I am increasingly plagued with senioritis as each day passes. This is the last week of my current class on International Accounting; I have found this class interesting on one or two brief occasions. Apart from those collective five minutes, it's been one big snoozefest. I have one last class on Internal Controls and I will be D.O.N.E. with my program mid-December. SWEET!!!
So, in typical fashion, my mind is looking ahead. As I've previously discussed, I have tinkered with the idea of getting back in the classroom. While looking on Rockwall ISD's employment opportunities (looking for open High School business teaching positions), I saw they had a staff accountant position available. I was stoked!! In my best judgement, this would be ideal for me and my family. I would still be serving teachers, administrators, and ultimately the students, AND I would get to use my newfound set of skills. It would provide many of the additional days off that teachers enjoy and would allow me to leave the office before 5:00pm daily. It paid well, and I seemed to meet the minimum qualifications. You better bet that I knocked out that application, resume, and letter of intent as fast as my little fingers could fill them out.
And then all that was left to do was wait...
So, I waited...
And I stopped by to introduce myself but was too late to speak with anyone for the day.
I waited...
And waited...
And stopped by again and found out I couldn't "drop in" on the office making the decisions. Boo. So I called and left a voicemail.
And waited...
And then I got an email back. But it was one of those emails that tells you from the very first line that it isn't the news that you wanted to hear. "Dear Ms. Sprang... thank you... BUT..."
It would be a lie for me to say I am not disappointed. Or that the tapes in my head aren't cued and ready to start playing the "you weren't qualified"... "you were too late" ... "someone out there is better than you"... mantras that have played like broken records in not-so-long-ago times.
I had a conversation with a dear friend of mine. And while we were talking - before I found anything out regarding the status of my application - she told me that if this isn't the job for me (as perfect as it seemed), then something out there, even better-suited for me and my family, would come along.
Waiting is hard. It requires trust. And patience.
So, God, help me today. Help me in this time of waiting. My humanly desires want to go on the job-hunt...want to search for all the answers...want to make something happen. And my wounded ego wants to each a bowl full of creamy pasta and chase it with a big ole slice of chocolate cake with ice cream to ease the sting of disappointment. But I know that I'll only end up being more disappointed in myself.
Help me as I wait.
Let me find You in the waiting.
And help my heart grasp what my head knows: You got this.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Monday, October 13, 2014
It won't last forever
I have had moments of sheer and utter weariness while being a mom to both of my boys.
When Jacob - our oldest - was only months old, he was waking every two hours, round the clock. I was baffled...and exhausted. Frustrated that we couldn't seem to figure out why he wasn't sleeping, we tried a sound machine. We tried a bassinet. We tried putting him down in his crib. We swaddled. We unswaddled. Put him on his back. Put him on his side. We thought it may be acid reflux. We tried so many different things to get that boy to sleep. It was miserable and felt like it would last F...O...R...E...V...E...R.
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Jacob has always been an extremely busy boy. Curious and bubbly, he is often rambunctious and easily excited. While it is fun to watch him discover, explore, and enjoy the fun of whatever he is experiencing, it was especially tiring when he was in the throws of toddler-hood. He was a barrel of difficult-to-contain (and restrain) energy.
_____________________________________________________
Eventually, and somewhat accidentally, we figured out that Jacob wasn't sleeping because he was hungry. Initially I felt so guilty and inadequate. I somehow felt that it was my fault that I couldn't provide for him. However, once we got that tummy full, that boy turned into a sleeping machine. I mean like 7:00 p.m. -7:00 a.m. plus two 90-minute naps every day.
_____________________________________________________
Today I took Jacob in for his 4-year checkup. Jacob wanted me to read him a book while we waited in the patient waiting room. He sat so sweetly and calmly as I read him a riveting installment of Spiderman versus Electro. As we finished up the words of the last page, in movie-perfect timing, they called his name. They weighed him (50 pounds!), measured his height (44 inches!), and we waited in the exam room for the pediatrician. He quietly asked if he could play the "Bible Game" on my phone. And then asked if he could sit in my lap.
