Rambling With Bob

Um, remember my earlier post about being done with FaceBook? Well...okay, I farm. Two farms. On three separate accounts. Okay, so I got some issues!!!! The point is, it didn't work yesterday, so I had to go and harvest all the crops so they didn't wither. I did it while I cooked. Rationalizing-I'm a pro. I did do a lot today. Got Baby's food, got pipe cleaners to make cocoons with when we do The Very Hungry Caterpillar, got some markers for a writing center in our class, got a couple things to start Honey's Easter basket with (hey, you're never too old to appreciate an Easter basket!) and saw a few things that gave me ideas for my secret pal. We do secret pals at the Center. It's fun trying to figure out who has each others names, though I don't really want to know who has mine-I like the surprise. I might have to run around on my lunch break tomorrow...or write an IOU. Hmmm, what else? Cooked. I know I already mentioned that but my list of accomplishments for the evening is looking kind of pitiful...

In my defense, I did get home really late (after 8pm) and that throws me off...right now, I'm sleepy and stupid. I need to scoop Baby's litter box. I need some Pepsi. I need about 10 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Thank God for spell check and red squiggly lines or this would be a mess.

Tomorrow, it won't matter how sleepy or tired I am. It's our Easter party. We will hide and hunt eggs. Dye eggs. Eats lots of sweets. I expect the day to be pretty insane and that will effectively hide my exhaustion. My stupidity will seem like silliness to the kids. See? Where else can you masquerade like that? And hopefully, many of them have out of town plans and will leave early...

It did just occur to me that if I made it to bed really quick, I might be able to get up early enough to go find something for my secret pal...but only one place would be open. Dang!

K. My brain won't go any further. I think I'm rambling. Where's Bob Seager? Good night!

What?

Why is it you can be going along, having a pretty good day, and someone just has to ruin it?

Not going to analyze it, stress it, or try to fix it. I'm sleepy. I'm going to bed. After all, tomorrow is another day...

Happy Shopping

I have never really been a necklace kind of girl, but I have to tell you. I found this blog (by clicking on Next Blog, as I am want to do…) posted by this wonderful lady who lives in Australia and guess what? She makes the most amazing jewelry! I want to buy nearly every piece she has, for myself and my friends! I am so thankful for Honey-he doesn’t blink an eye when I tell him I want to buy a custom (yes, custom!) piece of jewelry. I am so excited I can’t stand myself!!!!! Dang!!! I still might become a girly-girl. Yikes! If anyone out there reads this and is interested, the sight is: http://www.etsy.com/shop/vaniasartshop.

The Tides of March

Wow, what a strange day. Lazy morning followed by hurried house cleaning. Lovely, soft gray rain followed by wicked storm with hail. Quiet solitude followed by laughing company...rather like the month of March. Makes me kind of look forward to April...good night!

Legacies: Can I Get A Refund?

So last night I was doing some research about headaches. I began my search on this wonderful website called: www.medlineplus.gov. It’s waaaaaay better than webmd. This place has federal and medical documents submitted by doctors, as well as articles published in medical journals. Check it out sometime.

Anyway, I looked up several ingredients from things like Propel and what not. Turns out that there was nothing in any of them to cause the poundings I’ve been getting lately. I continued my search and found a wonderful breakdown of all kinds of headaches, their symptoms, triggers, as well as some warning signs that one is about to occur. Wow. Was it ever informative. Every blood relative that I have has headaches, usually migraines. This turns out to be a giant factor in whether or not one will suffer from headaches. Thanks, guys. And the strange food cravings I’ve had lately, too, are classic indicators of oncoming pain.

The special headache I’ve had the past few days, well guess what? It’s common beginning at the age of 45. I just turned that a few months ago! Ah! What’s the deal with that?!!

A little girl in my classroom has had very strange stuff going on and the doctors can’t find anything wrong. Turns out, according to the information I found, children get abdominal migraines!!! Who ever heard of that? It causes nausea and vomiting, as well as excruciating pain. Spot on for how she was acting. It also usually means they will suffer headaches later in life. Sorry Baby Girl.

