Ahhhhh, what WILL this day bring? Ever wake up wondering that? I do quite regularly. It doesn't seem to change the day necessarily or the fact that I hate mornings---well, let me rephrase that. I hate having to wake up to the alarm clock. I don't mind mornings for the most part, if I can wake up on my own terms. It's that whole having to open your eyes at the moment you weren't ready to that poses the problem. Yet, every morning as my eyes slowly creep to focus on the day, I ask, "What do you hold for me today, God?" This is usually followed by, "Please help me be the teacher and mom you want me to be, not the one that causes therapy to any of the kiddos." And then, the day kicks into third gear and off we go into our worlds. Not a very spiritual beginning, yet it's the beginning. Having a coffee pot now helps.
Today as my eyes decided to pop open at 4:45, I realized this is not the day to wake up extra early because it's our first night of conferences. For those of you non-teachers, it simply means you get to go to school (or HAVE to depending on your view) to see how your cherub is doing in his/her daily life at school. For teachers it means a 12 hour day at school spent not only teaching most of it, but then in conference mode the rest of it. Conferences usually go well for me, albeit I miss my girls by the end of the three nights of late work. But there still remains the unknown of conferences. There seems to be that one parent or two who happens to catch the team off guard. Last year at this time I had H1N1 so I missed the first set of conferences and missed a few wild interchanges with parents. The interchanges didn't occur between teacher and parent, but between parent and child. Yelling, name calling, tears...sums it up. There were a few psycho parents as I call them. The ones who won't stop talking or won't stop implying that there is a problem with you as the teacher and not with their child who has a 40% in your class. But for the most part, the parents are quite supportive and appear to be somewhat interested. Somewhat. I get that now that I'm a parent and sit on the other side of the conference table. I'm somewhat interested in my child's progress in school mainly because I talk to her regularly about her progress so what happens at conferences doesn't surprise me or tell me much new. But again, every family is different as are most kids, although middle school kids tend to have a pretty similar mold they fit into at this point in life.
Little and Big Princesses are both doing well. Big Princess is dealing with life as an 8 year old girl. Drama. Continuously. And some of it breaks my heart into pieces. Like when her "best friend" got mad at her (and she can't really figure out why and she is sincere in this thinking) and made a poster that said on the front, "Mom" and on the back, "I don't think J is the friend for me." So she made this to give to her mom. She wouldn't talk to Big Princess for most of the day, but ended up making this during after school care time. So, Big P was devastated. Until one of their mutual friends stepped in and fixed it. I asked, "How did she fix it?" She replied, "She said something that made K laugh and when K laughs, it makes me laugh and then she talked to me again." Kids. Although, it would be nice to be able to work through some adult drama simply by being able to make the other person laugh and then boom, it's over. Again, I encouraged Big P to make more friends, different friends, boy and girl friends, kids who don't appear to have many to play with friends and so on. Not sure what she'll do with it, but frankly, I'm sick of the popular little girls who at age 8 are running the classroom already.
Little Princess is starting to put sentences together and most of the time I can understand her. She discovered candy. Well, she knew what candy was, but has discovered that there are MANY kinds that she can fall in love with. She loves music and it's so darn cute to hear her humming along with songs all the time. I'm wondering if this will pan out into a singer....I so want a singer in my family to sing along with their good old mom...but Big P doesn't like to sing along. She's a good singer though and her music teacher gushed over her, but I think mostly they gush because she behaves. Little P has an amazing sense of humor which causes me to belly laugh daily, but also causes a slight fear and trepidation to enter my mind as I see her in middle school.......speaking of which, better get on it and start my 13 hour day.....
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Trying to decide....
Do I continue blogging or do I invest in a personal journal that I can write in for my girls to have when they're older and can understand their psychotic mother a little better after the therapy sessions?
PRO's of blogging.....
PRO's of blogging.....
- I get to write again which I had earlier in life chosen as my future career.
- I pretend I'm being heard by many or at least by those who choose to read. It's a rarity when you're single and when your children are small. There isn't much adult conversation to be had at home really.
- It can be cathartic.
CON's of blogging.....
- Potential to be misinterpreted, but hey, isn't that pretty much how life goes anyway?
- It's all out there because I'm one who is either all in or all out and I don't like to feel censored, but also don't like to feel like maybe I've said too much. Hmmmm.
- This blog won't really matter in the long run---it's not anything that will get published or will benefit anyone's life in the future, so maybe I should focus on doing something for the girls? Although the few minutes it takes for me to type up my posts would be minimal in actually producing anything too valuable, except my words, which in the long run and at the end, may actually be valuable to someone.
Then I've thought that my blog might need focus.
- Is it about my family or me?
- Is it spiritually based with all the questions I deal with there or is it based on being single and working or being a mom to adoptive children or what hat is it that I'm going to wear on here? Or can I not choose simply because my hats are pretty much sewn on my head at this point and not easily removed.
- Is it merely a venting post? (or a place to puke my thoughts out?)
Guess it's not a major life-changing decision by no means, but obviously one that I'll mull around until I figure it out. Stay tuned or give input if you so desire.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Ever have one of those dreams?
Yep. It's 4 AM and I'm wide awake. I had "one of those dreams" that simply wake you from the slumber that previous to that moment appeared restful and well-needed, but obviously was easy enough to end simply with mind visuals and events that woke me right up. I have been one to have many dreams, but few are recurring. This one was just plain shocking. In it, a friend who has been in my life for quite some time ended the friendship. It was odd. It was hurtful. It involved no "fight" per se, simply a conversation I started in the dream with, "You don't really like me, do you?" And then boom, it all came flooding out and the friendship was over. One I've had for years. One I treasured.
Of course I couldn't just go back to sleep. So, I dragged my butt out of bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake the sleeping 2 year old who had my hair in her hands at the moment (constant touch is what that kid requires!) and decided there may be some meaning to the dream. The dream analysis didn't surprise me---when one dreams of a fight where things end, it usually means you're fearing failure of some sort. Hmmmm. Interesting. Then of course, it asks you to think back over your last 24 hours to see if there were some things that could have led to the dream. Bingo.
Anyone who has been to a level of depth with me in conversation and relationship knows one of my biggest fears is failure. I don't know why, I just know it's driven me for years. Things I've "failed" at have haunted me to this day. I'm not talking epic failures either; these are minor things sometimes. But the main reason I believed I had this dream is based on my current state of mind in life which has equaled failure to me, probably because it's not perfect, which is also another issue that should probably have me in therapy somewhere.
One thing bugging my mind is my upcoming observation from the principal. Stupid, I know. It's been 20 years, many of those filled with observations, and they have typically been close to perfect observations. But of course, the district changed the rating scale and added things to cover and it's really quite stupid to even fret over it. It's not like I'm going to get a raise or a bonus or anything out of it whether it's a good or bad eval. Yet, I want it to be awesome and I don't want to fail. Maybe that was it.
But if that was the only area, then it'd be quite a ridiculous dream interpretation to me. So, I searched a little deeper and all it took was a quick glance around the kitchen to feel like a failure. What a mess! Now, mess is relative I know because I've watched the Hoarders show on A&E....that is NOT me, but there is this little tornado that makes her appearance every night and leaves this trail of debris in her wake. This week, I've literally not cleaned a thing except my children. This made me think back to my last thoughts before turning out the light last night and heading to bed and it was, "What a failure at being a homeowner I've become." This stems much deeper than simply a cluttered kitchen with random stuffed animals lying around, doll clothes on the counter, dirty dishes waiting to be loaded by the 8 yr old who has done an amazing job of avoiding the emptying of the dishwasher this week. It probably comes from the leaves stacked deeply in my yard, needing attention and the back yard filled with dog poop needing attention and the basement clean clothes pile needing to be put away, and my bedroom, newly rearranged needing not only a good cleaning, but I believe I'm going to yank out the smelly carpet that inhabits the room and live with whatever lies under it and the furnace filter needing to be changed (not your typical $5 filter---we're talking $50 by the time all of it is replaced so I've not replaced it for the winter yet), and of course, I'm sure there is more, but those were the thoughts greeting me as I pulled into the place I call home after leaving the place I call work with arms loaded of things to complete for the night. No wonder I'm failing at home-keeping.
Then there is me. Inward struggles to make decisions that ultimately affect my children and I both=emotionally failing. Wanting to lose weight and not wanting to work at it very hard, obviously----huge failure in that area and one that gnaws away at me daily=physically failing. Wanting so badly to reconnect with God at a level I once loved, yet again, not doing it=spiritually failing. What's left? Yeah, nothing. And boom, the dream makes sense.
I know failing is a strong word. I know I'm technically not the failure I have portrayed in this writing. Or am I? It's really hard to know sometimes and because it's my biggest fear, it's an internal struggle more than anything. Fixing it should be easy, I know. Or at least easily said and solved---not easily carried out. Every single moment of my day is planned for me between my job and my children. I know that's my choice and that's where life has me right now. I also know there is not a whole lot I can do to change any of it because life is one phase/stage after another and the one I'm in has me pretty much tied to a tight schedule based solely on everyone else in my world, but me. Yes, I also know that isn't healthy and soon I will snap, but until then, getting it out of my head and onto "paper" has helped. It's 4:45 AM...is there really any reason to go back to bed? May as well start typing out that evaluation sheet for the principal.
Of course I couldn't just go back to sleep. So, I dragged my butt out of bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake the sleeping 2 year old who had my hair in her hands at the moment (constant touch is what that kid requires!) and decided there may be some meaning to the dream. The dream analysis didn't surprise me---when one dreams of a fight where things end, it usually means you're fearing failure of some sort. Hmmmm. Interesting. Then of course, it asks you to think back over your last 24 hours to see if there were some things that could have led to the dream. Bingo.
Anyone who has been to a level of depth with me in conversation and relationship knows one of my biggest fears is failure. I don't know why, I just know it's driven me for years. Things I've "failed" at have haunted me to this day. I'm not talking epic failures either; these are minor things sometimes. But the main reason I believed I had this dream is based on my current state of mind in life which has equaled failure to me, probably because it's not perfect, which is also another issue that should probably have me in therapy somewhere.
One thing bugging my mind is my upcoming observation from the principal. Stupid, I know. It's been 20 years, many of those filled with observations, and they have typically been close to perfect observations. But of course, the district changed the rating scale and added things to cover and it's really quite stupid to even fret over it. It's not like I'm going to get a raise or a bonus or anything out of it whether it's a good or bad eval. Yet, I want it to be awesome and I don't want to fail. Maybe that was it.
But if that was the only area, then it'd be quite a ridiculous dream interpretation to me. So, I searched a little deeper and all it took was a quick glance around the kitchen to feel like a failure. What a mess! Now, mess is relative I know because I've watched the Hoarders show on A&E....that is NOT me, but there is this little tornado that makes her appearance every night and leaves this trail of debris in her wake. This week, I've literally not cleaned a thing except my children. This made me think back to my last thoughts before turning out the light last night and heading to bed and it was, "What a failure at being a homeowner I've become." This stems much deeper than simply a cluttered kitchen with random stuffed animals lying around, doll clothes on the counter, dirty dishes waiting to be loaded by the 8 yr old who has done an amazing job of avoiding the emptying of the dishwasher this week. It probably comes from the leaves stacked deeply in my yard, needing attention and the back yard filled with dog poop needing attention and the basement clean clothes pile needing to be put away, and my bedroom, newly rearranged needing not only a good cleaning, but I believe I'm going to yank out the smelly carpet that inhabits the room and live with whatever lies under it and the furnace filter needing to be changed (not your typical $5 filter---we're talking $50 by the time all of it is replaced so I've not replaced it for the winter yet), and of course, I'm sure there is more, but those were the thoughts greeting me as I pulled into the place I call home after leaving the place I call work with arms loaded of things to complete for the night. No wonder I'm failing at home-keeping.
Then there is me. Inward struggles to make decisions that ultimately affect my children and I both=emotionally failing. Wanting to lose weight and not wanting to work at it very hard, obviously----huge failure in that area and one that gnaws away at me daily=physically failing. Wanting so badly to reconnect with God at a level I once loved, yet again, not doing it=spiritually failing. What's left? Yeah, nothing. And boom, the dream makes sense.
I know failing is a strong word. I know I'm technically not the failure I have portrayed in this writing. Or am I? It's really hard to know sometimes and because it's my biggest fear, it's an internal struggle more than anything. Fixing it should be easy, I know. Or at least easily said and solved---not easily carried out. Every single moment of my day is planned for me between my job and my children. I know that's my choice and that's where life has me right now. I also know there is not a whole lot I can do to change any of it because life is one phase/stage after another and the one I'm in has me pretty much tied to a tight schedule based solely on everyone else in my world, but me. Yes, I also know that isn't healthy and soon I will snap, but until then, getting it out of my head and onto "paper" has helped. It's 4:45 AM...is there really any reason to go back to bed? May as well start typing out that evaluation sheet for the principal.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Wow...that was rather whiny.....
But I'm less whiny today. Just felt compelled to announce that for whatever reason. Announce. Funny. To my vast array of readers......baaahaahahahaha.....
Monday, October 11, 2010
Feeling a little Corinthianish....
As I tossed and turned in bed, I realized I needed to write and empty my brain and heart, because they are both full to the brim. Upon opening the internet, I see a friend of mine posted this as her facebook status: ...is feeling a little like the author of second Corinthians: afflicted but not crushed, perplexed but not to the point of despair, struck down but not destroyed. It turns out that perspective is indeed a gift of age, so today I'm thankful I have a few miles on me and know that "trouble don't last always." Instantly, I realized, she posted ME.
