House Hunting

Major life announcement:  Rex and I are looking for a house.

To buy.

To keep.

Not to rent.

That means that we're talking about a purchase worth $100,000+ dollars.  That's a LOT of money.  Wasn't it just a little while ago that we were eating ramen noodles and stealing fruit from the cafeteria?!  When did we suddenly grow up?  This is strange.  I feel like we're playing house.  Like, "Okay, Rex.  You go in the living room and pretend to be the husband reading a newspaper, and I'll pretend to be the wife in the kitchen."  I feel like I'm playing with dollhouses, but they're just all really big and Rex and I are the dolls.  It feels very surreal.  Rex and I both have stable jobs that we love in Kalamazoo, though, so we figure perhaps we might as well buy a house and stop throwing away money on rent every month.  We've moved five times in the four years that we've been married, so I'm definitely ready to camp out in one place for a while.  It makes sense, I suppose, but it still seems strange.  There's no way around it now: we're grown-ups.  *shudder*

House hunting isn't easy when you're married to Rex Webb.  He basically wants to live in a pioneer cabin in the middle of Snow White's enchanted forest, where we can frolic with animals and stay away from all evils of human society.  The less modern, the better.  Let's get an outhouse!  Let's buy a horse to ride to the market! Let's grow and/or kill all of our own food!   Let's buy that Amish house that's not wired for electricity!  (Oh, if only I was joking on those last two...)

Here's the tough thing:  I love my husband more than life itself, and I would do anything to make him happy.  It would be awesome, though, if we could make him happy in a house that has electricity and indoor plumbing.  I don't think that's too much to ask.  I want a house that would have a relatively short commute to work, because I've done a forty minute commute for a few years, and it's horrible.  I can't even imagine doing that in the snow. If that ends up being the case, I may have to abandon the car altogether and ride one of our enchanted deer.

No houses are "country" enough for Rex and still close enough to the city for me.  It's been a tough search.  Also, I like modern appliances and a fresh, new look, and he likes wood paneling and exposed brick walls.  Aaaargh!  It's like trying to find a house to satisfy the Duchess of Cambridge and also Daniel Boone.  Tricky if not impossible.

Believe it or not, the search has still been a lot of fun.  It's not yielding a ton of feasible options, but we're having fun looking!  Basically anything's fun with Rex around.  We toured one house that is FOR SURE haunted (I asked the realtor if the ghosts costs extra), and we went to one house where the basement was totally flooded!  Whoa!  The realtor took one look and said, "Wow...um...they didn't advertise the indoor swimming pool down here."  Ha ha.  We went to a house that had a rock-wall and dirt floor basement (which Rex loved, obviously).  We went to one that advertised a barn out back (and there was a very nice picture of it on the website), but when we arrived the barn had completely caved in and was a pile of boards!  Oh no!  I certainly feel bad for those homeowners...that one's going to be a tough sell.

So anyway, big life changes are on the horizon for the Webb family...or maybe not if we can never find a house that fits us both.  :-/  I will be sure to update you if we find anything!

The Crock Pot Catastrophe

Dear Hamilton Beach,

I received one of your crock pots for my wedding four years ago.  My husband and I had registered for your fantastic programmable, multi-setting, futuristic fobuloso model with the built in handle, and one of our friends or relatives was kind enough to buy it for us.  Since then, I've used it a lot.  Until today, it's been great.  It's been the best crock pot ever.  It's been a "pass-this-down-to-your-grandchildren-as-long-as-something-cooler-hasn't-been-invented-yet" crock pot.  I had visions of myself teaching the younger generations my recipes for chicken tortilla soup or buffalo chicken and saying, "This is the same crock pot I used when I first botched these recipes fifty years ago."

Alas, Hamilton Beach.  It wasn't to be.

Today, I was cooking a dinner for my in-laws.  Do you have in-laws, Hamilton Beach worker?  Because if you do, you understand the importance of making a good dinner when they come over.  I put the meal in the crock pot when I left for work in the morning, and when I got home from work I walked over to it to check on the food.  I put my hand on the lid to lift it, and....

BOOOOOM!
CRASH!
SHATTER!
AAAAAAAAAHHHHEEEEEEEE!!

(that last sound effect was me, not the crock pot)

The lid of the crock pot exploded into a thousand shards of glittering glass that rained down on me, my kitchen, and my carefully prepared meal.  I'm having some post-traumatic stress just thinking about it.  The lid literally exploded.  If I hadn't recoiled in mortal terror, I could have gotten a shard of glass in my EYE.  Then I'd be sitting in a hospital bed calling a lawyer instead of writing this letter, and also shopping on Amazon for fashionable eye patches.  Also possibly looking at a career switch into piracy, but that's neither here nor there.