In case anyone reads this, and they happen to suffer from headaches like I do, here is the link: http://www.ninds.nih.gov/disorders/headache/detail_headache.htm

I hope it helps.

I Didn't Do It!!!

If my goal for Saturday was to be completely, totally, and uncompromisingly unproductive, then I succeeded. The monkey on my head that has been stabbing me with a knife for the last several days seems to be getting tired. He has been rather quiet, thankfully, only remembering what he's supposed to be doing every once in a while.

Though it's no excuse, it doesn't help that Honey is working all kinds of days and hours lately. It doesn't take much to throw off my schedule and routines...

Tomorrow I will do better. Rather, later today...

Busy Busy Me

Friday, glorious Friday! Actually it wasn’t a bad week, just a long, very busy one. And next week will be even busier, but we only have to work for four days. Woohoo! I got to get geared up for a busy weekend. So, on that note, I’m going to sign off, take a hot shower, grab a bite to eat, and listen to my Zune till bedtime. What?!! It helps me relax for tomorrow….(hee).

Slow Down!!!

Man, I need a week long nap. This year is flying by. We no sooner get through one holiday or event, and before we can turn around, another is upon us! Did someone put the world on fast forward? Maybe pressed skip too many times? We are still working on the “spring” related things in our class and now we have to begin Easter stuff. Aaarrrggg! At least tonight’s Classroom meeting went really well. At our Center, each classroom is required to host 4 Classroom meetings. Open House counts as one and we have to come up with ideas for the other 3. Tonight, our local Educational Consultant helped us host a nutritious food/snack event. Parents came with their child and we learned how to make some really cool snacks that also incorporated a lot of skills: fine motor, counting, sorting, color recognition, following directions, sequencing, etc. It was really cool for obvious reasons (we got to eat the goodies we made) but it was neat because parents got a chance to see how we, as teachers, incorporate learning with play. The turnout was fantastic. Each parent that signed up came, even the family that isn’t in our room yet. We were very pleased with the whole thing.

Now, we have to get ready for Easter. At least we have some really fun science/snack activities we can use in our lesson plan for next week…

Surfaces

While I was considering what to blog about tonight, I remembered a conversation Co-Teacher and I had earlier today. Then I started thinking about a U2 song, Even Better Than The Real Thing. There’s a line in the song that goes “…we’ll slide down the surface of things…” Funny thing, surfaces. They can be pretty, shiny, expensive, scarred, broken, chipped, burned, cracked, you get the picture. I wonder what I would find if I could pull off the surfaces and look underneath. The underneath, the hidden, secret things hidden from public view-this was the crux of our earlier conversation.

We are both survivors; myself, often against my will, or in spite of it. We decided that many people, if we could look beneath or behind their surfaces, would have stories similar to ours.

I learned a long time ago to suck it up and screw it in place; never let anyone see you cry if you can help it (it really ticks me off that I cry when I get really angry). Unless you’re a “safe” person for me, you will never know when I am sick, hurting (physically, emotionally, or any other kind of way), angry, or in any way bothered. I will always seem happy and well adjusted. You won’t see the bleeding wounds or festering sores that comprise much of my psyche, my soul. Yes, I’m saved; yes, I believe in God and that He heals and forgives. But it is a process, sometimes a very long one. I’m digressing-this could go into several different tangents and I can easily derail my thought train…where was I going with this?

Oh yeah, surfaces. You can watch HGTV and see how stagers will cover a counter that has lots of flaws with a shiny new piece of granite (or granite like) counter top. Scuffed or out of date flooring is covered with snap together wood or peel and stick tile. Cracked walls can be puttied and painted. Even dead grass can be painted green! The new home-buyer may or may not ever know what is under their pretty work top, wall, floor, or lawn, but it’s still there. Will it one day cause a problem? Will the home-buyer be surprised at what they find hidden underneath? Will it become a deal breaker? Will they be angry and immediately put the home on the market, making sure to re-cover the flaws they’ve found?

