liza bean
It's insane how much I enjoy studying anything that remotely relates to the brain, it's complex motor pathways and it's effects on how we speak. Seriously, I'm actually looking forward to making colorful charts and organizing the pages of notes that I have taken on motor speech disorders. How crazy is THAT? My three hours at Espresso Royal were not only pleasant ....I'm actually giddy. It has been way too long since studying has been fun. It almost seems like an oxymoron (sp?): studying...fun? I've officially entered the realm of geekiness and I'm loving it!
"Derek" actually played with me today. He initiated communication (YEY!) and we took turns blowing bubbles and he even seemed to begin to understand the concept of "big" vs. "little". The best part was while we were painting pumpkins and he actually smiled at me, with good eye contact and all.
Our wide grinner, "Carl", was having a bad day. But he amazed us with his knowledge of "in" vs. "on"; those tiny abstract words have been a bit of a challenge for him.
"Mike" came into school after a full moon and an evening of barking like a dog until 3:00 in the morning. He seemed cheerful, as usual, although his mother was exhausted.
I had a wonderful morning with these children. I left the school thinking, "That felt right. Perhaps I can do this for a living".
After reviewing the movable type user manual, searching the web for free movable type templates, and looking for dummy guides on html, I hereby announce that I would like to register for a class on developing web pages. Here I am trying to learn a whole new language via google alone. It's not working properly. How do you say "center the photograph" in HTML? I don't even know if I'm using the right language. What is CSS anyway? I'm so confused. I've roamed too far into this realm of designing. I need to find my way home, back to the click and type world of the moderately computer illiterate.
That subtle smell of decaying leaves, the crispness of the air. Memories of metal rakes scratching up the fresh scent of pine needles, gingersnap cookies soggy with milk, and that magical feeling of being buried in a pile of crumbling tree left-overs.
Every fall, on a special Saturday in October, the cousins would gather to help Grandpa rake up a large yard's worth of leaves. He had quite the collection of rakes. Big, small, wide or narrow- you name it, he had it. Most were of medium width with metal prongs. You were lucky if you scored the wide, plastic beauties. They were the most efficient! Every year, there was always a classic dud. The rake that trapped more leaves in its metal appendages than it ever managed to properly gather. Short breaks, that were taken to bask in the sparkling yet cool autumn day (or taken to nibble on the treats in Grandma's glass-blue cookie jar!), provided ample time for the quick and sneaky rake switches.
The best part came at the end of the afternoon. Somehow us younsters managed to meander our way (with our mini pile o' leaves in tow) to the ever so far away curb. A task that involved charging through the wide, white sidewalk -now a bit faded from the years of scratchy battles of metal against concrete. Or so we like to think. Although our task was now complete, it was not yet over!
Now, let the games begin... we all dived in -each into her own unique section of the unified pile of twigs, leaves and tiny pine needles. I can feel it all still. The soft, gentle caress of a crisp and feathery fall blanket. The dark and warm cacoon against the cooling dusk air.
And the laughter. Oh the joy of making a mess, tossing leaves up and watching them twirl back to their earthy home.
Then our bellies would rumble, and YUM, pizza for all!! Meanwhile, Grandpa would take the prized rake and make "finishing touches" on our hard day's work.
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The first time I witnessed Brent laugh from pure giddiness was while playing in a truckload of leaves. Grandpa, you'd like him.
FYI: C = confidence
A few days ago, during clean up time after children's classes, Billy (father of cutie patooties Georgia and Maya and baby-girl-to-be Baker) asked me something along the lines of, "Liza, what have you been working on this semester?" First of all, I find those sorts of questions so interesting to answer because they really make me think! It's no simple "how are your classes going?" or "how are you?" Needless to say, I had no simple reply. I can't even remember my response. But I have been thinking about it all week. Here is my reply:
Mid-term evaluations. The time of the semester when you really get know exactly what your "superiors" think of you. My first supervisor, let's call her Ms. Blessing, pointed out a lot of very positive qualities about me. I am continuously shocked by her comments. I mean, wasn't she watching? Didn't she hear me trail off and forget to cue my client about a million times each session? Apparently, my blunders are normal. DUH, LIZA BEAN. And now enters the theme of my semester, of my life really: confidence. Her comment to me was, "Liza, you do not give yourself nearly enough credit. You are going to be a stellar clinician". WHAT? In my mind I am constantly questioning if I have what it takes. I feel like my own struggles with communication and social skills hinder, to a devastating degree, my ability to provide adequate therapy.
Then off I go to supervisor number two, or shall I say Ms. The One I Am a Whee Bit Scared Of. Luckily this semester I do not have Ms. You TOTALLY Scare the Sh** Out of Me. So she goes through the evaluation, and what do you know? Her biggest concern for me: my confidence. And she says similar stuff-- "I see your potential, you don't give yourself enough credit, believe in yourself, you really know your stuff -don't doubt yourself".
