The ABCs of Me - A is for Anxiety

A is for Anxiety, Part One

So, to start this blog series off, I'm just going to jump right into the deep end.

I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder in 1999. Here's what happened...

Sometime in late 1993, I began working as a residential caregiver in group homes. For the first five years, I worked with two clients, both relatively high functioning, and it was mostly one-on-one care. We had a really great staff team, and I found that I really loved the work. When that company folded in 1998, I moved over to my boss' other, larger company. I began working with a variety of adults and minors, in a number of settings, both residential and occupational, and on a broad spectrum of disabilities. It was the most rewarding work I had ever done. I was making a positive difference in the lives of others. In addition to it being a great job, it paid well, had benefits, and I liked my co-workers.

I had seen my share of violent behaviour in the workplace; I had a client threaten to self-harm with a large kitchen knife (it was an empty threat, but I disarmed him and locked up all implements that could be used for harm as a safety measure), almost got hit with a kettle full of boiling water (a co-worker took it in the back), been scratched, etc. This was just part of the job in some cases. Our company was pro-active and gave us yearly classes on non-violent crisis intervention, teaching us how to deal with and de-escalate behaviour, and if that didn’t work, how to get out of choke holds, limb holds, hair grabs, bites, how to use a violent client’s own kinetic energy to avoid injury, and how to properly subdue a client to restore calm. I felt confident that I could avoid serious injury in the workplace as a result.

Experiencing Technical Difficulties

I love having a blog, I really do.

But maintaining it has been difficult of late due to the series of problems we've been having with our computers.

We are working on getting a functioning computer (one that doesn't run like molasses in January), so I hope I can get back to posting more regularly this week. To that end, I will be starting a new post theme: the ABCs of me. This will focus on one thing about me and my life, starting at the beginning of the alphabet and ending, well, at the end. I hope that you folks still hanging in there with me will enjoy learning more about me, and I'd love to learn more about you in the comments section.

Cheers!

Turning Petrified Mini-Doughnuts Into Perfect Dessert!

Hubby's favourite dessert is bread pudding.

In our almost 8 years together, I've made it for him exactly zero times.  Whenever we've eaten French Toast and had leftovers, Hubby has diligently saved them in so many Ziploc bags in the freezer, waiting for the day he would be rewarded for his thoughtfulness. And every 6 months or so, I go through the freezers and toss out those frozen relics of brunches past, sighing at the waste of perfectly good bread and egg, cinnamon and vanilla extract.

Sure, I've talked about making it innumerable times over the years, but since I've never made it before in my life, I found the task somewhat daunting.

Until today.

I was teaching Secunda and her friend how to use our Epicure Mini-Doughnut Mold to make yummy little treats (which will be served at my weekly social get-together tomorrow), giving them measuring, mixing, order of cooking operations and oven skills. For instance, they learned today to ensure that ALL the ingredients are ready before you start mixing stuff together all willy-nilly. I rescued the batter, and made three dozen of the little bites of heaven. But I managed to bugger up one batch of them. I had a bowl full of two dozen soft, chewy cake doughnuts, and a dozen hockey pucks. they smelled lovely - all sugar and vanilla and cinnamon. And totally inedible in their current state. It seemed such a shame.  That got me to thinking, and that thinking got me to an idea. Why not break them up and turn them into an improvised bread pudding?

These were the doughnuts that get to stay doughnuts

So, off I went to Allrecipes.ca, my go-to resource for all of the things I don't know how to cook.  And when I typed in the keywords, this recipe is what came out with both the highest rating, and the most reviews. Clearly, this was the place to start.

I used their conversion feature to alter it to feed two people (I don't know about you, but I can certainly eat 6 mini-doughnuts in one sitting!) and headed into the kitchen. In about five minutes, I was ready to put the baking dish into the oven.

Using our boiling pasta pot to melt the butter

Mixing the egg/milk/cinnamon mixture with the broken-up doughnuts

Ready for the oven

This was SOOO easy! Now I just have to wait for Hubby to get home from choir practice so we can enjoy it with a nice, hot cuppa!

All baked and waiting for the vanilla sauce!

Delectable caramelized vanilla sauce - delish!

Making The World A Little More Compassionate

I finally feel like I'm on the other side of what has been one of the most stressful times in my life; the strike/lockout of BC teachers, stalled negotiations, and the absolute financial uncertainty that goes along with it. As a result of it, and other situations I've experienced in my nearly 43 years on this planet, perhaps I've become a little hyper-aware of when people are going through emotional difficulties. Either that, or it's happening way more than before.

Of late, I've been noticing an alarming number of friends on my Facebook newsfeed sharing their troubles online. Let me clarify; I am not alarmed that they are sharing their troubles, but I *am* alarmed by just how many people seem to be facing hardship right now. And it's not just money. These beloved friends are laying themselves open and sharing their feelings of anxiety and depression. And it breaks my heart to see them going through that. I want to help, and I feel like I'm in a unique position to do so. I should explain...

