lauren loves apples

I wrote a post this afternoon on the last little droplet of battery acid… and it promptly closed the whole world down the second I thought I had clicked “save” or whatever. Just goes to show ya. On a lighter note I wore my pink boots to school today since it was raining and pouring and really I felt like snoring thru the morning. But schlepped the children and myself to school, promptly at our appointed hours.

And class was cancelled. I’ve been feeling peaked myself so I did not at all begrudge Mrs. L.  her untimely (and incredibly convenient) illness. I was then able to continue to “memorize” my 2 minute talk in Dr. C’s class. Which I swear to you was a 2 minute talk till I forgotted like 38 seconds of it. Seriously. The boys and I typed it up and recorded me on the web cam, and somewhat also recorded them on the webcam. I wish I knew where it saved those videos, because they’re probably pretty cute. The O’boyzies would hand me stuff to use. “Here mom, you should hold up the ball of yarn, here, the crochet hook” and I had I swear to you, one minute fifty beautiful seconds of it. Which I seem to have blacked out for, I heard myself babbling about how fabulous a fad Amigurumi was in Japan, and not including anything about how I make my own patterns for the little stuffed animals because I know all the stitches, whatever. I’m excited to see what grade I got. If I missed a point for going under a minute fifty, maybe I got a point for never ever saying Uuummm…

The rain this morning surprised me. I dragged my butt out the door and the little boys frolicked about and cavorted round the driveway in the rain till I got the garage door open. Little bit slippery in the rain. I didn’t think it was that bad till I walked out in it. So I of course decided to don complete rain gear. Galoshes and a rain jacket. Which guaranteed I’d be sweltering all day but hey, who doesn’t feel cheery in pink boots. Oh and lots of caffeinated goodness. And ibuprofin. Yeah I was in a great mood today. Don’t forget pain and misery are optional.

Today I go to the art center to discuss floor cloths and the teaching of a class on how to make floor cloths. So I should prepare. For that. I have floor cloths, I have a book. I have courage. So that makes me prepared, right? Should I dress up? Or do I take that artistic license in the whole clothing items and decorative accessories department?

What am I passionate about? I need to do some work on my 2 minute talk today. Two things. I do not know. My entire being seems to center around the mellow and middle of the road. So generally I can take it or leave it, whatever it is. Unless it’s the kids, and I can’t justify bringing them to class. Because that would get them out of class. Only skip class for dental appointments. But I do take plenty of pictures of the kids. So that was thing one. Thing two is so bizarre that I would look at someone else funny for doing the thing that I do.

I want some notecards. I picked out the items/artifacts to bring for my talk. I still need to print out kid pictures, because mainly what I enjoy doing is taking pictures of kids. So that’s my talk. Silly multicolored crochet animals and picture taking. Two things I’m passionate about. If I could be considered passionate about anything not human.

The wordpress format is complicated. And I don’t like how it says “Howdy” up there. Howdy. Seriously? I like Blogger better. But that’s okay. I enjoy blogging as a way to organize my thoughts. For some reason it makes great sense to me to publish for all to see an itemization of what’s going on in my head at the time. Why is this and do I have a big problem with it? Because for some reason I think I should. Why would it be important or even reasonable to think other people should read what I have to say? However, I do it anyway. But now I’m starting to wonder what I’m supposed to be doing.

Going home now. To load the floor cloths in the vehicle. And take a shower. Aiming for presentable.

I want to teach art. This requires huge leaps of faith daily. Daily I remind myself I can do this, and once I’ve done it, there will be a job for me. Because it’s the only thing that makes sense.

Once upon a time I was a student. I do not recall much in the way of art education in grades K-12.

I was born in Louisiana, which is a very interesting, historically creative and colorful state. I spent K-4 in Cameron, Louisiana, which for all practical purposes, is no longer there. I spent 4-12 in Springhill, Louisiana.  I repeated 4th grade. I know why it happened. I failed math consistently for 8 years.

I spent time in both gifted and talented classes and special education classes. I was evaluated in 7th grade and diagnosed with a learning disability “in math” – or maybe just in memorization. I don’t know my multiplication tables and I don’t think I could tell you what an adverb is either. Or other grammar things. Can’t define them but obviously I can use them well.

I went to college at NLU which is now ULM and used to be other names, like when my dad went there. I felt I was well educated, challenged, I think they did a good job of teaching me, and at the end I had a bachelors of fine art degree.

But what do you do with that? I asked myself that continuously. After I got it.

I got an interesting education just living my life. In spite of the fact that I have a huge hugewonderful family in Louisiana, I was dragged somewhat reluctantly to Iowa, to live among my then-husband’s few relatives. In need of family I learned to tolerate his local relatives well. I gave birth to three children, and an ex-husband (insert strange social/emotional/statistical assumptions here).

I have three kids!

In the course of divorce, I lost my home of 9 years but gained my independence and my very first apartment. I lost all faith in the local “ex-family” and found my first true love best friend.

Here in  Iowa, I had a few jobs with varying success. Well. Two. Church Secretary being the unsuccessful first. The second was what I thought was great at the time. Having failed dismally to keep a job as a church secretary (I was there about seven years, so how hard could it be? Well it’s not hard if your thyroid gland cooperates!) I admit it. They didn’t want me anymore.

I got a part time temporary job at the grand new Sioux City Linens N Things and worked my way up, in only three years, to Assistant Manager. Goal accomplished. Kids had health insurance, & I could afford food without food stamps. According to me, I could do anything. Well there was a small hitch, right there at the end. Linens N Things filed for reorganization. Oh that means bankruptcy. The very day we figured out exactly how much money I’d be making as the assistant manager, that was the day LNT began a long slow painful decline.

Then I closed it down. I watched the liquidation of our merchandise. I watched the sale of all our fixtures. The shelves I’d worked so hard to fill the beginning, gone. The ladders I’d built strong muscles climbing daily up to the tippy top shelves in the ceiling of the building, gone. I locked the door the final day myself. No more successful job. No more staff. No more insurance for my kids. No more real world. No more store.

So what now?

I took a class at the AEA required to obtain substitute authorization. Because I have a degree, and several years work experience, Iowa will allow me to substitute in  grades 5-12. The class was incredible and I was so inspired by the opportunity I saw there. But.

The more I thought about it, it seemed like teaching would just be the coolest thing I could do. I’m an artist.  But there really aren’t any companies out there hiring people like me. (Well, I hope to teach at the art center next year.) I’m a mom, I have great kids, obviously I can do that right. Most of my favorite people are in fact children.

So that is why I’m here. Children can see better than adults. And by see, I mean to look at the world around them and see with amazement the things that most adults just walk on by. If more people knew how to keep that ability, there would be a whole lot more happy people. If you can see what’s amazing about life, it’s so much easier to handle the parts that aren’t quite so great.

bubbles in the back yard July 23, 2009, (c) RLL