The Tall and Short of it all.

I had two grandmothers. (Well, I guess everyone has two grandmothers, unless they are an amoeba or something of that nature). One grandmother was well off, taught me how to hold my little pinkie up while drinking tea, and was very tall. The other grandmother lived in Yanceyville, NC, made the best lemon pound cake in the world, and was very short.

I know that it is hard for anyone that knows me now  to believe, but ask anyone that I went with to Kirkman Park Elementary School, and they will tell you I was one of the tallest girls in the fifth and sixth grade. I was even on the back row for class pictures..and you know you are tall when you are on the back row. Everyone thought I would be very tall, just like my tea drinking grandmother.

Oops.

It turned out that my growth spurt was during those two glorious back row years.  And that was it. I achieved my present height of 5'2 (and a half) when I was in the sixth grade...and there I stayed. Just like my pound cake making grandmother.

My lack of height has never bothered me, really. In fact, it kind of bothers me when someone is actually shorter than I am. Don't ask me why. I can't tell you.

When I first began teaching, I was 23, short, and working in a middle school of all places. I have a theory that I should never teach anyone taller than I am..and that kind of rules out anyone above the fourth grade. But this was my first teaching year, and everyone knows you take what you can take to become a teacher..because after that you can always maneuver around to a position that is a better fit for you.  The only problem that I had with that first year is that the other teachers kept trying to get me out of the hall to go to class....not my classroom, because they thought I was a student, not a teacher. It took several months for them to get this fact, and even after they figured it out, I still got looks like I was on the wrong planet or something.

In my years as an primary elementary teacher, my height was never a problem. In fact, it is a bonus. You can sit on the floor quickly, get up faster (not as much height to get up with) and it's easy to talk to children on their level because...well,  you are on their level.

Then I became an assistant principal. My height really wasn't an issue then, either, because in the world of children, I was not the "real" principal. In fact, I'd be talking to a child about some kind of issue, and they would stop suddenly, give me a stern look, and ask if I was the "real" principal. I would explain that the real principal was busy at the moment, and I was helping her out until she got back from doing "real principal" like things.  (not sure what they are, but I am sure that they exist).

When the Rio Rancho District became desperate and hired me as an actual principal, my height became a factor. In an elementary student's world, taller equals more important...or something to that effect. It is also interesting to note that the same equation exists in the elementary parent mind as well.

Robert,who is the assistant principal at Colinas,  has been in administration longer than I have. And he is one of the most observant men I know. "The Book of Abney" has saved us from many disasters, and our working relationship is one that I really treasure. We kind of balance each other. Don't ask me why about this either. I don't know why, but I am thankful that we do.

Robert is also 6'7...or as his wife says, 5'19. Needless to say, he is very tall. This factor is very useful at an elementary school. He walks out of his office to talk to one of our students, and their eyes bug out of their sockets. This works with parents as well. He has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know, but when you first view him in the upper hemisphere, it can be intimidating.


I have never viewed myself as being "In charge". It takes a lot of people to run a school, and I am just one of the many people there that make Colinas the school that it is. But to a lot of the children, Robert is in "the principal". The rationale is that he is tall, I am short, and that is all there is to that. This leads to many interesting conversations with children:

Child: "Ms. Moore, when did you become the principal this year?"
Me: " I've been the principal since you've been at Colinas." (This is his fifth year at Colinas).
Child: "But when did Mr. Abney stop being the principal and become the assistant principal?"
Me: "We are both principals."
Child: "But Mr. Abney was the real principal."
Me: "He is a real principal, and so am I. I think it's time for you to go outside and cause havoc on the playground." (Now I really didn't say the second sentence, but I thought it).  :)

So the "Real" principal and I will keep on doing what we do, and somehow balancing out each other. I looked at a picture of the two of us at the annual ice cream social the other day. Actually, I had a really hard time seeing me in the picture, because all that was visible was the top of my head, and my eyes. It takes skill to get a picture of the two of together.

But that's ok. Between the two of us, I think we make a normal person. And a pretty good team.