Or will they think about it? Will they see the firmness of the foundation? Will they see the character in the design? Will they see the potential beyond the flaws? Will they remember the feeling that brought them to the house in the first place? Will they be able to go beyond the surface of things and repair the brokenness of their dwelling? Will they place value and worth on imperfection? Will they be able to find happiness and satisfaction in spite of all these things? Even if others judge them harshly?

These are things we must ask of ourselves. We are broken, flawed, marred by the past that shaped us. For better or worse, we are products of our environments. We must choose, for ourselves, by ourselves, whether we want to remain broken and in ruins. True, some things may never be repaired or healed, but most things can at least be “brought up to code”. By that I mean, learning to accept certain aspects of the reality that surrounds us. We can’t replace or relive our childhood. But we may learn to view it in different ways. I have learned to try to remember that Grandmother, though she may have made life hell for us, is one of the reasons I have such compassion for others. The violations I endured have caused me to be protective and fierce toward the babies in my care, as well as my friends and family. The broken places that continue to bleed inside me remind me to consider that others, people who make me angry or frustrated, my have the same things going on inside them.

I read something in another blog recently. I can’t remember it word for word but the gist was that our power lies in our wounds. That’s really deep and profound, folks. Think about it for a while.

It’s not our pretty, shiny, impressive surfaces that make us who we are. It’s the hidden underside, and how we regard it.

If you choose to consider any of this, one word of caution: every day, sometimes every hour is a battle. If you choose to find power in your brokenness, be assured that the enemy of your soul will send as much doubt and defeat your way as possible. Make a conscious decision to stand your ground and turn a deaf ear to the voices that would cause you to doubt the new vision you have hidden within yourself. And remember, the most powerful naysayer is probably your own…

Small Things

If there is one quote that gets repeated about a thousand gajillion times, it’s “it’s the little things…”. Well, it really is the little things.

Today, two boys in my class actually told me they had to poop BEFORE they did it in their pants. AND, they made it to the bathroom without any slippage. Wow. It might seem like a small achievement in the grand scheme of things, but let me tell you, those boys were proud. So of course, I had to alert all the available teachers and Director and Assistant. Much shouting, clapping, and high-fiving ensued, as did the administering of stickers and hand-drawn smiley tattoos on the backs of hands. Poop that makes it to the potty is a BIG deal.

A little girl in my class will one day, no doubt, be a famous artist. I have several pieces stowed away, (gifts, mind you, freely given) for the day when her art becomes astronomically expensive. Then, I intend to pull out those little marker scribblings and auction them off. Maybe that trip to Europe I’ve always wanted will finally happen…when we marvel over her renderings, she just beams. She really is fantastic for her age. And, she gives me one everyday. Just because.

Co-Teacher brought lunch today-delicious homemade spaghetti. Like the little old lady in the Bible, she gave out of her little and created much. Also, Co-Teacher will always listen with empathy, even when she is barely holding it together. Just offering her ear…it’s not necessarily much, but it’s everything.

Assistant gives hugs for no apparent reason. It reminds my inner self that the Great Lie still exists, but that it’s a lie.

Director tells wonderful stories about her family experiences and for a few moments, I can feel the glow off them as if I had been a part of a family that actually cared about each other.

Former Co-Teacher, while dropping her daughter off and then heading to Hospital for a Procedure, brought a small container of a dish I can’t cook. Aaawww, how much more thoughtful can you get?

Husband always, ALWAYS asks how my day is going or went. And he really wants to know and he listens.

Today, I was sad for a little bit. Today, it felt like a load of bricks landed on the back of my head and the pain was almost more than I could bear. Today, Co-Teacher had to fill in for absent teachers, leaving me alone with a class full of Spring Fever Sufferers. (Yes, children really do get spring fever-just hide out in any classroom and watch.) Today, bunches of small things saved me from myself, circumstances, and The Great Lie.

