Ice Cream in a Bag Part 1

 I thought the rolling chair post was intense. The next day, with that same student was even more intense. After a day of insults, threats, and being "terrorized" as they call it, I had some words with that student that I'll omit here, but it resulted in him chilling out significantly and not harassing me for the last three days. In fact, after he apologized to me for stealing a bag out of my hands and I couldn't believe my ears. I looked at him with a glare of confusion, took a deep breath and said LOUDLY, "What? Did YOUUUUU just apologize to me?????? HAS HELL FROZEN OVERRRR???? DID JESUS JUST TRANSPORT THROUGH THE WINDOW AND GIVE YOU A KISS ON THE FOREHEAD? It must be because I prayed to God a few minutes ago! It worked! My prayer was answered! Thank you JESUS! JESUS IS REAL! The angels I called wrapped themselves around you and let you have some empathy!!!!!". This kid was super quiet, and a stupid smile came over his face and he just laughed and rolled away on his rolling chair. Then I said, "I'LL TAKE IT! I'll shut up! And I'll take it! Thank you ____!"

Let's skip to the Ice Cream in a bag now. The day before Halloween, the security entry protocol changed a bit. They were checking backpacks diligently for candy, and likely drugs, or contraband. Probation security added three new search dogs to the routine and we had to walk down a new hallway to enter the facility. 

When I got to class, the kids asked us what we were going to do for Halloween, and I asked probation if we could make ice cream in a bag. It's something a co-teacher of mine did recently where you get milk or cream, pour it into a ziplock bag with sugar and vanilla, close the bag and add that bag to a bigger bag of ice and rock salt, then you agitate it for about 7 minutes until it emulsifies into a form of ice cream. It works, and it looked fun.

How was I going to bring in the ingredients? I wasn't exactly sure but something inside me said that I KNEW it was going to happen, so I told them I would make the attempt to do so. My bosses gave me permission so at the end of the day before Halloween I asked the security and they said I would need a food request form filled out by my directors for permission. I filled out the form that clearly states: "ALL REQUESTS NEED TO BE MADE 2 WEEKS IN ADVANCE". Well, I've filled out these forms before and each one has never been signed or returned, so I assumed that they went into some type of Food Request Form Fantasyland or Purgatory. They were obviously in limbo. I filled out a form but didn't get it signed. I was going to try to wing it.

I needed to make ice cream, and had to bring the items the day of. In the morning, I prayed about it and asked God to guide me, and he did as usual, and said to me: "Sara, take the milk. Take the cream. Take the sugar, salt, ice, and all of it. It will be ok". Well, I said to God, "Ok. I trust you". I always Trust God. 

So the morning of, I loaded my backpack with the salt, sugar, measuring cups, ziplock bags, and vanilla. I had a grocery store bag with the a gallon of milk and the half gallon of cream. The backpack went through security without a problem, but the heavy bag with large amounts of lactose got put to the side. "Sara, do you have your form signed? We need you to get permission to bring this in". It was 8:05am. Class starts exactly at 8:30. I immediately went into "GOTTA MAKE THIS HAPPEN GEAR", so I said, "I'll get the signatures, be right back! Hold my milk!". I ran across the facility after my own security scans and booked it to the office. The principal and vice principal were there. Quickly, I opened my slow-ass county computer, printed the form I had edited and asked them to sign it. They both looked at me like I was a little crazy but they were happy to sign it. I ran like a dummy back to the entrance while my fellow teachers all said the same thing, "Ms. Sara! You're going the wrong way!". "I know!", I replied as I huffed and puffed down the long covered pathway. I showed my friends in security the form, and they said, "This is the right form, but you need to have the signature in the box signed by the Probation Supervisor". Well, that was a doozy. I have never heard of, met, or seen the Probation Supervisor. I had no idea where they worked or where to find this person, but I still felt determined to try. At our sign in counter, I asked the receptionist how I could communicate with a supervisor, and she looked to her right and said, "She just walked in the door. She is standing right there". It was a miracle. Apparently they are usual never around or nowhere to be found.

The nice looking woman was with another supervisor, and I interrupted her to ask her if she could help me and she said, "Give me a minute". I waited patiently until I had my chance to explain the ice cream experiment, the fact that we wanted to do something special since I could not bring in candy for Halloween, that it tied into math for measurements, that it was Science as we would be changing liquids to solids, etc etc etc. She looked at me and said, "I'm new here. I've only been here two weeks. We obviously have rules in place. There is a protocol. This does not follow protocol. Who gave you permission? Did medical give you clearance? Are there allergies? Are you sure? What about the caloric intake? Does this exceed their sugar intake for the day? Why would staff allow this? You didn't submit the form early? Just because it's Halloween, etc etc etc, and she kept going and I understood I was putting her on the spot. After a lot of this and that and back and forth and trying to be as calm and collected as possible, I just looked at her and said, "Whatever you decide, ma'am, God bless you". She stopped and said, "Yes! God blesses me! He blesses me every day! I am blessed!". With somber hesitation as if she had let me win, she took her pen and signed the paper. Of course I said, "God bless you", again, and "Thank you", then I ran back the form to the security guys and they added the form to a pile and let me run back with the fat-ass bag of milk and cream. I told the guys not to lose my form because it stated clearly I also had permission to get ice, strawberries, and bananas that I would buy at lunch and they assured me that the form would be safe with them. They were also VERY surprised I got permission and raised their eyebrows and gave me a look of confusion. Whatever. I did it and I still had 6 minutes to run back to the office, make some copies, and get into the compound where my students were in time.

Rolling Chairs

It's possible that my workplace may be shut down, but they've told us that before. The school/facility is not really in compliance and there is not enough probation staff to make it so. 

In my unit, on Tuesdays-Thursdays we have regular probation staff. This means as long as the doors work and there aren't major hazards in the classroom, we can be inside of the classroom. After a few weeks of dealing with the broken door that whoever could kick open, it was finally fixed.

When I walked into the class today, one student was holding a speaker in the belly of his shirt wrapped up and listening to whatever they like to listen to at full blast. It's actually hard to get the attention of 12 15-19 year olds when the music is that loud. I passed out pencils and journals and attempted to tell the students what I expected of them to write about. It was hopeless really. So it seemed. One student grabbed my guitar, was strumming obsessively over and over again while he stared at me just waiting for me to tell him to shut up. As I continued to ignore the stupid behavior, I just listened to the violent strums while I asked those willing to get to work. One student looked at me and said, "I don't know how you do it". 

When I approached the little maniac Van Halen, he said, "You better get the fuck away from me". "I'm not talking to you". I'm like, "dude, I don't want to suspend you". He replied, "You better not fucking suspend me. I run this place. Get the fuck out of my face, I'm not even talking to you". Hmmm. What a gem of a kid! I told him I felt bad that he felt so shitty that he needed to come at me like that and I really hoped that trying to make me feel like garbage would make him feel great, and if it did, then he could keep the insults and threats coming because it didn't even bother me. He proceeded with his shenanigans. Quietly, I asked our probation staff to remove him, I asked to restructure him, and he assured me that he would when he could. The problem is, there is not enough staff to even remove a kid like that from the class. I can always retreat. If I feel like I'm in danger I can get out, but for some crazy reason, I didn't feel in danger. 

Oddly, when I hear a kid talk to me like that, all I can think about is all the people in his life who walked away. There were many that I'm sure that couldn't deal with his outbursts, tantrums, violence, and back talking. It's been months of this with this kid, and to be honest, some of it has gotten worse, but all I see is a kid who wants some control. Maybe the only thing he was ever able to control was how to push people away, and maybe he's mad that he's not pushing me out too. 

Things settled down, and I probably insulted him a tad despite the threats he continued to rail off on me, but through distraction and time, he chilled out. Conversations started with peers, and I had my alligator lizard in my pocket, so I took her out which really hyped up the students. This particular kid was annoyed, and he seemed to hate reptiles. He said, "you better not get that creature near me or I'm going to murder it". Lovely. I still didn't take him seriously. 

After lunch, this guy was allowed back in class after not having done one assignment in the morning and after all of those shenanigans. I put on a video of Donald Duck in Mathmagic Land and the class was annoyed but vaguely entertained. They had a worksheet to fill out to answer questions regarding symmetry, the golden ratio, and Fibonacci sequences and maybe 2 1/2 students even filled in one answer. However, it was relatively quiet. During the video, as students lost interest and started talking to one another I picked up the guitar that the kid finally let go of. I tuned it and started strumming the song, "Piel Canela", and singing softly to myself. 

