Wednesday, June 15, 2011

An Ornery DOE Employee Leads to a Life Changing Moment

After getting 4 hours of sleep, and having no caffeine, I decided it would be a perfect day to head down to the Department of Education to renew my substitute teaching license.

To make the trip even more exciting, I decided to take both kids with me.

I plunked Ari in the stroller, placed Samara in the Ergo, and off we went to The DOE, a place filled with so many lovely bureaucratic moments.

We got to the floor where I had to renew my license. I arrived with children and my $25 postal money order in hand. I was prepared, I thought, having spoken to the Department of Education’s Human Resources hotline the day before.

When I got to the front of the line to be served, an ornery woman grunted at me:

“FILL THIS FORM OUT.” I obliged and handed it back to her.

“Uh…it says here that you are code “C,” you need to submit…” and then she went on to list what seemed like 50 other requirements besides the postal money order I had in my right fist.

“Wait!” I may have even held up my hand to her, I don’t know, I was so alarmed. “Human Resources told me since I only subbed 10 days this school year, I don’t need to submit anything but the $25.”

“Miss, did you read the email we sent you?”

“Uh…yes,” I replied tentatively, “But it was really confusing, and that’s why I called Human Resources to clarify what I needed to do.”

“Well, it’s all in the email. We have thousands of applications here, what makes you think you’re different from anybody else?”

“Um…” I had nothing to say to that.

“You need to read your email. Don’t you read your email? You're code "C," I can't do anything about that.”

“It’s just—I’m confused,” I began “I’m not sure why I have to complete these requirements, I’ve subbed less than 40 days…I thought those requirements for people who subbed 40 days or more.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. You should take that up with Bloomberg!” She said rolling her eyes.

“Is there anybody in this office that I could speak to about the requirements?”

“No. They’re all going to tell you the same thing. I don’t know what to tell you. NEXT!”

During this whole exchange, Ari was jumping from chair to chair in the rather large room and spreading chocolate muffin crumbs around like Hansel and Gretel.

After I was dismissed by this woman, I went to seek out a supervisor.

The supervisor agreed that this woman was especially rude, and apologized to me. We then sat down in her office and she confirmed that I did, in fact, only need to hand in a $25 money order and THAT WAS ALL.

“You’re very well-spoken,” she said to me. “Have you considered applying for the Speech Pathology Program?” She asked.

“No…” I replied, intrigued.

“It’s sponsored by the Department of Education. The Department of Ed pays for you to go to school. You can work F-Status, 2-3 days a week, which is great when you have kids.”

“That sounds great!” I said “I love language, that would be perfect for me.”

She gave me her contact information, and right then and there she sent me an email with the scholarship information.

And just like that, my lemon-like day, turned into a day filled with delicious lemonade.

Do you have a funny bureaucratic moment to share?

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Be Afraid, or Not?

When I was a kid, I thought my parents were superheroes. They weren't afraid of monsters, death, or the dark. I could count on them to protect me from everything.

Now that I have my own kids, I'm realizing more and more, that I am now responsible for defending them against these things.

The only trouble is, I have my own fears. I'm still unconvinced about the existence of monsters in the closet, and I like to sleep with the light slightly dimmed.

So...what do I do? Do I pretend I'm not afraid; feign bravery so that my kids feel safe, or should I be honest about the fact that I'm not invisible? It's a tough call.

It's human to be afraid, but children need to feel safe and secure.

What do you think?

Sunday, June 5, 2011

This is How to Spend a Sunday Night

I believe "dufus" is not really a word. I think it's slang...

All Those Who are Burnt-Out, Say Aye!

Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a superhero. I cannot "do it all," and I don't have eighteen hands. I can't hold Samara, make breakfast, clean the kitchen, bathroom, living room, teach Ari numbers and letters, change Samara's diaper, use the bathroom myself, make Ari nap, make dinner, soothe Samara when she's crying, teach Ari not to be afraid of monsters, find homeopathic remedies for teething babies, take the kids to the playground, and the list goes on and on.

This weekend, I broke down. I lost it. I'm not exaggerating.

I cried. I screamed. I'm still trying to piece myself back together.

I think part of the problem is the idea that things need to be a "certain way." Yes, it's good to have a routine, but when things don't go as planned, I need to learn to adapt.

I remember something my midwife said: "Take 30 minutes a day to be by yourself, without the kids."

I'm beginning to realize that this is imperative for my own sanity.

Have you ever felt this way?

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Thank You Child!

Just when I thought I was going to lose my mind from sleep deprivation, something wonderful happened.

Last night, Samara sleep through the night!

Thank you Samara, you rock!

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

The Winner of The Nosefrida Giveaway is...

Congratulations Leigh! Come on down! You won yourself a Nosefrida! Happy snot-sucking!

How does it feel to be a winner?

**Winner was selected using :-D

Thank you Nosefrida for sponsoring this snot-sucking giveaway ;)