- It is possible to have a job that you truly love; a job that certainly doesn't DEFINE who you are, but one that compliments you as a person. Already, the few months I've been with (or back with) Emler Swim School have reminded me that I have something worth giving and it's not about the time I spend at work but what I do while I'm there that counts.
- Texas blows the term "summer heat" out of the water. Welcome back.
- Deer seem to really love Austin. I've seen more of them here than anywhere else I've lived.
- Old friends from college can survive a brief stint in Oklahoma...or India. Being back within a couple of hours from my college girls has been one of the highlights of living here. I love that even after almost eight years, we can get together and pick up where we left off. Time doesn't really seem to exist when you've got a Fam. :)
- All of the hours and energy spent at work have somehow managed to calm some of my quirky little habits. I don't feel the need to obsessively clean the apartment...the dishes can wait. I am a lot less worrisome and plan-oriented. And I stay so busy at work that I find myself much more flexible and easy-going, quite the opposite of the "Fire & Brimstone" girl that Grant has known in the past.
- I like going to the movies alone. It relaxes me.
- I know better now than to let my brother-in-law borrow my camera for a trip to Alaska...or any trip for that matter. A "small drop of water" means that he most likely dropped it in a lake while kayaking.
- I've been complimented a lot lately on two things that have always seemed a little laughable to me: my dancing and my hair.
- It's more than ok for me to spend time alone and enjoy it. I've come to welcome it lately.
- I'm bad at decorating my home. I have two large picture collage frames on the wall that have been completely empty for some time now.
- I am a big fan of the fish burrito at Wahoo's on 6th.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Three months later...
A couple of days ago, I was writing the date on something totally unimportant when I realized I'd been in Austin for over three months. How did that happen? I feel like I was just moving into our new home in the middle of May, then I blinked and here I am getting ready to celebrate Labor Day. The summer might be almost gone, but it has left me with a few discoveries that were made during these first three months back in the Lonestar State.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Kids Say the Darndest Things...
It recently dawned on me that working with kids automatically gives me plenty of great blogging material. I don't know how I've gone without realizing that for almost three months. But let me tell you that the things that I hear from day to day are worth sharing. From the mouths of babes...
At our swim school, our curriculum uses themes for the younger-aged programs. One week might be Space Week, the next week could be Sports week, etc. One week was Cartoon Week. I was managing an evening shift and noticed one teacher, in particular, having trouble bringing his cartoon theme to life. His class of three year-olds was quickly becoming a wreck and I hopped in the water, hoping to assist him. I worked closely with one little girl named Jewel. Jewel wanted nothing to do with going under the water so I got into my cartoon character and encouraged Jewel to do the same. I rattled off several Disney princess names, decided to make Jewel Cinderella, and wove a pretty impressive tale that I was sure would distract Jewel from the fact that she was swimming. After having Jewel do a two-second swim turn under water, I pulled her up and praised her and hugged her tightly. Jewel was crying and screamed, "I need to be a person NOW! I need to be a person so I can go home!" Hiding my laughter at that moment might have been one of the hardest things I've ever done.
This week is our last week of the summer session at our school. We are using it as Water Safety Week. Yesterday a teacher asked one of her younger swimmers what he needed to do if he ever fell into the water. (FYI-the correct answer is "swim back to the wall".) The child answered, "Swim up!". The teacher said, "Good! Where do you swim up to?" and the child answered, "Swim up to Jesus!". No kid! Swim away from the light! Swim back to the wall! HA!
These are just a couple of my favorite kid moments at work. I'll be sure to keep them coming because hopefully they'll give you just as big a laugh as they give me.
At our swim school, our curriculum uses themes for the younger-aged programs. One week might be Space Week, the next week could be Sports week, etc. One week was Cartoon Week. I was managing an evening shift and noticed one teacher, in particular, having trouble bringing his cartoon theme to life. His class of three year-olds was quickly becoming a wreck and I hopped in the water, hoping to assist him. I worked closely with one little girl named Jewel. Jewel wanted nothing to do with going under the water so I got into my cartoon character and encouraged Jewel to do the same. I rattled off several Disney princess names, decided to make Jewel Cinderella, and wove a pretty impressive tale that I was sure would distract Jewel from the fact that she was swimming. After having Jewel do a two-second swim turn under water, I pulled her up and praised her and hugged her tightly. Jewel was crying and screamed, "I need to be a person NOW! I need to be a person so I can go home!" Hiding my laughter at that moment might have been one of the hardest things I've ever done.
This week is our last week of the summer session at our school. We are using it as Water Safety Week. Yesterday a teacher asked one of her younger swimmers what he needed to do if he ever fell into the water. (FYI-the correct answer is "swim back to the wall".) The child answered, "Swim up!". The teacher said, "Good! Where do you swim up to?" and the child answered, "Swim up to Jesus!". No kid! Swim away from the light! Swim back to the wall! HA!