Next to me was another boy, whose journal entry in the morning when something like this. "Right now, my teacher is talking. She's talkin' too much. I'm tired of hearing her fucking voice and never shut up. I can't stand this bitch. I'm not going to write what she asked me to write about. I'm just going to write how she annoys me. She annoys me but I know she's a good teacher. She listens to me, and draws for me, and even though she annoys the fuck out of me, I'm glad she's here". Well, well, well. The things "this" kid says to me on the daily is insane and I just usually look at him and say something like, "wow, I'm so glad you said all of these nice things today. I woke up this morning and really couldn't wait for what you had to tell me so I rushed to work knowing that you would really make me feel special". Yes, I can be rude and sarcastic, but what else am I supposed to do? His entry was appalling and sweet at the same time, and I realized I can just back off with him a little more, and give him space. I'm glad he trusts me.

Going back to the guitar playing. While I was playing, and had just read that journal entry that ended rather nicely, the boy who had threatened me earlier looked at me. Usually, if our eyes meet, he says, "what the fuck are you looking at?", or "don't fucking look at me". But while I played he looked at me and stayed quiet. I gave a little smile and kept singing, and he kept listening and watching. He rolled over in the desk chair with wheels that he sits in every day. If he walks in and someone is in his seat, they get the fuck out of the way. When someone gives up the chair to him, I always say, "wow, you just got punked for that chair", and the kids stay quiet and frown at me. He is the alpha. He is the big boss of the unit. Maybe because he's the best fighter, or the meanest, but either way he is in charge. He rolled over to me and didn't say anything mean. Usually when he comes near me he snatches my radio from the clip I keep on my pants. He's snatched it before but it had been weeks since he had gotten away with it because my reflexes have gotten really good. I put my hand on my radio as soon as he rolled up, but he just looked at me and said softly, and quietly, "Miss. Will you let me borrow your radio"? 

In Juvi, when kids steal your radio they love to rep their hood and say some profanities, or say something like Free the Homies, or, "On my dead homies you're gonna catch a fade you stupid fucks", or something silly of the sorts. Hearing a kid on the radio is a regular thing. It's normal. We think nothing of it but once a student of mine in another unit had to shout me out saying, "we in Ms. Sara's class and Fuck this school and all the teachers". That was embarrassing. I'm like, "did you have to say my name"??? Back to this guy. He asked to use my radio, and I'm like, "for what". I knew that letting him use it was a stupid idea. Like a really bad idea actually, because 1) he didn't deserve shit for treating me the way he did, and 2) how could I actually trust him, and 3) I'm not supposed to let anyone touch it. 

Something kind of came over me and I asked him, "what are you going to say". He said, "I just wanna say something funny. I promise I won't say your name, or where we are. I'm just gonna say sumpin real quick, and I give it back. On my dead homies. I swear. And if you let me, I'll be nice". I laughed pretty hard. Him?? Be nice??? I was like, "Yeah right! I believe you might be nice for a second or two, and I'll take it". I just handed him the radio, he quickly said his shit talk and I grabbed it back when he was done, clipped it back to my pants, and he rolled away smiling. He didn't bother me one more time the rest of the day. 

As stupid as I sound, I just have to note that I see kids without any control. They aren't in control of themselves. Most of them are highly medicated. They can't see the daylight. They eat shitty food. Many of their parents have abandoned them. They want so badly to control something. Anything. They are looking for that chance at every corner. When he asked me nicely, even to do something stupid, I just wanted to give him a chance to be in control. I wanted to praise him for not insulting me and being kind, even for a second. I wanted him to know that despite all the bullshit he puts me through I respect him as a human and my student. He stands in his power and his inability to heal is hurting him. I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring. Some may say I'm just enabling a bad behavior but I saw something in him today that showed me he wants to trust someone. He's actually the funniest kid I've ever encountered at my job despite also probably being the most unhinged and violent. 

I know they can do better. So can I, but they do need a chance and someone to believe in them. It takes time. A lot of time and I know I'm in it for the long haul, and they aren't going anywhere soon, so all we have right now is time. 

Just Another Day In Juvie

 Every day after work as I walk down the corridor under the walkway awnings, I decompress and breathe deeply knowing I'm close to getting in my car. Within minutes I'll be sitting in my Toyota Prius, wondering what the fuck just happened at work. It's never boring working at a juvenile hall.

I haven't gone into detail about the day ins and outs of working where I do, but it's insane. I tell the kids all the time how I want to be bored. 

When I used to teach English at LACHSA, we read Catch 22 together as a class. There's only one part I actually remember from the book and it was where a character who had been in the "shit" of war told another soldier he missed being bored. He said that being bored was a luxury and he dreamt of the day that he could be "bored" again. 

25 years ago, I still had moments of boredom, but then Ramone came into my life and I do not think I have been bored ever since. In jail, yes it's jail, I think of this over and over again. I wish the kids would just let me have a moment of boredom but they don't.

Today, in fact, there was little time to reflect. My new elective teacher who was hired to give me a 2 hour prep and meeting block 2 times a week showed up for his second time. The first time he showed up, I introduced him to my students who were in the day room. (After I left him alone the kids ran him out within 5 minutes and he was escorted out of the compound) 

If we are in the day room, (the middle section/eating/ rec area of their living quarters with cells around the perimeter) it means it's not safe to be in the classroom. Well, being in the day room is not much safer, but because our classroom door lock has been compromised for over a month, it's not suitable for us to be in there because students from the unit next door breach their probation staff then kick our door open sometimes. It can result in fights, or just the kids coming into my room to graffiti, steal what they can, or throw my shit on the floor. Never super fun, but it happens. Where is the staff who is supposed to regulate these kids you ask? They are around. I like them all, but many are not regular staff who know the kids - but the intricacies of how probation manages Los Padrinos is a book in itself, and this is just a baby blog. 

So, the only time we have been going in the classroom is when we have a regular probation staff who knows how to keep the pepper spray close at hand and the door from being opened by the other students. Two days ago, the staff stepped outside to run some kids back to their unit, but my students thought it would be funny to hold the door and lock him out. While I tried to let him in, the other kids piled tables near me while they laughed at the absurdity of the whole situation. "Sara, aren't you scared when these things happen?", asks everyone I talk to. Stupidly, no. Never. I'm never scared. I laughed at their laughter even though I thought no one else would think it was funny, but I knew I was ok. When God tells me I'm in danger, I don't go to work. But each day, I ask for angelic protection and in faith and confidence I go in and do my best to be the teacher I'm supposed to be for them. 

This morning, as that elective teacher entered the unit, my students immediately started talking shit to him. "So, you decided to show up again? Is that right? Well, get the fuck outta here or we gonna terrorize your ass". "Ha ha ha", I said. "Settle down boys. All you have to do for credit this morning is be respectful and let him teach what he is here to share with you." "Fuck you Ms. Sara, no one was talking to you". We walked past the silly boys and went into the classroom. "I'm glad we can be in the class today. I think here they will be able to respect your boundaries and actually pay attention. Let me grab my computer charger". I walked over to the side of the room where the entire wall is lined with locked cabinets and drawers. The day before, around 3:20 I locked my charger and HDMI cable in a bottom drawer and went home. As I took out my key and started to put it in the keyhole, the face of the cabinet fell over. "Whoops", I thought. 

Then I looked over and noticed that 3 other cabinet doors were wonky and they had all been broken into. I freaked out for just a second because I thought they had stolen my paint brushes, but no. The art supplies were not in high demand, but my cables and chargers were gone. A probation officer and I carried the cabinet doors into the probation office and we assessed the situation. No one seemed to care who did it or when it happened. It really is just another day in juvie. But the teacher knew he couldn't go back into the day room with the kids, so I told him he may as well just call it a day. I started gathering work to take to the kids in the day room, but I knew I had to put in a request for yet another work order that will never get taken care of in my classroom. 

The reason we can't have the kids (mind you these kids are between 15-20 years old and many of them are over 6 feet tall) in the classroom as the metal rods on the drawer glides can be easily removed. Kids used them in one of the riots they had last year. I've seen them removed before and hidden in someone's sweat pants. These silly kids. I mean, I'm never bored, but apparently they are VERY bored. Besides the exposed metal parts, broken wood, and broken door, the walls are lined with ugly penciled and Expo marker graffiti and multiple live outlets have exposed wire and are broken. It's just not safe.

The kids were pissed. "Miss! Why did you have to report that shit! Now we can't be in the classroom! Why you gotta be so bunk!". Well, my hands feel tied. I want them to be in there, and I totally trust them. I totally trust them to further destroy the broken cabinets and rip out the metal. I trust them to make bad choices. I also know they CAN make better choices and I always give them a chance to TRY to, but it doesn't always work how I desire. God knows what he's doing. I don't always know. 

