Posted on in essay, family, granparent life, humor, life, sixty

The Claw Can Lose!

The first haul from the claw!

Going to an arcade with a five-year-old is a blast. As a grandparent you cherish the smiles, the firsts, the games you choose and do not choose to play. You do, however, just because you are a grandparent and let’s face it this is more fun than parenthood. Truth. Even better is the fact that my nugget outsmarted the claw four times over. Yes, the impossible claw, that my husband and I swore to our own son, “the claw always wins.” We were cheap. Well, with the nugget, who cares. This is our third or fourth trip. I stayed with the mantra, but dad gave in… well, toys came out galore. “Grandma, I won. I beat the claw.” Of course, this is really the first time I have seen anyone win at the claw, so I was overjoyed and yes, we continued to play. Why not? Yes, there is more loot (one stuffed item for all) as he shares nicely. The Kermit like figure, is my gift from my grandson, which I will cherish. All $50.00 of him! A grandparent’s time is pricey but well worth it, as parents, usually cannot do what we can due to just life being expensive. It is our time. I never did arcades with our son. Never, but the nugget, after reading me a book gets the moon and I get the love of Kermitish.

Kermitish

The Kermitish, will be my forever. It was the combination of the sharing, the excitement, and just the enjoyment of the day. Nugget laughed at the name. I would as well, it is goofy. But so is an arcade and an after delight of a kid’s movie in a fancy theater. These days are precious, and they are coupled with the delight of reading, watching him tie shoes. Almost. Helping me pick out a Halloween costume (Blues Clue) down to the tights and ears. Since it was cost effective, and it made him happy, why not? No reason, sans my dignity but it for a school function. I lost any sanity and sense of costume style long ago. So, while the claw can lose, news to me, grandparents who put in the time, a few bucks, and plans for the years ahead to share in their lives, will never. That to me is the adventure, I will gladly continue to take, as long as Kermitish can come along for the ride, and he will. In the arcade I had an epiphany. Odd, yes. But it was the consistent flashing lights that brought on an idea he will never forget. Wherever we travel so will the Kerm, sort of like Flat Stanely, with postcards, journals, and of course pictures of grandma and grandpa (unwillingly) and the Kerm, wherever we go. So today, while was just a small adventure in an arcade and the viewing of a movie became so much more. It was compassion, sharing, beating the claw, and having a grandma make it into a lifetime of memories for all of us, especially the Kermitish because he thought his life would be inside a bubble, but now he will see the world. Eventually.

Posted on in family

In Respect…

For years I have felt like a Jew wannabe. Born a Jew but only practiced at a young age, learned a bit of Hebrew and the Yiddish words often tossed around my grandparents home. But never quite a full fledged Jew. There were complications. My father’s side was Catholic, and if I wanted a wedding, a Catholic I would become. I have never felt at home. The hubs is Methodist, and I would not change him. He would but it would cause chaos. Why bother. I knew my grandparents genes would pass onward to my son. I was happy. He would have the heritage. That’s all I can hope for in my life.

I stare at my Star of David only to take it out and feel like a fraud, if I wear it, but I am not. I should wear it with the pride I feel, not innate knowledge, but pride of a people who suffered and continue to suffer for years to come. My grandmothers friends were holocaust survivors, they played Mahjongg and talked of the good times and the times of terror. They talked to me in mixed languages of their homeland and a Hebrew/Yiddish mix. I loved them.

I will never be a devout or even practicing Jew. But these days of terror reminds me of what my Grandparents always said, “Be proud of who you are, and let no one change you, or let them think you are less than them.” I realized tonight, I let them down, not understanding that I can celebrate my heritage forever to carry-on their memory and the memory of those in my life that have touched me beyond any religion. It is who I am, who I have always been, but was afraid to let it be known, because I was not devout in faith. My star, which I will now proudly wear represents so much more. It is life, struggle, my heritage, and my love for them as they weep from above for their Israel and their adopted United States.

