Don't laugh -- discipline for toddlers.

So as you know if you're a regular, it's not all milk and honey or wine and roses or whatever with a toddler. It's pretty awesome, don't get me wrong, but Zadie's on the challenging side, too.

Anyway, Sweetie and I don't believe in spanking (nothing against you if you do, but we don't), and several other things we've tried with Zadie don't work very well. Time-outs, in various forms, have done little. Talking does little. Removing her from situations does little. There's nothing we could take away that she cares about. It's just hard to figure out how to get her to stop doing the really bad stuff, like hitting, pushing, and running into the street and not stopping when I call her. Frankly, there's lots of stuff she does that's annoying, like making big messes with the shreds from the shredder, but I don't care so much about that -- she's two, and two-year olds are designed to explore their world.

Anyway, I got a recommendation for a book called "Positive Discipline for Preschoolers." I'm going to present the "cons" of it first.

First of all, I feel really insulted in parts. Like, there's a model Q&A thing about a kid who is hitting. The answer isn't "Here's what to do when your kid hits" but rather "Where is your kid getting the idea? Do you let him watch too much TV? Do you hit?" Uh, NO! She watches some TV, sure, which she probably shouldn't, but it's along the lines of "Mama Mirabelle" -- certainly not violent TV. And we don't hit, even in jest. So, you know, fuck your judgment.

And also, the idea seems to be that there are no consequences other than natural consequences. Like, first you have to recognize the difference between actual misbehavior and just exploring -- cutting your own bangs is just exploring. Okay, I can deal with that. But then let's say the kid hits -- if he hits YOU, you wordlessly leave the room. No time-out for him, no lectures, no nothing. If he hits another kid -- well, I'm still not sure WHAT you do. One example was a fight between kids, where you suggest that perhaps they might both want to go cool off somewhere until they feel better. So I'm still not sure what to do, honestly. Today we were at BounceTown and Zadie went over to a video game machine (which she doesn't even know what it is) and another kid was standing in front of it. She pushed him. We left. I don't know what the book would have suggested. It is, quite frankly, a little low on suggestions. It's all about prevention, not what happens when kids do act out.

On the other hand, a lot of it is really sensible and really appeals to me. It's stuff I agree with, but nevertheless sometimes forget to do, and if I could be more intentional about it, I think I'd be a better parent.

For example, it encourages you to let the kid know they play an important part in the family by involving them in stuff. I've had Zadie help make several choices about what order we would do things in, help count out the number of garlic cloves we needed, etc. It also says that if kids make messes, intentionally or not, they should help pick them up, even if it's easier and faster for us to do it. Zadie has cleaned the coffee and the smoothie she spilled, picked up toys and books, and helped put things away that she got out. She's been totally on board with it, too.

It also recommends not doing things for them that they could do. I asked her to clean her face and hands, put on her own coat and shoes, and a few other things. She got her shoes on the wrong feet, but big deal.

It also recommends giving limited choices, which sometimes I forget to do, but t works really well with her. Zadie doesn't like transitions, especially if it involves leaving someplace where she's having fun. We were in Borders tonight and it was getting late. I asked her if she'd like to hold my hand and walk to the register or be carried. She chose to walk and didn't throw a fit about leaving.

Some of the suggestions that I think are good ones are hard. I try not to, but I totally use guilt, nagging and shaming. "Gosh, we had to leave the park because you hit. I sure liked being at the park, and I know you do, too. Now I'm sad because we have to go." The book would say just go and don't talk about it. You can bring it up later by asking questions like "How did you feel when we left the park? What could you have done differently?"

Even some things like making sure you're talking to her at her eye level, using a pleasant tone, respecting your kid's temperament, and establishing routines seem common sense, but I do forget them sometimes.

I've been implementing parts of it here and there, although it's hard to remember it all at once, and frankly, with the exception of today's pushing, she has been a real delight to be with.

Anyway, I'm not quite through the book, and I'm not completely drinking the Kool-Aid, but there are some really good suggestions in there. After I'm done reading it through, I'll probably go back and make a Cliff's Notes version for Sweetie (mainly because summarizing is a proven learning tool for me).

Something for everyone.

For people who like little girls in tutus dancing the hula.


For those who enjoy smart kids engaged in creative play. (Of special interest to auntie Maryam, who got her this toy.)


And finally, for those of you who enjoy base comedy.

Happy and Cute

Happy and Cute
Originally uploaded by Harry Hugel

As you can tell, someone else took this photo. I was looking for pictures of us on Flickr, and there this was!

Birthday and bike ride

If one is allotted only a fixed number of perfect weekends in life, you may tick off one of mine.

