On being the new girl

Our middle school has a day each year (fondly known as stalk-a-student day) where parents come along and follow their children through their classes. Even though it's scheduled on a shorter day with shortened classes, I am always SO EXHAUSTED at the end of the day, drained by all the newness, the trodding from place to place, the sitting still and listening over and over.

Every year it made me a little more charitable towards my drooping, tired teenagers who would come through the door at the end of the day. Suddenly I better understood the need for snacking (not that I ever needed to stretch to understand that, mind you), the pull of the sofa (ditto), the need to put their feet up for a few minutes before launching into the afternoon.

I had the same, exhausted feeling all last week. I think I experienced some kind of jet lag job lag with adjusting to the new schedule, filling my brain chock full of new information, talking to grownups, being "on" for a whole slew of hours in a row, and getting up earlier & hitting the ground running.

Sunrise, Boston

Now that the job lag has mostly subsided I can wrap my brain around some of my impressions of highlights, challenges, and essentials for this new venture.

Highlights:

1. Having a name badge that I swipe to get in and out of a restricted door between the museum and the elevators to my office. It just feels so clandestine and official at the same time.
2. Wearing work clothes. Still feels like dress up but maybe the novelty will wear off eventually.
3. The luxury of focusing without distraction for a few hours.
4. The flexibility of my workplace. I work 7-3 and it could not be more perfect (well...8 to 2 would be awesome, too). Also? Most of my department works from home at least one day a week; after a few months there I'll be eligible to do that, too.
5. The location on the wharf with a lovely view of Boston and the harbor. Have you been to Boston? My office is above the Children's Museum, the building next to the the giant Hood milk bottle on the dock, and near the site of the Boston Tea Party. The views make me happy every time.
6. Having work mates. Although I've only admitted it to a few people, I have been just plain lonely for the last while and this is a nice remedy. (By the way, one colleague is planning on going on 180 dates in 2012. She's got some good stories.
7. Two words: Office supplies.
8. The job itself feels like such a great fit and, at the same time, it stretches me. It's gratifying and invigorating.

Challenges:

1. The obvious: Getting everything done at home that I used to do. It took me about 4 days to finish all the laundry last week, where I used to be a Monday-is-laundry-day, start to finish, kind of gal.
2. Leaving the house at 6:15 a.m. Yawn. One day at a time on this one.
3. Negotiating my flex hours. I was nervous to ask but I'm so glad I did. Note to self: you don't know if you don't ask.
4. I miss margins. I kind of like long transitions between things and prefer big margins to my day. Those are gone. It's a tradeoff.
5. Will I ever make it to the post office again? (Sorry, Lauren, your package is coming SOON.)
6. Being the new girl is exhilarating and also humbling. It's a challenge to start from scratch on everything: where the light switch is, how to do everything, what the office culture does and doesn't do, and all the details about the organization and my particular job. It hurts me brain sometimes.

Couldn't do it without:

1. G. taking over the morning send-off responsibility. I miss those morning minutes with Maddy and Sam but I'm thrilled for him that he gets to have that time with them. I'm so grateful for him and his boundless, enthusiastic support. Plus he has a cold this week. Extra bonus points for G.
2. Calling, texting, leaving notes, adding new routines and rituals to our day (my every-morning note to Sam, for example).
3. Amazon and the occasional grocery home delivery. Some things had to go and I have pretty much abdicated my errand running in favor of online purchasing. Again, it's a trade off.
4. Protecting my time at home. All I want to do when I get home is hang out with my people. I'm both an adventurer and a homebody (trivia: did you know this blog was first named "Ambitious Homebody"? It's true.) and I need my home time. Work will be plenty adventure for me for now.
5. Ah, at the risk of repeating: That flexible schedule. I'm so grateful to preserve my afternoons at home and to feel like there's still a good part of the day left when I get home.
6. Supportive, lovely friends (both near and far) who talked me down and built me up on more than one occasion.

Speaking of lovely and supportive, thanks for your kind, generous comments and emails and texts. They meant more to me than you know.

Special.

When I first returned to grad school, I remember that I had visions of emulating Mr. Rogers. Not his fame. Not even really his medium of puppetry and television. Just his wholehearted authenticity and work to make the world a better place for children.

