To the dress?  
You're so predictable Blog Voices.  So predictable.
No, not to the dress.  In fact, I said no to the man who proposed to me.
Ummm, what? 
That's not what this blog is about.
Well, that's what we want to read about.
Anyway...


I said yes to my life, metaphorically speaking.


The other day I missed a call from my cousin while I was at work so I text her and got this back.

My initial thought: What?  This is the most incredible opportunity, but I can't go to the Caribbean in two weeks.

That's so soon.
I have to work.
I'll never be able to take a full week off work.
That would be insane.
Who would watch Scout?
There is no way.

This is totally a motto I live by (well, until I met Erica.  She always puts me to shame.  So does Dawn, but generally speaking, I work my ass off)

And then I started thinking...Katie, SAY YES.  How many times in your life are you offered an almost free trip to the Caribbean?  These are those opportunities that you DON'T pass up for work.

I love my job...more than most people I know.  It's way more than a job to me.  The people I work with are like family to me.  The work we do is critical to the lives of children and still...it's a job.  Remember when I wrote Don't Skip Dinner?  Well this is me...not skipping dinner.

I had to write a letter to the board.
My boss had to give me an official "Verbal Warning."
So far I've had to figure out a new plan for fifty things that are happening that week at work.
My pay will be docked for 3 of the 6 days I'm off.

But this is me...not skipping dinner and saying yes.  I leave for Grenada the day after my birthday.   Hashtag: Happy Birthday to me!



I'm packing a suitcase full of swimsuits, books, flip-flops...and not a single pair of heels.  I'm going to leave work behind and spend a week on Casa, ASS' (Aunt Super Suzanne...but you can call her ASS too, everyone does) catamaran.   We will fill our days with snorkling, swimming, picking fresh fruit from the trees and basking in the sun.  I said yes (and a big fat thank you to all parties concerned).
Say yes to your life.  Work will be there in the morning.


We like your blog but where did we land on that proposal story? 

I am a judgemental !@#$%.  Everyone who knows me would say that.  No !@#$ Katie.  I don't know if it's an inherent quality, something I grew into or something I have done most when I have been the least secure.

In related news, I also believe that God is constantly trying to teach us lessons.  God, The Universe, our guardians angels...someone or something is always teaching us.  I don't know that things just happen by chance.  Also, I often want to punch God in the face for constantly trying to teach me !@#$.  Hashtag: YOU know why God.

Some things in life have always seemed so simple.

Don't let a man hit you.  Not really sure why any woman would allow that.

Don't be with an alcoholic.  Only stupid people do that.


Cut. And. Dry.

I read a book called, It Ends with Us, that has forever changed my view of women who stay with men who emotionally or physically abuse them.  Because the first time is just a fluke and the next time "I provoked him" and the next time...and they all seem valid.

And, most recently, I dated a guy who is an alcoholic...and I found myself doing the same thing.  The first time was "because it's the weekend and everyone parties on the weekend."  Tons of people get DUIs.  Then it was, "almost everyone imbibes more than you do Katie." Next time it was because it was a casino and everyone drinks at a casino.  Next time was because it was 7:30 am and lots of people cure hangovers with more liquor.

And, for a very short time, I envisioned life with this man...five years down the road.  My judgy eyes began to blur and I saw why...

Why people stay in abusive relationships.
Why people do everything in their power to help and fix and make it work with substance abusers.

And rather than getting angry I realized, possibly for the first time, that rather than God trying to teach me patience, perhaps, he was trying to teach me to be less critical and more open?

Because that alcoholic?  He's a GREAT guy and we connected hard, almost instantly.  And he's funny and way smarter than me and he just has that one, tiny flaw.  85% good, 15% shit...as we all are.  That being said, I do have some limits and although I may move my line a bit, there are some things I just can't live with...but I can be sympathetic to them.

And so I say...for today God, I don't want to punch you in the face.  Thanks for the lessons.  May I continue my journey towards open minded thinking and a persona that puts everyone at ease.

Have you heard of a Vision Board?  You cut out pictures and words and display it.

In true Katie Cartier fashion, I half-way did that.   Wait, that's not true Katie Cartier.  You go all in with everything.  Let me clarify.  I went 150% with it and then quit.  Ohhh, yes, THAT is true Katie Cartier.  Sidenote: This is how Tom described me.  Katie, you don't go half way with anything.  It's not Crossfit.  It's CROSSFIT!  KOMBUCHA!  COLD BREW COFFEE!  Yeah, you right.

So, VISION BOARD! but I had to make mine much more SMART Goal oriented.

Here was my process...

- Decide my goals for the year...CHECK
- Type them up and put cute little icons with them...CHECK
- Print them out
- Put them on the perfect Vision Board that Kelli bought for me

I had a little trouble when I got to the printing them out part.  They are still safely on my computer...half way Katie.

Let's go over what I have actually done on the board.  Just a heads up, the whole thing is pretty doom and gloom but I am excelling in one area.  Wait for it...
 Haven't done anything.  I've barely even walked my dog.  !@#$.

That's all I'm asking...

ONE. DAY. OF. SHIT.

