Mom, what's for dinner?

It's Saturday, so if you're a teacher, you might have had a hearty, delicious dinner with your family.  I mean soccer season isn't in full swing, so you weren't at a field somewhere all day, right?  Not teaching has allowed me to reflect upon how poorly I plan for dinner.  You might think that after five children and a decade to become a working mom diva, I might be able to fix dinner regularly.  Alas...

Yet unemployment has also meant no excuses.  I can't say I have papers to grade, or that a needy parent had me on the phone after school.  There are no staff meetings (let me just pause and allow the bliss of that reality to wash over me like a cool, refreshing spring).  Therefore, when my two year old pipes up at 4:00 PM with "Mommy, what's fo dinnow?"  I should have an answer. 

For the past two weeks I've managed to compile a weekly menu for dinner.  Yes, Teacher X, after taking roll and passing out that oh-so-meaningful worksheet, I planned meals. 

How did I do it?   

1.  My own, poor brain.

2.  My husband's wonderful cookbook of family recipes, lovingly compiled over the past ten years.  Someday I'll convince him to publish it, and we will finally retire wealthy, well-fed and satisfied, but for now, it just helps.

3.  http://www.allrecipes.com/


4. http://www.foodnetwork.com/ :  Giada and Alton, if you're out there, will you marry each other and become my family's Alice?  We'll build a room off the kitchen.

5.  Refusing to turn into the drive-thru line, either by sheer force of will, or by guilt upon recalling the articles on child obesity and fast food marketing that I forced my senior classes to analyze. 

These have helped me actually know what's for dinner and stick to it.  Also, I had to stick to it because I bought the weekly groceries at one time.  Some of you are thinking, "So what?"  For me, this is a minor miracle.  I like to joke that we enjoy shopping like Europeans, but really I'm at my local grocery store everyday because I haven't planned ahead.  I'm trying to leave behind the relaxed, no-structure attitude of my twenties...

I left the body, the freedom, and the red wine behind, so why not the slacking as well? 

Time will tell if I can continue this small, sweet structure of knowing what's for dinner.  Until I'm teaching again, there may be hope. 

What do you tell your two-year old?  What's fo dinnow at yo house?

39 Months and Counting...

Thirty-nine months.  That's how long I have until my district, the one I've devoted myself to for the past eight years, formally ends my layoff package and wishes me a sad farewell.  That's a long time, but it's perhaps not long enough to recapture the students lost to the competing charter school (read: we'll give your kids a laptop and not require that they read anything, so come on down!), not long enough to generate jobs in a local economy of fast food, retail, and...what the heck do people do for a living here?  People certainly don't open new businesses in the 65% of retail space currently unoccupied in our small town.
 Therefore, those thirty-nine months may not be enough time for my superintendent to call me one fateful morning with those words I long to hear, "I have good news.  We'd like to invite you back."   However, thirty-nine months is plenty long enough to watch Bank of America politely take back my house, and to see my family migrate like modern-day Joads in the opposite direction, in search of work and a new home.  Ah, California schools.  Livin' the dream. 

It's probably obvious this is my first blog, but I have time on my hands, so I thought I'd give it a try.  If you are an unemployed teacher, join in!  Commiserate!  If you are still holding onto your job, this blog will make you appreciate your sick leave and prep period, and envy the fact that I'm blogging and not grading poorly written essays about the symbolic significance of card games in Of Mice and Men.  Yes, high school English teacher; you got me.  You may be surprised to find that this California teacher has just as much frustration for my union as for my administration.  The "Public School Question", like "The Woman Question" in 19th Century England is complicated, and the answers won't be simple.  But, if you're reading this, you already knew that.

I'm currently subbing in my own district, so after fourteen years of teaching, an M.A. in Education and endless hours of meaningful curriculum development and assessment, I am reduced to taking roll, pushing "Play" on the DVD, and passing out worksheets.  You know we can't be trusted.  I understand.  I was once you, but now I'm just a...

Teacher Not Teaching.