Everyone loves a good gripe, right? Well, maybe. I do though that's probably a character flaw. I figured, why not start a series? I promise not to get bogged down in my own pet peeves, but when things pop up that are too long to explain on ye ole FB, I can grumble about it here. Thus Things That Annoy Me #1:
We got our Open Enrollment information at work yesterday. This is where they tell how much our premiums for insurance are going up next year. This is always kind of a thorny subject because the hospital is self-insured. They make a big deal about the increasing cost of health care and the need for premium increases, but then say they aren't making enough money for us to get raises. So the money goes where exactly? They take it out of one pocket and put it in the other. Anyway....
So a few years ago they decided to soften the blow of the 'no raise/premium increase' combo by putting the premiums on a tiered system where your cost is related to your salary. The lowest paid employees also pay the least in premiums. I am somewhat agnostic about this system. You are theoretically buying the same product so it seems you should pay the same price, but there is also an argument to be made for lessening the burden for lower paid employees by those who can better afford it and also the likelihood that the higher paid employees are older and thus using more health care services and offsetting more of what they actually use. Overall my feeling about these tiers is meh.
Here is what annoys me: The differences in premiums are such as to be meaningless lip service.
Let us do some math. I will only use the type of insurance that I have in the examples because I know it best. We choose a non-smoking family plan that has an individual deductible of $1750 in this hospital's network and a $2200 individual deductible in the national network. (I'll ignore the out of network coverage.) The maximum family deductible is $3250 in the hospital network and $4400 in the national network. After the deductible is hit, the coinsurance is 10% in the hospital network and 30% in the national network. On to the analysis....
There are five salary tiers that determine your premium. I will ignore the bottom tier because the lowest salary is $0 and it is hard to make comparisons. The bottom tier extends from $0 to $49999.99.
The next tier is for salaries from $50000 to $99999.99. Lucky me, this is the tier for which I qualify. Barely. The cost of the family plan in this tier is $282 a month. As a percentage of salary for the lowest earner on the tier that is ~6.8% of the monthly gross income.
The next tier up is for salaries from $100000 to $149999.99. The cost of the same plan is $310 a month. So the lowest earner on this tier gets twice as much salary but only pays $28 more in premium. As a percentage of gross monthly income, the lowest earner on this tier pays 3.7% of salary towards premiums.
Let's jump to the top tier. The lowest salary on the top tier is $200000. The family premium on this tier is $385 a month. As a percentage of gross monthly salary, the lowest earner on this tier pays a whooping 2.3% of salary for insurance premiums. If the person on this level had to pay 6.8% of his salary like the people on tier 2, his premiums would be $1133 a month. If the person on tier 2 only paid 2.3% of his salary, his premiums would be $96 a month.
Now I am not suggesting that the percentages be kept even all the way up the tiers. What I am suggesting is that the people who make these decisions, who coincidentally all fall into the highest tier, are making empty statements about sharing the load while making sure it doesn't really bite them. They pat themselves on the back for their generosity while barely noticing the premium they pay. And that annoys me! If they were really concerned about alleviating the burden of premiums on the lower paid employees, the differences in premiums would amount to more than a daily Starbucks habit. I'd rather everyone pay the same amount across the board than be subjected to this preening.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Saturday, September 20, 2014
GFLN Week 3 Sept 20th
Linking up with Melanie's Learning Notes again. I am totally stealing Entropy's title! I write most of these when I am at work which means I don't have access to pictures to make it more inviting. Sorry!
Sunday, Sept 14th.
The girls have Sunday School after Mass on Sunday mornings and we live too far away to merit going home and back so our weekly visit to the grocery store happens while they are in class. While trying to amuse Sam when waiting at the deli counter, we look in the fresh food case and I ask him to name the ingredients of the various dishes that are displayed. One of the salads had chickpeas in it so I told him hummus was made with chickpeas. He was quite pleased with this new piece of knowledge since he loves hummus.
It was a big reading day with Olivia since that got ignored for most of last week. She read me a school book on butterflies and then three Bob books. I was not really paying attention to the last Bob book so I have no idea if she read it correctly or not, but the three books I was tuned in for went pretty well. I noticed in Mass this morning, she was word tracking in the missalette with her finger. Her reading is coming along.
At bedtime Grace announced that since animals do not have consciences, they all go to heaven when they die. I had to tell her that no, we actually don't know what happens to animals when they die, but we can trust God to do what is best for them, whatever that happens to be. This answer satisfied her, but she is such an animal lover, it worries me if anyone tells her differently from either end of the spectrum.
We successfully got them in bed earlier tonight, thanks to skipping supper after a huge meal at the parish picnic. Or so we thought. About fifteen minutes after the lights were supposed to be out, Grace bursts from her bedroom upset because she has forgotten about the reading log. She wants to go downstairs and work on her reading log. No. Go to bed. Much crying. I discovered furtive work happening several times until I just went to bed myself pretty sure she was going to try to work on it as soon as I left.
Reading logs drive me batty. Grace reads plenty of books. She comprehends what she reads quite well. But we will spill much blood, sweat, and tears trying to appropriately document these facts.
Got to write two checks and fill out two forms for the girls to get their school sweatshirts for the year. They aren't terribly expensive except I will put money down right now Olivia wears hers once and only once. She will wear it to school one day and see that everyone else has one too and will never wear it again. I can foresee this, but how can I deny buying her one when her sister is getting one?
Monday, Sept 15th
After all the reading log drama, Grace had to walk laps for five minutes of her recess because she forgot to ask one of us to sign it. Oh yay, more to sign.
At school Grace had technology class where she took reading tests. Olivia had guidance class which she does not like. Guidance class is the school system's pathetic excuse for moral education. Of course, we can't call it moral education and can't refer to anything that might reinforce why moral education is necessary. All this means is that guidance class is filled with pablum about bullying and respect and "be nice because it's nice to be nice." If you think I'm kidding about the "Be Nice" bit, the next county over has a whole program around the concept. I'm sure it will be a raging success. I am pretty sure nobody likes guidance class, not even the guidance teacher.
Everyone all around, adults included, were in generally grumpy moods so not much conversation at supper. Read one school newsletter and signed two agendas.
