my baby with health and safety." Today I thanked God for our house and my job, even though things are so uncertain, I want to be grateful for them while we have them. Twenty minutes goes by so fast. I try to start the day counting blessings because it's so easy to get caught up in dread and anxiety and negative thinking.

Despite the rain, I hope everyone has a great weekend. A great Valentine's Day, and if you have the day off, a great President's weekend.

Peace Out.

15 Weeks Entry

This is the day we (think) we found out the baby is a boy. This is the hospital where my mom works. This is where, God willing, our baby will be born. This was the first time I heard the baby's heartbeat. 160 bpm. It's early to some on one hand, but I also feel like enjoying every moment, and knowing the baby as much as possible, and loving the baby, as soon as I can, too. We know anything can happen at any time. This is one reason we opted to know the sex, that we talk to the baby, that we are so excited to share it with people. I say "think" the baby is a boy because I told the doctor that I think it's a boy, so she looked, and said, "How did you know it's a boy?" Then we went in for a closer look, and Baby crossed his legs. No peeking, I guess, until Daddy can see. Daddy had to work that day, but Grandma was with me. There are several things I did not know about being pregnant.

1. The crazy hormone-induced dreams. I should really keep a dream journal. I have never seen my brother-in-heaven so much in my dreams, which is nice.

2. Leukorrhea

3. That only 1/2 of women get nauseated, and of those only 1/2 throw up. I am of the latter.

4. Prenatal Colostrum

5. I could wear completely unbuttoned pants with the help of a belly band (why don't they have this all the time?)

6. Nosebleeds and bloody gums (your body produces 50% more blood when you're pregnant)

7. There is no real maternity leave for teachers

8. Something bad happens when you cough or pee and your bladder is not empty

Below is the picture of my sister's Obama water from Inauguration Day. Baby is an election night baby. I guess at the time it was more of a zygote. I feel excited and frightened to bring the baby into these times. I have faith that things will work out. But planning never hurt faith, nor outcomes. We need to figure a lot of things out in the coming weeks.

Oh yes he did.

Ate's obama water.

Breathe

 She said she didn't want to be in the program because her boyfriend didn't want her in it. This is a program that will help her fly. Literally. She wants to be a flight attendant. I don't understand, but I do. I know how easy it can be to be so dependent on someone that you lose sight of yourself, your worth, and the quality of your own life. And she is just seventeen. She comes in for extra credit, and she has a 96%. She is bright. Thinks critically. Is almost fluently bilingual if she didn't get nervous sometimes and feel like she doesn't know the English words. She knows lots of them. Many more than the beginning of the year, anyway. My heart breaks for many of my students. It is important to be doing meaningful work in one's life, in these times. I am grateful to have a job, and one that I truly believe matters, if only to a few.

Right now I am going to grade this stack of composition books, this mixture of dreams spilled on paper and drill-and-kill mandatory assignments for "literacy across the content areas." I think in teaching, sometimes, it is more important to inspire than to score. Not everyone agrees.

I am almost in my 5th year in education, 6th if you count my anthropological study of the No Child Left Behind based educational software company where I worked in Potrero Hill to put me through the credential program. A student teacher wandered into my room today to ask me for advice about motivating a kid who won't turn in anything. I told him what I've done in the past, but what I was really thinking was about my friend at my old HS where I taught who said he would make a deal with kids like that. "I'll give you your F right now. Just come in and put your head down and don't bother anybody. You are not allowed nor required to participate." Half way through the term, the kid would wise up and start shaping up.

Today I answered a student who said "The library is for nerds," with "Do you want to be a nerd or a failure? It's your choice." She marched off to the library. I think my hormones are getting to me.

It's Not the Suburbs, It's Country

This tree seems somewhat out of place in our neighborhood, but it's part of an environmentally sensitive area that seems to be preserved. This tree was home to many different kinds of birds, as we could see with the naked eye and hear the many different calls coming from it. I think it's beautiful and ancient looking. It sets an image in my mind of what this area must have looked like before all these big housing developments moved in. I hope it stays preserved for a long time.

Castro Theatre SF's Sound of Music Sing Along

The Saturday after Christmas, Mom, Eileen, Jacquie, Jeremy and I went to see the Sound of Music at the Castro Theatre. People dressed in character both on staff and in the audience showed up in the hundreds to interact with their favorite musical. I enjoyed the children and adult costume contest, and experiencing this favorite film of the women in my family in an all new way. It was hard not to get emotional in the beginning while remembering so many times watching this with my grandmother and aunties on holidays.

December 26, 2008

This is the little peanut at 9 + weeks.

So As Not to Forget (May Cause Vomiting)

Last night, Husband and I tried to remember all our Christmas Dates, and can't remember if we had one last year. So, I am deciding to write about this one in case we are wondering next year. But first, I must explain the history of the Christmas Date. When we were not even dating on the Christmas of 1994 or 1995 while we were still in high school, he told me to get dressed up and he would be taking me out. He arrived to pick me up from my mom's house and gave me a present from his family, and also a satin robe from Victoria's Secret that I still have to this day. He blindfolded me and we drove. And drove. And drove. Because he was lost. I took off the blindfold to help him look. We were looking for the Equinox, which is a rotation restaurant on top of a hotel overlooking San Francisco. I remember when we finally got there, we were late, but the glass elevator ride up was so beautiful because there were all these Christmas lights hanging down from the ceiling of the atrium. We ate our meal, and unfortunately, being 17, we did not understand the mathematics behind tipping. We gave the waiter a 5 cent tip. It was all we had. His dad told him fifty bucks would be fine for the night. Then there was a second surprise. We drove to the War Memorial Opera House. We were going to see The Nutcracker. I was a dancer at the time, and still had aspirations of becoming a professional dancer, so it was very fitting and romantic; however, we didn't understand that after 6pm, parking was free, so we looked and looked for parking for about an hour, and missed the first half. This was the first Christmas date. Two Christmases ago, in 2006, Robert reinacted this date, older, wiser, and with more than 50 bucks and a Honda Accord.