Apparently, Zadie got all her evil out on Friday with Grandma, because on Friday evening she was a love. We walked around the block, talked to some neighbors, and then I made her birthday cake while she watched some Yo Gabba Gabba.

On Saturday morning, I made eggs for breakfast, and then we did our usual cleaning. Then we packed the car with gifts and party supplies and picked up our sandwich and fruit trays and a few other incidentals. And then we headed to Grandma and Boompah's. They were awesome enough to let us use their house for the party, which meant we got to invite my whole local family instead of just a few people. Jenny got there with a carrier full of awesome cupcakes, and we did a few last-minute items. I had written on the invitation that the party was from 12-2, and at 12 on the dot, about twenty people walked in!

Zadie schmoozed with everyone and especially enjoyed playing with her cousin (okay, second cousin once removed) Bethany.


She had been plotting for weeks to push her cousin (see above) Grant, and we warned Grant's mom about it, so she mostly kept him out of Zadie's line of sight. But when they actually did get close for a minute, she was okay. She did refuse a hug, but otherwise was fine.

We had sandwiches and fruit (and a shout-out to Raley's for having fresh, nicely displayed, reasonably priced stuff), and then we opened presents. There were approximately four-thousand of them, including the coolest toys and cutest clothes I've ever seen.


I don't know why I'm cracking up here.


Then we all had cake or cupcakes. We sang Happy Birthday, and she was so excited to blow out the candles that she did it early. And at about 1:59, everyone said goodbye!
(I'll find more pictures of the cupcakes and cake, but I have to steal them from Jenny.)

In the evening, she insisted on wearing her leotard and ballet slippers, including while she napped. We had some pasta and a quiet evening. She slept in her new sleeping bag (but not in the tent).


This morning we dragged out her birthday celebration still further by opening all the presents from our Oregon/Washington family. She especially liked her new wooden food cutting set. She told me right away that she was the mommy and she was making pizza for dinner.


I made cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and they were insanely delicious. Then we got ready for our tweed ride. Zadie wore her new vintage dress.


We rode to the Bike Kitchen, where a few people were gathered, and within an hour, the place was flooded with people. Ground Chuck had made a nice drawing for the event.

Zadie was being very social, and she cracked me up by unintentionally "photobombing" several people's pictures. But many people also took pictures of her on purpose, and commented on how cute she was. When the organizer made his announcements about the route, she was shrieking, and I kept trying to quiet her down. I ended up singing to her ("You are my sunshine"), and just after, someone told me what a good mom I was, which I thought was really sweet. I ran into several people I knew, including a current co-worker and and old co-worker.

Finally, we began to ride. We went a short distance to the state Capitol, and on the way, people were lined up on the streets watching us. We rang our bells and honked our horns, and at the Capitol we took a big group picture. Then it was off towards Old Sac.


We went up to the bike trail and had a lovely ride overlooking the water and boats and wildflowers. Of course, by that point, Zadie was conked out.

Finally, we reached Land Park, where we had a picnic. Jenny met us, and brought iced tea and mustard for our sandwiches, as well as plates, napkins, and cups (which I, of course, had forgotten).


Then we frolicked a little.


Someone was so charmed by my punkin' that she made Zadie a daisy chain.


And finally, we went to the Shady Lady for drinks. I opted not to have one, and my co-worker said he was going to leave, and would be happy to ride me home, so I gladly accepted.
(Zadie at the Shady Lady.)

He ended up stopping at Hot Italian just a few blocks away, so Zadie and I rode the rest of the way ourselves.

It was perfect weather for a ride, and she was sweet and kind the whole time. She even was good around the other kids (although believe you me, I was watching and hovering). And she's been pretty nice tonight, too, with one exception. She hit me, and I put her down off my lap and told her I didn't want to hang out with her if she was hurting me. A few minutes later, she crawled back up and whacked me again, really hard. I tried to put her on the floor again, but she was clinging and climbing, so finally I said "Okay, you stay here then, and Mama is going to go away so you don't hurt me." I went into my bedroom and closed the door. There were then SERIOUS tears and freaking out. I heard Sweetie talking to her, and when he elicited a promise from her that she wouldn't hit me anymore, I came out. She told me she wouldn't hit me and that she was sorry, and she didn't like it when Mommy went away. I don't know if it'll have any bearing on the future, but it's working for now.

We had Dos Coyotes for dinner and have been blowing bubbles and playing in her tent, and she is now playing hide and seek with her daddy. A little while ago she told me "I'm so happy to be blowing bubbles!"

