I am stuck between two Nellie's today. One Nellie would love to invite you to her pity party and wallow in shitty, sad music together. Maybe we cry while we bitch about our current situations, maybe we just sit together and know. When I was younger it was very common for my parents to disregard what I was saying, tone police, and make me apologize for any perceived slights to them or their circle. I faced the same through my marriage. I swallowed my words and shrunk myself to fit the ideal daughter or wife. I didn't ask for what I needed or speak up to address what I considered disrespectful treatment. And now that I don't want to melt into the woodwork or rock the boat or constantly stifle myself, it feels selfish and wrong. Often I find myself waiting too long to address situations, and then I have to face the consequences that come with it. For example, recently, I had a meeting scheduled and of course, life happens. The meeting ended up starting later than expected and lasted much longer than expected. NBF was waiting for me to help with dinner, and because of the meeting, we had to start dinner over an hour later than expected. Dinner needed to bake for an hour and a half on top of that. Needless to say, NBF was rightfully irritated. I let both of us down that night. In my mind, I need to be flexible because life is like a toddler without a nap sometimes. But also, I find it highly disrespectful to abuse someone else's time. Then I think, well Nellie, that is a Nellie problem. Have you ever thought your standards are too high, and that you need to adapt. Yes that is true, but how much is too much? Where is the line? And then we circle back and repeat. I think I liked healing my mind, heart, and soul better, when I was actively ignoring the problems.
If I am being truly honest with myself, ever since my burnout last year, I have much less tolerance for stress than ever before. I think much like elastic, we can stretch ourselves to a point where it doesn't snap back anymore. Then we become the droopy underwear you only depend on for laundry day when you have nothing else. Okay, even pity party me thinks I am better than broken elastic underwear, but I still don't think the analogy is far off. The other Nellie wants to tell a story about a memory that popped up and brought her a sparkle of nostalgia. I am sure I have mentioned this before, but the hot cocoa here is so much thicker and smoother than anything I remember at home. Granted, our go to at home was a cocoa you made with water because well, poverty. My mom used to mix cocoa, powdered milk, and sugar in a huge tupperware bowl. It lasted most of the winter. However, we were only allowed ONE spoon of mix for our mug. Child logic overruled reason during those times. I could have simply added less water and had better flavor, but more water meant more hot cocoa. Fast forward to the other day when I was making cocoa with milk and as much cocoa and sugar as I wanted. I sat down cupping my hands around the mug, letting the steam warm the tip of my cold nose. Outside, it was just becoming light and the pink was painted onto the clouds. Snow covered our veranda. It was perfect cocoa weather. The first sip sparked the synapses. In an instant I was whisked back to my very first sip of cocoa in Norway. Christmas celebrations and decorations are in full swing in November over here. Part of it is because the lights are an important part of the season when there are so many hours of darkness. The other part is that many Norwegians start using, it is almost Christmas, we should wait until after the New Year in early December. If any community Christmas-ing is to be done, it has to begin in November. If I remember right, our school Christmas party happened right around American Thanksgiving that year. But we started with cocoa.... That first year, we took all the first through third graders on a field trip to old town in Fredrikstad to tour a bit of the town and to see a Christmas play. We played at a playground until our fingers were numb. I guess maybe I should say until my fingers were numb. I was arguing with kids about at least keeping their hats on and pushing their mittens into their pockets so they didn't get lost. When it was time for the play, the kids were thrilled. The pointing and giggling commenced as only six year olds know how to do it. For myself, I understood very little except that the children were having the time of their lives laughing at these Christmas nisser/thieves stealing the Christmas ham. After the play, we all went outside for cocoa and buns. At first, I declined the cooca, instead busying myself making sure the kids all had a bun and refills and attempting to keep spills to a minimum. When the kids were all but finished I had a cup of cocoa pushed into one hand and a bun into the other. I had to admit the warmth felt so good in my hands and on my nose. The aroma was so rich and sweet, and the warm, doughy bun spun its smell around the chocolatey cocoa goodness. Once I tasted the cocoa, the flavors danced on my tongue, and the bite of the bun that followed sealed it all into my memories. I had never tasted such thick, smooth, sweet, and delicious cocoa. The child in my mind wanted nothing more than to fall into a river of Norwegian hot cocoa much like Augustus Gloop in Willy Wonka. The second half of that cup was much harder to drink than the first. It is so rich and so sweet, that a small dose will fill you but also create an craving and memory that will last a lifetime. I have always found it fascinating that your senses can stir memories. I had almost forgotten this memory until that sip of cocoa the other day. I am glad I took the time to spoil myself and relive a magical moment in Norway.