And it occurred to me just how fast my first baby was growing up. How proud of this sweet boy I was. I am. How much we've been through. How much I've not only learned about him but about myself in the process.
It would be dishonest of me to say that I've never had moments where I wished the difficulty would pass. If we could just fast-forward.
But I think about what I would have lost in the process.
But I think about what I would have lost in the process.
_____________________________________________________
In Zeke's first few months, acid reflux and food intolerances brought even more sleeplessness. I prayed many a night in desperation for God to soothe my baby since my attempts were just not working. And while it took some time for the medicine and dietary changes to kick in, Zeke's tummy began to heal and relief spread throughout our house.
But one thing was different this time: I knew it wouldn't last forever.
So, now as Zeke is entering full-blown toddler-hood and proving to be just as active (and feisty and dare-devilish) as Jacob, I again have a comfort that I didn't have the first time: this difficult stage will not last forever.
I will blink and my Squeaker Zekers will be a 4-year-old, speaking in full sentences, sitting in my lap for an entire story, and able to dress himself from head to toe.
It's such a poignant mix of emotions, really. Taking heart that the challenging stages will pass. And savoring those sweet, priceless, precious moments.
Because they will not last forever.
Because they will not last forever.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
A Series of Milestones
*Spoiler Alert*
I am getting ready to talk about an ending moment from the movie, "Boyhood." Consider yourself warned.
Recently Jonathan and I snuck away for a day date. It was fabulous. We ventured to a fun taco joint in Mockingbird Station, had some Pinkberry fro-yo, and caught the movie "Boyhood." I was so taken with the premise of the film: they literally filmed a fictional story over the course of twelve years. So we, the audience, got to watch a 5-year-old little boy over the course of those years literally grow up. What most grabbed my attention, though, was the mother in the film. Near the end of the movie, she is sitting in the kitchen while her son finishes up packing for college. He walks in to find her upset as she relives the big milestones of her life: growing up, falling in love, having children, going back to college, getting a great job, both of her children have graduated high school and are venturing off on their own. She is upset because the only big milestone left is death.
This morning, I finished listening to "Despair & Hope," one of JR. Forasteros' podcast episodes from his "What's the Big Idea" class. Awesome class, by the way. He chronicles the movie "About Schmidt" and the central character's end-life crisis as he realizes that the American Dream he has spent his whole life seeking, was for naught. Landing a great job. Working hard for countless years to earn a good living. Retiring comfortably. But what difference has this life - his life - made?
These two scenarios are grabbing me at the gut-level right now because I feel a change is on the horizon. I will graduate with masters in just a few more weeks (hooray!). While I am feeling especially primed and ready to re-enter the "workforce," I am feeling the tension of what to do. Should I take an office job to get some experience in my new field? Is that experience ultimately necessary, though, if my goal is to return to the classroom?
Even deeper, though, is that I am being reminded of the best way to live.
I am a task-oriented individual, and I often view life as a series of checklists. Being a stay-at-home mom has helped with this; it is fruitless to check off "changing a dirty diaper" or "picking up toys" when these things will need done before I can find my misplaced list. While I watched "Boyhood," and listened to the mother revisiting her list of checked-off milestones, I saw myself in that mother.
I could easily be sitting in that chair in 15 more years.
And it rocked me.
I want my life to mean something more. And I want to be intentional about enjoying all of life's precious and beautiful moments. Not only the fleeting feeling of accomplishment - or the weight of the self-induced stress - that accompany those checked-off boxes.
I am getting ready to talk about an ending moment from the movie, "Boyhood." Consider yourself warned.
Recently Jonathan and I snuck away for a day date. It was fabulous. We ventured to a fun taco joint in Mockingbird Station, had some Pinkberry fro-yo, and caught the movie "Boyhood." I was so taken with the premise of the film: they literally filmed a fictional story over the course of twelve years. So we, the audience, got to watch a 5-year-old little boy over the course of those years literally grow up. What most grabbed my attention, though, was the mother in the film. Near the end of the movie, she is sitting in the kitchen while her son finishes up packing for college. He walks in to find her upset as she relives the big milestones of her life: growing up, falling in love, having children, going back to college, getting a great job, both of her children have graduated high school and are venturing off on their own. She is upset because the only big milestone left is death.
