Category: milestones

Coming of Age

Nina Chapman4 Comments

It’s been a minute, and by a minute I mean a few years. There are a few reasons for this. For one, being a middle school teacher can sometimes be terrifying in and of itself. It’s even more terrifying  when you are putting yourself out there the way that I do with my writing. There are some things kids don’t need to know about their teachers.

The other reason is because I’ve been distracted with the process of writing my book, editing it, trying to snag an agent (I did!) and then convincing a publishing company that they should publish it. (That happened too!)

The middle grade book I wrote has been described as Judy Blume meets The Sandlot. It’s about a girl whose biggest desire is to undergo a miracle transformation over the summer before middle school. She wants a  transformation that magically erases her secret past in hopes of gaining a fresh start.

It’s a common theme in my life. “Uh…. I think I need a redo.”

As the summer progresses she is unexpectedly adopted by a band of boys and through their budding friendship she starts to open up about the burden she carries. By the end of the summer it seems she has had a miracle transformation. It just looks nothing like the one she had envisioned. What she learns in the end is that the only thing that needed to transform all along was the way she saw herself.  

Again… another common theme of my life.

Throughout the process of crafting this book, I ended up having a similar transformation myself. And through this transformation I found I was having a hard time shifting this new theme in my life into the theme of this blog. Even the title of it made me cringe every time I saw it.  

If you sift through the beginning archives of this blog you’ll find a woman who was going through her second postpartum season and dealing with the subsequent identity crisis that comes with life change. During this time, I was struggling and on a journey to find the healthiest me.  At the time I automatically thought health equated to losing baby weight.

I was wrong.

Through my musings over the years I discovered a few things…

1. I like myself the way that I am.

2. Mental health leads to physical health.

3. It’s through your vulnerability that you find your strength.

I wasn’t really looking for attention when I started this blog. I was just a stay at home mom simply looking for a creative outlet. Nobody was really supposed to read it, and I was surprised when it kind of blew up.

Over time as my thinking started to shift I felt the need to give myself a new outlet, so I quit writing on my blog and started writing a book instead. To my surprise I found success in that too.

Now, I’m officially an author, and with that comes the terrifying concept of becoming a public figure. I’ve had to write about myself in the 3rd person, get my makeup done (which by the way was surprisingly terrifying) and take author looking photos for upcoming press releases…

And to no one’s surprise I have been awkward about the whole thing.

Because of this new found attention, I have been tempted to delete all of the dredges from this dusty old blog of mine.

I have an agent, an editor and a marketing team that are looking to sell my book. And through that is the pressure to create an image. 

I’ve been struggling with this whole concept… image. I’ve spent weeks looking at this author questionnaire that I received upon signing the book deal. It asked me a variety of questions about marketing myself that I have no idea how to answer, and it has left me wondering how do I want to go about this? Who do I want to be as an author?

And then it hit me. I’ll just be me. Because that’s how I got here… by writing with honesty and by sharing my truth.

I have ultimately decided to keep this little space of mine. (As embarrassing as it might be.) Not really for you, but for me… so I can see where I’ve been because it is the catalyst for where I’m going.

Just like the girl in my story, I’m learning to embrace my past and all of it’s awkward glory. In doing so I’m learning to embrace my own unique journey and the person these experiences have helped me become.

So, it appears here I am again- embarking on yet another coming of age. 

With Effort…

Nina Chapman1 Comment

Hi friends.

Did you miss me?

I sure missed you. I haven’t written one blog post during my summer break. It feels weird but it was intentional for several reasons. However, the main reason was due to the fact that there was something that I’ve been needing to do but have been putting off.

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You see, I’ve had this project burning in the back of my head, a book that I’ve wanted to write for over 6 years. It was something that scared the crap out of me because…

1.) With effort comes the possibility of failure.

2.) Some of the content required me to dig deep and address the insecurities I had growing up in order to make my character authentic.

I knew that if I got into the swing of writing blog posts again, I would justify not finishing the book because I was writing something else. The blog has been my excuse for a few years now. For some reason this summer I knew that I couldn’t use the blog as a crutch anymore. In order to be happy I needed to fulfill a promise I made to myself. I needed to finish this book.

So I created a routine that allowed me the creative time that I needed to finish my project but also the down time I needed to enjoy with my family. My daily routine mainly consisted of a variation of the same thing. Waking up early enough to watch the sun rise, drinking my first round of iced coffee and soaking in the moment the world seems to come to life again…

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Then I would go to the gym and listen to music that matched the tone of my story and imagine all of the adventures my characters would have that day when I had the time to write it all down.