I'll leave you with one of my favorite pictures from this morning:

Zadie's happy birthday

Well, we started out the day with a waffle, then she went to Grandma's for second breakfast, bacon and eggs. Grandma took her to the zoo, then to McDonald's for her first Happy Meal, then to Fairy Tale Town. Whoa, what a day!

At our house, we had the dinner she had requested, macaroni and cheese. Jenny came over and we opened one present, her tool kit!



After that, we went to go get frozen yogurt. It was a very lovely day and she was sweet and delightful.

She is currently using her eco-friendly-plastic pliers on her wooden sushi.

Thank you for all the birthday wishes by phone, email, Facebook, etc.

Happy birthday, Zadie

Azadeh was due on March 21, 2008. I was huge, and heavy, and I already had several signs of impending labor, so when she hadn't arrived on March 14th, I felt lucky that I had been able to work as long as I'd planned. I was sure she would come early, but on the 21st, I was still hugely pregnant. Jenny came over for dinner, and afterwards we took a long walk, having heard that walks often induced labor. We walked from my house to a restaurant called Gonul's, had a terrible dessert (and apologetic service), then walked home. We stopped to rest at the fountain in the middle of M street. It was a lovely night.

The next evening, I started to feel as if labor was, in fact, impending. I had a lot of tension in my back, downward pressure in my pelvis, and a general feeling of expectancy and calm. My friend Erinn visited and dropped off some presents, and I was sure she would be the last visitor before labor started. That night, in fact, my water broke. I waited to make sure I was right, called labor and delivery, and at about 5 am, shook Sweetie gently and asked him to toast me a bagel before we left for the hospital. He was groggy and confused.

We went to the hospital, where the midwife was also groggy and confused. Without doing any tests to see if my water had broken, she determined it hadn't and sent me home. It was Easter Sunday, and I went home and slept, then went to a movie with Mom (Paranoid Park), and then we had dinner at Cafe Bernardo's R15 location. I remember that there was a couple there with a young child and they asked when I was due. I laughed and announced that I was two days overdue.

That night I felt the same things I had felt the night before, but dismissed them, thinking that the midwife was right.

The morning of the 24th, I went to 33rd Street Bistro for breakfast. I did a few things around the house, and then I had a doctor's appointment. Mom had insisted on driving me, just in case I had to go to the hospital immediately from there. I happily accepted the company and the ride, although neither of us really expected that's what would happen.

But it did! My doctor did the ferning test that the midwife had neglected and informed me that I had, in fact, been losing amniotic fluid for something like 40 hours. I had to go deliver Zadie right away.

Mom hadn't brought her sweater for the hospital, so we stopped by her house, then picked up Sweetie from home, then called Jenny, and headed for Kaiser in South Sacramento.

I don't like to talk about all the bad stuff that happened, because it was not a lovely birth experience. There was yelling and rushing and intervention and nothing went as planned and my "birth plan" turned out to be useless... But then there was Azadeh! And she was beautiful! And she was perfect! And she was this giant chunk of love just breathing and crying and ninja-kicking...

It was Tuesday, March 25th at just after 3 am. She couldn't breathe and we couldn't hold her and she was covered in tubes and we could only peer at her from over the sides of the little Plexiglass crib and we stared at the blinking lights and the rising and falling numbers and watched her little pouty lips and tried to determine whose nose it was and it was horrible and wonderful and lovely and everything.

Happy birthday Azadeh Finn, my little Zadie, my little Peapod, my little punkin' muffin.

Shortly after we brought her home


A few days before her 1st birthday.


A few days ago.

I said god damn... the pusher

We've been working on curbing the little one's violence, and in particular, pushing. The current method is that whatever fun thing we are doing, we stop and leave the second she pushes.

Apparently, Mom spent most of yesterday morning preparing Zadie for their outing to ArtBeast, and reminding her that we can't push, we have to share, we'll leave right away if she pushes... They talked about it at length, and several times. On the way over in the car, Mom even promised her a cookie if she didn't push anyone. Zadie thought about it... "What kind of cookie?" Eventually, she elicited a promise: "I will not push."

Finally, they walked in the doors. Zadie looked gleefully at the two employees behind the counter and announced "I'm going to push a baby!"

You'll be happy to know that no babies were pushed in the making of this blog post (although she did apparently wander around muttering about people being in her area).

Vintage panic!

Okay, I'm going on a tweed ride next week and I'm super-excited. Now, I'm not a Victorian-type girl -- my favorite vintage clothes are from the 40s through the 70s, and I have some pretty serious love for early 60s day dresses. Nevertheless, I figured I'd have something I could wear. I settled in my head on a 40s dress in muted tones that I have a great hat to match. Still, I dinked around online to see if I could find some plus fours and a ruffly Victorian-ish shirt. I didn't find much I loved, but I still thought I'd look around in some stores.