Anyhow. We had day room school just as we have had for many days recently. I'm tired, and have to plan lessons for another day room session tomorrow. After work around 3:30 I drove to pick up Ramone. Got to him after a trip to Home Depot at 5pm. Took him to pick up his iPad by 5:30 at his friend's house. Got to my house at 5:45 and got him to jujitsu at 6. Slither needed crickets so I got to the cricket factory (Tropical imports pet store) at 6:20. Bought Chinese food at 6:40. Picked up Ramone at 7. Picked up his friend at 7:15. Got home at 7:30. Fed the kids by 8. Watched them attempt homework until 9. Listened to these early teenagers scream at screens and friends till 9:45. And guess what. That's not it! It's 11:20 and after dishes (yes the dishes still play a significant role in my life) and laundry, and asking my son to go to bed, I'm here. I want to sleep, but the details are still fresh in my mind. 

Here is what I did not write about:

The beautiful comics my students drew today.

The lovely short conversations with my beautiful children.

The fact that today was the first cool day I've felt in a long time. The cold hurts me physically but it also was special and pretty. 

The pile of photographs I dug out from the ancient days of 1997-1999 that I shared with my students to open the discussion of photo. (Light - radiant energy) We are learning about photosynthesis (kind of sort of) and the energy (light) from the sun and how it works to allow plants to do their thing and help us breathe and make food. Anyhow. Some kids enjoyed each photo. Another grabbed my stack and I wanted to slap him, but when he saw and heard my death stare and comments, he gave them back and refused to talk to me until I had a tangerine to share with him later in the day. 

Playing piano for 3 minutes. 

Taking a 13 minute nap. 

So, I didn't write extensively about those things, but I did write about my day. Let's see what tomorrow brings. Knowing what I know, and knowing the God I know and trust, it's going to be fine. No matter what. 

Am Iowa

 In 5th grade, one of my best teacher's assigned us to write and make a book. We had to bind it with cardboard and contact paper, and we added our stapled stories to the makeshift binding. 

I remember my dad helping me with the project. My dad wasn't one to help much with homework. Probably because I didn't ask him or need the help, however, I did bug him a few times in my life to help with creative projects. 

One likely school night, we were at my house, (the house I live in now) and he and I were on the couch brainstorming ideas for my book. I probably shed a tear or two arguing about it from my vague recollection, but it was still an overall good memorable experience. 

My dad told me to name the girl Tammie. I may have spelled in "Tammy". Tammy was a caucasian girl from the city of "Am, Iowa". Not sure where my dad got that one from, but I wouldn't be surprised if it had not been original. Anyhow, Tammy from Am was a curious girl who one day stepped out of her likely boring house void of devices because it was the 1980's, and while walking down a very poorly drawn cement sidewalk, over a wall she notices a "Hole in the Sky", and a ladder slowly lowering itself down from this hole. Did Tammy think about how weird this was? No. Did Tammy ask herself, "What the fuck is a ladder doing coming out of a black hole in the middle of the sky?". No. Tammy just decided to walk up the yellow poorly drawn ladder and walk inside of the hole. 

On the next page of this pink dotted cardboard, crappy, homemade, warped book, Tammy enters into some kind of Candy Land looking universe. In the book it looks more like a teeny lame neighborhood with poorly drawn landscapes. As she strolled down another cement sidewalk in this new alternate universe, Tammy notices that many things in this Candy Land bunkery, (that's a word my students use to describe a wack ass situation) then sees that many things around her are grey and turned to stone. She sees stone figures that look like children, flowers, and if I had been more illustrative and thoughtful I would have added some lovely water fountains or swings. She also sees a type of podium. Let's says its an ornate, gold podium that looks like a music stand with a treble clef at the center. On it was a book opened to a page that looks like the Sleeping Beauty books at Sleeping Beauty's castle at Disneyland. Instead of written in gold plated calligraphy, it was written in my horrible 5th grade print. It read: "When there is trouble, and skies are grey, she will come from Am to save the day". Well, well, well. My dad and I were truly poets who didn't know-its. Tammy was so baffled when she realized that it had been her fate to save this world, and it was up to her to fulfill an ancient prophecy that finally reached her. Tammy always knew she was special, deep down. But did she realize only she had the power to use her angelic light force to save "Sara's version of a Candy Land drawn of bunkery"? 

She knew. She absolutely knew without a doubt and without fear that she was meant for this job. She looked around at this Candy Land of bunkery gone gloom, and before she could ask or think how she would fulfill this legend, a dark cloud started forming. A troll like looking face popped out of the cloud like a smokey goblin and started putting his nasty, long nailed finger out of the cloud and touched the objects that had not yet been turned to stone. Some lonely colorful objects of nature began to turn from radiant colors never seen on the spectrum we know to concrete. This grotesque creature was named, "The Ting". Well, well, well. Yet again, Mr. Horlick proves to be a literary genius by helping me give the characters in my story such unique identities. The Ting was evil. The Ting represented everything that Tammy hated. She hated anyone trying to dim her light. She hated anything that would suck the life out of a living object and send them to her version of "Pebble Valley", a land where the ultimate, boring suffering fate should exist. Before hesitating, without a flinch, Tammy extended her arm and touched the Ting on his hand. (If I remember correctly) And before the story had a chance to accrue any real tension or conflict, she saved the day. It was that easy. 

Maybe one or two things happened before or after, and if my old brain can remember correctly, I think 5th grade Sara and her dad wounded down this adventure by having the little kid statues turn into living rainbow children named ..... named..... oh, I remember now. Tim and Kim. Or Pam and Sam. I don't know but I'm sure it rhymed, making my dad feel like a real Dr. Suess. Tim and Kim told Tammy she was all bad ass and thanked her for saving them from a stony eternity. And they would not have been able to be stoned during this eternity, so that would have been really a punishment. Stoned as in "high", not treated like a witch in old time Salem. Ok, I digress. Tim and Kim, or Pam and Sam were like, "la la la, we're so happy she saved us!", and "La la la! Candy Land of Bunkery is purty again and no this story is nothing like the Wizard of Oz!". 

A space craft then came out of the sky and shined some rainbow light on the land and I think some fairy lady, or the Queen of this alternate universe thanked her and told her she was meant to be this winner of life. I think that was the end. I didn't mean to recount it but the reason I'm writing this at all is because 1) I wanted to remember it. 2) It reminded me of a story I'm reading with Ramone. 3) I needed a blog entry for today. 4) I think the story is worth remembering and I know my dad will appreciate this. AND 5) I'll try to keep this as a reminder that spending time with my son doing homework - even when it feels excruciating and frustrating because he is acting up and causing all sorts of bunkery, will be something he may never forget. 

Two Years Passed, Then Five More Years Passed

I almost completely forgot that at one time in my life, I actually cared about writing a blog. Blogger sounds so old, and outdated, and ancient. 

Facebook directed me via memories to this blogspot page, and as I read the entries about my early days as a mother, I was slightly saddened that I didn't continue writing much after Ramone was born. His birth really flipped my world upside down and inside out. It shattered my glossy and shimmery view of motherhood that my daughters created. He's been the same, oppositional, ninja punk kid since birth, and now he's almost taller than me. 

Since I last wrote in 2019, way too many things have happened. I guess I'm glad I didn't write about all the life changes that occurred with the things that occurred around the years 2020. Perhaps you know what I'm referring to, but that was absolutely earth shattering and life changing. Although I had already started down the rabbit holes of conspiracy lunacy, the years following 2020 and the events that took place really didn't shock me. What did shock me was how divided people got, and how my life style at the time pushed certain people away from my life. 

And here we are, on the brink of wars and natural disasters in our country and changes in the collective consciousness of biblical proportions. Or something like that.

Those who know me know what big changes have occurred in my life but I'm ready to write again and use this space to share what I really need to write down. 

I started this blog as "Sara The Sub". I left my "subbing" job at the LA County High School for the Arts in 2010, and from 2010-2023 I worked mainly in Early Childhood Education while I raised my children. 

In Spring of 2023, I decided I was tired of running my own business and hustling for another dollar as a musician, educator, speaker, cold-pressed juicer, and performer. Something called me back to substitute teaching and although my intent was to go back to LACHSA, that didn't happen. I ended up in the juvenile justice system. 

The first day I rolled up to the parking lot at the hall in the Valley, I went through the security doors after they sent me back in for having a fanny pack. Clear bags only. I walked through 5 different doors before I reached a yard outside that had a round walkway up to the school office. Little did I know how many doors I would have to have opened for me in a given day since everything is locked and teachers can't have keys. 

I don't remember the first group of boys I subbed for but I remember going up into the unit as they didn't have school in the classroom due to a lack of probation staff. A teacher and I delivered school packets up into the day room of the unit that was small, filled with sunlight, and had 2 metal tables. I remember it smelling of trash and there were boys sitting on the backs of chairs playing play station. The other teacher put his hand in his pocket and took out some small candies that he offered the boys. It wasn't a reward for anything, he was just letting them have a treat. 

After that first day in the hall, I had this feeling that it was what I was meant to do. Having a son that was so oppositional and defiant really geared me up to working with this population. I looked at each boy like he was my own son, and asked myself how would I treat Ramone if he was acting such. The instability and chaos I was about to embark on was not known to me at this point, but I decided to take the plunge and dive head in first to a really sad world where children are forgotten. 

