Dropping the baby bomb!

Hubs and I dropped the baby bomb today — we made our social-media-official announcement that March baby is incoming! And it felt really good. But, not gonna lie, we also felt a little apprehension, anxiety, and fear. We are still illogically worried about jinxes. Personally, I have to keep reminding myself that Charlie didn’t die because we shared our joy back in the spring. And if, God forbid, we lose March baby too, it will not be as a result of sharing our hope and happiness now.

I still want our hope to be bigger <3.


The st(ring) theory — brought to you by the old wives

Yesterday hubs and I went to visit at my mom’s apartment, because we were having a family lunch with cousins who were in town and other cousins that live much closer but we still don’t see a lot. Along for the ride were the new generation (as it currently stands), which is weird and beautiful at the same time. Six grown women, three babies, one second grader, and my husband as the lone grown man (he handles it well though — to be honest, the men are typically outnumbered in my family). And we were happy to be together, to play with the kids, to coo over the newest baby, to speculate over the baby-to-be that I’m growing at the moment.

One of my cousins brought up the ring trick and swore that every time she did it, it gave her the same results and she was certain it was right. Like me, she went through a miscarriage before her baby boy was born last January and she said that prior to the miscarriage the results for her were girl-boy-girl, and that after the miscarriage the results changed to boy-girl. So she did this trick to one of my other cousins who has two-under-two, and the results were girl-boy, which is indeed the order of her children. Then she did it to herself to further demonstrate, and then of course it was my turn.

It was explained like this: If the ring on a string goes circular, it means you’re having a boy. If it swings side to side, it means you’re having a girl. If either movement is very large in execution, it means twins. If it doesn’t really move, it means no more babies. And the idea is you can keep doing until the ring-on-a-string says no more.

I didn’t really buy into it, but it seemed quirky and fun so I let her do it. As she began, my aunt walked in and asked what was happening, to which hubs deadpanned, “Some sort of satanic Wiccan ritual.” Ha!

The first time it went circular and they all crowed “boy!”. The second time it stopped, which my cousin proclaimed meant I would only have one child. I know it may seem stupid and illogical, but my heart skipped a little at that. I have always planned on more than one child. At least two, so my children had a “person”. And I know, that after March baby is born, eventually we will start trying for another. So to hear her say the stars and fates or whatever only give me one child, my thoughts immediately went to — Oh, God. All my other babies will die. All this processing and these thoughts happened maybe within a 15 second time span, and I tried to outwardly laugh it off and said, “Well, we’ll just adopt a second one then!”

But it bothered me. And I was very uncomfortable that it bothered me, because I knew it was just an old wives’ tale. A ring on a string cannot accurately predict anything! But it rankled me enough that later that night I did it to myself. Now, I should tell you; before I did it, I looked up the tale to be sure I have the results right. Here’s the thing. Different articles/posts/experiences contradicted what meant what as far as ring movement and where to suspend the string. Some said circle = boy/lateral = girl, others said the completed opposite. Some said you had to hold it over a hand, others said over the pregnant belly, others said they were interchangeable. Which made me feel marginally better, since it was so inconsistent.

But I still tried it anyway. First time was circular, just like before. Second time, it initially stopped, like before as well. But I held the string over my hand longer, and eventually it started to move again — lateral. (To which I thought, of course! I mean gravity and laws of physics have to be exerting some force on this experiment.) The third time, it was still, and it stayed still no matter how long I continued to hold it.

I was partially satisfied with my little foray into the ritual, but it still bothered me that it bothered me in the first place.


Change is good, and often for the better, but I don’t always like it. I knew moving into a new position would be different. I knew there would be some growing pains. To be honest, I’ve had some moments where I’ve briefly wondered if perhaps I made a mistake.

I’m looking at a caseload that has doubled since last year, and that will mean the students I’m trying to support won’t get as much time as they need, which gnaws at me. I’m going into the fourth week of school and I’m still not done testing yet. And the testing window closes this Friday, so I’m begging the universe not to have any more students enroll.

I’m at the mercy of a whole bunch of factors that are completely out of my control. I have to assess the students using a specific, web-based program — but the tech keeps going down, and our IT person isn’t full time, and I keep losing time. The other day, I called up the program people myself and when they asked for the IT person I told them I had no idea when I’d be seeing him, so I really needed them to walk me through whatever they’d tell the tech person to do because I didn’t have time to waste. Which went okay, until something required an admin password which I do not have.

One of the students I had to assess the other day started crying because she was so frustrated. I’m not allowed to help them, because the assessment has to show what they can do on their own. But my heart broke for her, and I don’t think she understood that I wasn’t allowed to help — but that I so badly wanted to help her.

I know it seems like I’m whining. I know I should have expected all of this, to a certain extent, and logically, I did. But living in it for weeks feels different. I just want to get through this part so I can get to the point where I actually am spending my time helping these students as best as I can. That’s teaching in general though, right? We just want to help the students learn, but it often feels like so many other things get in the way.

Next week, I’m hoping, will feel more purpose-driven.

What in your life is calling you when all the noise is silenced, the meetings adjourned, the lists laid aside, and the wild iris blooms by itself in the dark forest, what still pulls on your soul? — Rumi

Back-to-school book recommendations


Source: Goodreads

This was a bit slow to start for me, but so glad I stuck it out! Reminded me of “Britt-Marie Was Here”, which I loved.


Source: Goodreads

Confession — I only read this after I saw the Netflix movie. It’s written completely in the format of letters, which I wasn’t sure I could get in to at first. But, again, I’m glad I stuck it out.


Source: Goodreads

Third in series, “Me Before You” and “After You” came before. I honestly only started the series because I was in an airport waiting for a flight and needed a book. I didn’t actually expect to like it, but I did!


Source: Goodreads

Hubs and I love Parks and Rec, and at some point I remembered that Amy Poehler had written a “memoir”. This one’s random, a little quirky, but has surprising moments of soulfulness. Worth it :-).