Pushing the Envelope...again

Being cutting edge is attached to a lot of anxiety-making behaviour.  Tomorrow I stand in front of my peers presenting my views on strategies for getting your staff to engage students thru technology.  People are constantly surprised that this is what a teacher-librarian does. This is what I'm presenting:

Adventures in leadership thru technology

Also this week I wrote a Guest Blog on the Canadian Education Association website.

My good friend D was over and I was wowing him with my new toy the Livescribe Pen.  It's a pen, that makes a video recording of what you write, and an audio recording of what you say.  For people like me, who work really really hard to stay on top of the datasphere and emerging technologies, the Livescribe is a lovely way to enjoy the act of writing, and still digitize what I say.  I come up with new ways to use it in the classroom all the time.  This short 1 minute video is a Pencast (Livescribe recording) of what first popped into D's head when he saw it working.

Pencast Pluses with D

So what does it make you think of?

I wish this for my child

My son has been in formalized day care and school since he was 2 1/2. He was already reading then.  He came home the last week of school this year at the end of grade 1 and said "I hate reading".  I wish that he could direct his own learning, and choose to produce really great work.  The trick is that he'd be required to develop a relationship with a really great teacher who could adjust to his needs and to the needs of his classmates on a daily basis.  I wonder if we truly implemented the vision statement "that it takes a village to raise a child" if we couldn't pull this off.

Working in the library, I feel like I'm individually guiding the needs of every student and every teacher on a daily, minute-to-minute basis.  Why couldn't all the teachers of one grade collaborate on 8 projects that would hit all the curriculum outcomes for each student?  I absolutely loved the idea for the project where students are designing, building and then donating toys.  Phenomenal....hits the creative arts, math, science, social science and has real-world implications.  And its safe.  And I bet when those students see the impact they have that they'll be motivated to do it all over again for a new project.  It takes a huge amount of risk-taking to try this, but I think, if we don't that we, as teachers, could be obsolete sooner than later. 

Melancthon Mega-Quarry

As someone who has grown up in Dufferin County, and works there now, I have seen a great many changes happen to agriculture and the environment in the area.

I understand the dilemma of attracting new industry to the area, to build Dufferin County economically, and to provide feasible income strategies to the population already living there.  However, I have also seen the Dufferin’s agricultural land get swallowed up by mega-farms who are producing food for consumption on a global scale, sacrificing nutrition and health to increase production.  Increasing truck traffic to move food on this level to the Greater Toronto Area has diminished the integrity of our food, and this is obvious in every aspect of statistics in the health of Canadians.  Yet, to take away the very land that provides the GTA with food sources, doesn’t make sense either.

 It is common knowledge that a quarry decimates the land it uses, but the Melancthon area also houses numerous watersheds for water that feeds the areas beyond the township.  The watersheds are our greatest indicator to our environmental health  and already we have seen them suffer with the industrialization around them.  A quarry doesn’t simply tap resources and then move quietly away.  It decimates the area.  The transportation alone needed to export the stone out of the quarry will have a major impact on the roads, and the environment.  Even land that is near the quarry will suffer as a result.  After the quarry is depleted nothing but an ugly hole will remain.  Can the quarrying company be held accountable for a solution that has that much foresight?

I urge you to move cautiously forward on any plan to use valuable agricultural land for something as environmentally damaging as a quarry.  The 3 biggest impact areas are food, water and the environment.  Can the mega-quarry’s economic impact be worth so much?

To write your own comment and make it count, you can visit the Environmental Registry here.

Worm Food

I think I've got it all together, work, home, my impending first master's course and the play and then I fell off the stage.

A portent?

If you don't know me well, then you don't know that I'm not a sporty girl.  One of the main reasons that I'm not sporty is that I don't like pain.   And I'm one of those people who seems to attract projectile objects with my head.  I'm not joking.  So I avoid sports because I have great anxiety (not unfounded) about suffering some sort of pain as a result.

Taking you back to last rehearsal,  I've just launched myself off the stage.  I barely missed bashing my head, and instead save myself with my elbows.  I'm sitting there in my own misery trying not to cry, trying not to blame anyone, and completely shocked that I allowed this to happen.  Suddenly all the other lies I've been telling myself come tumbling down.   I realize that I'm not sleeping.  That I'm oscillating wildly between binging and starving.   There are only 2 weeks til the first show and this is how it begins....the anxiety moves from my elbows to my bowels and seizes my throat.  The panic begins in my brain and I can't think straight.  I can barely hold it together enough to remember how to get home. {Aside: I'm not exaggerating.  I was once in such a state after parent-teacher interviews that I couldn't remember how to back up the car, dinged it on two corners and then finally left it running in the middle of the parking garage and went to get Tim.}  I remember that it is this anxiety that has prevented me from acting for the last 20 years and I am suddenly regretting ever beginning it in the first place.