Three Christmases ago, he took me to the restaurant at The Cliff House, which was where we would also go on dates such as during the freshman homecoming, or for our senior prom.

Last night, we went to Crustacean. See typically, we go to Thanh Long for Valentines Day, though I haven't been up for it for a few years. Crustacean is the more upscale, albeit newer and unoriginal version on Polk and California. We always get the same thing: roasted crab, garlic noodles, and shaken beef. This was the first time we couldn't finish a whole crab between the two of us. The baby must have been saying, "The walls are closing in, woman! What are you doing?!" It was very sweet, especially since I have been craving crab. Then when we got home, he said, "Don't fall asleep. There is one more thing." And he turned off the lights and turned on the Christmas tree, and played this song from Run, Fatboy, Run while we slowdanced:

Our love has changed,
It's not the same,
And the only way to say it
Is say it .. it's better.

I can't concede,
This way I feel,
For all the time we spent, together,
Forever .. just gets better.

See what I'm trying to say is:
You make things .. better
And no matter what the day is,
With you here .. it's better.

I'll stand by you,
If you stand by me.
I think time that I, reveal it,
'Coz I believe it
It's better

See what I'm trying to say is:
You make things .. better
And no matter what the day is,
With you here .. it's better

Ooh the more I .. talk .. to .. you
The more in love with
E .. vry .. thing .. you .. do

Doo doo doo doo doo doo

See what I'm trying to say is:
You make things .. better
And no matter what the day is,
With you here .. it's better

Our love has changed
It's not the same
And the only way to say it
Is say it .. it's better

Happy Holidays

Our Silly Scrabble Game

I think my favorite is "froot."

Husband's First Brined Turkey

The Newspaper I Found in my Classroom

The school paper was vandalized.

The California Academy of Sciences

A fun day with the nieces. I love spending time with them.

Jerry & Nannette's Wedding

The Ibarra-Tacdols

I pledge allegiance...

My classroom

November 4, 2008

When I heard John Lewis's reaction to the election, everything I learned and experienced on Sojourn to the Past came flooding back to me. Love to Selma.

Our Lovely Pumpkins

My Contribution

All the faculty at staff at my school finished off our staff dev day by making a tile that will go into a mural. I couldn't believe how easy they made it sound. I wish I thought of doing a tile mural with E.Y.E. last year. Mern.

In other news, my husband and I have experienced some strange experiences in Danville this month, borderline hate crimes. It feels as if a dark cloud is hovering, and I wake up angry and go to bed angry every day. I have had to employ the six principles of non-violence, breathe, and intentionally and deliberately not sweat small stuff lately. Although Halloween is one of my favorite months, this month has been my least favorite time as a teacher, and as a "Dubville" resident.

Still, one must count her blessings. I need to work on not complaining. I was reading in my mom's Oprah magazine about people keeping gratitude journals. I am going to have an almost-end-of-the-year-resolution to keep one such journal. Let's see. Today I am grateful for carving 3 pumpkins, an owl, a spooky face, and a Chinese lantern looking one. I am thankful for kids going trick-or-treating for the first time and wanting their mom to open the candy right then and there so they could eat it. I am thankful that I have a job, healthcare, a home, friends, family, a car, a loving husband, a 14 year old cat. I am thankful that my family is going to Tahoe for a mini vacation during Thanksgiving, the first one in a LONG, LONG time. I am thankful to have friends willing to drive from Pacifica, SF and Union City to spend Halloween with us. I am grateful for all the candy I am going to eat when no more trick-or-treaters come. I am thankful I have a gym membership to work off said candy. Wow, I already feel better.

Robert's First Homemade Eggs Benedict

The one he made me came out perfect, but his started to scramble. I felt bad, but it was delicious. I love Sunday morning breakfasts with my husband.

Not the Haircut I Expected

This is not what I had in mind at all. I was thinking more of a season 1 HIMYM Lily haircut, but this is what she did, and I have to live with it. She went a little crazy on the bangs, but I feel a bit like a different person, so it's fun in that sense. Just got back from a long training in San Jose and I'm off to school. TGIF. Quote from Kinsella training, "The thing about NCLB is that teachers don't correct bad practices, they just keep doing them, but with terrier like fervor."

Visiting 6th Grade BFF. Meet Bella.

WB Helping Grade Papers

WB always likes to stand on papers that are on the floor, like during Christmas.

Brittany's Crepes

This was my second crepe. The first one I accidentally spilled a bottle of water on, and the Frenchman cooking up the delicious crepes at the farmers market, insisted I not pay him to make another one. "You've already paid me. Get out of here! I don't want to see you again!" This one was apple confit with chantilly and caramel sauce.

