Picking my battle

So I am learning quickly people are not what they seem.  

Yes, I am just figuring this out.  

I know I am too old not to know this by now but I always figure people are good at heart they just need a chance to show it. I am learning and to my pessimistic friends chagrin (feel the sarcasm), when it comes to people they are right on. 

People are not good at heart.

This was one pass worth of dirt caked inside the cabinets.

I guess it comes from the nature of the human.  At the core of our instincts we take care of ourself first and then our family or our pack, screw everyone else who is in the way.  

I subscribe to a very different mind set but lately it has not served me well.  I have been walked over and treated badly and drug through the mud, for what seems to be mostly for the sport of it, by these people who always hide behind the idea they are taking care of themselves and theirs and they do so by kicking the nice guy.

What ever happened to helping a brother out? What happened to paying it forward?  What happened to doing the right thing because it was the "right thing" to do?  Why is it people still subscribe to the mentality that this is a kill or be killed style society?  We are long past the days where this mind set applies.  Just think, if we all spent more time holding ourselves accountable for our actions we would spend a lot less time in court fighting over who's fault it is.  I have to believe those who are wrong know they are wrong, they are just trying to get away with something.

This is the trash that was left for me when I
 moved in, yep just sitting on the floor.

And sometimes they do.

That's the real shame of it.  There is a benefit for being a jerk.  A benefit for getting one over on someone else and there are people who feel good about it. (I feel bad if the checker forgets to charge me for something at the store and have been known for going back in so I could pay for it).  So those who get enjoyment out of pulling one over on someone else really cause me to stand back and ponder.  

I made the mistake of moving a carpet, this was
what was underneath.

As I settle into what is the inevitable fight with my current landlord, I wonder why he is choosing to fight this with me.  He has to know in his heart of hearts that he did not do what he was supposed to do.  He has to know I shouldn't be responsible to live with his mistakes and he should know the right thing to do to make the situation better would be to fix the problems the right way or to let me out of the lease and he can visit the place in the summer and live in it any way he wants, plumbing and electrical issues and all.  But no he insists on making me live through this mess. 

This was the mess on the floor that was
left in just part of the bathroom.

The courts will have their say but the part that makes me uneasy is that I could quite possibly lose.  I could possibly be told not that he wasn't right in doing what he did but that in my case the law may not protect me.  And through no real fault of my own, except I refuse to pay good money to not live in a clean and healthy environment, I could possibly have to pay this man lots of money for not wanting to put up with being treated like crap.   Sending him the message that not only can he not take care of his rental property but then he can also treat people like crap and when they stick to their guns and say this is not ok, he can still profit.  

I am hoping of course the opposite message is sent but either way, I am sticking to my guns.  This time I'm not playing. I picked my battle win or lose, when it comes to this  there is no more Mr. nice guy...er...gal.

All the personal belongings they left me, well not
 all just what was on this desk ..in one room.

What's in a name?

In a small town, similar to an episode of cheers, everybody knows your name.  Everyone knows what you do for a living and who your kids are and they refer to where you live by who has lived there before you not by the address.  But it is official my kids have earned little monikers from the locals.

My son is "the reader".  He walks to school in the mornings always book in hand and as his name would suggest, he is reading it.  He walks and reads. Sometimes not always successfully, but none the less he is "the reader".  He takes his book to restaurants and on the ferry and sometimes he even gets yelled at by a teacher for reading in class when he is suppose to be listening to something else.

My daughter is the "sweet girl".  She earned her name just the other day.  She was waiting in line for her breakfast at the cafe and an older gentleman was waiting behind her.  When she got to the counter and it was her turn to order, she noticed the man behind her and allowed him to go in front of her.  This in and of itself was not a huge feat but to that man it made all the difference.  After ordering he went around telling everyone in the cafe about the "sweet little girl"and went out of his way to tell me how lucky I am to have her.

The next day at the same cafe I ran into a parent of one of my students and she looked at me said, " oh I know who your kids are, your kids are the reader and the sweet little girl".  I smiled and shook my head and said, "Yes, yes they are".

