Looking for that dang glass...

The last time my sister was here we were talking about that old saying: "Are you a "glass-half full or half-empty" person? My sister, who's always been a bit pessimistic, said that her glass would be broken.

Personally, my perspective switches quite a bit. I can alternatively see the best in people and the world and I can quickly lose all hope and direction. This week I am trying to see the glass half full (and not cracked, dirty, or out to get me.)

Surprisingly, it's working.

We have had some great news. Justin got offered a job in Stockton. It would be easy for me to get really upset about the commute, the not so great school he'll be working at, and the fact that the principal has yet to contact him. Yet I am not upset. I have found myself floating above all those worries. I am just so happy that Justin's hard work has finally paid off.

I applied for the v.p. position at my school and did not get called for an interview, even though the principal said he scored my paper work high. Honestly, I was more than a bit angry about not getting an interview. It's not that I thought I'd get the job, but I wanted the chance. However, I have a great teaching schedule this year (English 9, Honors 10, and seventh period prep). By the end of the week, I noticed my mood was changing. I started to realize that I could enjoy this school year.

Surviving last year has taught me a lot. I never thought that my family would survive on one income with Justin and I both in school. Yet we did. This year will bring its own frustrations and struggles--Justin's first public school job, my last year in the admin credential program, and Emerson's potty training. (I would happily write someone else's masters thesis to not have to do that last one.)

While I'm nervous, I'm actually feeling pretty good about all the things I am going to do this year. Hey, look at that water filling the glass...

My Kryptonite: PAIN

I have a problem with pain. I hate, hate, hate being in pain. When I'm in pain (this is physical pain, I'm talking about) I cannot think (or really talk) about anything else.

And what I say is not nice.

It's like the filter that typically separates my true thoughts and the kind euphemisms I normally say dissolves. And there I am in all my tactless, pain-filled wonder. It's like I need everyone else to experience my unhappiness.

I do not like this aspect of my personality.

But seriously, I hate pain.

Take the last 24 hours. I got cavities filled last week and I don't my bite was done correctly. I must have been hitting a nerve because every time I chewed, a stabbing pain shot from my mouth straight to my ear. Last night I couldn't sleep. Had to lay on the couch with an ice pack and count the minutes before the Advil kicked in.

Today at work was low key. I graded while the kids took finals, and I was out by 12:30. But I was not my usual self.

Here's how I know I've changed and grown as a person: I actually did something about my pain. I didn't whine and complain. I made an appointment and got my dentist to shave down my fillings. I already feel better.

This is new behavior for me. I used to be in pain, but procrastinate doing anything about it. Drove my husband nuts.

I've noticed since I had a kid that I don't tend to do that anymore. I seem to value my time more.

Or, I have just started to drive myself crazy too with all my complaining. :)

Finding my Inner Mama Lion

For all my supposed flaunting of authority as a teenager, I really am a big wuss when it comes to the rules. I follow them. I rarely question them. And I feel a lot of anxiety when I feel that an authority figure is judging me.

This is especially true when it comes to doctors and other medical professionals. I remember feeling just awful when I met with the nurse practitioner for the first time about my gestational diabetes. She was totally harsh and I didn't stand up for myself at all.

When facing an authoritative person, especially women, I turn to mush.

Well, I used to.

Recently, I found my inner mama lion. This all came about because I didn't listen to myself. Which made me both really pissed with myself and with a new target: medical professionals.

Allow me to explain.

My daughter had all of her teeth, even the molars way before her first birthday. She started with two in the front, then six popped in one day (I'm not kidding) and then they all started flying in rapid succession.

I was concerned, so I asked her doctor about it a her first year appointment. She was on fluoride drops, no juice, no bottle at night, etc. All was good.

But the more I thought about it, the more worried I felt. However, every medical expert I spoke to told me to wait until she was 3 or 4 before seeing a dentist. Each one brushed me off like I had nothing to worry about. But I did.

I asked my daycare lady, who was a dental hygienist in the past, to take a look. She told me she thought she saw some decay. I rushed Em into an appointment, and yup, she had 7 cavities.

Seven cavities.

I lost it. The anger and guilt boiled through me for days. But after I calmed down and gained some perspective (I do have awesome dental coverage after all), that anger turned into something remarkably like a back bone.

When the dental hygienist asked me repeatedly if Em still took a bottle at night and arched her eyebrow every time I said no, I told her firmly that I was not lying so she could just stop it.

When the nurse who was monitoring my daughter's anesthesia during her dental surgery to fix her teeth, patted my arm condescendingly and told me not to worry about a thing, I said, "No, you will explain the entire procedure until I understand it fully."

These may not seem like bold moves, but for me they are. I finally figured out that no one will stand up for me except me. And no one can be a better advocate for my daughter but me.

Em is fine. Her teeth are beautiful and I'm so glad we were able to get everything done in one appointment, I was not thrilled about her being sedated, but it went great.

While I still wish this had never happened, I know so much more now. I knew deep down that something was wrong, but I didn't listen to myself. I used to get angry and frustrated with myself for not trusting my own judgment, but I'm so past that now. Hey, if I'm wrong about something, so be it. But I'd rather go with my gut and check things out and be a little embarrassed at overreacting than make my family the victim of my inaction.

All in all, this was a big week.

I'd rather...

I have oft heard (and even said myself) the following: I would rather have a root canal than...fill in the blank--do my taxes, mow the lawn, clean my room, etc.

Well, that is just not the truth. I'd rather do my taxes, fifty times over in one year, than get a root canal. I now know this as a fact because today I experienced my first, and last thank you very much, root canal.

I find all of this very embarrassing, so of course, I'm telling everyone in the world. Whatever. But the reason for this particular procedure is two-fold: 1) I am a VERY bad girl, and 2) I have VERY bad dental genetics. Well, that's not entirely true; my teeth are straight, just weak as all get out.

So last week, I dragged my sorry butt to the dentist to discover that it is possible to spend all your dental insurance allowance in one visit. (Side note: if you can get a job with EGUSD and keep it, the insurance is FANTASTIC, no joke.)

Today I paid the proverbial piper and went to my two-hour appointment. I came to the following conclusions:

1. Marvin Gaye is a very strange musical choice for a dental office, especially when you are getting your teeth drilled (Yes, I do want to get it on!)
2. Being a dental assistant and keeping a straight face while patients make all sorts of funky faces must be really difficult; I wonder if they have classes in it.
3. Novocaine is a fantastic product, but not as good as codeine.
4. I will forever carry floss in my purse...and actually use it.

I am really glad today is over and I am pretty sure I will pause the next time I get the urge to say, "I'd rather..."