Reasons Why I Can't Possibly Hate My Job

1.  I work with cool people.  Some from my office are like family, some from my schools are good friends.


2.  I get to watch teenagers with developmental disabilities go from being ninth graders (really, who likes ninth graders?... especially the boys? my theory is that ninth grade boys are ninth grade boys are ninth grade boys, and no amount of intellectual ability is going to improve on that fact) to functioning, semi-rational adults who can do a job and do it well.


3.  Sometimes I get to celebrate the successes of those students in front of their families, teachers and higher level district types.  Last month I got to honor two of my students who are exiting high school this year.  One is going to work on a yard crew for a sheltered workshop.  His dad was just in awe that the time he has spent with C doing weekend chores has led to his success.  (To really understand C's progress, you should know that he was instrumental in changing his school's policy for working off-site.  And not in a positive way.  In large part because of his community and social behaviors, it was determined that students who were entering the program had to stay on campus the first year... ahh, those freshmen boys!)  He used his $100 "scholarship" to buy steel toed boots.  The other student, J, has been accepted at a day program for artists.  (Getting into this program from our area practically requires an act of congress because of funding.)  Eh, he used his money to buy a graduation hat with mouse ears at Disneyland... and some pens, but most of his work is Disney-esque, so it makes sense.


4.  Occasionally I know that the money my students earn helps out their family.  Sad, but gratifying.


5.  I take pride in the fact that, while most of our jobs are small (500-5000 pieces), and for people and companies you've never heard of, we are also linked with the nation's largest mass mailer (aside from the government) and, through them, to one of the only car companies that grew during the recession and all those automotive recalls.  This week we started assembling envelope boxes... 120,000 envelope boxes.  We should be done before the end of the month, and we're not even using half of our students.  It's the sort of job that has to be done, but no one really wants to do it, and my kids are rockin' through 'em!


Oh sure, there are hard days and annoyances and... you know, sometimes parents who want to have their child's best interest at heart can come off like complete social morons.


And then there are days like yesterday, when I helped chaperone a bunch of middle schoolers *shudder* (who knew there was something worse than ninth graders?!?) at "Education Day."  What's that?  Well, that's when a bunch of schools are invited to a low-cost day at the minor league ballpark in one of the towns where I work.  Turns out that about 60% of my classes were there, too.  So I spent the day watching baseball, chatting with people I already like to hang out with and wrangling the occasional bratty girl.  (It was always a girl.)


I sent Tom a couple of photos messages.


"Another tough day at the office"

"What about this view?  Wish you were here."

Not sure why he never responded.

Going Green

Um... no, I'm not talking about getting all environmentally friendly*, I'm talking about putting in a lawn.  In our yard.  Uh, yeah... in the desert.

*We are mostly environmentally friendly people.  If you saw the vegetable graveyard... er, compost pile we have out back, or know that we frequently recycle twice as much as we throw away... I've even made five or six trips to recycle concrete... you'd know that.  I just need a little green, soft, cool, slightly damp lawn to walk, sit or play upon.

Getting the lawn wasn't exactly high drama, but there has been some drama surrounding our yard.  Last fall when I (finally) went to register Maisy, I learned that we have a $460 lien on the property.  Why?  Because there was dead grass in the yard.  All of the city's records stopped just over a month before we bought the place (staff shortage), so technically, we're not responsible for it.  Dave, our realtor, has been working with the escrow and title companies to get it resolved. 

We had a small amount of hope that the title company would pay to have our lawn put in, but they are standing by the fact that the city didn't report that lien (there was another larger lien for something else, but that had been reported and handled).

Nine or 10 months ago, Tom ripped out all of the dead lawn.  We thought we'd have no problem getting a new lawn in before the real heat of summer, but then the truck conked out and we now have a second massive car payment.  Functioning cars (both are hybrids... we're environmentally friendly, I tell ya!) or lawn?  It was a tough choice, but I guess the right one was made.

Now that winter's over, and we still have that lien hanging, it was time to do some yard work.  Dave thinks he can get the city to drop the fee as long as the work has been done.  Can I just admit here that I'm glad for the lien because it meant doing the lawn before we otherwise would have?  Don't tell Tom... or Dave.

So we had some sod delivered...

Did a little gardening,

(Okay, some of us might have done more intense, hard labor)

And some of us might have dragged our feet more than we should have (and we still didn't get to go see Amber again, dang it all!),  

But in the end, a lawn was made.

I am more sore than I've been in years, but it was good to work side by side with Tom and have something to show for it.  He did most of the truly hard stuff.  Corey (mostly) cleared the spot on the other side of the driveway and picked up rocks and debris that came out of our yard (a four foot length of rusted metal? really?).  I cut open all the bags of topper and topsoil and did most of the sod cutting (edges and sprinklers).  And I swept dirt for what seemed like days.  Tom did pretty much everything else.

My dad and Margaret showed up at 8:00 last night when they'd heard we were struggling to wrap things up.  I could have cried.  Margaret took control of Madelyn and wrangled our downstairs floor into shape while Corey made dinner.  Dad helped lay sod and used the roller.  As soon as it was done, they were out of here.  They took a two hour drive (round trip) to help us.

We've definitely learned our lesson.  We didn't think we'd need much help (a brother-in-law helped us get all of the non-sod components home), and the backyard will be a much larger project (digging sprinkler trenches in clay? should be fun); we didn't want to ask for help too often.

I have already sent out an email to our local-ish friends and family.  We probably won't get to the backyard until next year, so they can either move far, far away, or be ready for the Bat Signal.