This past weekend I packed up the Jetta and headed out the Kentucky Derby-alone. In an effort to live a bit of a happier life I've been trying to get out more and do more things that make me happy. DH gets to travel all the time for work and I get insanely jealous of his fantastic trips (he's jetting off to Italy soon).
A few weeks ago I had an epiphany-I could sit at home feeling sorry for myself and complaining about all the things I was missing out on or I could pack up and go. I've always used the argument that someone needs to be the responsible one in the relationship and take care of the house and the dog, but I deserve time for myself too. With that in mind I decided about 5:00 on Friday night to make the drive into Kentucky. DH stayed home and took care of the dog while I made the drive.
The only tickets left on the night before the Derby were infield tickets but I took what I could get, threw a few things in my little suitcase and hit the road. My plan was to drive through the night, reach Kentucky in the morning, sleep in my car for a few hours and then hit the Derby. About 1:00 in the morning (8 hours into my drive) that plan went out the window and I stopped in the lovely town of Mount Vernon, Illinois to grab a few hours of sleep at their Quality Inn.
The next morning I downed a Red Bull and drove the rest of the way in to Louisville. I drove straight to Churchill Downs and realized that was not the place to be! Most of the residents were offering parking for a low low price of $25.00 to cram my car in their yard-that wasn't going to happen. I couldn't imagine trying to get out of there after the race was over so I kept going. I was able to park at the Kentucky Expo Center for only $8.00-I had all the space I wanted and only had one small incident with a group of drunk tailgaters.
It's a pretty long and hot walk from the Expo Center up to the racetrack. I stopped at a Starbucks for water and to use their bathroom before braving the crowds at the track (I wasn't about to be stuck using a Port-O-Potty!). Getting into the track was suprisingly easy-I walked right up to the gate, handed them my ticket and off I went into the belly of the beast. I saw some other people getting their bags searched, but my giant Coach purse must not have raised alarm bells since no one even gave it a second look.
Once I was inside the gate was where the real madness started-thousands of people crammed onto the infield with most of them being drunk monkeys. In addition the Vineyard Vines tent was giving away foam hats shaped like their whale logo-I spent the rest of the day getting smacked in the face. I strolled around the infield, bought a few souvenirs and an overpriced lunch and checked out the lay of the land. Apparently getting their 4 hours before the race starts is getting there late since every spot of grass was covered with bodies.
Churchill Downs installed a large TV screen on the infield so people can watch the race-it cracked me up to see the rows and rows of lawn chairs people had lined up in front of the screen. It looked like the rows at a movie theater and made me question why on earth would you go into the mess of Churchill Downs on Derby Day just to watch the race on a screen? Why wouldn't you just stay home?
I staked out my spot on the first turn between two very boisterous groups of people and promptly fell asleep on the grass using my purse as a pillow(I'm blessed with the ability to sleep anywhere). When I woke up I was the color of a lobster and bored. Being there by yourself is not ideal since you don't have anyone to save your spot when you get up to get a drink or food. I couldn't leave my spot all afternoon in fear of losing it. The people in front of me had made a circle with their chairs and blocked it off with "Police Line" tape-I spent most of the afternoon imagining elaborate crimes that could occur there and giggling to myself.
The actual race started and was over in the blink of an eye. American Pharaoh won and I saw just a few seconds of the race when they thundered through the first turn. Then it was time to leave-one exit for 70,000 people (part of it includes a dark scary tunnel that you have to walk through). Leaving was quite possibly the worst possible part of the day. Everyone is pushing and shoving, people are whacking each other with chairs and coolers and drunk people are falling down. The lovely souvenir mint julep glasses are shattered on the ground so you're dodging glass with each step.
After I got home Churchill Downs sent me a survey about my experience, one of the questions they asked was "Was it a luxury experience?" and I just laughed. Imagine a frat party times about a thousand and that was the infield atmosphere. I like a good party and I like a good cocktail, but the amount of over consumption and rude behavior was ridiculous. People were passing out on the ground, marijuana was being smoked in the bathrooms, glass was being thrown etc. etc. and no security was present.
I guess the question is was is worth it? Yes and no. It's not something I would do again unless I could really do it up right (and I'm in no financial position for that) but the experience was definitely worth it. It was fun to see and fun to experience. However, I much prefer watching the race from the comfort of my own couch-it doesn't involve 22 hours in the car and I can cuddle my puppy during tense moments! I will say that the focus of the Kentucky Derby has changed from horse racing to fashion and booze. I love fashion (as evidenced by my overflowing closet) and I like booze, but on Derby day I want it to be ALL about the horses. I'm a huge horse racing fan-seriously I can name every Derby winner, their time, their owners etc. etc. I'm just a repository for useless facts (yet I can't usually remember where I put my car keys). Why can't we focus on the horses and their athletic achievements rather than on what hat Kendra Wilkinson wore? I don't even care about the gambling portion of it-I just want to see the ponies run.
Now I just need to attend the Belmont and the Preakness to complete my own personal Triple Crown-and it's nice to check attending the Kentucky Derby off my bucket list since next year I'll be curled up on the couch watching it!
Showing posts with label lessons learned. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lessons learned. Show all posts
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Cell Phone Jail
My kiddos started state assessments this morning-that means a full week of testing and vainly attempting to keep them quiet. I came to school loaded down with a tote bag full of hard candies to keep them quiet and stacks of word searches, crosswords and mazes to distract them after the test.
Massive bag of candy-purchased and paid for by me! Thank a teacher for all they buy for your students during the year. I've spent about $500.00 already this year!
Things to keep them entertained!
Keeping them off their cell phones is SUPER important during the test-and I knew if I let them keep their cell phones in their pockets they would be tempted to sneak a peek at Instagram or Snapchat during the test. That's a huge violation of testing security and makes BIG problems for the teacher. Last year a colleague had a student ANSWER his cell phone in the middle of the test-apparently it was his mom and he couldn't ignore a call from his mom! It caused a huge mess for sure :)
I set up a cell phone jail for my students-simply a plastic tub where they were required to place their cell phones before the test. They put a Post-It with their name on it on their device, turned the device off and left it in the tub. I warned my kids ahead of time that we would be doing this (so I didn't have the inevitable fights) and it went smoothly. I didn't have ONE problem with the kids giving up their devices! It was amazing :)
Cell phone jail!