I have had quite the week since last post. This one might become whiny so consider yourself warned. Not sure it's one episode or even any in particular that have brought me to the point I'm at currently---afflicted, but not crushed---to sum up, my stamina is wearing thin with my children and suddenly I feel like their grandma instead of their mom. My financial situation continues to afflict me; this is my 20th year of doing my job and I've finally reached making $50,000 a year. I remember thinking, "Wow, when I hit 50,000, I'll be rich!" This was when I started at $19,000. And this was before I knew my path would be one of single mom to two. Don't read into what I'm not saying---I love my job and I knew that I would never become wealthy from it. I know there are many who would love to receive my salary. Yes, this I know; my concern is I feel like I truly don't splurge, I truly do make good choices in my finances, and yet, I'm seriously freaking out right now. The nail in the proverbial coffin came when my hope to refinance my house at a point lower than I'm at fell through. My house which was worth $150,000 in 2008 is suddenly only worth $136,000. I needed it to appraise at the same level in order to continue the re-fi and now I can't. Not only that, but I also have to pay the company for the $425 appraisal, which by the way, consisted of taking a picture of the outside of the house and then spending a few minutes on the computer researching other area homes--seriously? I am willing to pay someone to do their job, but seriously? It's about as bad as paying the exterminator $100 for spraying this powder into the bee hive in my backyard and it literally took the guy 1 min. I know because I was standing beside him the whole time. And then when he felt a tinge of guilt, he sprayed a little more to drag it out to at least two minutes. Anyway, I digress. The point is, I have a budget that is tight--to the dollar every single month and I try to function on cash as much as possible, which means, I don't have the 425 sitting in my account or on my counter or in my cookie jar (that is only $16.17 right now). This inability to refinance then leads me to another situation where I had asked a landscaper to draw up some plans for this water issue which I feel will only be fixed with landscaping between my neighbor's and my house. I meet with her Wed night to hear her proposal and to break the news that, oh yeah, I've got no money now. Lest you roll your eyes and sigh and say, "It's tough all over," I will remind you that I'm aware of this. I have students in shelters. I have friends and family in bankruptcy. I've had friends lose their homes. I KNOW. But I still want to whine because for five years I was debt free. Now I've got debt from medical bills, car tires, grad classes for recertification, flood issues for the basement and the list I'm sure is similar to every other person I know. My question is, will it ever change? Do I move to a smaller house? Do I get rid of internet and basic cable I have which is literally the only splurge I have besides eating out with my kids sometimes (and McDonald's is typically the choice of dining pleasures)? I'm officially a Dave Ramsey failure who has no emergency fund, and no way of getting one at this rate. Yes, Dave would say, sell the house, get rid of the internet and cable, and get a second job. A second job? I see my children for three hours a day if I'm lucky on weekdays. A second job? Do you see why my brain won't let me sleep? Perplexed, but not to the point of despair. Yet.
Struck down...but not destroyed. I have been through so many things that are not even close to comparison to what my heart is feeling now. I know there is no reason for my complaining and no reason for me to feel like my entire world is crumbling. Well, except for hormones, which can crumble Rome in a day, literally. And yet, I'm there. I'm not patient nor kind right now. I hear it in the way my children interact with each other and I cringe. I remind, "Kind words, kids. Kind words" and yet I hear the scream that left my mouth when the 2 yr old pulled her milk off the counter and spilled it everywhere after I had just finished cleaning the kitchen. I'm not showing much joy--I'm pissed, people. And ya know what? I believe that's okay sometimes. Hopefully, it won't last much longer.
The best part of her post? The part about knowing because of the wisdom of life that this too, shall pass and I will be the better for having gone through it. And yes, I just threw up a little in my mouth as I typed that.
I have had quite the week since last post. This one might become whiny so consider yourself warned. Not sure it's one episode or even any in particular that have brought me to the point I'm at currently---afflicted, but not crushed---to sum up, my stamina is wearing thin with my children and suddenly I feel like their grandma instead of their mom. My financial situation continues to afflict me; this is my 20th year of doing my job and I've finally reached making $50,000 a year. I remember thinking, "Wow, when I hit 50,000, I'll be rich!" This was when I started at $19,000. And this was before I knew my path would be one of single mom to two. Don't read into what I'm not saying---I love my job and I knew that I would never become wealthy from it. I know there are many who would love to receive my salary. Yes, this I know; my concern is I feel like I truly don't splurge, I truly do make good choices in my finances, and yet, I'm seriously freaking out right now. The nail in the proverbial coffin came when my hope to refinance my house at a point lower than I'm at fell through. My house which was worth $150,000 in 2008 is suddenly only worth $136,000. I needed it to appraise at the same level in order to continue the re-fi and now I can't. Not only that, but I also have to pay the company for the $425 appraisal, which by the way, consisted of taking a picture of the outside of the house and then spending a few minutes on the computer researching other area homes--seriously? I am willing to pay someone to do their job, but seriously? It's about as bad as paying the exterminator $100 for spraying this powder into the bee hive in my backyard and it literally took the guy 1 min. I know because I was standing beside him the whole time. And then when he felt a tinge of guilt, he sprayed a little more to drag it out to at least two minutes. Anyway, I digress. The point is, I have a budget that is tight--to the dollar every single month and I try to function on cash as much as possible, which means, I don't have the 425 sitting in my account or on my counter or in my cookie jar (that is only $16.17 right now). This inability to refinance then leads me to another situation where I had asked a landscaper to draw up some plans for this water issue which I feel will only be fixed with landscaping between my neighbor's and my house. I meet with her Wed night to hear her proposal and to break the news that, oh yeah, I've got no money now. Lest you roll your eyes and sigh and say, "It's tough all over," I will remind you that I'm aware of this. I have students in shelters. I have friends and family in bankruptcy. I've had friends lose their homes. I KNOW. But I still want to whine because for five years I was debt free. Now I've got debt from medical bills, car tires, grad classes for recertification, flood issues for the basement and the list I'm sure is similar to every other person I know. My question is, will it ever change? Do I move to a smaller house? Do I get rid of internet and basic cable I have which is literally the only splurge I have besides eating out with my kids sometimes (and McDonald's is typically the choice of dining pleasures)? I'm officially a Dave Ramsey failure who has no emergency fund, and no way of getting one at this rate. Yes, Dave would say, sell the house, get rid of the internet and cable, and get a second job. A second job? I see my children for three hours a day if I'm lucky on weekdays. A second job? Do you see why my brain won't let me sleep? Perplexed, but not to the point of despair. Yet.
Struck down...but not destroyed. I have been through so many things that are not even close to comparison to what my heart is feeling now. I know there is no reason for my complaining and no reason for me to feel like my entire world is crumbling. Well, except for hormones, which can crumble Rome in a day, literally. And yet, I'm there. I'm not patient nor kind right now. I hear it in the way my children interact with each other and I cringe. I remind, "Kind words, kids. Kind words" and yet I hear the scream that left my mouth when the 2 yr old pulled her milk off the counter and spilled it everywhere after I had just finished cleaning the kitchen. I'm not showing much joy--I'm pissed, people. And ya know what? I believe that's okay sometimes. Hopefully, it won't last much longer.
The best part of her post? The part about knowing because of the wisdom of life that this too, shall pass and I will be the better for having gone through it. And yes, I just threw up a little in my mouth as I typed that.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Flashbacks.
“Live out this God-created identity the way our Father lives toward us, generously and graciously, even when we’re at our worst.” Luke 6:35, The Message
Today, this verse was not lived out very well in my world. Ah heck, this whole WEEK to be exact. The only thing really applicable to me is the "at our worst" part. I'm having flashbacks to when my Big Princess was four. Her year of life between four and five was one of our hardest together, and yes, I'll add so far for those who have lived through the teen years with their children. The reason it was so difficult is because she seriously was frustrated with life constantly. She was too big to be little and too little to be big. She could read, but not enough for her. She was able to do so many things well, like draw and color and be creative, but those things would frustrate her too because I believe in her mind she was seeing things differently than they turned out (mostly on the drawing side) and then the meltdowns would occur. I noticed about two weeks ago this kind of meltdown inducing behavior surfacing again and when I say I shuttered at the thought, I mean I shuttered at the thought!
Add to this mix the Little Princess, who albeit is cute with her new found ability to talk, is quite annoying to her sister right now. And by quite, I mean constantly annoying. So, when Big Princess is getting disciplined by me through words, there's this little parrot behind or beside me repeating the words as best she can with the same intonation and inflection that Big Princess is hearing from me. The first time Little Princess did this, Big Princess and I laughed because it was rather humorous. That's all changed now. Big Princess does not find anything humorous from Little Princess. I know a huge part of BP's issue is the fact that her little sister is naughty, talkative, whiny and full of reasons to be put in time out. Trust me when I say LP is quite annoying to me right now and is highly challenging this week. Unfortunately, she is also high maintenance too, which means BP is not getting any attention from me except for the negative moments like "Stop yelling at your sister" or "You can't hit your sister like that" and so on. Rarely do we get moments to just sit and talk, or better yet, sit in the same chair and cuddle up and talk. In my heart of hearts I know this issue is one I must solve immediately because it truly is affecting all of our lives.
Solving the problem is where the issue becomes a little more tricky. These are the options I see as possibilities:
Today, this verse was not lived out very well in my world. Ah heck, this whole WEEK to be exact. The only thing really applicable to me is the "at our worst" part. I'm having flashbacks to when my Big Princess was four. Her year of life between four and five was one of our hardest together, and yes, I'll add so far for those who have lived through the teen years with their children. The reason it was so difficult is because she seriously was frustrated with life constantly. She was too big to be little and too little to be big. She could read, but not enough for her. She was able to do so many things well, like draw and color and be creative, but those things would frustrate her too because I believe in her mind she was seeing things differently than they turned out (mostly on the drawing side) and then the meltdowns would occur. I noticed about two weeks ago this kind of meltdown inducing behavior surfacing again and when I say I shuttered at the thought, I mean I shuttered at the thought!
Add to this mix the Little Princess, who albeit is cute with her new found ability to talk, is quite annoying to her sister right now. And by quite, I mean constantly annoying. So, when Big Princess is getting disciplined by me through words, there's this little parrot behind or beside me repeating the words as best she can with the same intonation and inflection that Big Princess is hearing from me. The first time Little Princess did this, Big Princess and I laughed because it was rather humorous. That's all changed now. Big Princess does not find anything humorous from Little Princess. I know a huge part of BP's issue is the fact that her little sister is naughty, talkative, whiny and full of reasons to be put in time out. Trust me when I say LP is quite annoying to me right now and is highly challenging this week. Unfortunately, she is also high maintenance too, which means BP is not getting any attention from me except for the negative moments like "Stop yelling at your sister" or "You can't hit your sister like that" and so on. Rarely do we get moments to just sit and talk, or better yet, sit in the same chair and cuddle up and talk. In my heart of hearts I know this issue is one I must solve immediately because it truly is affecting all of our lives.
Solving the problem is where the issue becomes a little more tricky. These are the options I see as possibilities:
- Leave work at 4, get Big Princess and spend an hour with just her doing something she likes to do. (The problem with this is leaving work---it's never done and it's never done at home so if I'm unable to complete the stuff I need for the next day, it's hard to leave.)
- Hire a sitter for Little Princess weekly and spend a chunk of time with Big Princess alone somewhere. (The problem here is one, finding a sitter, and two paying a sitter. My budget is beyond limited right now. Okay, so always--my budget is always limited.)
- Leave Little Princess with a friend and spend time with Big Princess. (I feel like I'm taking advantage of friends when I do this, plus that would mean I would need to fit it into my friend's schedule which really can be hard to synchronize. Little P also doesn't do very well when both Big P and I leave her alone somewhere.)
Anyway, it needs to happen and it needs to be a priority now because we're heading down a pathway I was expecting to head down much sooner than this, so when it didn't happen, I was surprised and excited by the outcome and didn't strategize much about game plans. I'm thinking the one with an hour after school together may have to be the one we go with. This parenting gig is by far the hardest thing anyone can choose to do.
Monday, September 27, 2010
She does listen!
In typical fashion, I picked up the girls from their respective places after work. I usually ask at daycare if Little Princess was good and if she pooped. Those are pretty much the main things I need to know about her. Big Princess on the other hand is usually tricky.
My main method with her has been to not ask general things like, "How was your day?" It just leads to the one word answers that drive me crazy. So, this year my strategy is to start the conversation with, "How are you doing?" The reason for this is so I can gage how much more she will answer for me. Today, here's our conversation.
Me: Hey sweetie. Looks like you had a good day with your new shoes.
Big P: Yeah, it was good.
Me: Did everyone like your shoes?
Big P: Nah, nobody really cared.
Me: What was the best part of your day?
Big P: Probably recess and playing with Kenzie.
Me: Sounds like you like Kenzie a lot. Are you playing with anyone else?
Big P: Well, Megan doesn't like me anymore so she ignores me and I decided to just ignore her, too. It works for us.
Me: As long as you don't intentionally hurt her feelings, I guess that's a good decision. Anyone else that you would say are friends and people you don't ignore?
Big P: There's Ariel. She's fun and she's nice but wow is she crazy sometimes. And then there's Grace. Mom, these are the people who look into my heart instead of looking at how small I am.
Me: People don't like you because you're small?
Big P: I don't know if they don't like me, but some won't play with me because they think I'm too small to really be in third grade so they skip over me. But there are those three who look into my heart and like me so I'm good.
And that, my friends, made Mama's heart soar because we've been working so hard on the importance of having people who see the "inside you" and not just the "outside you." Plus, we've been trying to make sure we focus on other people's "inside you" instead of judging their outsides, no matter how mad they make Mama when she's driving. Yeah, that's my confession. I'm a victim of road rage quite often and my poor kids witness my "mouth slips." But hey, I'm not talking about me tonight....just my Big Princess who sees deeper than many adults.
My main method with her has been to not ask general things like, "How was your day?" It just leads to the one word answers that drive me crazy. So, this year my strategy is to start the conversation with, "How are you doing?" The reason for this is so I can gage how much more she will answer for me. Today, here's our conversation.
Me: Hey sweetie. Looks like you had a good day with your new shoes.
Big P: Yeah, it was good.
Me: Did everyone like your shoes?
Big P: Nah, nobody really cared.
Me: What was the best part of your day?
Big P: Probably recess and playing with Kenzie.
Me: Sounds like you like Kenzie a lot. Are you playing with anyone else?
Big P: Well, Megan doesn't like me anymore so she ignores me and I decided to just ignore her, too. It works for us.
Me: As long as you don't intentionally hurt her feelings, I guess that's a good decision. Anyone else that you would say are friends and people you don't ignore?
Big P: There's Ariel. She's fun and she's nice but wow is she crazy sometimes. And then there's Grace. Mom, these are the people who look into my heart instead of looking at how small I am.
