T.G.I.F.

I'm not going to lie; working Fridays has been hard for me.  I know I live a charmed life in which I can sit back and whine, "Now that I'm working full time, I have to get out of bed before 6:00 a.m., and I even have to work five whole days during the week."  Yeah, I know... I'm a wuss, and so many of you have been doing that for years.  But I haven't.

I quit working full time when Adam was 6 months old.  I've always worked some during the 8.5 years since - teaching piano, working part time at a school, tending kids, bookkeeping for my dad... I have always had a job.  But I've had part time.  Or flexible.  Or 4-days a week.

And now I have contract hours.  On specific days.  And one of those days is FRIDAY.

If you're not a teacher, maybe you don't know what school is like on Friday.  In general, the kids are usually either wired or tired, which means it takes way more energy to teach the 5 hours of an early out day than any of the other full days.

And if you're not me, maybe you don't know what I'm like on Friday. In general, I'm either wired or tired, which means my natural personality is either egging on my precocious math group or I'm too tired to motivate my students to put 100% effort into their rough drafts.

Fridays are tough.  Period.

A glance at the calendar reveals this is only the 9th Friday we've had this school year.  Which means this being here on Friday thing is still pretty new to me.  In my past life (as a dedicated music teacher), I didn't teach on Fridays, because the kids don't attend specials on Friday.  Might I mention that I loved this.  But in agreeing to teach 5th grade (might I mention that I also love this), I also agreed to be here, focused, and effective 5 days a week.

And with some help, I'm doing it!

First of all, I don't waste precious Friday energy on deciding what to wear.  Teachers are allowed to wear the student uniform polo on Fridays as long as they are willing to wear the rest of the uniform with it.  There is exactly 1 teacher in the building who takes advantage of that policy.  Yours truly.  At first I was a bit self-conscious about it, but I quickly discovered that my students think it is cool that I dress like them.  I also found out that other teachers would wear the polo except they refuse to tuck in their shirts.  But I digress.  Although it doesn't seem like much, the comfort of the baggy polo frees up so much of my attention which I can then direct to squeezing out an extra 5 hours of awesome to get the job done the way it needs to be done.

But the thing that has helped me change my Friday song actually has nothing to do with school.

Once upon a time, when Kirk and I were young and poor and engaged to be married, we had a standing Thursday lunch date.  If I remember the details right, he didn't have class on Thursdays, so that meant he had time to make the drive from West Valley to Draper to come have lunch with me.

But as a poor, starving student, he couldn't actually afford to take me to lunch.  So we set the precedent of being together without needing to be fancy.  Every Thursday, he picked me up at my office and drove me to my parents' house where we spent an hour together and ate whatever we could find in the cupboards.  It was during one such lunch date that he proposed to me (over ramen noodles).

Fast forward nearly 13 years (and three kids) later, and we've finally found a way to reinstate the weekly lunch date!  Kirk works four 10's, so he has Fridays off.  He switched to this schedule to accommodate my full-time teaching schedule last spring, but we looked forward to the day we'd be able to enjoy our joint day off while two of our kids were in school.  But summer came, and along with it came a chance for Kirk to work some overtime.  He worked Fridays to bring home some extra for the family while I enjoyed my summer off with the kids.  Just as I geared up for EYT (with its five-day-a-week schedule), Kirk ended the overtime work and once again had his Fridays free.  But as I went straight into the school year, we realized the ideal we'd imagined was just not going to happen.  (In other words, there would be no September tee times.)

But I do get a lunch break, and I do teach just down the street from McDonalds, and Kirk does have to come to the school anyway to pick up Adam and Alex from school.  And since that is the order in which our stars have aligned, we've continued on in our non-fancy ways and decided that a standing 12:30 on Friday lunch date would be perfect.

So each Friday, Dylan and Kirk pick me up at the school.  Kirk and I enjoy much needed conversation while Dylan plays.  We eat from the dollar menu.  We spend about 30 minutes enjoying a bit of quiet or making financial decisions, or planning for our future.  We get a second to talk about the kids without the interruptions of the kids.  Then Kirk drives me through the pick-up line for school, and I get out while the kids get in.