After the gym we always went on some sort of random adventure. Sometimes it was just Penelope and I since Bridget was working at a summer camp and Brent was busy checking things off of his list for Paramedic School. And then sometimes we all got to do things together.

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No two days were exactly the same. Usually after our daily adventure, and after I was assured that Penelope had been thoroughly worn out, I would either put her down for a nap or let her watch a movie and rest. While she was preoccupied, I would take the time to sit outside in the shade of my back deck, drink round 2 of some home made iced coffee and write.

And that is where I proceeded to write, and write, and write.

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I wrote more than I ever felt possible and the process didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would. I started the summer with 40 pages already complete and by the time I was done I had completed over 300 pages. The completion snuck up on me and when I was done I was in awe of myself.

I actually did it!

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I couldn’t be more satisfied with myself. This was probably one of my greatest accomplishments. Not because writing a book is hard (which, sometimes it is), but because I was so scared to do it. Once I committed to finishing it, the process was surprisingly easy. The book just seemed to write itself. The characters just kind of took over and took the book into a direction I never could have planned out in advance. It was like they had been waiting all this time for their story to be told.

Last year was rough. I was physically maimed, not able to even bathe myself or walk and I was battered and floundering mentally and emotionally as well.

So for the summer, my goal was to take care of myself (both mentally and physically) and it ended up being the best summer I’ve had since I’ve started my teaching career. I set some goals based on who I wanted to be. I created a routine that was both productive and fulfilling. And through it all I found that elusive balance that I’m always looking for, even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

Now that school has started I have to create new goals, a new routine and a new type of balance. I haven’t quite figured it out yet, but I’m getting there.

And so goes the theme of my life…

Post-Op Hysteria

Nina ChapmanLeave a comment

 

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I’m trying to go with the whole Thanksgiving vibe and say that I am grateful for my good health and I appreciate the fact that in the not too long future I will have two functioning legs to go along with my strong and able body. The bullshit faker in me will also tell everyone that I have a whole new perspective on life since having the ability to walk taken away from me. That this tibial tubercle osteotomy was a blessing in disguise because I needed to stop and appreciate the little things.

But I’m not really feeling it this year. Instead I’m going to go old school Thanksgiving. Think pilgrim pulp fiction style. The kind where you aren’t satisfied with the kindness of others and you want what you want and you won’t be grateful until you get it. Because the truth of this whole situation is this…

I hate it. I HATE IT. I HATE IT!!!!

If I could kick my leg freely without popping a screw I would definitely perform the melt into the ground groaning fit that turns into a twisted screeching mess that heaves its fists and feet into the unsuspecting carpet. I imagine myself to be the damsel of hysteria who would contort her face and pull out her hair in her despair.  I want to scream until my throat is sore and my face is red and sweaty. Then, maybe just maybe after getting that all out, I would be okay with sitting down for another two weeks while everyone else merrily goes about their business.

I tried to throw such a fit during Thanksgiving preparations…  I kept accidentally flinging mashed potatoes around the kitchen while trying to balance my crutches and whip potatoes at the same time.

Brent suggested I sit down and I managed to stomp off toward the couch downstairs (quite a feat considering I only have one good leg for stomping with). Once I made it safely to the couch I hurled each crutch across the room one after the other so I could revel in the sound of each individual crutch rattling as it hit the ground. Once I lugged my leg safely on the ottoman, I let out a grunt of frustration, followed by another more obnoxious one because the first grunt didn’t do justice to the amount of frustration I felt.

That wiped me out for a good hour where I remained with my jaw drooping open thanks to the pain meds, looking at the tv but not really watching it. Behind the catatonic facade I was planning my next outburst. I just needed to gather my energy and resources together.

Feel sorry for my husband, feel really really sorry. He has been my man servant throughout this whole thing. He not only has to deal with my tantrums but he also has to clean the house, take care of the kids, and prepare for paramedic school (which starts first thing in January- super big deal).

I cry every time he has to help me out of the shower because I don’t want him to see me this way. He doesn’t seem to mind but in my head there couldn’t be anything less sexy than seeing your wife helplessly sitting on a plastic chair in the shower. There just something too… geriatric about it.

I cry every time I make it back to my bedroom to wrestle my clothes back on. Tears are kryptonite to my husband. He can’t stand them. When he sees them he has to fix whatever is causing them, and if he can’t fix them then he gets super frustrated. There is nothing he can do, but hoist my leg out of the tub, help me out until I can sit on the toilet and watch me cry. Poor guy.

In the mean time I’ve been taking leg selfies so I can see the progress in my healing.

I had my surgery on Thursday November 12th. I was super nervous that morning and could feel the insides of my stomach contort as we drove to the surgical center. Before I knew it I was naked under a flimsy hospital gown wishing they would just hurry up and knock me out.