It was amazing to watch the transformation in my kiddos as well-they are usually glued to their devices if they have time. We have the daily struggle to keep kids engaged in the lesson and keep them off their phones. I often catch students scrolling mindlessly through Facebook when they are supposed to be working. The kids get in trouble for their addiction to their devices, but I'm no better-I'm often checking e-mail or looking at Facebook if I have a few spare moments.
Everyone finished the first section of their test and we had about 20 minutes left in the testing session. I told the kids it was okay to chat and expected a rush to get their phones! No one came to get their phone (and a few kids even forgot their phones when they left class). It was neat to watch my students work together to solve a word search, draw a picture together, play tic tac toe or just chat with a friend with no distractions. It was a great reminder to put down the technology and truly live. It was great to see how easy it was for them to let go of the phones (and to be fair I put mine in jail too). Without their phones they were still able to entertain themselves quite easily-a skill we often forget we have.
Some of my students commented that they didn't miss their phone or that we should have technology free days again! It was amazing to see my students who are of the tech generation truly live in the moment-and not be chronicling every second for Instagram. My students had more real conversations in that 20 minutes than we've had all year! Some students were even talking to kids they don't usually talk to which was amazing. When technology is removed you are forced to connect with the humans around you-which is a good thing!
What a good reminder to put down the cell phone and live! Tonight I'll be putting away the cell phone and the iPad and enjoying my husband and my dog without snapping one picture for Facebook or checking my e-mail. I'll focus on living and creating memories rather than chronicling memories to share with everyone. DH and I are going to have technology free days at least once a week-hopefully more! I'm also going to do a weekly technology free day in my classroom this year and next year! Let's learn how to live without technology distracting us! I challenge you to put down the phone and really live in the moment-you will be richly rewarded.
Massive bag of candy-purchased and paid for by me! Thank a teacher for all they buy for your students during the year. I've spent about $500.00 already this year! Things to keep them entertained!Keeping them off their cell phones is SUPER important during the test-and I knew if I let them keep their cell phones in their pockets they would be tempted to sneak a peek at Instagram or Snapchat during the test. That's a huge violation of testing security and makes BIG problems for the teacher. Last year a colleague had a student ANSWER his cell phone in the middle of the test-apparently it was his mom and he couldn't ignore a call from his mom! It caused a huge mess for sure :)
I set up a cell phone jail for my students-simply a plastic tub where they were required to place their cell phones before the test. They put a Post-It with their name on it on their device, turned the device off and left it in the tub. I warned my kids ahead of time that we would be doing this (so I didn't have the inevitable fights) and it went smoothly. I didn't have ONE problem with the kids giving up their devices! It was amazing :)
Cell phone jail!It was amazing to watch the transformation in my kiddos as well-they are usually glued to their devices if they have time. We have the daily struggle to keep kids engaged in the lesson and keep them off their phones. I often catch students scrolling mindlessly through Facebook when they are supposed to be working. The kids get in trouble for their addiction to their devices, but I'm no better-I'm often checking e-mail or looking at Facebook if I have a few spare moments.
Everyone finished the first section of their test and we had about 20 minutes left in the testing session. I told the kids it was okay to chat and expected a rush to get their phones! No one came to get their phone (and a few kids even forgot their phones when they left class). It was neat to watch my students work together to solve a word search, draw a picture together, play tic tac toe or just chat with a friend with no distractions. It was a great reminder to put down the technology and truly live. It was great to see how easy it was for them to let go of the phones (and to be fair I put mine in jail too). Without their phones they were still able to entertain themselves quite easily-a skill we often forget we have.
Some of my students commented that they didn't miss their phone or that we should have technology free days again! It was amazing to see my students who are of the tech generation truly live in the moment-and not be chronicling every second for Instagram. My students had more real conversations in that 20 minutes than we've had all year! Some students were even talking to kids they don't usually talk to which was amazing. When technology is removed you are forced to connect with the humans around you-which is a good thing!
What a good reminder to put down the cell phone and live! Tonight I'll be putting away the cell phone and the iPad and enjoying my husband and my dog without snapping one picture for Facebook or checking my e-mail. I'll focus on living and creating memories rather than chronicling memories to share with everyone. DH and I are going to have technology free days at least once a week-hopefully more! I'm also going to do a weekly technology free day in my classroom this year and next year! Let's learn how to live without technology distracting us! I challenge you to put down the phone and really live in the moment-you will be richly rewarded.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Better Living Through Unnecessary Medical Care
I will freely admit that I am a tad bit of a hypochondriac (DH would say I'm just raging insane-but that's open for debate). When I was growing up my mother would never take me to the doctor-for anything. When I was in middle school I fell down the steps chasing our dog and tore a ligament in my knee. I spent the next week participating in gym class and walking all over school before my mother believed me enough to take me to the doctor. She was pretty embarrassed that she had waited so long (hi mom!-I told you I would get revenge-well here it is). To be fair when my mom fell down the stairs a couple of years ago she actually broke her foot (like swollen, bruised and could feel the bone moving) and she never went to the doctor.
My parents were responsible and loving parents (so no calling the cops or anything), but they understood that I was a tad dramatic so they took my I'm dying claims with a grain of salt. DH still hasn't figured out how panicky I am, so he totally feeds into my crazy. Last year I personally spent $4000 on medical bills and spent months in and out of various doctors. At one point I was driving to a podiatrist 3 hours away from my home because I didn't like the responses I got from any podiatrist in my hometown. I had been having a ton of foot pain in a foot I had previously had surgery on and not one doctor believed me that there was something wrong. They all thought that I was gunning for drugs rather than a solution. Until I finally had surgery in college my foot hurt every single day for as almost 10 years-which was dismissed by every single doctor except one. After an MRI and being told that I would just have to live with pain I hightailed it back to that doctor. After months of tests we discovered that I had an auto-immune disease that was probably causing a large part of my pain. Now that it is being treated my pain is getting better (without narcotics thank you very much!). I do know my own body and sometimes I'm really right-but other times the crazy just kind of takes over.
Case in point: Sophomore year of college I woke up with a large lump on my eyelid. There wasn't any pus or any thing so where did my mind immediately jump? I decided I had eye cancer and rushed off to student health accordingly. The doctor seemed to have trouble keeping a straight face as I explained that I had eye cancer and would probably need chemo. This was the same doctor that was tasked with dealing with me previously for swine flu (probably not), severe flu (also not severe, but was given IV fluids just to shut me up) and several other ailments that were deadly at the time.