This morning, I finished listening to "Despair & Hope," one of JR. Forasteros' podcast episodes from his "What's the Big Idea" class. Awesome class, by the way. He chronicles the movie "About Schmidt" and the central character's end-life crisis as he realizes that the American Dream he has spent his whole life seeking, was for naught. Landing a great job. Working hard for countless years to earn a good living. Retiring comfortably. But what difference has this life - his life - made?
These two scenarios are grabbing me at the gut-level right now because I feel a change is on the horizon. I will graduate with masters in just a few more weeks (hooray!). While I am feeling especially primed and ready to re-enter the "workforce," I am feeling the tension of what to do. Should I take an office job to get some experience in my new field? Is that experience ultimately necessary, though, if my goal is to return to the classroom?
Even deeper, though, is that I am being reminded of the best way to live.
I am a task-oriented individual, and I often view life as a series of checklists. Being a stay-at-home mom has helped with this; it is fruitless to check off "changing a dirty diaper" or "picking up toys" when these things will need done before I can find my misplaced list. While I watched "Boyhood," and listened to the mother revisiting her list of checked-off milestones, I saw myself in that mother.
I could easily be sitting in that chair in 15 more years.
And it rocked me.
I want my life to mean something more. And I want to be intentional about enjoying all of life's precious and beautiful moments. Not only the fleeting feeling of accomplishment - or the weight of the self-induced stress - that accompany those checked-off boxes.
Friday, October 3, 2014
It's Been a Long Time, Old Friend
This is one of my favorite phrases to use when talking about food. If I haven't had a Pappadeaux shrimp po-boy or piece of Oreo delight in some time, it is not uncommon for me to take a bite and follow it up with a deep sigh and, "it's been a long time, old friend." The problem, though, is my friendship with food. While I take great pleasure in food, it was never intended to be my friend.
It should not be where I turn for comfort.
It should not be where I look to find the answer to my boredom.
It should not - because it cannot - ease the sting of disappointment or be the cure for my worry.
It never satisfies any of those needs. And, in fact, leaves me feeling worse than before.
I have a long history, though, with emotional eating. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the cycle of overindulgence...which leads to shame...which leads to overindulgence...which leads to more shame...
I jokingly said to a friend the other day that my muffin top has gotten really out of control and has graduated to cupcake top. I have gained and lost the same, stupid five pounds at least 4 or 5 times in the last six months.
And so I am making a New Years' resolution a bit early this year. Whenever I feel the need to soothe my soul with ice cream or chips or whatever the vittley-vice of the evening may be, I will sit down first. I will write about those feelings, perhaps publicly or maybe just privately. Maybe I will still have a bite of chocolate after reflecting. My hope, though, is that I will be more introspective. More deliberate. And that patterns of unhealthy behavior I have developed over the span of three decades will begin to change.
I love to write but saw the date of my last blog (2012); I was amazed that I have not written for pleasure in over 2 years. I'm excited about exploring this side of myself again. It's time to create.
It's been a long time, old friend.
It should not be where I turn for comfort.
It should not be where I look to find the answer to my boredom.
It should not - because it cannot - ease the sting of disappointment or be the cure for my worry.
It never satisfies any of those needs. And, in fact, leaves me feeling worse than before.
I have a long history, though, with emotional eating. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the cycle of overindulgence...which leads to shame...which leads to overindulgence...which leads to more shame...
I jokingly said to a friend the other day that my muffin top has gotten really out of control and has graduated to cupcake top. I have gained and lost the same, stupid five pounds at least 4 or 5 times in the last six months.
