The holidays always bum me out a little bit so I was happy to welcome the new year, happier still to usher the children off to school and begin the process of reconstructing our daily routine. I don't think of myself as a particularly controlling person, but just a few (11--but who's counting?) days of totally unstructured time makes me cranky. And yet Christmas after Christmas I never learn to be more proactive about attempting to structure that time in advance. Alas. Onto 2013.
What will this year hold? I'm not sure. I'm nearly done with the process of earning my Connecticut teaching certication. I've passed the series of three Praxis I tests, and I have the Praxis II test in my subject area (English language and literature) coming up at the end of the month. Ideally, I'll find a part-time (ha ha ha) or long-term sub job starting in the spring that will roll into a full-time job in the fall, and ideally exactly the right balance of child care will make itself known. It still feels a bit like jumping into the void, but I hope for the courage to hold my breath and leap when the time comes.
I'm not much of a resolution girl, but I have a few self-improvement projects in mind for the year ahead. As before, I'm continuing to try to evolve into a cook--not a chef, but someone who can manage to get dinner on the table with a minimum of tears for both herself and her diners. I got a crock pot for Christmas so by all means send along your favorite recipes. My maiden voyage was this pork carnitas recipe (made with Trader Joe's rather than Old El Paso accoutrements), and it was edible but somewhat underwhelming.
And, of course, I hope to be more of a presence here in whatever form. As a (hopefully) future teacher, I feel somewhat constrained by what I can discuss here in the event that future students and their parents find this not-very anonymous blog. But I have things to say. (Mostly you can find me saying them on Twitter, but occasionally these things are longer than 140 characters).
The title of this post is taken from Stanley Kunitz's wonderful poem "The Layers," which was rolling around in my head when I woke up this morning:
Yet I turn, I turn,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
It's spoken to me at various points in my life (for example, here), and each time it says something different to me. I hope it speaks to you as well.