And when my energy lags in the middle of math, or I just need a little extra oomph in my day, I remember that at 12:30, my husband and youngest son will be there to get me.  It's not to say my students aren't enough!  But when I'm having a hard time being enough for them, the promise of our weekly lunch date reminds me that I can do it.

When I wake up each Friday morning, don my NPA polo shirt, and consider all that is in store for me, I think, "Thank Goodness It's Friday!"

A Big Decision and a Little Note

The Big Decision:

I have decided not to return to EYT for the 2014 season.  The reasons are too many and to personal to list, but I have not made the decision quickly nor taken it lightly, and the choice is not an easy one for me.  However, there is so much good that can come from me spending more time with my family, and I can't wait to plan our Summer '14 adventures!

The Little Note:

I just want to take a moment to thank all of you who have made EYT a huge success in three short years!  It's crazy to reflect on how much has changed at both the Empress and in my own life in that time.

• The first year, there were only 37 kids in all of EYT.  This last year we had 36 full day!
• A lot of the first EYT kids were brand new to theater (or at least community theater).  Now almost everybody is a seasoned veteran.
• We used to have four weeks of EYT (four days a week).  Now we do it only 14.5 crazy days!
• The Empress increased its show season to include 10 shows each year.  I can't remember the exact previous number.
• My little Dylan was still a baby and slept in a pack-n-play in the dressing rooms while we rehearsed.  This October, he turned 4!
• None of my own kids were in all-day school.  Now I have a 3rd grader, a 1st grader, and one in preschool.
• I worked about 15 hours per week teaching music.  Now I teach full time, 5th grade AND music!
• I was an energetic 29.  Now I'm an old, tired 32.  :)

I've told many people before that I'm never sad when a show closes.  Having been in "the business" for as long as I have, I know there will always be another show.  And although it's hard to imagine it ever being as great as this show (whichever show this may be at the time), I have enough of a history to know that somehow, it is!  Sure, I miss the people.  But I also know that it all comes around.  In 2011, I did Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat with my best friend from elementary school.  We'd done Joseph together almost 20 years before that, and never did a community show together again after that.  But 20 years later, there we were on stage together again.  I promise, it comes around.

So show closings don't get to me.  

But the end of an era... that's different.

And so it is, with a lot of reservations and what ifs and sadness, I'm announcing that for me, it is a new season.

A season of football and piano lessons and homework and reading.  Of spending the last three weeks of summer with my own kids (before gearing up to teach full time in the fall).  Of building, decorating, and settling into a new house.  Of doing a few things well instead of doing a lot of things frantically.  Of taking a summer vacation when my brother gets back from Bolivia.  Of spending time in Georgia with Lisa and her beautiful baby, John.  

I hope I can keep the door open.  In the mood for Shmimminim Shmamcakes?  Just Facebook me and head on over; we'll cook up a batch.  Excited about a new role at school?  I would love to hear about it!  Need help for an upcoming audition?  I am happy to do what I can.  

But in this new season, I will turn over the wonderful experience of EYT to the next energetic (crazy) person who will care about all of "my"kids as much as I have.  I don't know yet who that will be, but I know the Empress will put EYT in good hands.

My life is better for having worked with each of you.  I'll be taking the lessons you've taught me into whatever adventures are next.  And I'll never forget the resounding cry of "Who are we?  EYT!"

The Big Five

I went back to the gym last night for the first time since I started student teaching in March.  Skye, Michelle, Kirk and I just all renewed our WVCFFC memberships, and we dropped of our five cumulative kids in various locations in the building and got our workout on.

After the trip (fun was had by all), I skimmed a diet/fitness book that suggested that if I really want to see results, I should have 5 specific goals for the next 12 weeks.  Since my motivation for going to the gym isn't really all that specific, I thought maybe some goals would help me keep choosing to spend my free time torturing my glutes (which definitely are feeling it today).