2 Years Have Passed

It's been 2 years since I last wrote a blog entry. I'm writing so that I have a place on the web for me to remember things. I used to keep journals, and I stopped pretty much once my son was born. I also stopped because he was, and still is a force of nature. He's pure dude. He's pure energy.

So, I haven't even checked my blog, but last I wrote was in 2017 for my dad's birthday. I'm glad I checked in back then.

Since 2017, my son started Kindergarten, and is now going into 2nd grade. I have a high schooler who is in a Marching band, and she's gonna be in a jazz band, and does indoor percussion competitions. To me that is kind of weird. But I'm extremely proud of her.

The other kid is a teenager (almost) and is getting straight A's. I'm fine with that. My girls are amazing. They are incredibly smart, they listen to me most of the time, and they do all the laundry and dishes now so life is good. They don't make their beds though. I guess this is a problem.

But going back to what has consumed me entirely since 2011 is my son. He's not like other kids. I've learned way too much about behavioral issues, neurological problems, brain development, sensory issues, diet, being on the spectrum, psychology, toxicity, and so many other things. He's defiant. He's strong willed. He's hard to manage. He doesn't make going to restaurants easy. He doesn't make life easy. He makes every simple task difficult. He says no when you ask him to do something that is not a preferred task. He makes the bad choice most of the time. He doesn't stop doing something he shouldn't be doing when you ask him to. He doesn't do what you think would be best. He does what he wants.

In school, they have a common core math program and he crosses out every single last box on every single page where it tells you to explain your answer. He does this because "Math is for numbers and escritura is for escritura time, not matemáticas".

When he was only 3 years old, he would say "my choice is my choice". Yesterday when we were having a bit of an argument he told his dad ,"You don't control me. You are not the boss of me". Well, his dad replied he kind of was the boss of him, and that he made him. My kid replied. "But you can't CONTROL me, because my body is my body, and my own mind is my mind and I can do what I want with my body and say what I want. So you don't control me." I guess he's right. We don't really control him, and for the most part we have tried but we can't.

But I may be ranting a bit too much about his oppositional behavior. I can go on about the other side. That he is compassionate, funny, kind, makes friends every place we go, every day. He plays drums (a little), he's learning piano, he loves swimming every day, he never wears shoes, he has so many friends, he like legos now, swims in the ocean year round, he is reading better, and loves telling jokes. However, the things that consume us about him are pretty much hard to deal with.

I am absolutely grateful every moment that this kid can talk. He can walk. He can think. He knows what feels right to him. He is not afraid to say anything. Even the f word. He is an amazing singer. But the things about him that are difficult really consume us. They consume every breath I take. When I wake up, I wake up in a panic. I'm worried about him, and I think I have PTSD about him being in the hospital twice this year. I hate it there and I never want to take him back. I had to advocate for him each minute we were in there so that they wouldn't do anything unnecessary to him or give him meds he didn't need.

All this is totally scattered, and maybe not worth mentioning, but I felt the need to write so I can remember one day how much this kid consumed us.

He got kicked out of summer camp on the 2nd day this year. I won't go into details about what he did, but I couldn't get a refund and the work I had planned on doing the entire summer had to get pushed on the back burner. I've been with him every day this summer. During the first part of summer, he had his share of TV, tantrums, play dates, outings etc.

We had just been to UCLA where he was diagnosed with ADHD and ODD. They were pretty pushy about meds to help modify his behavior. I'm sure that meds would keep him in line to some degree, but I said I wanted to exhaust all other possibilities before ever going that route.

Soon after that I ended up taking him to an Aryuvedic doctor. He ended up coming to the conclusion that a lot of his hot headedness and temperament comes from his inability to get a lot of what was backed up in his system out... and although we all hear about the gut/brain connections, I wasn't sure how that related to my own kid. We've been trying to follow new dietary suggestions, he's taking some herbs, he's gotten to be regular, and that definitely has helped. But he's still a hot head.

And when I'm here thinking about him being a hot head, I can only think back to myself. I was a pretty shitty little kid. I remember crying about all sorts of things for no reason. I remember fighting with my neighbor for 2 days because I wasn't ok with him liking Neil Diamond so much. I remember having my own desk in the corner in 1st and 2nd grade cuz I couldn't stop pestering and talking to everyone around me. I remember not letting my parents eat at Ribs USA. I remember kicking a tow truck driver that had to rescue me and my mom on the freeway. I remember biting my dentist so hard that he needed stitches. As I remember these things, I think... "well, I was pretty awful sometimes but I didn't turn out that bad".

So a part of me thinks... my kid is immature, and a little crazy, but maybe he WILL come around when he's about 9 like many people say. Maybe he'll come around in 3rd grade, the way I did. But another part of me thinks, "what if he doesn't, and he's just has a criminal mind and ends up in jail". It may sound crazy or rude of me to say, but I worked in Jail Schools. I worked with kids who were considered criminals. And you know what? They were and are a lot like my kid. Kids who don't want anyone telling them what to do. Kids who don't really know how to cool their "lava". Kids who make the bad choice over and over. But the difference between those kids and my son is that I'm there for him every day to help him with anger management. With personal space. With how he resolves his problems. With cooling his lava. I'm always there. But what if I can't always be there?

There's so much I can go on about. Like his adventure with a rotavirus in January. With appendicitis in April. With his failed attempts at getting his teeth cleaned at the dentist. Like jumping off a horse cuz he didn't like horseback riding on a steep hill. Like saying he hated his f'ing parents at the thrift store. Or how he ran away from home twice, and told random strangers I wasn't his mother. Or how he told other random people he got kicked out of the house cuz his dad was so mean to him and he needed a new family. I mean, I can go on about so many things. So many occasions.

I can also go on about how today at the 99 cent store I told him before we walked in that he could not get anything. He told me he hated me and I was the worst mom, but still followed me in the store. And in the store, I ended up getting some bananas, some batteries, and bandaids. And when he asked me for cheetos, I said no and he said some things along with the F word. But I got in line, and he quietly followed me, and we got to the car, and it never went next level. I mean, he was pissed, but it could have been worse. He was happy once he started reading in the car and happy after his lunch. And he confessed to me his deepest, darkest secret. (that I will not keep). His deepest darkest secret is that whenever he says some crappy thing to me, or anyone else, he doesn't mean it. He said he says it just to try to make someone else feel as bad as he feels because he is feeling bad. I get it though. And I don't take anything he says personally. Because at the end of each day, we pray, and he says, "mama, daba". Daba means "big hug". So I give him a Daba, and he says "most times my angel can't really have power over my devil because my devil is a little more powerful". But I remind him, "No. Your angel is more powerful because today you were only crappy about 10% of the day. You were difficult a handful of times. And you were good the rest of the day. You always reset and started over and for most of the day, you were good, so your angel won".

I'll write again soon, and likely write about how I've been living our life since I banned screens and devices. Well... he's been able to watch a little on the weekends (at the end end of the day), but taking away screen time is definitely harder for the parent I think, but it's been successful. It hasn't made things easier by any means, but it's for the best. I'll go into it later and maybe give a how to for parents who want to take on that challenge. But for now I just wanted to put into writing that life has been hard. It's hard in our own way. I'm blessed that's for sure, because my blessings by far outnumber my complaints for sure. I have a home, a bed, enough money to live, amazing kids, a great husband, a beautiful and supportive family, a good job, and so many friends. And although I see the good, and I'm as optimistic as I can be, I think it's ok to say out loud that some things ARE hard for me, and I'm trying my best to make it better every day. I just want my kids to be cool, and I don't want them to say the F word in public too much. I know it's just a word, but come on. Give me a break. LOL.  I'll be back soon.

