Thanks for the prayers, friends. My whinefest (not winefest, lol) earlier this week reminded me of Lion from the Sweet Pickles books. I used to love that series! We have a few of them still; I should read one to the boys tonight. At any rate, thanks for bearing with me on a down day.

Yesterday was better – I had lunch with a new friend and had the opportunity to speak to a large group (200-300? I’m not a good judge of crowd counts) of colleagues, which is always exhilarating and fun. I got a sweet email from a friend while I was up on stage (which I read after the program, obviously, but it still made my day!) saying how “small” I looked. LOL – I haven’t been called “small” since … ??? … ever?  😀

I really do love my job, and I want to be excellent at it. I think that I’m pretty good at it, and I know there’s always room for improvement, but there’s just a lot of unspoken pressure on everyone right now. Having a brief moment in the spotlight (literally – I couldn’t see beyond the midpoint of the auditorium!) and receiving verbal praise from colleagues and higher-ups was a much needed boost for me this week. Can you tell that my primary love language is words of affirmation?

Today, I had lunch with another new friend, so my emotional bank of girlfriend time has a healthy balance in it now. It was especially reassuring to hear tales of her 1st grader – who, like ours, also jokes about bodily functions and has a skewed concept of appropriate descriptive words.  😉

All things considered, the stressors are still there, but having a less grumpy attitude makes it seem more bearable.

I’m normally a pretty good juggler – no, not with balls or bowling pins or knives in the air – I mean multi-tasking. Having several things on my plate usually isn’t a big deal. I enjoy staying busy; I like challenges; and, I get bored easily. (I learned rather quickly several years ago that data entry was not my calling in life. I was very good at it but bored out of my gourd.)

However, there are times when the metaphorical balls, pins and knives get tossed into the routine all at once, and I’ve got to keep them all in the air. Right now feels like one of those times. I hesitate to even mention it, because people are always making well-meant comments to me about how they can’t believe all that I have on my plate or how amazed they are that I handle everything the way I do. I appreciate the kudos, but just because I manage it well most of the time does not mean that I never struggle. On the flip side, just because I occasionally struggle with the complexity of my responsibilities does not mean that I shouldn’t have pursued grad school, etc. – basically, to give into the notion that I’m doing too much.

There are sundry reasons why I love my job and an even longer list of the blessings that our family gains from my working at the university. From swimming pool access to retirement contributions, the benefits are very generous. However, when I’m the only one in the household working and the atmosphere at work feels like a daily job interview, there’s tremendous pressure on me (perhaps partly self-imposed, but pressure, just the same):

Suck it up, Self … Do a good job. Do a better job than you’ve ever done before – never mind that foundation & corporate philanthropy is still in the toilet. Don’t lose your job! Set a positive example for your team. Don’t get discouraged. Be a leader. Be a “level 5” leader.

No pressure, Self … it’s not like you have five children to put through college, your job provides tuition remission for them, and everyone is expecting you to take care of that minute, little detail of their young adult lives. It’s only another – what, 17 years? – to keep on keeping on. Never mind the fact that you are at an impasse within this particular career maze, so any advancement would mean retraining, cross-training, transitioning to the faculty side of the house or moving/relocating. Transitioning to the faculty isn’t an option until you finish your doctorate, so here’s hoping you can keep your job for another three years, at least.

For the sake of my team and for the benefit of my division, I’m trying to have a positive outlook. (There are enough naysayers out there who don’t have the tact to keep quiet in public … then again, one could argue that this blog is public … my stats would beg to differ, but whatever … I’ll gladly discuss my thoughts in a professional and polite manner with anyone who desires an explanation.) I can’t create grant awards out of thin air (yet this certainly isn’t the environment to make “excuses,” regardless of how market-driven and data-validated those reasons may be), but we’re busting tail to research new prospects and streamline our systems to give us the best advantage possible.