I have a condition..and other random thoughts about the second week of school

Holy Cow.

This has been a week.

That is really all that should be said, but since I am me, and I think a lot, I will elaborate...and perhaps ramble a bit during my elaboration. So this is your warning now to click off my blog and perhaps do something more entertaining..such as watch the Colinas Cows try to find a new grassy spot to eat.

They say (not sure who the "they" would be at the moment) that there are no coincidences. This I believe. I have become accustomed to the fact that where ever I am, I am there to learn the lessons that I need to learn, and move on to the next lesson. It's kind of interesting, really. I keep thinking, "I wonder what will happen next?" (kind of like Winnie The Pooh)

I think that sometimes people think that my job consists of sitting in my office, looking "principal like" and doing what they "think" a principal should do. I mean after all, all I knew about my elementary school principal was that he sat up in a big office with a huge tree stump beside it (I always wondered why that was there) and you didn't want to visit him...ever.

I am not that person. If ever a job called for running shoes and sweats, it would be this job. You are never sitting still..and if you are, you need to explain to me what in the world Robert and I are doing wrong.

Robert and I deal with situations every day. We deal with a lot of horrific situations, unfortunately, but sometimes we deal with some that you just can't help but laugh about...even though you shake your head about what in the world is going on.

This week was one of those weeks.

If there is any kind of pattern to a school year, it is usually this. You deal with kindergartners at the beginning of the year as they transition into school...and fifth graders at the end of the year as they transition out of elementary school.  I might add that is the only pattern I have discovered about a school year..except that maybe things are usually calm until November, and then everyone freaks out about a number of things.

This year, people are freaking out in August. Not a good sign.

We have a couple of kindergarteners that have kept everyone on their toes and considering medication. (for themselves and the kindergarteners) One is kind of like a kinesthetic ping pong ball. He is operating on his own time table, and has obviously watched too much championship tag team wrestling..because he considers it his duty in life to hit, pinch, or cut off the hair of everyone in his classroom.  His parents somehow think he is normal..because this goes back to the theory of perspective. If you haven't had experiences with children outside what they do, then that is your normal. Until a group sits down with you and explains that a child throwing over tables and propelling themselves on top of children is NOT the norm in school. We do this kindly, however..and have become good at dunking as the child throws a block at your during the parent conference.

Both the teachers in his classroom have handled this with their usual charm and positive perspective..except I did become a bit worried when one of them was seen to be walking back and forth, mumbling under her breath. She is a stellar teacher and person, and this is very unlike her. Very. But she is at a loss on how to handle this child, and somehow teach the other students in her class without giving them all kevlar vests to wear. I wonder if we can somehow give out spa retreats for teachers? This could help.

The other kindergartener also operates under his own time and space continuum. He believes that he is in charge of everyone..and by everyone, that means the children in his class, his teachers, and also in charge of me.  He didn't like doing what he was supposed to do on Friday, so he went dashing away from Mr. Joe, and ran smack into me. I of course took him by the hand, with him yelling like some demon from the Exorcist ..We walked into the office, where he preceded to continue screaming, pulling papers off the office shelf , and I began to give him forced choices..which went like this.

Me: "You can stop screaming and be a big Colinas Kindergartener, or we will have to call your daddy."
Child: "Assshhhhhhhh....DON'T call my Daddy! "(screaming continues)
Me: "I can't really understand you when you are screaming at me. You can stop, or we will have to call your daddy."
Child: (with head turning like a scene from the Exorcist)" NOOOOOOOO....you can't call my daddy!"
Me: "Miss Kim, can you get the card for the number so I can call daddy?"
Child: (now venom is spewing out of his mouth, and his eyes start to roll) "NOOOOOOOO...don't call my daddy!"
Me: "Hmmmmm, where is the phone?"
Child: (screaming stops, he looks out at me from the corners of his eyes)
Me: "Are you going to act like a kindergartener now, so we can go back to class?"
Child: (Nods head in a positive way)

Score: Me one, child zero.

