Domestic Bliss

I have my own stories to share today about domestic bliss, but you should check out this story first. If you've ever moved a shared object only to be met by the sheer terror of your partner upon not returning it, this story is for you. If you're perfect and always return things after you've moved them, you can skip it.

A few snippets into the day and life of the Pete Family....

Mr. Pete found an expired cookie mix in the pantry. I was cleaning out the pantry and rather than help me, he decided to maximize our time by making a sodium-laced-I'll-never-eat-that-crap prepackaged cookie mix instead of helping me with my insatiable desire to organize our entire house before baby bird arrives.

Mr. Pete: what's the best way to soften butter

Me: uhm, just leave it out and it will come to room temperature

Mr. Pete: uhm, isn't there a faster way to do it

Me: you can microwave it but then it melts and the cookies just aren't the same

The sound of silent baking fills our kitchen as I toss taco seasoning packages from 1998. I emerge from the pantry covered in a mysterious sticky substance to find Mr. Pete with a glass bowl ON THE STOVE TOP attempting to "soften" the cookie dough.

Me: Uhm, take that off the stove, stat!

Mr. Pete: Why? What's wrong?

Me: You are an engineer, do I have to tell you?

Mr. Pete: I guess

Me: Heating glass using a direct heat source causes the potential for the class to break.

Mr. Pete: Why?

Me: (fearing for my life remembering this kid keeps airplanes in the air) Becausesese when you heat part of the glass at a certain temperature and it contracts, the rest of th glass at the other temperature does not, and it could shatter. You can't even put Pyrex on direct heat.

Mr. Pete (obviously impressed) You should be an engineer.

Later in the day.....

Context: Mr. Pete has a wrinkly forehead. This is caused by his intensity. When he talks to you, he talks to you. His entire forehead gets in on the action. Nothing on his face is undisturbed. Seriously, watch him talk some time. In conversations where is intent on getting his point across, his eyebrows stay pressed against his hairline for long periods of time. It's kind of scary looking. I've encouraged him to moisturize citing that his skin may retain it's elasticity longer if he uses some moisturizing serum, but he doesn't really believe me. This conversation occurred while I was surfing the web and he was scrutinizing his boyish good looks.

Mr. Pete: Maybe I should get Botox for my forehead.

Me: Maybe you should try not talking with your forehead for a little while.

Oh yeah, what did you do today?

$100 the price it probably costs to hire a substitute when I stay home from school after a sleepless headache-filled night

$75 the cost of towing a broken down Stella Scooter approximately one mile after the clutch went out

$11 the cost of having a new-er tire put on to my Honda Civic after I ran into a curb in a sketchy part of town while searching for Mr. Pete

$19.99 the cost of a car charger for Mr. Pete's chocolate phone---he should use said charger so that he is not say, stranded on the side of the road with a broken down scooter while his wife is risking her life (read running into curbs) trying to find him

$2.00 the price of yesterday's paper that the woman at the Shell station sold me while I was waiting for my friend Brad to come help me rescue Mr. Pete

$20 the cost of eye drops for pinkeye

$9.99 Aloo Choley from Baba India for two to remedy the wounded souls of this day

Being at home on the couch =priceless

Grocery List

My Grocery List

• brown sugar
• dish soap
• maple syrup
• flour
• cereal

Mr. Pete's Grocery List

• strawberry Qwick
• Ice cream
• Ice cream toppings
• pepperoni

Birthday Girl

I just turned the big 2-? and I'm pretty stoked about being that much closer to 30. It was a fun filled birthday complete with delicious sweets and a mini spa day from Mr. Pete.

This was the first birthday when I didn't have time to retreat to my favorite coffee shop for an annual time of reflection and journaling. Mr. Pete and I had a packed holiday schedule and decided to host a little soiree in the new abode. I usually spend my time rereading my journal from the year and reflecting on how quickly time passes. This has been a big year: we bought our first house, I taught my first college class, Mr. Pete started grad school, we celebrated two years of marriage, I started my sixth year of teaching, and I bought a Swiffer (hey it changed my life). Needless to say, we've had some monumental changes.

Untitled

In her article, "Rethinking How to Teach New Teachers," Denise Caruso validates the profession of teaching:
"Economic research shows that an educated work force is the foundation of a stable economy. A good education does more than just increase a person’s earning potential. Studies find that regions that produce well-educated high school graduates have a higher rate of business start-ups and more economic activity. Graduates also provide communities with a continuing pool of taxpaying labor.

As teacher rosters shrink, the question is this: How long will such regions be able to hold onto those benefits?

The well-known liabilities of teaching — low pay, overcrowded classrooms and crippling budget constraints — have led recent graduates to opt for more lucrative career options."

I've never thought of teaching so pragmatically. I've never thought that the local economy would be impacted not only by the rating our district receives on a report card, but by our students returning to give back to their community in a very tangible way.

I remember in middle school staying up late on the phone with my friend Andrea. We were two little suburbanites who thought we knew what the world's troubles were and we were the smart girls who would grow to be smart young women who changed the world. I ran into Andrea a few years ago at a happy hour and we reminisced about those conversations. She said, "well you're doing it."

Sometimes it just doesn't feel like change. Today I cleaned up chocolate smeared on my floor, I answered the same question at least 15 times, and someone breathed "b****" under their breath in a subtle way when I wouldn't let them move seats. That doesn't change the world.

Tonight, our local Chipotle had a school fundraiser. I met up with my homeroom class of about ten students for what I called a "family dinner." We sat around a table "smashing" burritos (that's teenager for eating something up) and giggling. I watched a young man let the ladies in line go ahead of him. I watched people say "please" and "thank you". One young lady was laughing so hard at the end of the night, she was crying. Something's got to change when you sit down with your teacher and smash burritos. Racial lines were blurred, rice and beans were flying, and I was connected with my students. I can only hope that a little carbo loading and giggling will some day change the world.

PS: Mr. Pete went. He is the best husband in the whole wide world.

The next reality show: massage school

Mr. Pete won some plastic back massager thing from this healthy competition at work. They get points for relaxing and eating fruits and stuff like that. He was really excited because in his engineer mind, this was going to add leverage to my sucky back rubbing skills. He had a particularly stressful day so he thought last night was the perfect time to try it out. I gave it the ol' college try and I could tell from his response that it wasn't very effective. We give reciprocal back rubs at our house. You give one, you git one. So when it was my turn, Mr. Pete said he would imitate my technique so I could get the full benefit of my own skills. He prefaced the whole thing with "But I won't rub the hard plastic part up and down your spine the whole time 'cause that might be painful." Point taken.