Can we please get ONE day where everyone on Facebook just posts the shit in their lives?  I'm SO tired of looking at this glossy, filtered posts.

I got a new job!
We took a great vacation!
My kids are so cute!
Here are some amazing words of wisdom that spoke to me!
Watch how well I can craft sentences and make them sound beautiful!
I'm skinny!
My face doesn't have any wrinkles!

No, that's not what your posts actually say but we can all read between the lines.

Let's get real for God sakes!


Now, before you pinch me with those fake posting fingers, you have to know I'm totally talking to myself too!  I'm a card carrying member of the "humble brag" at times and you know if I call you out, I'll call me out too.

Let me translate my last few posts into what was really happening or what I was really saying...







Yep, I do it too but since we're gettin' real in this post, lemme tell you, I kinda wanted to go through my feed and grab a ton of other people's posts, throw them up here and blast 'em.   You're such a b!@#$ Kathryn and that last sentences was a total run on.  #growupkatie.  Yeah, you right.

But, for real...Can we puh-lease, for one day, post what's actually happening because the "try and make things look perfect" kinda makes me wanna hurl.  Guess what?  Your life isn't fucking perfect and none are the rest of ours are either!

Did you lose your !@#$ at work?  Tell us!
Did you raise your hand to actually punch your kid before, quickly, realizing you could go to jail for that? Tell us!
Have you watched Netflix for 16 hours straight and began melting into your couch?  Tell us!
Posting a picture of your workout?  Do it, and then tell us how it's the first time you've moved your ass since May!
Are you the world's worst homemaker and eat out more than you cook for your family?  Tell us!
Haven't bathed your children in days?  They smell like a mixture of dirt and syrup?  Tell us!
Have you fantasized about pulling a Loraina Bobbit on your husband?  Tell us!

I'm not saying we should all vent all over and play whoa was me to the general public, but can we please mix it up a bit and when you do brag, just go ahead and throw a little: #humblebrag up there.

LET'S. GET. REAL.  Still be funny...but real.

Thoughts?

PS.  In case you kinda liked this post but would like to read a much nicer and less cussy version of it, I wrote Greener Grass years ago and it pretty much says the same thing in MUCH more flowery words.

96% of our students are on free and reduced lunch.
Some of our kids don't eat when they aren't at school.
They won't have a Christmas because they don't have any money.

I say these sentences so often that they have almost become meaningless.  I've worked in the same neighborhoods for so many years that I have become a professional at teaching teachers "where our kids come from."

This conversation has happened a number of times in various forms but usually goes like this...
An exasperated teacher comes to me, "He didn't do his homework...again!"
"I hear that you're frustrated", I say, "but can you answer two questions about him for me?  How many people live at his house and how many beds are there?"
"I don't know," says the brand new teacher who was raised in a neighborhood much like mine.
"Go find out and then come back."
"With her eyes wide the baby teacher returns, "7 and 2."
And our conversation about why he didn't do his homework comes to a close.

Because every time I look at a dirty child who has worn the same shirt four times in a row
or
pretend not to notice that the teacher gave a kid all of the extra snacks in their classroom to take home
or
listen to a girl tell me they won't have Christmas but what she really wants is a blanket because she gets cold at night

I look into their eyes ask the same two questions...
1.  How many people live at your house?
2.  How many beds do you have?

and gives me a gentle reminder of where I work...and a sense of gratitude.

I can't change where they live or that they may sleep on the ground, but I can send one e-mail and get that kid a new shirt, a new pair of shoes, or a sweater.

There are good people who donate to strangers and because our kids need it, we reap the benefits of numerous donations.


This year was a banner year for Christmas adoptions.  One Facebook post and my family and friends came out in droves.  The Walker Family filled my car and said, "We got everything on the list."  The Bowker's had a stack of beautifully wrapped presents adorned with little candies on top.  The Campbell Family text me to check on wish list items and sizes before bringing their gifts to school.  The Cartier Family had the best looking gift bags with names attached to each one.  The Koenig's came with me and was able to look into the eyes of kids who were thrilled and gave timid and thankful hugs to the stranger that helped make Christmas brighter.  The Smith's hooked up with their daughter, who is the boss, to help a family in need.  The Mazon's are headed to the house tomorrow to gift gifts for the second year in a row.  Barbara, our Office Queen, made phone calls, found families, kept tons of paperwork straight and met my every demand when I said things like, "I need a family of 3 and I need small girls," or sent a last minute text, "Our 7th grader isn't going to have Christmas.  We have get her a blanket."  

This endeavor is not cheap and all of these people have children and families of their own but they can do a little more...so they do.  Cheers to them and everyone who does anything selfless.

They don't do it for the thank you.
They don't post it on Facebook.
They just do.


Yesterday I left the confines of my safe little school.  We are situated in a typical middle class neighborhood and I watch kids walk to school in the morning so I forget that they are not walking from the houses near school.  I headed out , as Mrs. Claus, with our Officer to some of the homes where our students live.