I went home and iced it, took 2 Advil and lay down.  The next day I showed to a few people, and their reaction was awe.  It seems that my new bruise means that I'm cooler, that I'm taking a risk that few people would dare to try.  So now it's my badge of honour:  I got that bruise being on stage, not being behind the stage for the first time in 20 years.

Hope to see you there.

Opting for Fake Flowers

My dear friend P came by for a visit today with her scrappin' toys and taught me all about fake flowers.  I love her so much for making the trip that I even cleaned for her, and made her a cake. Honestly, I thought of cancelling a few times this week.  Painting to be done, a self-pity sniffle, laundry, shopping, it was all almost the priority.

And in other corners of the house, I have planted my first seeds in hopes that someday the snow will end and I will be able to plant again.  My retired neighbour has already swept her lawn, edged her beds and pruned hedges.  I just had a nap.

I have painted the house top to bottom, gotten a part in Mamma Mia, earned a spot in the Canada-wide education summit Unplug'd in August, been granted admission to the Masters in Ed program I wanted, and still it's just not enough.  I even have a new pair of red shoes.  I've often thought of February as the long, dark, teatime of the soul....but April?  This is just ridiculous.

So I owed myself today.  A day to play with our cool stuff making fake flowers, while none will grow outside.

three fake flowers

Breaking the Archetype

I'm going through something, dear readers.  I don't know what it is but if I could draw a picture of myself, it would be like suddenly noticing that I'm developing another limb that has superpowers.  Oh yeah, and I had another birthday.  Birthdays always seem to root out the revolution in me.

This week, my dear friend K lost her husband who was just 44 years old, sudden heart attack brought on, probably, by the stress of trying to recover from a serious fracture incurred during a ski accident 2 weeks earlier.  Totally freakish.  17 years of marriage over in an instant.  At first I just watched her in shock at the threshold of grieving, and she was just so beautiful oscillating between emotions.  And part of me is envious because she gets to start over and recreate herself all over again.  The same way that I'm envious of Libya and Egypt. It's going to take such work to get through this period of time, but I fundamentally believe that K and Libya and Egypt will morph into something better.

I feel like I've spent the last decade devoting myself to procreation, which has literally sapped my energy to the core.  I said out loud that I regret the whole thing.  Of course, I turn to my right and see my Max, who just gets more interesting and lovable every day, and immediately regret that.  A wise man, who I live with, pointed out (perhaps with a touch of envy himself) that I'm emerging from a whole decade of learning what it means to be a woman, that I have to try on the biology of motherhood, because my body dictates that.  I've learned that women can put themselves through hell and back trying to claim that identity.

I've never been one to play with dolls or dream of my wedding.  I do love to dabble in the domestic arts of sewing, scrapbooking, cooking, gardening and repainting the house.  I look lovely in dresses and lousy in jeans. I do hospital corners when I make the bed.  But the vacuum cleaner that resides in my home and I do not have a relationship.  I don't even think I've ever turned it on.    

A man, who I respect, asked politely how many children I have.  I told him one.  And there was a lingering look of questions then.  Whether it's paranoia or not, I think there's some truth that men (perhaps of a certain generation) expect that women will make children their priority.  As you know I've really really tried, but now I'm offended and I can't fully explain why.  How dare you assume that I want that for myself?  How dare you assume that I could have as many children as I want?  Why the hell are we talking about the status of my womb when I just want to talk about how your decisions are affecting my work environment?

A young woman on the radio called upon to represent her generation on International Woman's Day and she basically said that the day is now a misnomer.  That we don't need a women's day anymore because we're equal, it's a non-issue.  If we want to, we could just have a people's day.  It makes no difference if I tell her she's wrong because she's going to have to live through the next two decades of her life in order to understand how naive her statement is.  We are different, because our biology dictates that we are the child carriers and child bearers and the breastfeeders....to have that amount of energy go into pregnancy and childbirth and those first few months of symbiosis is uniquely feminine.

I miss it.