Today was a gray day

Fall has come to Maine quick and without looking back or apology has changed the days from sunny warm beach days to foggy gray breezy days.  Here it's already sweater weather and rain boots are a must.  The nights already have the nip that have us wearing sweat pants under blankets on the couch and requesting hot chocolate and marshmallows while we watch our favorite shows.  I turned on my heater for the first time last night and settled under the cover of my down blanket to get warm.

This morning it was sunny but still cold.  We walked to the market to pick up our weekly groceries and so my children could spend their allowance and it was the perfect weather for a light coat and a long walk.

The evening fog has already started to settle in here at about 3:00 in the afternoon but I realized something as I watched it come over the ocean to my front door...we will be having soup for dinner.

Well that and something else.  

I like the gray day.  It makes me feel guilt free for spending the day inside.   While I am inside  I can bake.  Today it was the kids' favorite, chocolate chip muffins.  I like how the oven warms the house and fills it with the sweet smell of something yummy.  I like having an excuse to sit on the couch and read a magazine with my feet up for at least 20 minutes while the baking is happening.  I like the less chaotic atmosphere of a lazy day that seem to be brought about by fog and chilly weather.

The house is quieter.  The animals less hyper.  The children more content.  The mom more relaxed all under the aroma of chocolate chip muffins!

I have been warned about these gray days by many people, saying they have a tendency to bring on bouts of depression.  And although I can see where they are coming from I like the effect they have on my family.

Tonight we will snuggle in for some potato soup, some sweat pants and warm blankets and a good movie together, and for the first time since we got here, we will have some relaxing family time that doesn't involve leaving the house or breaking the bank.

Today has brought my family some peace and for that I say bring on the gray days and let all gray days be days like today.

I'm glad

I started the weekend off bad and I continued the weekend in a grumpy and solem fashion.  In fact, as I sit here typing, making every effort to be in a better mood by listening to my signature bubble gum pop from the 80's, I am still not sure if I have shaken the grey cloud following me, raining on my parade.

My reasons for being in a sour mood seem to really be irrelevant especially since the minutia of the details sound stupid the more I repeat them.  I am more focused on the idea of why some people feel the need to nit pick on the lives of others, why the most judgmental people go around accusing others of being just that, why is it people have lost the ability to confront people with the idea of coming to an understanding rather than just to fight and see who can yell the loudest and swap the most insults?

When did everything become defensive?

There inlies my problem with life.  I live life more on the offense.  I do my best to walk through life just trying to do the "right" things.  Meaning for me, I say please, thank you and excuse me.  I always hold the door for people, use my blinker in traffic, try to walk in the shoes of some one else before approaching them with any situation, rarely fly off the cuff on anyone, don't blame others for my short comings and try to understand why they may find something I did to cause them anger or dismay.  I believe in face to face communication not because I revel in confrontation but rather to avoid it by being able to read body language and facial expression.  I believe in telling the truth, trying to create understanding, and just letting people live.  I smile at strangers.  In essence, I believe most people are doing the best they can in the circumstance they are in.

 I am naive.

I figure by trying to live in a way where I try to give understanding a head of time I would have less conflict in life.  I thought people would afford me a similar understanding, because I treat them in a respectful manner, I too would be respected.

This is just not the case.

It is possible some see my attitude as condescending, irritating or maybe even devious.  So they're response to me is unkind.  It is possible some people look at me and find something about me to be leery of.  I wish I knew what it was cause being treated poorly sucks.

But I move forward in my normal fashion.  Trying to not let it show their behavior weighs on my mind and makes life just a little harder.  I still smile at strangers and hold the door open and over all press forward with a positive attitude.  It does make me think though, is this the wrong response.  I mean what message am I sending?  Maybe it would be beneficial for me to just open up and let someone really have it, maybe as a warning to everyone else that comes after.  To be honest, occasionally someone will gets a piece of me, I just don't make it a habit.

