Every now and again I catch myself wondering about the more distant future, not the middle one -- where I am certain to be the inappropriately flamboyant & embarrassingly geriatric mom of a teenage young man -- but the one in which Django has already found his own niche(s) in the world. For the most part, these mental meanderings of mine are classic, narcissistic, and idealistic self-projection on progeny. You know the kind, the I-always-thought-I-might-have-a-knack-for-[blank]-but-I-never-did-fully-explore-it-&-I-think-he-will!
But every now and again, I have the distinct impression I'm actually catching a glimpse of some raw talent, some unique perspective Django has on the world. I have given up (for the moment) trying to explain the more elaborate things he says that give me this feeling. Instead, I offer to you this small collection of photos he's taken all by himself. And when I say "all by himself," I really mean all by himself -- no coaching, no cajoling, no here-let-me-hold-the-camera-while-you-push-the-button. All Django, all the way.
I'd be very interested to hear what these photos say to you.
"There comes a time in the day that no matter what the question...the answer is wine." -- Erin Smith Calendar, May 2010
I reached the above-mentioned time of day at about 2:30p this afternoon -- shortly after Django & Savanna refused to nap, despite my best attempts to cajole, browbeat and/or bribe them into it. The whole failed endeavor ended on a particularly sour note for me, when Django shouted up quite cheerfully from downstairs (where he'd been giggling and pussyfooting in my bed with Savanna for well over half an hour, I might add): "Sorry I peed in your bed again, Mama. Please change my diaper right now." The situation quickly went from bad to worse during the neighborhood walk we took instead, in which a brief squabble over turns driving a pretend school bus at the local used children's clothing store turned into a full-throttle, 45-minute temper tantrum, all the way home and then some. But, for the record, I resisted the urge to open my much-needed bottle of wine until I sat down here to type, at around 8p...The little guy, in case you're wondering, was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow at 7:10p.
These are days to remember. And also to forget.
Speaking of remembering, forgetting, and all the terrible confusion in-between, I recently finished reading a Po Bronson book I found in a free book box. You know the kind, the one in which you see a certain book and think, I should grab that, because you read or heard something somewhere, about something else entirely, by the same author? And then you think, No I shouldn't, because it's probably crap and I won't read it anyway? But you do (grab it) and you do (somehow read it) and in retrospect it seems like it was 'meant to be'? Yeah, well, I love that because it makes me feel like there's a beneficent cosmic radio station always broadcasting somewhere, even if I can only occasionally tune in with my receiver. But I hate it, too, because it also makes me feel like a New Age/Hippie. Back to the point, though, I found Po Bronson's "Why Do I Love these People" to be an absolutely spell-binding book. A daunting one, too. It's chock-full of incredible stories of family & personal resilience. Almost every story made me think, on some level, Wow. Could I overcome that?I seriously doubt it!
In other words, the stories in that book forced me to get a little -- no, ok, a lot -- more real about what it takes to be a good role model for family. So far, I think my chances of achieving such a thing are about as good as my chances of winning the lottery. But I keep trying to remind myself that, like the lottery, you can't win if you don't play.
So we play...As you can see here for yourself, we play in science museums, swimming pools, explorer's coves, patio chairs, rain puddles, kitchen tables, sunny streets and zoo windows. We play with sculptures and friends and balls and relatives and wigs and mirrors and buttons and rocks and water and baskets and worms and blocks and scissors and tape and paint and wild animals. Oh, we do play. And even though I hope that nothing more traumatic than a 45-minute tantrum ever happens to our family, if a time comes when something does, I sure hope all the loving, happy, wonder-filled moments that have gone before become glue that holds us each and all together. That would be the ultimate jackpot.
"As much as I try to be an easygoing, spread your wings and fly type...I just can't stop trying to burst people into flames with my mind."
-- Erin Smith Calendar, March 2010
Dear Hiring Committee:
My name is Kara Daillak. As you will see from my resume, I have been teaching elementary school for the past 8 years, primarily in the San Francisco Unified School District. I am currently working at Sanchez Elementary – where I’ve spent 5 of my 8 years in the field – in a .5 FTE position as a Literacy Specialist. Unfortunately, continued funding for this position is not available next school year. I am now seeking new employment because my family obligations leave me unable to work the additional "Dream School" hours required by the 1.0 FTE positions that are available at Sanchez for the 2010-2011 school year. I will be sad to leave Sanchez at the end of 2009-2010. Yet, I have seen and heard of so many wonderful schools around the State, I am excited to have the chance to become part of another community of dedicated, invigorated and forward-thinking educators at a different site.