Me: People don't like you because you're small?
Big P: I don't know if they don't like me, but some won't play with me because they think I'm too small to really be in third grade so they skip over me. But there are those three who look into my heart and like me so I'm good.
And that, my friends, made Mama's heart soar because we've been working so hard on the importance of having people who see the "inside you" and not just the "outside you." Plus, we've been trying to make sure we focus on other people's "inside you" instead of judging their outsides, no matter how mad they make Mama when she's driving. Yeah, that's my confession. I'm a victim of road rage quite often and my poor kids witness my "mouth slips." But hey, I'm not talking about me tonight....just my Big Princess who sees deeper than many adults.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
No Way!
It's been quite a week around this place....obviously shown by my lack of writing on the blog. I tend to sneak away every once in a while but this past week has been chaos for some reason. Ever have that happen when you know it's chaos yet really don't have any reason for it to be? Weird.
Anyway, update on the girls. Little Princess has started this lovely habit of saying, "No way!" to every thing she is asked. "Are you hungry?"
"No way!"
"Please put your clothes back on."
"No way!"
"Do you love, Mama?"
"No way!"
And so it goes. It's actually quite annoying no matter how cute she may be. In addition, she's added the "Oh no" to her repertoire of words. The forming of language is an amazing thing to witness, even the annoying little things that accompany it. I love to hear her be the little parrot she's become. However, it's also caught mama in some rather interesting moments, mostly occurring while on the road as I encounter an idiot driver. For example, a woman didn't use her blinker, yet decided to turn, which caused me to almost rear end her to which I said, "Frick, Lady!" Within a moment after those words left my mouth, I heard in the back seat, "Frick, lady" in a smaller voice but with as much fervor as I used. And those words continued to be heard repeatedly for the next 10 mins when I finally put the kabosh on that. Poor girl has an ear infection and sinus infection. She's been on antibiotics for a week now and seems to be all cleared up, but I wasn't aware a child could still get ear infections with tubes in. The doc said her tubes were clogged, thus the infection. I suppose I should investigate if I need to do more about the whole tube being clogged comment, but I haven't.
The Big Princess continues to be the lover of school and books that she usually is. Tonight she went with me to acute care to get checked for the cough which I predicted was the typical bronchitis I get bi-annually. It was. But, she was thrilled to get time with me alone, even though there was a distinct possibility I would hack up a lung on her. It made me realize I need to spend more time alone with her. She is such a treasure and an awesome kid to be with that I'm truly missing out on an amazing gift by not specifically doing this. After they weighed me at the doctors (my favorite part of course) she said she weighed 61 lbs. I said I didn't think so as maybe she weighed 57. She wanted to bet so we did and after her bath she jumped on the scale and proclaimed she weighed 354. I giggled. She looked at me funny and I said, "Go try that again and really look at the numbers." A few minutes later she returned to say, "Mom, I weigh 56.4." To this, I proclaimed, "I win the bet. I said 57." The Big Princess also got a day off this week. She has been stuffy and for two days in a row she woke up feeling punk and of course, stuffy so finally I just said she could stay home (or more accurately, stay with Paula). She really wasn't sick, but it appeared a mental health day was in order so she got it. After I picked her up, she said, "Mom, I missed school. I'm going back tomorrow." She has also begun piano lessons and is doing well, although she is a Nervous Nelly about it. It's fun to hear her practicing. However, tonight she informed me that a real piano is easier to play than the keyboard we have. I just smirked at her with her sneaking ability to try to put a thought in her mama's head about something she "needs."
So, there's the update on the small female figures in my household. And currently, ever female under the age of 40 is asleep and the house is silent. What a rare treat and one that someday, I'll abhor.
Anyway, update on the girls. Little Princess has started this lovely habit of saying, "No way!" to every thing she is asked. "Are you hungry?"
"No way!"
"Please put your clothes back on."
"No way!"
"Do you love, Mama?"
"No way!"
And so it goes. It's actually quite annoying no matter how cute she may be. In addition, she's added the "Oh no" to her repertoire of words. The forming of language is an amazing thing to witness, even the annoying little things that accompany it. I love to hear her be the little parrot she's become. However, it's also caught mama in some rather interesting moments, mostly occurring while on the road as I encounter an idiot driver. For example, a woman didn't use her blinker, yet decided to turn, which caused me to almost rear end her to which I said, "Frick, Lady!" Within a moment after those words left my mouth, I heard in the back seat, "Frick, lady" in a smaller voice but with as much fervor as I used. And those words continued to be heard repeatedly for the next 10 mins when I finally put the kabosh on that. Poor girl has an ear infection and sinus infection. She's been on antibiotics for a week now and seems to be all cleared up, but I wasn't aware a child could still get ear infections with tubes in. The doc said her tubes were clogged, thus the infection. I suppose I should investigate if I need to do more about the whole tube being clogged comment, but I haven't.
The Big Princess continues to be the lover of school and books that she usually is. Tonight she went with me to acute care to get checked for the cough which I predicted was the typical bronchitis I get bi-annually. It was. But, she was thrilled to get time with me alone, even though there was a distinct possibility I would hack up a lung on her. It made me realize I need to spend more time alone with her. She is such a treasure and an awesome kid to be with that I'm truly missing out on an amazing gift by not specifically doing this. After they weighed me at the doctors (my favorite part of course) she said she weighed 61 lbs. I said I didn't think so as maybe she weighed 57. She wanted to bet so we did and after her bath she jumped on the scale and proclaimed she weighed 354. I giggled. She looked at me funny and I said, "Go try that again and really look at the numbers." A few minutes later she returned to say, "Mom, I weigh 56.4." To this, I proclaimed, "I win the bet. I said 57." The Big Princess also got a day off this week. She has been stuffy and for two days in a row she woke up feeling punk and of course, stuffy so finally I just said she could stay home (or more accurately, stay with Paula). She really wasn't sick, but it appeared a mental health day was in order so she got it. After I picked her up, she said, "Mom, I missed school. I'm going back tomorrow." She has also begun piano lessons and is doing well, although she is a Nervous Nelly about it. It's fun to hear her practicing. However, tonight she informed me that a real piano is easier to play than the keyboard we have. I just smirked at her with her sneaking ability to try to put a thought in her mama's head about something she "needs."
So, there's the update on the small female figures in my household. And currently, ever female under the age of 40 is asleep and the house is silent. What a rare treat and one that someday, I'll abhor.
Friday, September 17, 2010
The T word
I read a quote I found quite awesome by one of my favorite authors, Max Lucado.
"God loves those who need him most, who rely on him, depend on him, and trust in him in everything. Little he cares whether you’ve been as pure as John or as sinful as Mary Magdalene. All that matters is your trust in him."
I love this quote for various reasons, one being that I can totally relate to being the Mary Magdalene part (well, maybe not EXACTLY like her, yet you get the drift) and I love to once again hear that God loves me regardless of my sin, in spite of my sin and with my sinful daily life. Yet, the intriguing part to me is the part that says "trust him in everything."
Trust has never been my strong suite. After the rape when I was four, I remember trusting no man. Literally. I don't think my family ever noticed or knew what was going on, but I could NOT remember the face of the man who raped me, only his words and the fact that he was my dad's friend. Thus, any man who was my dad's friend made me terrified except for a couple that I knew didn't do it since they were around our house regularly and I knew them. When I would meet new men, I freaked out. I know my anxiety began then and carried into many areas of my life, still affecting me at times today. But the biggest thing that happened was the loss of trust overall. And this issue has been huge with me since that day. Actually, to infinity and beyond if you want to get technical. My singleness is due to lack of trust---no man could convince me that I could trust him enough to give him "me" forever. And so it goes.
But God is different obviously. I can quickly say I trust him. I can give examples of how trusting Him has given me so much peace in my world. And yet, it still is the single hardest thing for me to do in my life with Christ. I wonder if it's because I swore that I would never be out of control again in my life after that brutal night when I was four. Which has proven true; although I may sound like alcohol is my best friend, I've never been drunk and I've never been high nor have I been in situations where I wasn't in some semblance of control. And yet, God asks, no requires, complete trust.
What does that look like? Does it look like a single person waiting for a country for many years to match her with her daughter that she trusts is out there? Does it look like a daughter sitting by her parents' hospital beds trusting God will heal them? Does it look like a new mama holding her daughter who is injured and screaming, trusting everything will be okay? Does it look like the pet owner who is holding her loving dog in her arms as it dies, trusting her heart that is broken will get better in time? Or does it look like someone giving everything away trusting God will return it all and more? Or someone pouring over God's word constantly, trusting to find answers to life's complexities? Maybe it looks like one whose head is bowed daily, fervently, regularly, in reverence and obedience.
Trust. Small word. Huge meaning. Massive wall to scale in my life.
"God loves those who need him most, who rely on him, depend on him, and trust in him in everything. Little he cares whether you’ve been as pure as John or as sinful as Mary Magdalene. All that matters is your trust in him."
I love this quote for various reasons, one being that I can totally relate to being the Mary Magdalene part (well, maybe not EXACTLY like her, yet you get the drift) and I love to once again hear that God loves me regardless of my sin, in spite of my sin and with my sinful daily life. Yet, the intriguing part to me is the part that says "trust him in everything."
Trust has never been my strong suite. After the rape when I was four, I remember trusting no man. Literally. I don't think my family ever noticed or knew what was going on, but I could NOT remember the face of the man who raped me, only his words and the fact that he was my dad's friend. Thus, any man who was my dad's friend made me terrified except for a couple that I knew didn't do it since they were around our house regularly and I knew them. When I would meet new men, I freaked out. I know my anxiety began then and carried into many areas of my life, still affecting me at times today. But the biggest thing that happened was the loss of trust overall. And this issue has been huge with me since that day. Actually, to infinity and beyond if you want to get technical. My singleness is due to lack of trust---no man could convince me that I could trust him enough to give him "me" forever. And so it goes.
But God is different obviously. I can quickly say I trust him. I can give examples of how trusting Him has given me so much peace in my world. And yet, it still is the single hardest thing for me to do in my life with Christ. I wonder if it's because I swore that I would never be out of control again in my life after that brutal night when I was four. Which has proven true; although I may sound like alcohol is my best friend, I've never been drunk and I've never been high nor have I been in situations where I wasn't in some semblance of control. And yet, God asks, no requires, complete trust.
What does that look like? Does it look like a single person waiting for a country for many years to match her with her daughter that she trusts is out there? Does it look like a daughter sitting by her parents' hospital beds trusting God will heal them? Does it look like a new mama holding her daughter who is injured and screaming, trusting everything will be okay? Does it look like the pet owner who is holding her loving dog in her arms as it dies, trusting her heart that is broken will get better in time? Or does it look like someone giving everything away trusting God will return it all and more? Or someone pouring over God's word constantly, trusting to find answers to life's complexities? Maybe it looks like one whose head is bowed daily, fervently, regularly, in reverence and obedience.
Trust. Small word. Huge meaning. Massive wall to scale in my life.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
When will we need to have the talk?
As I sat looking at Big Princess tonight, I realized she is growing up quickly. Too quickly for this mama's liking. Yes, she still likes little kid things and is for the most part, well, a little kid. She plays with stuffed animals, loves to color, chases moths, plays with dolls, loves accessories....actually, I may have described my students, or even, my adult nieces! Anyhow, I haven't ever come close to talking to her about sex. I haven't asked her what she knows about it. I don't even know if she's even heard the word, except maybe the word "sexy" when it was in a song or something.
I know she's only 8 and obviously, when I was 8 I knew way too much about sex. In fact, I knew all of the basics. My past as a child however is much different than hers has been and due to unfortunate circumstances, I was exposed to it at a very early age even though I didn't know what "it" really was. However, I'm not naive enough to think that she hasn't had some references said to her while on recess. In fact, she was the kindergarten girl the boys were cornering to kiss because she was the #1 cutest girl in their class. She didn't get it then and she hated the kissing (for the most part---although I believe there was a part who was very flattered, as we all would be), but the closest we've ever come to a discussion about sex was this:
Big P: Mom, I didn't come out of your tummy, did I?
Me: No. You came out a woman in China's tummy. She is your birth mom.
Big P: Oh.
Me: Is that okay?
Silence.
Big P: Yeah, that's okay. I'm glad because that looks really messy.
I'm not sure how in the world she knew child birth is messy, except for times when her mother had on Grey's Anatomy or Discovery Health and she saw more than she should have, but that was the extent of the conversation. Other than the warning to not let boys kiss her anymore.
Ultimately, I'd like to find a book we can read together that might make it more understandable. I have friends who told their son about sex when he was in kindergarten, mainly because he was hearing things on the playground and reporting back to them, and they wanted to be the ones to tell him. I then panicked thinking I needed to get on the ball. But, so far I haven't formally talked with her. I suppose it's time. I don't know how to go about doing it except by being straightforward with the information. I'm not one to sugar coat too much and as a kid, I hated that my parents really didn't tell me anything directly. Seems like yesterday I was holding the baby with chubby cheeks and amazing eyes and this beautiful giggle in my arms with the furthest thing from my mind a talk about sex. Now I wonder how much do I tell or do I let her take the lead with questions or is 8 still too early or can I hire someone else to do it?
Monday, September 13, 2010
Bleh....
Today I woke up exhausted. With a sore throat. And yet, the day didn't stop for me so off I went and of course, survived. It was a reminder to me today that I'm single. You'd think that the whole single thing would be something of a constant reminder, but when you're in a situation where you've been blessed with singleness (referred to as a gift from God actually, and most days, I agree with that thought) one seriously doesn't dwell on being single. Until days like today.
It's not always the stress like most would think. It's merely the fitting in of all of life. For example, over the weekend I didn't get everything accomplished that I wanted to. One of those things was the mowing of my massive and dearly hated lawn. I got most of it done but was attacked by bees and tried to finish but the four stings I got ended up killing about 20 mins of my time for the screaming and running accompanied by the going into the house to check out the damage. Either way, the lawn that didn't get finished is still not mowed and yet is still growing. I know being married wouldn't necessarily remedy this situation, but in my ideal world of marriage, it would because HE would have been the one out getting stung, and I would have finished the mowing while he watched the kids and moaned and groaned from the pain.