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Landing in Oslo at nine, I had a four whole hours before I would leave for Ireland. I had envisioned going to the car with Tony and leaving to have a peaceful coffee before I jetted away for work. A flat tire changed those plans. The good news is that I learned how to work my car's air pump, the bad news was I had to simply trade my bag and walk head hanging back into the airport. There really wasn't any sense in fooling about, so I checked in through security and found a place to charge the batteries on my phone and my body. I was already tired, and the day had just started. Make no mistake, I was excited, just exhausted. A lot of firsts were packed into this trip. I had never been to Ireland. I had never been to an IB conference. I had never landed in an airport only to face a turnaround of mere hours before beginning my next adventure. Not to mention, I had decided, along with my teammate, that we were going to begin taking advantage of our company's hybrid office policy. Since I was going to Ireland, I needed to stay a few days for being a tourist and so that when I say, "I have been to Ireland," it wasn't going to be followed by, "but only for a work conference." Before leaving, I had booked an Airbnb and would do three days of home office from a small flat in the heart of Dublin. Add that to the list of things I never thought I would say! Imagine me sipping my tea, pinkie out, "Why yes, Samantha, I will have home office from Dublin. Feel free to reach out." The good news was once I landed, I could crash at the hotel until noon the next day. The bad news was the time switch going to the states was the easy one this time. ugh! The IB conference was overwhelming. I geek out about educator get togethers, anyway because I love to see how our field shines, sparkles, and grows. And then there were all the vendors! And books, lord have mercy I could have spent my year's salary. At least I won a book, so I didn't feel like I NEEDED to buy more. Right from the opening speeches and student performances, I was hooked. This, this right here was an affirmation about all that is good in our profession. I met so many people and spoke to so many service providers, the emails are still pouring in. I spent my days attending conference sessions and my nights proofreading a document that I had promised, recklessly I might add, to deliver on the Monday following the conference. There were sessions about diversity, technology, and well-being. I had some trouble choosing at some points. Do I focus on the perks of AI or the value of inclusion? There were a couple of hiccups that cast small shadows on my time. I had mistakenly booked my hotel for one day too little, so I had to make a mid conference switch. I think all of my #nellie travel snafus have made things like this seem like minor inconveniences. However, I was really disappointed to have missed the last bus to the Guinness Storehouse. This was THE event of our conference, a dinner and live music performances along with a tour of the site. I misread the schedule, though, and when I walked to the convention center I found I had missed the last bus by ten minutes. Sigh. The most meaningful session for me was a last minute choice by Dr. Emma Kell. She gave a talk on the importance of self care and well being. I know, I know, buzzwords. I hold very little hope for these sessions myself, but I am optimistic enough about getting good information at some point that I keep trying. This day, was the day. She began her speech with some honest points that really caught my attention. She said token positivity has got to go, and that we need to have serious conversations about the difference between real burnout and people that are simply not cut out for the job. I was sucked in, holding my breath waiting for each new nugget to fall. So enraptured, that the gut punch of hearing, "Listen, if you want to work yourself to death, no one is going to stop you," left me reeling. I may have even said this to a couple of people. IYKYK. This woman had lost more than one colleague to suicide in which burnout played a role. She had solid feedback to offer, and I hope that I can convince our organization to invite her to speak to us. I left the conference with a huge wish list, actually. Some of it, I don't dare speak about because I have learned how easy it is to volunteer in my company. Before I knew it, the conference was over. Sunday, NBF arrived and breathed fresh purpose into my trip. I have to giggle because I happened to send him a message that I could not wait to see what he had planned for our time in Dublin. His response was, "I'm planning that?" Um, yes, that was what we decided once upon a time. See James, I mean Tony, below. In my thinking, we were in a beer capital of the world, so I wanted him to have his say. And honestly he planned just enough. I worked in the mornings and then again in the evenings when he had school. The rest of the time we explored...and drank. The airbnb that I chose was little more than a room with a loft large enough for a bed. It was cozy for a few day stay, but I cannot imagine living like this. Not to mention that we had to climb a ladder to get to bed! The apartment was on one of the loudest and busiest streets I could have possibly found, but there was a quiet bar across the street that become a nightly stop with the bartender making sure to play Aha's Take Me On at least twice each visit. Each night he would shout, "NORWAY!" to announce our arrival. It reminded me of the old show Cheers when Norm walked in. Dublin is a really beautiful city, but the bar district is packed...all. the. time. We walked by the river, took a hop on hop off bus, and explored plenty of pubs. We toured the Jameson distillery which was much better from a historical perspective for us as neither of us are huge whiskey fans. All in all, NBF's plan was the perfect pace for me. He did have one surprise up his sleeve that really caught me off guard. You have to remember this man is the king of cheap souvenirs, so far we have brought home COVID, a beer can top, and chopsticks. So you can imagine my delight when we went to a silver shop to make rings together. OH, it was such an experience! We both started with a small stick of silver and came home with rings. My only regret is that I didn't ask him to make his for him. I loved watching him work and concentrate. Again, we were so busy adventuring that I didn't take near enough photos, but the dump is down below. We have offically added Ireland as a return trip, but we are thinking of focusing on a romantic comedy we watched, Game of Thrones, next time. Side track to explain and taking the short route, our question of the day asked what our favorite romantic comedy was. NBF thought we had watched a few, I remarked something along the lines of, "like what LOTR?? or the Hobbit? We've seen that a lot." So now, any old time, action/fantasy film is referred to as a romantic comedy. Anyway, there are so many GOT sites and tours to choose from that it might take teacher type planning for that to go smoothly! Again, it was just the right adventure for us, and we can't wait for the next. Meanwhile, we left Dublin on Wednesday night, arriving home just in time for me to unpack and get a good night's sleep so I could go to Oslo Thursday morning. I can remember a time when wrapping my mind around that would have been impossible. After all, I can travel to nearly every European capital in the time it takes my boys to drive to visit family. I think you are officially caught up on my September through October shenanigans...but I am still sitting on four drafts. |
Nellie HillJust a woman leaping outside her comfort zone and telling the tale. Archives
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