Seen at the Danville Farmers Market

Steven Spielberg Homecoming Theme

It's neat to be at a school where homecoming is big--the hc in the town where I grew up was crazy. They have a main street parade with the marching band. The homecoming court rides in convertibles. Each class has a float. The football team marches (I think. I never paid attention to football players), and the cheerleaders all ride on a firetruck. Then during the big game, it really is a homecoming. There are people from many many years passed that return, and the floats also go around the track at half time. So one point for the new school. I don't really like their rally system--it's optional, and the gym is really small, and there is no way 600 freshmen could really fit in the stands. I liked how my old school had a point system for spirit, and how much more diverse participation was in the school. I feel like there are two schools within my school right now, and not everyone feels welcome to participate. The school doesn't really seem spirited, and there is no way for freshmen to really get plugged in, like my old school's rush week. I seemed to have gotten "suckered" into being the class activities advisor. I get to plan a Sadie Hawkins dance with the kids. I'm off to school. I'm wearing Cowboy boots. Oh-em-gee. Cowboy up.

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Moose Mallows

"We'd Rather Be Teaching"

More Yogurt Shack Fun

Mom and Dad @ the Park

Go Giants

Sunset at the Park

Macs @ AT&T Park

Danny's Brick

This brick is on the path that leads right into Willie Mays Plaza. We got in to get our free fleece Shapell Homes Giants blanket tonight. We looked for the brick for about five minutes and found it finally under Bella's foot. Within the first ten minutes of batting practice, Gabbie caught a ball. Danny can make a lot of things happen--just not the Giants winning. Man it was weird being surrounded by Dodger stinkin blue tonight...oh well. It was good family fun.

Angela's First Time @ Yogurt Shack

Last night Angela, Robert and I went to Similan Thai in Danville, and then to Yogurt Shack for dessert. We had the "Similan Treasure," which is the closest thing to Boston's Brown Sugar's Carribean Treasure or whatever it's called. It is seafood curry served in a young coconut. While at Yogurt Shack, Angela was pretty overwhelmed, and she and Robert bounced ideas around about opening up a Yogurt Shack in UC. They invented the idea of green mango fro yo with bagoong topping. Yum! Maybe a sticky rice ball on the side. The other day, Robert and I were at our favorite Vietnamese place in the Park N Shop in Concord w/Ate and Brian, and I was reminded of an episode at the BK there. Thought I'd share. This is a poem about an old friend and I at Burger King. I am now wondering where my Salma Hayek doll is...

SAMUEL RIVERA III,
ON BEING ABLE TO HANDLE ONESELF IN ANY SOCIAL SITUATION

sitting near the trashcan
in burger king
trying to figure out if
my salma hayek doll
had moveable parts
(i had the kids meal,
you had the whopper)
a man approached us
in a raiders jacket
i thought he might be
throwing something out
but like in the movies
he opened it to reveal

items for sale

(it was the third
time you and i ever saw
each other)
do you like oils?
he asked
i wondered,
what do we look like?
why exactly are we
his target audience?
i got one called “booty call”
i slumped down
on the hard plastic seat
you chopped it up,
sounding interested,
told him you didn’t really believe
it said “booty call” on the bottle

unfortunately he proved you wrong

he unscrewed the little flask and
began shoving it towards my nose
i was somewhat uncooperative
“i got another one called
‘butt nekked’ you might like”

i wondered if this was really happening

you told him calmly
that if you had some extra money
you’d definitely buy some
and that you’d keep a lookout for him

you did the guy thing
the handshake
the “all-right-dude-peace” thing
and he was out the door
you returned to your whopper
smiled
and said
go ahead, laugh it up

My, ahem, OUR New Car, 2008 Audi A3

Robert decided it was not cool for me to drive the CRV, which had a crash test rating of "unacceptable" on the long, slightly windy, two-lane country road to work every day. Also, the CRV was not getting very good gas mileage. He has missed his old A4, and upon research and haggling, he purchased this car. I like it. It's fast, pretty and easy on the gas. I don't really name cars or inanimate objects, but perhaps you can help me think of one.

Front Shot

Buckwheat Futon, Gone in 60 Seconds

I bought this in Davis when I lived w/Naida at J Street Apartments, I believe. I bought it for $50 from a grad student who had kids and lived in this weird house with slanty ceilings in downtown Davis. I bought it mostly because my daybed was getting, well, cramped. From there, it traveled with me to Benicia, to a foyer in Richmond, back to Benicia, where my nieces decided they would take markers and draw sunshines and little stick girls on it. Finally, we found a home. It lived in my office an entire year. Then I said, this stinkin' futon is a big PITA. I am selling it on Craigslist. For $20. It was gone almost as soon as I put it up. In the mean time, we got rid of another futon that SIL gave us. I told my husband, "no one ever sleeps over any way." And like clockwork, we needed a bed. Now I am looking on Craigslist for a guest bed. Such is life.

My Boys

My Cat Can Do Tricks!

This is the Sign You've Been Waiting For

A Day with the Girls

Making the Most of a Little Space

Our inky dinky backyard is starting to look a lot like the outdoor room I was imagining. I want to plant some horsetails against the wall and get some matching cushions for our cool Craigslist patio set (redwood table, bench and two armchairs scored for $50 last weekend). Robert actually built the flat storage bench and Mama Rock gave us the indoor/outdoor pillows in my favorite color. The cosmos growing in the back were grown from seeds and they are taking over. The bougainevilla is from Angelien, a housewarming gift. It's really actually pretty nice to see.