For the past few weeks, Grace has been pestering us to help her build a website for cheetahs. At first we thought she wanted to learn how to code and we kept pushing her off because that's pretty intensive. It's been years since I coded a website from scratch so I would have to study up before showing her. Dave codes pretty regularly but doesn't really want to sit with her and take ALL the time it would take to teach it to her. He has got a lot going on right now. Then inspiration struck! Since we have been in blog creation mode, perhaps a blog is more what she is looking for. Grace is now the proud owner of Grace for Cheetahs. Go visit and see if she has written anything yet. I used this opportunity to talk about what one may and may not share openly here on the World Wide Web.
Tuesday, Sept 16th
The girls had cross-country practice again, so hot, tired, and sweaty girls. I keep catching myself calling the practices rehearsals which just sounds wrong, but is what I am accustomed to calling these after-school phenomena.
Impromptu meeting in a parking lot with my parents to get our 18m box of baby clothes from them since the weather is getting cooler and Marian needs some pants. My parents graciously let us store our tubs of children's clothing in their attic because they have the room and we don't. They were on their way out of state and were passing near our area right at suppertime. So supper was late and the evening disjointed and not much discussion was had.
Grace had PE and spent time learning about themes in reading. Olivia had technology class. Yay. After supper Sam helped clear the table and empty and reload the dishwasher. A very helpful boy.
Olivia is driving me nuts with her desire for the latest cheap gimmick prize from the school fundraiser. The thing I hate about fundraising is that the very organizations we are supposed to entrust our children's best interests manipulate those same children into a greedy lather over cheap trinkets in order to make a few bucks. I find the whole process revolting. I am pressured into buying products I don't need at prices I would never normally pay while my children are affirmed in their greed and end up with one more piece of trash to leave on the floor.
Read one letter from cross-country, signed two agendas, and finally looked at the school fundraising packet. Have mercy on me.
Wednesday, Sept 17th
I got home just in time for some blow up that made me worry the evening was going to be a grumpy slog, but cooler heads prevailed and we had a pretty good evening.
Olivia had PE and Grace had library where she checked out the cheetah book again for the umpteenth time.
During supper we reminisced about our old Honda CR-V which we had to trade in for the van when Sam came along because carseats. The CR-V was a manual and we discussed what makes a manual transmission different than an automatic. Lots of explanation about the stick and the third pedal. We were surprised to hear how much Sam pays attention to what we do when we are driving. He could describe it very well. I guess his carseat location gives him a good view.
After supper, Grace taught me a new hand clapping game which she could perform herself and to a wall, but got flustered when I was her partner. I tried to practice with Olivia too, but her coordination is not quite there. It was silly and fun and thankfully not the words I learned in elementary school.
When the silliness subsided, Olivia read me the butterfly book again and another Bob book.
Signed two agendas and a packet of work, checked Grace's math homework, and listened to Olivia talk about fundraising all night long.
Thursday, Sept 18th
Olivia woke up this morning talking about fundraising. How long, O Lord? Grace woke up with a bad cough so she stayed home. After work, I had a church function to attend all evening so I left the crew to themselves tonight. All in bed when I got home. Signed one agenda.
Friday, Sept 19th
A day for ranging conversations. At supper we discussed France and cheese, inspired by bearing discussing the cheese section of a French grocery story, and whether or not France was in Italy (no). After supper we went out to run some errands and discussed school things in the car. Olivia had art today. She finished her lizard from the other day and started drawing a sunflower which she will paint next time she has art class. Grace, who had technology, talked about her last art class.
Grace: We are learning about a guy who was famous for creating popular art so we are drawing popular foods.
Me: A guy who is famous for popular art? Andy Warhol?
Grace: Yes! That's him. He made popular art.
I laughed. Doesn't that just sum up modern educational philosophy! Fourth graders are studying Andy Warhol.
After the art conversation, Grace talked about the Native Americans she is learning about. Now I am not up on my ancient Native cultures, but I think she is learning about ancient people and not relatively modern ones. Here is how the tangent started:
Grace: Is there a country in Asia that speaks English?
Me: There are people in Asia who do speak English, but no, English is not the official language of any country in Asia that I know of.
Grace: So how did the Indians speak English when the pilgrims got here?
This touched off a conversation to clarify what she was asking, about how English did not exist when people crossed the land bridge into North America, and how most natives actually did not speak English. She was trying to square in her mind exactly how it came to be that when the Pilgrims came to North America, there were people there who spoke English. When we got home, I looked for something on Squanto. I thought I remembered Melanie putting something up about him once a few years ago, but came up empty. Must have been someone else. Maybe another blog or maybe she wrote about not Squanto. Anyway, I settled for this little write-up. Grace read it and seemed satisfied.
I signed nothing.
Saturday, Sept 20th
First thing this morning, we found that someone went out early today to watch the implosion of the ruined bridge from the big wreck about a month ago and posted the video on the local FB page.
We watched this video probably ten times. First we talked about implosion and dynamite and chain reactions. Then we talked about safety precautions. Finally we talked about the difference in the speed of light and the speed of sound and counted the time delay between seeing the explosion and hearing it. (About 3 seconds, if you are curious) Marian was sitting in my lap and every time we heard the boom, she jumped. It was funny. She wasn't upset and it didn't seem to scare her, but she startled every time.
At breakfast, Grace was back on the Native Americans. I forget exactly how it came up, but eventually we were talking about how culture and civilization cannot develop without a steady and dependable supply of food and people were nomads until agriculture was invented. "Agriculture was invented?!" she exclaimed. So we talked about how people had learn how to plant and grow and maintain a water source and only after that did people start to settle down into fixed locations.
At lunch, they are were begging for tea, but were being served water. I quipped they could think of their water as a tea of hydrogen and oxygen. They were not impressed, but I drew them a water molecule which looks like Mickey Mouse and they were amused. Grace wanted to know that since the sun is made of hydrogen, if water is created by the sun shining on the oxygen in the air. No. We talked about the sun and radiation and the three states of matter. Dave started talking about Mr Wizard and an experiment in creating water by putting a spark to a balloon filled with hydrogen. I intended to find them a video to watch, but they ran outside and I typed this up instead.
So that's pretty much our week.
Sunday, Sept 14th.
The girls have Sunday School after Mass on Sunday mornings and we live too far away to merit going home and back so our weekly visit to the grocery store happens while they are in class. While trying to amuse Sam when waiting at the deli counter, we look in the fresh food case and I ask him to name the ingredients of the various dishes that are displayed. One of the salads had chickpeas in it so I told him hummus was made with chickpeas. He was quite pleased with this new piece of knowledge since he loves hummus.