And then we must talk about simple things in life, like running into the store for something small. You know in your heart it will only take a few minutes. Hauling the kids out of the car seats and into the store takes usually 10 by the time you have to pull them away from the Silly Band collection they are begging me to buy. Had I been married, HE could have run to the store, or sat with the kids in the car while I went in and found something that might, just might help my throat feel better. Instead, I skipped the store stop and took my children's allergy medicine to see if that's the problem.
Add to the scenario that I decided to try attending a Bible study on Monday nights since I really need to do something for ME. My poor kids haven't seen me all day, but I take them to church and pay Jadyn $2 (hey, it's a wage, ok!) to watch Mataya and play with her in the nursery at church while I sit in study down the hall. Tonight I had to leave early because Jadyn wet her pants accidently (drinking two full water bottles and not going potty all day obviously caught up with her) and Mataya pooped everywhere, so not sure how well this Monday night thing will work. If I was married, I could leave the kids with HIM or maybe afford a babysitter, although I'd still feel guilty not seeing them all day, and then most of the night.
In addition (so you thought I was done, eh?) my body is getting sick. I can feel it, I've done all I can to ward it off with supplements daily, so I'm hoping it's allergies that are kicking in and not strep. When I feel crappy, I'm not happy. And yes, poetry is also not my strength. However, my poor kiddos are then stuck with a mom who is not only tired from a full day of work, stressed about an unmowed part of her lawn, wondering about how to kill the bees that have invaded her children's play space but NOW she feels icky, so life for them becomes quite sticky. Patience is at a premium. I want to hide in bed, under the covers with ice cream since my throat doesn't hurt when ice cream is in my mouth. Yet, I have to deal with two stinky kids who need baths, one who has boogers herself and appears quite grumpy herself, and of course, those dogs are always needing me, too. If I was married, I could say, "Tag, you're it." And HE would have to take over the feeding, bathing, and putting to bed tasks.
Did I mention that I needed a haircut? Although it sounds random, it is one more thing that a single mom with little kids needs to fit in her day when she isn't with the kids, simply because first, I can't keep an eye on them and would hate for them to be abducted from Great Clips, and second, Mataya is still too little to expect her to sit quietly while mama gets her mane trimmed. Thus, I had to give up work time at school, sneak to Great Clips before going to pick up Mataya and Jadyn in their respective day cares. Normally, not a bad deal, but once again, I believe it's a hassle that if I had Mr. Perfect in my world, it wouldn't be.
Exercise. What's that? When would that take place? A home cooked meal? Seriously? You obviously live in Brady Bunch land where Alice is there for you. I, on the other hand, live more like the Simpsons. Lest you think I'm complaining, I'm not. I seriously am single by choice and 99% of the time love it. I simply need a Manny who will be at my beckon call for the things I described above. In the meantime, until I can afford my own Manny, I will simply continue to wake up knowing that no matter what the day holds, it will for sure be adventure at its best and what doesn't kill me, will typically make me grumpy, but stronger.
It's not always the stress like most would think. It's merely the fitting in of all of life. For example, over the weekend I didn't get everything accomplished that I wanted to. One of those things was the mowing of my massive and dearly hated lawn. I got most of it done but was attacked by bees and tried to finish but the four stings I got ended up killing about 20 mins of my time for the screaming and running accompanied by the going into the house to check out the damage. Either way, the lawn that didn't get finished is still not mowed and yet is still growing. I know being married wouldn't necessarily remedy this situation, but in my ideal world of marriage, it would because HE would have been the one out getting stung, and I would have finished the mowing while he watched the kids and moaned and groaned from the pain.
And then we must talk about simple things in life, like running into the store for something small. You know in your heart it will only take a few minutes. Hauling the kids out of the car seats and into the store takes usually 10 by the time you have to pull them away from the Silly Band collection they are begging me to buy. Had I been married, HE could have run to the store, or sat with the kids in the car while I went in and found something that might, just might help my throat feel better. Instead, I skipped the store stop and took my children's allergy medicine to see if that's the problem.
Add to the scenario that I decided to try attending a Bible study on Monday nights since I really need to do something for ME. My poor kids haven't seen me all day, but I take them to church and pay Jadyn $2 (hey, it's a wage, ok!) to watch Mataya and play with her in the nursery at church while I sit in study down the hall. Tonight I had to leave early because Jadyn wet her pants accidently (drinking two full water bottles and not going potty all day obviously caught up with her) and Mataya pooped everywhere, so not sure how well this Monday night thing will work. If I was married, I could leave the kids with HIM or maybe afford a babysitter, although I'd still feel guilty not seeing them all day, and then most of the night.
In addition (so you thought I was done, eh?) my body is getting sick. I can feel it, I've done all I can to ward it off with supplements daily, so I'm hoping it's allergies that are kicking in and not strep. When I feel crappy, I'm not happy. And yes, poetry is also not my strength. However, my poor kiddos are then stuck with a mom who is not only tired from a full day of work, stressed about an unmowed part of her lawn, wondering about how to kill the bees that have invaded her children's play space but NOW she feels icky, so life for them becomes quite sticky. Patience is at a premium. I want to hide in bed, under the covers with ice cream since my throat doesn't hurt when ice cream is in my mouth. Yet, I have to deal with two stinky kids who need baths, one who has boogers herself and appears quite grumpy herself, and of course, those dogs are always needing me, too. If I was married, I could say, "Tag, you're it." And HE would have to take over the feeding, bathing, and putting to bed tasks.
Did I mention that I needed a haircut? Although it sounds random, it is one more thing that a single mom with little kids needs to fit in her day when she isn't with the kids, simply because first, I can't keep an eye on them and would hate for them to be abducted from Great Clips, and second, Mataya is still too little to expect her to sit quietly while mama gets her mane trimmed. Thus, I had to give up work time at school, sneak to Great Clips before going to pick up Mataya and Jadyn in their respective day cares. Normally, not a bad deal, but once again, I believe it's a hassle that if I had Mr. Perfect in my world, it wouldn't be.
Exercise. What's that? When would that take place? A home cooked meal? Seriously? You obviously live in Brady Bunch land where Alice is there for you. I, on the other hand, live more like the Simpsons. Lest you think I'm complaining, I'm not. I seriously am single by choice and 99% of the time love it. I simply need a Manny who will be at my beckon call for the things I described above. In the meantime, until I can afford my own Manny, I will simply continue to wake up knowing that no matter what the day holds, it will for sure be adventure at its best and what doesn't kill me, will typically make me grumpy, but stronger.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Joy
Joy is watching the Big Princess get so absorbed in a book she doesn't hear me when I softly call her name. So yes, I have to move to loudly calling her name.
Joy is the weather we are having right now. 70's and no humidity. Pure joy.
Joy is hitting the bottom of the crate of notebooks to correct and knowing there's only one class left.
Joy is watching my daughters love on their grandma.
Joy is a perfectly grilled steak and a loaded sweet potato that I didn't have to make.
Joy is a sleeping two year old. A peacefully sleeping two year old.
Joy is when the lesson I've planned works.
Joy is a new box of crayons. The 120 size with built in sharpener.
Joy is ice cream. Any kind, any time, any size.
Joy is a dog looking at you and wagging her tail. Then you look away, she looks away, then you look back at her, she looks back at you and guess what? She wags her tail again saying, "I love you."
Joy is hearing the Little Princess try to sing along with songs.
Joy is hitting the bottom of the to-do list and still having enough energy to do something fun with the kids.
Joy is no boogers.
Joy is when Mt. Laundry has been scaled.
Joy is an adult conversation with depth and meaning without the screaming of children and distracting moments.
Joy is a challenging thought.
Joy is supposed to be a constant when you have Christ leading your life. Yet, I needed to stop today and think of the many things that do bring me joy. Not happiness, joy. The stuff that runs in your blood. The stuff I really need to remember today.
Joy is the weather we are having right now. 70's and no humidity. Pure joy.
Joy is hitting the bottom of the crate of notebooks to correct and knowing there's only one class left.
Joy is watching my daughters love on their grandma.
Joy is a perfectly grilled steak and a loaded sweet potato that I didn't have to make.
Joy is a sleeping two year old. A peacefully sleeping two year old.
Joy is when the lesson I've planned works.
Joy is a new box of crayons. The 120 size with built in sharpener.
Joy is ice cream. Any kind, any time, any size.
Joy is a dog looking at you and wagging her tail. Then you look away, she looks away, then you look back at her, she looks back at you and guess what? She wags her tail again saying, "I love you."
Joy is hearing the Little Princess try to sing along with songs.
Joy is hitting the bottom of the to-do list and still having enough energy to do something fun with the kids.
Joy is no boogers.
Joy is when Mt. Laundry has been scaled.
Joy is an adult conversation with depth and meaning without the screaming of children and distracting moments.
Joy is a challenging thought.
Joy is supposed to be a constant when you have Christ leading your life. Yet, I needed to stop today and think of the many things that do bring me joy. Not happiness, joy. The stuff that runs in your blood. The stuff I really need to remember today.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Happy Birthday, Dad.
Today would be my dad's 76th birthday had he lived past 66. Hard to believe 10 years ago was the last time I sent him a birthday card or wished him a happy birthday over the phone. It actually was when his cancer was beginning to make its presence known, but he of course, was hiding it from us.
By October of 2000 he had gone to the doctor for xrays because of a pain in his back. The xrays showed nothing of course but when I was home for hunting in October, he came out of his bed in the middle of the night because of the back pain. I was sleeping on the couch because the house was full so I watched him walk around moaning and then he just went outside. Remember, middle of the night.
In November he had some rectal issues and we had him in to a specialist in Sioux Falls who did fissure repair, but he still didn't complain. In fact, his first complaint came on Dec 15th at about 4:30 AM which led to mom calling Kathy and then me at 5 AM which led to me telling her to get to Sanford ER now and I would arrange for Dr. Larson to see dad. This led to me calling Jen and Eric who I'm sure were sound asleep but they graciously accepted my panic with the love and friendship they've always shown. Kathy, Mom and Dad were at Sanford by 7:30 AM and at 8:55 AM, the doctor came into the ER room, grabbed me, took me to a private room and explained she had found tumors on dad's brain, his spleen and his liver. She said it was metastatic meaning it didn't originate any of those places, so they were admitting him to find the source of the cancer, and to prepare for whatever treatment was ahead. After telling me all of this, I sat there and said, "Maybe we should get my mom and tell her, too." The doctor was mortified thinking I was alone here with him and embarrassed she didn't ask ahead of time, but I assured her it was better that I knew ahead of time. So, I walked, along with the doctor to the waiting area where Kathy and Mom sat watching Good Morning America. As soon as they both looked at me, I burst into tears. Nice poker face, eh? Needless to say, I ended up calling the three brothers, too, since mom couldn't speak. Within 24 hours, the boys were all in Sioux Falls and Dad had all the family together with him in the hospital room.
I knew the cancer was from the lungs, since Dad had smoked since he was 12. But after various tests, they found it indeed originated there. The dad I knew who said he would never take chemo if he ever got cancer, suddenly changed his tune. He was sitting in the bed when they told him the prognosis. It was Stage 4 and basically, they could only treat it, not cure it. If he didn't take chemo, they gave him two weeks. If he did chemo and radiation combined, they thought maybe 2 months or a little more. He did both and we buried him five months to the day of his diagnosis.
I miss him so much. I've had various dreams with him in them. I've heard his audible voice even. It woke me up from a nap one afternoon and I literally looked all over the house for him and then burst into tears when I realized he wasn't there. Mostly, I miss showing him my kids and having him be a bad influence on them. He would love Jadyn and Mataya and would spoil them beyond belief, not to mention teach them all kinds of naughty things. I would love to fish with him again and have him teach Mataya and Jadyn how to fish, since I've failed miserably in that category. Fishing isn't the same since I lost him, but I still love it. I want him to see his other grandkids and see how wonderfully they've turned out and how successful each one is. But, he's gone. After ten years, one would think it would be easier and that time would heal the pain. I'm living proof that isn't the case as I sit here with tears of sadness streaming down my face, thinking of how very much I missed out on when I lost my dad to cancer.
By October of 2000 he had gone to the doctor for xrays because of a pain in his back. The xrays showed nothing of course but when I was home for hunting in October, he came out of his bed in the middle of the night because of the back pain. I was sleeping on the couch because the house was full so I watched him walk around moaning and then he just went outside. Remember, middle of the night.
In November he had some rectal issues and we had him in to a specialist in Sioux Falls who did fissure repair, but he still didn't complain. In fact, his first complaint came on Dec 15th at about 4:30 AM which led to mom calling Kathy and then me at 5 AM which led to me telling her to get to Sanford ER now and I would arrange for Dr. Larson to see dad. This led to me calling Jen and Eric who I'm sure were sound asleep but they graciously accepted my panic with the love and friendship they've always shown. Kathy, Mom and Dad were at Sanford by 7:30 AM and at 8:55 AM, the doctor came into the ER room, grabbed me, took me to a private room and explained she had found tumors on dad's brain, his spleen and his liver. She said it was metastatic meaning it didn't originate any of those places, so they were admitting him to find the source of the cancer, and to prepare for whatever treatment was ahead. After telling me all of this, I sat there and said, "Maybe we should get my mom and tell her, too." The doctor was mortified thinking I was alone here with him and embarrassed she didn't ask ahead of time, but I assured her it was better that I knew ahead of time. So, I walked, along with the doctor to the waiting area where Kathy and Mom sat watching Good Morning America. As soon as they both looked at me, I burst into tears. Nice poker face, eh? Needless to say, I ended up calling the three brothers, too, since mom couldn't speak. Within 24 hours, the boys were all in Sioux Falls and Dad had all the family together with him in the hospital room.
I knew the cancer was from the lungs, since Dad had smoked since he was 12. But after various tests, they found it indeed originated there. The dad I knew who said he would never take chemo if he ever got cancer, suddenly changed his tune. He was sitting in the bed when they told him the prognosis. It was Stage 4 and basically, they could only treat it, not cure it. If he didn't take chemo, they gave him two weeks. If he did chemo and radiation combined, they thought maybe 2 months or a little more. He did both and we buried him five months to the day of his diagnosis.