However, my favorite story of the week involves a situation that neither Robert or I were involved in, but got to laugh at just the same. We have a family at our school that has some unique little boys. We love them all. But they sometimes end up in our offices for random instances..and this week entailed one of them.

If I had any kind of magic power, I would design a bus system that would put each child individually into a chute (kind of like the bank ones, but designed for a child, of course)..and place them into the chute at the end of the day, where they would be propelled into a chair at their house. Sadly, I don't have that power, and we have to deal with buses..which is like a moving classroom with children on crack.

The little boy in question got into a altercation with another child on the bus, where he proceeded to push him, hit him..and then screamed into his face...

"This is not my fault...I have a condition!"

When Robert and I saw the note that our secretary handed to use with a straight face..we knew that one of us would use this phrase as a Facebook status update. Robert won.

And now we have a phrase that most likely will sum up our year..which has barely begun.

May all of our conditions be little ones. :)

The things you should not apologize for...ever. And I mean it.

I was raised to be a person pleaser. Well, actually, no one really intended for me to be that way, but when you live with a mom who is an alcoholic, you learn to walk a tight rope in doing the right thing, saying the right thing, and trying to maneuver things so that they stay "normal" and pleasant.

When I was in school, I was the same way. I wanted to be the best..the best grades, be in the best clubs, do the best. And annoyingly enough, that didn't happen the way I wanted it to all the time. I was on the school newspaper, the orchestra, service clubs, student council, you name it.. I wanted to be liked and involved. And damn it, I was. Teachers liked me, my friends liked me, and an occasional boy did as well.

Because of said boys, I spent a lot of time apologizing to their parents (and to my friends as well) for my mother's drinking problem. My mom called a LOT of my friends' parents when she drank. It was amazing how she did that, actually. And she wasn't pleasant when she did so. At all.

So fast forward through my married years with Whitney and Reid's dad, where I don't think I apologized a lot. (I apologize to those of you who know that I did..hee hee) and then I went into Crazy Land. Where I spent a LOT of time apologizing. For everything. And anything. I apologized if dinner was late. I apologized if I forgot to pay a bill. I apologized for not calling when I should have. I apologized for things I didn't even do.  Because it seemed as if apologizing was the one thing that would keep things on an even playing field. Of course, this was silly,  because it never worked.

When I exited to the suburbs of Crazy Land, I was still in the habit of apologizing. After all, it was part of my daily vocabulary and demeanor. One thing that went along with the apologizing deal was the fact that I felt really guilty about things. I should do the "right" things. I had a "right thing" encyclopedia  in my head, and just like my teenage years, there I would do categorizing in my head what was the good thing to do. Of course, this would lead to people liking me, would it not?

This also led to me being sad and depressed.

This, I might add, is not a good thing for the soul.

Then Reid died.

Now I know I have mentioned to you before that I will never understand the reasons for Reid's death. People offer suggestions of why, I tell them politely that they are dead wrong, and that is the end of that. But I will say a couple of things that were the result of the catastrophic event that really changed my life.

I really didn't have a lot of time at first to worry about how I was appearing to others..if I was doing the "right" things..if I was acting the "right" way and all of that. I remember that the Saturday after Reid died, the neighbors in our neighborhood did a very lovely thing. They put together a bench in memory of Reid. And on a very sunny morning, they were planning to bring it up to give it to our family.

Which was very lovely of them, except all I really wanted to do was stay in bed, or read a book, which I really could not read. Focus issues, you know.  So I said so to the Mayor.

That did not go well at all. Did I not know that I should go out and thank them? Did I not know that they all had done a very generous thing? Did I not know that I would seem ungrateful if I didn't make an appearance? Did I not know that this was not like me at all?

Really? What was like me at all anymore? Did anyone not know that my whole world had exploded? Did anyone not know that I could barely move, knowing that my son would never do pretend back flips ever again?

But I did the right thing..I went outside, I thanked everyone, we all posed for pictures, in which I managed to smile. Then I went back inside and crawled back into bed.