It was a big reading day with Olivia since that got ignored for most of last week. She read me a school book on butterflies and then three Bob books. I was not really paying attention to the last Bob book so I have no idea if she read it correctly or not, but the three books I was tuned in for went pretty well. I noticed in Mass this morning, she was word tracking in the missalette with her finger. Her reading is coming along.
At bedtime Grace announced that since animals do not have consciences, they all go to heaven when they die. I had to tell her that no, we actually don't know what happens to animals when they die, but we can trust God to do what is best for them, whatever that happens to be. This answer satisfied her, but she is such an animal lover, it worries me if anyone tells her differently from either end of the spectrum.
We successfully got them in bed earlier tonight, thanks to skipping supper after a huge meal at the parish picnic. Or so we thought. About fifteen minutes after the lights were supposed to be out, Grace bursts from her bedroom upset because she has forgotten about the reading log. She wants to go downstairs and work on her reading log. No. Go to bed. Much crying. I discovered furtive work happening several times until I just went to bed myself pretty sure she was going to try to work on it as soon as I left.
Reading logs drive me batty. Grace reads plenty of books. She comprehends what she reads quite well. But we will spill much blood, sweat, and tears trying to appropriately document these facts.
Got to write two checks and fill out two forms for the girls to get their school sweatshirts for the year. They aren't terribly expensive except I will put money down right now Olivia wears hers once and only once. She will wear it to school one day and see that everyone else has one too and will never wear it again. I can foresee this, but how can I deny buying her one when her sister is getting one?
Monday, Sept 15th
After all the reading log drama, Grace had to walk laps for five minutes of her recess because she forgot to ask one of us to sign it. Oh yay, more to sign.
At school Grace had technology class where she took reading tests. Olivia had guidance class which she does not like. Guidance class is the school system's pathetic excuse for moral education. Of course, we can't call it moral education and can't refer to anything that might reinforce why moral education is necessary. All this means is that guidance class is filled with pablum about bullying and respect and "be nice because it's nice to be nice." If you think I'm kidding about the "Be Nice" bit, the next county over has a whole program around the concept. I'm sure it will be a raging success. I am pretty sure nobody likes guidance class, not even the guidance teacher.
Everyone all around, adults included, were in generally grumpy moods so not much conversation at supper. Read one school newsletter and signed two agendas.
For the past few weeks, Grace has been pestering us to help her build a website for cheetahs. At first we thought she wanted to learn how to code and we kept pushing her off because that's pretty intensive. It's been years since I coded a website from scratch so I would have to study up before showing her. Dave codes pretty regularly but doesn't really want to sit with her and take ALL the time it would take to teach it to her. He has got a lot going on right now. Then inspiration struck! Since we have been in blog creation mode, perhaps a blog is more what she is looking for. Grace is now the proud owner of Grace for Cheetahs. Go visit and see if she has written anything yet. I used this opportunity to talk about what one may and may not share openly here on the World Wide Web.
Tuesday, Sept 16th
The girls had cross-country practice again, so hot, tired, and sweaty girls. I keep catching myself calling the practices rehearsals which just sounds wrong, but is what I am accustomed to calling these after-school phenomena.
Impromptu meeting in a parking lot with my parents to get our 18m box of baby clothes from them since the weather is getting cooler and Marian needs some pants. My parents graciously let us store our tubs of children's clothing in their attic because they have the room and we don't. They were on their way out of state and were passing near our area right at suppertime. So supper was late and the evening disjointed and not much discussion was had.
Grace had PE and spent time learning about themes in reading. Olivia had technology class. Yay. After supper Sam helped clear the table and empty and reload the dishwasher. A very helpful boy.
Olivia is driving me nuts with her desire for the latest cheap gimmick prize from the school fundraiser. The thing I hate about fundraising is that the very organizations we are supposed to entrust our children's best interests manipulate those same children into a greedy lather over cheap trinkets in order to make a few bucks. I find the whole process revolting. I am pressured into buying products I don't need at prices I would never normally pay while my children are affirmed in their greed and end up with one more piece of trash to leave on the floor.
Read one letter from cross-country, signed two agendas, and finally looked at the school fundraising packet. Have mercy on me.
Wednesday, Sept 17th
I got home just in time for some blow up that made me worry the evening was going to be a grumpy slog, but cooler heads prevailed and we had a pretty good evening.
Olivia had PE and Grace had library where she checked out the cheetah book again for the umpteenth time.
During supper we reminisced about our old Honda CR-V which we had to trade in for the van when Sam came along because carseats. The CR-V was a manual and we discussed what makes a manual transmission different than an automatic. Lots of explanation about the stick and the third pedal. We were surprised to hear how much Sam pays attention to what we do when we are driving. He could describe it very well. I guess his carseat location gives him a good view.
After supper, Grace taught me a new hand clapping game which she could perform herself and to a wall, but got flustered when I was her partner. I tried to practice with Olivia too, but her coordination is not quite there. It was silly and fun and thankfully not the words I learned in elementary school.
When the silliness subsided, Olivia read me the butterfly book again and another Bob book.
Signed two agendas and a packet of work, checked Grace's math homework, and listened to Olivia talk about fundraising all night long.
Thursday, Sept 18th
Olivia woke up this morning talking about fundraising. How long, O Lord? Grace woke up with a bad cough so she stayed home. After work, I had a church function to attend all evening so I left the crew to themselves tonight. All in bed when I got home. Signed one agenda.
Friday, Sept 19th
A day for ranging conversations. At supper we discussed France and cheese, inspired by bearing discussing the cheese section of a French grocery story, and whether or not France was in Italy (no). After supper we went out to run some errands and discussed school things in the car. Olivia had art today. She finished her lizard from the other day and started drawing a sunflower which she will paint next time she has art class. Grace, who had technology, talked about her last art class.
Grace: We are learning about a guy who was famous for creating popular art so we are drawing popular foods.
Me: A guy who is famous for popular art? Andy Warhol?
Grace: Yes! That's him. He made popular art.
I laughed. Doesn't that just sum up modern educational philosophy! Fourth graders are studying Andy Warhol.
After the art conversation, Grace talked about the Native Americans she is learning about. Now I am not up on my ancient Native cultures, but I think she is learning about ancient people and not relatively modern ones. Here is how the tangent started:
Grace: Is there a country in Asia that speaks English?
Me: There are people in Asia who do speak English, but no, English is not the official language of any country in Asia that I know of.