The easy goals would be: lose x# of pounds in 12 weeks.  But that's not why I am there.  So here it goes.  The Big Five that I plan to accomplish by Valentine's Day:

1. Learn to do a standing back flip.  Thanks to the missionaries, I learned how to do a back flip on the trampoline this summer.  But with Skye's awesome spotting skills and access to mats, I'm going to master the art of a back flip with no springy assistance.
2. Run a mile under 8:00.  The fastest I've ever done it was back in 8th grade when I worked so hard to achieve Presidential Physical Fitness shortly after dropping a piano on my knee.  I ran it in 7:35.  When I was frequently attending the gym, I had gotten close to that 8 minute mark, and I really think that this time I can do it.
3. Feel rested when I wake up each morning.  I know this one is hard to purposefully accomplish, but I know that regular exercise helps.  Also, by Valentines Day, I will be show-free.  So I should be able to manage good bedtimes as well.  And if I could wish for anything in the world, it may very well be to not feel so tired in the mornings.
4. Wear longer pants.  I notice that although my clothes still fit when I gain a bit of weight/flab, my pants seem to be an inch or two shorter because my thighs are hogging more than their fair share of cloth.  I'm not buying new pants.  But in 12 weeks, I am going to notice that my pants seem a bit longer.
5. Notice a shift in the leisure activities of my family.  Again, hard to purposefully accomplish.  But I'm hoping that 12 weeks of spending our free time at the gym will cause a shift from kids whose first choice is video games, whose second choice is TV, and whose third choice is the computer to kids who feel a little off if they haven't done something active.  We'll see.  They'll probably still pick the screen when they get a choice.  

So there it is.  The Big Five.  A list I can look back on with pride (or regret).  A better defined motivation to spend the hour between dinner and kids' bed playing racquetball with Adam, walking the track with Al and D, or doing weight training alongside my sister, husband, or brother-in-law.  A choice to fill the hours when I feel a bit anxious about not being at rehearsal.  

Mostly, I just really want to learn to do the back flip...

Guaranteed Headache Day

That probably sounds like a disrespectful moniker for Veteran's Day, but I promise I mean it with incredible respect.

As a teacher at Navigator Pointe Academy, I look forward each year to the school's Veteran's Assembly.  This assembly is such a big deal that there is a circulating joke at our charter school which, according to the guidelines of our charter, doesn't celebrate any holidays.  We don't do Halloween or Valentine's parties, and our only school observation of Christmas is a last-day-before-winter-break service project.  But boy, oh boy, do we do Veteran's Day.  We write letters.  We do art.  We sing.  And we hold a huge assembly to which we invite the veteran friends and family members of our students.

This year, we had about 50 veterans in attendance, and plenty of songs, speeches, and art to honor them the NPA way.  But I had decided to try something new this year, and I taught the same patriotic medley to the entire elementary school.  I practiced with them in their individual classes, giving the mezzo soprano parts to the 3rd grade, the alto to the fourth grade, and the melody to the younger students.  The 5th grade students learned both alto and soprano to lend their more mature voices to the song.  At their performances 2 weeks ago, I had the chance to rehearse with the 1st and 2nd grades together and with the 3rd through 5th grade classes, but until today, I had not yet heard the whole of my 250-voice choir sing together.

Keep in mind that by this point in the assembly, I had already choked back tears at the sincere words of 8 young speakers and the return thanks of one veteran special guest.  So when I saw a sea of my students and heard their confident voices (and beautiful harmonies), there was little I could do to maintain composure.

And fighting back tears is for me, a guaranteed headache.  I should learn to bring some medicine to school on Veterans Day.

There are so many reasons I'm proud to be an NPA teacher, but if there's one day that brings the all to the surface, it's this guaranteed headache day.

The assembly ended with 16 minutes left of the school day, not enough for me to personally thank each of the 10 classes that contributed to my condition, so I decided to write a letter.  I frantically typed, quickly copied, and rushed the delivery of this letter to each classroom 1st through 5th grade.  And then I thought I'd put it here so if ever I doubt where I am or why, I can look back to today.

Dear NPA Students – 

I think most of you have heard me say that it is hard for music to give me the chills, because I get to hear you sing beautifully all the time.  I have also made many of you a promise that if you ever gave me the chills, I would stop right there in the middle of the song and show you.  