He took one look at my eye and calmly stated that I had a stye on the underside of my eyelid. He told me to wear my glasses until it popped on its own and to stop sleeping in my contacts. I wasn't convinced and left the doctor in a huff-"How could he be so insensitive to my fears?" I raged at my mother on the phone as I begged her to book me an appointment with the nearest oncologist. Luckily my mother has had tons of experience talking me down off ledges so she convinced me to wait a week until starting my cancer regime. She also talked me into applying a hot towel to my eye to speed up the process. A few days later the eye cancer was gone and once again my mother was right.
All of this leads back to my emergency room visit I alluded to a few days ago. I woke up on the Sunday before school started with a ton of back pain. For once my crazy didn't really kick in and I laid around in bed on a heating pad all day. Basically I used it as an excuse to get DH to rub my back and to not do any Sunday chores. I didn't call my mom all day (which is super unusual) because I felt so terrible. I knew I had to go to work the next day so I was really hoping I would feel better. DH spent most of the day shoveling snow without realizing how terrible I was feeling. When I finally decided that I should probably be seen by a doctor all the walk in care clinics were closed. Instead of rushing off to the ER I made the smart choice to call the on-call doctor to see if it could wait until the next day-he said we should come in.
When I can actually make smart health care decisions or when I wait to go to the doctor I usually wind up to be actually pretty sick. When I have the time and mental abilities to come up with my crazy scenarios it's usually something that's no big deal. I fully expected that this would actually be something serious-my back was really killing me at this point. I've had some pretty bad injuries and this was worse than anything I've ever experienced. It was right in the area of my kidneys so I totally expected a kidney stone or something like that.
The ER was slow, but I really didn't care until I got back to the room. We got triaged and taken back and then we waited FOREVER for a nurse to show up. Once she had taken vital and a urine sample she swept out and we were left alone for another hour. A PA shows up and explains that they had run some tests and I didn't have an infection-they wanted to order a CT scan to check out my kidneys. She also stated that she would get me some pain medication since at this point I was white as a sheet and writhing around trying to get comfortable (quietly so I didn't make a scene of course). We agreed and she left-it was another hour before the nurse came back to start my IV-and she didn't bring the promised pain medication. She did a great job getting the IV in quickly as I squeezed my eyes shut (I don't have a fear of needles, but I do pass out at the sight of blood-I can handle animal blood just not human blood-yes it's odd). DH asked very politely if she could get us a bandage or a wrap to cover the IV so I didn't have to look at the blood in it and she said she would. I was taken away for my CT scan shortly after that which went well and was over quickly. They used the strange dye that makes you feel like you're peeing yourself.
Just a warning for anyone who has to get the contrast dye-IT REALLY WILL FEEL LIKE YOU'RE PEEING YOURSELF! I was told this multiple times and I didn't really believe them. I was more focused on the fact that they told me it would make me feel warm-I was freezing to death so that sounded like a welcome side effect. The very nice radiologist came and got me from my room to take me for the CT scan. It was super embarrassing to be rolled through the waiting room in my hospital bed while wearing my super revealing hospital gown (that I hadn't let DH tie so he could rub my back). Of course one of my former students was in the waiting room with his family-he seemed to get a good laugh out of it. When we got the room I correctly assumed that I should lie on the table by the machine and went to get up-at the same time the radiologist reached out to help me up and he managed to totally grab my boob!
The poor guy turned bright red and I'm pretty sure he expected a screaming fit and a lawsuit. He seemed a bit taken aback when I made a VERY terrible joke (that I won't repeat) and started laughing. He apologized about a million times, but it wasn't that big of deal. When he injected the dye I was still giggling inwardly and then all of the sudden I was peeing myself. I shared this with the radiologist and he assured me that I wasn't. By this point crazy anxiety brain had taken over and I was convinced that I did pee myself.
Once we were done he rolled me back to my room and I still felt a little funny from the dye. The first words out of my mouth when I rejoined DH? "The radiologist grabbed my boob-can you check and see if I peed myself?" DH is actually a good sport (and a GREAT husband) because he checked and confirmed that I hadn't made a huge mess and he cracked up at the story. It took another few hours, but I finally got my pain medicine (3 hours after I was told I would get it and 30 minutes before we were allowed to leave).
So what was wrong? I was having an allergic reaction to a new medicine that I had started taking for my autoimmune disease. The shot of morphine they gave me before discharging me made me totally drunk, but didn't touch the back pain. It wasn't until I had skipped 2 doses of the medicine before the pain started to go away-no matter how many muscle relaxers and pain pills I took.
My lesson from all of this is a surprising one-my mother was RIGHT. It feels like every time I go to the doctor for one thing the medicine or the procedure causes another thing. Medical care is like the Domino theory except with ER visits instead of Communist Governments. My mom has a theory that if you never go to the doctor you never get sick. I think all my illnesses have come about from exposing myself to germs and medical care. My goal for 2015 is to avoid as much medical care as possible since if I get any sicker I'll probably die and that would be unfortunate. Is there a name for a hypochondriac that avoids medical care (besides lunatic)?
My parents were responsible and loving parents (so no calling the cops or anything), but they understood that I was a tad dramatic so they took my I'm dying claims with a grain of salt. DH still hasn't figured out how panicky I am, so he totally feeds into my crazy. Last year I personally spent $4000 on medical bills and spent months in and out of various doctors. At one point I was driving to a podiatrist 3 hours away from my home because I didn't like the responses I got from any podiatrist in my hometown. I had been having a ton of foot pain in a foot I had previously had surgery on and not one doctor believed me that there was something wrong. They all thought that I was gunning for drugs rather than a solution. Until I finally had surgery in college my foot hurt every single day for as almost 10 years-which was dismissed by every single doctor except one. After an MRI and being told that I would just have to live with pain I hightailed it back to that doctor. After months of tests we discovered that I had an auto-immune disease that was probably causing a large part of my pain. Now that it is being treated my pain is getting better (without narcotics thank you very much!). I do know my own body and sometimes I'm really right-but other times the crazy just kind of takes over.
Case in point: Sophomore year of college I woke up with a large lump on my eyelid. There wasn't any pus or any thing so where did my mind immediately jump? I decided I had eye cancer and rushed off to student health accordingly. The doctor seemed to have trouble keeping a straight face as I explained that I had eye cancer and would probably need chemo. This was the same doctor that was tasked with dealing with me previously for swine flu (probably not), severe flu (also not severe, but was given IV fluids just to shut me up) and several other ailments that were deadly at the time.