Posted on in #teacher, education, essay

Columbus Day = A Week

Sorry Columbus, but our week off (Fall Break) has nothing to do with you finding the New World. In fact some no longer celebrate your deeds. That is another story. Today, my writing celebrates my confusion of a week off in the middle of a school year. We just started! I have never understood this week off for teachers. Never. I gladly participate in this new age holiday of sorts. But why do we have four weeks off before the beginning of our third quarter? There are no answers as we have only been in school nine weeks. But we gladly take it. Does this impede family vacations and day care? Probably. Does this hurt the educational dynamic of our students? Eh. No data to tell. So we carry on.

So, what do teachers do with their time. Well, those with little ones, they enjoy, and I am constantly jealous, as I loved any time off with my kid, now adult. For those in the latter part of our careers we probably don’t do big travels if we are prepping for retirement. We organize, sleep, workout, etc. We stay busy and enjoy the solitude and ability to go to the bathroom on command. We recharge. If you are over fifty teaching becomes increasingly demanding and we need to reset the batteries, that are so badly drained, from their constant powering level of being ON, ON, ON for everyone at all times. While, I am still on empty, I am at least to the stage that only one nap is needed a day. My first day home, I woke up at 4:00pm and went to bed by 9:00pm.

Today, I am wearing make-up, a chic all black lululemon dupe, and checking off my lists and creating Christmas lists. This teacher budgets and shops from October onward. I am just getting things done for a happy organized home ready for fall, without having to leave the house. I am not ready for the real world, perhaps tomorrow. Maybe. I have time.

Posted on in book, essay, goals, humor, life, Real Housewives

Nothing

I got nothing but a picture of my hubs on a Willy Jeep. I have sat in front of my computer and/or phone to write, something. Anything. I got nothing but lists of ideas that go nowhere. None are informative or entertaining. Just nothing.

It’s called a drought. I blame this on the book that is completed, in a rough first draft, that I am not ready to go back into it to finish the final draft. Why? Well, after the final draft it goes to a million of my close friends to rip apart. Lovely. But necessary. Not ready. It is a hurdle in which you need to wear your big girls panties and muddle through everyones thoughts. It sucks. However, it is growth and gives innate confidence that makes you feel like you were just cast for a RHONY. Ok. probably just me, but if you watch this Bravo series these ladies are confidence central. I don’t live in NYC, hate the cold, and my mortgage would get me a 500 sq ft studio. So, there’s that. But I love RHONY.

So onward, with these rambling thoughts, and the baby steps I take to create the final copy and a blog with something.

Posted on in anxiety, education, family, health, life, sixty

Subtract Not Add

I went through one of the best first weeks of school purely absorbed by outlying tasks, chores, stuff. Some money-making opportunities others just life. My mind not on the focus of kids but a running to-do list that gave me an inner click when every task was complete. I was miserable and less accomplished, as I was worried about tommorow, the next schedule, how I could get home quicker to review turtoring lessons before I zoomed away. I can’t. Literally can’t. With every tick off the list, another appeared with the only loss column items becoming my family.

My need to add is a stuffing mechanism to keep busy, not focus on the reality of a painful past, and so I do not look at the alternative. Retirement. Creepy. An elderly life, and the unknown. But the more I stuff into the hours of the day and night, the more I lose out in life.

So I am going to keep subtracting and focusing on my present, my daily blessings of students, and my family before I blink and it becomes a memory of long ago. Will I retire. No. Stop trying to do everything for the sake of a couple bucks. Yes.