THE POINT IS - there are only two logical explanations for why my crock pot exploded today:

1. There was some sort of manufacturing defect
2. Someone is trying to kill me

Now, you and I don't know each other very well, Hamilton Beach worker, but I'm a very likable person.  I don't have many enemies.  There was this one time in elementary school where I won "queen of the playground" and the girl I beat out wasn't too happy about it, but that was fifteen years ago so I'm pretty sure she's over it.  We're actually friends now.  I didn't flunk any students this semester, so none of them are seeking revenge.  Oh, did I mention I'm a teacher?  A TEACHER.  Who hates teachers?  No one.  Who wants to kill teachers for their vast amounts of money?  DEFINITELY NO ONE.  So see?  It wasn't an attempt on my life.  Therefore, it was definitely a manufacturing defect.  I'm not sure exactly what.....but something is wrong.  Maybe one of your workers stuffed a time-bomb in one of your products and set it for four years out.  Who knows?  Basically, I'm an unhappy customer.  You should know that selling products that explode is bad business (unless of course you're selling grenades or bombs, which you are not).  I would like a refund or a new slow cooker, but definitely not the same one I just had.  I wouldn't be able to use it without running screaming from the kitchen every time it's time to check the food.  *shudder*

Anyway, let me know what you can do.  In the mean time, I'll be eating fast food and contemplating whether or not I can sue for getting fat since I couldn't eat my home-cooked meal.

Sincerely,
Christine

Empty Nest

I think teaching is a small shadow of parenting.  I know the love I have for my students is nothing compared to how much their parents love them, but I think it could be compared to a shadow of the real thing.  Actually, I've decided that the whole concept of a school year mimics the parenting process.  I have to go through all of the emotional ups and downs of the 18+ year process in one nine-month span.  Observe:

Nesting:  Parents make a nursery full of cutesy themes and fun furniture.  They decorate and try to make everything perfect for their new little arrival.  Teachers also have to decide on classroom themes and do a bunch of decorating in preparation for the new year of students.  Both groups utilize a lot of Pinterest ideas.

First Day:  This is pretty self-explanatory.  Parents have an exciting day of birth that's exhausting and exciting and terrifying all at once.  Those are the same three words I would use to describe the first day of school.

No Sleep Stage:  Common in the beginning of a new parent's life, this happens at the beginning of the school year too.  September is always a blur of lesson plans, getting to know new parents, staying late, arriving early, and generally dedicating your life to the group of kids in your care this year.  It's a 24/7 job for that first month, and I'm always looking forward to October.

Kids Love You Stage:  Toddlers and elementary-aged students tend to think that their parents can do no wrong.  They frequently say "I love you" and fear parental disappointment more than anything else. At the beginning of the school year, students are so excited to have a new teacher that virtually everything the teacher does is "awesome" and "fun."  The teacher is like a shiny new toy that the kids got for Christmas, and they haven't figured out all of the gadgets on it yet.  They're eager to please and eager to see what kind of fabulous lesson plan the teacher will think up next.

Kids Hate You Stage:  For parents, this rebellious stage usually hits in the teenage years.  For teachers, it usually hits around Spring Break.  Kids decide that they're sick of school, it's time for summer, and the same homework you've been assigning all year is suddenly "so hard" and "completely ridiculous."  Teachers too are a bit tired by this time, but they have to buckle down and regain control in order to power through their curriculum by the end of the year.  Both students and teachers start countdowns to summer.

Empty Nester: Right at the end of the school year, when the summer they've been counting down to finally arrives, teachers get a little bit sad.  After all, they've invested in these kids all year.  They've cheered for their victories and been heartbroken by their defeats.  They've walked by them through their struggles.  They've watched these students grow in multiple ways, and now it's time to watch them move on.  This is like when parents have to watch their kids go off to college, realizing that their baby grew up and praying that they've done enough to help that baby be successful at the next stage in life.  It's a victory in a way, but it's still sad.

I'm in the "empty nester" stage of the school year right now, and it's a bit sad.  Okay fine, very sad.  It's my least favorite stage.  The last day of school is always my least favorite day of the year.  It's tough to watch my kids move on.  Unlike an empty nester parent, I have no guarantee that I will be able to keep up with these students or find out what they decide to do with their lives.  Actually, there's a very good chance that I will never know.  Students always promise to write and call and keep in touch, but they never do.  I mean, think about it - how many of your K-8 teachers are you still in contact with?  Those teachers INVESTED in you.  They LOVED you.  Don't you think you should say, "Hey, thanks for helping me out"?  I've gone back and written to a couple of my old teachers since I became a teacher, just because I know how much it would mean to me if an old student of mine wrote and said that I actually made a difference in their life.  Maybe that will happen one day; who knows.   For today, though, it's sad.  I lost some really cool kids this year.  This was easily my best-ever teaching year, and I got really close with those kids.  They move on to high school next year, so they won't be in my building anymore.  There's a solid chance that I won't see a lot of them ever again.  That is seriously so sad (have I overused the word "sad" yet?).  Do me a favor - go find an old teacher who made a difference in your life, and thank them for it.  They spent a lot of time caring about you, and I'm sure they'd love to hear how you're doing.