Never dismiss the little things. They could be saving you.

Suffer the Children

I just don’t understand. I don’t have children of my own but my little brother was practically mine and my nephew was, too. In fact, he will tell you I’m his mom. My point is, what are parents thinking sometimes? For example, there are parents who have this wonderful opportunity to spend time with their children, and they have the means, yet they choose not to. It’s not like they would have to miss work or anything. The opportunity is simply there, whether they take it or not. And usually, it’s not. Then there are other parents who treat their children like a science experiment. Bizarre restrictions on locations of various things and when the child is allowed to speak and oh my gosh, it gets really weird. Aren’t there enough weird people in the world?

Then consider the parents who make excuses for everything their child does, including trying to inflict bodily harm on them, with weapons! Oh, Johnny is just having a bad day. Are you going to say that when he actually stabs/shoots you? After all, he knows where the gun is…? Come on, get a clue!

On the opposite end of the spectrum are the parents who push their children to achieve. Trying to instill some ambition, a sense of pride in work well done, motivating them to try their best is a good thing. But when you hound a very small child, very small, to be the best all the time, to be number one, to do better than everyone else all the time every single day, well….that child is eventually going to explode from all the pressure. They have goals, not of their own choosing, set before them and, in all reality, they are not going to be able to meet them all the time. And failure is apparently not tolerated. Pushing a child to do something that is beyond their capability, for their age, maturity, whatever, is going to backfire and unfortunately, the child is going to be the one to suffer. They’re never going to be good enough and sadly, they will grow up believing that they are the ones setting the measurements for supposed success. They will blame themselves and be eaten up from the inside out with guilt, self hatred, and anger.

Children are gifts, not experiments. They are to be cherished, led, protected, and encouraged. They need boundaries and structure. They need role models who succeed and fail. They need to be allowed to fall down so they can learn how to get up. It benefits them nothing to have everything done for them. Nor do they gain from pressure to perform at impossible and unrealistic levels.

Allow them to fall, get dirty, cry and be children. One day, you may look back and wonder how the hell the person screaming uncontrollably, rotting in jail, lying in a morgue, on the six o clock news, or, perhaps worse, walking around empty inside-replaced your beautiful little baby that you had such high hopes for. Have high hopes. Allow for their hopes, too. Most importantly, show them that you love them simply because of who they are.

Miles and Miles....

Wow, it’s getting late and I still have a lot to do. Facebook-is it good or bad? For a person with an addictive personality, it depends. But I did get to chat with people and have fun. Got caught up with Sister in Law and her whole new little family. The doggies are being good to Baby Niece. And Brother is being very helpful to New Mommy. You go, Brother! Today was mostly about getting a huge chunk of Spring Cleaning done. Change out winter bedding: check. Wash spring and summer clothing: check. Pack away most of winter clothing: check. Move furniture and vacuum: check. Pick up bits and bobs vacuum won’t reach: check. Including a dried up, dead stink bug: check (add some really girlie squealing and moaning). Sweep and polish the wood floors in hallway: check. Clean off hall coat/storage bench: check. Round up all the dust bunnies: check. General, everyday cleaning: check, with the exception of dining and living room (still need to dust and vacuum). Cook a big Sunday dinner: check, with Honey’s help. Comfortably stuffed: check. All in all, not too bad a day. And on top of all that, since Thursday, I have only had one soda a day. Today, I have only had part of one…wow! Still, much to do. Was it Robert Frost who said, “Miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep…”?

Oops!!

AAArrrrgggg!!! I missed a day! Probably doesn't seem like a big deal, but I am really trying to stay disciplined. Dang it! Well, this one will be brief because I haven't been awake very long and I don't know what I want to write about. But yesterday was a pretty good day and the week ended much better than it started. Honey is home today, not enough work for everyone. Sometimes that happens. It's okay, though, he needs a lazy day since he works two jobs. For me, I've just been "farming" and thinking about all the things I need to do....*sigh*...