Just trying to make sense of the world from the perspective of a sensitive optimist's point of view.

I pondered all these question as my weekend continued to just be lack luster and as I sunk into the the idea that I once again was done wrong for no reason except someone just felt the need, my daughter spotted this lady outside the grocery store selling gladiolas.  She insisted on buying some.


After arranging the flowers on the dinning room table when we returned home I asked her why she wanted flowers.  She responded, " No one else was buying them and she worked hard to grow them.  I thought I should be nice and buy some.  She had a baby mom, she needs the money for her family".  It dawned on me right then that I have instilled the idea in my children they can change the world simply by doing something nice for someone. They are offensive in their approach to life.   Hopefully, I didn't do them a diservice.

Not in my classroom

The issues which plague the school system seem to be everywhere.  Not enough money, not enough teachers, and kids that are just down right obnoxious.  No matter where I teach there are a few kids who seem to have escaped the oppressive hands of a disciplinarian for a parent.

Today I received a few odd looks over such a child.

I waiting for my class to come in for their drama lesson today and the teacher enters the auditorium with her class as usual  only today it is obvious she is having problems with one child in particular.  The teacher asks him to take a seat, he says "NEVER".

She asks him to calm down and keep his hands to himself, again he responds "NEVER".

She continues to ask him to behave which his only response is to yell at her.  She asks him for about the tenth time to stop doing something disruptive, mind you I have yet to start class because this child is acting up the way he is, and this time instead of yelling at the teacher he kicks her.

Yes, that's right he kicks the teacher in the leg.

I waited for her to say something, I was appalled.  She responded by again asking him to stop his behavior and his response as you can guess was...."NEVER" and he kicks her again.

I could no longer handle seeing this and thought to myself, heck no this will not happen in my theatre!  So I knelt down beside his teacher looked the child square in the eyes and in a firm tone told him, " Look, (insert child's name here) you will not act this way in my classroom.  You are disrespecting your teacher and I will not have that.  We do not kick people. We do not yell at people and if you are going to continue to do so you will be removed from my classroom.  You will not be mean".

The kid looked a little wide eyed at me but he stopped right away.

But it was not his expression I worried about it was the other teacher's.  She looked a little wide eyed as well but then responds to my comment to the child with, "Oh he's autistic".

"um ok", I responded .

I think she expected me to some how excuse his behavior because he was autistic.  Somehow having this disability excuses his poor behavior.

Now, I have a child with Asperge'rs syndrome (a form of autism) so I am familiar with the behavior traits of kids within the autism spectrum.  I get it, I really do.  But I also know for a fact, without a doubt my child never kicked a teacher.  And I have taught many children with autism and none of them have ever kicked a teacher either...kicking someone is not a function of his autism it was a function of his parenting.

This child was capable of understanding rules and consequences. When I was firm with him he stopped.  So why did the teacher give me such a look?  I think she thinks I was too hard on the child.  But children need boundaries and even though I was not the one he was kicking I felt I had no choice but to show him those boundaries.  

I run a tight ship.  My classroom is fun but there are rules.  Be aware that no teacher will be mistreated in the confines of my auditorium.  I am a firm believer there is no excuse for bad behavior but children need to be taught.  And yes all children can be taught how to behave.

It would have made more sense for the teacher to look at me and say, " Oh his parents, they don't make him follow rules".

Out my front door

View from the front room of my house

So my drama with my rental house has been an ongoing saga of crap.

I have been without electricity for a few days and I am currently without the ability to take a shower or do dishes because the waste water (not sewer) is leaking into the basement and has left standing water.  It is all on the way to being fixed but because there is no Home Depot here and the hours the hardware store does keep does not include Sundays or heck not even Saturday afternoons, it is a slow process.

This house has been the bain of my existence since I moved.  The landlord is not a nice or even close to honest person, the house is old and riddled with loads of issues that seem to have escaped everyone but me.  Everyday it seems I find something else to add to the list of "things that need to be fixed".

I want to move and by all means I have enough legal grounds to break my lease and go somewhere else. But as the repairs are done and my frustration subsides I remember what is out my front door.