Happy 70th Birthday - Back to the Blog

There is a LOT to say. I have not written on this blog in a long time. Each day I regret that I don't write down all of the amazing things my son says, the dumb things my daughters do, and all the crazy ideas I have. But today I come back to my old stomping grounds to say something about my Dad. It's his 70th birthday. On my mom's 70th birthday, we threw her this awesome party with a Salsa band, and the whole family came out to celebrate. We don't have a big hulabaloo planned for my pops, but he deserves a bit of recognition. My dad is the guy who: - Was the best dad you could ask for. Free reign on sweets and tv. - Was the carpool guy all through school. I mean, if you were my friend he has given you a ride somewhere. For sure. - Took us on some very basic AAA vacations that were absolutely unforgettable. - Supported my mom to make hundreds of tamales for each birthday party. - Sent and still sends snail mail, not only to me but to friends around the country. - Continues to wash dishes at my house for me way too often. - Can be a bit of a jerk, but aren't we all. - Loves scotchmallows. - Does not give a *&#! about ANYTHING people say. - Cries like a baby during Last of the Mohicans. - Loves my children with a very special unconditional love. It is a love that surpasses that of his wife and his own children. (maybe not more than Cathie - but real close!) - Is stubborn as can be. - Makes new years resolutions that he breaks around January 6th. - At the drop of a hat will help me. - Has a hard head but the empathy of a saint. - Showed me that feelings are just that - feelings. No big deal. - Lives his own life according to his own rules. - Is my son's #1 person. (He ranks me around #3) - Is my confidant. A pal and a confidant. - I owe my entire being to. So, Dad - I know you're reading. I want to thank you for making me. You and mom did a good job. Thank you for giving me and Cathie an amazing childhood, where you sheltered us from the world and led us to think that Nintendo and having fun was a valid way of life. Thank you for keeping us safe. Thanks for trusting us. Thanks for letting mom trust me even though she should not have. Thanks for piano lessons. Thanks for making us listen to Rocky Horror on Cassette tape. Thanks for teaching me to drive. For taking me on the 110 freeway first. But more than anything, Thank YOU for being the best grandpa. Thank you for giving my kids something so special. All the things you do with them, which are too many to list are what make you the living saint that you are. As much of a jerk I can say that you are, if you were not a jerk, or a Horlick, you would not be the best dad. So thanks dad. I love you once, I love you twice, I love you more than beans and rice.

About time huh?

Finally, a chance to write a public update about my life and adventures. My Monie is now 9 months old, crawling around everywhere, putting everything that could possibly kill him in his mouth, and smiling every few seconds. That kid is amazing. What a blessing. Being a mom the third time around seems to be the hardest, but I'm older, have 2 other ones, and so much more to do. Although it's more difficult - mainly because the little pincher and bruiser wakes up around 5:30 am, it's also so amazing. Whenever I walk away and he's on the floor and let's out a little cry, Effie runs over to the rescue to sing him a song, or tries to make him laugh. Celia can't walk past him without saying how much she loves him, or saying out loud that her little brother is in love with her. The love just abounds in the house. In fact, today I found a drawing that Celia did in the garage (the girls' new work studio) and it said the words "Happy Home" all over it. Can't help but feel happy about that.

I also can't help but feel blessed every day in a way I've never felt before. I'm feeling so good. This is the first year in my life that I've only had one cold, which only lasted a day or two. I've avoided countless stomach bugs, and thanks to organic apple cider vinegar and my chiropractor, I'm feeling extraordinarily healthy. But more thankful than healthy. There have been numerous people in and around my life with illnesses or ailments, and just different health issues that to me, living each day pain free and healthy is just something I'm so thankful for at this moment. If I had to, I'd deal with whatever came my way, but right now I'm able to face the daily challenges of washing dishes, raising 3 kids, and working without the difficulties that health issues pose. So - yeah, a bit of a tangent - but it's been on my mind.

It's honestly hard for me to hear complaints of others who are totally healthy. It's a waste of time and energy to complain when you have two legs, and a functioning brain. Just go do something because you're wasting precious time.

What I'm doing now is actually spending precious sleep time awake considering my son and I will be wandering around the neighborhood in about 5 hours. Oh well.

It's a short hello, and a quicker goodbye, but I really should crash now. But to my friends and family reading. Los quiero mucho. Happy Summer. :)

2012

Let me begin by saying in 2011 my laptop was drenched in water - by a spillage caused by effie's cup - and this led to the erasure of all my pictures taken from june to september including the way too intimate photos of ramone's birth by becky, the death of the delete key, and also the inability to type an exclamation point. So there.

And 2011 is over. It ended with the most lovely day after a major hustle and bustle of Christmas engagements, family visits, outings, and crazy craziness. And on that last lovely day of 2011 we slept in, ate our usual pancakes - ran errands thanks to meken, then finally had a chance to play with the girls, make a ton of music together, read, draw, mess up the house, cook and cook, cook some more, take a walk, laugh with Monchis, and we all watched a movie together. We did more than that but that was the gist of it. The little ladies who played soooo well with each other alllll day went to sleep early. Celia asked if we were gonna go to a New Year's Day party - and I said "no", then she responded "yes we are", and I said "oh yeah?" and she said "yeah - we're having a party at home with our family". And she was right - as today - New years day - we spent another glorious little day - just us, making a mess, listening to music, playing music, performing music, walking, cooking, cooking, and more cooking, and more talking to Ramone - and so on and so on. It was awesome.

And 2011 was pretty awesome too. Mostly because.... it meant the end of my pregnancy and the beginning of my new crazy life with ramone. Since he was born, I've been tired, overworked, overwhelmed, exhausted, but happy, content, and overall in love in a brand new way. All the insanity and inefficiency of the household is well worth it. "Monie" (as the girls call him) has made us feel like those brand new parents that never sleep, and never rest. He's made it even more difficult to walk out of the house in a timely fashion - if not almost impossible to get anywhere. He's forced me to stop almost everything I was doing a year ago just so I can hang out with him, feed him, love him, squeeze him to pieces, and enjoy being a new mom again. He's so fun. He's the greatest gift to everyone in the house and has brought us alllll so much love. As if we didn't have enough already, he's blessed us with just that much more.

I'm gonna stop here - and get back to the dishes, laundry, picking up, cleaning up, organizing, and thinking that I can try my best to do while he sleeps. So wish me luck. Thank you for all your love and friendship and kindness to my kids. I'm so excited to start this new year with the 5 of us - and thankful for all the blessings in my life. I'm a very lucky lady. Buenas noches.

New Mom

Hey friends. Yes it's been too long since my last post, but since I did give birth to the crazy kicker that lived in my womb for over 9 months I thought I'd write. I should probably be sleeping since I didn't sleep much at all last night. Maybe some 30 minute stretches here and there, but not much. Alex and I always laughed when people would say "You have a baby? oh well, good luck sleeping". Well, they said that a ton with Celia and Effie and we laughed because we always slept well. The girls didn't have extremely large burps to belch out after each feeding. Ramone does. The girls never spit up a bunch of milk after their feedings. Ramone does. The girls lovingly pooped during the day and left that business alone during the night most of the time. Ramone doesn't. The girls slept for many consecutive hours at night. Ramone does not. The girls smelled like pretty little girls. Ramone does not. Ramone is different. He has many traits that are good though that the girls didn't. Ramone likes the car, water in his face, and does not cry when you change his onesie and the onesie gets stuck over his big head. I mean, the girls would scream at those things, and Ramone could care less. But the whole sleep thing is throwing me off. The husband told a friend the other day that since Ramone has been born it's seemed like one very long day. I agree. The day he was born, almost a month ago has yet to finish.

There's really too much to tell. The birth itself was crazy. Mostly cuz the girls got to witness the exit of womb. The best part was the last push of that little sucker, cuz I pushed on my stomach the best I could with that last push and felt his little feet glide away. I knew it was the last time I'd feel those feet in the womb, and I was so ready for them to be out. In fact, of all the things I feel like saying or writing, is that I'm so honestly grateful and happy to not be pregnant anymore. Pregnancy is not easy. It was easier in my twenties, and this time around I continued to work, walk, clean, cook, take care of the girls, drive, etc... but not very well. In fact, today we were at griffith park. They've got a newly paved bike path that used to be a bike path of dirt, so we took the ladies to go ride bikes. And it was warm, and Ramone was snuggled up in his sling, and I walked and walked - , and despite the little man being heavy, despite the fact that I'm still dealing with the not fun at all fatigue and whatever not fun postpartum things you have to deal with, and despite the fact that I didn't sleep much nor have I slept much at all since I had this kid, I felt so good! I mean, I can now move without the extra 30 pounds of excess water, baby, uterus, and more. All the discomfort of having had a child to me now seems like nothing in comparison to the pregnancy. And although I didn't do too much complaining while pregnant (or did I?), now that I can lay on my stomach on the kid's bed to tuck the covers in on the wall side of the bunk bed means a lot to me. It really really does.

So thanks to Jesus, Ramone is here. Outside the womb. Happy. Healthy. So nothing else matters at all.

Over already

Tomorrow is the last Friday of the summer. I guess I could go on about how fast it goes but I'll just say it quickly. It went by fast. Again. As always. I haven't necessarily tried to make the most of each day with my kids, but it's not so bad cuz we swam almost every single day. The girls rode bikes out at least 3-4 times a week. They had music lessons almost daily. I almost finished my album. I sold everything I wanted to sell on criagslist. I got a new car. Went to the beach 3 times. My kids got to Disneyland. We entertained summer visitors. Had dinner with lots of friends. Found a new chiropractor that kept me able to walk. Managed to make my kid's bedtime later and later every night. Got the girls to sleep on their own, stay asleep on their own, and fall asleep on their own. I cooked about a zillion meals. Got a new accordion. And I got to enjoy my kids and be a little lazier than my usual busy self. There were TONS of things I did not do that I wanted to do, but I have a feeling when my 35 pound uterus shrinks back to size it may be easier for me to do. Camping ended up outta the question due to the mobility factor. Working did not happen due to the large belly factor. Lots of things were a bit hampered due to the pregnancy, but whatever. It's almost over then I'll figure out how I'll be able to get things done with a newborn around. Really... it was a wonderful summer. Maybe the best I've ever had despite the large uterus, forceful baby kicks, and almost dislocated pelvis. Thank God though, we are all ok. Our family is safe and healthy right now, and to me that's all that matters. The next big thing will be to post what my big big kicker is gonna look like outside of the womb, and I can't wait to meet him/her because we've had a nice long summer together and it's about time we get to know each other even better.