And so I am making a New Years' resolution a bit early this year. Whenever I feel the need to soothe my soul with ice cream or chips or whatever the vittley-vice of the evening may be, I will sit down first. I will write about those feelings, perhaps publicly or maybe just privately. Maybe I will still have a bite of chocolate after reflecting. My hope, though, is that I will be more introspective. More deliberate. And that patterns of unhealthy behavior I have developed over the span of three decades will begin to change.
I love to write but saw the date of my last blog (2012); I was amazed that I have not written for pleasure in over 2 years. I'm excited about exploring this side of myself again. It's time to create.
It's been a long time, old friend.
Friday, June 1, 2012
They're baaaaaaack!
Where did this month go?
[cue recap]
From about the middle of April to the middle of May, we were grossly preoccupied, emphasis on the syllable GROSS, with potty training. My previous post "The Potty, Conquered" was, indeed, prematurely titled. While Jakey was able to make both liquid and solid deposits in his potty, it was still only with the potty bell's reminding... and even then some days were [cue pun] hit or miss. After a few days filled with accidents in the Chickfila tunnel and puddles on restaurant floors, we decided to bring back our old friends: the diapers [cue rejoicing]. I have no remorse WHATSOEVER. While I am confident successful training will happen, I am positive that now was not the prime time. The list of wonderful things that have returned along with the diapers include but are not limited to household-wide sanity, relaxed multi-hour outings including meet-ups with friends and relatives, LONG naps for Jacob and later mornings for all of us, LESS laundry even though we use cloth diapers, freedom from the 20-minute timer... I could go on but that really seems to encompass all the biggies.
So I feel like in these last two weeks I have rejoined humanity [cue huge sigh].
Other notable May happenings:
[cue recap]
From about the middle of April to the middle of May, we were grossly preoccupied, emphasis on the syllable GROSS, with potty training. My previous post "The Potty, Conquered" was, indeed, prematurely titled. While Jakey was able to make both liquid and solid deposits in his potty, it was still only with the potty bell's reminding... and even then some days were [cue pun] hit or miss. After a few days filled with accidents in the Chickfila tunnel and puddles on restaurant floors, we decided to bring back our old friends: the diapers [cue rejoicing]. I have no remorse WHATSOEVER. While I am confident successful training will happen, I am positive that now was not the prime time. The list of wonderful things that have returned along with the diapers include but are not limited to household-wide sanity, relaxed multi-hour outings including meet-ups with friends and relatives, LONG naps for Jacob and later mornings for all of us, LESS laundry even though we use cloth diapers, freedom from the 20-minute timer... I could go on but that really seems to encompass all the biggies.
So I feel like in these last two weeks I have rejoined humanity [cue huge sigh].
Other notable May happenings:
- a Ferrer visit! Got to spend some fun times with my sis and her familia along with my parents and grandparents to celebrate an early Mother's Day, my Dad's birthday and Jonathan's belated birthday. Super-thankful and blessed that even though they aren't 15 minutes away any more, they are close enough that we can have long weekends!
- an awesome Abacu5 show at the Curtain Club in Dallas. So proud of Jonathan. And special thanks for unexpectedly free childcare from a sweet friend!
- my first recital for my piano and voice students. So proud of my kiddos! They all did so well and I feel so blessed for the opportunity to work with each of them and watch them as they grow and progress!
- an old friend from North Carolina is traveling the US this summer, and he stayed with us for a week. It was great to catch up and hear how life is going for him. While he was hear we shared some great conversation, ate some good food, visited the McKinney farmers market (fun place!) and went to see Dave Matthews.
- Jacob's vocabulary is growing like crazy. I can no longer list out all of the words he is able to say. He continues to bring such delight, laughter and amazement to our house every day. Additionally, he is able to throw overhand, jump, sing familiar songs like "How He Loves" and the Muppets "Mah Na Mah Na," and drum keeping different steady rhythms at the same time. Love that boy so much and am so proud of him!
Sunday, April 29, 2012
The Potty, Conquered
So, about a month ago I finished reading "Toilet Training without Tantrums" by one of my favorite parenting authors, John Rosemond. I take the time to delve much into the book but will say he advises to toilet train between the ages of 18-24 months. Of course in my mind, we had to jump on this since Jacob was already 19 months - gasp! (what is wrong with me??)