YOU Moved=YOUR Fault

I met a woman at a training today who talked about moving from Santa Cruz to Hollister, CA, and how no one in her family will come visit her, but once a year. Even for her birthday, she has to drive at least an hour to see her family. "You moved, so YOU messed everything up, and it's YOUR fault."

My husband and I live in a town, far, far away, where we know, at best, four people (including the lady who works at the Chinese restaurant that delivers, and even SHE probably wouldn't say she knows US). Whenever I am able, I have spent hours upon hours driving an hour to two hours each way to visit my friends. I love them. They are worth visiting. As soon as my summer opened up, my calendar was filled with playdates with those I consider my closest comrades, those who understand my unavailability during the school year and KNOW I will spend time with them in the summer. So when a friend says "it's hard for me to go there," or "we should get together sometime; when do you want to come over?" or "but you live so FAR" I wonder what it is about this situation that they feel is fair? I saw this problem with new eyes today when the woman brought up the issue of "YOU are the one that moved." She was joking, but there is truth to that, I think, at least in the way they think. I still think it's not fair, but maybe that is as far as they are going. We all remember the Friends and the Seinfeld episodes when this issue came up and characters chose their relationships based on location. The other day, a friend of mine brought up people who are somewhat selfish in their friendships who make it easy to be be "phased out" of one's life if the circumstances allow (i.e., few shared mutual friends, job changes, substantial distance). Although it sounds sad to think that friendships, even those that seem the closest at one point in our lives, can be so fleeting, I have to admit that I have even seen relationships separate because of differences in class, where some friends begin to not be able to afford to spend time with friends that live more lavish lifestyles, and resentment can drive wedges between them.

Despite, distance, there are still friends that have flown across the country to see me try on my wedding dress, friends that are down to drive an hour, baby in tow, on the spur of a moment for a Friday night dinner invite, friends that have a burning need to tsismis or tell you about their new beau, or who would be willing to drive you home, even if there was a bridge and it would cost them two hours after a late dinner, if you really needed it, and family that no matter how far apart they live, will make it, at least once a month, for a Sunday night dinner. I was blessed with all of the above this weekend, and it felt great. It made me feel worth the drive. It validated some relationships that didn't really need validating.

My brother once asked me if I thought people moved away on purpose (read: to get away). I now know it has to do with circumstance, and that it must be a two way street. You have to show people that they are worth the phone call, the drive, the email, if you want it to work and last and grow. Otherwise you will "reap what you DID NOT sow" as Mr.Garrett once said. And it's true. He's shown me. Life has shown me. I am so rambling, and I need to get outta here.

Give until it hurts. But then what after? What makes a friend "worth" the effort?

Perfection

This is the last picture my phone took before being sacrificed to the Menehune while snorkeling in Wailea. Poor phone. The plumeria looks so perfect, my sis-in-law thought it came from the ABC Store. Below is the tree it came from outside the Dolphin House where we stayed. Search Dolphin House, Maui, Kihei, on vrbo.com.

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Balikbayan gear. Times have changed.

1 Year Anniversary at Tomales Bay

Robert said this looked like an elephant's tampon. Here is my yelp.com review:

Just got back from Blue Waters Kayaking in Tomales Bay. I missed a friend's bachelorette outing here in May, and decided to try it out with my husband for our 1 year wedding anniversary.

YAY: Open double kayak for 4 hours - only $70. Relatively easy to maneuver despite very little instructions as Sarah M. stated. Made it across the bay in 30 minutes and had a great picnic (gathered goods at Tomales Bay Foods on 4th & B, Point Reyes Station. Cowgirl Creamery a must! Definitely want to go back for a CC tour. TBF opened at 10am, and we could have made it to our 11am appointment if we didn't listen to the GPS.). Max was very friendly and gave great check in service.

BOO: Despite remembering a lot from Dragonboat practice a million years ago, the instructions we received after telling BWK this was our first time left a lot to be desired. Questions I wish I had asked: Which route do you suggest for first timers for four hours (ended up paddling against current on our way back and had 1 hour left)? How do you deal with wakes? Am I holding the paddle correctly? He was a little eager to push us in after our "lesson." Here is what their site states the rental includes:

At Blue Waters Kayaking we have a large assortment of single and double sea kayaks, including closed and open deck kayaks. Included in the rental fee is an introductory kayak lesson and your equipment such as spray skirt, paddle, life vest, pump and paddle float. Open-decked kayak rentals also include a wet suit.

We didn't need anything in the way of a wetsuit because it was so nice today, but there was no pump, paddle float or whistle like Sarah M. had mentioned, so I got nervous when there was a little bit of water filling up the kayak. Still don't know what a spray skirt is.

I don't mean to complain a lot because we had an excellent time, but it would have been a little bit easier to enjoy if I had more confidence going in. But I believe in learning by doing, and I had a life vest, so how bad could it have been?

UNNECESSARY DETAILS:
No matter how nice your husband is, let the heavier person ride in front. Haha. Bless his heart. Make sure you are paddling in sync, hitting the water at the same time, and not digging too deep because you don't need to (it's not efficient!). As long as you are in sync, slow, short (toe to hip), shallow (just bury the actual paddle), rhythmic strokes are all you need. I have too many parentheticals in this post. Sorry. We got a nice baguette, two nectarines, 1/2 a Mt.Tam round of cheese, and 1/2 a salame, which Husband said looked like an elephant's tampon, from Tomales Bay Foods for our picnic. BWK gave us a dry sack to store in our kayak, along with a big bottle of water, and it fit just fine. I packed some cloth napkins and a serrated knife, and we were good. I wished we had brought something to take a nap on after we had our picnic. We'll definitely be back. I'm interested in the overnight camping trip.