I wrote “yes!” on the leg that I supposed to have surgery on and rung my hands together while I watched them give me a nerve block in my leg.

Brent gave me a kiss as they wheeled me away. The next thing I new I was laying in my own bed admiring my Britney Spears socks (aka compression socks).

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The next day was a disaster. The pain meds made me throw up continuously and the only container I had to catch the mess was a glass bowl. This then made Brent gag which then made me throw up harder and simultaneously yell at him to stop gagging. It was awful… again, poor guy.

Later that day I managed to keep everything down long enough to take a nap. Brent left to get anti nausea medicine and I woke up feeling woozy. I didn’t have my handy glass bowl and couldn’t maneuver my body fast enough to make it to the bathroom. Even if I could make it to the bathroom I had no way of leaning over the toilet effectively. Fortunately,   my friend KJ kindly came over and retrieved some crackers for me to eat so I could ease the urge to puke every where.

After I learned how to keep the pain meds down I spent the first week in bed. 12240234_10207681127416880_2602744032673377177_o

Scout was very worried about my condition and yelped every time I got up to go the the bathroom on my crutches.

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My friend Andrea came over at one time and relieved Brent of his care taker duties so he could fit in a workout at the gym.

She brought me a goodie bag including her Keurig so I could fetch myself a cup of tea while safely seated on my ass.

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She also helped me safely take a shower which, entailed a lot more naked Nina than she had anticipated after my shower chair broke. After the shower debacle was over she put me safely back to bed. She kindly fetched me a snack and painted my toenails before I drifted off to my pain-med induced sleep.

After a week my dad flew in to help Brent with all of the duties that lay solely on his shoulders.

It was at this time that I finally got out of the house long enough to capitalize on the freedom motorized wheelchair grocery carts provide.

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I even snuck off to the movies to watch the new Hunger Games Movie with Bridget and my dad.

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Despite those snippets of freedom, I began to feel confined in my circumstances…. literally. My leg and foot was bruised and swollen. At one point both my knee and my foot had a muffin top.

I would wake up in the middle of the night and my leg would swell into my brace until I felt like it was about to explode.

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Then came the muscle atrophy. I was not prepared to see my leg muscles dwindle away as fast as they did.

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I’ve been going to physical therapy which pretty  much entails having the therapist rub the crap out of my leg to try to get the swelling to move, a few quad contractions and icing and electric shock stuff.

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I am proud to announce that my quad has refused to give up hope. Most people’s quads shut down after a surgery like this. I was able to flex it and my Physical Therapist was super impressed. She said she’s never seen someone with quad skills like mine after a tibial tubercle osteotomy.

The worst part about this whole ordeal is not being able to do anything by myself. I have to rely on people to do everything for me. Sitting on the couch and watching Netflix on a snowy day sounded like paradise a few weeks ago, but the only thing I want more than anything is my independence back.

I can’t wait for the day that I can do whatever the hell I want- without the support of crutches. In the mean time, I’ll just continue to have my little temper tantrums you know… just to keep me preoccupied.

 

What Not To Say on a Job Interview

Nina Chapman4 Comments

You may or may not know this about me, but sometimes I say stupid stuff. Weird things pop into my head and if I’m not careful they come spewing out of my mouth at the strangest times. Those who know and love me have grown to find it endearing, funny even. Those who don’t know me can tend to think that I am… well, weird.

Most of the time when I’m around strangers I can get a handle on it. I’m fully aware that some people can only handle so much personality from one person. Yet, when I’m nervous like say… at a job interview, sometimes there is no telling what I’ll say.

That being said, let me share three phrases with you that should never be said while you are trying to convince someone to give you a job.

1.) “Oh! We’re role playing?!”

2.) “Yeah… I werked it 😉 ”

3.) “You know what? I’m gonna cheat… I’m cheating!”

Unfortunately for me I was feeling a bit off the morning I went in for my final job interview of the summer and ALL of those things were said at one point… including the winky face. As soon as I got back into my car after walking out of the school I was tempted to bang my head on my steering wheel over and over again. I didn’t though, instead I gave myself an internal scolding, “Nina! What the hell is your problem?!?!” and then I scolded myself again for finally being able to keep my thoughts in my head where they belong versus out of my mouth where they don’t.

Earlier this summer I had gone on a few interviews for Middle School Language Arts teaching positions. I got rejected once, offered one job (that I turned down), and then offered another opportunity to teach as a long term sub. The school that offered me the long term sub position told me to go ahead and apply for other jobs throughout the summer knowing that I had this offer to fall back on if necessary. (I’m pretty sure it was my consolation prize.)