He took one look at my eye and calmly stated that I had a stye on the underside of my eyelid. He told me to wear my glasses until it popped on its own and to stop sleeping in my contacts. I wasn't convinced and left the doctor in a huff-"How could he be so insensitive to my fears?" I raged at my mother on the phone as I begged her to book me an appointment with the nearest oncologist. Luckily my mother has had tons of experience talking me down off ledges so she convinced me to wait a week until starting my cancer regime. She also talked me into applying a hot towel to my eye to speed up the process. A few days later the eye cancer was gone and once again my mother was right.
All of this leads back to my emergency room visit I alluded to a few days ago. I woke up on the Sunday before school started with a ton of back pain. For once my crazy didn't really kick in and I laid around in bed on a heating pad all day. Basically I used it as an excuse to get DH to rub my back and to not do any Sunday chores. I didn't call my mom all day (which is super unusual) because I felt so terrible. I knew I had to go to work the next day so I was really hoping I would feel better. DH spent most of the day shoveling snow without realizing how terrible I was feeling. When I finally decided that I should probably be seen by a doctor all the walk in care clinics were closed. Instead of rushing off to the ER I made the smart choice to call the on-call doctor to see if it could wait until the next day-he said we should come in.
When I can actually make smart health care decisions or when I wait to go to the doctor I usually wind up to be actually pretty sick. When I have the time and mental abilities to come up with my crazy scenarios it's usually something that's no big deal. I fully expected that this would actually be something serious-my back was really killing me at this point. I've had some pretty bad injuries and this was worse than anything I've ever experienced. It was right in the area of my kidneys so I totally expected a kidney stone or something like that.
The ER was slow, but I really didn't care until I got back to the room. We got triaged and taken back and then we waited FOREVER for a nurse to show up. Once she had taken vital and a urine sample she swept out and we were left alone for another hour. A PA shows up and explains that they had run some tests and I didn't have an infection-they wanted to order a CT scan to check out my kidneys. She also stated that she would get me some pain medication since at this point I was white as a sheet and writhing around trying to get comfortable (quietly so I didn't make a scene of course). We agreed and she left-it was another hour before the nurse came back to start my IV-and she didn't bring the promised pain medication. She did a great job getting the IV in quickly as I squeezed my eyes shut (I don't have a fear of needles, but I do pass out at the sight of blood-I can handle animal blood just not human blood-yes it's odd). DH asked very politely if she could get us a bandage or a wrap to cover the IV so I didn't have to look at the blood in it and she said she would. I was taken away for my CT scan shortly after that which went well and was over quickly. They used the strange dye that makes you feel like you're peeing yourself.
Just a warning for anyone who has to get the contrast dye-IT REALLY WILL FEEL LIKE YOU'RE PEEING YOURSELF! I was told this multiple times and I didn't really believe them. I was more focused on the fact that they told me it would make me feel warm-I was freezing to death so that sounded like a welcome side effect. The very nice radiologist came and got me from my room to take me for the CT scan. It was super embarrassing to be rolled through the waiting room in my hospital bed while wearing my super revealing hospital gown (that I hadn't let DH tie so he could rub my back). Of course one of my former students was in the waiting room with his family-he seemed to get a good laugh out of it. When we got the room I correctly assumed that I should lie on the table by the machine and went to get up-at the same time the radiologist reached out to help me up and he managed to totally grab my boob!
The poor guy turned bright red and I'm pretty sure he expected a screaming fit and a lawsuit. He seemed a bit taken aback when I made a VERY terrible joke (that I won't repeat) and started laughing. He apologized about a million times, but it wasn't that big of deal. When he injected the dye I was still giggling inwardly and then all of the sudden I was peeing myself. I shared this with the radiologist and he assured me that I wasn't. By this point crazy anxiety brain had taken over and I was convinced that I did pee myself.
Once we were done he rolled me back to my room and I still felt a little funny from the dye. The first words out of my mouth when I rejoined DH? "The radiologist grabbed my boob-can you check and see if I peed myself?" DH is actually a good sport (and a GREAT husband) because he checked and confirmed that I hadn't made a huge mess and he cracked up at the story. It took another few hours, but I finally got my pain medicine (3 hours after I was told I would get it and 30 minutes before we were allowed to leave).
So what was wrong? I was having an allergic reaction to a new medicine that I had started taking for my autoimmune disease. The shot of morphine they gave me before discharging me made me totally drunk, but didn't touch the back pain. It wasn't until I had skipped 2 doses of the medicine before the pain started to go away-no matter how many muscle relaxers and pain pills I took.
My lesson from all of this is a surprising one-my mother was RIGHT. It feels like every time I go to the doctor for one thing the medicine or the procedure causes another thing. Medical care is like the Domino theory except with ER visits instead of Communist Governments. My mom has a theory that if you never go to the doctor you never get sick. I think all my illnesses have come about from exposing myself to germs and medical care. My goal for 2015 is to avoid as much medical care as possible since if I get any sicker I'll probably die and that would be unfortunate. Is there a name for a hypochondriac that avoids medical care (besides lunatic)?
Saturday, January 10, 2015
How to Impress your Boss
It's been freezing cold here for the past few days. I'm a Southern girl and Southern blood runs through my veins-any temperature under 60 is entirely too cold for me. I live in a permanent state of freezing and DH complains about my habit of cranking the thermostat up to 80 and sitting on the couch under an electric blanket on high. He's accused me of being a reptile more than once in our relationship, which should offend me, but I'm pretty sure it's true. Last summer during a 100 degree heatwave I spent a week with the air conditioning off-DH was quite pleased when he returned from a business trip to a house that felt like a wood-fired pizza oven (those are trendy now right?)
When the single digit weather hit this week all thoughts of dressing for cuteness went out the window-I was dressing purely for function. This meant jeans and thick sweaters-which worked great until I ran out of clean jeans on Wednesday. Unless sweatpants are suddenly considered appropriate work wear I was stuck wearing a dress to work. I attempted to make it warmer with tights and a layered sweater, but the minute I opened the back door I realized I would freeze on my way to the car.
The only practical solution was to layer fleece pajama pants over my dress, wrap a scarf around my head and brave the 20 foot walk to the detached garage (and of course the 10 minutes before my heated seats warmed up). I was quite proud of my innovative fashion sense as I strolled across the icy parking lot into school-my co-workers were shivering and I was toasty warm.