*YAWN!*

Very sleepy. Long week but with good ending. Will blog tomorrow when I can think straight. Good night!

Moments

There are moments…moments that cause you to take a sharp indrawn breath, your heart to skip a beat, and your internal camera takes a quick snapshot that stays with you forever. Those are moments that you end up cherishing, reliving, and trying to recreate.

Moments like that, you would think, cannot be contrived. True. But they can be nudged, especially when children are involved.

Two years ago I had a child in my class who had a hard time being still. He was always fidgeting, talking, touching, yelling, etc. But he was a very smart child. We studied Mexico for the May 5 holiday. I taught him how to find Mexico on a globe. (Remember, at this time, he was only 2.) After a few days, several of the children got it, including Jumpy. One afternoon, Jumpy’s mom came early to pick him up. Knowing that she sometimes had a difficult time with him and probably felt overwhelmed, I asked Jumpy to show his mom where Mexico was on the globe. With shy confidence, he marched to the globe, and without any hesitation, put his little finger on Mexico. He looked at me to see if he had gotten it right and I nodded. The look of pride on his little face was beyond words. He looked at his mom, to see if she was proud of him. Her face lit up and she smiled with pride. I knelt down and hugged him, telling him how proud we were and how smart he was. I hoped this encouraged mom a little and the look he had on his little face when he knew he had gotten it right was unforgettable.

This morning, a similar scenario. We have been studying Ireland. We live in America. Get in a boat, sail across the ocean, and arrive in Ireland. One of my smaller 3 year olds came in. I chatted with mom for a while, then she was about to go. Little Bit was getting toys off the shelf to play with before breakfast and I had an idea. I asked mom to wait a second and asked Little Bit to show her where Ireland was on the globe. He first showed us where we live (America), then we sailed across the ocean, and landed in Ireland. His mom’s eyes popped and she asked if he had gotten it right. I said yes. The look on her face was as good as the looks the children get. She was so proud of him, and surprised. Ireland is a tiny place on the globe, after all.

There are also moments that have nothing to do with teacher input. Three years ago, a little boy was playing with Co-Teacher’s valentine bear. It lit up from the inside. When the little boy touched it and it lit up a soft red color, his eyes got really wide, his mouth opened, he drew in a sharp breath and held it….

…and that’s what I’m talking about.

.....green pee? Yep.

Gosh, it’s only Wednesday, and this week has so much more in it. I need to sleep for about a week…Monday-Hot Dog Sale, Tuesday-house shopping, tummy bug, Wednesday-hair appointment that takes a while, Thursday-meeting after work, Friday-errands and Husband going out of town. And all of that is just extra piled on top of the chaos that ensues anytime there is a holiday at the Center.

As for the holiday, it was a pretty smashing success. The leprechauns totally trashed the Center, leaving green footprints on tables and, apparently afterward, they needed to potty-green “pee” was found in all the toilets. This begs the questions: why do they pee green and why don’t they use tp or flush afterward? It didn’t matter. The kids LOST THEIR MINDS!!! Screams and yells and laughter could be heard in the long hallway that goes between the main building and the lunchroom. The rest of the day was pretty much written off ‘cuz no one could expect good behavior after all of that. Still, it wasn’t too bad. My kids went hunting for leprechaun candy and finally found some. It was a brilliant moment. The little boy, when he first spied the basket of goodies, looked, looked again, hesitated, looked at me and Co-Teacher, and then, quietly pointed at it and said Teacher, I think that’s some over there! After that, the rest of them got clued in and the screaming and yelling began all over again. The wonder was there, on each of their faces. Real magic happened today. Even the sweet shy guy was giddy about everything. When his dad came to pick him up, he didn’t talk about falling down or dinosaurs. It was all leprechauns, candy, trashed rooms and green pee.