I started at the 57th street antique mall. I found something great for Zadie, and I found something I liked as well, but my shoulders were far too broad for it.

I went to Nordstrom rack in the afternoon, and they had a TON of stuff that would work for the ride. Unfortunately, many of the items were in the $40 or more range and many more looked quite warm. Given that it's mid-70-degree weather here, I don't particularly see myself riding my bike several miles in wool trousers and long sleeves. I'm sure some people will, but I'm not into it. Also, I'm not against spending $40 on a nice shirt, but not when I have a 50-lb weight loss goal. I'm not going to spend fat money on a shirt that will be baggy in a few months (one hopes).

Anyway, I looked at Target as well, and I didn't find anything there, either. I had pretty much decided on the 40s dress -- not exactly perfect for the era, but I'd pass. I got it out tonight to try it on and see if it needed to be washed. And it doesn't fit!! I could have sworn it was one of my bigger dresses, but it's apparently not.

So now I have to figure out what I'm going to wear. I might go back to the Rack, as there was a pretty cute skirt there that wasn't very expensive, and I could probably get away with a plainer white shirt if I dressed it up with a scarf I'm thinking of. I could also go to Goodwill and get a vest, which would disguise a plain shirt even more. So all is not lost. But I am bummed that my dress didn't fit. Ah well... all in good time, I guess. I am still losing weight steadily, despite not keeping very good track this week. I figured it was cool to have a cheeseburger after hiking 7 miles. I was right.

Musical medley.

Zadie cracked me up today. We were walking up and down the block and talking about the flowers, and I said "When I was young, I didn't like azaleas, but I like them now." She said "When I was young, I liked azaleas." And then she added, "I'm young and you're old."

This video is a bit longer than usual, but you should watch until the end (or at least skip to the end).

A couple Zadie funnies

We were on the beach and I picked up a crab shell to show her. She asked where the crab was. I said that he was gone, and that a bird probably ate the meat and left the shell. She replied, "And he said, 'don't eat my meat!'"



Today on a walk around the block, she ran up on someone's lawn to smell the flowers. It's possible I misheard her, but I'm pretty sure she exclaimed "It's like candy for my nose!"

And finally, on the night at the hostel that she was keeping everyone awake, I dragged her and some blankets out to the van. I put her on the bench seat, thinking that she'd go to sleep there. Instead, she jumped up, climbed into the driver's seat, and started turning the lights on and off. "Zadie Finn!" I growled, "You knock that off!" She happily announced, "I'm driving! ... I'm driving you crazy!"


Incidentally, it almost sounds like I made that last one up. I swear I didn't. In fact, I was really cranky with her, but even I had to laugh.

The great Point Reyes adventure

I went on a field trip. I took Zadie. I am so tired I can't give you all the details right now, but...

I forgot my coffee, didn't pack her a water cup, failed to take a clean diaper into the restroom on our potty stop, and spilled her hot chocolate all over. There were no vegetarian options for lunch on either day, so I ate leftover breakfast muffins.

She told the kids "get out of my car! I don't want to share!" She also refused to put her shoes on, contributed to the hot cocoa disaster, whine all the way through the night hike because she wanted to be carried in my arms (not in the carrier), did her best to keep everyone up all night by talking and refusing to go to sleep (we ended up sleeping half the night in the van), and told me to eat her muffin then screamed at me for taking a bite.

On the up side, we visited several lovely locations and saw quail and deer (the kids saw whales, but we had stayed in the car while Zadie napped). We saw lots of wildflowers, including lovely purple irises. We walked on two beaches and she got to put her feet in the surf. She loved the students and they loved her back. The weather was ideal. No one got hurt or sunburned. She slept in the car on the way back and we made good time getting home.

I can't believe I have to work tomorrow.

I have about three more things to do tonight, and then I'm going to hit the hay.

Light-hearted Zadie post

My kid is cracking me up. First, she's been telling me she's a movie star. Whatever she does, she looks at me afterwards and says "What did the movie star do?" Then I have to narrate her actions. This evening, that included "Uh, the movie star tooted in the bathtub?"

She wanted to play with a little girl at the gym today, and the girl suggested they look for small toys to ride on the train. Zadie handed her a big baby doll, and the girl rejected it, saying it didn't fit. She put it back in the toy bin. Zadie walked away, but came back a few minutes later, and the girl had two small toys on the train. Zadie pointed accusingly at the toys and yelled "They don't fit!" The girl said "They DO fit!" And they went back and forth for a minute. "They don't fit!" "They do fit!"
I felt bad for her, because I knew she was hurt that her toy choice was rejected, but I had to stop the bitch-fight, too, before they threw down.