Summer Belly

Summer is just so fun. But I guess it's more fun when you don't have a job you have to go to everyday and can enjoy the 2 cutest girls on the planet. The sad part is two weeks of this precious time of the year are already gone :( But each day has been wonderful. We've been able to keep up with daily music lessons. The daily walks subsided due to pregnancy related pelvis shifting - but we stay busy. Today was the first day (for me) of swimming which was SO fun, and I can tell it will be a daily event for the girls now that it's warm enough and the cast was removed from Effie's arm. We also have been cooking every meal at home. We've gone out once so far - for lunch - and out once for donuts but other than that we've been able to manage around here. This is just a "checking in" post to say how happy I am with summer vacation - and that I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as well. I'll post some pics soon, but for tonight I just wanted to remind myself and the outside world of readers how fun it is to be on vacation, even if you can't go to the south of france. (but wouldn't that be nice?)

Bragger

I do think I have to brag a little. For one thing, I'm relatively healthy, alive, happy, and I have the summer off (kind of). Technically we've had 4 days of summer since the grand finale of 1st grade ended, and every day has been quite.... well, nice is too nice of a word, but I guess I can say quite "awesome".

However, being pregnant has been trying to take away a bit of that "awesome". Carrying around a 25 pound belly that you didn't have 6 months ago can at times be a pain ... not really in the butt, but a pain on the back and the legs for sure. I'm getting used to it, but I keep thinking how with Celia and Effie I was pretty much able to do whatever, walk at least 3 miles a day, and go to work up until the day I went into labor. But... with this kid it's a little different. Summer (as I brag) has given us the chance to get back to walking every day, which is radical, but I'm really a slow poke. Good thing my kids don't run much, nor does their dad, so I don't have to scoot quickly. And back to the pregnant thingy, well, most people I've talked to seem to remind me that during my other pregnancies, I did not have: 2 kids, multiple teaching jobs, a thousand things on my plate, musical endeavors, or to have to take kids to school. And that's why I'm so so so so so so so glad it's summer. Cuz now, I pretty much just have the 25 pound belly, and have 2 kids. Oh, but I forgot, I still have laundry, a CD to finish recording, cooking, dishes, and places to go... but if I can get back to bragging, at least I get to take naps! Yeah... thanks to Jesus, Alex is outta school, and on summer vacation from work, which means, each afternoon, when that afternoon lull settles in, which I know hits a lot of people, not just the pregnant ones, I get that look on my face, and that fatigue seems to overpower my demeanor, and Alex says "go lay down", and I all of a sudden get this mighty wind of energy to run up as fast as I can and throw off my shoes and dive into a pillow. And to brag some more, well, my naps used to be about the length of an "Animaniacs" episode, 18 minutes or so, but now, since the husband shuts the doors and takes the kids outside, are at least an hour of super duper rest absolutely necessary for a pregnant woman to function like a non-PMSing woman or for any human being to be mentally stable enough to be kind. So, I appreciate it, and it allows the household to carry on in a plesant, well fed, and happy way.

Summer, as I continue to brag, has also brought about some new routines that have proven to be more reason for people to wish I was their mother. First, we have begun daily music lessons around here. It used to be that Celia would practice once a week or so apart from her regular lessons, but now she - and Effie get a good amount of music time each day in which they are learning the repertoire for the 9am English mass at Cristo Rey. At the rate we're going, they may be able to play all the mass sets in about a year (well), but so far they've learned about 3 songs. Celia on violin, and Effie is playing a small casio keyboard with her little left hand along with us. They are so so so amazing.

The second new routine is getting back to walking, which I will not elaborate on in detail because despite rather interesting conversations that takes place between Alex and the girls, and the extremely strange imaginary games they play with each other, like Effie pretending she left her physical body 3 blocks away and that the person actually following us is an alien twin sister of the real Effie, walking is never that exciting. I'm just happy when we're done, cuz I'm telling you. This little kicking 25 pound uterus/baby/womb/excess belly is not the most fun walking companion.

Routine number 3 is hanging out with the girls and Alex in the backyard after dark. We've been setting up lawn chairs, and for a few nights in a row, the girls make videos only lit with flashlights or flashing minnie mouse ears that light up. They just scream and chase each other around in the dark, then we sit down and take turns making up more strange stories. One of Effie's yesterday was about how this girl had a spoon that was large enough to reach the planet Mars, and that the girls who climbed it actually (and yes she says the word "actually" about twice per sentence) had to make a big helmet out of a cooking pot, which needed to be fixed in order to have a space for her eyeballs to be able to see, then decided a rocket ship, and a teeny tiny one (mind you) needed to be attached to a roller coaster that went up the giant spoon to Mars. And so those types of stories continue till I get too cold and tired and make everyone go inside. Tonight was even better though, cuz Alex set up our camping air mattress and brought out pillows and blankets so the girls could watch the few stars you can actually see in Glendale cozily. It was definitely a hit, but by the time the girls did go to bed, Effie was in tears cuz she said "that thing we were on in the backyard when we were laying down" was a lot more fun to sleep on than her bed. Wow. It really is fun to brag, and you're all lucky I don't own a personal journal, nor do I have patience to handwrite entries anymore, cuz now my personal life is just available for everyone to read.

And... I'll stop there but just say, that I am so lucky. Super lucky. Super happy. And if I'd be grateful for however many more days my life allows me to live, cuz life for me sure is good. Happy summer everyone! Make the most of it :)

Victoria

I'm waiting patiently and quietly unless someone calls me. If you know me, and you know me well, you know that over 6 years ago when Celia was born, she never slept in a crib. Maybe once or for some naps, but that thing took up too much space, plus, I was much more comfortable with the kid in the bed and happy I never had to wake up in the middle of the night to warm up or fix a bottle, which she never took anyway. When the sibling came, they both had a spot in between Alex and I always cuddled warm and cozy, and that carried on until recently. About a month or more has passed since the big girls decided to use their own bunk bed. The sleep together on the bottom bunk and every once in awhile someone pays a visit to our bed in the middle of the night. But until today I was still laying down with them to read books and wait for them to doze off before crawling out myself in a state of half sleep and fatigue that was ever so consuming. But we have been trying to have chats here and there about independence, and more than anything I'm getting too big and uncomfortable to be squeezed between them on a full sized mattress and climbing over them to escape for the night. So... tonight has been that first night that I tucked em in, gave them the official countdown after their prayers (count down from 10 to zero the hero hero hero as Cathie and Dad will understand) and left. Celia walked out with an owey complaint then went back, and after about 40 minutes they were still awake, tossing around, and talking to each other. I'm actually curios so I'll go check on them. Hold on..... well, whatdaya know. Success! I even took a picture to prove it. Certain things, that to other parents came a lot earlier, to us have taken some time. In one way it doesn't seem like a big deal, but for me, it means a new sense of freedom, and really a milestone. I remember weaning the two, and thinking it'd be a huge difficult deal, and it wasn't. Having them sleep in their bed came quite naturally, even though it took awhile. They still haven't mastered the art a riding a 2 wheeler, and Celia still gets a little extra help getting ready for school, but hopefully with some hard work, they will soon be cooking breakfast and doing the laundry.

Some people say that as soon as a kid is able to do something independently, they should do it. Well, so much for that one. I'm quite aware that my kids are capable of much more than they do. In fact, I myself was probably capable of doing A HECK OF A LOT independently that I DID NOT do when I should have, but I think my parents have always been too nice. I definitely wanna be too nice too, but I think I'll try to step it up a bit when they're older. Surely I don't want to be a militant mom, but I just don't think I'll be able to do it all on my own. A new Q will be here soon. I'm gonna be on overload, so I better start getting them to do everything they can on their own right? Well, I guess I'll at least try. As for now, tonight's victory seems like a great start :)

Hi. It's now March, and considering today was such a warm - well, actually hot day, all I could think about was summer. I love summer. I love not having to make lunch at 6:30am, or having to wake up a child that likes to sleep until 8:30am, and not having to drive around so much unless I want to. It's so fun. But then, I'm a lucky lady - cuz I get to be with my kids, work a little here and there, and I get to be with them so much. Other people get to too, but I am there ... most of the time... and it's all that matters to me.