View from our picnic at Tomales Bay.

Benicia 4th

Last night was a near perfect night for fireworks in Benicia. I can't believe it's been two years since R & I got engaged. Life moves fast, to quote Ferris Bueller.

I Love Livermore

Who knew there was this awesome aquatic park in Livermore. This is not your mama's public swimming pool. Lots of fun, and just 5 min from my new school.

The Will of Life

After E & I got done with manis in Berkeley at Joi Nails and Spa, and had yummy burgers at Barneys, we stumbled upon this stop sign that had a "grass hat." You could see through the holes in the pole that the grass has grown up through the concrete sidewalk, through the pole, and came out of the top. Interesting perspective. The world is quite resilient.

Our First Tomato

Our first food we planted together. "Early Girl Tomato."

First Kiss

I stared at his face...okay, Facebook, at least. Fragments of memories began rising like gold flakes spinning in a pan of water. The actual gold 14K "I Love You" pendant he folded into a note and passed to me in Ms.Lim's class. Sitting in the "hamburger" play structure with all the other "couples" at recess and daring one another to kiss. Getting mad because we were playing kickball in the cul-de-sac and I fell and scraped my knee. The first kiss. I don't even remember where it happened or when. We were ten, either in my mother's kitchen or at school. His lips I remember were red, wet, and smallish, even for a ten year old. And twenty years later, I am looking at his Facebook, only the picture is so dang small, that I can't really see him. "Add as a friend." The word friend has definitely lost its meaning here. Somewhere between, "Will you go with me?" and "I don't actually want to know you or even send a message, I just want to see your full profile," the word friend has become nebulous. And we all click "accept" or "ignore." If most relationships' transactions played out in this manner, life would be so much easier. As it were, I added, and he accepted, and B.S. and I are both happy newlyweds with our respective significant others. We both got married in our small hometown and had our receptions at the same bed and breakfast. We have no desire to know each other in the present, but only to feel connected, as if I could forget my first kiss.

*This prompt was well, prompted by my daily writing prompt on my teacher blog: http://sites.google.com/site/mrsrockenglish/

The Hard Life

I want to come back as a cat.

WB & Floral

It's true. My cat has an imaginary girlfriend. Imaginary in the sense that it is a stuffed animal, so maybe only half imaginary. Here he is settling down for a nap with her.

It's almost 3am. In 7 hours, I need to meet with my new boss. I just got back from the Old 97s at The Fillmore, and for some reason, this show was a very special one. All throughout the show, I had flashbacks of different times in my life, and the meanings of the songs really struck me in a way they haven't in the last few shows. I almost didn't want to go tonight. I'm so glad I did. I am glad that I can still appreciate that the voices and the music that carried me throughout so many times in my adult life can be experienced in the way I just experienced it. "And I'm tired of makin' friends.
And I'm tired of makin' time.
And I'm sick to death of love.
And I'm sick to death of tryin'.
And it's easier for you." I'll come back to this tomorrow. I'm very sleepy and feeling strange.

Ate's Favorite View

Bethany Beach Houses

Zuri

Zuri means "handsome" in Swahili. I think it means "pretty." The entire time I've been here, I've been annoying my sister by refering to Zuri as a girl dog. I think she should be a girl. Is it possible to reassign the gender of one's dog? Today was gorgeous. It seemed like it was 75 degrees. We opened all the windows in the house and just relaxed. My sister said it's normal to feel completely lazy when you come here. I have just wanted to read and nap all day. I am uncomfortably relaxed. I always need a healthy level of stress to make me happy. I am enjoying my time here, but also looking forward to working when I get home. I hope D's interview went well today.

Tamu Digs

I took a NAP today, and I read my book on the beach. Wow. This IS summer vacation. After running around on the beach, Tamu decided to dig a hole to cool off and rest.

Beach House in Delaware

So far we have watched 3 episodes of Leave it to Beaver. I am excited for the beach, but it is butt ass hot.

Our Drive By Tour of DC on the Way to the Airport

So I'm not good with bright light. What can I say? This is where Maryann and I used to go watch AOL Screen on the Green, though. They would show old classics at the Washington Monument and everyone would picnic. Those were good days, despite the steamy weather, the broken heart, and the broke pockets.

Nats vs. Giants & Senators Sausauges

I'm guessing they should pick a different name for this vendor. The Nats vs. Giants was great. It's a new park that lets you walk straight into the centerfield area from the Metro. It's intimate, and we sat in these not-for-sale seats under The Red Porch restaurant in centerfield. We sat next to some very friendly guys, one whose business card reads: "Starts revolutions, Governments Overthrown, Alibis Supported, Anything done in 24 hours, the impossible, slightly longer." We think he is in the mafia. Well the Giants won, and it was fun seeing other fans on the Metro. We are going to go to my sister's in-laws' beach house in Delaware today. I'm excited to go somewhere new, and just sit somewhere far away and read a book. We are going to try to meet up with Les & Oscar. Oh, and the Nats have an eagle mascot, which really freaked me out, but even more freaky was the presidential mascots. They had a giant headed, fuzzy Jefferson, Lincoln, Washington and Roosevelt. And they had them race. It was very strange. They also had cheerleaders and a Ryan Seacrest kind of host who sat behind us in the last inning and said "Shiiiiiit," when the Giants made the last out. I clapped for the Nats because I felt bad for them, especially left fielder, Mo Pena because everyone was yelling "Slow Pena" at him and saying he needed to lose weight. This is why I can't watch the World Series. I am too sensitive. I hate seeing grown men's dreams being smashed in their faces, nor can I deal with despondent faces in the dugouts. I am too much of a softie..unless it's The Dodgers. Maybe they will win the World Series. Who knows? I am guessing we are not leaving in the next seven minutes because Ate is still sleeping.