I dropped off gifts to a family who lives in a tiny trailer-1 room, at the most.  Four people came outside and dad was at work.  Five people live in that space.  We drove through one of the complexes that feed into our school.  Kindergarteners ran past the obvious drug addicts that live near them to give us hugs and high fives.  I peered down the way and said, "There's one of our 3rd graders doing homework on the ground outside."  Our Officer says, "There at nine people who live there.  That's probably where she does homework every day."

I was reminded again, I know such good people and and those gifts went to families in need.

If you haven't, yet, do something for someone else today.

Newsflash to the novice readers of Katie's blog:  I'm a planner.
Completely non-exciting and very typical information for Katie's family and friends:  I'm a planner.

Funtinerary?  Every trip.  Every vacation.  Every time.  Here's a great way to drive me completely insane when I ask what I should plan.  "Nothing.  We don't have a plan and we're not going to have a plan."  LPIMH:  WITAF (new acronym for: what in the actual fuck)?

Agendas at Meetings?  Not only are they written but they are posted on the board and sent out prior to meetings, always with the caveat of: This is just tentative.  I'm totally open to suggestions.  That really means:  This is set is GD stone and if you try and change anything or get us off track, I'll cut you.  Just kidding(ish)...to all of the people I work with (and who evaluate me)!

Presenting during a Meeting?  Always written out, always ends in deadlines and calendar invites because...is there any other way?  I'm sure there is but we We?  Ok, I call those "stir the pot meetings."

Everyone stands around the soup and says, "Hmm, that looks like it needs more celery?"
"I think we should add potatoes."
"I hope it tastes good."
"Let's just stir it and see how it looks then."

Meanwhile, nobody ever adds the celery, potatoes or EATS THE DAMN SOUP!  In meetings I attend, we eat soup or, at the very least, make very specific plans to eat the soup every time.


Having a Dinner Party?  Lists, lists, lists and post-its and more lists.  Lists for what you need.  Lists for times everything should be done.  Posts on all ingredients and what they will be used for.  Perhaps a list of games that will be played.  Umm, Monica?  Calm the eff down! 

Life?  Completely planned out.  In case you just met me or have never read my blog before, my "plan" isn't going as planned.

Thus...after reading above, I have really nailed home the fact that I am, in fact, a planner.  Thank you Kathryn, we had no idea before all those examples. 

But...as it turns out, Life doesn't go as planned and because, either, God thinks He's funny or as the greatest display of irony, some of my favorite moments are the ones that didn't go as planned.

Driving: We drove from California to Arizona and back at least three times a year.  We had a total routine, one which I will someday elaborate. Liar, you never go back and write about the things you say you will.  Preview: Drive to Blythe.  Stop at McDonald's.  Dad's order: Quarter pounder with cheese, no ketchup.  Mom's order:  ? I can't remember.  Kids order: 20 piece nuggets and large fries to share.  Secret order: McDonald Land cookies for later.  We even had a routine playlist.



The ride I remember the most: When Moddie the Aottie (short for automobile) broke down in Death Valley for HOURS, middle of the summer.  We were sweating our actual faces off.
Hashtag: Didn't go as planned.

Thanksgiving: I was so thrilled for Tom, Danielle and the kids to come.  We had big plans to go out for a girls night and head off to all of their favorite AZ spots.  Everyone got sick.  Lily got strep throat.  Danielle got some sort of flu plague.  Philip got strep throat.  Katie got something plaguey.  Tom stayed healthy.  We laid around, cooking plans turned into baskets full of medicine, we quarantined off areas of the house and we still had a wonderful time.
Hashtag: Didn't go as planned.



Growing up:  The routine was: Eat dinner, play a little, take a bath, read a book, bed.  My favorite nights were the ones where we threw the routine out the window.  Pancakes for dinner in the living room, on the big blanket?  Yes.  Skip the bath for a "jacuzzi bath" where Tom and I would dare each other to jump in the pool and swim to the deep end, even though we could get eaten by the giant shark that lived in there after dark.
Hashtag:  Didn't go as planned.


Babies: My nephew decided to make his debut into the world 5 weeks early, on the 4th of July.  I'll never forget getting a phone call from Danielle, "Umm, I think my water just broke but it couldn't have.  We're going to the hospital to check but I'm sure I'll be back home.  I'll keep you updated."  Next call, from Danielle's sister, "Danielle is definitely in labor."  We loaded up my Aunt Suzanne's bug and watched the fireworks as we drove into Denver to meet my nephew.  If he had been born according to plan, I would have been back to work and wouldn't have been able to spend the next 7 days soaking up that baby and being with my sister.
Hashtag: Didn't go as planned.


Traveling: I was supposed to meet a friend on the way home from Nicaragua but it didn't happen.  Rather than mope around my hotel room, I pulled my !@#$ together and headed down to the hotel bar.  I met some new friends, drank plenty of wine, laughed a lot, and ended up having a fabulous night.
Hashtag:  Didn't go as planned.


I'm beginning to think it's not the plans that go as planned that make up our life's memories, it's all those times that went awry.  


Is your life going according to plan?  No?  Didn't think so.  Mine either.  Perfect is boring.  I'm glad to be in the company of hot messes!  However, please don't invite me to your meeting if you don't have an agenda.  I have to have some boundaries.