Grace: So how did the Indians speak English when the pilgrims got here?
This touched off a conversation to clarify what she was asking, about how English did not exist when people crossed the land bridge into North America, and how most natives actually did not speak English. She was trying to square in her mind exactly how it came to be that when the Pilgrims came to North America, there were people there who spoke English. When we got home, I looked for something on Squanto. I thought I remembered Melanie putting something up about him once a few years ago, but came up empty. Must have been someone else. Maybe another blog or maybe she wrote about not Squanto. Anyway, I settled for this little write-up. Grace read it and seemed satisfied.
I signed nothing.
Saturday, Sept 20th
First thing this morning, we found that someone went out early today to watch the implosion of the ruined bridge from the big wreck about a month ago and posted the video on the local FB page.
We watched this video probably ten times. First we talked about implosion and dynamite and chain reactions. Then we talked about safety precautions. Finally we talked about the difference in the speed of light and the speed of sound and counted the time delay between seeing the explosion and hearing it. (About 3 seconds, if you are curious) Marian was sitting in my lap and every time we heard the boom, she jumped. It was funny. She wasn't upset and it didn't seem to scare her, but she startled every time.
At breakfast, Grace was back on the Native Americans. I forget exactly how it came up, but eventually we were talking about how culture and civilization cannot develop without a steady and dependable supply of food and people were nomads until agriculture was invented. "Agriculture was invented?!" she exclaimed. So we talked about how people had learn how to plant and grow and maintain a water source and only after that did people start to settle down into fixed locations.
At lunch, they are were begging for tea, but were being served water. I quipped they could think of their water as a tea of hydrogen and oxygen. They were not impressed, but I drew them a water molecule which looks like Mickey Mouse and they were amused. Grace wanted to know that since the sun is made of hydrogen, if water is created by the sun shining on the oxygen in the air. No. We talked about the sun and radiation and the three states of matter. Dave started talking about Mr Wizard and an experiment in creating water by putting a spark to a balloon filled with hydrogen. I intended to find them a video to watch, but they ran outside and I typed this up instead.
So that's pretty much our week.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Extenuating circumstances
Elizabeth Duffy published a piece about finding the middle ground between the noxious Prosperity Gospel and forever playing the martyr in order to be miserable for God:
Barring serious illness or extenuating circumstances, times of extreme difficulty with normal life should be temporary.
If they are not temporary, it could be time to wonder if we’re setting traps for ourselves or creating a life of soft controversy because joy seems untrustworthy, or undeserved, or we have past associations with fun and sin, or maybe we just don’t feel good about feeling good when there’s so much suffering in the world.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Waking in the Dark
I am not a morning person. My current situation in life requires that I be a morning person. This is difficult.
The short story is that between my job and my home is a nasty snarl of construction that can stretch my 43 minute drive sans traffic into an hour and a half nightmare. If there is some major complication, it is not unheard of for people to take 3 hours getting into town. Since working from home to avoid this daily grind has been disallowed, the best solution is to go into work as early as possible in order to leave as early as possible in order to avoid the worst of it.
Sometimes my situation is such that I can not leave early, i.e. pregnancy, newborn, chronic sleep-deprivation. The punishment is harsh, up to three hours of driving a day, but unavoidable. The key is to know when necessity has ended and habit or laziness has set in.
Since the beginning of 2014, I have made a project of consistently getting to work by 7. This required that I 1) get up earlier than I had been and 2) figure out exactly when I need to leave home to get to work by 7. It is not a linear equation. I have not been completely successful, but have modified my habits enough to see a real return on my time and avoid most of the misery.
In the winter and spring it was difficult, but there was energy is having a new goal and I was unconsciously helped by the increasing daylight. Although it was dark in the morning, the sun would show itself more each day and it seemed to support me in reaching my goals. The summer came with its glorious light. I could push my bedtime later into the night and not pay the consequence in the morning. Whenever the alarm sounded, there was my friend, the sun, shining in my window. Getting up and going was not hard. I wasn't quite getting to work when I wanted, but the schedule was immanently acceptable.
Now the fall is coming. The mornings are dark again. My bedtime is still at its easy summer time. Getting up is hard, and I hit snooze more than I should. My arrival times at work have drifted in the wrong direction. It is still not as terrible as before, but the schedule has ceased to be acceptable.
I know what I need to do but am lacking the motivation and enthusiasm to do it. I do not want to fall back into old habits, and yet find myself staying up late anyway, hitting snooze anyway, going back to sleep anyway. I am waiting for my mental desires to overcome my feelings of inertia. It will happen. Eventually.
I have to wake in the dark. The sun is withdrawing its support and I have to rely on an act of my will. There is no other option right now. I need to accept this fact. The long, dark winter is coming and I still have to go to work. This is difficult.
The short story is that between my job and my home is a nasty snarl of construction that can stretch my 43 minute drive sans traffic into an hour and a half nightmare. If there is some major complication, it is not unheard of for people to take 3 hours getting into town. Since working from home to avoid this daily grind has been disallowed, the best solution is to go into work as early as possible in order to leave as early as possible in order to avoid the worst of it.
Sometimes my situation is such that I can not leave early, i.e. pregnancy, newborn, chronic sleep-deprivation. The punishment is harsh, up to three hours of driving a day, but unavoidable. The key is to know when necessity has ended and habit or laziness has set in.
Since the beginning of 2014, I have made a project of consistently getting to work by 7. This required that I 1) get up earlier than I had been and 2) figure out exactly when I need to leave home to get to work by 7. It is not a linear equation. I have not been completely successful, but have modified my habits enough to see a real return on my time and avoid most of the misery.
In the winter and spring it was difficult, but there was energy is having a new goal and I was unconsciously helped by the increasing daylight. Although it was dark in the morning, the sun would show itself more each day and it seemed to support me in reaching my goals. The summer came with its glorious light. I could push my bedtime later into the night and not pay the consequence in the morning. Whenever the alarm sounded, there was my friend, the sun, shining in my window. Getting up and going was not hard. I wasn't quite getting to work when I wanted, but the schedule was immanently acceptable.
Now the fall is coming. The mornings are dark again. My bedtime is still at its easy summer time. Getting up is hard, and I hit snooze more than I should. My arrival times at work have drifted in the wrong direction. It is still not as terrible as before, but the schedule has ceased to be acceptable.