Brent and I decided that since I was still on the fence about working full time again I should just go for the long term sub position. Penelope is still little and I know how time intensive teaching is, especially during your first year.

I was resolved on this decision, but then I stumbled upon a dream scenario. Part-time teaching at two schools within walking distance to my house, one of which Bridget is going to attend. I would teach two classes in the morning at one school and two classes at the other. I would have plenty of time throughout the day to finish all of my work so that I wouldn’t have to bring it home with me at night. I didn’t know whether or not I should apply for it. After all of the drama my summer entailed I was late turning in my teaching license and I didn’t think I would receive it on time for teaching at the beginning of the year.  I didn’t want to apply for this job and not get it because I was an idiot and didn’t take care of things  when I should have.

I debated and debated… I had been feeling pretty low after the surgery I didn’t think I could handle the rejection that I was sure to endure. But then for some reason on the last minute I submitted all of the required elements to apply and just waited to see what would happen. What did I have to lose? Worst case scenario I would gain more interview experience.

Shortly after, I got a call for an interview then my hopes started to soar. This was after all a unique job that was uniquely perfect for me, it was almost like it was tailor made.

I found myself becoming increasingly excited about the prospect of getting this job.  During the weekend I tried to mentally prepare myself for the interview by having the most relaxing weekend ever. On Saturday morning Penelope and I went on our usual morning bike ride and came across our beloved hot air balloons.

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My friend/neighbor, KJ took this picture.

When Sunday rolled around Brent and I took Penelope for an early morning hike.

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It was so beautiful I couldn’t believe that we waited so long to take our first hike of the summer!

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Then, I remembered that we had to carry a monkey on our back so I figured that was the reason for our delay.

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After the hike we got back in time to eat breakfast before heading out for our Sunday Funday farmer’s market/book store routine.  We sampled some fruit…

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and then read some books…

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… then went home and sampled some more fruit.

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After nap we went to a friend’s house for some yard games followed by a visit downtown Littleton for some food truck fun and a glass of wine. It was great!

Then someone decided to have a toddler fit and threw my phone against the wall and broke it to pieces… little shit. I was going to need that to hear back about my interview. It really bothered me and kind of ruined the mood for the day.

I was still irritated about it the next morning. Instead of taking my phone with me I took my computer and left early in order to get a coffee and decompress before the interview. It actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise. When I showed up to the school I sat across from someone else who was also interviewing for the same job. She had two huge binders sitting in her lap and looked super prepared. My first internal reaction was, “Shit! I should have done that too!” Then as I looked through the interview questions the secretary gave me I dug through my laptop and found a power point that I had made during my student teaching that correlated perfectly with an answer I had to give.

Ha! Take that super prepared applicant!

As I sat in the office waiting for my turn to interview I began to get even more nervous.  Then my thoughts went back to my broken phone sitting on my kitchen counter and I got irritated. Before I knew it, it was my turn and I was still feeling a little off. So what did I do? I overcompensated…

My personality was turned up ten notches instead of five and I said things I would never normally say in an interview. I sat there with two principals and two other teachers and I just put on a show. The more they laughed the more obnoxious I got. After having to role play a teacher student conference with one of the other teachers I just sat back and said, “Well… that was awkward. I must have left my Mary Katherine Gallager at home.”

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(Click here to see a reenactment of the interview.)

Turns out I didn’t leave Mary at home at all…

A few hours later I got a phone call from the school. But I missed it because my phone was in shreds. I got it repaired that night and tried to call the principal back who had left his cell number but didn’t get a response. On the voice mail he said that he just had a few more questions to wrap up the process.

I kept wracking my brain. What did he want to know?!

“So Nina, can you tell me why you are such a weirdo?”

No, I have no idea.

“Do you normally behave this way in front of people?”

No… okay fine. Yes.

I had to wait until the next morning to find out what he wanted to ask me. I was out on a walk with my friend power pushing Penelope’s stroller. I was a bit confused and out of breath when I answered. And then the questions came…

“Hi Nina, do you want this job? Because if you do it’s yours.”

YAY!!!!!

I was so excited! Brent was at home packing for our family vacation to Minnesota when I called him to share the news. Then I got even more news…

“You’ll have to start this Monday at 7:30 in the morning. We have an orientation you will have to attend.”

Our flight wasn’t schedule to come in until noon on Monday. After a few more calls it was determined that if I really wanted this job I would have to stay home from my trip.

So this morning I woke up early and dropped Brent and Penelope off at the airport in the rain. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I went to one of my favorite coffee shops from my college days.

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That’s where I am right now, among the hipsters writing my blog and drinking an over sized coffee.