Well, it didn’t seem like a good idea to stop in the middle of the assembly, so I decided to write a letter instead to tell you all how amazing your song was.  I didn’t just get the chills – I had to stop singing because I was starting to cry!  Hearing over 250 students singing so respectfully about our country was really something amazing.  That alone was special enough to make me cry.  But then to hear the fourth grade and Mrs. Francom’s class singing such a beautiful alto part, to hear the 3rd grade students sing their special note at the end, to hear the 1st graders confidently singing “America, America,” and to hear Ms. Laudie’s class and the 2nd grade carrying the melody, I just have to say what a proud music teacher I am today.

Thank you for using your talents today as a way to honor our veterans.  I hope your singing was as special and powerful to each of them as it was to me.

Mrs. Fife

Yes, guaranteed headache.  And so worth it.

A Four Letter Word

Diet.

Urban dictionary lists several definitions:

• a four-letter word that often leads to deprivation, frustration and, ultimately, failure
• a word used by large food corporations to deceive old/fat women and men into believing their product is actually remotely healthy
• the thing your on today, then off of tomorrow

And my personal favorite:

• a form of torture, hence "Die" with a "t" at the end

However, definition #1 listed in the more widely accepted Miriam-Webster version says:

• the kinds of food that a person, animal, or community habitually eats

Well, as the result of about a 7-week struggle to maintain my vocal health, I've had to do a ton of research and fundamentally change mine.

My quest to eat more of the foods that apparently are vocal-fold friendly (namely, high-water-content fruits and vegetables) has become a source of amusement for the other teachers who share my lunch break.  They watched my first attempt at peppers.  Deemed quickly by me to not be edible.

I got discouraged and survived on Fuji apples, carrots, and almonds for a few consecutive weeks.

And then my lunchbox was empty, and I'd forgotten to bring anything from home.  So I visited the produce section at Harmons.  Beautiful!  Expensive, yes, but arranged in ways that actually made me want to try some of these foods I was pretty certain I wouldn't actually like.

I settled on a few new items.  Sugar snap peas: because they had the word sugar in them.  Celery: because I was fairly certain I could drown it in peanut butter if necessary.  Cantaloupe: in case I absolutely couldn't eat the green stuff.  And little cheese wheels: because they were cute, and I saw a commercial about them recently, and... okay, it was a bit of an impulse buy.  

And guess what?  I ate every single item.  It lasted for an entire week, and I took careful mental notes as I went.  

I like the peas; I don't love the pod.  But if I eat them while I correct papers, I several disappear without me realizing I was even eating them.

I like the lighter colored celery better.  Because it tastes like nothing.  The darker green it gets, the more it tastes - well - green.  But I was right; a little peanut butter goes a long way, and like with the peas, I can eat a ton of celery while correcting.  Also, I feel really great about just how much water squishes out when I bite.  If I am supposed to be focusing on high water, celery makes me feel very successful.

Mmm... cantaloupe.  I was worried about it getting too mushy by Friday, but I could still just barely handle it.  This week, I'll eat my cantaloupe by Wednesday to be on the safe side.

And the cheese is perfect to eat when I just can't stand the thought of the last lingering taste being peas.  

Is it working?  I don't really know.  I have a feeling my voice won't be 100% until winter break when I'll have several consecutive days without teaching music.  But I feel pretty proud that at 32 years I'm making changes that hopefully will become a permanent healthy way of eating.  Instead of the veggie cheat I drank for nearly 3 years (12 oz of V8 Fusion for lunch each day), I'm eating the real thing.  Regardless of the effects on vocal health, it has to be a better thing overall.

This week, I'm going to learn to like actual mandarine oranges (not the syrupy kind in a can).  Next week, I think I'm going to attempt cucumbers.  We'll see how that goes.

Yes, it's a new four letter word.

But so far, not an awful one.

I Could Be a Braverman

It's been awhile since I've been able to hang out with my good friends, the Braverman's.  They have limited availability, and Kirk's kind of over them, which makes it all the more difficult.  Well, that and the fact that they are a fictional TV family...

But after a short three-episode marathon while editing 5th grade rough drafts on ways to show courage, the thought occurred to me.  I could be a Braverman.  Not just a random new character added to the cast.  No, in real life, had I made a different choice or two here or there, I really think I could have been any of the four mothers whose fictional lives the story follows.