I miss him so much. I've had various dreams with him in them. I've heard his audible voice even. It woke me up from a nap one afternoon and I literally looked all over the house for him and then burst into tears when I realized he wasn't there. Mostly, I miss showing him my kids and having him be a bad influence on them. He would love Jadyn and Mataya and would spoil them beyond belief, not to mention teach them all kinds of naughty things. I would love to fish with him again and have him teach Mataya and Jadyn how to fish, since I've failed miserably in that category. Fishing isn't the same since I lost him, but I still love it. I want him to see his other grandkids and see how wonderfully they've turned out and how successful each one is. But, he's gone. After ten years, one would think it would be easier and that time would heal the pain. I'm living proof that isn't the case as I sit here with tears of sadness streaming down my face, thinking of how very much I missed out on when I lost my dad to cancer.
Monday, September 6, 2010
The Scream. (Insert piercing before scream)
It's Labor Day and I have had the pleasure of having friends from Kansas City staying with us all weekend. Brenda is the mom to Little J who is from the same orphanage as Little Princess is from. She is also a single mom so we have had fun getting to know each other and being able to share/commiserate raising children. And not just any children. Asian children. You may think that I exaggerate when I say they are different, but they are. One of their best and worst traits is they are survivors who had to fight to stay alive as infants. This translates into strong personalities and yes, the ever-scary hyphenated word: strong-willed.
Little J and Little Princess are quite the match. My Little Princess apparently loves to touch others, especially those who are her same size. Little J, not so fond of the touch. Since children don't naturally come into this world wanting to share, it made for quite the weekend when one would take what the other had. My Little Princess also loved Brenda and wanted to sit with her and with Grams (Brenda's mom) which would cause instant panic for Little J. All of this behavior, typical as it is, would lead to this scream. Not a normal scream. A high pitched, shrill, ear-piercing scream and the funny thing is, we couldn't tell which two year old it came from because it sounded the same! Suddenly, my admiration for Kelly and Janelle, two friends who have/are raising twins became HUGE.
The question this raised for me, however, is who the heck came up with the scream? When you google it, you get nothing. When you yahoo it, you get definitions. Why this piercing noise that starts at the toes and exits the mouth with a decibel level so high the neighborhood dogs all start barking? Why is it done when kids are happy, sad or scared, which in turn, makes it highly unpredictable? Why couldn't it have been a little grunt instead? Or better yet, a nice little middle C sounding hum? Why a scream?
Little Princess is a master of it. Big Princess has been a great teacher as she has one of the worst I've ever heard. Combine them and I seriously need therapy. The Scream has been performed in church, typically at the most silent of times and the poor people in front of me jumped a mile in their seats, before they turned to look at me wondering why I don't beat my children more. The Scream has initiated our dining experiences, most recently at a Chinese restaurant where most of the patrons were senior citizens. Add the age to the hearing aids and you had many who glared quite quickly in my direction after the scream, which by the way was because she was excited for the wonton soup. One lady almost fell off her chair after that scream. I felt terrible, but Little Princess simply smiled and said, "Noodles." (She LOVES Chinese food!)
Anyway, this weekend was a rampant version of Screams Alive with concert after concert. I don't quite know what to do about it if anything, but I still question why cave men/women, didn't simply hum a middle C sound instead of SCREAM.
Little J and Little Princess are quite the match. My Little Princess apparently loves to touch others, especially those who are her same size. Little J, not so fond of the touch. Since children don't naturally come into this world wanting to share, it made for quite the weekend when one would take what the other had. My Little Princess also loved Brenda and wanted to sit with her and with Grams (Brenda's mom) which would cause instant panic for Little J. All of this behavior, typical as it is, would lead to this scream. Not a normal scream. A high pitched, shrill, ear-piercing scream and the funny thing is, we couldn't tell which two year old it came from because it sounded the same! Suddenly, my admiration for Kelly and Janelle, two friends who have/are raising twins became HUGE.
The question this raised for me, however, is who the heck came up with the scream? When you google it, you get nothing. When you yahoo it, you get definitions. Why this piercing noise that starts at the toes and exits the mouth with a decibel level so high the neighborhood dogs all start barking? Why is it done when kids are happy, sad or scared, which in turn, makes it highly unpredictable? Why couldn't it have been a little grunt instead? Or better yet, a nice little middle C sounding hum? Why a scream?
Little Princess is a master of it. Big Princess has been a great teacher as she has one of the worst I've ever heard. Combine them and I seriously need therapy. The Scream has been performed in church, typically at the most silent of times and the poor people in front of me jumped a mile in their seats, before they turned to look at me wondering why I don't beat my children more. The Scream has initiated our dining experiences, most recently at a Chinese restaurant where most of the patrons were senior citizens. Add the age to the hearing aids and you had many who glared quite quickly in my direction after the scream, which by the way was because she was excited for the wonton soup. One lady almost fell off her chair after that scream. I felt terrible, but Little Princess simply smiled and said, "Noodles." (She LOVES Chinese food!)
Anyway, this weekend was a rampant version of Screams Alive with concert after concert. I don't quite know what to do about it if anything, but I still question why cave men/women, didn't simply hum a middle C sound instead of SCREAM.
Monday, August 30, 2010
When is good, too good?
The Big Princess and I had an interesting conversation today. She said some kids at recess said the word shut up and she said she made that surprised noise (not sure how to spell it or write it but it's the one you make when you're scared or appalled). She said when she made that noise, the kids laughed at her. I asked her why she think they laughed at her and she said, "Well, maybe they just think I'm too good and I don't want that."
This led of course, into more mom questions like "What does too good mean?" Her reply was you don't want to be the bad kid, but you also don't want to be the perfect one. She continued by saying how at school she worked really hard to be a good person but at home, she was so not a good person. Her final response was, "Mom, I don't want them to think that I think that I'm perfect."
This brought back many moments in my high school career when I was definitely "the goody two shoes." I didn't drink. I didn't have sex. I didn't do weed. I babysat. I worked. And trust me when I say I'm glad I chose that road, but it really isn't always the easiest road to choose. It's ironic this topic came up with The Big Princess because one of the people who was merciless about teasing me about being a goody-two shoes and involved with God so much is going to be one of the main speakers and the nation's largest Christian music festival in Sioux Falls this weekend (obviously, God has gripped his heart now and he does have quite the story). If I didn't want to go with the group (his girlfriend was my best friend) he would make comments to me like, "Oh, sorry we aren't good enough for you. Go bowl with your youth group." Then there would be snide comments here and there ("Go read your Bible or go say your prayers") and I knew people thought that about me. As one matures, one realizes that the righteousness aspect of religion can come off so negatively if not directed correctly. I'm sure I came off quite righteous as times and didn't know how else to handle it. I also know that I was a goody two shoes, but not because I felt like I was better than they were but simply because I was scared of not being in total control of myself. And the aspect of trying to live right was always there.
So, how do I answer my Big Princess who doesn't want to be too good or too bad? Finding a happy medium is something that comes with maturity, yet I don't want her to choose to be bad simply because she thinks kids won't laugh at her. But I also don't want kids laughing at her. But I also don't want her to feel the pressure to be perfect.
I need a parenting manual. And can it be a graphic novel form so it's a quick read?
This led of course, into more mom questions like "What does too good mean?" Her reply was you don't want to be the bad kid, but you also don't want to be the perfect one. She continued by saying how at school she worked really hard to be a good person but at home, she was so not a good person. Her final response was, "Mom, I don't want them to think that I think that I'm perfect."
This brought back many moments in my high school career when I was definitely "the goody two shoes." I didn't drink. I didn't have sex. I didn't do weed. I babysat. I worked. And trust me when I say I'm glad I chose that road, but it really isn't always the easiest road to choose. It's ironic this topic came up with The Big Princess because one of the people who was merciless about teasing me about being a goody-two shoes and involved with God so much is going to be one of the main speakers and the nation's largest Christian music festival in Sioux Falls this weekend (obviously, God has gripped his heart now and he does have quite the story). If I didn't want to go with the group (his girlfriend was my best friend) he would make comments to me like, "Oh, sorry we aren't good enough for you. Go bowl with your youth group." Then there would be snide comments here and there ("Go read your Bible or go say your prayers") and I knew people thought that about me. As one matures, one realizes that the righteousness aspect of religion can come off so negatively if not directed correctly. I'm sure I came off quite righteous as times and didn't know how else to handle it. I also know that I was a goody two shoes, but not because I felt like I was better than they were but simply because I was scared of not being in total control of myself. And the aspect of trying to live right was always there.
So, how do I answer my Big Princess who doesn't want to be too good or too bad? Finding a happy medium is something that comes with maturity, yet I don't want her to choose to be bad simply because she thinks kids won't laugh at her. But I also don't want kids laughing at her. But I also don't want her to feel the pressure to be perfect.
I need a parenting manual. And can it be a graphic novel form so it's a quick read?
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Girl Drama
We are in our second full week of school...almost finished as a matter of fact and yes, I can FEEL it tonight, but I digress. Today I am finally starting to "see" who my lovely children are that I get the fun of spending 8 hours a day with. In other words, the honeymoon is over. I sent my first one to the hall today, simply because he has diarrhea of the mouth and there appeared to be no cure for that. So, ba-bye. I went to talk with him and assured him it was only by my loving grace that his little hiney wasn't in the office. When I asked how he's going to fix the problem, he had an idea so I'm going with that for a bit to see how it goes. I believe I now have another name to cross off the list of "possible children's names" even if I'm done with children. That would be Harrison.
However, Harrison drama is nothing compared to the already starting girl drama. It isn't just at the middle school either. Yesterday, Big Princess was excited to see me when I picked her up at after school care. This surprised me and within five seconds of walking out of the gym, she said, "Mom, Myra just messed up my computer game by pulling out my mouse. Then it ruined everything I had done. And Katie wouldn't play with me today. I don't know why." So, we go back over tactics for survival that should could use, like the whole find something else to do if they won't play with you, or find a new friend and so on. She is shy, but is actually really brave at walking up to kids and making new friends right away. Her final comment, "I am not playing with Little Princess tonight because I've had enough girl drama." I totally get it.
At middle school level, I've already had one student kicked out of school for a week (a girl who threatened to beat up another girl--obviously this girl has a record already established or it would never be this long and this drastic but because of the problems she caused last year, they simply threw the book at her right away) and today I had another girl put into in school suspension for some drama going on. When the principal came up to get this girl's belongings, he grabbed another girl in my class and read her the riot act out in the hall starting out his mini-lecture with, "I am seeing lots of girls in my office and many of the stories we're being told have your name involved in them. You better start making better choices or you're going to be in my office next." I love my principal by the way.
Holy smokes, I seriously don't remember ever being this dramatic. But I do know my only visit to the principal's office was due to the fact that I was playing "kill the guy with the ball" at recess with the boys and the principal said I had to stop and play with the girls. Yes, today he wouldn't get away with that, but at the time, it ended my football playing career which I started because my little brother and I played together all the time so I did boy things quite naturally. It was at that point in my life, which was 3rd grade, when I realized what girl drama was. My sister was never into it either so we didn't have it at home, but since I was forced to watch the girls jump rope and do cheers, I got to see girl drama for the first time. I would have to say my high school graduating class of 20 did have its share of girl drama but I truly did try to stay out of it.
My hope is to instill in my daughter the ability to stay out of it, too, but it's such a different world. And add to the fact that she is going to be strikingly beautiful and smoking hot and you can pretty much bet that she will be the victim of quite a bit of drama from jealous girls and so on. Man, I wish there was a manual with these girls. I really want to do the right things but what the heck constitutes "right" when it comes to preparing them for life with girl drama?
However, Harrison drama is nothing compared to the already starting girl drama. It isn't just at the middle school either. Yesterday, Big Princess was excited to see me when I picked her up at after school care. This surprised me and within five seconds of walking out of the gym, she said, "Mom, Myra just messed up my computer game by pulling out my mouse. Then it ruined everything I had done. And Katie wouldn't play with me today. I don't know why." So, we go back over tactics for survival that should could use, like the whole find something else to do if they won't play with you, or find a new friend and so on. She is shy, but is actually really brave at walking up to kids and making new friends right away. Her final comment, "I am not playing with Little Princess tonight because I've had enough girl drama." I totally get it.
At middle school level, I've already had one student kicked out of school for a week (a girl who threatened to beat up another girl--obviously this girl has a record already established or it would never be this long and this drastic but because of the problems she caused last year, they simply threw the book at her right away) and today I had another girl put into in school suspension for some drama going on. When the principal came up to get this girl's belongings, he grabbed another girl in my class and read her the riot act out in the hall starting out his mini-lecture with, "I am seeing lots of girls in my office and many of the stories we're being told have your name involved in them. You better start making better choices or you're going to be in my office next." I love my principal by the way.
Holy smokes, I seriously don't remember ever being this dramatic. But I do know my only visit to the principal's office was due to the fact that I was playing "kill the guy with the ball" at recess with the boys and the principal said I had to stop and play with the girls. Yes, today he wouldn't get away with that, but at the time, it ended my football playing career which I started because my little brother and I played together all the time so I did boy things quite naturally. It was at that point in my life, which was 3rd grade, when I realized what girl drama was. My sister was never into it either so we didn't have it at home, but since I was forced to watch the girls jump rope and do cheers, I got to see girl drama for the first time. I would have to say my high school graduating class of 20 did have its share of girl drama but I truly did try to stay out of it.
My hope is to instill in my daughter the ability to stay out of it, too, but it's such a different world. And add to the fact that she is going to be strikingly beautiful and smoking hot and you can pretty much bet that she will be the victim of quite a bit of drama from jealous girls and so on. Man, I wish there was a manual with these girls. I really want to do the right things but what the heck constitutes "right" when it comes to preparing them for life with girl drama?