View from Section 100, Row K

DC Nationals

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I guess Husband is not good with bright light, either.

L & O's Bed @ Tabard Inn in DC

Airbrushed Mani

Flowers from Student Linda Heishan

Tulips from Larissa Delapena, Mixed Flowers from Jan Speller

Roses from E.Y.E.

My Favorite Neruda Poem

I read this at Leslie's Wedding...

Sonnet 17

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

in which there is no I or you
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand
so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close


Pablo Neruda

First Poppies

My poppies. I never understood gardening or why my mom was so crazy about it. I get it now, but I still need to work on patience. It's all I can do but to pull off the poppy pods to speed up the process.

It's Been A While

An accountant.
In Zamboanga, Philippines
40 years ago
Papang gave the land he earned,
the land he owned,
so kids living off the fruits of the land
could have access to education,
so they could have the choice of
what they wanted to be when they grew up.
Papang taught me the importance of
acccess.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

An operating room nurse.
Mom worked 12 hour days over open bodies
on operating room tables.
Her job was to fix people,
A job that didn't end when she came home.
She said, turning off the TV,
"Why are you watching TV?
Do you have straight As?
Then you could be reading a book."
I learned to love reading,
reading her bedtime stories
because she was so tired,
raising four kids on her own
while Dad was overseas.
She taught me that idle time was wasted time.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

A retired Navy officer. A maintenance man at the Berkeley post office.
My dad was gone six months at a time overseas,
supporitng his family from far away.
His gifts to me when he returned were paper.
He gave me my imagination.
He taught me I could write or draw my way
into any world I wanted.
He taught me the diginity of objects.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

A nurse. Yes, another one.
Ate lived 3,000 miles away
from her husband for 270 days
to give 24 hour care to my dying brother.
She saved his life on an airplane once.
She taught me the meaning of love.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

My sister and I pretended we were Wonderwoman
in our Wonderwoman Underoos.
She beat up people in mosh pits
to keep me from being hurt.
She was the girl that the boys at school
always gawked at.
She applied to medical school and didn't get in,
Called me crying asking, "Why am I doing this?"
She got in, studied 16 hours a day,
became chief resident,
made it to the faculty at Georgetown.
She taught me to kick open doors for yourself
because no one will open them for you.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

A financial advisor, father, husband,
my brother, who in his last days on earth,
in a fog of morphine
could call each teacher by name form kindergarten
through high school,
told me during chemo
that this cancer messed with the wrong brother.
He told me, "I am not afraid to die."
In his last breaths, he closed his eyes,
and said, "I am blessed."
He taught me that life is a luxury.
He taught me humility in my daily complaints.

I come from a family of educators.
I am NOT the only teacher in my family.

Me and Mr.Vernon

So this week, I walked the Embarcadero at twilight with Orange, an old roommate in DC and an always friend. She asked me if I felt old, I think, in regards to being a high school teacher and constantly surrounded by youth. I have come to the realization that if I were to watch The Breakfast Club, I might actually be able to see Principal Vernon's point of view.

I also witnessed the Youth Speaks preliminaries at the Filipino Community Center, and I have to say that it is actually refreshing to see youth slam. I am over adults slamming, though. That would be so 2000.

Okay, reason number 2001 that I feel old. I am working on a Saturday. Off to a conference. Possible roller skating in San Ramon later and then dinner at Straits with ALL the Danger Girls, former freshman year college roommate with whom I had a serious fall out included. Oy vey.

Eccentric

I remember sitting in Dr.Carol Christ's class at Cal in 2001 while she told us a story about Dante Gabriel Rossetti burying his poems with his dead wife as an act of love...only to later succumb to the pressure of his preraphaelite friends and exhume her body. He then published this collection. I want these poems that have slept with the dead and almost weren't. There was a time in my life when I identified with the eccentric. Growing up or growing down, I'm not sure which, but now they are more "they" than "we." Here is one poem that got him in a lot of trouble with "the establishment." They accused him of what I used to call "cheating"--writing about sex. It's already stimulating, so a poet always has the upper hand when choosing this topic. But cheating can be beautiful as shown here...

Nuptial Sleep

At length their long kiss severed with sweet smart:
And as the last slow sudden drops are shed
From sparkling eaves when all the storm has fled,
So singly flagged the pulses of each heart.
Their bosoms sundered, with the opening start
Of married flowers to either side outspread
From the knit stem; yet still their mouths, burnt red, Fawned on each other where they lay apart.

Sleep sank them lower than the tide of dreams,
And their dreams watched them sink, and slid away. Slowly their souls swam up again, through gleams
Of watered light and dull drowned waifs of day;
Till from some wonder of new woods and streams
He woke, and wondered more. For there she lay.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Stewart Ransom Miller

This photo is from http://flickr.com/photos/alientologist/173539614/sizes/m/.

