when i grow up

I'm not sure why it's been on my mind lately, but I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life job-wise ...

What I want to be when I grow up.

I've been teaching in some capacity (whether it be in a physical classroom, at a for-profit tutoring company, or for the virtual school) for coming on five years ... And while I've had many positive moments and the jobs have been good for me in many ways, I just didn't find myself passionate about any of them (current situation included).

I've always said that I identify with being a "scientist" first and a "teacher" second, so maybe therein lies the problem ... As convenient and family-friendly as teaching may be for a young mother with her second child on the way, I don't think my heart is truly in the teaching profession (or has it ever been there).

I don't feel a "calling" like many teachers do.

I don't think that I love it.

So when my mind wanders to life after child-rearing (when my kids are in school themselves and I can "get back to work" for real), I just don't know if I want to spend the rest of my working years and all the way up to retirement in the classroom.

I don't know if I want to be "a teacher" forever.

I mean, if teaching were all about the content (science in my case) and how to effectively present it to students, I think I could very well manage ... But that's not what teaching is in most cases. Too much, I find it's all about the politics, or the administrative duties, or all the "extras" that a teacher must do every day. Or that it's about appeasing picky parents or taking the blame when a student fails.

I've grown up hearing that teaching is a "thankless job" (my uncle was a teacher), but now that I'm living it, and closing in on five years of being an educator, I'm really beginning to understand and I don't like it.

I don't like feeling like I should second-guess myself and/or my abilities. I don't like being told that I need to do more when I'm already giving so much of myself and my talents and my time. It's just not worth it to me. Maybe temporarily, while my children grow, but not forever.

Not as a life-long career.

But science.

Lovely, wonderful, rational science.

I could walk into a lab any day of the week and immediately feel at home ... Immediately feel like I belong, like I have all the answers and I don't have to wonder or second-guess. The more I stop and really think about it, the more I realize that science is truly is my thing. From the day I filled out my college application and indicated "Biology" as my major ... I guess it always has been.

But science doesn't lend itself to motherhood like teaching does ... And certainly not like my current virtual position, where I can stay at home with my children and work at the very same time.

With science comes childcare and guilt that I'm not home.

With science comes the sense that my kids are growing up and I'm not there to witness it.

With science there are fewer days off and less time to spend on vacation.

No, science isn't all flowers and rainbows either.

That's why it's so difficult for me to decide what I really (truly!) want to be when I grow up ...

Especially since I thought I was already there.

potty mouth

A couple of weeks ago, Malcolm learned a new word.

When playing in the living room.

"Poop!"

When greeting me after a nap.

"Poop!"

When laying on the floor and watching TV.

"Poop!"

When asked, "What is (or was) in your diaper?" (Which I do many times a day since his little voice, and the way he says "Poop!" is so stinkin' cute.)

"Poop!"

It seemed my kid had poop on the brain, so I did what any proactive mother would do ... I took his little potty chair down from the attic and placed it prominently in the bathroom.

Although I'd love to sit here and type how my genius son potty trained himself in twenty-four hours (or something like that), that just isn't the case ... Malcolm definitely understands the concept (he has been following me into the bathroom since he could crawl), but I can tell that he's not quite ready to take that next step.

For one, although he will tug at his diaper or tell me that there is some poop inside, he, just as often, will sit around in a dirty diaper without any fuss until I grab the diapering supplies and go to it. And as much as he enjoys sitting on his potty chair fully clothed (and wiping his diapered butt with toilet paper), he doesn't seem to have much time for it when he is naked and actually able to use it.

I don't know what "the norm" is for boys and potty training, but I honestly hadn't given any of it much thought until Malcolm decided that "Poop!" was a fun word to say.

I'd love to have him out of diapers before Baby #2 arrives in March, but I'm not holding my breath.

As I've seen firsthand with his verbal abilities, Malcolm works on Malcolm's timetable. He doesn't care if I want him to be able to really communicate with me (although his ASL signing skills have certainly helped in that department). He doesn't care if family members insist that something must be wrong with him and we should get his hearing checked. He doesn't care if the kids around him are spouting off words left and right ...

He does what he wants to do, when he wants to do it.

I have no doubt that potty training will be exactly the same. Malcolm will decide that big boy underpants are cool as soon as he feels like they're worth his time.

So, until that fateful day, the potty chair will sit (gathering dust) in our bathroom, prompting a gleeful "Poop!" from Malcolm every time he notices it.

And I'm totally okay with that.

(Did I mention how stinkin' cute it is when his little voice says "Poop!"?)

(more) fun on the farm

Another afternoon at Mapleside Farms, another fun family outing.

I'll let the photos speak for themselves ...

Long-sleeved Shirt: Faded Glory (thrifted for $1.00)
Overalls: Old Navy (hand-me-down gift)
Hooded Sweatshirt: Baby Gap (thrifted for $2.00)
Socks: Circo (gift)
Shoes: Starter (thrifted for $1.50)

As you can see, Malcolm had an excellent time!

last october

I was browsing through my photo files and made the mistake of checking out last year's October collection ...


Yet another reminder of how much Malcolm has grown in the short span of a year.

I guess he really is ready to be a big brother ...

(both of my) boys will be boys

Here's a haiku to take us into the much needed (for me anyway) weekend ...

It's also a mini-glimpse into the ridiculousness that is life with two boys.

Son in a bear hug.
"How can you escape, Malcolm?!"
Crack! Surprise head-butt.

Note: Unfortunately, I did not snap a photo of the shiner that immediately began developing under my husband's right eye ... I think the memory will be enough for him to think twice the next time he wants to playfully restrain our smarty-pants, problem-solving toddler!