Is this what a mid-life crisis feels like?  I may be turning into a crone, because I've tried virgin, and mother and I'm not flexible enough to be a whore, and I don't think there are any more after that.  Somehow that is just not a satisfactory list of choices.  I wish I'd tried that whole doula thing while I had the chance.

So I'm breaking the motherhood archetype.  Don't ask me how, but I'm going to both be a fantastic parent, and a phenomenal educator.  I will politely decline the question next time I'm asked.

A message of hope

Some of my favourite people lately have been asking how I'm doing.  Some lovely women in my life suggested maybe we should plan a Red Tent day.  Apparently that's a girl day but with a twist.  You know I'm trying really hard to just move on.  I've read that formalizing a ceremony can help, but I'm not there yet.

Instead I'm applying this month to start my Master's in Education online through the University of Alberta.  That's huge for me because I've never wanted to keep going in my studies before and suddenly, as a teacher-librarian, I can't get enough and I want to read and research and write.  The program is unique in Canada as it has a teacher-librarian focus, and the advisors say on average it takes 4 years to complete.  I'd start in July this year.

I'm also going to audition next week for the first time in about 15 years.  The local community theatre group is doing "Mamma Mia" and I can't imagine a better time.  If you know Max, then you know that this was the first movie he memorized every word to, so it feels serendipitous that it should be the play they're doing this year.

Of course I'm terrified but I'm tired of being scared.  For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm putting the me part of me first.  I want to just go for it.  

Vacancy

The Guest



At one time
You appeared wanting me
With no pride
but no regret
I rejected you
Precisely
Securely
and I cried when you left.


You came again
Just a visit
I was ready for you this time
But you insisted on leaving
You played with the idea
Of staying
I feel that I almost had you convinced
But now you're gone
And I cried again.


I invite you to return
Officially
Bring your friends
I'll build a home here for you
And carry you to term.



I wrote this in 2003 right after my first miscarriage.  The difference is that I'm really wrestling this time with trying again.  It is so emotionally devestating.  I feel old and dried up and ready to give up.

On the other hand...
When I was little and at Sunday school, the minister in his Irish brogue, told me the tale about a man being stranded on an island and he prayed to be rescued.  A helicopter came by and said "Hey buddy, jump aboard". The man said "No thanks, God will save me." 

Is Isis the fertility clinic my helicopter?  Do I try again one more time?

On Tuesday I go for a BETA blood test (P will be happy about that) that's to make sure there's no pregnancy hormone still.  Then an internal ultrasound to make sure everything is gone and then a follow-up appointment with Dr. Jong.  He told me that miscarriages are really hard on him too but he tries to think of them as a positive sign that the pregnancy is possible.  Maybe it's a sign that I should reconsider.

Farewell to our little brown dog.

So to top off this hellbound week, we made the decision to have Freya, our dachshund, euthanized on Saturday.  We've actually been emotionally missing her since mid-July as she just came back from a pee break holding one foot up.  Then it became two and we thought she had injured the second by overcompensating for the first.  And then the injury switched feet and we knew something wasn't right.  The x-ray showed nothing obvious except some yucky bladderstones and a bladder infection which we treated for a month.  The next step was an MRI at the University of Guelph in the thousands of dollars.  Our wise vet said that there was no sense going for the MRI if we weren't going to go for the expensive surgery as a result.  Well after spending all our money moving to Elora this year, we didn't have the means or the will to do this.  We tried Prednisone, a drug that I've taken for my arthralgia, and it made an immediate difference for about 2 weeks and then she became a lump again.  We have literally been carrying her outside to the grass and helping her to get into position to pee, and then bringing her back inside again all summer long.  Finally, we tried some heavy pain killers this week, but they just put her in a trance.  She was forgetting to even indicate that she needed to go outside, and Tim found her on more than one occasion lying in a puddle of her own urine.  Finally, I knew I had to make the decision.  I think Tim knew it was coming long before I was ready to admit it, but we decided that her life was no longer of any quality.  Whether it was a spinal injury or a stroke or some kind of tumour pressing on nerves, we'll never know.

On Saturday morning, we dug up a flowering tree from our front yard, and dug a new bed for it in the backyard.  The procedure took all of 10 seconds.  I still can't believe how quickly it happened.  An IV was inserted into her paw and then she was given an overdose of anaesthetic.  Her heartbeat stopped without even a whimper.  Freya's body is buried under the hydrangea tree, with a blue Rose of Sharon and an autumn-blooming sedum. The September blooms will always remind me of her.