I remember thinking that the one thing that would happen during the first year after Reid's death was that I would have the luxury of doing anything I could do, and no one would give me grief about it. Except for who know who. So I did. I began to take care of myself, because in all honesty, it was all I could actually handle at the moment. Whitney was at UNM, and The Mayor was capable of taking care of himself...so that left me handling me. Well, kind of handling me.

It was hard work to stop apologizing. Really. I had to literally stop myself in my head when I would apologize for something so trivial that the one I would be apologizing to would look puzzled to why I was doing so.  And even harder work to stop feeling guilty about it. And to realize limits and boundaries about what I could handle, and what I could not. And not feel badly when I couldn't do what I was "expected" to do.

This week, one of our teachers lost her father very unexpectedly. And she was devastated, for their family is very close, and still did so much together.  She is a wonderful person, and I think so much of her.  And my heart broke for her, for unfortunately, I know the feeling.

I have a very hard time at funerals, and going to them. This I think is understandable, because it opens up the floodgates for me of a time that I would rather not experience again. It is like climbing Mount Everest for me to go to one. I am exhausted and preoccupied with memories after I do. This is not helpful for building a "real and vivable " life. However, in my position, I am "expected" to do to these events.

But in this case, I do not do the "expected" thing.

I do talk to the person that has the loss. I do send a card, and make sure the school helps out in every way  we can to support the person that has lost a loved one. I make sure that the person has the time and space he or she needs to get back to a "new normal."

I know that  some people do not understand why I am not doing the "expected" thing..that they frown upon my lack of protocol in these circumstances. But this is something I am not going to apologize for...ever. I take care of the person that is grieving in my own way, and I also take care of me.

And by taking care of me, I am better suited to take care of others. It's amazing, but true.

Keep in mind I am a slow learner in the lessons of life..but I am learning. :)


 

Eyes Wide Open..

My life is a bit befuzzled. It's a mix of totally busy and chaotic, and then totally (well, not exactly totally) quiet and serene. Neither one is totally ideal. But then whose life is?

It is unusual that at the age that I am at, I am still amazed by many things. I remember being around 10, and thinking that when I was 25 I would have everything figured out and my life would be perfect.

Silly me.

The bubble kept me from thinking about the real world for many years. I mean, after all, when you are very busy trying to maintain an image, juggling a crazy world, and being the reasonable one in a relationship, you don't have time for much thinking. It is hard work keeping this up, I might mention. When I think about it now, I have no idea how I was able to do it all. It is exhausting to think about..which is a good thing because I know I will not be able to do that again.

I know I keep mentioning that I am learning many lessons now. It's like being in a remedial "life lessons" course, because you weren't paying attention to the course you should have paid attention to earlier, and now you need "life lesson summer school." Except this school is year round. And I most likely need a life lesson IEP.

It really makes me wonder is anyone what they seem to be? Or is the fact that I assume everyone is the way that I am, and behaves like I would behave?

That is where the issue comes in, I think.

People tend to believe everyone is the way they are..and that's where the preconceived notion thing comes from. For example, the mayor would proclaim loudly that he never lied..and was brutally honest about everything. He felt like everyone lied, and he was the only shining example of honesty on the planet. However, I found out eventually that he lied about everything, and that is why he felt everyone else did.

So here I am, figuring that everyone is nice, tells the truth, and treats people well. I mean after all, that is what people should do, right? But I am finding out that my biggest problem is that I believe as well that people are the way I am...and although I am definitely not a shining example of what a person should be, I am learning (and very quickly, I might add) that people, and what you see on the surface of them, is not exactly who they are.

Everyone has a "mask" (perhaps that's not the right word, perhaps facade is better) that they put on to the  world and the people that live in it. People have to be civil to others..unless you are at the end of a concert, and trying to get out of the parking lot.

I tend to think that everyone that I meet is nice..except for those few exceptions when someone is upset because a teacher or staff member has done something horrific to their child..which turns out to never be the case.  Most of my days are spent nodding my head and validating feelings of others, and trying to work out solutions to problems so that everyone feels as if they were part of the process. But that's another story for another time.