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Adults behaving badly
So today after school the Gideons were handing out their little New Testaments to the Edison kids. They were following the law of course, by staying on the sidewalk which is the closest they can get to the building legally. None were forced to take the Bibles, simply offered them. It was quite peaceful. UNTIL.....this guy pulls up, honks, jumps out of the car and starts YELLING at the Gideons who were handing these out. He then proceeded to say he was going to bring the Koran and hand it out, which had he said it to an administrator, they simply could have said, "Feel free as long as you stay on the sidewalk." Unfortunately, after ranting and raving, he then jumped in his car, turned up his stereo full blast, and drove away. While leaving, I guess he called the police. It must have slipped his eye site to see the policeman and the car sitting in front of our school everyday at the end of the day. He drove around the block watching for the police to show up and he continued to yell things at those passing out Bibles. Eventually, everyone left and life went back to normal.
I can't even begin to know where to start. Seriously? Yelling at those passing out the books? Blasting your stereo to make a point about what? That you like Lady Gaga or Barry Manilow or whatever it was you were blasting? Pass out the Koran? If you want, go ahead. As frustrating as his reaction was, and as idiotic as it appeared to those who consider the Bible a privilege to own, I fear he has watched Christians reacting to his religion, which appeared to be Muslim. I am sure he has been the target of little tolerance on the part of those non-muslims in our community and apparently, decided to snap. Who really knows for sure except him, but again, what bothers me so much is not only his insistence on freaking out when everything was entirely legal, but the audience he had with our students, one of which I believe was his son. Middle school kids do not need to see one more person ripping apart another person or system of which they feel "offended." They come to us so "entitled" as it is that we literally have to teach manners of please, thank you, and no, we don't insult someone like that because it's wrong. Just plain wrong. We act in a calm and respectful manner, even when what is happening may not be, in our opinion, the correct version of what is right.
Anyway, never boring, is it? And I can pretty much figure out by the number of office referrals and this wild parent behavior that the moon is full, even without looking at it.
I can't even begin to know where to start. Seriously? Yelling at those passing out the books? Blasting your stereo to make a point about what? That you like Lady Gaga or Barry Manilow or whatever it was you were blasting? Pass out the Koran? If you want, go ahead. As frustrating as his reaction was, and as idiotic as it appeared to those who consider the Bible a privilege to own, I fear he has watched Christians reacting to his religion, which appeared to be Muslim. I am sure he has been the target of little tolerance on the part of those non-muslims in our community and apparently, decided to snap. Who really knows for sure except him, but again, what bothers me so much is not only his insistence on freaking out when everything was entirely legal, but the audience he had with our students, one of which I believe was his son. Middle school kids do not need to see one more person ripping apart another person or system of which they feel "offended." They come to us so "entitled" as it is that we literally have to teach manners of please, thank you, and no, we don't insult someone like that because it's wrong. Just plain wrong. We act in a calm and respectful manner, even when what is happening may not be, in our opinion, the correct version of what is right.
Anyway, never boring, is it? And I can pretty much figure out by the number of office referrals and this wild parent behavior that the moon is full, even without looking at it.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Mid-life crisis
How old does one have to be to officially be having a mid-life crisis?
I'm trying to decide if I'm in one right now. Dropped facebook because of old insecurities and new found voyeurism that sometimes confused me and made me wonder what I was doing. Yet, I miss it sometimes.
I'm changing up my teaching style and teaching ways and trying new things. I can't decide if I'm simply changing my expectations or lowering them or becoming a better teacher. I just don't know.
I'm in bed now with questions bouncing around my head so much that I can't sleep, even after a chelada. So, then I wonder if I need to be studying something or sharing things that are more spiritual based that teach me and challenge me. But the questions are random.....some family related, like should I force my daughter who doesn't like Sunday school to go to it simply because it's church? Or is it? Some professional related questions arise. Lots of life questions come up and worries that I typically get through okay but suddenly things are big. Like my butt. Big.
So, there I am. Out there. Wondering if I'm ever going to qualify as normal or if I ever want to. Wondering if 44 is when mid-life hits and these are all normal things or whether I'm one step closer to insanity.
Then I wonder if I need to spend time learning the digital scrapbooking art from my buddy, Kelly, so when I need an outlet of creativity I could scrap my girls' lives, or better yet, our lives together. Sigh.
Somebody, somewhere has to know the answers to all of these problems! lol. No, seriously. Help.
I'm trying to decide if I'm in one right now. Dropped facebook because of old insecurities and new found voyeurism that sometimes confused me and made me wonder what I was doing. Yet, I miss it sometimes.
I'm changing up my teaching style and teaching ways and trying new things. I can't decide if I'm simply changing my expectations or lowering them or becoming a better teacher. I just don't know.
I'm in bed now with questions bouncing around my head so much that I can't sleep, even after a chelada. So, then I wonder if I need to be studying something or sharing things that are more spiritual based that teach me and challenge me. But the questions are random.....some family related, like should I force my daughter who doesn't like Sunday school to go to it simply because it's church? Or is it? Some professional related questions arise. Lots of life questions come up and worries that I typically get through okay but suddenly things are big. Like my butt. Big.
So, there I am. Out there. Wondering if I'm ever going to qualify as normal or if I ever want to. Wondering if 44 is when mid-life hits and these are all normal things or whether I'm one step closer to insanity.
Then I wonder if I need to spend time learning the digital scrapbooking art from my buddy, Kelly, so when I need an outlet of creativity I could scrap my girls' lives, or better yet, our lives together. Sigh.
Somebody, somewhere has to know the answers to all of these problems! lol. No, seriously. Help.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Ah...silence.
And my house is filled with silence. Not so sure I'm okay with that long term, but since it's Sunday night and when I wake in the morning we'll be back at it for five solid days, I'll take the silence for the moment. Not to mention the Little Princess didn't get a nap today so it was quite "un-silent" at my home between 7-8 pm.
Silence has typically been one of those things I've had a love/hate relationship with. I'm an introvert with extrovert ability so I can step it up when needed, but I get zapped big time and need my introvertish moments of silence and alone time to recharge. Introvert does not equal silence, but many times, it leads there. During college I doubt silence was ever a part of my intentional world. It was after college when I moved away from my friends and began life as a new teacher in Mitchell that I experienced my first real silence. And I hated it.
I went through an awful "shedding of my youth" stage. I have a few friends and a few former students who are going through the same thing right now. I remember not getting life at all. I was doing what I wanted by being a teacher, and I was gainfully employed so all should be well, right? Not so much. I spent many nights sobbing. I spent many early mornings into the late evenings at school, avoiding the fact that I was no longer living in a dorm surrounded by my pals who were willing and able to spend time with me at a moment's notice. And, they all liked me. I had friends in Mitchell and eventually had a roommate that I enjoyed living with, but it was different. I was ultimately stuck in the place that was slowly making life miserable for me. That place was where I sometimes find myself still on rare occasions and I call it the "popular lonely." I had friends; I had invites to things. I had a person living with me and was surrounded by 120 kids all day long. Yet, lonely.
Eventually, this loneliness took over. Everything. I ended up admitting my weakness to my sister, with that weakness being my utter desire to live had left. I visited my friend's mom who was a doctor (yes, we can all say awkward together) who diagnosed me with clinical depression. This was my first bout with it, although as I look back, I know it's a family trait and a definite chemical thing with me. So, I found a counselor in Sioux Falls who loved me so much she had her husband hire me for the summer, but what I discovered with her guidance was that I merely had hit a point in life where my youth was colliding with adulthood and I wasn't ready for it, nor was I happy with it. Reality of the fact that I was alone sunk in. It wasn't even the whole paying bills, going to work, and stuff like that. It really was the whole I was missing being the big fish in a small pond at USF and was missing the assurance I felt while surrounded by those who loved me. Now I was alone and had to figure out who the heck I was. Tough waters to row through. In fact, I hated those years. I lost weight though, but so not the way to do it.
Looking back I survived. It was lots of talks with my counselor and lots of introspection on my part that allowed me to realize being alone is okay. Silence works sometimes. Going to a movie alone wasn't going to land me on society's black list. Eating out alone was even acceptable. Yet, the struggle continued and I would venture to say by the time I was 28, I had worked through much of it (although then the whole struggle with singleness began so life really is one phase after another). But shedding that youth really brought to the surface things I had hidden from myself for years. So, although painful, in the end, it served its purpose well in allowing me accept that in my life, there will be silence and it is something I must be willing to accept and in fact, welcome with open arms. So, I do, albeit with a solo tear streaming down one cheek sometimes....
Silence has typically been one of those things I've had a love/hate relationship with. I'm an introvert with extrovert ability so I can step it up when needed, but I get zapped big time and need my introvertish moments of silence and alone time to recharge. Introvert does not equal silence, but many times, it leads there. During college I doubt silence was ever a part of my intentional world. It was after college when I moved away from my friends and began life as a new teacher in Mitchell that I experienced my first real silence. And I hated it.
I went through an awful "shedding of my youth" stage. I have a few friends and a few former students who are going through the same thing right now. I remember not getting life at all. I was doing what I wanted by being a teacher, and I was gainfully employed so all should be well, right? Not so much. I spent many nights sobbing. I spent many early mornings into the late evenings at school, avoiding the fact that I was no longer living in a dorm surrounded by my pals who were willing and able to spend time with me at a moment's notice. And, they all liked me. I had friends in Mitchell and eventually had a roommate that I enjoyed living with, but it was different. I was ultimately stuck in the place that was slowly making life miserable for me. That place was where I sometimes find myself still on rare occasions and I call it the "popular lonely." I had friends; I had invites to things. I had a person living with me and was surrounded by 120 kids all day long. Yet, lonely.
Eventually, this loneliness took over. Everything. I ended up admitting my weakness to my sister, with that weakness being my utter desire to live had left. I visited my friend's mom who was a doctor (yes, we can all say awkward together) who diagnosed me with clinical depression. This was my first bout with it, although as I look back, I know it's a family trait and a definite chemical thing with me. So, I found a counselor in Sioux Falls who loved me so much she had her husband hire me for the summer, but what I discovered with her guidance was that I merely had hit a point in life where my youth was colliding with adulthood and I wasn't ready for it, nor was I happy with it. Reality of the fact that I was alone sunk in. It wasn't even the whole paying bills, going to work, and stuff like that. It really was the whole I was missing being the big fish in a small pond at USF and was missing the assurance I felt while surrounded by those who loved me. Now I was alone and had to figure out who the heck I was. Tough waters to row through. In fact, I hated those years. I lost weight though, but so not the way to do it.
Looking back I survived. It was lots of talks with my counselor and lots of introspection on my part that allowed me to realize being alone is okay. Silence works sometimes. Going to a movie alone wasn't going to land me on society's black list. Eating out alone was even acceptable. Yet, the struggle continued and I would venture to say by the time I was 28, I had worked through much of it (although then the whole struggle with singleness began so life really is one phase after another). But shedding that youth really brought to the surface things I had hidden from myself for years. So, although painful, in the end, it served its purpose well in allowing me accept that in my life, there will be silence and it is something I must be willing to accept and in fact, welcome with open arms. So, I do, albeit with a solo tear streaming down one cheek sometimes....
And of course, there are my own kiddos.
Big and Little Princess continue to keep me busy.
Big Princess is loving school, but not as much as she loves after school care. I wasn't sure how she'd do since this is the first time she's stayed at the school instead of going to Paula's, but she LOVES it. When I show up to get her, I usually get a scowl and a, "You came too soon, Mom." Of course, when I go to pick up Little Princess, I get the same attitude and the same desire to stay at daycare instead of coming home with me, so I'm beginning to pick up a pattern here. Luckily, my self esteem issues aren't in those areas of my world!
Big Princess's latest fetish is catching moths. Yes, moths. I guess she does it at school, too because she said her school mates are calling her "creepy" because she and her friend prefer to catch moths, name them, hold them, talk to them, and so on. Right now she is eating lunch with her new moth, Junior (they're all named Junior by the way) next to her on a napkin. To me, Junior looks dead, but she is quite assured that he knows how to play dead and will even roll over on his back to show his ability. Our lunch discussion was about raising moths and what ifs.
Little Princess is talking much more. In fact, babbling is more accurate. Constant babble is probably the definitive answer. The good news is I can understand most of it, but then there's that 10% I can't, which leads to major frustration on her part. She is adjusting quite well to school hours and mommy being away. She is even sleeping better at night, which equals mama sleeping better at night which equals happiness abounding compared to sleepless mama who lived at this house for over a year. The fun thing to watch is her evolve in her speaking and understanding of our world. At lunch a bit ago, she said, "More, Mama." I gave her more to which she replied, "Thank you, Mama." Then she burped really loudly (sister has taught her well) and she said, "Excuse me, Mama." So, manners are there amidst the evil. ;o)
This morning mama slept in a bit because two little critters had crawled into bed with her and needless to say, that didn't work well as Little P didn't like it so she kept waking up and crying---about 8 times to be exact. So, I had an excuse to sleep later than intended; however, I did get up in time to get off to church at 10:30. At 10:30 is when our church offers Sunday school for elementary aged children and of course, they also have nursery and class available for Little Princess. I told them both they were going to Sunday school. Big Princess threw a fit which allowed Little Princess to jump in and throw her fit. I just kept driving and suddenly it was all quiet in the back seat. I looked in the mirror to see them both with their hands folded and their heads bowed. I asked Big Princess what was going on and she replied with, "We're praying really hard that we can stay in church with you and not go to Sunday school." The dilemma began. I did keep them with me, but now I have to decide if that's the best decision or not. Unfortunately, I can't discuss it now as Little P has decided mama has had her 10 mins on the computer and it's time for her to get off. More later.....
Big Princess is loving school, but not as much as she loves after school care. I wasn't sure how she'd do since this is the first time she's stayed at the school instead of going to Paula's, but she LOVES it. When I show up to get her, I usually get a scowl and a, "You came too soon, Mom." Of course, when I go to pick up Little Princess, I get the same attitude and the same desire to stay at daycare instead of coming home with me, so I'm beginning to pick up a pattern here. Luckily, my self esteem issues aren't in those areas of my world!
Big Princess's latest fetish is catching moths. Yes, moths. I guess she does it at school, too because she said her school mates are calling her "creepy" because she and her friend prefer to catch moths, name them, hold them, talk to them, and so on. Right now she is eating lunch with her new moth, Junior (they're all named Junior by the way) next to her on a napkin. To me, Junior looks dead, but she is quite assured that he knows how to play dead and will even roll over on his back to show his ability. Our lunch discussion was about raising moths and what ifs.