I went to see Rhett Miller at The Independent on Divis last night. It was a school night. It was worth it, though. The first time I saw The Old 97s was in 2001. Just listening to the songs reminds me of different times in my life--driving in my car, blasting it, singing at the top of my lungs on long drives from Davis to home and back. Staying up late with boys and best friends. Holding on to silly vices. Thinking I was literary. The songs remind me of names, faces, feelings. This man actually saved me when I was in a bad place. I had a bad break up over what I had no idea was (just a summer fling). I would lay awake at night, thinking, (if that phone don't ring one more time) and I began to (wish the worst) for the man that broke my heart. There were times when (the mood walked like ants across our plates), and I knew it was over. I just needed someone to (untie my hands). To show me that it would get better. Well, The Old 97s didn't even do that--they showed me that I wasn't depressed. If THAT beautiful man could be THAT depressed, I had no right to be. My problems seemed quite small compared to him. I was equally distracted by the hip swinging, sweating, spitting, and the thundering train of a band behind him as well. It just made me feel good. It was really a lot like a healing of sorts. Some might say trading one obsession for another. But it got me through. What was different or interesting last night, was that I kind of took stock of how much time had passed and how this soundtrack to my life has been a constant. How the motley crue of diehard fans has changed over the years--I don't mean that they are different people now, I mean that, "Oh, there's crazy dancer girl. She looks different than the last time I saw her. There is tall guy that likes to stand in front. Oh, he has a lady friend now." When you've been to so many shows, these annoying strangers are also comforting at the same time. Then there are the random tools that show up and talk. Double you tee eff? I had to leave before the encore was through. 2001 Lisa would have spat in my face. I've changed, too.

There should be a High School Entrance Exam

At our staff development the other day, many teachers complained about being faced with trying to simultaneously teach remedial skills as well as the grade level standards. Someone joked, "There should be a high school ENTRANCE exam." I hate the CAHSEE. It is a big joke. Last year 4% of seniors in CA did not graduate because of the CAHSEE. Some would say that that is a small percentage. But looking at the percentage, I can make an educated guess that most of those students are English Language Learners. Not passing this exam can stunt a student's desire to continue learning. Drat. I have a student who I feel was mainstreamed way to early. She can't process simple words in reading or writing, but socially she is fine. Because of this she has trouble not only processing definitions, but abstract concepts like author's purpose, themes, main ideas versus supporting details, etc. All of these things that are easily grasped by other students are like climbing mountains for her. Also, her native English is not Latin based and has a completely different alphabet and grammar structure. I see the numbing level of frustration in her face when I am tutoring her. I see the days of the calendar getting closer and closer to her "last chance." She will most likely not cross the stage on graduation day. She will be among that seemingly small percentage that will not graduate. Conservative talk show hosts will scoff, "Too bad! You don't have basic skills! You don't deserve a high school diploma! You didn't try hard enough." They don't know this girl. They won't see her buckling under her tears when other students celebrate their results in front of her in my CAHSEE class. I hope this scenario doesn't repeat from last year.

Each year that passes, I can fondly remember this student or that student. The student that will always get an F, but can remember a vocabulary word of theme from a Shakespearean play we studied 3 years before. The student who always made you feel like you had a booger on your face and toilet paper stuck to your shoe and then asked to be your TA the next year. The student who came back the next year to say she wishes she had you this year and wishes you'd stay just one more year. There are so many. The student who stays after an hour to talk about a book you lent him/her. But each year, I carry around these small ghosts of students whom I felt that I failed. Not as in F. But that because my best wasn't good enough, their life suffered. People might say that that is ridiculous, that I give myself too much credit. But I can't help it. I can't say their names here, but I could tell you how beautiful they were. And they showed me parts of me I didn't know existed. And even though I may have had their numbers on day one (you're beautiful and you don't know it / you're scared so you try to scare others / you will be fine after all this even though you don't get a diploma), I can't help but keep their ghosts close and play out different scenarios even though I know the way it ended.

And the answer is...

There are positive and negative sides to having 1/2 of your immediate family members as medical professionals. One ICU/Recovering room RN, one OR RN, and a doctor. On one hand, as I have witnessed, they will bulldoze any other medical professional that stands in the way of you getting the very best care. Once a doctor was stereotyping my sister and saying she had an STI. My mom "made" him open her up and see if it was appendicitis. She was right. When my brother was in his last moments, the nurse was refusing to give him more morphine and my sister told the nurse if she didn't she would go home and get it herself and give it to him. On the other hand, my mom takes it upon herself to look up my personal information and call me every five minutes whenever I tell her there is anything wrong. Argh. So my doctor said that she would have some important test results by the end of the day for me. Then her email auto-reply says she will be out for a few days and will get back to me then. No response. Great. Frustrated.

Destroy the Teacher

Global warming exists. Is it anthropogenic or not? What does history tell us? What about the rate at which the earth is warming? What explains the dryness of last winter versus this winter? So many questions, and so many ways for opinion to skew science. Science is not always science. Like any argument, we pick and choose the facts that support what we believe. People have become so limited in accepting this duality, that few choose to stand up for anything anymore. "It depends," and "Both are true," plague classrooms and conversation. What happened to "I believe," or "I know for a fact"? The truth is, we are wiser for acknowledging our ignorance, and therefore forgiven for what we don't know. It seems like a cop out. This is an exercise in babble.