Meanwhile, there’s a guy standing against the wall with an apple balanced haphazardly on his head, and I’m tempted to unload some of my juggling burden with a little knife-throwing target practice (facetiously speaking, of course).

Pray for me, friends.

I’m not a tightwad when it comes to philanthropy. Granted, I don’t have gobs of cash to give away, but when we do our taxes each year, the DIY software error-checker always prompts: “Are you sure this Charitable Gifts amount is correct? It is above the national average.” Wow, then the national average sucks.

All that is to say: getting me to fork over $6 for PTA membership should not be a tough sell. I actually meant to do it earlier, but the fact is that I have had so much crap paperwork to fill out for all five boys that I honestly couldn’t remember if I had joined or not.

I had to skim through the check registry to see if I had sent in payment. I remembered that I joined the parent-teacher group at the little ones’ private school, because it’s a nonprofit organization, I know that the funds are needed and I actually remember writing that check (I don’t write very many nowadays, since our bill paying is online). Turns out, I forgot to return the PTA forms for the older two who are in public school.

So, there we were, sitting in the 5th grade Parent Orientation tonight and waiting to be dismissed to “class,” when the bubbly PTA lady beamed that $2 of the $6 dues stays at the school. I looked at my husband, paused a moment as I double-checked the math in my head, and mouthed silently: “One-third??” Hmm – since when is 66% overhead considered a good deal for nonprofit giving?!

I went to the Texas PTA website when we got home, and sure enough – the third bullet point in the organization’s purpose says “To secure adequate laws for the care and protection of children and youth.” Don’t get me wrong – I have few qualms about lobbying; I think advocacy is important. What frustrates me is how PTA is marketed at the local level. Why not be upfront and explain that only 1/3 of your dues actually goes to school projects, while 2/3 supports state and federal “advocacy” efforts? I might have still paid the $6, but at least I’d know where my money was going.

I have always paid the dues because I felt like it was important to the school. I don’t have a lot of free time to volunteer, so it seemed like a way that I could help out. This year, however, I don’t think I will. If they need money for new stage curtains or field trips or whatever, then I will send some money as a donation to that project. The same goes with fundraisers – if the school is only going to get a small percentage of the sales, then why bother? So my kid can “earn” some crappy toy that I could have bought at the dollar store for him?! I can just give a donation. I don’t need five “A+ Cards” and two gallons of cookie dough, anyway.

Perhaps this sounds jaded, coming from someone who works as a professional fundraiser. The difference is that gift funds received by the university go directly to the designated project/scholarship. (Research grants, etc., may have overhead expenses, but outright gifts do not.)

I think what it boils down to is that I don’t like the feeling of being duped. If I’d known that only a third of the dues went to the school, then I could have made an informed choice early on. Now that I know, I will make an informed choice now … not to join.

There is never a dull moment around our dinner table; the boys are always sharing stories or asking random questions. Last night, for example, someone asked about what kind of baby food he ate when he was a baby, and the others piped up with suggestions (mushed bananas, peas, “Gerber,” etc.). Out of the blue, the youngest asked, “How do babies get borned, anyway?”

We’ve already had this conversation in-depth with the oldest two, but I was hoping we wouldn’t need to go there with the younger ones quite yet!

All eyes were on me to answer him, so I simply said that God put a special place in women’s bodies for babies to grow and come out when they’re ready to be born. I added that only women can have babies, not men – because our bodies are different.

Trying to be helpful, No. 2 explained, “You know, like how girls have longer hair than boys.” I laughed and said that he needed to see some pictures of 80s rock bands.

No. 1 said, “Yeah, like that guy from KISS.” Exactly.

The conversation detoured to Guitar Hero, at that point, sparing me from any further anatomy inquiries. *Whew!

I vaguely remember a time when weekends were relaxing. There was a seemingly brief period between finishing college and having children when I recall being able to sleep past 8am almost every Saturday. Perhaps in 2023 when the little two graduate from high school, I will buy black-out drapes and sleep until noon.