Also while at the gym, she was playing with three sisters. She announced "I'm chasing you!" (Which, incidentally, they misheard as "I'm Stacey," leading to a case of mistaken identity for about half an hour.) They dutifully ran and hid and ran some more. Because she's two and the main girls she was playing with were 4 and 6, they were faster and better at climbing, so they would go up the climbing gym, come back down another route, and hide in the corner all while Zadie was still on her way up the climbing gym. I had to grab Z to check her diaper, and the girls gathered around, saying "She's chasing us!" I said "I know, but she needs about two minutes here." They all gathered around to watch her get her diaper changed. When I found that it was dry, I asked if she wanted to use the potty. She nodded, so I took her to the potty (a few steps away, so the girls followed me, and I didn't have the heart to push them out and close the door in their faces). She went, and then we wiped and washed hands. The 6 year old said "Did she go?!" I said yes, and asked their youngest sister (a day older than Zadie) if she used the potty. She said the only thing I heard her say all day: "No."

This morning Zadie asked if I had an owie. As it happens, I do. I showed her a small cut on my thumb and asked if she would kiss it. She did, very sweetly. Then she asked "Do you want a band-aid?"

We picked up a pizza for dinner at La Trattoria Bohemia, and the hostess had on huge flower earrings. Zadie told her "I love your earrings!" The woman thanked her, and Zadie asked "Where did you get your earrings?" The woman answered that she had gotten them from a street vendor in Harlem. I had little to no part in the conversation. Zadie was just a little fashionista socialite.

That's about all I can remember right now, although frankly she's been kind of a laugh riot all weekend.

Newspapers

I love newspapers. For years, as the world has gone more digital, I have sworn and sworn again that I love my newspaper, and I don't know what I'd do without it. One of my greatest pleasures each week is sorting the Sunday paper, pulling out national news, local news, business, forum, comics, entertainment, the tabloid (and in my time receiving the paper, it's been several different ones), and often a few ads. My favorite columnists have come and gone. I've learned about community events, art openings, new books by favorite authors... I can't tell you how many mornings I've sat in the hammock on a Sunday with a cup of coffee, reading a section of the paper, then throwing it to the ground to become brittle in the sun.

And it's a long love affair. The first words I ever read aloud were from the back of the newspaper page my dad was reading. I pointed and said "That says 'Sacramento Gold.'" "It does," my mom said, "but how did YOU know that?" When I was younger my parents subscribed to both daily papers, the Union and the Bee. I remember feeling sadness at the Union's slow decline and its attempts to revive itself (the tabloid format, anyone?).

When I left home, despite being on a budget, I subscribed to the newspaper. I never considered it a luxury, but rather a necessity. I even worked at the local paper -- for several years, actually. Part of what made me good at customer service was that I really knew my product. Someone could reference an article or a writer, and I'd know just what they were talking about.

When I started dating Sweetie, one of the things that won my heart was early in our relationship -- I had brought the newspaper to his house on a Sunday morning, and while I slept in, he made my coffee and sorted my newspaper the way I like it.

Considering canceling my subscription weighs really heavily on my heart.

On February 28, columnist Marcos Breton called teachers unreasonable and inaccessible, accused us of standing our ground while having our heads buried in the sand, and he said we haven't "lifted a finger or sacrificed a dime."

Tuesday, March 9, the editorial was something like "hey, teachers have a really great health care package, and if they gutted it, they could save some jobs. Oh yeah, and they should also take furlough days and freeze their raises." The Bee, like the district, presents only two options: give stuff up or face layoffs. SCTA has offered other ways to save the money (that incidentally also give up stuff but don't reduce classroom time). That hasn't appeared in a single article. Not once.

On March 11, in a news article (theoretically free of bias, right?), the Bee wrote that Sacramento was vying for 30 "highly motivated" Teach for America teachers. Who, incidentally, would only cost $2.7 MILLION in addition to their salary and benefits.

Unsurprisingly, the same day they published an editorial saying "Sacramento should jump on the opportunity to add to its teaching pipeline a corps of top graduates who want to teach in the toughest schools." What am I, chopped liver? They quoted mayor KJ, saying "Research has shown that teacher quality is the single most important school-based variable that impacts student achievement." I guess un-credentialed kids with a two-year commitment are going to provide that quality.