Posted on in dog training, german shephards, humor

I Smell Like Bacon and Other Dog Realities…

When it is blazing hot we take fun inside. But today we worked. I took the entire day to train one command. My training titles are a tad different from the traditional dog blogs. Why, I am not a trainer, just a GSD mom, who is in over her head. I trained every hour on the hour for ten minutes. My command. Get off my effing lap. Now, she is a jumper, because she is a dog, but she is seventy pounds and my height. It ain’t cute. It was my first order of business and unless super thrilled or overly crazy, she no longer jumps on me as I stroll through my air conditioned sanctuary and our makeshift training grounds. Now, she is not a food girl. But I found her weakness bacon treats. Disgusting. Little tiny preshaped bones, are her version of cavier and because I am cheap and do not want a chubby pup. I break them up to almost a powder form that she licks with delight. I now smell like prefabricated bacon.

We worked from chair to chair in my house. Of course with both pups, because the other one is well a follower, and while he would never jump, he thinks he is working. Not so bright. Loving. But. He enjoys short walks, a bone, and getting brushed. She is killing me. All day she was amazing. I thought I had this off my to do list before school resumes. Nope. At the end of the night, up she came again and this time sat on my lap to watch TV. That little b**** . Literally. I ignored her as the experts say to ignore. I got up (interesting maneuver) and walked away, again the experts wise expertise. I sat in another chair and called her over and I gave her love when all paws were down, if one paw came up for a cute look at me, it was a stern stare, a hand before her face and a NO, a quiet one. This was my call. We did this in every chair with the added bacon. She did not jump. I brought her back to reality and put her to bed. She is truly more tired than I am. She knows she met her match. But she will test again and again and again. Until she gets that it is a hard no, or until I permanently smell like bacon. As for her buddy he got brushed ate a nice rawhide bone and was happy.

Posted on in education, essay, humor

Dripping With Kids

The advantages to starting school on the first week of August in Arizona are non-existent. Zero. Zilch. Nada. I have done this for twenty-eight years. While my first year picture (cover shot) looks cool and comfy, that is due to a bundle of makeup, and washing my face fifteen minutes before the photo shoot, of sorts. Or the stand, turn to the left. No too much, to the right. Perfect. Smile. Next, nightmare. It is hot, humid, and we drip in sweat as most of air conditioning in our building is a tad on the older side. In every building. If you want me I am in the hot room.

So I melt. I am assigned to little to no makeup with a cute dress, preferably with pockets, and practical shoes. It’s a messy look. But I can spot an August teacher out in the wild in seconds. We all look the same as we toss real fashion out the window to survive the mileage we walk combined with our consistent state of heat. August stinks. Literally.

So, the pre-fall attire is best found in the cheapest stores. I consider it more disposable fashion. Now, a few of my pieces I love and are keepers, due to style, price, and quality. But bring on the big box stores and dupe fashion. If a piece is cool enough to get me through this period of time and has enough copy of fashion sense. I have bought it, in triplicate. This year very into the flowy dress, dignified menswear, and linen galore. Also, stepped up my shoe game with retro sneakers. All the rage and at sixty cool shoes are a must.

As we head into the starting gates. I am already wishing for October, for overall comfort and the ability to wear pieces that won’t target me as a teacher the moment I step outside of the classroom and allow me to wear makeup that won’t drip down my face, and to the release of the holiday trio of delights. The cardigan, the light turtleneck, and sometimes a coat. Well, more of a jacket. This is Arizona.

Posted on in german shephards

Scheduling A Dog’s Life

Dogs, are like children and German Shepherds, while wonderful, are high maintenance. During our summer training, part of my role, is setting up a fall schedule, for my working days. They are not the walk, eat, sleep type of dogs. So, today after our walks, I finalized the schedule, after including longer walks, puzzels, and two training sessions per day. I am no expert, but finally we only had two larger barking sessions towards the little dogs, and nice inside play with toys instead of biting each others ears. So while tomorrow is another day, going to stick to this schedule. Make tweaks as necessary and get ready for the fall.