I remember the reasons that eventually lead me to make the move are no longer the lingering issues they once where but most of all I look at the my kids and realize they are happy.

Happy.

My tree in my front yard.

A word that has escaped me for so long.  Life hasn't been good to me in the past few years with few exceptions.  As I battle this house though I am realizing it is my only real battle and I am winning.  Things are being fixed and cleaned and they will work properly.  I am on the winning side of the battles I now am up against rather than feeling like I am constantly sliding backwards.

This house is frustrating and I am sure this battle is not finished by a long shot but I feel like when I step outside my front door, outside the problems at hand I realize the problems I have, from a new perspective, are not problems much at all but merely things that need a new coat a paint or to be tweaked.  These things are part of life.  Anyone's life.

By stepping outside my problems for a minute, by opening my front door and walking outside I can allow myself to take in the beauty that surrounds me and goes unnoticed because I have almost forgot how to see it. I can literally walk to the ocean from my house I just have to cross the street.  I have a wonderful white and pink hydrangea tree in my front yard that is spectacular and my kids think this is the best place on earth and are thriving.

So when I am frustrated about the house and all the problems it has and all the headaches it gives me I need to remember to step out my front door because the world just outside the walls of my problems looks pretty darn good for the first time in a long time.  It's all about perspective 

Out of sight...

Finding out who your friends are always comes when you don't want it to.

I moved over 2100 miles away from Colorado less than a month ago and I have already been made aware of who really cares and who doesn't.  With all the conveniences of modern day you'd think it would be easy to keep in touch with people.  But apparently when I moved I made it too damn hard for people to keep in touch.

So I am not accused of being one sided, I do live on an island making cell phone use almost impossible, so the casual texters and the once is awhile chats with some people may stop simply because they may not have my new number but those aren't the people I am really referring to anyway.  I am talking about the people who made a big deal about me moving and don't bother to return my phone calls or chat with me via any other myriad of different technological ways one can with people and most of them being free.

Why say keep in touch if you really have no intention on doing so? Why bother making a big deal about me moving away if it really is an out of sight out of mind thing.

Are friendships with people such a disposable thing that once they are no longer right beside us to draw upon them when we need them that we just drop them?  I guess I am old school and I like to believe loyalty still exists among friends, I just now know which ones those are for me.

Thank the deity you believe in for family. The kind you were born into and the kind we chose.  Family never really seems to forget you exist whether you are 2100 miles away or right next door,  no matter if they call just to fight with you or if they are just checking up on how your doing, they are there.

Even though today I have a lot less friends than I had a few months ago, I still have my family.  It makes it seem like I have everything I need.

being from aways

The community I moved to recently has a year population of about 1,200 people.  The vacation community during the summer raises that number by about seven times, so it is safe to say one of the favorite past times of the locals here is making fun of those of us that are from "aways".

Spoken mostly in a thick Boston accent with a twist, they will openly poke fun.  Most of the locals already know who I am and who my kids are, so they never hold back.  

Today after work I strolled to the parking lot with a co-worker and my daughter asked for my keys so she could get in the car.  She pushed the little unlock button on the key fob and the car beeped and the doors unlocked.  Now this is something most of us do several times a day and sometimes without even knowing we did it.  How many times have you stood in the parking lot wondering if you locked your car?  

Through her roaring laughter my co-workers asked me for clarification, "Did you just unlock your car"?

I responded a little sheepishly, " Ahhh...yeah".  

She laughed harder.  

Cause here locking your car accomplishes as much as going to the bank on Sunday.  

She joked with me in her heavy accent , " Oh you people from aways and your keys.  Who do you think is gonna take your ca?  and even if they did where do you suppose they'd take it"?  she laughed harder, the thought was so absurd.

She had a point.  I live on an island, the only way on or off the island is your own personal boat or the ferry.  And one can't just get on the ferry, it's a pretty involved procedure that has to take place 24 hours ahead of time.  