Right in the Feels

Not sure if it was the sentimental tone of Call the Midwife tonight, or that I'm traversing the last week of BC pills this cycle, or that when my hand slid down the month of June on my new calendar as I wrote in peoples' birthdays, that it rested for a moment on June 29th, my Bumma's (grandma) birthday and I remembered that it's coming up to 10 years since I needed to write it down; for whatever reason, I'm feeling very emotional tonight, and I can't quite put my finger on it. And I'm sitting here, swiping absently at the errant tears slipping down my cheeks as I try to see straight enough to write this. And then the oddest thought pops into my head - that if my high school English teacher were to read this, she'd have to fight hard not to chastise me for my atrocious syntax.

I think that it might be my mind's way of steering me away from feeling all the feels, and gently guiding me back to a more comfortable place, the place where a wry smile, a shrug of the shoulders and a little laugh, along with a cup of tea make whatever weighs on me just that little bit easier to shoulder.

I don't know why it is that I'm trying to hold this in check, to keep the quaver out of my voice when talking to Rick so he doesn't spend the next 20 minutes trying to coax what's wrong out of me, because I don't think I need long hugs, or to wallow, or anything like that. I honestly don't know why I feel sad tonight, and that's okay.

Looking forward to a brighter day tomorrow.

Fun With Felt: Flower Barrettes Tutorial

Secunda and I were brainstorming the other day, trying to figure out gift ideas that she could make for her friends for Christmas. An initial perusal of some kids' craft books showed me that most of those crafts are a bit below her skill level, so I headed over to Pinterest to find something more in keeping with our skill set. What we decided on was making felt hair accessories, and here is the tutorial for our first project, felt flowers!

Step 1 - This is all you'll need: six (6) small circles of felt (I used a glucose test strip bottle to trace the first one, then used it as a template to cut the others out), thread in a complementary colour, needle and scissors.

A Bump in the Road

So, we've now experienced the first bump on Tertius' academic road...
When I dropped him off at Kindergarten today, there were no parents milling about outside the drop-off location. I found that odd, and assumed that we were later than I thought. I hurried Tertius and his little sister inside, and down to his classroom. All of the parents were stuffed into the room, as well as all the kids, two teachers, at least one EA and the vice-principal. It was chaotic in there, with so many bodies crammed into a space designed for no more than a couple dozen.

Once it seemed that everyone had arrived, the vice-principal thanked everyone for staying and began to explain why he was there. He announced that since the school had had lower than expected enrollment at the primary level, the district had decided to cut a teaching position at the school. As the newest teacher on staff, that meant that Tertius' teacher was being let go. If enrollment had been high enough in the other primary grades, they could have moved her around to another grade. BC teachers are all certified for K-12; they do try to place teachers in settings that they took specific training for, such as middle years or secondary, but they can teach any grade. Unfortunately, at our school, the numbers just weren't there.

My first, and most important question was to find out about Kindergarten enrollment. I had concerns, because I know that there is a hard cap of 22 students for Kindergarten. Still, I had visions of the school having to stuff 55 Kindy students into two classrooms as a result of this decision. The vice-principal assured me that they only have 43 Kindergarten students, so they're just barely under the class size limits for two classes. The VP also said that the school admin had gone to bat for her, but the district had final say. He encouraged parents to contact the district if they had any questions or concerns.

It was clear to me that Ms. M. was visibly upset, but she did a remarkable job of holding it together for her students. She can't have had more that 24 hours' notice of this. I asked the parents assembled to please give Ms M. a round of applause, and I hope that it communicated to her how much we appreciate how well she had prepared our children for school already, and how much we dislike the decision of the school district. I've written up a thank you card for her, and will be giving her a scarf that I made as a farewell gift when I pick Andrew up this afternoon. I'm actually in tears as I type this, and I'm not sure if I'm more upset for my son, or for his teacher.


Now Ms. M. is a DIT (District Initiated Transfer). She is owed a job by the district; if there is no job, she is placed on the TOC (Teacher on Call) list as a priority TOC, which means that she will be one of the first teachers called every day, as the district has to pay her, regardless of whether she works or not. I imagine that the district will want her TOCing as many days as possible, to avoid being out of pocket for a teacher who is being paid, but not working.

This creates a trickle-down effect for every other teacher on the TOC list. Teachers all get bumped further down on the list when there is a DIT on the TOC roster; DITs get first dibs on call-outs, and there are going to be new teachers who will have a harder time making ends meet until she is in a contract position. I know how this works – my husband did his time in the TOC trenches. In fact, while he has Continuing status, he does not yet have his own contract, and this is his seventh year in this district. Our school district is one of a handful that have been consistently showing modest growth over the last decade, but with districts having to stretch the insufficient government funding as far as it can go, classes get filled to their limits, staff get shuffled around within the schools, and that doesn't necessarily translate into more teaching jobs.


But for today, I can't concern myself with the larger picture. Today, I am the mother of a little boy whose school world just got turned upside down. By the time I pick him up after lunch, Tertius will have had to move to a different classroom, acquaint himself with a new environment, learn different routines and spend some time building rapport with a new teacher, along with 20 other kids.

What seems like a small change to the adults making the decisions is actually a monumental adjustment that they are expecting 4 and 5 year old children to just take in stride. I foresee some tears and confusion, and a lot of time comforting and explaining in the near future. And I don't know how long it will be before he can start to feel settled in school.

That's a lot to put on a little boy.