I miss her cuddly little personality and her strange Easter island begging stance.  I miss her greeting me at the door after a hard day and I miss taking her for walks. The time that we really began to depend on each other was when Tim was at teacher's college at Nipissing in North Bay.  I was living in an apartment with Freya in Erin and teaching English in Brampton.  Freya and I walked twice a day and cuddled all night.  After work, I would often Skype Tim, and whenever Freya heard his voice, she would start to cry and howl.  So adorable.  She has always had the same reaction to anyone in our clan...my parents or Tim's parents, anyone who has ever puppy-sat for us. 

Freya is Thor's wife...a very grand name for a very small dog...the reason we have the word Friday is that it's Freya's day.  Freya was a gift to my husband for his birthday right after our first miscarriage.  This week she will always remind me of my second.

Putting the Maternity Clothes away again

Yesterday during a routine ultrasound, at 8-ish weeks, I found out that I'm not carrying a baby....just a yolk sac.  My body thinks it is pregnant, and it kinda started out that way, but it isn't continuing.  The technician said that the ultrasound picture looks exactly the same way it did 3 weeks ago....just an empty circle that should have a zygote growing in it, but it doesn't.  So I'm experiencing what's called a "Missed Miscarriage".

The doctor says that 1 in every 5 pregnancies ends in a miscarriage.  Well this is my 4th and so far I'm batting 2 out of 4.  I'm to wait a week and see if my body takes care of itself by expelling the pregnancy remains.  I haven't started bleeding yet, my abdomen is still swollen and my breasts still hurt.  In 1 week, they'll give some drugs to induce the miscarriage, and if that doesn't work, then a D & C will be performed.  I'll do just about anything to avoid the D & C.  If that happens, I'll need to be knocked out first.

I had a miscarriage before Max, which started with bleeding.  Then my sore breasts started to leak milk.  I hope that doesn't happen again.  It took 3 weeks to do it myself, but it wasn't painful and it was really just like having a really long period.  If we get to the point where drugs are needed, it's usually much more abrupt and painful.  Sigh.

Hopefully Tim and I will try again around Christmas time.  That's our luckiest time because that's when we conceived Max.  So I'm putting away the maternity clothes and baby stuff to a closet I don't go in very often and trying to move on.  I'm reading a book called: "Unspeakable Losses: Understanding the Experience of Prenancy Loss, Miscarriage and Abortion".  It says:
  
"Perhaps the utter powerlessness implied by the loss of an unlived life is simply unacceptable.  It may be too great a reminder that despite all the modern-day medical miracles that have both extended the human life span beyond what was thinkable even a few generations ago and virtually assured the survival of even the tiniest premature baby -- despite all the control over life that we have gained -- death is our common destiny.  ....If you cannot name your experience you cannot have any real closure, and you end up with an emotional, psychological, spiritual dangling.  People carry enormous, unrecognized grief for decades." 

Blogging, knowing that I can write about these triumphs and failures, is really therapeutic and appeals to the extroverted introvert in me.  Perhaps in sharing my grief with you in a public but silent way, I'm able to know that you're there for me without overwhelming me. 

I feel foolish....foolish that I told everyone, because I now have to untell everyone. Lots of good friends and colleagues had started  giving me baby stuff and maternity wear. I am so sad because I had already started planning my time off alone with my new baby.  I have been able to walk Max to the school bus for the last two days and pick him up again and nothing gives me more joy.  I need to become independently wealthy so that I can stay home.  I'm living the dream today as I clean my house and finish preserving the vegetables in my garden.  I'm going to pretend to be a kept woman and nest.  And try to go back to work tomorrow.

It's Happening!

Well dear readers, it's happening.  I'm pregnant!  I could get really precise and tell you that it happened about day 17, July 30th, and that the last date of my period was July 14th, but I want to bore you with the gory details.  The predicted due date is: April 19th, 2010.  The amazing thing about this pregnancy is that I feel WHAM! pregnant....tired, bloated, swollen and extremely ecstatic.  So the year of the tiger roars on.....new job, new house, and new baby.  Fascinating.

So my thyroid is completely out of whack which has got my family doctor and endocrinologist wringing their hands....the fertility clinic doubled my dose back in June and hey, I'm pregnant, but now the level is dangerously close to moving from hypothyroid (underactive) to hyperthyroid (overactive).  So we're experimenting with dosage a bit.  My new pharmacist in Fergus is really wondering what the heck is going on when I came in for the 3rd time this week with a new prescription.  I'm so special!