I've been on vacation mode - with no Music Classes - really but in 2 weeks I'll be teaching over 10 music classes a week so I'll have to adjust. Now that I have a bigger belly that's getting in the way, and that the heat may be here to stay I can tell I'm in for it, so wish me luck.

The little ladies have done a lot of fun stuff lately. I left them with their father while I worked a few hours last week, and I asked him to do the dishes. I came home- and no dishes were washed, but the girls had made paper mache masks, and other objects, and a 10 foot collage with very odd pictures. That is something I don't do on a regular basis, so I forgave the lack of housework, because the ladies are so lucky to have a dad that won't let them be idle, who wants to create with them and let them be creative, and even though my mom may not believe it, when they are with me - they are usually playing while I clean... ok - so sometimes I don't get to clean everything - but I do get to make a mess and cook a lot.

And today the little girls got their hair chopped. Being pregnant, I'm a bit more on the lazy side. I just wanted to sit around, eat, and gossip with my friend who was over, but Effie asked for a hair cut, and Celia insisted the hair hanging on her neck was giving her a heat rash - so my friend encouraged me and got my scissors and helped me out. We just chopped away, and bam - the girls went from long haired ladies to bobbed beauties. They look adorable, and being someone who shaved her head - you would understand that I do not have much attachment to hair. It comes, it goes, and sometimes it even goes for good, so whatever, who cares.

My first born is now much closer to being a 2nd grader. My baby is almost gonna be a kindergardener. The other little kicker in the womb will be out before I know it. Time is passing a bit too quick don't cha think? I always tend to visualize the calendar in my mind - with September being the New Year - and we are just that much closer to the new year. All I can foresee is a couple of months of incredible quick movement, with teaching, mommying, the husband schooling, cooking, selling a car, having a yard sale, having numerous play dates, parties, gigs at libraries, face painting at parties, playing at church, making lunch, doing dishes, taking kids to school, picking kids up from school, going to work, working at work, working at schools, schooling at schools, dropping kids off, trying to nap, trying to plan, planning to try, and so on and so on and so on. And it exhausts me to think about it, so I'll stop. Cuz really - right now, even though tomorrow I have to do many of those things - make a lunch, make sure 2 kids are brushed, fed, pottied, and clothed, make it to music class on time, get another to school, pick another up early, go on a lunch date, take them to the dentist, get them to their Thursday Mama Lety day, clean up, get to Yoga class, then do all the night time routines and trying to cook at least 2 meals between, before, or throughout all of the above, at least right now I'm ok and rested and mentally ready.

Ciento Viente

Hi party animals.

Glad to be back in the world of the writing. It's 12:46 and about 29 minutes ago, I was talking to my almost sleeping husband about my disdain for the dishes that were hanging out in the kitchen. I felt a little awkward about letting them sit there over night, since some of them still contained much food. The pile was big and frightening, and I wanted to ignore it. The husband said he'd get to them tomorrow and to relax and go to bed, but since I had a small burst of energy, I felt that if I were to tackle those bad boys tonight, then he can focus on putting them all away tomorrow, and I would not likely have nightmares about them. So I walked to the kitchen, and tried to turn on the little silver radio my sister let me borrow, but I think it's seeing its last days. It would not turn on. I'll check the batteries tomorrow and if that doesn't work, I'll have the husband perform radio surgery. Anyhow, I was not able to be accompanied by the midnight rants of the Coast to Coast programming, which definitely lends itself to being a decent "doing the dishes comrade", so I went solo. I thought of my beat up hands that shower in scalding water for 20-40 minutes at a time each day and wondered if there my come a day that I become that lady who wears yellow plastic gloves while washing. Hmmm.. I doubt that will happen. After a few minutes of my domestic duty, I felt the satisfaction of taking on the task because I knew that tomorrow, or shall I say later, when I wake up, I still have to get ready, shower, make multiple lunches, pack, get kids dressed, make sure they eat, brush, and comb some braids, not to mention other things. So, at least now in the morning, I can do those zillions of things and not have to scoff at the stupid freakin' lame poopy dishes.

And here I am. Happy to be alive amidst all the worldly chaos. Happy that my most frequent complaint about my life actually happens to be the dishes. Happy that even though my kids keep coughing they are here with me and alive. Happy that I can make others happy. Happy you are reading. And happy that I'm about to make the decision to stop writing so I can get to bed before 1:04am.

Glasses?

Can't find my glasses, but I'll write anyway. It's a new year - haven't written much - not even when I've wanted too. I'm kickin myself in the butt for not writing down the many "effie-isms" that have been said lately. I mean, she's way too funny for her own good.

I'll just briefly explain - in list form some new things:

1. My bed is covered in many new pillows. They are very cozy.
2. The bed is also covered with 8 stuffed animals, a ton of change from someone emptying out a piggy bank, and clothes.
3. I'm writing in bed - on my laptop. Probably the first sara the sub blog to ever be written under covers.
4. I've been extremely lazy about doing anything. (probably cuz I'm pregnant)
5. My dishes are done - although the rest of the house looks like a tornado went through it. And to tell you the truth, at this moment, a blog entry and sleep are more important than a mess that I"ll just have to clean and re-clean for the rest of my life.
6. I'm getting bigger by the second. I can feel it.
7. I'm hungry for a full meal about every 2 hours.
8. Still doin the sub thing.
9. Still doin the music thing.
10. I'm so extra dumb busy that it's annoying but my life is so good, I'm gonna say I'd rather it not be any different.

So finally - I got a camera. That to me - besides being pregnant - has been the most exciting thing to happen to me in the last couple of weeks. I forgot the life I used to live behind a viewfinder - and it was always a life with a bit more curiosity, wit, and braver. I have gotten that feeling back. The one you get when you see a picture you want to take, but maybe you're too embarrassed to take it, cuz you don't want anyone to think you're crazy, then you think to yourself "hey, the worst thing that can happen is that they will tell you don't", and so you go on, and just point the camera and do not make eye contact and play dumb. But this doesn't happen often because my subjects are not commonly strangers - but my kids. And the girls never hesitate to pose or smile. And that's awesome.

We've been doing the same old things. Cooking. Driving. Eating. Sleeping. Cleaning. Cooking. Taking to school. Practicing. Homeworking. Not walking. Music classing. And all those things over and over again.

My girls are huge. So big. And so beautiful. They are the most beautiful beautiful little creatures on earth - and they are so excited that a little baby inside my tummy will soon meet them. They can't wait to teach the kid to talk, dance, and have fun. And the baby has been a good incentive for them to be good. As soon as they start to bicker I say. "is that what you wanna show the baby? The baby can hear you - so you better make a good example so the baby won't learn to argue". And they kind of listen, walk up to my belly, rub it, and say "hi baby", and go back to playing.

Celia's waiting for her 2nd tooth to come out. And Effie likes a lot of hair gel to keep her bangs outta her face. They are both so amazing that each time I take a good look at them, I know exactly why I was put on this earth, and I know exactly why I always felt I was destined to do something amazing in this world - and it's because of them. Making those two little girls was EXACTLY what I was born to do. And I'm sure I'll feel the same about "baby #3". He or she is going to be just as wonderful and amazing, and let's all send up the good vibes, prayers, and love that "baby #3" stays safe and gets out of that womb ok, and hopefully not bigger than Effie's whopping 9.8 lbs. Geeeeezzz.

I'll be seeing you readers around as I continue to grow and grow. Bug me and I'll write another blog before another month passes ok.

Yes. New Year. Blog.

Hi people. I was fast asleep in the land of "put my kids to bed and fall asleep with them and scrap your plans of getting anything done while they're asleep", then the phone rang (thankfully) and here I am. So instead of being asleep I can dutifully write the blog I've been meaning to blog for a blong time. Hmm.

And yes - 2010 passed rather quickly I must say without much going on in the world of Sara the Sub, but with some inspiration from my pops and his new blog - I feel like I should go back to the same fervor I once had about writing about my kids and my life. I really should continue- more than anything because this particular blog has been the blog detailing what I've done the past few years considering I no longer keep a journal or diary. So I guess that means I just have to continue to publicly publish the events that occur in the world of... hmmm.. I mean... the life of... as someone else says "me".

I'm good at making lists - but to write a list of the best things of 2010 would require some brain cells containing memory of 2010 and right now it all seems like a big blur. I believe Effie was in school, Celia finished one grade and went to the other, some offspring learned Spanish, I taught, started music jobs, ended music jobs, tried to get a job, didn't get a job, got some other jobs, played at new places, entertained new faces, tied my shoe laces, etc, etc, etc.