I know what I need to do but am lacking the motivation and enthusiasm to do it. I do not want to fall back into old habits, and yet find myself staying up late anyway, hitting snooze anyway, going back to sleep anyway. I am waiting for my mental desires to overcome my feelings of inertia. It will happen. Eventually.
I have to wake in the dark. The sun is withdrawing its support and I have to rely on an act of my will. There is no other option right now. I need to accept this fact. The long, dark winter is coming and I still have to go to work. This is difficult.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
The Sisterhood
While scrolling down the timeline on FB, I ran across this little gem of an article. In sum to save you the trouble, the author is tired of talking to men about feminism. She tires of men not immediately buying into the version of reality in her head. She fancies herself an activist, but is tired of having to convince. Um, okay. Here is what makes me want to talk about this: it seems she is arguing that all would be well if it weren't for those pesky men and their unreasonable questioning. Men are the sole source of the troubles. Patriarchy! I look around my office and laugh.
Of course, there are men who minimize and dismiss women simply because they are women. I have even experienced it. There was the time I took Recording class which was overwhelmingly male. The end of semester project was to record and produce a class CD. The two women in the class were assigned the tasks of creating the cover art and the playlist. Do not mistake creating the playlist as meaning to choose what was to be recorded. No. Creating the playlist meant typing out the pieces on a pretty piece of paper that would fit in a CD case. This was not a semester aberration. The women in Recording always were assigned these tasks. My student teaching adviser once told me I needed to do something different with my hair because I was too "sensual" to stand in front of a class. Gross! For the record my hair looks much the same now as it did then. Frizzy, perhaps. Sensual? Not really. I was not the only woman to receive this advice. So, you know, it happens.
But I look around my office and consider my career trajectory, I am stating the truth when I say the oppression I have experienced in the workplace has come at the hands of other women.
I was overdue for a promotion several years ago. My paperwork stalled up the required chain of command because upper management had been subjected to a pay freeze for the year and the person who had to approve my promotion was angry about it. In a snit she declared, "If I'm not getting a raise, nobody is." This declaration was made when I was eight months pregnant.
When I requested that I be allowed to work from home regularly in light of the horrendous construction traffic I had to endure daily, the complete compatibility of my job with remote log-in, and the precedent set by one of my coworkers (male) who worked from home everyday, I was told by my female supervisor it would not be "fair." "If you work from home, other people will want to work from home."
I learned that my job title was in line for a market raise that would adjust our salaries closer to the going market rate. This was going to be a ten thousand dollar raise. We were finally going to be able to stop scraping by and put money in the savings account. Weeks before the raise was set to take effect, my female supervisor told me she had reviewed everyone's job duties in light of our job descriptions and she decided my actual job duties were better described by a different job title. Good-bye raise. It was nice fantasizing about you. Somehow I had held this job for over six years without anyone noticing this "problem." I was the only person in my job group to have a title change. This change was implemented when I was seven months pregnant.
The primary sin of my career has been to gestate in public repeatedly. Every nasty or insensitive comment I have ever received at work about pregnancy or childbirth or motherhood has come from a woman. A man would never dare to say these things even if he thought it. Every career setback I have ever experienced, whether reasonable or unreasonable, has come from the decision a woman made.
Much ink is spilled over the problem of women in the workplace. Why does a pay gap exist? Why are more women not in upper management positions? These problems are almost always framed from the perspective of the striving woman and the oppressing man. How come nobody seems to notice the members of the sisterhood kicking the other women off the ladder?
Of course, there are men who minimize and dismiss women simply because they are women. I have even experienced it. There was the time I took Recording class which was overwhelmingly male. The end of semester project was to record and produce a class CD. The two women in the class were assigned the tasks of creating the cover art and the playlist. Do not mistake creating the playlist as meaning to choose what was to be recorded. No. Creating the playlist meant typing out the pieces on a pretty piece of paper that would fit in a CD case. This was not a semester aberration. The women in Recording always were assigned these tasks. My student teaching adviser once told me I needed to do something different with my hair because I was too "sensual" to stand in front of a class. Gross! For the record my hair looks much the same now as it did then. Frizzy, perhaps. Sensual? Not really. I was not the only woman to receive this advice. So, you know, it happens.
But I look around my office and consider my career trajectory, I am stating the truth when I say the oppression I have experienced in the workplace has come at the hands of other women.
I was overdue for a promotion several years ago. My paperwork stalled up the required chain of command because upper management had been subjected to a pay freeze for the year and the person who had to approve my promotion was angry about it. In a snit she declared, "If I'm not getting a raise, nobody is." This declaration was made when I was eight months pregnant.
When I requested that I be allowed to work from home regularly in light of the horrendous construction traffic I had to endure daily, the complete compatibility of my job with remote log-in, and the precedent set by one of my coworkers (male) who worked from home everyday, I was told by my female supervisor it would not be "fair." "If you work from home, other people will want to work from home."
I learned that my job title was in line for a market raise that would adjust our salaries closer to the going market rate. This was going to be a ten thousand dollar raise. We were finally going to be able to stop scraping by and put money in the savings account. Weeks before the raise was set to take effect, my female supervisor told me she had reviewed everyone's job duties in light of our job descriptions and she decided my actual job duties were better described by a different job title. Good-bye raise. It was nice fantasizing about you. Somehow I had held this job for over six years without anyone noticing this "problem." I was the only person in my job group to have a title change. This change was implemented when I was seven months pregnant.
The primary sin of my career has been to gestate in public repeatedly. Every nasty or insensitive comment I have ever received at work about pregnancy or childbirth or motherhood has come from a woman. A man would never dare to say these things even if he thought it. Every career setback I have ever experienced, whether reasonable or unreasonable, has come from the decision a woman made.
Much ink is spilled over the problem of women in the workplace. Why does a pay gap exist? Why are more women not in upper management positions? These problems are almost always framed from the perspective of the striving woman and the oppressing man. How come nobody seems to notice the members of the sisterhood kicking the other women off the ladder?
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Learning Notes: Linkup for the Week of Sept 7-13
Sunday, Sept 7th
We had an anniversary dinner for my parents' 40th anniversary at Buca di Beppo at the Pope table. If you are unfamiliar, it is a big table in a room that has a bust of the current pope in the center of the lazy Susan that makes up the middle of the table. I am not sure how educational this is, but there were lots of pictures of Popes and churches so, at least, I was entertained.