Oh, Hey there, Summer

Have you ever had someone show up at your house uninvited?  You didn't know they were coming, maybe you were sitting on the couch in your sweats eating popcorn, then all of a sudden, "DING DONG!" someone was there.

Sometimes it's a good surprise, like an out of town friend who decided to visit, and sometimes maybe it's a bad surprise, like your really creepy neighbor who decided to "just drop in and say hi."  Either way, you go into this sudden panic mode, like, "Crap, is my house clean? What can I offer them to eat or drink?  What are we going to do?  Am I wearing a bra??" etc.

That's how I feel about summer this year.  It's probably because I had a snow day only two and a half months ago, and the weather has been generally cold and gross ever since.  Only a few weeks ago we still had frost on the ground in the mornings.  It lulled me into a sense of false security, making me think I had plenty of school year left.  Then, suddenly, BOOM - it's summer.  Get out the barbeque sauce and short shorts.

When did that happen??  Did I totally miss spring?  The beauty of having four seasons is that weather is supposed to transition nicely from one season to another.  Now all of a sudden it's summer, and I'm not ready for it.  The school year ends a week from tomorrow?  WHAT?  I start my summer job soon after that, and I haven't prepared for it at all?  HUH?  My baby sister is graduating from high school tomorrow night?  ARE YOU KIDDING ME??  When did all of this happen?  I'm so unprepared!

I feel like I'm scrambling around trying to catch up on a million things that have to be done before summer gets here, but it's Memorial Day.  Summer's here.  I'm just not ready.  I want life to slow down a second - I've got some stuff to do before my baby sister becomes an adult and before my ninth graders leave me forever.  I have more stuff to teach my students before they wander off to their pools and campers and forget about all the stuff they've done in school.  I have more that I want to do with my husband before he becomes a real physical therapist with a real career.  We could claim "poor college student" status until now, but now's he's graduated so guess what?  Now we're just plain poor!  Ahhh!  This summer brings a lot of changes, and I just don't think I'm ready.  I wish I could rewind and (gasp!) bring back the snow.  I can't, though, and life has a way of marching on whether I like it or not.  So I guess all I can do now is squeeze as much as I can out of the rest of this school year, know that it's all going to be okay, and pass the barbeque sauce.

I'm Still the One

I have to document five minutes of last Saturday night so that I can remember to come back and read it later.I'll read it when Rex is driving me crazy because he left little hair bits all over the bathroom sink (again) or when he's playing his super weird cowboy ABC's song as loud as it will go ("A IS FOR THE ANTELOPE!  B FOR BUFFALO!!").  I hate that song.  He loves it...like it reminds him of his childhood in the rugged west or something.  Newsflash, Rex: you grew up in Portage.  Not on a prairie.

But I digress.

Every once in a while, Rex does something that makes me think, "Whoa.  I won the husband lottery."  Saturday was one of those nights.  We had just gotten home from running errands, frantically trying to get everything ready for Mother's Day and for Rex's impending trip for Vegas.  I was feeling a bit stressy.  I was trying to get some clothes together for the laundry when Rex called from the kitchen, "Hey Christine, can you come here a minute?"  I mean, sure.

I walked into the kitchen, and Rex hit play on his laptop.  "You're Still the One" by Orleans started playing, and Rex started dancing (by himself at first, ha ha).  Here are some of the lyrics to that song:

You're still the one -- that makes me laugh
Still the one -- that's my better half
We're still having fun, and you're still the one
You're still the one -- that makes me strong
Still the one -- I want to take along
We're still having fun, and you're still the one
Changing, our love is going gold
Even though we grow old, it grows new
You're still the one -- that I love to touch
Still the one -- and I can't get enough
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

Awww...what a guy.  Clearly I joined him in dancing, and we were dancing around the kitchen like a couple of nuts.  I thought that was sweet enough, but after the song ended he said, "Well, Happy 'You're Still the One' Day!  Here is your present!"  He pulled out a present for me, and it was a beautiful apron that I'd been admiring at the store!  The sneaky guy went and got it for me, even though I'd said I was going to add it to my Christmas list.  Whoa!  Presents for no reason are the best.  Except, obviously, this one had a reason.  It was "You're Still the One Day."  Duh.  Too bad I didn't get him anything...blast.  Now I'm going to have to invent a holiday and get him something cool.