Yesterday I witnessed something beautiful in my classroom. A student actually went through the process of changing her opinion through a heated discussion. She called people out when they contradicted themselves, she was aware when she changed her mind and made note when she agreed and disagreed with others, even when she had started with a different position. It was great. And although every time the word "like" was uttered, I imagined a little *ding* going off in my head tallying them all up, I think I am beginning to understand what Whitman meant when he said, "He most honors my style who learns under it to destroy the teacher." Not that the student performs to honor the teacher, but that the teacher is most honored when she is no longer necessary and in awe of the student.

Multimedia message

This is First Wife. I call her First Wife, as she also calls me First Wife. This is a somewhat inside joke from The Joy Luck Club. You know, when she says to always remember your mother was a First Wife, an only wife, or something like that. Not just a second substandard wife of sorts. To always remember your worth. Also, it is a nickname that comes from the fact that we see each other maybe more than I see my husband because of the teacher lives we lead. Last Friday FW and I sang at our school's talent show. Besides almost having a meltdown, I think we did okay. This girl, ahem, woman, is awesome. She moved far away from home to a town where she knew no one, lives on her own, made completely brand new friends, and she is a bad ass edumacator to boot. She is amazing. To echo something Rebel4ce said, I am surrounded by amazing people. FW is no exception. She will be there to be your shoulder to cry on, to procrastinate with, to witness your weaknesses and not judge you, to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I wish her that the positive energy and love that she sends out in the world be returned to her three fold this year. It's still early. There is still for this year to bear little to no resemblance to last year. Love you, FW! How deep is your love? I really need to know.

lisamac.diaryland.com

I just saw my diaryland for the first time in years yesterday. Here 'tis for old schoolers: http://lisamac.diaryland.com/. It was funny to go back so many years in time and see what my life was like just out of college. What was important to me, where I THOUGHT I was going, what was happening in the world. All my pictures are gone because my paid account expired, but the words are there. I saw something in my old musings that I don't see in my current life.

I was more adventurous, I encountered so much more that I was able to write about. These days, when things happen to me, which I would argue, just as many extraordinary things happen to me in a day, I can't write about it because it's private, it's about my students, or it might be inappropriate. I miss my anonymity in that way.

On the otherhand, my disregard for privacy has brought me back into contact with many a long lost friend in recent years, and for that I appreciate the smallness of the world. My wedding photographer who was my sister's wedding photographer just rode to SFO from Thailand on the same plane as my brother-in-law. That's unrelated, but still, the world is small.

I subscribe to the NY Times online. "If you can make it there, you'll make it anywhere." NY, Manhattan, more specifically, might as well be Oz for me. I stayed there briefly two summers ago with my my best friend, Jeremy and his partner, RJ. I didn't "make it" there because I was merely living on my teacher's summer salary and credit cards and didn't have the stress of having to make it there. I spent at least two days of my stay locked inside their railway apartment with my face stuck to their air conditioner. On my first night, I fell down in the street drunk from drinking a few sips of a margarita. A LIFE in NY would be different. I fantasize about it, kick myself about never moving there, and it is becoming more and more the girlfriend that was too much that you loved but kicked out of the car because it was just easier and now she's getting "smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror," to quote Old 97s.

We have a 20 year deed on our house. I don't think I'll be moving to NY any time soon, but maybe it isn't that girl in the rear view mirror. Maybe it's the girl you've had a crush on for years, but haven't worked up the nerve to talk to.

This Year Feels Different

Just finished my first full week of my third "real" year of teaching although I've been at my school for a total of 4 including this year. I love my classes this year. I feel more organized, confident, and such as (my new way to end a sentence that I learned from Miss Teen USA South Carolina). I haven't felt so alive or right about what I'm doing in a long time. I remember the time I almost quit during student teaching. I kept saying, "There is nothing in me that wants to pursue this anymore." My parents told me, "Just finish. You are so close." My master teacher told me that if I quit, I'd be denying many future students a gift that I have. My husband told me that I needed to finish and then decide. One of my colleagues from my cohort said, "Really?" I muscled through. I am so glad I had the support system in place to get through. Becoming a teacher is a crazy thing. You are teaching, lesson planning and grading all at the same time while 150 lives are coming at you with full force (not to mention all the other lives attachd to them). I was going through a death in the family, working in the morning, teaching, working and then going to school at night. When I got home, I had to study, write papers, lesson plan. You have to be ready. You have to have your game face on. You have to say, "I can do anything for a limited amount of time to get to my goal." Now I look back and almost can't appreciate how hard it was. I think that that person that got me to where I am today was a big baby and it wasn't so tough, and I kick myself for thinking that I almost gave up. I'm glad I didn't. And I can't wait to become better and learn more and have more challenges. So that in four years after that point in my life, I can say, "Ya big baby!" Here's to this year.

View of BART from Classroom

A commuting teacher's dream

Ikea Baby. $3 Sheets

Here we have college info, class agendas & homework, and my useless magnet collection. Note purple bathroom pass and Mrs.Rock's contact info. Welcome to Room 27, Rockefeller Scholars!

Birthday Wall

Perhaps it's because it's always winter in SSF,that many students did not know the seasons in which they were born.

Ooooooh!

Who needs a smartboard?

Helpful Websites for Students

http://www.collegeboard.com/ For SAT and College Information
http://www.tutor.com/ Live Online Tutors via Chat
http://www.csuenglishsuccess.org/students_esw Prevent College Freshman Remediation

What do you think he is saying?

Cats get writer's block, too.