I stepped into the nicely heated building and ran directly into my principal-of course he was nattily attired in a sweater and dress pants. He gave my outfit a once over and I realized how ridiculous I looked. Imagine this: black J. Crew ski cap, black and red Target gloves with a tear in the finger and a strange red pattern along the hand, mint green Colombia jacket (that I've owned since I was in 8th grade) with a few chew marks at the bottom where the dog got her teeth in it and dirt marks from where I fell in the back yard playing with dog. Added to this stylish ensemble were my fuzzy blue pajama pants adorned with jumping and leaping sheep and black riding boots over them. The principal's expression conveyed that he was extremely impressed with my fashion choices (or thought I was slowly losing my mind). He was so impressed he didn't even say anything to me! I'm pretty sure this will reflect positively on me at my next performance review.
Of course when I got to my classroom I slipped off the outerwear that was concealing my work appropriate outfit-and I didn't see my boss the whole day. I'm pretty sure he thought I spent the whole day teaching in my pajamas (which sounds like a fine idea). Guess this is the price you pay for warmth.
When the single digit weather hit this week all thoughts of dressing for cuteness went out the window-I was dressing purely for function. This meant jeans and thick sweaters-which worked great until I ran out of clean jeans on Wednesday. Unless sweatpants are suddenly considered appropriate work wear I was stuck wearing a dress to work. I attempted to make it warmer with tights and a layered sweater, but the minute I opened the back door I realized I would freeze on my way to the car.
The only practical solution was to layer fleece pajama pants over my dress, wrap a scarf around my head and brave the 20 foot walk to the detached garage (and of course the 10 minutes before my heated seats warmed up). I was quite proud of my innovative fashion sense as I strolled across the icy parking lot into school-my co-workers were shivering and I was toasty warm.
I stepped into the nicely heated building and ran directly into my principal-of course he was nattily attired in a sweater and dress pants. He gave my outfit a once over and I realized how ridiculous I looked. Imagine this: black J. Crew ski cap, black and red Target gloves with a tear in the finger and a strange red pattern along the hand, mint green Colombia jacket (that I've owned since I was in 8th grade) with a few chew marks at the bottom where the dog got her teeth in it and dirt marks from where I fell in the back yard playing with dog. Added to this stylish ensemble were my fuzzy blue pajama pants adorned with jumping and leaping sheep and black riding boots over them. The principal's expression conveyed that he was extremely impressed with my fashion choices (or thought I was slowly losing my mind). He was so impressed he didn't even say anything to me! I'm pretty sure this will reflect positively on me at my next performance review.
Of course when I got to my classroom I slipped off the outerwear that was concealing my work appropriate outfit-and I didn't see my boss the whole day. I'm pretty sure he thought I spent the whole day teaching in my pajamas (which sounds like a fine idea). Guess this is the price you pay for warmth.
Friday, January 9, 2015
An open letter to my dog's former owner
Almost two years ago you made a choice-you made the choice to take the puppy you had owned for 4 whole months to the animal shelter and leave her there. I don't know what prompted the choice you made and your reasoning behind the decision. Maybe you felt that you were making the right choice and the best choice-and in a way you were. The dog you dumped was lucky-she found a home, a good, loving home unlike so many other dogs who end up in shelters. In a way I should be thanking you because if you hadn't made the choice you did I wouldn't have found my soulmate and my best friend.
According to the paperwork you filled out (which you allowed to be shared with me) you are a single mom with three kids. You already owned 2 dogs when you brought mine home-the timing tells me she was probably an ill thought out Christmas present. I imagine your life is pretty busy-what made you think you had time raise another living being on top of the five you were already raising? I struggle to raise just a dog at times-I can't imagine having your life.
We know she was mistreated and we know she's hand shy. We also know that one of the worst forms of mistreatment is the neglect you heaped on her. Puppies are A LOT of work-in order for them to grow up to be well behaved dogs they must be trained, socialized, taken to vet and they take time and money. She wasn't socialized and that led to anxiety about new situations and people. She wasn't taken to the vet. No wonder you had problems with her.
When you dumped her you stated that there was nothing that could happen that would make you want to keep the dog. You said she had accidents on the floor, ran away sometimes (so you tied her up outside) and chewed on things. Might I point out that she was a 6 month old puppy? 6 month old puppies tend to chew on thing (to relieve teething pain or to relieve boredom), they have small bladders and they physically can't hold it-they must be taught and trained. To a dog the rug is a perfectly appropriate place to go to the bathroom until they are taught differently. A dog that is bored and allowed outside with no restraint will run away (trust me I learned that through experience). You stated that she threw up in the car-when your only experience with the car is scary situations (like leaving your mom or going to the animal shelter) you would probably throw up to. Puppies tend to get sick just like kids-the sensation of being in a car is a new one and they have to get used to it. Essentially you didn't have time for her and when the problems became too great you left her. After all she's just a dog and you can always find another free dog on Craigslist. You took a chance that because she was young and cute she would get a home and you did happen to be right.
You got rid of your problem and I have spent the past 2 years working to fix the problems YOU created. I won't let you duck responsibility for your actions-YOU made these problems and YOU left a mess for someone else to clean up.
When she came to us she was 15 pounds underweight. The first thing I did was take her to the vet to update any vaccines she needed and get her checked out. Once she finally had a reliable source of food she started to gain the weight again. I spent months working on finishing her potty training and working with her accidents. I bought more Nature's Miracle and paper towels than I care to admit. When she was left alone she chewed on our door frames, walls, shoes and anything else she could get her teeth into. Once again I paid the vet bill to find out this was not normal puppy chewing-this was separation anxiety. Experts think that separation anxiety is partially genetic so you're off the hook for that one, but I'm not sure that the environment she was living in helped her to feel secure. I paid for the medicine and spent months working on a desensitizing program. We worked our way up to now-she can stay alone for 8-9 hours with no anti-anxiety medicine. It took us almost 2 years to get to this point-in the beginning it was only 30 seconds. We realized her accidents that you so bitterly complained about were a symptom of her disease rather than willful defiance. She was just so utterly thrilled that we returned that she just couldn't contain herself any longer. As her anxiety decreased (and she grew up and gained bladder control) her accidents became less and less. Now they are pretty much a distant memory-all it took was time and patience.