I felt dumb.  But I am a city girl... that makes me giggle a little bit Colorado Springs is never what I thought of as a CITY.  But I am a city girl if we don't lock our cars they may not be there when we get back.  Old habits die hard and although I am getting used to letting my kids take the 2 block walk to the candy store alone, I think it will take a long time before the locals see me leave my keys in the ignition.  

I am the spider ninja

Spider on the side of my house this morning. The body about the size of a silver dollar.

I hate spiders.

No one told me that Maine has more spiders per square foot than jelly beans in one of those "guess how many" jars at the county fair.  I am not at all exaggerating.


Not even a little bit... ok maybe a little bit.

But to someone who hates spiders it doesn't feel like an exaggeration. I go out every morning with a broom and sweep the spiders off my house who have diligently made their nightly webs there.  I am not just talking little spiders either I am talking about spiders whose mid section can span the width of a quarter and even silver dollar, sized spiders.

Great oogly boogly!

Just to clarify I am not afraid of spiders I just don't like them.  I think they are dirty and ugly and gross. I apologize to everyone out there who will undoubtedly fight on the behalf of the spider for their right to live.  I am sure you will be quick to remind me all the good they do by eating my second biggest enemy of the state - the mosquito!

I just don't care.

They can live anywhere else.  Just not in my house or on my house.  I may feel differently about them if they didn't bite us...maybe a little bit different...nah probably not.  Maybe if they were purple with pretty wings and granted wishes ... maybe.

Since moving to Maine I am on a one woman mission to get the word out to these spider folks my house needs to be left alone.  I am the spider ninja!  Ok, well maybe I am not a ninja but I kick some spider butt every morning armed with my straw broom.  Here's hoping some maimed spiders go back and tell their other little spider friends to not build their webs on my house in fear of the spider ninja's revenge!

This blog entry is dedicated to the spider in the picture. Whom I unleashed the power of the broom on this morning right after he let me take his picture...may you rest in peace big guy.

first (k)new thing

I know moving is hard.  I don't like it.  I recently decided to make the move across the country to Maine from Colorado.  Like predicted it was hard and I didn't like the process.  Even though it seemed I had all my ducks in a row weeks leading up to the actual move, some things just don't seem to go as planned.  Anytime you have to rely on someone else to do something for you the margin of error increases.

Being I do not own my own moving truck, shipping company, gas station, ferry (I moved to an island) or anything else I needed to move my things cross country my margine of error was increasing exponentially.

Surprisingly, the move itself went well.  Yes, my things arrived late and my phone took almost two weeks to turn on and my internet took even longer.  The margin of error I seemed to escape with the move it self,  all came to a head when it came to the disaster that was my rental property.

I could spend hours describing the disgusting conditions my poor escuse for a landlord expected me to move into. The dirt and the grime that existed on every inch of floors and walls and the mounds of the personal possessions he expected me to sort through (down to old tooth brushes and stacks of magazines ) and the spiders and their webs that had already taken up residence in the house.  I could rehash the conversation I had with him over the phone when I brought it to his attention that the house was a mess and where he insulted me multiple times and told me "my expectations were too high"  or that "I should suck it up" but I'd rather spend my time on what came after.

Frustrated and upset I approached my principal (I moved to Maine to teach) and told him without a suitable rental I would be returning home to Colorado. He said he would take care of it because making sure his teachers were happy was his highest priority.  I was a little unsure of the meaning of his response.

What happened next was nothing short of incredible.

The next day several faculty members including my principal came to my rental property mops and cleaning supplies in hand.  They scrubbed, they mopped, they painted.  They moved out the old and dusty old furniture and boxed up the personal belongings that engulfed the house and in a matter of hours took the house from being a disaster to ready to move in.  I met most of my colleagues for the first time this day and they were all just happy to help.

I had never before experienced the generosity or goodwill from a group of people like I had on this day never mind it was a  group of people I had never met.

 I was sure I knew how this was going to turn out but instead it renewed my faith in people and community.  Forever in debt to this experience.