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I keep feeling like I need to hurry home, but then I realize no one is waiting for me. I don’t know what to do with all of this freedom. It makes me think of the afternoons I spent between classes pretending I wasn’t a suburban housewife.

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Who knows I might just have to channel a little Coco Robicheaux while I have the chance…

Unattainable

Nina Chapman2 Comments

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So, I lost my phone today.

If you know me then this wouldn’t really surprise  you. I’m not particularly attached to my phone. I mainly use it as a watch, and I like to take pictures on it sometimes… Oh and when I run I listen to pandora on it. But other than that I could care less about it.

My friends get irritated with me because I’m the worst texter ever and I could truly care less about what someone might be tweeting in my absence. I’ll get a message at a red light and then the light will turn green before I can respond. By the time I’ve gotten to where I was going I’ve forgotten about it and they never hear back from me. Or it will die and I’ll forget to plug it in until I’m planning on going for a run and need it to listen to music.  I kind of view it as a tracking device and I would much rather be off the grid… I’m just weird like that.

Way back in the day when I had all of my friend’s phone numbers memorized I would judge how cool a person was by how unattainable they were. If I could never get a hold of them I immediately thought it was because they were out doing fun stuff  and it made me want to hang out with them even more. Now everyone is just too attainable in my opinion. We send someone a message and demand that they pay attention to us immediately. Sometimes I don’t want to pay attention to people. Sometimes I like being unattainable.

With that said, I’m still completely baffled as to how I lost my phone on this particular day because I was being extra careful.

When I woke up this morning I was planning on taking Penelope on an early morning bike ride before we dropped Bridget off at school. After I got her situated in her seat and her helmet strapped on I discovered that my front tire was flat. Bummer. Penelope was not happy about this so I let her run around the house with her helmet strapped on to ease the disappointment. After she ricocheted off of the wall for the fifth time I was tempted to make her wear it all day.

Instead, I got her dressed and took her to the Streets of Southglenn to play at the splash park with her friend Lucy. It was a little further than we usually venture but Lucy moved near there so we’re exploring new areas to meet up for play dates.

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It was so fun! I took a million pictures of Penelope playing in the fountains on my phone before we headed over to the library that was within walking distance. Once we arrived to the library we discovered that it was toddler story time. Penelope kept trying to take the librarian’s books before she could read them aloud and cried when her shaker instrument had to be given back. At that point my friend Andrea (Lucy’s mom) and  I decided that the girls had had enough so we headed out. Right before we left, Andrea discovered that her keys were missing so we spent ten minutes looking for them. We later found them in a deep dark crevice of her stroller.

While I helped Andrea look for her keys I couldn’t help but think, “I’m so glad it’s not me this time.” Then I double checked to make sure I had my phone and my keys in the bottom of my stroller because that kind of thing really does happen to me all of the time. We literally walked around the corner and to our cars… and sometime during that time frame I lost my phone. That’s what I get for thinking asshole thoughts I guess.

To make a long story short, Penelope didn’t get a nap and I never found my phone.

Usually when things go wrong like that I tend to think that I’ve earned the right to eat a cookie… or drink a bottle of wine… or order Chinese food at the end of the day. That’s just how my brain is wired.

I remember one time when I was little I had scraped my knee really bad falling off of my bike and later that night I couldn’t sleep. This was back in the day when I would fake a tummy ache every night just so that I had an excuse to get out of bed. Plus, I always got to drink some Pepto Bismol which I found incredibly delightful at the time. (Gross, I know.) That night when I went to whine to my parents they didn’t make me go back to bed. Instead, I got to sit on my mom’s lap and eat a popsicle while watching The Golden Girls.  A treat for having a crappy day.

Anyway, I think I’m always looking for a special treat like that when things don’t go my way. Strangely, Pepto Bismol doesn’t really seem to do the trick anymore. The brat in me feels like everything should go my way so when it doesn’t I deserve a treat. This is a bad habit to have when you are prone to screwing up as much as I am. You may laugh and think I’m just being self-deprecating but it’s the truth. I lose shit and I do weird things all of the time…. Don’t get me wrong, I’m brilliant in my own way but I’m more like an idiot savant than anything.

The whole point of my story is to tell you that I broke the cycle tonight. Instead, of having a “screw it” moment I stayed on track. I didn’t make the meal that I was planning  to make because Penelope was super grumpy. We had breakfast for dinner instead. I grappled with my love for all things pancake for a few minutes but stuck to my guns and had oatmeal with eggs and bacon instead. It was the perfect compromise, because for some inexplicable reason eating breakfast at night makes me happy. So I did have a treat after all.