Right about bedtime, I remembered the girls had school pictures scheduled for Monday. Copious tears from Grace since the shirt she wanted to wear was in the laundry. She went to bed sulking because it wasn't fair. I went downstairs and filled out two sets of paperwork for pictures and wrote two overpriced checks for pictures yet taken that will probably be poor at best. But how do you not buy the school picture?
Monday, Sept 8th
The girls were picked up from school early for doctor appointments. Grace was wearing her preferred shirt that she pulled out of the dirty laundry. They got their physical release forms for cross-country filled out and everyone got a flu shot. Dave says getting a flu shot is apparently the equivalent of getting shot in the leg with an arrow if you are a child. There was much fussing and whining and I got a close up view of how mass hysteria begin. One child would be fine and then another child would moan about how terribly her leg hurt and then the previously fine child would fall to the ground, unable to move due to the terrible pain. I know that shots can hurt and be sore, but this was ridiculous. So all talk of school and educational things took a backseat to discussing the horribleness of flu shots. This is also a banner day: the birthday of the blog!
Tuesday, Sept 9th
Found out in an email in the morning that tomorrow is Burger King night for Grace's class. I loathe Burger King night. You are expected to spend the evening at Burger King collecting receipts from the customers and the teacher gets a percentage from what is collected. The children have a grand time. They love seeing their classmates out and about and pestering the customers for their receipts. There are many things I'd rather be doing and many things I'd rather be eating.
The girls had cross-country practice this afternoon. Lots of cranky children appropriate to their level of tiredness.
Olivia had library today and checked out a Magic Tree House book "Hour of the Olympics." Grace had technology class. Insert rant here.
Grace is having to do a book report on "Phineas L Macguire Gets Slimed" for reading enrichment. She did not choose this book; it was assigned to her. The enrichment period is supposed to give the students more individualized instruction to help with their weaker areas of reading. Since Grace is fairly advanced for her age, she gets to do book reports. I quail. She doesn't seem to mind yet. They both apparently played a lot of computer games today.
Today I read two school emails, two school newletters, one school note about an upcoming fundraiser, one information page about the electronic school record account I need to create, signed two agendas, and discussed with Grace what book of appropriate length she might read for her book log. She is supposed to log 40 books over the course of the school year which means she is choosing books by length instead of worth. Yay.
Read "Firefighters to the Rescue" to Sam. He likes it because firefighters. I don't particularly like it because the verse is disjointed and almost rhymes but doesn't and has no consistent meter. It basically sounds ugly.
Wednesday, Sept 10th
Girl Scout Meeting after school. We are allowing the girls to be Girl Scouts again. Sigh. The sacrifices we make. Last year was a hot mess where the larger troop got caught between warring adults and they split the troop. The year was mostly a loss so I feel somewhat obligated to let the girls try again. Honestly, troop drama aside, I have been less than impressed with the Girl Scouts. I just can't shake the feeling it is all a marketing ruse to get little girls and their families to support the lifestyles of the people in the larger organization. It is all fundraisers and money. And true to form the meeting consisted of filling out paperwork for a new fundraiser.
Both girls had PE today. Olivia read "The Snowy Day" by Ezra Jack Keats to herself. I think it was more perusing than actual reading. She also studied apples. Signed two agendas. Avoided looking at the Girl Scout fundraiser packet.
Burger King night. Yay. I got to talk to Grace's math teacher who said she was a great math student. The rest of the evening was spent trying to keep Sam from throwing himself in front of a car in the drive-thru.
Thursday, Sept 11th
The girls had cross country again. Olivia had library again, but kept the same book since she had just had library on Tuesday. Grace was supposed to have library too, but instead they went to a school wide assembly for another FUNDRAISER! Not much talk today because mastitis snuck up on me. Signed one agenda.
Friday, Sept 12th
A lazy day for me since I stayed home from work. The girls got home from school and started working on Olivia's math homework. Grace would read her the instructions and Olivia would complete the work. They didn't even argue or anything. Overheard: "That's not a box; that's a hexagon." The work consisted of counting and drawing the specified number of whatever. "Philip sees 8 starts in the sky. Finish drawing the stars Philip sees."
Olivia gets a monthly homework calendar with work to complete for each day, but it isn't actually due until the end of the month. We boom and bust on the homework which distresses Olivia a little bit. She wants to complete the work on the day it appears on the calendar. Since she cannot work independently yet, doing her homework requires someone to sit there and handhold her through the work. That's awfully hard to do every night somewhere between 7 and 8. Mostly she will do a week's worth of homework in a long sitting and then go another week without touching it.
Both girls had art today. I think art is Olivia's favorite class. She drew a lizard. Grace's class did pop art and had to draw a favorite food. Grace chose breakfast and drew pancakes, eggs, sausage, and bacon, but was upset because she forgot the orange juice.
At supper we had an impromptu talk about Fibonacci sequence that was inspired by the spirals swirling in Dave's beer. After supper with an assist from GeekLady, we watched this little movie on the sequence.
Signed two agendas and a homework page. Read one note from cross country and am resolutely avoiding looking through the large packet that came home with the latest school fundraiser. Anyone want to buy a magazine?
Saturday, Sept 13th
At breakfast this morning, Grace announced she wanted to make cheetah cookies for the parish picnic tomorrow. I said no. Decorating cookies is not on my to-do list. But, in a fit of strange enthusiasm, I told her she could look through the recipe books and pick something that wasn't so complicated. She decided on Apricot Spice Bars. While I showered, she read out the ingredients and Dave told her if we had it in the house. If we didn't, she wrote it on our shopping list. After I was ready to go, we went shopping.
Grace and I go to the store with Marian, who screams for nearly the entire visit, and quickly discover that we need a little more information. The recipe calls for cardamon or you can substitute ground cloves. We walk to the spice area and the first jar of cardamon I spy is SIXTEEN DOLLARS! Well. Maybe cloves will work just as well, coming in at a little over $5. Then I spot another jar of cardamon in a different brand for $8. So is it worth the extra three dollars to get the cardamon or will the cloves be fine? What exactly is cardamon? I have no idea, but I know who will. Out comes the cell phone to call my MIL. Graces talks to Grandma to learn the difference between cardamon and cloves. She gets a brief lesson and we are assured that the cloves will be just fine. The rest of the shopping proceeds without incident.