What feels good?  Aquafit.  Only at 7 weeks-ish pregnant, I'm already finding that my tankini is turning me into a muffin top.  So I went shopping!  Big mistake....Thyme Maternity, I spent $210 on 5 items.  So I posted for help, and a dear reader told me about Smitten where I bought 12 more items of maternity for just $140.  Much much better....ok they're gently used, but who cares!  I don't want to get bored with my maternity wear, and I am wearing a lot of hats these days.  A girl has to look her best at all times!

So Max, almost 6 now, knows about this impending sibling.  He has informed me that it's going to be a brother.  I showed him my belly this morning and said "Hey Max, do you want to say good morning to your baby brother or sister?"  And he said, "Can I see him?  Is he upstairs?"  So we'll have to work on explaining the whole 9 months thing with wee Max.  Also, I need to prepare him for how noisy new babies can be....if he was upstairs, we'd probably know it!

August is the Sunday of Summer

Day 26 - Freaking out internally....Round 2 of Seraphene and it seems to be pushing things back even further.  Ovulated on day 16 this time.  I wish I wish I wish....will wishing make it true? Tick tick tick....can you hear it?  Just the crocodile in Peter Pan.

For the first time ever, I actually cancelled plans to stay home and attend appointments and make babies.  I seriously pissed off a bunch of people.  I guess that means I've officially crossed over from concerned to obsessive-compulsive about having a 2nd child.  Oh they smell so good!  I was playing with my cousin's son Aidan yesterday.  He's just divine.  And every fibre of my being goes berserk whenever small children come around.

My favourite thing (NOT) is when people tell me that if I just relax, then it will happen.  I'm stressed out just thinking about whether or not I'm losing my mind!  Tim is being very good about the whole thing and hasn't once commented on the fact that I have a project on the go in every room of the house and none of them are  finished yet.  He's never once complained about the fact that I can't just make a batch of muffins....I have to make 4 batches at once.  We are swimming in raisin bran muffins right now.  I think he gets that keeping ridiculously busy helps me to not think about other things like babies.  Except that now there are only 12 days left in the summer before I go back to work and the house is a disaster.  It is unpacked, it is partially painted but the projects must come to an end.  Back to school...August truly is the Sunday of the summer.

 

Round 2

So defeat came on day 27...the visit from Aunt Martha was 5 days earlier than my cycle sans Seraphene, but I was sooo psyched up about those 2 eggs that I was really devestated this time.  Some months are much harder than others, and as usual, it's because of my level of expectation.  The more hopeful I am, the more depressed I am afterwards.  I drank a lot and gardened a lot but I'm still feeling worn out by this journey.  I'm already well into the next cycle and Tim and I will need to get on it this week, but right now I'd rather curl up in the cold cellar than get with my man.  It's hard to feel sexy when you feel inadequate.

Somehow I need to get out of this funk before the ovulation window.  Hopefully my hormones will kick in.  

Dropped a couple of eggs

Well the school year has come to an end and I am no longer JUST a teacher.  I'm officially the teacher-librarian of ODSS.  Crazy.  I'll admit there were some pretty strong emotions in teaching my last drama and media arts classes but I'm already discovering a new energy for my own creative outlets.  (more on that as they develop)

We also moved into our new house in Elora, so if you've missed the regular blogging....I apologize.  I'm on the summer track now, so I'm hoping to get back on track.

Today's visit to the Mississauga ISIS clinic meant that I, on day 17, was hoping that I had ovulated.  It's my first cycle on Seraphene and it's supposed to help me ovulate earlier and prolong the luteal phase.  I was consistently ovulating each month a single egg but on day 21 so my doctor's theory is that even if I'm conceiving, the phase between ovulation and implantation isn't long enough.  If that luteal phase isn't long enough then the lining can't become lush enough for implantation.

So now on the Seraphene, I  had 6 follicles growing at once!  Unbelievable!  2 of them reached maturity and I dropped those eggs sometime in the last 24 hours.  I think it was about 4 a.m. last night because I woke up with sharp pains and lots of pressure. So I'm hopeful....which is such a nice place to be.

Double Thyroid - Woo hoo!

When I was pregnant with Max, my hair was lush and full, my skin was moist and I glowed. Then when Max was born, my thyroid level plummeted and my lovely skin and hair were gone.