If I hadn't met Kirk, I could easily have been Sarah.  Flighty.  Spontaneous.  Unable to stick to one passion for longer than a year or two.  And with a past full of painful relationships with artistic men.  The musician.  The English teacher.  The eccentric photographer.  (Kirk already knows my pick would be the English teacher, although the photographer is growing on me.)  But even with Kirk's grounding influence in my life, I still see a lot of Sarah Braverman in me.  She cries when frustrated.  She gets hurt much more easily than she gets angry, and she cares way too much about what other people think of her.

I think I most frequently relate to Kristina.  She gets a little crazy when she's passionate about something, including how people treat her children.  She's organized and methodical, and kind of like a freight train once she gets started.  She always thinks she's right, and she'll fight until she's proved it to everyone else.  Which means she's generally a ball of stress and fighting a battle with someone.  But the part of Kristina that intrigues me most is her career in politics.  She has such cool jobs!  She was recently offered a position as campaign manager for a mayoral candidate.  Which she turned down.  To run for mayor.  Could I be that Kristina?  I don't know.  But I can certainly admire how her education prepared her for whatever choices she might want to make in the future.

And then there's Julia.  Early on in the series, Julia was a bit of a work-a-holic whose husband Joel was Mr. Mom.  She was a great mom when she was home, but Joel handled a lot of the parenting.  Sound familiar?  Now, however, Julia is a stay-at-home mother who is struggling with the desire to also have a career.  Although she is a strong business woman, she never seems confident in personal decisions.  And her persistent fear that her career will get in the way of her family?  Well, that's something I have cried about, too.

I considered not including Jasmine.  I think she's mean.  And bossy.  And once, she and Crosby broke up because she got so crazy about how to load the dishwasher.  And then I realized it - sometimes I'm mean.  And bossy.  And lots of times I go crazy about stupid things like dishwashers.  The difference is that I married better, and so instead of escalating my crazy, Kirk knows how to bring it down.  I'm going to tell myself I'm not Jasmine (and hope it's true).  But I'm pretty sure that when I get woken up in the middle of the night, it's all Jasmine for a few minutes.  Just ask Kirk!

Interestingly, I always feel like I relate to the worst in each of these women.  Flighty like Sarah.  Controlling like Kristina.  Stretched thin like Julia.  Bossy like Jasmine.  But in the men of the Braverman family, I see all the traits I love about Kirk.  Realistic like Adam.  Compassionate like Joel.  Okay - maybe I don't see much of Crosby, but that's okay since I think he escalates Jasmine's crazy.

I could be a Braverman.  But with Kirk, I am something better.  I'm a Fife.

I need to get a new picture with Kirk and his blonde wife!

Hmm... I didn't expect this post to go all cheesy...

Miss Carew

I've been Miss Carew for 21 days now.  It happened when I bleached my hair and my students kind of freaked, and everyone decided it would be easier to accept an alter-ego than a blonde Mrs. Fife.

I'm not Miss Carew all the time.  In fact, since Jekyll & Hyde opened, I've spent only 7% of each week wearing her clothing and saying her lines.  The rest of the time, despite the new moniker, I really am Mrs. Fife, Mom, Sis. Fife, or Andrea as the situation warrants.

But similar to the way I often get sucked into the world of a fantasy novel that I can't quite escape until its completion, I frequently catch my daydreams off in 19th century London.  I've woken up beside Kirk, confused at how Emma got into such a bed.  And I find myself already reluctant to leave Emma behind when the show closes next week.

This has never happened to me before.

In fact, I've kind of prided myself on the truthful statement that I've never been sad on a closing night.  I am fairly certain that in one week's time, I will no longer be able to brag.

I won't miss the cast.  That sounds terrible, I know, but I've been doing this a really long time, and I know that I never do.  I also know that the theater community is small, and Facebook makes it smaller, and we will all "play" again someday.

I won't miss the time commitment.  The late nights.  The ringlets and costumes.  The mic checks.  The declined social invitations.  The corset.  The carefully planned potty breaks.

But I will miss Emma.

Which is strange, because if I am being totally honest, she was not the part I'd hoped for.  I love theater because I get the opportunity to be people I could never be in real life, and this time around (like every other female who auditioned), I'd hoped to play Lucy.  Having played previous ensemble roles as a "saloon girl," I'd discovered that it's pretty fun to get to be promiscuous on stage.  And in my mind, the "good girl" Emma just didn't seem like as much fun.