When it is time to make the bars, we decide to double the recipe so we have a brief discussion on multiplying and reducing fractions. I am told repeatedly that this is not fraction class. I tell her she has to understand in order to correctly execute the recipe. She acquiesces. After I am sure she understands why 1/4 is 1/8 doubled, we begin assembling the ingredients. She reads out the ingredient and the measure and then doubles it. We take turns measuring out each ingredient. I am impressed with how she uses the scrapping edge on the baking powder to level out her teaspoon. She certainly didn't learn that from me. She also knows how to sift. Cooking with Grandma has paid dividends. We carefully combine everything including two room temperature eggs, taking a minute to examine the texture of the egg whites before lightly beating them.
We popped the bars in the oven and then made a glaze to go on top. The recipe called for 2-3 teaspoons of orange juice and a half cup of sifted powdered sugar. I misread the teaspoon and put 2 tablespoons of juice into our powdered sugar. I explained to Grace that since this was just a glaze, the exact measurement didn't really matter and we could just add more powdered sugar until it looked right. The bars baked and now we are waiting for them to cool to try them and see how they turned out.
Since I don't do a lot in the kitchen, I am always surprised by how educational cooking is. In other news, a box turtle was found in the yard which was duly stared at and Olivia was eating the seeds of a passionfruit she found in the yard. They learn early what is edible and what is not.
Thanks to Melanie for hosting!
We had an anniversary dinner for my parents' 40th anniversary at Buca di Beppo at the Pope table. If you are unfamiliar, it is a big table in a room that has a bust of the current pope in the center of the lazy Susan that makes up the middle of the table. I am not sure how educational this is, but there were lots of pictures of Popes and churches so, at least, I was entertained.
Right about bedtime, I remembered the girls had school pictures scheduled for Monday. Copious tears from Grace since the shirt she wanted to wear was in the laundry. She went to bed sulking because it wasn't fair. I went downstairs and filled out two sets of paperwork for pictures and wrote two overpriced checks for pictures yet taken that will probably be poor at best. But how do you not buy the school picture?
Monday, Sept 8th
The girls were picked up from school early for doctor appointments. Grace was wearing her preferred shirt that she pulled out of the dirty laundry. They got their physical release forms for cross-country filled out and everyone got a flu shot. Dave says getting a flu shot is apparently the equivalent of getting shot in the leg with an arrow if you are a child. There was much fussing and whining and I got a close up view of how mass hysteria begin. One child would be fine and then another child would moan about how terribly her leg hurt and then the previously fine child would fall to the ground, unable to move due to the terrible pain. I know that shots can hurt and be sore, but this was ridiculous. So all talk of school and educational things took a backseat to discussing the horribleness of flu shots. This is also a banner day: the birthday of the blog!
Tuesday, Sept 9th
Found out in an email in the morning that tomorrow is Burger King night for Grace's class. I loathe Burger King night. You are expected to spend the evening at Burger King collecting receipts from the customers and the teacher gets a percentage from what is collected. The children have a grand time. They love seeing their classmates out and about and pestering the customers for their receipts. There are many things I'd rather be doing and many things I'd rather be eating.
The girls had cross-country practice this afternoon. Lots of cranky children appropriate to their level of tiredness.
Olivia had library today and checked out a Magic Tree House book "Hour of the Olympics." Grace had technology class. Insert rant here.
Grace is having to do a book report on "Phineas L Macguire Gets Slimed" for reading enrichment. She did not choose this book; it was assigned to her. The enrichment period is supposed to give the students more individualized instruction to help with their weaker areas of reading. Since Grace is fairly advanced for her age, she gets to do book reports. I quail. She doesn't seem to mind yet. They both apparently played a lot of computer games today.
Today I read two school emails, two school newletters, one school note about an upcoming fundraiser, one information page about the electronic school record account I need to create, signed two agendas, and discussed with Grace what book of appropriate length she might read for her book log. She is supposed to log 40 books over the course of the school year which means she is choosing books by length instead of worth. Yay.
Read "Firefighters to the Rescue" to Sam. He likes it because firefighters. I don't particularly like it because the verse is disjointed and almost rhymes but doesn't and has no consistent meter. It basically sounds ugly.
Wednesday, Sept 10th
Girl Scout Meeting after school. We are allowing the girls to be Girl Scouts again. Sigh. The sacrifices we make. Last year was a hot mess where the larger troop got caught between warring adults and they split the troop. The year was mostly a loss so I feel somewhat obligated to let the girls try again. Honestly, troop drama aside, I have been less than impressed with the Girl Scouts. I just can't shake the feeling it is all a marketing ruse to get little girls and their families to support the lifestyles of the people in the larger organization. It is all fundraisers and money. And true to form the meeting consisted of filling out paperwork for a new fundraiser.
Both girls had PE today. Olivia read "The Snowy Day" by Ezra Jack Keats to herself. I think it was more perusing than actual reading. She also studied apples. Signed two agendas. Avoided looking at the Girl Scout fundraiser packet.
Burger King night. Yay. I got to talk to Grace's math teacher who said she was a great math student. The rest of the evening was spent trying to keep Sam from throwing himself in front of a car in the drive-thru.
Thursday, Sept 11th
The girls had cross country again. Olivia had library again, but kept the same book since she had just had library on Tuesday. Grace was supposed to have library too, but instead they went to a school wide assembly for another FUNDRAISER! Not much talk today because mastitis snuck up on me. Signed one agenda.
Friday, Sept 12th
A lazy day for me since I stayed home from work. The girls got home from school and started working on Olivia's math homework. Grace would read her the instructions and Olivia would complete the work. They didn't even argue or anything. Overheard: "That's not a box; that's a hexagon." The work consisted of counting and drawing the specified number of whatever. "Philip sees 8 starts in the sky. Finish drawing the stars Philip sees."
Olivia gets a monthly homework calendar with work to complete for each day, but it isn't actually due until the end of the month. We boom and bust on the homework which distresses Olivia a little bit. She wants to complete the work on the day it appears on the calendar. Since she cannot work independently yet, doing her homework requires someone to sit there and handhold her through the work. That's awfully hard to do every night somewhere between 7 and 8. Mostly she will do a week's worth of homework in a long sitting and then go another week without touching it.
Both girls had art today. I think art is Olivia's favorite class. She drew a lizard. Grace's class did pop art and had to draw a favorite food. Grace chose breakfast and drew pancakes, eggs, sausage, and bacon, but was upset because she forgot the orange juice.
At supper we had an impromptu talk about Fibonacci sequence that was inspired by the spirals swirling in Dave's beer. After supper with an assist from GeekLady, we watched this little movie on the sequence.