However, I am finding out that when I start to listen and watch closely in my personal life as well, there is a lot going on with most people than I ever assumed. And I am constantly amazed by this. Constantly. Please refer back to my "Life Lesson IEP" to see why this is so.

I tend to be drawn to men that have high goals and ambitions, and a focused life. I am that way as well, so perhaps that is why. I don't know why it is exactly, and I don't care to think about that at the moment. Perhaps later. I met a man several months ago that I was very impressed with..he had a great professional life, he was active in sports, he worked with the community, he was very close with his large extended family. My "great-man-o-meter" went off as I found out more about him. And then I was me (at the time) and proceded on my "over-texting" campaigns, which usually cause most men to go fleeing into the woods. Sigh. (I am better at that though. Sometimes the invention of texting is the devil...at least for me it is).

We still stayed in touch, though, and I found out that he had been traveling overseas for business, and then went back to Asia for a vacation. I was impressed by this, since a vacation for me is going to the neighborhood pool at the moment. And then I found out the reason for the vacation (well, perhaps not the entire reason, but I imagine a big part of that) was to see a women in the area.

Who is 19.

Wow.

Now, I know I should not be judging people, and this fact is not part of the "Things inside the circle" I can control.  But Holy Cow. Why would a successful, 50ish man be with a 19 year old? My mouth has been hanging open about this fact all week. This leads me to wonder why this would be happening beneath the surface of someone who I thought had an amazing life, and had it all together. And the more I wonder, the more I realize that things once again are not what they seem to be with anyone. And that is why time, and taking the time to know anyone, is an important part of life.

So I will continue on my life lesson road, and keep my eyes wide open, and not assume (once again) that first impressions (although they are important) are all that you should be impressed about. People have lots of layers to them (including me) and taking time to shift through the layers helps you to really know a person. Although I guess you really never know. And that is the life lesson I am taking away from this.

Sigh.

The synonyms of dating...or being nicely dumped.

I know that I have mentioned that the new world of dating constantly amazes me. And I mean constantly. I am proud to mention, however, that I have moved from being hysterical every time things don't go the way I want them to (keep in mind I was (am)  a bit of a control freak) to just befuzzled. And a tad irritated.

The thing that I am realizing, bit by bit, is that there are evolving synonyms in the way that men (well, at least the men I am meeting) tell you that you have not met their ever evolving (revolving) criteria for what they are looking for in a woman. That is, if they are really looking. I think the thing about the new world of dating is that there is always someone better or of a "higher quality." Online dating gives you that option. You may "meet" a person one day who fits your criteria, but then "see" someone that fits it even better..and then your choice number one then becomes choice number two. It's like winning a contest to pick out clothes at Ann Taylor Loft, but you only have 2000 dollars. So you keep discarding clothes to pick the "best". That is exactly what online dating is like.

I don't fit the profile of online dating..it's just not the way I'm wired. If I actually meet someone that shows interest, I don't handle multi-tasking other men well.  It's interesting that I can do that in every other area of my life but that.   So I meet someone, we have a connection, and then the following things start to happen...

1. They start to contact me less. (This, of course I try to rationalize as being normal. It's good to be with people who actually have normal lives, and live it.)

However,  this usually (always)  leads to...

2. "I've been really busy, sorry." (Which I am sure it is true...being with people who have busy lives versus stalking kind of lives is a good thing, right?)

However, this usually (always)  leads to....

3. "You are a (fill in the blank with) great, amazing, classy, good, wonderful, person...but.....

You know most likely what happens after that.

Now I really do believe that I am all those above things, most of the time. I really do believe that anyone would be lucky to have me, most of the time.  But I am in a system that is kind of like the SBA testing system..there is always a higher bar to jump, and a lot of men are always looking to raise the bar to "something better".

I am sure (since I am learning many lessons in life) that there will come a day when I am the "something better" for someone. I am just not sure when that day will be. So for now, I am learning to really not get excited about someone who thinks on Wednesday I am the best thing since Coach purses started being sold at outlets.

Because everything changes in a minute.