Little Princess is talking much more. In fact, babbling is more accurate. Constant babble is probably the definitive answer. The good news is I can understand most of it, but then there's that 10% I can't, which leads to major frustration on her part. She is adjusting quite well to school hours and mommy being away. She is even sleeping better at night, which equals mama sleeping better at night which equals happiness abounding compared to sleepless mama who lived at this house for over a year. The fun thing to watch is her evolve in her speaking and understanding of our world. At lunch a bit ago, she said, "More, Mama." I gave her more to which she replied, "Thank you, Mama." Then she burped really loudly (sister has taught her well) and she said, "Excuse me, Mama." So, manners are there amidst the evil. ;o)
This morning mama slept in a bit because two little critters had crawled into bed with her and needless to say, that didn't work well as Little P didn't like it so she kept waking up and crying---about 8 times to be exact. So, I had an excuse to sleep later than intended; however, I did get up in time to get off to church at 10:30. At 10:30 is when our church offers Sunday school for elementary aged children and of course, they also have nursery and class available for Little Princess. I told them both they were going to Sunday school. Big Princess threw a fit which allowed Little Princess to jump in and throw her fit. I just kept driving and suddenly it was all quiet in the back seat. I looked in the mirror to see them both with their hands folded and their heads bowed. I asked Big Princess what was going on and she replied with, "We're praying really hard that we can stay in church with you and not go to Sunday school." The dilemma began. I did keep them with me, but now I have to decide if that's the best decision or not. Unfortunately, I can't discuss it now as Little P has decided mama has had her 10 mins on the computer and it's time for her to get off. More later.....
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Kids and their viewpoints....
The following are things my students wrote or said to me at some point this week. Some are quite entertaining. Others meh. Either way, they are things that make my job one of the most entertaining in the world.
1. My grandma died which was bad, but not as bad as when my hamster did.
2. I'm good at running away from a dog that just bit me.
3. One of my favorite things to do is put butter on my dog.
4. I haven't gotten in trouble yet this year. (It was the first day of school.)
5. I am fluffy and really want to get rid of some of this fluff. (A kid who is overweight wrote this.)
6. I got asked out by the cutest guy in 6th grade. I was so excited. But five minutes later he broke up with me.
7. I like nerf guns. (Written by a small 7th grader who still plays with transformers while in front of all parents/kids at PST.)
8. My mom took four pregnancy tests yesterday and all were positive. She said they had been trying. I find that she told me that a little awkward, don't you?
9. I am really good at making my brother cry.
10. Talking in front of the class makes me hyperventilate and then I sound like I have food in my mouth.
1. My grandma died which was bad, but not as bad as when my hamster did.
2. I'm good at running away from a dog that just bit me.
3. One of my favorite things to do is put butter on my dog.
4. I haven't gotten in trouble yet this year. (It was the first day of school.)
5. I am fluffy and really want to get rid of some of this fluff. (A kid who is overweight wrote this.)
6. I got asked out by the cutest guy in 6th grade. I was so excited. But five minutes later he broke up with me.
7. I like nerf guns. (Written by a small 7th grader who still plays with transformers while in front of all parents/kids at PST.)
8. My mom took four pregnancy tests yesterday and all were positive. She said they had been trying. I find that she told me that a little awkward, don't you?
9. I am really good at making my brother cry.
10. Talking in front of the class makes me hyperventilate and then I sound like I have food in my mouth.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Refusal
What a week it's been. Awesome start to the school year. A few technological glitches here and there, but it appears most of those are solved. The kids seem to be pretty darn normal for as abnormal as 12-13 year olds are. I love being able to feel ready for the day and prepared for what's ahead simply because I'm healthy. It's those little things I'm learning that make life so much richer than ever imagined.
Today brought an early challenge to the table. The challenge reared its head in my last class of the day, my Class Within a Class as it is called, which basically means there's a plethora of special ed students in my class and a special ed teacher with me to assist. One of those lovely children, whom I felt I had a good rapport with, suddenly got angry at me for asking him to research his birthday. We're doing Pieces of Me books and this year I'm breaking it into smaller segments so it's not so overwhelming, thus we're starting now with the first page of the book which is called "The History of My Birthday." I gave them a sheet to fill in, websites to visit, complete examples and instructions to follow, so I felt like all were ready for it. Not Tony. Holy smokes!
Me: Tony, you need to start writing things down when you see them on the website.
Him: This is a stupid project and I am not doing it. I'm just going to take an F.
Me: Hmm, that's not an acceptable option.
Him: I hate books.
Me: This is a book about you.
Him: I'm not doing it. (Tears welling up, voice quavering)
Me: C'mon, you gotta try. (Trying to distract) Look, here's some things that happened on your birthday.
Him: Those are stupid. I already know I was born on Groundhog Day. That's enough.
Me: That's a cool fact to include, but it won't get you through 150 words of writing.
Him: I'll write 55 words. Will you take that?
Me: I'll take 150 which I showed you yesterday was not that much if you get enough facts to fill it in.
Him: (Tears well) I hate books. I am not going to do it.
Although I've been at this job for 20 years, it never ceases to amaze me the balls that kids today have. I can't ever remember any of my classmates ever daring to refuse to do a project. Especially one that was as cool as this one and one that I basically am making simple enough for any student no matter what level they function at, to complete. I had to walk away simply because I wasn't going to engage him anymore and I wasn't going to lose it over this battle. (Did I mention that while this was going on, my mom was at the ER at the Heart Hospital in SF and I had no clue whether it was heart related or what was going on, so I was a little on edge and distracted.) Either way, I clearly wanted him to understand that although he may think he is going to get away with just taking an F, that isn't going to happen. I emailed his counselor and the assistant principal to allow them to intervene in this situation before he started to bank on what he thinks was his choice----to fail. I have a feeling this is going to be a battle in the end, but I believe I am willing to die on this hill because I am sick and tired of kids repeatedly deciding, "I'll just take the zero" instead of deciding, "I'll try to do it." What is it going to take to turn this generation around or even turn it in a direction that is an acceptable path to follow? Sigh. What a day.
Today brought an early challenge to the table. The challenge reared its head in my last class of the day, my Class Within a Class as it is called, which basically means there's a plethora of special ed students in my class and a special ed teacher with me to assist. One of those lovely children, whom I felt I had a good rapport with, suddenly got angry at me for asking him to research his birthday. We're doing Pieces of Me books and this year I'm breaking it into smaller segments so it's not so overwhelming, thus we're starting now with the first page of the book which is called "The History of My Birthday." I gave them a sheet to fill in, websites to visit, complete examples and instructions to follow, so I felt like all were ready for it. Not Tony. Holy smokes!
Me: Tony, you need to start writing things down when you see them on the website.
Him: This is a stupid project and I am not doing it. I'm just going to take an F.
Me: Hmm, that's not an acceptable option.
Him: I hate books.
Me: This is a book about you.
Him: I'm not doing it. (Tears welling up, voice quavering)
Me: C'mon, you gotta try. (Trying to distract) Look, here's some things that happened on your birthday.
Him: Those are stupid. I already know I was born on Groundhog Day. That's enough.
Me: That's a cool fact to include, but it won't get you through 150 words of writing.
Him: I'll write 55 words. Will you take that?
Me: I'll take 150 which I showed you yesterday was not that much if you get enough facts to fill it in.
Him: (Tears well) I hate books. I am not going to do it.
Although I've been at this job for 20 years, it never ceases to amaze me the balls that kids today have. I can't ever remember any of my classmates ever daring to refuse to do a project. Especially one that was as cool as this one and one that I basically am making simple enough for any student no matter what level they function at, to complete. I had to walk away simply because I wasn't going to engage him anymore and I wasn't going to lose it over this battle. (Did I mention that while this was going on, my mom was at the ER at the Heart Hospital in SF and I had no clue whether it was heart related or what was going on, so I was a little on edge and distracted.) Either way, I clearly wanted him to understand that although he may think he is going to get away with just taking an F, that isn't going to happen. I emailed his counselor and the assistant principal to allow them to intervene in this situation before he started to bank on what he thinks was his choice----to fail. I have a feeling this is going to be a battle in the end, but I believe I am willing to die on this hill because I am sick and tired of kids repeatedly deciding, "I'll just take the zero" instead of deciding, "I'll try to do it." What is it going to take to turn this generation around or even turn it in a direction that is an acceptable path to follow? Sigh. What a day.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Seriously.
Tonight I question my decision to parent two alone. That's just about all I can say about that.
Monday, August 16, 2010
One day closer to summer...
Day one is over. Complete. Finished. Kaput. Actually, it went awesome. I had fun today and realized that God has placed me exactly where I need to be. I love my job. Middle school kids make me laugh all the time and middle school teachers jump in where the kids leave off and make me giggle even more. It's been a long day, but one I would say was a great beginning to my 20th year. To celebrate, I shall indulge in a chelada and some pretzels. Cheers!
Family update: Big Princess started 3rd grade. She had a great day and loves her new teacher and her only disappointment was she didn't get any homework. She also informed me that in her entire class, she is the only kid who wrote down reading as her favorite thing to do in the summer. That's my girl! Another highlight of her day was when the teacher gave them an hour to arrange their desks and all of their new school supplies. Organizing and touching new markers, pens, pencils and so on is one of the Big Princesses fetishes so she was in Staples heaven. Man, I love that kid.
Little Princess greeted me with a crown on her head she had made at Paula's with a little jig to go with that crown. Happy to see me, yet excited to be with Paula. A perfect world.
The furry children, Jersey and Bailey are not happy campers. They are neglected and needing to be brushed and hugged. Soon, my furry critters, soon.
Family update: Big Princess started 3rd grade. She had a great day and loves her new teacher and her only disappointment was she didn't get any homework. She also informed me that in her entire class, she is the only kid who wrote down reading as her favorite thing to do in the summer. That's my girl! Another highlight of her day was when the teacher gave them an hour to arrange their desks and all of their new school supplies. Organizing and touching new markers, pens, pencils and so on is one of the Big Princesses fetishes so she was in Staples heaven. Man, I love that kid.
Little Princess greeted me with a crown on her head she had made at Paula's with a little jig to go with that crown. Happy to see me, yet excited to be with Paula. A perfect world.
The furry children, Jersey and Bailey are not happy campers. They are neglected and needing to be brushed and hugged. Soon, my furry critters, soon.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Peace, please.
For 20 years now I've had the same issue on the night before the first day of school. I can't sleep. I can't get to sleep, I can't stay asleep, I can't sleep. I even thought this year would be different because ultimately, my room is ready, my class lists are printed (although will need to be reprinted as changes have happened miraculously through the weekend), my plans for the entire week are laid out. I even have the stuff I need to take to school packed and ready to go. And yet, it is almost midnight and exactly three hours ago I took two Excedrin PM's to help with the headache I'd been fighting all day and to knock me on my behind so I could sleep. Unfortunately, it hasn't helped me sleep. Fortunately, the headache has been depleted. My bladder is even empty. What the heck? I would expect this from a first or even fifth year teacher, but after 20 years?
Needless to say, I would venture to guess many of my colleagues are in the same sleepless boat I am in right now. Add to that the many students who are anxious and nervous all at the same time and that first day of school is quite an adventure. The Big Princess had her lunch for tomorrow packed at 2 PM today. She had her school supplies all in her backpack and labeled by 2:30. Then, her entire week's worth of clothes are laid in their respective hanging organizer, all done by 3 PM. So, what was left for her? The brooding. The fretting. The "Mom, what ifs" that we had to talk through.
"Mom, what if kids call me short?"
I replied, "Say thank you with a big smile." (Which I then demonstrated.)
"Really?"
I smiled. "Nah, let's do it this way. Say thank you with a big smile but add the southern accent to it."
She giggled.
I continued. "And if they call you Chinese in a bad way, say the same thing. If they make fun of anything about you, say it. Now say it for me."
"Thank you (said by an amazingly cute Chinese kid with a southern accent)!"
Perfect.
I just walked into her room a few minutes ago and watched her sleep, peacefully. I stared at her as she breathed in and out, without a care in the world. Then, I wiped tears away as I realized the time she is in my household and my daily constant care are slipping through my fingers every second. So, I prayed a blessing on her, seeking not only peace for me, but asking for continued peace for her as she faces tomorrow's unknowns.
Continuing down the hall with a furry friend right by my side the whole way, I decided maybe writing will help give me the peace so needed. My heart is burdened with former students whose lives are a mess. It's burdened with current students whose lives I'm about to enter who have so many battles within their little hearts and heads. I'm concerned about the future of not only these kids but of education as a whole. Where are we heading specifically? Technology has changed our world and to me, it's made it so darn scary even the good things about it. My two year old will graduate in 2026. What will education be like THEN? (Which, by the way, will be when I'm 60!)
Okay, so this whole use writing to gain peace thing isn't going to work tonight. I think I'll go count my new pens and pencils.
Needless to say, I would venture to guess many of my colleagues are in the same sleepless boat I am in right now. Add to that the many students who are anxious and nervous all at the same time and that first day of school is quite an adventure. The Big Princess had her lunch for tomorrow packed at 2 PM today. She had her school supplies all in her backpack and labeled by 2:30. Then, her entire week's worth of clothes are laid in their respective hanging organizer, all done by 3 PM. So, what was left for her? The brooding. The fretting. The "Mom, what ifs" that we had to talk through.
"Mom, what if kids call me short?"
I replied, "Say thank you with a big smile." (Which I then demonstrated.)
"Really?"
I smiled. "Nah, let's do it this way. Say thank you with a big smile but add the southern accent to it."
She giggled.
I continued. "And if they call you Chinese in a bad way, say the same thing. If they make fun of anything about you, say it. Now say it for me."
"Thank you (said by an amazingly cute Chinese kid with a southern accent)!"
Perfect.
I just walked into her room a few minutes ago and watched her sleep, peacefully. I stared at her as she breathed in and out, without a care in the world. Then, I wiped tears away as I realized the time she is in my household and my daily constant care are slipping through my fingers every second. So, I prayed a blessing on her, seeking not only peace for me, but asking for continued peace for her as she faces tomorrow's unknowns.