Dr. Jong, at the fertility clinic, says my thyroid level is at the highest end of normal so has doubled my dosage. Side effects include a feeling of invincibility (similar to when I was on Prednisone), my eczema is completely cleared up, my hair is radiant, and right now I have mood and energy highs and lows. On the high days I have the strength of 10 men and on the low days I have trouble lifting my spoon to my mouth.

Things are becoming more balanced every day but it is is a true trip.

A new follicle

Day 15 - today, I'm up at 5:30 a.m.  Again.  I need to be in Mississauga for  7 a.m. for another ultrasound and bloodwork and teaching by 8:30.  The clinic doctor has been tracking a little ovarian follicle for 2 days now....it's my beacon of shining hope right now. I am so so tired. 

On Friday night, I attended P's Passion Party.  Having never been to one of these before, it was eye-opening and I felt extremely normal suddenly.  Perhaps it was the bucket of margaritas, but I think it had more to do with the room full of strange, happy women talking about sex for 4 hours.  Anyway, Tim is going to be a very happy man.  I still live in hope that I can be light about this fertility process when/if the going gets tough.  I think anything that glows-in-the-dark and vibrates is good for a laugh!

 Yesterday was my coming out party at work.  My dear colleague L and I had been preparing a presentation for the staff on Learn360, the OERB and Wikispaces.  We had Oprah, pugs, music, and lots of intellectual stimulation.  We were, of course, phenomenal but the response was underwhelming.  Anyway, I think I've been talked off the ledge again, but it was disheartening to not have more enthusiasm and feedback given to the fun stuff we were showing.  I guess the proof will be in the pudding....if more teachers stop by the library with ideas for collaborating then I'll be happy again. 

It's probably because it's May but I feel like packing. Packing up school, packing up relationships, I feel like I need a vacation. It's a good thing we get our new house on the 21st. I'm dreaming about stone walls, new plants, veggie plots and also....blogging and wikispaces.  I'm a complex dude.

The investigative cycle begins

And I know not everyone can say that!

I completely bizarre week where I was actually in my school 2 1/2 days this week.  Professional Activities were keeping me active mostly but I took Wednesday to have the first round of invesitgation done.  First they took 16 vials of blood....they said they don't have to do this every time, and I said "Good because I suddenly need a doughnut."  I had to drink a full litre of water before driving down to the clinic so I was pretty uncomfortable at this point.  Then they did an outie ultrasound with my full bladder, uncomfortable to say the least.  Then they did the innie ultrasound....as professional as this was, there's just no way to say what this feels like.  I left feeling like a cat who had been stroked backwards.  Now here comes the amazing part.  I waited all of 15 minutes for my results on the ultrasound and spoke to a doctor who says everything looks NORMAL!  Celebration time come on!  No calls about my bloodwork says that they're all normal too.

So far OHIP has covered everything.  This coming week I have to take Wednesday off again for a Saline Sonohysterogram....they're putting a saline solution into my uterus for a different kind of specialized ultrasound.  Then Thursday morning before school I have to get another ultrasound and some more bloodwork.  I will repeat this for the next week.  They're trying to figure out when I actually ovulate. 

On Friday, Tim is going to drive me down for 7:15 a.m. to Credit Valley hospital for the HSG - a dye test where they put a blue dye through my whole reproductive system to check for any blockages.  That sounds pretty yummy, doesn't it?  So by the end of this cycle they're going to have lots more information about what could be preventing us from conceiving.

Aren't you glad I'm not posting any pictures?

the Media curve

LEAD Workshop on Prezi

Dr. Lipton's Prezi on social media....possibly life-altering in its complexity and optimism.

I spent all of yesterday working with my dear partner M who is really my lab rat for evil ideas.  I dream it up and she makes it happen while I observe and dream it up and then she makes it happen again.  It's an excellent working relationship and I think I'm really benefiting from it.

This year we've had access to our document camera (affectionately known as ELMO) and a SmartBoard.  Since M rejected the SmartBoard as clunky and in-the-way-most-of-the-time, I have adopted it into the library.  One of my first big goals as T-L is to make the library more of a Learning Commons (Carol Koechlin (one of CK's books).   I think that means I'm going to be spending a lot more time online.