On April 17th, we banished all diapers. And for the past 2 weeks off and on there has been lots of craziness from mommy and plenty of bare-bottom time for Jakey. Last Sunday we started using the potty-bell, a timer that goes off every 15 minutes or so to remind lil j to sit on his potty. Getting him to sit there for more than 2-3 seconds was the first challenge. Getting him to make the connection that he was supposed to deposit something into the potty chair was the next. This past Friday, however, he really started to grasp the potty's purpose and yesterday he showed the potty who was boss!
I am proud to announce that in the past 30 hours we have only had 1 accident! (bedtime wetting not included - that will come later) We even ventured to Catalyst today and he rocked that potty! I was so proud. And so relieved that we now have freedom to get out of this house. The next challenge: helping him find a way to communicate to me he has to go. That will come though. I'm not worried.
In retrospect, I should've waited a few more months. I don't know why I get these crazy ideas in my head and then get so dead-set on doing what I've set out to do. Stubborn. It would've been easier to wait, especially since communication has been such an issue for us in this process. While these 12 days have been some of the longest in my life, they have been worth it. I know it is not necessarily all smooth sailing from here. I'm certain we will have our share of "oops" and "uh-ohs."
But I am so extremely proud of my son. He is truly amazing. And, together, we have conquered the potty!
On April 17th, we banished all diapers. And for the past 2 weeks off and on there has been lots of craziness from mommy and plenty of bare-bottom time for Jakey. Last Sunday we started using the potty-bell, a timer that goes off every 15 minutes or so to remind lil j to sit on his potty. Getting him to sit there for more than 2-3 seconds was the first challenge. Getting him to make the connection that he was supposed to deposit something into the potty chair was the next. This past Friday, however, he really started to grasp the potty's purpose and yesterday he showed the potty who was boss!
I am proud to announce that in the past 30 hours we have only had 1 accident! (bedtime wetting not included - that will come later) We even ventured to Catalyst today and he rocked that potty! I was so proud. And so relieved that we now have freedom to get out of this house. The next challenge: helping him find a way to communicate to me he has to go. That will come though. I'm not worried.
In retrospect, I should've waited a few more months. I don't know why I get these crazy ideas in my head and then get so dead-set on doing what I've set out to do. Stubborn. It would've been easier to wait, especially since communication has been such an issue for us in this process. While these 12 days have been some of the longest in my life, they have been worth it. I know it is not necessarily all smooth sailing from here. I'm certain we will have our share of "oops" and "uh-ohs."
But I am so extremely proud of my son. He is truly amazing. And, together, we have conquered the potty!
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
He ate what??
We went to storytime at the library for the first time today. Super fun and we're definitely going to need to add that into our routine! It was fun seeing friends from Catalyst there, too. So we were getting ready to leave and we're saying our goodbyes to the teacher, Kathy, and she mentions that Jacob looks sleepy...which he does...but he shouldn't because he slept from 7:00 p.m. - 7:30 a.m. and it was only 11:15 a.m.
We're driving home and I notice he just looks plain delirious! We get home, I handcraft an English muffin pizza on a plate - I'm so excited because he should just love this lunch! - and what does he do? Pushes it away without even taking a bite. What? Weird...I take his plate, brush his face with my hand and he feels warm. Take his temp and it's 101.2... ugh! Grammie & DiDaddy are coming from Florida tomorrow and the last two times they've come to visit we've passed around the yuckies - we can't be doing this again! So I put him to bed and hope that when he wakes up, he will magically be all better.
Three hours later...
He wakes up crying. Not a good sign. I walk in and he has big, crocodile tears running down his face and is sweating. Maybe the fever has broken? Nope... still a low-grade fever... Maybe he wants a drink. Yep! Drains his cup dry. Maybe he's hungry now? Nope, still not hungry... Ugh. We watch a little Sesame Street and then head to Nana and Poppie's for our farewell Ferrer dinner (sidenote: they close on their house tomorrow! SOOOOO glad for them... so sad for us, but again - so very happy their family will be reunited and living under one roof again!).