Speaking of which, my husband has selective hearing. (Don’t they all?) I am often woken up on weekend mornings by a mysterious thud, clang or slam – and he sleeps right through it! The boys have the chance to earn extra paperclips for letting me sleep past sunrise, but even bribery doesn’t always work. Alas, this past Saturday the ruckus was due to one of the 5yos trying to get the gallon jug of milk out of the fridge to fix his own bowl of cereal. Granted, they are allowed to eat breakfast before we get up, IF a) one of the big kids is awake, and b) one of the big kids does the pouring. Apparently, he didn’t want to wait for his big brothers to get around to pouring the milk, so he decided to do it himself.

… Glass bottle of [new] bbq sauce shattered on the kitchen tile.

… Puncture wound in his little palm from trying to dispose of the evidence bare-handed.

… Trip to urgent care to see if the deep cut needed stitches.

Thankfully, there was no glass left in the wound, and they recommended glue over stitches. Hopefully someone has learned his lesson that there’s a reason why we say certain things are for the big kids to do!

On Sunday, we had a repeat performance – although, thankfully, no injuries this time ! No. 3 dropped his rice bowl (we use primarily plastic dishes, but we use ceramic rice bowls for small servings), and it, too, shattered on the kitchen floor. It was empty, and it broke into large pieces, but I immediately hollered, “Freeze!” which made him cry, b/c he thought he was in trouble. I tried to explain that I didn’t want him to step in it and get cut. I swept up the busted bowl and chalked it up to another excuse to visit the Asian food market the next time we’re in Dallas.

Someone asked me in the elevator at work, “How was your weekend?” Hahaha – how do I even begin to answer questions like that?

I don’t understand spammers. Perhaps I’m naive, but are there actually people out there who purchase “R0lexx waches” and “VIAGrra” pills from an unknown source that they receive via email? Do otherwise rational human beings actually give their credit card info online to a link from an email that is ridden with Engrish errors? Surely, someone must, because I can’t fathom what the incentive is for these idiots to continue sending spam messages.

On a side note, whoever recorded the voice of “Rachel from Cardmember Services” should hang her head in shame and work hard labor for the rest of her days. I can’t stand her, and I am going to file a complaint report with the Do Not Call list every stinkin’ time she calls. Our home number has been on the Do Not Call list since the registry opened, and I added our cell numbers to it, as well.

For the record, I happen to like Spam – the food, not the annoying emails & phone calls. I once won the girls’ division of a Spam pizza-eating contest in my high school youth group. (It was ham pizza w/slices of Spam added to it). I know, I know – that may not be a title I should be proud of, but hey – we all did silly things in high school, right?

… would still smell like eau de wet dog after a romp in the sprinkler. (My apologies to the Bard for butchering Juliet’s musings.) Despite my best attempt at being organized for the first week of school, I neglected to look at the boys’ take-home folders last night, which meant scrambling this morning to check worksheets, announcements, etc.

Five minutes before they needed to walk out the door, I pulled two identical fill-in-the-blank (more like short essay) forms from the kindergarteners’ folders. They’ve been reading Chrysanthemum by Kevin Henkes and talking about how special names are. The worksheet asked parents to explain a) how the child’s name was chosen and b) how it suits them perfectly.

Oi vey. I couldn’t even recall the exact meaning of the first name of the one to whom I gave birth, much less my sweet nephew!

Thanks be to Google, I found the origins and scribbled a brief explanation on the forms. However, something struck me as poignant in the midst of this rushed morning while I tried to figure out how to explain why my nephew’s name suits him. His first name comes from nature, and I don’t remember my brother having any particular reason for choosing it, other than they liked the way it sounded. His middle name can be translated as “thunder,” and again – I don’t think there was a significant reason for the choice other than its uniqueness. I started thinking about the pair of names, and it dawned on me: The thunder – while sometimes scary and unsettling – accompanies the rain, which helps the land. This little boy joined our immediate family under tumultuous circumstances, yet he’s a blessing just by being here. Thank You, Lord, for that reminder this morning.