The Night Before:

1. Set up dog puzzels and ice blocks

2. Set up my lunch. Yes. Me.

3. Set up protein shake and coffee, still me.

The daily work:

5:00am

1. Walk Coco

5:45am

2. Walk King

6:15am

3. Set up breakfast for dogs and make my coffee and shake for school.

4. Dogs complete puzzels. Takes less than two minutes.

5. We train or “work.” Five to ten minutes.

6:35am

6. Dogs eat breakfast and go out

7:10am

7. Set crate or play area with one indestructible puzzel for each pup.

Leave no later than 715am showered and with makeup.

4:00pm/home

1. Peanut butter mats

2. Train

3. Ride my peloton

5:00pm

1. Set up dinner their dinner

2. Floors

3. Set up morning

5:20pm

1. Eat and play

7:00pm

1. Short walk, dinner for adults, collapse and repeat.

The only way to keep the house intact, dogs loved, and the adults fed is to stay tight on the schedule. One day the list will mellow as they age and while I will be relieved, I will be a bit saddened.

Posted on in family, german shephards, life, sixty

Nothing But Love

There were things I did today. Yes, but there was also alot of nothing. Silence. Occasional thoughts. Not many. Just sitting and watching stupid TV, a summer goal, and live with my thoughts that have been relatively reflective on a life level. Between just normal life, training our furry friends and introducing them into their new lives. I can’t help but think about my former life, as a young mom, and draw comparisons to my current summer life. Schedules, activities, meals, more activities, a ton of no’s, daily teaching, and a car ride or two. I love this summer. Not because it’s our dogs settling into life, but it brings me back to a time where there was a bit of mental nothing on a daily basis, but filled with plenty of activities for others. In that time of my young mom’s life, I got excited when the diaper did not fall off. My current situation of teaching the sit… down…sit…command, with success, was a highpoint of today. It came to me today that this is my final attempt at parenting. Furry. Yes. But parenting. Once in awhile, my real kid might need my advice and he will always have my love and worry, but he does not need what these two need. My furry friends are giving me exactly what I need at sixty. Not much. I got it all, well, not all. But everything necessary. So, these pups are giving me back my simplistic life and tasks from long ago. My days are filled with mental boredom but a complete focus on others, too much TV in the background for noise (drowning out other dogs) and great for breaks during their frequent naptimes. I get my mom life back one more time, and this makes this summer, while not exciting, and filled with trips. It is a walk down memory lane as I look at them and remember that while it is alot of nothing but daily groundhog tasks. It is filled with the unconditional love. This brings back my first set of memories, of pure love and the true importance of the daily mental nothings. While not I.Q. raisers, they are physically and mentally challenging, that simplistically thrill me in a way that brings back the best time in my life.

Posted on in german shephards, life

The Hat

I have never owned a hat and at sixty years old, that is probably odd. I am not a hat person, and the Kentucky Derby is not on my bucket list for this very reason, along with the humidity. My hair swells. Think Monica on the vacation episode. No control. Just additional volume. Alot. But now, I am a German Shephard mom, and their walking needs are about three to four miles a day or more, a hat in Arizona is a necessary new clothing must. If you do not know, it is hotter than hot by 7:00 AM. So, the hat helps, a little. But I still look like an absolute fool. The worst part is the hubs who bought this little heat miracle, laughed the moment he saw it on me. Like out loud in public, to the point that people turned and stared. Probably secretly joined in as well. I am not a hat girl. The next day, after his folly and expense, I tried to get out without wearing my new friend. He reminded me. Yup. He wanted a giggle; I am sure of it. I obliged due to the heat, not his upcoming laughs. I tossed it on like a hat pro, it is a bucket hat, so really this is just much worse, with a tie. Yup. Glancing at my hubs of thirty-five years, I knew what was coming, but secretly hoping that possibly I had become a hat gal overnight. Nope, laughter that he tried to stifle. My eyes rolled and then for him it was over, even the pups gave me a look. But the heat. So, I prevailed, kept the hat on and walked my dogs their miles, still hot. Not me, the physical feeling of hot. But the feeling of sparing myself a bit of UV rays made me feel like I was the winner.