Also on March 11, they published an article about how schools are using computer programs that allow parents access to grades and attendance records online. The quote they included from the teachers union president sounded incredibly negative, when, in fact, most teachers I know have no issues with the programs. The headline on the inside page where the story was continued to? "District: Teachers union complains."

I raised my blood pressure a bit by reading the online comments, and someone accused Breton of attacking teachers. He replied that he wasn't attacking teachers, just the union. But the union IS the teachers. I am being attacked in the newspaper -- and you know me, yo. You know how I fret over my students' achievement. You know the hours I put in. You know how much I honestly love these children.

But the Bee doesn't. The Bee calls me a greedy douchebag who would be better replaced by someone with no teacher training and no reason to stay more than two years. In fact, the Bee thinks we should put ourselves another $2.7 million in the hole for the privilege. The Bee thinks I'm a complainer who rails against innovation. The Bee thinks that because I voted to protect my health benefits INSTEAD of a raise a few years back, that I should give up my health benefits now.

I know canceling my subscription doesn't hurt them. Their money comes from the advertisers, and that's okay. I don't want newspapers to fail. But I'm not sure I can keep giving my money to one that hates me so much. Hates me for being dedicated to educating our city's children. When did teachers become villains?

Can we be reasonable about teachers?

The Bee published this editorial yesterday. It essentially says that our school district has a big budget crisis, that teacher salaries are the biggest part of the budget, and that we should a) pay more for our health coverage, b) take furlough days and c) freeze our raises for this year.

I read the comments and was quite surprised by the hyperbole coming from both sides. Some people argue that teachers are grossly underpaid, that there's some sort of "cap" of $45k on teacher salary, and that teachers work 10-12 hours a day, six days a week.

Others insist that teachers are among the most overpaid professions, that these "babysitters" routinely make $90k, and that we work 9 months a year, get all holidays off, and work only about 7 hours a day.

Naturally, as a teacher, I have some thoughts on this.

First, I DO think that many teachers are willing to help during this crisis. I've heard from many of them that they'd take salary freezes or higher co-pays to do their "fair share" for the state. However, the argument that the district and the Bee are putting forth is a pretty classic example of a false dilemma. They're saying that there are two choices: hurt the teachers, or hurt the kids (through ending class size reduction). Unless you're a complete douchebag, the choice is obvious. We have to hurt the teachers. But there aren't just two choices. The teachers' union has proposed several other cost-cutting or fund-raising measures that the district isn't responding to and the Bee isn't covering.

Why else isn't SCTA talking about negotiating on health care? Because it isn't time to renegotiate our contract. When it is, perhaps those things will be on the table.

As for furlough days -- heck, I'll take three days off, even if they're unpaid. But it's mandated that kids get a certain number of instructional minutes each year. How are we going to do that?

Now I know the Bee commenters aren't all going to run on over to my little old blog for a dose of the truth. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to inject some realistic numbers into this discussion.

On salary: The median salary in California for someone with a Master's degree (I would argue that a two-year teaching credential is equivalent) is $63,000. The median salary for a teacher in California is about $59,000. Less than average, true, but teachers do work only ten months a year. If you took that statewide median income and adjusted it to ten months of work, it's about $52,500. So in fact, we make a little more than the median.

But before you go on about how overpaid we are, that number doesn't take into account teachers who work summer school, who teach additional classes after or before school, who coach, who have all sorts of additional responsibilities and additional hours for which they are paid. If you had a part-time job in addition to your regular job, you'd make more, too.

It also doesn't take into account that teachers are notoriously overqualified. By this I mean, to actually become a teacher, you need only have a Bachelor's degree and a teaching credential. Using those numbers above, I was comparing a teaching credential (a two-year graduate degree) to a Master's (also usually a two-year graduate degree). But many, many teachers have degrees in excess of what they are required to have. So to compare a group of people with two or three graduate degrees to a group with one is not exactly a fair or accurate comparison.

Let me serve as a real-life example. I have both a credential and an M.A. I make just about $60,000 per year. So while I make more than some of my colleagues, I still, with TWO graduate degrees, make less than the median for someone with ONE.

All that said, I think it's a fair salary, especially when you also consider the benefit package, which is good. We have, in previous negotiations, traded higher salaries for better benefits.

On to the hours of the job. At my site, we are required to be there from 8 am to 3:30 pm. Lunch is about 40 minutes. That is, in fact, about a seven hour day.

I know some teachers work a lot more hours than I do and some a lot less. Here is what's typical for me: I get to school at about 7:40. That adds about 60 additional hours per year. I sometimes leave right at 3:30, but it's common for me to leave at 3:45 or 4. I'd estimate that I add another 36 hours a year that way. There are also staff meetings and professional development meetings I attend about twice a month, adding 20 or so hours. That doesn't include the 18 hours required by our contract, which I usually do in August. Once every six weeks or so, I chaperone an event for the kids, staying typically until 8 at night. Field trips are voluntary, but I chaperone a couple a year. I stay overnight for one or two nights, often on a weekend.