On our way over, Jacob is miserable. He whimpers a few times along the way. We're almost to their house and he starts full-on crying. If you know this kid, you know what a high pain tolerance he has. He must be feeling AWFUL. So I pull over, give him some ibuprofen and take his temp... still a low-grade fever.
We get to their house; Daddy takes him out of the van, and we go inside. I help Mom get things going for dinner and she wonders if perhaps his two-year molars are coming in early? Good point... he's gotten all of his other teeth way ahead of schedule! So I walk over to the couch where Jacob is sitting on Jonathan's lap watching tv (again, if you know this boy, you know sitting still is not the norm for him), take out his paci and stick my finger in his mouth.
Oh.
My.
Goodness.
Cue projectile vomiting.
And it keeps going
and going
and going.
Along with the multitude of juice came a wet wipe.
What? A wet wipe? He ate a wet wipe?
How did he not choke on it going down? How did he not choke on it coming back up? When did he eat that? How did he get it?
Well, as for answers to any of these questions, I have no clue. But I am super-thankful that this cottony cloth didn't get lodged in his airway or in his intestines!!! Wow. Grateful, shocked, relieved.
So one more layer of crazy... our dog, Tiger, also has an affinity for wet wipe consumption. In fact, I awoke to him 2 nights ago heaving, hacking and puking up one of these himself.
Jacob, no more lessons from the dog, please!
We're driving home and I notice he just looks plain delirious! We get home, I handcraft an English muffin pizza on a plate - I'm so excited because he should just love this lunch! - and what does he do? Pushes it away without even taking a bite. What? Weird...I take his plate, brush his face with my hand and he feels warm. Take his temp and it's 101.2... ugh! Grammie & DiDaddy are coming from Florida tomorrow and the last two times they've come to visit we've passed around the yuckies - we can't be doing this again! So I put him to bed and hope that when he wakes up, he will magically be all better.
Three hours later...
He wakes up crying. Not a good sign. I walk in and he has big, crocodile tears running down his face and is sweating. Maybe the fever has broken? Nope... still a low-grade fever... Maybe he wants a drink. Yep! Drains his cup dry. Maybe he's hungry now? Nope, still not hungry... Ugh. We watch a little Sesame Street and then head to Nana and Poppie's for our farewell Ferrer dinner (sidenote: they close on their house tomorrow! SOOOOO glad for them... so sad for us, but again - so very happy their family will be reunited and living under one roof again!).
On our way over, Jacob is miserable. He whimpers a few times along the way. We're almost to their house and he starts full-on crying. If you know this kid, you know what a high pain tolerance he has. He must be feeling AWFUL. So I pull over, give him some ibuprofen and take his temp... still a low-grade fever.
We get to their house; Daddy takes him out of the van, and we go inside. I help Mom get things going for dinner and she wonders if perhaps his two-year molars are coming in early? Good point... he's gotten all of his other teeth way ahead of schedule! So I walk over to the couch where Jacob is sitting on Jonathan's lap watching tv (again, if you know this boy, you know sitting still is not the norm for him), take out his paci and stick my finger in his mouth.
Oh.
My.
Goodness.
Cue projectile vomiting.
And it keeps going
and going
and going.
Along with the multitude of juice came a wet wipe.
What? A wet wipe? He ate a wet wipe?
How did he not choke on it going down? How did he not choke on it coming back up? When did he eat that? How did he get it?
Well, as for answers to any of these questions, I have no clue. But I am super-thankful that this cottony cloth didn't get lodged in his airway or in his intestines!!! Wow. Grateful, shocked, relieved.
So one more layer of crazy... our dog, Tiger, also has an affinity for wet wipe consumption. In fact, I awoke to him 2 nights ago heaving, hacking and puking up one of these himself.
Jacob, no more lessons from the dog, please!
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