No - for reals. I guess a lot did happen. The CD turned out to be a great success. In fact I just got word that a group of elementary school children in Argentina are listening to my CD almost daily - and according to my CDBABY sales, 3 random people from across the United States are listening as well. Ha. I never meant for the CD to go much of anywhere, but I'm proud to say that multiple parents of children who enjoy the CD have told me they are very very tired of listening to it. That must mean - the kids are not.

Nothing particularly changed this year. Besides a zillion friends popping out children - most things stayed the same. Thankfully it was not a year or crisis for the most part. My mom made it through surgery like the tough lady she is. My dad still likes donuts. My sister found a boyfriend and strange enough I kind of do not remember life "before" him much. One day soon after they started dating I saw him chillaxing on my mom's sofa, feet up and all, and I thought to myself, "has this guy always been here and I just didn't notice or what?" The dog he brought into the family has been a nice Horlick addition as well. My kids are now little "masterminders" now that Dave is around which is cool. I became a great-aunt - and my nephew is getting hitched soon. Luckily - all the events that 2010 brought were accompanied with a bit of success and very little failure. In fact - maybe no failure at all.

I'm super happy that 2010 brought a camping trip and at the tail end a small road trip to the desert. Getting away does a lot of good. My kids turned out to be very good at being entertained my books on CD, a Nintendo DS, Strawberry Shortcake coloring books, drawing pictures of "jraguns" (that's how Celia spells dragons), and looking out the window for hours at a time. Which means that since road trip number 1 went well, we will be much more likely to plan road trip number 2 sooner than later.

The holidays turned out to be crazy, and hectic, and all that jazz, and maybe the best part of the new year is being rid of that madness- but we survived and Santa was pretty good to my kids for the most part. Effie was happy she didn't get any of the mud that had been threatened to show up throughout the year.

And along with the music stuff, work stuff, school stuff, cooking, dishes, dishes, dishes, cooking, visiting, walking, sleeping, driving, cleaning, and other regular activities, we made time to change things up a bit, with new friends, play dates with wine (not for the kids), going back to school (Alex), piano lessons, piggy banks, organizing, a yard sale, and no more disneyland passes (to name a few).

But I'll stop here - just so I can post pictures - and hopefully find some inspiration that will bring the blog back a bit more regularly. Thank you for reading last year. Hope you keep with me this year. Thank you for being so awesome. If this year can be even "almost" as good as last year - I'll be ok with that.

Go Go Go!

I am in a bit of a hurry cuz it's already 12:39am. I put the girls to bed around 7:45pm, and then I had set my alarm to get me up at 8:35pm. I woke up VERY hesitantly and dragged myself over to where Alex was and told him there was no way I could stay awake, and that in the morning I'd do all the things that I wanted to do. He said ok, then I went to check my email, and I got a second wind! GREAT. Good thing I did because since I re-woke up at 8:35pm, I have:

1) washed dishes twice
2) eaten tres leches cake once
3) had a cup of coffee
4) went grocery shopping
5) made a veggie platter for a party
6) made salsa for the week
7) made beans for tomorrow
8) folded laundry
9) listened to a podcast of "this american life"
10) cut up a pineapple and a watermelon for tomorrow
11) checked facebook
12) questioned my new haircut
13) almost finished writing a blog

Wow. I bet I even forgot to write something... or not. Anyhow... so all is good in my hood. It's been awhile since I've written and each day my kids get funnier and funnier. Today we went back to Vincent Lugo Park - (super duper tool as Effie would say - yes tool instead of cool) - and we did the usual jump on dinosaurs and sit in the rocket ship. When we were playing - Celia wanted to play "President and Vice President". So she was President and Effie was VP, but Effie kept insisting she was the "Wife's President", cuz that's how she understood her role. What a cookie head.

That kid is so funny, that I'm so bummed that I don't video tape her every move and word. She's amazing. Celia is equally amazing, just not as funny. She, on the other hand has gotten into being a first grader, but is such a little perfectionist that it's getting tricky around here. I won't get into detail, but let's just say homework can take a long time and we use up lots of erasers.

This is the first week in months and months and months that every remote in our house - the Wii remote, the DVD player remote, and the TV remote all have batteries. This may not be a big deal to you, but it's a big change for me. Before that, and for months we had only 2 very weak batteries that barely even allowed the Wii to function, and we had to swap them out of each remote anytime we had to use a different device. It was annoying and lame, and glory be to the heavens, we have batteries again. Not that I ever get a chance to see much anyway, but it is something I felt very important to share to whoever in the world decided to read this.

And since now it is 12:49am, I'm gonna go now. I'll try to keep up with you all, and good luck with all the holiday madness that starts to ensue starting next week. I'm gonna try to keep it on the DL.

Hace Mucho

Hace mucho, means "it's been awhile".

Each and every day that I'm with my little Effie, (or should I say "big" Effie), and Celia, and Alex, I think about how much I could share with you. There have been so many wonderful moments in the past month that have made me feel like the luckiest person alive.

It's been quite an adjustment going back to work. It's also been quite hectic, crazy, emotional and eye opening.
Alex is back in school which has been an adjustment in its own. But between working at the high school almost daily, continuing with music classes, taking kids to school, teaching at daycares, cooking, cleaning, putting gas in the cars, doing never ending loads of laundry, waking kids up, putting kids to bed, reading stories, grading papers, writing curriculum, trying to get a foot in the door, and the most difficult task of them all: packing lunches - it's been ... well, I can't say easy, or hard, but I'd say.... a little bit crazy.

Earlier this school year, we lost a friend and a co-worker. Dallas Russell was the first math teacher I ever had that helped me actually "get" algebra. He used to chant "This is where the fun starts", and when he would, Vicky, Mary, Brian, and I would chant along, wiggle in our seats, and get to work. I remember vividly, drinking Snapples in his class and asking questions, while my buddies didn't fare as well. That was in 1996. Since I continued to work at the high school where I graduated from, Mr. Russell and I became friends. I remember on a few occasions sitting across from him while eating lunch at a little Vietnamese restaurant thinking: "I'm sitting across from Mr. Russell", practically in awe. His presence was always about 300 percent above everyone else. His huge stature, his stutter, his overbearing bear hugs, his high fives, and his encouragement was beyond unique.

Mr. Russell was a real buddy to my buddy, and x-boss, x-History teacher Mr. Blackford. Together, they both made it to Celia's baptism, and it wasn't until I had kids that Mr. Russell really connected with me. He told me more than any other person how SPECIAL these moments were. The moments when the children are young. When they love you more than you can ever imagine. When they depend on your every move. He constantly told me to cherish them. Whenever he'd see Alex he'd practically pick him up. And Alex is a big guy, so to see this huge teacher hug and lift my husband was always funny. But it wasn't just a hug. He connected with us in a different way as parents, and I'm glad he did. I started this blog to write about my girls. I'm glad I can look back and remember those silly, sad, happy, and always beautiful moments of my children as babies. I'm grateful that Mr. Russell told me to cherish those moments, because I still do, and always will.

He had a demeanor that other teachers envied. I heard many times, teachers saying they wished they could have just an ounce of his personality that made the students love him. Many just wanted a little of that to rub off on them to feel what he had. We could never walk down the hall together without one student after another acknowledging him. He really was extraordinary.
One day, probably 10 years ago on a lunch date with Blackford and Mr. Russell, he made us stop at the not-entirely abandoned jail on San Fernando Road near the 5 and 110 freeway. We walked in, went up to the roof to see the helicopter landing, then to an old gym. In the gym were some old time cholo types, practicing boxing, and there went Mr. Russell, hugging and high five-ing every guy in the place. Years before on his way to work, Mr. Russell would stop by that gym to work out. It was a special place to him, and meant more to him than the other 15 gyms he had membership to. He was SO happy to be there. He was SO happy to share that moment of his past. He was SO happy to show how he could bench press a zillion pounds. To me he was indestructible. I always wondered what those old cholos in there thought when they saw me, a scrawny young girl, tagging along with a middle-aged Okie, and an ex-pro football playing teacher. Although we were an odd trio, Mr. Russell never ceased to surprise me, or do something to share his happiness. We really miss him, just as thousands of his old friends and students do. Anyone who knew him had a story, and I wanted to take the time to share one too, because I don't want to forget him. I don't want anyone to forget him. I think teachers should strive to be as passionate to their students as he was. I thank him for inspiring me to be a teacher too, and showing me how to do my job and connect with students at the same time. I always bothered him for never letting me sub in his class. The man was never absent. He never missed a day. Now I wish I would have never asked him that, because now he's gone, and I did have to sub for his class a couple weeks ago. But I bet he was watching down on me - chanting for me to be the champ. I tackled some Trigonometry that day, and actually taught the kids, having never even looked at a Trig problem in my life. Maybe he just knew I'd be able to handle it.

I'll save the next posts to mention my lovely little ladies who are more darling and dazzling than ever. I hope all you readers are well, happy, and healthy. Be good. And be patient cuz I'll write more soon. :)