So here I am. Developing self goals. Now, I am fully aware of my lack of confidence (let's face it, that's the basis of my anxiety folks) and was extremely relieved/shocked to hear that my lack of confidence in my abilities has been unfounded. (I am also extremely embarassed that the "world" is fully aware of my lack of confidence, pahoohy). Now, when I am able to come to similar conclusions all on my own, that will be a sign that I've gained some C. Because what I've been doing this semester -my theme so far- has been to survive being evaluated by other people. I forgot about surviving my own evaluations -which turned out to be much harsher.
Last night I revisited the book "Self Matters" by the former Oprah psychologist. I come across a lot of Dr. Phil bashers -- it's fine if you find him cheesy/annoying. Personally, the exercises in his book have been helpful in this ongoing quest for building up my self-esteem/self confidence. If anyone knows of any other great books on this subject that'd be great. I'm looking for the kind that gives me some hands-on ideas and exercises.
Did you know that there are other people named Liza? Well, yes, of course there are. Did you know that there are at least two 25 year old college students named Liza who have blogs entitled Liza Bean?? Weird.
Once I get in some relaxation time I was hoping to study up on movable type because I want to get creative with this site. I've been inspired by the numerous changes propping up all over blog land. Changes may include a little tweaking of my blog's title. Any suggestions?
I think I forget how to study for an exam. How does one get oneself to study for something of which they have absolutely no interest?
Two minutes later silly Aunt Liza decided to switch positions. Someone's nap was cut a little short.
Here I am trying to remedy the situation. Ok, maybe not. I believe this was taken before nap time. Nonetheless, "wooing" can eventually produce a smile. Of course, just about anything can eventually produce a smile with this social bug!
Once a week I get the pleasure of taking care of my neice for a whee little bit. Although these photos were taken on a different occasion, they pretty much sum up my Wednesday morning time with the little one. Making silly faces + swaying = happy Amia and happy tia.
Oh, my sad little site has been a big blank moosh of pink because of my neglectfulness. Wowzers! Did I really just survive the past three weeks?? I think that I did. Every semester there is a point (or SEVERAL points) when I wonder, "Have I ever in my entire life been this busy?". Lately, I've been pulling 12 hour work days; today was actually a 16 hour work day. And I am finished, have completed grading those dreaded research papers. Just in time for another stack of 20+ papers- yahoo- but that's for office hours on Thursday. Now on to the neglected homework...
I went to an Indigo Girls concert on Sunday. What a blessed event. After a good seven-day battle (Brent would say 14, but whatever) against the ever-lurking depression that tends to occur when I have spent way too many days full of anxiety and stress, I got relief. I love folky music. Aaah, and the way my spirit soars when I hear people sing. Music, I need more music!! I swear, that concert made me sincerely joyful, and I've been living off that burst of happiness for the past two days. I'm hoping to milk that happiness for all it's worth, too.
It's been a very long October. I apologize for being locked up all inside me these past few weeks. Coming soon I intend on being a much more attentive friend/sister! Suprisingly, I've been doing well on the wife front...
Too many.....papers..to...grade. And one of our graders just quite the program. Everybody now, the citation song: "paraphrase = (author, year)"........."direct quote = (author, year, pg. #)". Laalalalalaa, laaalalaa.
I did not do my homework (gasp!) for my class this morning. Instead I slept an extra hour to up my grand total to 7 hours, and headed out the door feeling okay about not turning in an assignment. FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER. When I arrived, what do you know? Class cancelled. Yahooo!!
Health Announcement: Whoop, whoop! I can breath through my nose. Still stuffy and drippy, but functional at last.
My mood: I'm in a really griping mood but just so you know how I'm working on staying positive- I WILL NOT GRIPE.
Goal of the week (minus Sunday): Get through the next two days without having a complete mental breakdown involving swearing, screaming, bawling my eyes out, and then remaining in a comotose state of "I must quit all and everything that I am doing, RIGHT NOW and FOREVER".
Best moment of the day:
Maya: Why not are we oing ome? (Why aren't we going home?)
Bahiyyih: We're going to Strawberry Fields, remember?
Maya: wiiiight! (right! spoken in that very adult intonation of a very stretched vowel which means- "I knew that!")
Tie for second best moment of the day:
Amia's guyummy smile at my funky looking juice bottle AND/OR
Georgia (while giving me the biggest hug I've had in a long while that really, only kids can give): My mom wants to know if you are coming over to play with us for a little bit. You know, I like playing with you.
Really, I have no time to be writing this. I should be studying for yet another quiz on the 12 cranial nerves. But my head is foggy and I can't think straight. A few nights ago, while drugged up on Nyquil (sp?), I informed Brent, "A bee has stung my butt". Too which he replied, "Liza, grumble, grumble". I think it was an appropriate response. Too little sleep, too little air getting in via my nasal passages. This will be an interesting week.