When she got sick from eating drywall it was me who paid the expensive vet bill. Sacrifices were made that month in order to pay it, but it was paid and she got better. It was me who took 2 days off work, 2 days I really didn't have time to take, to take care of her. I was the one who woke up every two hours to give her the medicine she needed. I was the one who cleaned up after her when she lost control of her bowels in the middle of the night. She still got hugs and kisses even though she had made a mess.
I spent months unable to go on a date with my husband or even go grocery shopping without coming home to destruction. We gave up our social life and did the errands in shifts so she wouldn't have to be alone unless it was absolutely necessary. Our times away from the house consisted of work (where I worried about her all day), obedience class and drives around the block to get her used to the car.
We put in the time with her and we have been richly rewarded. She's funny, silly, messy, smart and loyal. She is my best friend and without her a little piece of my heart would be missing. When DH travels I no longer come home to a cold, empty house. I come home to endless unconditional love and a dog who loves to snuggle. When it's 8 degrees outside I have a foot warmer and she never has to worry about spending a night alone in the cold. She loves rides in the car now and I don't think I've been on more random country drives in my life. It makes her happy to watch the scenery and smell the smells. I can go to work, go on a date and travel again-but when I leave her I feel like there is something missing.
Essentially I have what everyone wants when they adopt a dog-a best friend. I assume that is probably what you wanted when you answered that internet ad. If you had been willing to put in the time and energy that is what you would have received, instead you gave up. The dog you gave up is not going to give her love away for free-she has to trust you and you have to show her that you are worthy for her to love you. You didn't take the time to build that bond and you were the one who lost out on one of the best dogs I've ever met.
I think about you a lot and I wonder if I could ever make the decision that you made. I envision scenarios where DH and I are broke and living out of our car. I envision DH and I dying. Somehow in every worst case scenario I can come up with I can't come up with one that would require us to put her back into a shelter. If we're alive we will find a way to care for her-if I gave her up it would be like giving up a piece of me and I couldn't do that to her. If we die we've made arrangements for her to be cared for. There is no way she will ever find herself in another bad situation. I think a lot about the day that she passes away-I know it will come and it devastates me to think about it. However, I know when she does take her last breath we will be there with her. To the very end she will know she was loved and when that day does come it will break my heart. However, I will be able to take comfort in the fact that she will have had a good life and we will have done the best we can for her.
In a way I'm happy you made the decision that you made because you gave me the piece of me I didn't know was missing. Yet I can't help but to be angry with you for giving up on her and for not seeing the dog I see. I mourn for your children who had to experience that loss and the fact that they have now learned that animals are disposable and when you get in over your head it's okay to pass that problem off to someone else. I'm angry that we don't have laws in place that would prevent you from ever owning another animal-from creating the same problems again and again. I can only hope that you learned something from your experience and that the other animals left in your care are being treated better than mine was. I have to thank you for giving me the best gift I've ever received, but I realize I'm the one who did the work. I earned her love and respect-something you never could do.
According to the paperwork you filled out (which you allowed to be shared with me) you are a single mom with three kids. You already owned 2 dogs when you brought mine home-the timing tells me she was probably an ill thought out Christmas present. I imagine your life is pretty busy-what made you think you had time raise another living being on top of the five you were already raising? I struggle to raise just a dog at times-I can't imagine having your life.
We know she was mistreated and we know she's hand shy. We also know that one of the worst forms of mistreatment is the neglect you heaped on her. Puppies are A LOT of work-in order for them to grow up to be well behaved dogs they must be trained, socialized, taken to vet and they take time and money. She wasn't socialized and that led to anxiety about new situations and people. She wasn't taken to the vet. No wonder you had problems with her.
When you dumped her you stated that there was nothing that could happen that would make you want to keep the dog. You said she had accidents on the floor, ran away sometimes (so you tied her up outside) and chewed on things. Might I point out that she was a 6 month old puppy? 6 month old puppies tend to chew on thing (to relieve teething pain or to relieve boredom), they have small bladders and they physically can't hold it-they must be taught and trained. To a dog the rug is a perfectly appropriate place to go to the bathroom until they are taught differently. A dog that is bored and allowed outside with no restraint will run away (trust me I learned that through experience). You stated that she threw up in the car-when your only experience with the car is scary situations (like leaving your mom or going to the animal shelter) you would probably throw up to. Puppies tend to get sick just like kids-the sensation of being in a car is a new one and they have to get used to it. Essentially you didn't have time for her and when the problems became too great you left her. After all she's just a dog and you can always find another free dog on Craigslist. You took a chance that because she was young and cute she would get a home and you did happen to be right.
You got rid of your problem and I have spent the past 2 years working to fix the problems YOU created. I won't let you duck responsibility for your actions-YOU made these problems and YOU left a mess for someone else to clean up.
When she came to us she was 15 pounds underweight. The first thing I did was take her to the vet to update any vaccines she needed and get her checked out. Once she finally had a reliable source of food she started to gain the weight again. I spent months working on finishing her potty training and working with her accidents. I bought more Nature's Miracle and paper towels than I care to admit. When she was left alone she chewed on our door frames, walls, shoes and anything else she could get her teeth into. Once again I paid the vet bill to find out this was not normal puppy chewing-this was separation anxiety. Experts think that separation anxiety is partially genetic so you're off the hook for that one, but I'm not sure that the environment she was living in helped her to feel secure. I paid for the medicine and spent months working on a desensitizing program. We worked our way up to now-she can stay alone for 8-9 hours with no anti-anxiety medicine. It took us almost 2 years to get to this point-in the beginning it was only 30 seconds. We realized her accidents that you so bitterly complained about were a symptom of her disease rather than willful defiance. She was just so utterly thrilled that we returned that she just couldn't contain herself any longer. As her anxiety decreased (and she grew up and gained bladder control) her accidents became less and less. Now they are pretty much a distant memory-all it took was time and patience.
When she got sick from eating drywall it was me who paid the expensive vet bill. Sacrifices were made that month in order to pay it, but it was paid and she got better. It was me who took 2 days off work, 2 days I really didn't have time to take, to take care of her. I was the one who woke up every two hours to give her the medicine she needed. I was the one who cleaned up after her when she lost control of her bowels in the middle of the night. She still got hugs and kisses even though she had made a mess.