However, I knew I loved Emma songs, so when the opportunity to play Emma came, I happily accepted it.  I had no idea how difficult it would be for me to identify with her character.  And I had no idea that the harder I worked to try to portray her the way I thought she should be, the more I would come to like the fictional person I had become.

The main theme of Jekyll & Hyde is one of duality - the idea that every person has two sides, and that they only choose to show the side they want to show.  This, an opening number suggested, is called "the facade."  And this is something I could relate well to, especially when one considers my recent post (remember the zocchihedron).  However, Emma is one of the few characters with no facade.  With no agenda.  With pure intent.  While I wish I could say I'm just like Emma, I am not.

Not only is Emma remarkably straightforward, she is selflessly caring and dotes on those she loves.  Again... wish I could say that is me.  Nope.  Not me.  Because of this, I had a really hard time relating to the relationships between Emma and Henry Jekyll and between Emma and her father.  But with lots of thought and trial, I finally found the tenderness in those relationships.  And suddenly, like the way I've cared about my favorite characters in a trilogy, I found myself caring surprisingly deeply about Henry and Sir Danvers.

And so, I will miss the characters.  It is going to be strange when I never again get to look at "my father" with what Michelle calls my "silly daddy," look.  When Emma's lifelong argument with Sir Danvers over how to proceed with her life concludes for the final time.

Someone recently asked me if it is emotional for me when Henry dies in my arms at "our" wedding.  I explained that surprisingly that scene is not nearly as emotional for me as the one in Henry's lab where in her one moment of selfishness, or weakness, or strength, Emma decides to leave Henry on his own.  I think it hurts me so much to walk out because that self-centered-ness is the moment to which I most naturally relate.  And so I will miss Emma's more simple times with the love of her life.  I will miss her easy, selfless devotion to both Henry and his work.  I will miss being the calm in someone else's storm.

I will miss Emma's willingness to show her uncertainty.  When she is worried, she says so.  When she has nothing left to give, she says so.  When she's wrong, she says so.  I will just miss feeling so what-you-see-is-what-you-get.  I've tried to learn that from Emma, but I don't think I've succeeded yet.

But Emma has changed me in other ways.  I hug now.  Naturally.  And what's funny is that it seems to be awkward for everyone else, because most people know I'm not much of a hugger.  I actually really hope I'm able to keep that ability when the show is over.  It has been pretty nice to have a way of showing people that I care about them.  I also think more.  As I've tried to figure out how Emma should love Henry, I've also had some pretty great opportunities to think about how Andrea could love Kirk better.  I hope that stays, too.

Probably one of Emma's best qualities is that she knows the story really isn't about her.  She's there to help both the fictional characters and the audience like Henry.  She's there to provide a contrast to Lucy.  She's there to help others reach their potential.  Oh, how I could stand to learn that from Emma!  I'm going to miss being a contributing factor to something so much bigger than myself.  Sure, the reviewers keep saying it is a Halloween show.  But I know better.  It is the story of good and evil.  A story of agency.  A story of friendship and sacrifice.  A story in which I am so grateful to get to play  a part.  I hope I can remember that.  I hope that as Andrea I can work toward being that grateful to play each role in my life.
 

I will be sad when Emma looks down naively on the poor for the last time.  When Emma and Henry can no longer get lost in each other at the engagement party.  When Sir Danvers gives a final hug to his only daughter.  When Emma has made her last decision to remain faithfully devoted to Dr. Jekyll.  And when Henry Jekyll dies in Emma's arms - and I realize the finality that this time he's really gone.

The change away from Miss Carew will be gradual.  I will put away her costumes.  I'll probably put at least some brown back in my hair.  Henry and Sir Danvers will be replaced by Eric and Matt.  My students will go back to calling me Mrs. Fife.  And Emma will fade away into my memory.

But I'll keep her earrings.  I'll wear her boots to the Dickens Festival.  Her wedding flowers will probably sneak their way into a hairdo or two.  And hopefully, a part of her goodness will continue to change me until I can be all the things I admire in her.

I know she's total fiction.  She's not even in the Robert Louis Stevenson novel.  She's not real.  But I will miss Miss Carew.