In case you’re curious, the other kindergartener (who is technically the “baby” of the family by three whole weeks) has a pair of names that reiterate his “littlest one” place in the birth order. We didn’t particularly plan it that way; we just liked the way his name sounded (and, quite frankly, we had pert’ near exhausted our list of boy names!), but it is interesting now to reflect back on it.

What about your name or your kids’ names? Is there a story behind them?

Blogging from the USO in Atlanta, GA …

For some reason, the mobile version of my WordPress displays everything except the Publish button. When I retire, I think I will volunteer at the USO because it has been such a blessing to our family to have a friendly, welcoming place to wait in major airports (not to mention, the free snacks and other services like tv & Internet access are awesome!).

So, here I am, waiting on the last leg of our flight home from Georgia. It has been a great weekend, and I’m pumped about this next [and final] chapter in my academic career. I was already excited – albeit, more than a wee bit nervous – to attend Residency Weekend for my new doctoral program in Georgia this weekend, but the warm welcome & encouraging atmosphere put my anxieties at ease.

I was particularly impressed to see that in addition to several faculty members, the welcome dinner also included the dept chair, dean, provost and university president! I remarked to my husband that I couldn’t recall the last time all of those folks from my home university were in one room at one time – commencement, perhaps? It is truly an honor that they hold the DPA program at Valdosta in such high regard!

The president spoke about the origins of the program – my class is only the fourth cohort – and his respect for the faculty. He mentioned the competitiveness of the application process and told us all how proud he was for us. 😀

He also shared that the university has lost about 35% of its state funding because of the economic downturn. Providing access to distance-learning programs is a progressive way for the university to stay relevant and opens the doors to students (like me) who would not otherwise have reason to attend/invest in the school.

I’ve heard similar figures from my colleagues at other public universities; schools that previously relied heavily on their endowments have had to get creative in order to make ends meet. Unfortunately, that has resulted in lay-offs & furloughs in a number of places.

The president also talked about the recent capital projects around campus: $100+ million to rebuild & remodel outdated facilities that were in dire need of upgrades. The campus is lovely, and although I didn’t see the “before,” I can tell that they’ve put a lot of effort & pride into the improvements.

What struck me is how much they were able to accomplish with that amount of money. Don’t get me wrong … $100 million is a huge chunk of cash, but in this day & time, I’m still amazed at how much they were able to build. I think other universities – public & private, alike – could learn a lesson or two about wise spending. I’m thankful everyday that my university hasn’t had to undergo any personnel cuts; I pray that we’ll remain in a strong financial position, going forward.

I will leave you with a funny comment from a fellow student (an esteemed “2nd year,” no less! Proof in the pudding that it can be done). He has three master’s degrees and now is working on his doctorate. He’s also retired military and has worked his way up to what sounds like a very nice civilian position, from what I gathered. He recently promised his wife that this is the end of the road and said, “Some people collect butterflies or stamps; I collect degrees.” lol!

It’s hard to top a handmade gift from a child, but a very close second (in my book) is a gift that they bought with their own money. This summer, I was blessed with two such gifts – and jewelry, to boot!

My oldest two monkey boys took some spending money to camp for snacks at the canteen or small souvenirs. (Fine print: Ok, technically, it’s my money they’re spending, but still … it’s the thought that counts.)

No. 2 came home from the first camp with a black & white shell necklace that he presented to me proudly and even helped clasp the latch for me to wear it. I’ve worn it a couple of times and made sure to tell him about all the compliments I received. It warmed my heart!