I spent months unable to go on a date with my husband or even go grocery shopping without coming home to destruction. We gave up our social life and did the errands in shifts so she wouldn't have to be alone unless it was absolutely necessary. Our times away from the house consisted of work (where I worried about her all day), obedience class and drives around the block to get her used to the car.
We put in the time with her and we have been richly rewarded. She's funny, silly, messy, smart and loyal. She is my best friend and without her a little piece of my heart would be missing. When DH travels I no longer come home to a cold, empty house. I come home to endless unconditional love and a dog who loves to snuggle. When it's 8 degrees outside I have a foot warmer and she never has to worry about spending a night alone in the cold. She loves rides in the car now and I don't think I've been on more random country drives in my life. It makes her happy to watch the scenery and smell the smells. I can go to work, go on a date and travel again-but when I leave her I feel like there is something missing.
Essentially I have what everyone wants when they adopt a dog-a best friend. I assume that is probably what you wanted when you answered that internet ad. If you had been willing to put in the time and energy that is what you would have received, instead you gave up. The dog you gave up is not going to give her love away for free-she has to trust you and you have to show her that you are worthy for her to love you. You didn't take the time to build that bond and you were the one who lost out on one of the best dogs I've ever met.
I think about you a lot and I wonder if I could ever make the decision that you made. I envision scenarios where DH and I are broke and living out of our car. I envision DH and I dying. Somehow in every worst case scenario I can come up with I can't come up with one that would require us to put her back into a shelter. If we're alive we will find a way to care for her-if I gave her up it would be like giving up a piece of me and I couldn't do that to her. If we die we've made arrangements for her to be cared for. There is no way she will ever find herself in another bad situation. I think a lot about the day that she passes away-I know it will come and it devastates me to think about it. However, I know when she does take her last breath we will be there with her. To the very end she will know she was loved and when that day does come it will break my heart. However, I will be able to take comfort in the fact that she will have had a good life and we will have done the best we can for her.
In a way I'm happy you made the decision that you made because you gave me the piece of me I didn't know was missing. Yet I can't help but to be angry with you for giving up on her and for not seeing the dog I see. I mourn for your children who had to experience that loss and the fact that they have now learned that animals are disposable and when you get in over your head it's okay to pass that problem off to someone else. I'm angry that we don't have laws in place that would prevent you from ever owning another animal-from creating the same problems again and again. I can only hope that you learned something from your experience and that the other animals left in your care are being treated better than mine was. I have to thank you for giving me the best gift I've ever received, but I realize I'm the one who did the work. I earned her love and respect-something you never could do.
She's happy and loved now-and for that you should be thankful.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Heigh ho, heigh ho back to school we go
Yesterday was the first day back with my 8th graders after a 19 day break! I was happy to be back with them, but dang was it hard getting back into the routine. I love the fact that teaching allows me the freedom that I want for my life since I do have these long breaks-but I love getting back to the structure of my classroom and having a routine for my day.
One stumbling block in my plan to finding a career that would allow me to stay home is the fact that I'm HORRIBLE without my routine. I made myself a 2 page list of things to accomplish over break and completed just a few of them. I can always find things to distract myself from the drudgery of work (like snuggling with DH or the cute puppy). Spending time with my family trumps every other thing in my life.
It was nice to be back to work, but oh how I haven't missed those 6:00 am wake-up calls! I'm definitely NOT a morning person-as evidenced by the fact that DH usually spends 20 minutes trying to get me out of bed in the morning! Yesterday was even tougher as I had spent Sunday night in the emergency room and I was still struggling through the effects of a morphine shot and a significant sleep deficit. (Nothing to be concerned about-just a small little thing that I will be discussing in more detail later). I made it through the day (just barely) and was so relieved when I finally got home.
Usually the first day back is tough for the kiddos as well-they are amped up to see their friends and SO not in the mood for schoolwork. I have pretty awesome classroom management skills so I don't usually deal with major problems, but we still have more than usual on days before and after break. Yesterday I explained to my kids that I wasn't feeling well and asked them for awesome sauce behavior and they ALL complied! It was awesome that they were compassionate and gave me what I needed to not go crazy. That's one reason why I LOVE teaching middle school-underneath all that kid behavior you start to get glimpses of the adults they are becoming (sometimes that's not a good thing).
Today I'm feeling much better and I've accomplished more today than I did over all of break! :) I even managed to get a massage and facial scheduled for myself on Saturday to give myself a mini-break! Many many doctors over the past 8 months have told me that I need to destress and try to find ways to relax. I will admit that I'm terrible at relaxing-I have a type-A personality for crying out loud! Relaxing is not in my vocabulary! DH is a total type-B and is probably the most laid back person I've ever met. He rarely yells at other drivers while I spend my 25 minute commute shouting at everyone else (I'm not really yelling-rather I'm providing corrections for their behavior). DH also doesn't panic if the suitcases aren't unpacked the minute we get home from a trip (he has a tendency to leave his packed suitcase in the middle of the living room floor for 2 weeks), but he does freak out over dishes in the sink. Honestly if I relaxed we would live in further squalor and disaster than we usually do since neither of us would be getting done-who would panic over the finances, the dog's vaccinations, her diet, the grocery shopping and the million and one things that need to get done. After the ER scare on Sunday I'm making a concerted effort to relax more and one way of doing that is to spend 75.00 on a spa day-I have a feeling that won't make me relax any more than burning it in the yard would but I'm giving it a shot.
I will say I feel a heck of a lot more relaxed now that I'm back at work and structured. I even got a ton of Christmas shopping done over my plan period today :)
One stumbling block in my plan to finding a career that would allow me to stay home is the fact that I'm HORRIBLE without my routine. I made myself a 2 page list of things to accomplish over break and completed just a few of them. I can always find things to distract myself from the drudgery of work (like snuggling with DH or the cute puppy). Spending time with my family trumps every other thing in my life.
It was nice to be back to work, but oh how I haven't missed those 6:00 am wake-up calls! I'm definitely NOT a morning person-as evidenced by the fact that DH usually spends 20 minutes trying to get me out of bed in the morning! Yesterday was even tougher as I had spent Sunday night in the emergency room and I was still struggling through the effects of a morphine shot and a significant sleep deficit. (Nothing to be concerned about-just a small little thing that I will be discussing in more detail later). I made it through the day (just barely) and was so relieved when I finally got home.