Signed two agendas and a homework page. Read one note from cross country and am resolutely avoiding looking through the large packet that came home with the latest school fundraiser. Anyone want to buy a magazine?
Saturday, Sept 13th
At breakfast this morning, Grace announced she wanted to make cheetah cookies for the parish picnic tomorrow. I said no. Decorating cookies is not on my to-do list. But, in a fit of strange enthusiasm, I told her she could look through the recipe books and pick something that wasn't so complicated. She decided on Apricot Spice Bars. While I showered, she read out the ingredients and Dave told her if we had it in the house. If we didn't, she wrote it on our shopping list. After I was ready to go, we went shopping.
Grace and I go to the store with Marian, who screams for nearly the entire visit, and quickly discover that we need a little more information. The recipe calls for cardamon or you can substitute ground cloves. We walk to the spice area and the first jar of cardamon I spy is SIXTEEN DOLLARS! Well. Maybe cloves will work just as well, coming in at a little over $5. Then I spot another jar of cardamon in a different brand for $8. So is it worth the extra three dollars to get the cardamon or will the cloves be fine? What exactly is cardamon? I have no idea, but I know who will. Out comes the cell phone to call my MIL. Graces talks to Grandma to learn the difference between cardamon and cloves. She gets a brief lesson and we are assured that the cloves will be just fine. The rest of the shopping proceeds without incident.
When it is time to make the bars, we decide to double the recipe so we have a brief discussion on multiplying and reducing fractions. I am told repeatedly that this is not fraction class. I tell her she has to understand in order to correctly execute the recipe. She acquiesces. After I am sure she understands why 1/4 is 1/8 doubled, we begin assembling the ingredients. She reads out the ingredient and the measure and then doubles it. We take turns measuring out each ingredient. I am impressed with how she uses the scrapping edge on the baking powder to level out her teaspoon. She certainly didn't learn that from me. She also knows how to sift. Cooking with Grandma has paid dividends. We carefully combine everything including two room temperature eggs, taking a minute to examine the texture of the egg whites before lightly beating them.
We popped the bars in the oven and then made a glaze to go on top. The recipe called for 2-3 teaspoons of orange juice and a half cup of sifted powdered sugar. I misread the teaspoon and put 2 tablespoons of juice into our powdered sugar. I explained to Grace that since this was just a glaze, the exact measurement didn't really matter and we could just add more powdered sugar until it looked right. The bars baked and now we are waiting for them to cool to try them and see how they turned out.
Since I don't do a lot in the kitchen, I am always surprised by how educational cooking is. In other news, a box turtle was found in the yard which was duly stared at and Olivia was eating the seeds of a passionfruit she found in the yard. They learn early what is edible and what is not.
Thanks to Melanie for hosting!
Thursday, September 11, 2014
The Paradox of Music Lessons
Since Dave and I both graduated from college with Bachelor of Music degrees, we always assumed that, of course, our children would have music lessons from an early age. In my pre-child mind's eye, each child would begin piano lessons at age six or seven and progress onward from there. In reality, this just hasn't happened. I feel mildly guilty about this state of affairs. Of course, it helps that only one child is really old enough for individual instrument lessons.
The crux of the issue is the cost of the lessons. The sad fact is we could probably scrimp and afford to have one child in lessons. Two children in lessons is out of the question. We will eventually have four children in need of lessons. There is a local studio that offers lessons for $94 a month. It adds up quick.
So for awhile, I had the thought that I would give them beginning piano lessons myself. Piano is not my major instrument and, the piano proficiency required to graduate aside, I am not a piano player. I am a hack at best. When I say hack, I don't mean what people say when they can basically play but it isn't performance level. I mean slowly, badly, painfully while looking at my fingers hack. Tempo: Largo. But I do know enough for beginning piano.
There isn't enough room in our house for a piano so we bought a keyboard and put it in the only place it would fit, the corner of my bedroom. In front of the keyboard is a pile of the girls' work from school and actually accessing the keyboard is difficult. Cleaning up the pile has been on a low priority for a long time. Over a year. Possibly two. Until that pile is cleaned, I don't really see a way for me to either give a lesson or for them to take a lesson. Logistics are troublesome.
The interesting paradox with the music lessons is that same studio approached me looking for a clarinet teacher. They were willing to pay me $12 a lesson. I have a college degree in clarinet; my expertise is worth more than $12. I am not willing to work for that amount. I find it mildly insulting. High school kids can command $10 a lesson. I declined the offer. It is not worth the trouble for such a piddling amount of money.
The irony is I cannot afford to pay what would be necessary for me to be willing to give lessons. I cannot afford myself. I want my children to have music lessons and I also want music professionals to be given the financial consideration they deserve in light of their qualifications. These ideas are mutually exclusive at my house. Maybe I'll get that pile cleaned up soon.
The crux of the issue is the cost of the lessons. The sad fact is we could probably scrimp and afford to have one child in lessons. Two children in lessons is out of the question. We will eventually have four children in need of lessons. There is a local studio that offers lessons for $94 a month. It adds up quick.
So for awhile, I had the thought that I would give them beginning piano lessons myself. Piano is not my major instrument and, the piano proficiency required to graduate aside, I am not a piano player. I am a hack at best. When I say hack, I don't mean what people say when they can basically play but it isn't performance level. I mean slowly, badly, painfully while looking at my fingers hack. Tempo: Largo. But I do know enough for beginning piano.
There isn't enough room in our house for a piano so we bought a keyboard and put it in the only place it would fit, the corner of my bedroom. In front of the keyboard is a pile of the girls' work from school and actually accessing the keyboard is difficult. Cleaning up the pile has been on a low priority for a long time. Over a year. Possibly two. Until that pile is cleaned, I don't really see a way for me to either give a lesson or for them to take a lesson. Logistics are troublesome.
The interesting paradox with the music lessons is that same studio approached me looking for a clarinet teacher. They were willing to pay me $12 a lesson. I have a college degree in clarinet; my expertise is worth more than $12. I am not willing to work for that amount. I find it mildly insulting. High school kids can command $10 a lesson. I declined the offer. It is not worth the trouble for such a piddling amount of money.
The irony is I cannot afford to pay what would be necessary for me to be willing to give lessons. I cannot afford myself. I want my children to have music lessons and I also want music professionals to be given the financial consideration they deserve in light of their qualifications. These ideas are mutually exclusive at my house. Maybe I'll get that pile cleaned up soon.
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