Marriage is really fun sometimes.

Social Media and Your Baby

I'm not pregnant, and I would really be okay with never being pregnant ever.  A lot of my friends have decided to have kids recently, and GREAT for them.  That's fabulous.  It's a great excuse for me to buy baby clothes and throw fun parties.  For some reason, though, a lot of my facebook/blogfriends have decided to share a little too much of their pregnancies with me.  I think (think) that maybe pregnant women and new moms spend a lot of time showing various doctors and people a lot of private areas, so privacy isn't that big of a deal any more.  I'm writing myself this letter just in case I ever get pregnant, so I can remind myself what's okay and what's not to share with my non-mom friends who really don't understand the pregnancy world:

Dear Me,

Okay, let's start this off with conceiving the baby.  Your friends don't want to hear about it.  They don't want to hear about the positions that work best for making children.  They don't want to hear about "the night" that you think your baby was conceived.  We all took sex ed - we know what happened.  You don't have to elaborate.

Please don't post pictures online of any body parts that you would not normally post pictures of.  People don't want to see your bare stomach, especially with pregnancy stretch marks.  Stretch marks scare the non-moms into swearing off procreation.  They don't want to see your boobs as you breast feed for the first time, because that whole situation is just foreign and weird.  They don't want to see you parading around in a bra and underwear because you're "proud of your changing body."  Don't get me wrong - it's great that you're comfortable with your changing body (although you're Christine, so let's be real - you probably won't be).  It's just that your facebook friends don't want to see these things.

Maternity photos can be okay, as long as they don't break any of the aforementioned rules, and as long as they don't look like this: http://www.awkwardmaternityphotos.com/

I understand that lots of body changes take place during this "magical" time.  You can get hemorrhoids, have horrible flatulence, have weird secretions, and a host of other unpleasant side effects.  Your friends really, really don't want to hear about them.  Actually, your doctor probably doesn't even want to hear about them, but at least they're getting paid to listen to your graphic descriptions.

Hospital pictures can be super cute, but could you please clean off your baby first?  I know that you think your new baby is the cutest thing in the world (and you're Christine, so let's be real - it probably will be), but your friends don't want to see it all covered in placental goo like an alien.  It takes away from the cute factor.  Also, bloody hospital sheets are kind of gross.  Bascially, if the picture could be in a horror film or a science fiction film, don't put it on your facebook.

This should get you off to a good start in your social media sharing of your new baby.  Run all questionable elements by Rex, as his low gross-tolerance for lady issues will be a good thermometer of what can be shared.   When in doubt, leave it out.

Good luck with the baby thing...

Christine

SuperRex

Rex is so cool.

I mean, we all knew he was awesome, but last night I was so proud of him that I just have to blog-brag about it.  Here's how the situation went down:

Rex was at a softball practice for a team that he's on with his brother Tom.  Tom was up to bat, and when he swung the bat his toe got somehow stuck.  His upper body twisted, but his lower body didn't.  That's obviously not great.  Rex was watching the ball, but then he noticed that Tom was on the ground.  Eeek!  The guys playing asked Tom if he was okay, but Tom just groaned.  The guys started to crowd around him, and Rex ran out onto the field.

*cue triumphant superhero music*

Rex told the guys huddled around Thomas to move aside, and he bent down to look at Tom's leg.  His kneecap had become completely dislocated and was on the side of his leg, causing obvious pain.  The guys were going to call an ambulance, but because Rex is SO COOL, they didn't have to because Rex had the whole situation under control.  He explained to Tom about the procedure he was about to do, then manually straightened out his leg (OW) and realigned the kneecap to its proper position.  Whaaaaaat??  Who just knows how to do that!?  My husband, that's who.

So Tom didn't have to go to the hospital and didn't even have to go to the doctor (cuz my husband is the doctor - wooot!), and as of this morning he could walk with minimal pain.  Whoa!  Why can't I have awesome skills like that?  No one's ever going to be like, "This kid can't read - QUICK!  WHERE'S A TEACHER?!?!"

Obviously I'm not glad that Tom got hurt, but I sure am glad that Rex was there to fix him.  That night could have been much worse.  None of the guys on the team knew Rex is getting his doctorate of physical therapy in May, though (besides Tom), so I'm sure they were all thinking, "What the heck is this guy doing?!"  Ha ha.  Rex is too humble sometimes, so I'll just brag for him.  My husband rocks.  I'm so proud to be Mrs. Webb.