Usually the first day back is tough for the kiddos as well-they are amped up to see their friends and SO not in the mood for schoolwork. I have pretty awesome classroom management skills so I don't usually deal with major problems, but we still have more than usual on days before and after break. Yesterday I explained to my kids that I wasn't feeling well and asked them for awesome sauce behavior and they ALL complied! It was awesome that they were compassionate and gave me what I needed to not go crazy. That's one reason why I LOVE teaching middle school-underneath all that kid behavior you start to get glimpses of the adults they are becoming (sometimes that's not a good thing).
Today I'm feeling much better and I've accomplished more today than I did over all of break! :) I even managed to get a massage and facial scheduled for myself on Saturday to give myself a mini-break! Many many doctors over the past 8 months have told me that I need to destress and try to find ways to relax. I will admit that I'm terrible at relaxing-I have a type-A personality for crying out loud! Relaxing is not in my vocabulary! DH is a total type-B and is probably the most laid back person I've ever met. He rarely yells at other drivers while I spend my 25 minute commute shouting at everyone else (I'm not really yelling-rather I'm providing corrections for their behavior). DH also doesn't panic if the suitcases aren't unpacked the minute we get home from a trip (he has a tendency to leave his packed suitcase in the middle of the living room floor for 2 weeks), but he does freak out over dishes in the sink. Honestly if I relaxed we would live in further squalor and disaster than we usually do since neither of us would be getting done-who would panic over the finances, the dog's vaccinations, her diet, the grocery shopping and the million and one things that need to get done. After the ER scare on Sunday I'm making a concerted effort to relax more and one way of doing that is to spend 75.00 on a spa day-I have a feeling that won't make me relax any more than burning it in the yard would but I'm giving it a shot.
I will say I feel a heck of a lot more relaxed now that I'm back at work and structured. I even got a ton of Christmas shopping done over my plan period today :)
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Days in my life that I've felt grown up
By all rights and purposes I am a grown up. I can smoke, drink, serve in the armed forces, make decisions for myself and rent a car without the underage penalty. Someone also thought that I was mature and responsible enough to be in charge of 120 8th graders for 8 hours a day. However, I usually don't feel grown up, more like a kid pretending. DH and I lived together for almost 4 years before getting married and for most of that time I felt that we were just playing house and my real home was in my childhood bedroom. There has only been a few times in my life that I've kind of felt slightly grown up. In no particular order:
1. Signing the closing papers on my first house. There is nothing more humbling than signing the papers to owe the bank more money than you've ever owed anybody. My hair was wet from an ill-timed shower and DH was late after getting lost on the way to the bank. I had to go home because I forgot to bring the checkbook and I couldn't find a parking space.
2. The first night I spent in my first house: the day my then-fiancée (now DH) and I finally moved out of our rental was a freezing cold January day with a sprinkling of snow on the ground. Both sets of parents came to help us move and we took everyone out to Chilis for dinner. That night we announced our week old engagement and after celebrating we returned to our first grown up house. My parents snapped a picture of us standing on the front porch with our arms wrapped around each other. We look terrified and much too young to be homeowners. That night we curled up together in our brand new queen size bed (a gift from Grandma) and tried to adjust to the strange noises that an old house makes.
3. The first day of my teaching career: I was 21 years old and four months removed from the college lifestyle. I had been hired a week before the first day of school and I was woefully unprepared for my first crop of students (I taught 7th grade at a different school from my current one for one year). I stood up before my first class and launched into my first day presentation while trying to keep my voice steady and quell the butterflies in my stomach. It was absolutely terrifying to realize that I was solely responsible for these kids and their success or failure. I was a terrible teacher that first year before I finally learned everything I should of learned during 4 years of college.
4. The day we adopted our dog: I had been begging for a dog for quite awhile and on a bright June day we picked out our sweet puppy. The adoption went quick and before we knew it we were loading her up in the back of my SUV and taking her home. She puked all over the backseat less than a mile from the shelter and it was the first time I'd ever cleaned up anyone's bodily fluids without gagging. After we got home and got her settled in DH went back to town to get some sorely needed dog supplies and dinner for us while I stayed home with the new addition. Once he left she followed me from room to room and I ended up sobbing in the bedroom because I was afraid I would never love her and that I would never be alone again. She was so clingy it scared me, but within a week we were inseparable.
5. The first time I was sick alone: My junior year of college I got pretty sick and was confined to my apartment for a week. I lived alone and my parents weren't nearby so this was my first time being truly alone and sick. Due to the nature of my illness people couldn't come over so I was really alone. When I was hungry I couldn't rely on mom to make me food, it was up to me to check my temperature, make myself food and keep myself in a steady supply of Gatorade and trashy tv. I lost 6 pounds in a week, but I learned how to take care of myself.
7. Traveling in Europe by myself: Last summer DH had to go to France for work. For the cost of a plane ticket I got to tag along and crash in his company paid hotel room. During the day he worked and I was on my own. I roamed all over the Loire Valley on the train and tried to make myself understood by the locals. My French is atrocious and I had no fallback plan, my cell phone was turned off and I was alone in a foreign country. The most marvelous part of the trip was roaming through Paris alone and eating dinner under the Eiffel Tower all by myself. I gained so much confidence in myself and my abilities to communicate and navigate. Prior to this trip I tended to rely on other people to plan my trips for me (namely my mom and DH) and to take care of me. I had never been to Europe without my mom and she lived in Germany and Italy and speaks eight languages fluently so she has no problem getting around. This trip was the best trip because I made the schedule (or lack thereof) and decided what to do and where to eat. I could sit on a bench reading my book for an hour and watching the people go by instead of rushing to activity after activity. I was able to absorb the true flavor of the country instead of just the stuff tourists see. It was a truly inspiring trip that made me more confident and inspired me to take more risks (my type A personality is totally against risk) and live less of a scheduled life.
Every time I have a new experience (writing my first thousand dollar check, buying a car, setting up a retirement account or writing my will) I feel just a little bit more grown up, it's like it sinks in just a little more that I really am a grown up. You may have noticed that my wedding didn't make the list, I really didn't feel grown up after marriage. DH and I had lived together for 4 years and the wedding was just another day in our life. He makes me feel like a kid (and he acts like one a lot) and he just completes me-it would feel unnatural not to be with him so marriage didn't really change our lives. However, when I look around at friends who are my age (or younger) that are popping out babies I shudder to think that I'm theoretically old enough to be someone's mother (other than my puppy). What experiences make you feel like a "real" adult?
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