I'd kind of forgotten of that inspiration lately so I was delighted to read these letters this morning, via my daily treat read of a site, Letters of Note:

letters via the fabulous Letters of Note

What a remarkable exchange, especially knowing that it was probably replicated hundreds, thousands of times with other young and old correspondents. Just brim-full with compassion and...namaste.  It reminded me to look up one of my all-time favorite articles, a 1998 profile of Fred Rogers in Vanity Fair magazine (reposted here; you might want to know there are a couple of profanities).

Indulge me with another favorite (I think I posted this before but I can't find it for sure).  I dare you to watch it and take the 10 second challenge he issues. 

I can't be Mr. Rogers. I'm just not that guy, not that good or thoroughly guileless, don't have the sweaters or the single-focused discipline. 

Over time my interests have evolved to be oriented more around parents than children. But this morning I realized I still take a great dose of inspiration from him. I think parents (everyone, really) experience processes of development and growth and change in their roles with accompanying emotions and challenges that can be equally bewildering and novel. Mr. Rogers's preschooler friends are not the only ones trying to figure out their world and thirsty to know they are known, understood, and supported. We don't outgrow that.

So, in honor of Mr. Rogers, I'd like to say to you, reading this: you are good and capable and special.  Just the way you are.

Your blog friend and neighbor,

A.

Notes to self

 

Dear Tummy,

I'm sorry for the rich party food I ate at the 4 festive gatherings this weekend. (Seriously, though. That baklava? Insanely good!) Today is all virtuous clementines and salad and water. Truce?

Love,

Full me

. . .

Dear Thighs,

Don't. Even. Think about it. Please disregard everything I ate this weekend (see above). 

Love,

Pear-shaped me

. . .

Dear Head, Nose, Throat, and Eyes,

Thank you so much for clearing up and going back to normal.  I promise not to take you for granted any more. Also (this is for you, nose) enjoy the lovely pine tree smell and the mulling spices. Who loves you, huh?

Love,

Glad-to-be-well me

. . .

Dear Brain,

I know you see December on the calendar and throw confetti in the air and dance a jig. But I really, really need you to stay focused for just a few more days. A week, max. Also, I absolutely love the ideas you produce but your whirring in the middle of the night is a bit much.  Same with your worry output. Relax, brain. There's plenty of time and love in the world. Talk to your friend the heart now and then; that'll calm you down.

Love,

Paper-writing me

. . .

Dear Tongue,

Um, I don't know how to tell you this but Christmas card day is upon us soon. Man up, tongue! Stop cowering. It's envelope licking season and you're it. Hey, good news, though! The stamps are adhesive! You're welcome.

Love,

Bossy me

. . .

Dear Trunk,

Do you mind if I call you that? Trunk? You know who I'm talking to: arms-back-chest-belly-shoulders. Have you noticed a wonderful change lately? No, not the baklava, silly. Have you noticed how warm you are when outside? How snuggled in downy goodness? Let's hear it for the fabulous new winter coat you are wrapped in. That shivering from last year had to go, especially with all that dog walking. Here's to many winter adventures, including (fingers crossed) skiing with the kids, snowshoeing, and sledding. p.s. Rear end, I've even got you covered here, just like you prefer.

Love,

Cozy me

. . .

Dear Hair,

Yeah. Sorry. You've been neglected. Hang in there! (Ha, ha.)

Love,

Shaggy, lazy me

. . .

photo via here

The pull

Here's what gets me out on my (somewhat) daily 4-miler: the scenery is both a distraction and a payoff.

Join me?

Fields of green and gold

 Shady, winding roads (the better to think on, my dear)

Sunlight through the trees (and, oh!, the hill...huff, huff)

And then my favorite part: the scene opens up and the sky is wide

(reminds me of home) 

What a vista. Chat with a woman in the field about a bird's egg she's found.  Say hi to the horses.

Lean over, hands on knees.  Breathe. Stand up, retrace steps, and head back home. (Downhill now!)

Splay on the grass for a few minutes' recovery and sport a red exertion face for the next hour.

Want to host a tour in your neck of the woods? Post scenes from a walk/run/ride around your neighborhood and leave the link in the comments here. Armchair travel, my favorite!