I regularly work through lunches, either using them to prepare or grade, or simply supervising students during club meetings. I do eat and often check email or look on the internet as well, but I usually spend at least some of my lunch time in work-related activities.

As for grading, that goes up and down a great deal. Some weeks I can get it all done during my prep time or after school. Other times, I'll bring work home. Last night I spent about an hour giving feedback and suggesting revisions on an important essay for a student. Later this Spring, I will see three drafts of 46 5-6 page essays. They take 10-15 minutes each to read, comment on, and edit. At a low estimate (10 minutes each), that's 230 hours I'll spend grading them*. It will take about six weeks, and I do most of the grading at night after my daughter has gone to bed and on the weekends. I do my best not to take work home, but I do grade essays at home several times a year.

I also read every book the kids are reading. It takes me about 15 minutes a night to keep up with what I'm asking of them, so over the course of a year, let's call that 67 hours.

It's not ten to twelve hours a day -- that's a gross exaggeration. But it isn't 7 hours a day, either.

Oh, and as to some of the other comments... no, we don't get paid for doing nothing all summer. We don't get paid at all for the summer, in fact. We CAN get a paycheck, but only by setting aside 1/6 of our regular pay and having the district give it to us in two checks over summer. It's not extra money and it's not pay for time off. It's like your "Santa savings" account -- you take your regular pay and set it aside for later.

I also read someone's comment that we get weekends off. Oh god, the horror! I can't believe one group of people only has to work five days a week! Who has ever heard of such nonsense! Ahem...

Also, we don't get vacation days. You can't, for example, take time off to attend a family reunion.

And finally, someone was talking about our "sweet pension." Perhaps they were confusing ours with the administrators'? I can't seem to find the documentation at the moment, but if I personally** retired after 30 years of teaching, I am pretty sure my multiplier would be something like 1.6. How that works is that they multiply that number by your years of service, and that's the percentage of your pay you get upon retirement. For me, that means, of course, about 48% of my pay.*** In addition, I don't pay into Social Security, so I'll never get that.

Like I said, I don't think this will change anyone's mind, but at least I got it out there, you know? Between extremes, sometimes the truth lies, and I hope this can serve as truth.

*I don't necessarily think that's typical. My grading time is increased by being an English teacher first of all and an IB teacher second.
**Frankly, it's kind of a penalty on me for starting young. If I didn't start teaching until I was 32, then retired at 62 after 30 years, my multiplier would be a lot higher. Or if I taught for 37 years, but fuck that noise.
***Don't worry about my retirement, though -- I have planned well for it by putting money into a 401k-type account, and we'll be okay.

Music notes

We've had a lot of fun at recent poker nights. Our friend Spencer has taken all our songs, put them into a playlist, and played them during poker. I am pretty sure I wrote about "Desert Island Disc" night, when we all guessed which each others' songs were.

Last Saturday was "I bet you think this song is about you" night, sort of. We were to choose songs that we thought were about us, or that were our theme songs.

Mine were biographical. I chose Everclear's "Wonderful" to start. Lines like "Promises mean everything when you're little and the world is so big" remind me so much of the thoughts I had when my parents got divorced. Now, of course, I realize it would have been a nightmare of monumental proportions for my parents to have stayed together, but then, sure, I thought "I just want my life to be the same, just like it used to be."

The second was a little silly -- it was about my own divorce. I chose Ben Folds Five's "Song for the Dumped." Most of the song doesn't actually apply -- there's a lot in there about being dumped, which I wasn't. But I love the chorus: "Give me my money back. Give me my money back, you bitch. I want my money back. And don't forget to give me back my black t-shirt."

And I decided to end it on a happy note, with a song that literally seems to come right from my life. Kimya Dawson wrote a whole album of kids' songs, and I chose "I love you sweet baby." From the green potty to the mashed avocados to the park down the street... the whole song sounds like our life, particularly when Z was a little smaller. At one point in the song, she is singing rapid-fire a list of the things they'll do today with the baby, and then she starts singing "You're an amazing human being." I usually get just a little teary right then.

Next game night, I've heard that the theme will be "guilty pleasures." I actually think this will be difficult for me, because as Sweetie noted, I'm not embarrassed or guilty about any of my musical choices. I think I'm going to have to consider what OTHER people THINK I should be ashamed of. In that case, I suspect the Spin Doctors will be on the next playlist. Whatever, shut up. "Two Princes" came on the radio today and I sang along. Loudly.

