It's gonna be a picture in a minute...of a cow.
That is the message dictated for my mother's day card. For some reason, this amuses me beyond all logic. Its not just that my kid is cute (for she is) but that the actual sentiment makes me chuckle--and not just because it is in no way a mother's day sentiment. Its kinda like the "For your birthday, I grew you a cat" card that I adore. (It is my favorite store-bought card.) I'm not making sense. I'm good with that.
My mother's day was perfect. Breakfast in bed (WITH ECLAIRES!!!). Good coffee. Two kinds of crepes. A non-whiney toddler. No housework. And a cute skirt in a size 12 that fits nicely. All told, a good day.
Of course I've now gained six pounds. So I can have no more food-inspired good days for a bit. I'm theoretically supposed to be LOOSING weight. Not so much recently. Working in a place that provides unlimited FREE child-friendly food is not the dieting woman's friend. UGH.
On another note, I did math. (Shock of shock) I like my job well enough. I really like being able to keep tabs on my kid. Check on her, pick her up early, know her teachers, HEAR her if she's frantic. I like seeing her throughout the day, even if its only for a few minutes. And I really like actually _knowing_ what's going on in her classroom. So I did the math. The discount I recieve for working at the center is $7600 a year. (Shit, child care is expensive!) If I get a raise and move to full time, I should make around $25K a year. Functionally, that means I'm comparing a job here at $32K to a public school job at $35K. Oh, and staying here would spare me the expense of going back to school. Also, I don't actually _have_ a public school job and Chicago is closing schools and firing teachers. Also, there's a teacher leaving in the next classroom The Miss would move to, so if I left, I'd be giving her to a sitation I am not familiar with. So, I offered to stay...for a raise. They need teachers. Even more than I realized. I'm not sure I made the right decision. I'm not sure of anything right now. But its not like taking a job writes it in stone. I'll find out Wednesday what the offer is. Wish me luck.
In other news, it is likely that I will have to find time to do physical therapy for my ankle. Where this time is supposed to come from, I have no idea.
My mother's day was perfect. Breakfast in bed (WITH ECLAIRES!!!). Good coffee. Two kinds of crepes. A non-whiney toddler. No housework. And a cute skirt in a size 12 that fits nicely. All told, a good day.
Of course I've now gained six pounds. So I can have no more food-inspired good days for a bit. I'm theoretically supposed to be LOOSING weight. Not so much recently. Working in a place that provides unlimited FREE child-friendly food is not the dieting woman's friend. UGH.
On another note, I did math. (Shock of shock) I like my job well enough. I really like being able to keep tabs on my kid. Check on her, pick her up early, know her teachers, HEAR her if she's frantic. I like seeing her throughout the day, even if its only for a few minutes. And I really like actually _knowing_ what's going on in her classroom. So I did the math. The discount I recieve for working at the center is $7600 a year. (Shit, child care is expensive!) If I get a raise and move to full time, I should make around $25K a year. Functionally, that means I'm comparing a job here at $32K to a public school job at $35K. Oh, and staying here would spare me the expense of going back to school. Also, I don't actually _have_ a public school job and Chicago is closing schools and firing teachers. Also, there's a teacher leaving in the next classroom The Miss would move to, so if I left, I'd be giving her to a sitation I am not familiar with. So, I offered to stay...for a raise. They need teachers. Even more than I realized. I'm not sure I made the right decision. I'm not sure of anything right now. But its not like taking a job writes it in stone. I'll find out Wednesday what the offer is. Wish me luck.
In other news, it is likely that I will have to find time to do physical therapy for my ankle. Where this time is supposed to come from, I have no idea.