Continuing down the hall with a furry friend right by my side the whole way, I decided maybe writing will help give me the peace so needed. My heart is burdened with former students whose lives are a mess. It's burdened with current students whose lives I'm about to enter who have so many battles within their little hearts and heads. I'm concerned about the future of not only these kids but of education as a whole. Where are we heading specifically? Technology has changed our world and to me, it's made it so darn scary even the good things about it. My two year old will graduate in 2026. What will education be like THEN? (Which, by the way, will be when I'm 60!)
Okay, so this whole use writing to gain peace thing isn't going to work tonight. I think I'll go count my new pens and pencils.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Bye, bye summer clothes....
I just put on my dress clothes since I'll be spending most of my day at a wedding. Shoes with the entire foot covered have now been placed on my feet. By the end of today, my feet will hurt and be rebelling against being covered. Mostly, though, I'm going to miss my sloven style that I adore. Huge, baggy clothes that are typically stained by my two year old and tshirts with holes starting from wearing them so much. I never have placed much value on my fashion, but it's probably because I've struggled with my weight for so long I pretty much feel I will always look like crap no matter what I wear. Yeah, I know. Self-esteem issues galore, but this area is the main one that has never left me since middle school. I have goals always, to lose weight so I can actually conquer this once and for all, but so far the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. And how I went from wearing shoes for the first time in awhile to this sorely sad and awkward topic, I will never know. My brain is quite random 99% of the time. Anyway, I will try to avoid getting boogers on my burgandy shirt and navy pants since I still have about 30 mins with my kids and dogs. Oh crap. Forgot about the dogs and the issues they bring with navy and burgandy.....
Family update: Say prayers for the Little Princess who started with boogers a week ago and then it got better and now it's worse again and I start school and can't miss the first day for sure, much less the first week. I guess I could if she was sick enough, but we're kind of in limbo stage of sick but not so sick yet sick enough. So, pray she just gets healed and we'll have answers then.
Family update: Say prayers for the Little Princess who started with boogers a week ago and then it got better and now it's worse again and I start school and can't miss the first day for sure, much less the first week. I guess I could if she was sick enough, but we're kind of in limbo stage of sick but not so sick yet sick enough. So, pray she just gets healed and we'll have answers then.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Cake Punk!
I never did talk about why I was so proud of the Big Princess last Sunday. So, figured since today pretty much held not a whole lot of anything but school prep, I'd touch on that.
The Big Princess has taken a huge interest in the show Cake Boss and any shows dealing with cake decorating, creating, and so on. Many times she's said maybe she'll grow up and be the artist for Cake Boss--you know, the ones who take the chocolate and mold it into figurines and so on. But for now, she makes cakes. She does these amazing things simply by looking at a picture and then putting it on a cake. All we know how to do is make star tips and dots and letters but we've not been trained except by my friend Jen who helped me survive the Little Princess's Elmo cake. So, these are what the Big Princess made Sunday. I baked the cakes and helped her get the first layer of frosting smooth, but from then on, all I did was color the frosting and she did it on her own. Pretty amazing, eh?
Thursday, August 12, 2010
T.I.R.E.D.
13 hours away from my kids + school meetings most of the day + picking up the girls simply to have Mataya scream her head off because she wanted to stay with her daycare lady instead of coming home with her mama = me.
And it's only just begun....
And it's only just begun....
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Hmmm....interesting
These are the things I learned today:
- When it's 100 degree heat index outside, the inside of your car is so hot that it can make the lid pop off a bottle of rubber cement.
- When it's 100 degree heat index outside, inside the car is so hot that half a bottle of water felt like a cup of hot coffee when touched.
- When it's 100 degree heat index outside, the inside of the car is so hot it can also blow the top off a mostly finished bottle of diet root beer which can then drain all over your car seat.
- When you try to put a contact into a plastic cleaner thing, you better do it quickly because when it gets a little dry, it will rip. And it doesn't matter that you just opened the new contact this morning.
- I also learned that my paneling isn't a simple pull off the wall type thing. It is tongue in groove (I think that's how you write it) which means removing it to check if my insulation is wet and moldy isn't going to be an easy task. However, the holes drilled in the bottom showed dry wood, so maybe I'll get lucky?
- Today I learned that I should have practiced getting up at 6:00 AM much earlier than today.....
Watching bug life
A few weeks ago a friend of mine who is a science teacher took us to get some caterpillars from a garden. She had been watching them make chrysalises and turn into butterflies and when I heard that, I wanted my girls to get that experience. So, off we went, braving mosquitoes and chickens, but coming home with seven caterpillars. One died (taps plays now). Herein documents our experiences with the bugs.
The caterpillars storing up food.
The first three chrysalises.
A late bloomer hanging on the side of the container.
All six chrysalises two days ago.
Our beautiful surprise when we got home tonight!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
And so it begins....
Tomorrow is B Day. No, not birthday. Not blonde day. Beginning Day. As a teacher, the actual New Year's Day doesn't really mean a whole lot to me except that I will be heading back to school soon and I need to get my papers together for taxes. However, B Day is kind of my New Year's Day.
Tomorrow will be the day I start my 20th year of teaching. Holy crapoli. 20 years. And every one of them was spent with 13 year olds in some aspect---either 13 going on 14 or 12 going on 13. This means that declaration of insanity is certainly within my realm and within my rights so there. Have I changed in those 20 years? Definitely. I'm cuter.
Tomorrow will be the day I will make resolutions. I will resolve to drink more water. I will resolve to be more patient. I will resolve to make school as fun as I can for me. Who cares about the kids? :o) And just as resolutions on Jan 1st, these may not make it very far, but I still like the exhilaration of trying.
Tomorrow will also be the day I get ideas. Okay, so maybe I've been getting ideas all summer, but tomorrow it will all seem real because everyone will be back at work and the building will be buzzing and I will be asked one hundred times if I had a good summer to which I will reply one hundred times, "Yes, but didn't it go fast?" To which they will reply, "Yes it did."
Tomorrow will be a great day. Compared to a year ago, life is amazing. I'm healthy (knock on wood someone!). I've got a sickly baby right now, but for the most part she is sleeping better (still sucky for a 2 year old, but BETTER and that is all I asked for) so I in turn, get more rest which is critical. I have a grasp on my curriculum this year, which I didn't last year. I even have ideas for new things and of course, I work with an amazing teacher and friend, Miss McBride who constantly inspires me and spurs on my ideas while sharing hers.
So, I probably could wear one of those "Life is Good" tshirts tomorrow and really mean it. But I'll probably wear a snarky one instead. Cheers to 2010! Happy New Year!
Tomorrow will be the day I start my 20th year of teaching. Holy crapoli. 20 years. And every one of them was spent with 13 year olds in some aspect---either 13 going on 14 or 12 going on 13. This means that declaration of insanity is certainly within my realm and within my rights so there. Have I changed in those 20 years? Definitely. I'm cuter.
Tomorrow will be the day I will make resolutions. I will resolve to drink more water. I will resolve to be more patient. I will resolve to make school as fun as I can for me. Who cares about the kids? :o) And just as resolutions on Jan 1st, these may not make it very far, but I still like the exhilaration of trying.
Tomorrow will also be the day I get ideas. Okay, so maybe I've been getting ideas all summer, but tomorrow it will all seem real because everyone will be back at work and the building will be buzzing and I will be asked one hundred times if I had a good summer to which I will reply one hundred times, "Yes, but didn't it go fast?" To which they will reply, "Yes it did."
Tomorrow will be a great day. Compared to a year ago, life is amazing. I'm healthy (knock on wood someone!). I've got a sickly baby right now, but for the most part she is sleeping better (still sucky for a 2 year old, but BETTER and that is all I asked for) so I in turn, get more rest which is critical. I have a grasp on my curriculum this year, which I didn't last year. I even have ideas for new things and of course, I work with an amazing teacher and friend, Miss McBride who constantly inspires me and spurs on my ideas while sharing hers.
So, I probably could wear one of those "Life is Good" tshirts tomorrow and really mean it. But I'll probably wear a snarky one instead. Cheers to 2010! Happy New Year!
My New Favorite Friend: The Shop Vac
It rained. No, it downpoured. No, the skies opened up and spewed its anger all over my area of town again. Need I say more?
Just a little background....in 2004 I lived in a small, quaint little house that Big Princess and I outgrew. So, I put it on the market and it sold within hours. THAT'S how cute it was. The house had its cuteness, but also its evil side with water in the basement being one of those. On Memorial Day weekend, after having sold the house and finding a new one I was going to purchase, we got what the weather men dubbed "100 year rain" which I video taped as the water rushed down the street and was high enough to touch the realty sign. Then I went downstairs where there was 9 inches of standing water, even though I had just spent $7000 out of my pocket to put in drain tile and sump pit and re-do concrete work, etc. With the help of friends, including my realtor and mortgage guy, we got it out within 24 hours, the sheet rock was able to be saved, but not the carpet and a few other things that were floating and in boxes. Note: if you store in cardboard, BUY BINS! The buyer walked through the house the day of the flooding with her boss, who happened to be the man in charge of some city department that actually dealt with drains and streets, and she stayed in the deal after he told her I had done everything I could and it was fluke deal.
Three weeks later that "100 year rain" came back. With a vengeance. Beyond belief. I watched and sobbed as the water was high enough to come in my back door and run down my steps, pour into my windows and the sump pump just couldn't keep up. This time 14 standing inches by the time it was done, walls ruined, washer ruined, and buyer backed out. I closed on my new house in two weeks. However, within two weeks, I had that place cleaned up and the walls repaired and repainted and so on. I do believe that is when my ulcers began now that I think about it. Anyway, it went back on the market. For another four months. Eventually, it sold and I moved into a house that was "water safe."
However, for the first year in my new house, every single time it rained, no matter how much or how hard, I would get anxiety attacks. My heart would race, I would sweat and the feeling of sobbing would come over me. I would always wake up and walk all around the house, checking every corner, nook and cranny (weird word that is) for any wetness and it literally took a year before I would sleep through the rain again in comfort knowing I was safe.
Fast forward to the summer of 2010. Must have been "100 years ago" that I had those floods because I swear we are having those rains again. And yes, the water has returned. There is no sump pit in this house (that's how safe it was) and the first time it came in, the carpet and pad had to go. The second time I caught it in time to stop it from going more than a foot away from the wall. And yes, folks, the anxiety attacks are back. At 4:20 this morning, I heard a thunderclap and the racing of the heart began. The Little Princess was restless due to a stuffy nose, so she was awake off and on, so I couldn't even sneak away to try to subside the fears suddenly overtaking me. At 5 AM, I finally got away from the octopus child and went into the basement to see my fears weren't just fears, but had become reality. The water was coming in again! The towels came out and my neighbor's large shop vac was started and for 50 minutes I vacuumed and sucked up that water, trying not to cry, wondering what is going to fix this mess. The good news is I do feel I located the problem as I looked at the window to see how the coverings were helping and saw it had filled! Appears the water is coming in there and running down the wall. Sigh. My only consolation, now that I've had the cardio workout for my heart with the anxiety attack, is that my neighbors get four inches in their basement and my other one got sewage so I will take my "Shop Vac Conquered Trickle" and be okay with it.
Just a little background....in 2004 I lived in a small, quaint little house that Big Princess and I outgrew. So, I put it on the market and it sold within hours. THAT'S how cute it was. The house had its cuteness, but also its evil side with water in the basement being one of those. On Memorial Day weekend, after having sold the house and finding a new one I was going to purchase, we got what the weather men dubbed "100 year rain" which I video taped as the water rushed down the street and was high enough to touch the realty sign. Then I went downstairs where there was 9 inches of standing water, even though I had just spent $7000 out of my pocket to put in drain tile and sump pit and re-do concrete work, etc. With the help of friends, including my realtor and mortgage guy, we got it out within 24 hours, the sheet rock was able to be saved, but not the carpet and a few other things that were floating and in boxes. Note: if you store in cardboard, BUY BINS! The buyer walked through the house the day of the flooding with her boss, who happened to be the man in charge of some city department that actually dealt with drains and streets, and she stayed in the deal after he told her I had done everything I could and it was fluke deal.
Three weeks later that "100 year rain" came back. With a vengeance. Beyond belief. I watched and sobbed as the water was high enough to come in my back door and run down my steps, pour into my windows and the sump pump just couldn't keep up. This time 14 standing inches by the time it was done, walls ruined, washer ruined, and buyer backed out. I closed on my new house in two weeks. However, within two weeks, I had that place cleaned up and the walls repaired and repainted and so on. I do believe that is when my ulcers began now that I think about it. Anyway, it went back on the market. For another four months. Eventually, it sold and I moved into a house that was "water safe."
However, for the first year in my new house, every single time it rained, no matter how much or how hard, I would get anxiety attacks. My heart would race, I would sweat and the feeling of sobbing would come over me. I would always wake up and walk all around the house, checking every corner, nook and cranny (weird word that is) for any wetness and it literally took a year before I would sleep through the rain again in comfort knowing I was safe.
Fast forward to the summer of 2010. Must have been "100 years ago" that I had those floods because I swear we are having those rains again. And yes, the water has returned. There is no sump pit in this house (that's how safe it was) and the first time it came in, the carpet and pad had to go. The second time I caught it in time to stop it from going more than a foot away from the wall. And yes, folks, the anxiety attacks are back. At 4:20 this morning, I heard a thunderclap and the racing of the heart began. The Little Princess was restless due to a stuffy nose, so she was awake off and on, so I couldn't even sneak away to try to subside the fears suddenly overtaking me. At 5 AM, I finally got away from the octopus child and went into the basement to see my fears weren't just fears, but had become reality. The water was coming in again! The towels came out and my neighbor's large shop vac was started and for 50 minutes I vacuumed and sucked up that water, trying not to cry, wondering what is going to fix this mess. The good news is I do feel I located the problem as I looked at the window to see how the coverings were helping and saw it had filled! Appears the water is coming in there and running down the wall. Sigh. My only consolation, now that I've had the cardio workout for my heart with the anxiety attack, is that my neighbors get four inches in their basement and my other one got sewage so I will take my "Shop Vac Conquered Trickle" and be okay with it.
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