These are just a couple of my favorite kid moments at work. I'll be sure to keep them coming because hopefully they'll give you just as big a laugh as they give me.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The dark side...
After several years of swearing I wouldn't fall under the same family curse, it finally happened. I got a Costco membership. Yes, I went over to the dark side of wholesale bulk and frankly I'm wondering how I got here.
For years, I was appalled at the trips that my mom would take to the looming giant, known as Costco. The parking lot, alone, stressed me out. It always seemed to be full of Suburbans and bustling soccer moms. Women dressed in velour work-out suits would come out of the store, yacking on their cell phone, and pushing a monstrosity of a shopping cart filled to the brim with giant boxes of cereal, a literal vat of pickles, and maybe a new iPod or two.
My mother was no better. I can say with the utmost seriousness that every other time I called her cell phone, she was walking around Costco. It got to the point that she'd pretend she was somewhere else just so I wouldn't give her a hard time for being the bought-in-bulk queen. During visits home, I could tell when she'd taken a trip to her wholesale haven. Giant bottles of shampoo in the shower, enough deli meat in the fridge to feed a homeless shelter, and a 12-pack of Glade plug-ins. Ok, so maybe you can't have too many plug-ins when you house a teenage boy.
Mom tried to entice me over to the dark side. She'd tell me tales of the best samples she'd ever tried. Sometimes she looked forward to her Costco trips just FOR the samples. I didn't buy it, though. The sample people were always a little too leering, in my opinion, ready to pounce with their wheat crackers and cheese cubes. It got to the point that if I was with Mom during a Costco stop, I'd happily wait in the car and read a book. Sample-free. She constantly claimed that I was missing out on an incredible shopping experience. I thought not.
And then the day came, recently, when I simply gave up. I was tired of making multiple trips to the grocery store just for two people. I couldn't take one more "quick trip" to pick something up that I'd forgotten. Couldn't I just buy enough to last me the month, maybe more? Uh-oh, I'd been bitten. Bulk was calling.
I reluctantly walked into the giant warehouse and was directed to "Member Services" to receive a membership card. $50 and one grainy ID picture of someone who resembled a Mr. Potato Head with hair (it was the camera) later, I was a Costco member. It had all happened so fast. And then I was off, pushing my Cadillac-sized shopping cart and tossing in 24-packs of this and 10 pounds of that. Before I knew it, I was at the check-out counter with a shopping cart full of...I'm not sure and $149.87 poorer. I'm been defeated. The Costco monster had finally beaten me and it was all downhill from here.
For years, I was appalled at the trips that my mom would take to the looming giant, known as Costco. The parking lot, alone, stressed me out. It always seemed to be full of Suburbans and bustling soccer moms. Women dressed in velour work-out suits would come out of the store, yacking on their cell phone, and pushing a monstrosity of a shopping cart filled to the brim with giant boxes of cereal, a literal vat of pickles, and maybe a new iPod or two.
My mother was no better. I can say with the utmost seriousness that every other time I called her cell phone, she was walking around Costco. It got to the point that she'd pretend she was somewhere else just so I wouldn't give her a hard time for being the bought-in-bulk queen. During visits home, I could tell when she'd taken a trip to her wholesale haven. Giant bottles of shampoo in the shower, enough deli meat in the fridge to feed a homeless shelter, and a 12-pack of Glade plug-ins. Ok, so maybe you can't have too many plug-ins when you house a teenage boy.
Mom tried to entice me over to the dark side. She'd tell me tales of the best samples she'd ever tried. Sometimes she looked forward to her Costco trips just FOR the samples. I didn't buy it, though. The sample people were always a little too leering, in my opinion, ready to pounce with their wheat crackers and cheese cubes. It got to the point that if I was with Mom during a Costco stop, I'd happily wait in the car and read a book. Sample-free. She constantly claimed that I was missing out on an incredible shopping experience. I thought not.
And then the day came, recently, when I simply gave up. I was tired of making multiple trips to the grocery store just for two people. I couldn't take one more "quick trip" to pick something up that I'd forgotten. Couldn't I just buy enough to last me the month, maybe more? Uh-oh, I'd been bitten. Bulk was calling.
I reluctantly walked into the giant warehouse and was directed to "Member Services" to receive a membership card. $50 and one grainy ID picture of someone who resembled a Mr. Potato Head with hair (it was the camera) later, I was a Costco member. It had all happened so fast. And then I was off, pushing my Cadillac-sized shopping cart and tossing in 24-packs of this and 10 pounds of that. Before I knew it, I was at the check-out counter with a shopping cart full of...I'm not sure and $149.87 poorer. I'm been defeated. The Costco monster had finally beaten me and it was all downhill from here.
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