After laying in bed for over an hour, I decided to get up and have some cereal. My hubby delivers pizza a couple of nights a week, and him coming to bed woke me up. Normally, I sleep through anything and everything (and that is probably one of the main reasons we are able to coexist), but combine passing out before 9 pm with "that time of the month", and now you have this predicament. Though, cereal during non-breakfast hours is heavenly.
It is the start to another school year. Baby J is 9 years old, 150 centimetres (approx. 5 feet), 40 kilograms (approx. 90 pounds), and going into Grade 4. I think I've accepted the fact that my "baby" really isn't too much of a baby anymore. And I've also accepted the fact that he'll probably be taller than me by this time next year. Craziness. We don't know quite what activities for him to do this year. He doesn't want Tae Kwon Do again, we aren't a hockey family (gasp!), and we're not starting him with piano lessons until our current roomies move out (the piano is shoved into one of their rooms). Soooo.... I'm going to try to get my tall one into a 10 week basketball camp (yay for stereotypes!), and maybe do some swimming lessons during the year. Decisions, decisions. And money budgeting.
My beautiful hubby got a promotion at work this past month. He goes from a Service Advisor position at a car dealership to Assistant Service Manager. Basically, he oversees everything to getting your car serviced except for the actual car technicians (oil change lube pit, service advisors, dispatch - guy who assigns work to techs). He's quite the customer service guy and also a guy that wants a "career" and not just a "job", so he's feeling pretty good about the shift. Plus, he gets an office.
Myself, it is another year of teaching the wonderful world of English to high school minds. I think this is the first year ever that I don't teach something that I haven't taught before. Almost our entire English dept. moved, transferred, etc., so I have become a "veteran" to all the newbies (not necessarily new teachers). While I've always kept an eye out and helped any new people (I remember how it is starting out), it's weird for so many to look at me for my "expert opinion". Eek. Then it dawns on me that this will be my eighth year teaching. Double eek.
Speaking of eeks, I'm really starting to seriously consider starting a Masters Degree. Now, the intelligent thing would be to do something in the realm of Education, like Curriculum Development or Special Ed. But a big part of me wants to shoot myself in the foot (metaphorically speaking) and do one in English. Two hurdles: trying to figure out exactly "what" in the wide scope of English, and writing 15+ page essays again. It's been a VERY LONG time since I've tackled literary essays. Kinda scared at the thought.
There is always the back burner dream of becoming a University professor one day. Though, my husband doesn't relish the idea of being introduced as "Dr. And Mr. _______". I've got to admit, the idea made me giggle a bit.
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