Let's see... what's going on around here?

For one, I ignored the advice of nearly everyone I spoke to and decided to become a site rep for our union. I am going to do my best to make sure it doesn't eat my life. I really felt like we needed another voice on our campus. I was raised to believe in unions and to understand why they're important, so it was disheartening to watch 125 people leave after every staff meeting rather than staying another 5-10 minutes for the union meeting. I don't know that I'll be able to change that culture at all, but in this economic climate and educational climate, people are starting to care about what the union can do for us, so I'm going to try to facilitate finding the answer.

Hey, did I mention I was trying Weight Watchers again? I've been sticking with it well, including amping up my exercise, and I've lost 15 pounds!* I recognize that I still have a long way to go, but I feel like this first 15 really shows... that I can see a noticeable change in my body. It's good news. My clothes fit better, too.

Zadie is great fun. She's slowly but surely potty training. Sometimes it doesn't feel like it's moving much, since she's still perfectly happy to utilize her diaper, but I was looking at her sticker chart, and she has gone in the potty 20 times in just a few weeks (and that doesn't count the times at Grandma's house). She has also been quite cuddly this weekend. That's rare, so I'm really enjoying it.

She is a very different child than I was, or than most of the kids I've known. Obviously she's smart and verbal, but she's also incredibly energetic and physical, and it's rather hard to discipline her, because there's not much she responds to without laughing. I've been doing a little reading to figure out ways to focus her energy a bit, and it's interesting to learn. One thing I tried today was giving her Play-Dough to squish while she sat at the song circle. She actually sat down for a couple songs (she normally runs non-stop while we're there).

I've been watching a show called "Faces of America" on PBS. It's fascinating -- they study your genealogy, trace your family, look up documents, DNA test you... and some of the results are astonishing. For example, Eva Longoria and Yo Yo Ma share a common ancestor. The poet Elizabeth Alexander is a direct descendant of Charlemagne. Malcolm Gladwell's Jamaican great-great... grandmother owned slaves although she, too, was black. Seriously, it's been fascinating. But now I want them to do me! Or rather, Zadie. My grandmother has done a brilliant job of tracing our family back to the 14th century, but only names and dates and cities. I want to have these documents, letters, signatures from Ellis Island, photos, wills, and distant cousins. And furthermore, I may be inspired enough to go and get them. I have in mind a book I could make for Zadie... you know, your father was born in Tehran... and pictures of Tehran. Your great-grandma lived in a dugout house that was eventually replaced by a building they bought that still had the sign on it from its previous life, "Fortune's Cafe." Your great-great grandmother was a mail-order bride. Your grandfather is an architect. I'd like to document for her the stories that make up her amazing history -- a history of hard work and immigration and many, many cultures. Let's see if I can get off my lazy butt and do it before she has her own kids...

We had a lovely weekend. Yesterday we cleaned the house a bit, then walked to the gym to play in the kids' play area. We then stopped by the co-op for lunch and came home. I made Whoopee pies, then put Z down for a nap and squeezed a shower in. Then all of us and Monkeygirl headed to our friends' house for poker night. They are absolutely the most welcoming hosts in the world. We worry that Zadie is getting into things, and our friend just says "It's okay... It's fine. I paid a dollar for those... It's no big deal." She bought foam blocks to keep at their house for Zadie, and when we visited last night, she had also bought alphabet magnets for Zadie to play with. But wait... she had bought two packs, just in case Zadie wanted to put her full name (Azadeh) on the fridge. And she had also bought Zadie her own pink plastic elephant cup for water. They're just so solicitous. I feel very lucky to have them as friends.

And then speaking of friends, yay for new friends as well! This morning I met C-Lo, a friend I've made on-line, for brunch! She was delightful, and I look forward to getting to know her better (and getting some fashion tips).

Then it was home for some hammock time and a nap, and then we triked up and down the street a bit before going to the song circle at McKinley park with Grandma. Then we picked up Chinese food and watched the Oscars at Grandma and Boompah's house, a long-standing tradition. They were a bit dull this year, but the dinner was good!

Whew! I think that's it. For now, anyway...

*Okay, yesterday after my exercise, I had lost 3 pounds as compared to last week's weigh-in. This morning, after gorging last night, I had gained a pound from last week. So I split the difference and put in that I had lost 1.5 pounds, which brought me to a total of 15 pounds lost. Hopefully it's sort of accurate.

It's still funny

to make the baby say stupid stuff.

Oh, it's 3 seconds. Just watch it.