If you have the opportunity, you can read up on Dr. Lipton and Carol Koechlin.  Then you'll have an idea what's going on in the 1/3 of my brain devoted to work (another 1/3rd goes to food, and another 1/3 goes to procreation).  Now that I've been notified that my mother is reading my blog I'm attempting to clean up my language a bit.  I can't help it....the Watson part of me wants to be all biological, and the Webb side of me wants to swear like a trucker and have a beer. 

"Did you know dolphins are just gay sharks?" ~ Brittany on April 13th episode of Glee

I went to hear Dr. Mark Lipton (http://www.marklipton.ca) speak about social media and education and it was liberating.  I suddenly want to go to university again!  He has combined his passion of media with a previous career as an elementary educator and he's trying to persuade the education system to get on board with media literacy.  There were many new gems I gained from his workshop but one that resonated was that we should stop being protectionist in our philosophy, and start being investigative.  Of course, the block I'm getting from my graduating students is that online coursework is dull and difficult.  I think that this line of resistance to our class wikispaces is because of 2 main reasons: a) they don't like the fact that adults are in their hangout space....the internet, and b) it makes them really accountable for their work and thoughts. Apparently, about 50% of all post-secondary credits are now earned online. 

I've just earned this title at school: Directions Team Head of Digital and Information Literacies.  What a mouthful.  I'll have to come up with a way cooler acronym than DTHDIL...which is unpronouncable.  Basically it means that technology and library are now to be part of every high school course so I need to engage teachers, students and parents through library services.  I'm excited and terrified.  I'll be full-time librarian in September and I have to tell you, I don't think the shine will wear off too quickly.  In midterm report week, the light at the end of the tunnel is that I may never have to do this again! 

I love the series Glee, which restarted for season 2 yesterday.  I'm not a hard sell on the musical genre anyway, but then combine it with a satirical approach to high school and I'm invested!  I know it's not for everyone.  In fact, that's kind of how it feels to try to sell technology and research at school...like I'm trying to get a bunch of Discovery Channel-watchers to convert to Glee. The inner child part of me that used to:

• hide in the closet reading Judy Blume
• finished a novel each Saturday morning in bed 
• played library stamping cards for books, instead of with Barbies

is so so happy. As someone who now still spends every waking moment absorbing online, print, video and audio material, I think I'm up to the challenge.

Truckin' and Scrappin' with the Lord

We have a house!  We squeaked in a mortgage just under 4% and had the inspection done too.  We've booked the moving truck for 2 dates: Saturday, May 22nd and Monday, June 21.  A nice gradual move. 

I'm a lady juggler with a lot of balls in the air.  Why would anyone want to start fertility monitoring and move house all in the same season?  Self sabotage, most likely.  Sometimes I think I push myself right to the brink of what I can handle just to see if I can do it.

Last evening Tim and I had a very weird night (almost as weird as the 416-er, wine cellar leads to bar fight leads to big female kiss wedding, but that's another story).  We began meeting our good friends R & R for sushi before heading over to Theatre Orangeville's opening night of "18 Wheels", a musical about truckers.  I shit you not.

You already know that I'm a musical lover but this really stretched the boundaries of taste. Act 1: We meet 3 truckers who love what they do and hate what they do, like most of us, and Sandy the waitress who waits in a truck stop in Mount Forest.  They sing about how much they look forward to seeing her, there's a nice little song about haulin' chicken guts in August. Insert pathos: they launch into a dark and dreary song about almost dying on the highway 400 in a snowstorm but instead only killing 12 people.   I shit you not. 

The breaking point arrived when the cast launched into singing about "Jesus riding shotgun" and the sold out audience of blue hairs and Far Side ladies started clapping along like it was a revival meeting.  I had this feeling like I can't believe this theatre is reality and I'm in it.  Like an existential and nightmarish moment all at once.  We left at intermission. 

In my defense, I was given the tickets for free as a way to encourage school trips to the theatre and R did say that she had seen it in Toronto and it wasn't too bad.  But besides the fact that the main character was played by the theatre director's wife (again), let's just say they Orangeville-d the script up a might too much.

So afterwards we consumed copious amounts of alcohol and laughed a lot.  Max had his first sleepover last night at Auntie Tracey's with his cousins.  I wonder if that's why I couldn't sleep in. Today I'm going to get my gardening wiggles out (since I'm 'tween homes) by scrapbooking!  I packed myself one giant portable (well, portable if I had a sherpa) kit full of scrappin' goodies.  Now if I can just resist the Michaels store, I might be able to afford furniture for the new place.  Why does retail therapy feel so good?