Last week, they came home from another camp with camp logo t-shirts for all three of their little brothers that they had pooled their canteen money to purchase. I was so, so proud of them. Their little brothers were beside themselves at having “big kid camp” shirts to wear. But, to my surprise, the shopping spree didn’t end there …

This weekend, my oldest handed me a colorful gift bag and said, “Happy You-Survived-All-Summer-With-Five-Monkey-Boys Day, Mom!” As I unwrapped my surprise, he told me that he bought it for my birthday, but he just couldn’t wait that long to give it to me, so he secretly asked Nana to wrap it for me. 🙂  I love my mom & her willingness to conspire on such a sweet surprise!

I opened the box (which was lovely, in and of itself – it had a small cross applique on the lid), and inside was a gold cross with my November birthstone – topaz. “Look!” he said, taking the box from my hand and pointing at the label inside the lid. “It has 18 karats of gold AND gen-u-ine crystals! And, it’s your birthstone.”

Omigoodness, could he be any sweeter? “Coated in 18k gold” … and REAL crystals! He is too precious for words.

I love both of my surprises this summer, and I can’t wait to share these tales with future GFs … and someday, their brides-to-be. It makes me happy to see them thinking of someone else and wanting to make someone’s day. And, hey – they are already buying jewelry at ages 9 & 10, so look out, ladies – these boys are gonna be a hot commodity someday! 😉

(I wore the cross necklace layered with another one that Dad & the boys got me a few years back. I will be sure to let him know how many compliments I received on it!)

No, not apple or cherry turnovers (although, they do sound yummy!) … I’m talking about turnover at the workplace. It’s to be expected, especially when new leadership is at the helm. Any new president, CEO, etc. has the prerogative to select his or her own executive cabinet. What I don’t always understand is how those high-level decisions translate to the professional/clerical/technical staff who make up the bulk of the workforce.*

*If there is any question about who comprises the workforce, I can tell you – as the former Staff Council chair, that staff members outnumber faculty by approx. 1,200 to 800.

A week ago Monday, ie, seven working days ago, we received word that the vice president of our division was being reassigned to another area, and we had an interim vp until a new one could be identified. I won’t speculate about the positive or negative ramifications of this decision; it is what it is, and nothing I think will affect the decision that has already been made.

What frustrates me is that after a week-plus, we have not received so much as an introductory email from our new, fearless leader. I don’t know about you, but if I was appointed as the interim head honcho of a division, the least I would do is email the staff to introduce myself and let them know what to expect. For instance, this interim vp currently lives in D.C., and it is my understanding that she will not be relocating. Geography wasn’t my major, mind you, but I know enough to understand that Washington, D.C., is quite far from Waco, TX. How often is this person going to be on campus? How does she prefer to be contacted? Will anyone other than her direct reports even be permitted to contact her? Will we continue to have quarterly staff meetings, and if so, will she be in attendance? What changes do we need to make to the routing form for proposals that have to be signed by the president (and have always been vetted through the vp)? Is she going to be my POC for sticky questions concerning gifts vs. grants, and if not, to whom shall I defer?

So many questions.

Zero answers.

Much anxiety.

In times of change, especially when the circumstances surrounding the change are shrouded in mystery, staff need to be bolstered on a morale level. They need to know that their jobs aren’t in jeopardy (or – if they are – that would be helpful information, as well). They need to know that what they do matters. They need to know that the new leadership a) knows what they do, and b) values their contribution.

It’s an awkward situation to be in as a supervisor. I feel obligated to give my team answers, yet I have none to give. I try to help them not feel discouraged and keep their focus on the tasks at hand, so that we can put our best foot forward.

For six-plus years, I have felt so blessed to have the privilege of serving in the roles that I have been placed in at this university. I pray that I will continue to have opportunity to lead and serve here. It is terribly disconcerting to not know what is going on, even within one’s own division. It is a bit difficult to lead when you don’t know your second-level supervisor by any means other than a press release, but I’m trying. That’s what a supervisor does – she sets an example. I pray that the one I set is worthy of following.