Though I currently hold only a Multiple Subject credential with CLAD emphasis, I am interested in a wide range of teaching positions from .5 - 1.0 FTE, and from PreK – 12th, both within and outside the classroom, in regular public schools as well as alternative.I believe I have all of the organizational skills, instructional experience, inherent resourcefulness and enthusiasm necessary to make an excellent teacher in any of these contexts. I am also willing to seek whatever additional certification might be necessary for any position I believe suits my strengths and motivations.
In my mind, what is most important as I contemplate this change in professional venue is exactly what was most important to me when I went back to school to earn my teaching credential after a 5-year career in employment law. I want to continue to be directly and personally engaged in work that has a positive impact on society – work that makes me feel challenged but also hopeful and successful – together with a group of people energized by that same goal. I know there are dozens of school sites that might provide me with this kind of opportunity. I hope yours is the one.
Please feel free to contact me with any further questions.
Thank you, in advance, for considering my application,
Kara Daillak
P.S.
I should also probably explain that I am the only-parent to an almost 2.5 year old boy who is – without a doubt – the most delightful person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. And I would move heaven & earth, go anywhere, do anything, present any rough edge of mine to you as if it were completely polished, in order to secure employment that would allow me to spend at least half of my usual workweek 'working' for him. He's that important. Way more important than any job. Ever. Except that I need a regular job, of course, to be able to provide for him, to take him places like Chicago in the middle of winter, and buy him 'essential' things like pretend rabbit ears for playing, rainbow cupcake ingredients for baking, hooded sweaters for evening hikes, doll strollers for racing, dinners out (unfortunately including ones where he might end up chipping more teeth,) and stroller rain covers for fogging with warm breath. Still, I promise you, I make a GREAT employee -- except or unless, my mind is on other things, like the loss of my beloved pet rabbit or some weird dreams I had while I really wasn't sleeping or whether the dvds from the library are overdue already. So you should feel totally confident about hiring me. Really. Please?
“Your boots may be made for walking, but mine are in case I need to kick your ass”
So says the calendar on my wall, the one Aunt Jenny gave me for Christmas this past year, and every time I read it I chuckle. It hits one of those funny bones somewhere between how I used to think of myself a lot of the time and how I always hoped other people thought of me. Kinda tough, kinda witty, and at the very least bold. But anyone I’ve ever loved would tell you straight away I’m also full of a whole lotta hooey, i.e., I am, and always have been, as soft as they come.
I do still think of myself as plenty fierce and formidable, when I have time to think of myself at all. But I often feel more ragged than rugged, less put-together than thrown – in all regards. I remember once, several months ago now, when something compelled me to ask Bubba Mike what he thought about the ways motherhood had changed me. His reply started with, “Well, motherhood has certainly taken the luster off you…,” at which point I remember having two very forceful, and distinct, reactions: 1) Ouch! and 2) Really, I used to have ‘luster’?
It’s no secret that every mother grapples with the ways she has ‘let herself go.’ And if there is a mother reading this right now saying to herself, not me, or, I haven’t let myself go, or even, I don’t care about any of the ways I let myself go – then, I say, you’ve missed something extremely important about motherhood, or maybe about personhood. In any case, you missed it…None of the analogies coming to my mind sounds as sincere as I feel about this particular point, so let me try to explain with words from an artwork of Richard Stine’s instead: If you don’t go in, you can’t find out.
Back when I decided to have Django on my own, I anticipated many of the ways life would change. I knew I wouldn’t be freewheelin’ about town at night, training for any triathlons, jet-setting to faraway lands or enjoying the orderly state of my tidy household. It was easy to make a conscious decision to give those things up for awhile. What was harder was contemplating how to avoid giving up on what brought most people a child in the first place – romance. Seeing as how no romance had managed to take root and thrive in my world before Django, I certainly wasn’t confident it could or would after. The best I could do was promise myself that if romantic love was one of the things I ‘let go’ in the process of motherhood, it would need to be one of the things I picked up again. And again, and again, and again, if necessary.
It’s taken me over two years to begin honoring that vow I made, but honoring it I am now. Wish me luck.
January photos: 1) NYE Slumber Party; 2) Rainy Day Breakfast at Katz' Bagels; 3) Sky Ride at the Oakland Zoo; 4) Eating German Chocolate with Rita!; 5) Putting on an Outdoor Puppet Show at the Discovery Museum; 6) Popping a Stroller Wheelie after Zoo Class; 7) Circumnavigating the Little Farm; 8) Who Said Money Can't Buy Happiness?; 9) 3 x 2yos Readying for Bed; 10) Sleeping on the Sippy.