Mission Accomplished

Magically Delicious

Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day. I really hope it goes well. It’s my favorite holiday with children, better than Christmas. Not that I mean to take anything at all away from Jesus or Christmas or anything. It’s just…well, March 17th is one last opportunity to inspire magical thinking in little minds. When I was little, you know, about a hundred years ago, we didn’t have video games, computers, cell phones, etc. And we were pretty poor. Our toys were few, but cherished. Our imaginations were our greatest assets. We made whole worlds of make believe places and people and situations. Children don’t really do that today. So this week, we have talked about Ireland, the land of castles, oceans, mountains (and mountain goats), fishing boats, and, best of all, leprechauns. They can see Ireland on a globe. They can see pictures of its landscape, ruined castles, boats and goats in my special picture book (love Barnes and Noble!!!). They understand Ireland is real. All I’ve had to do is throw in a little bit of leprechaun tales here and there…and the next thing you know, we are all outside looking for possible “hidey-holes” the little folks might use to hide candy or gold in while they’re out playing tricks on children. The kids (kind of) believe that tomorrow, if we are very sneaky, we might find real leprechaun candy. They also hope to catch one so they can get his gold.

Children today, for various reasons, don’t get exposed to much make believe play. Games are laid out for them, and so are many of the toys they play with (movie based). I relish this holiday because it’s a chance to involve them in their own fairy tale. The leprechauns showed up today and trashed our room. The children were comically outraged. The culprits (Director and Assistant) and I hid our laughter behind our hands, listening to the children come up with all sorts of theories as to the how, when, and why the little folks did what they did, and how to get them back. Of course the best revenge, I assured them, was to play their game and get the candy. That means going along with the cleaning, and possible re-cleaning, so the leprechauns would see they were being good sports. The next time, I told them, while the leprechauns are trashing our room, we will be finding and eating all their candy. A loud cheer went up. The kids were invested now in the play-along.

This is also the first time I’ve had this age group for this holiday. Since they’re almost four, I’ve had to create a whole hierarchy of elves and leprechauns. For instance, elves and leprechauns are cousins. Leprechauns are cousins to the elves from the Shoemaker story, as well as Santa’s workers. There are also very famous elves-Keebler and Rice Krispies. And a very famous person they didn’t realize was a leprechaun-The Lucky Charms dude. All these things, especially Lucky and Santa’s helpers, have lent credence to the story. Hopefully, it will be enough to make tomorrow a magical day for them. The magic will happen for me when I watch their faces and listen to their chatter…if you’ve ever seen genuine wonder on a child’s face, you’ll know why I want to create opportunities that might make it happen just one more time….

Random. I Went There.

I’m sitting here wondering what I should write about today. Since I can’t decide on just one thing, I’m going random…

For starters, it’s been a wild and crazy day in a mostly good sense. Spring cleaning has gotten into my blood and I’ve been making progress all over the place, even at work in my room. Wow! We are also getting ready for our Center’s 30th anniversary celebration and I still have a few things I need to do towards that tonight… Also, regarding the celebration, we are having various fundraisers to raise money to pay for everything and tonight we had a take out hot dog dinner. Oh My Gosh was it ever successful!!! Thank You Lord!!!

Since this week includes St. Patrick’s Day, we always talk about leprechauns and Ireland. The kids, by the end of the day, could find America on the globe, get in a boat and sail across the ocean, and find Ireland. Cool, huh? Ireland, as you may know, is where the leprechauns live. They don’t need boats to get around in- they ride the rainbow! The best thing about this holiday is that the “real” leprechauns tend to show up in our classrooms while we are away and simply “trash” the place. Toys are strewn all over, chairs turned over, things misplaced…it’s so funny to see the outrage on the kids’ little faces! Even better is watching them hurry and put everything back in its proper place-ironic since otherwise they often have to be told over and over when it’s clean up time!

What else…went to Kohl’s on my lunch hour and found a coverlet to match the new drapes in the bedroom; I don’t know yet if it will fit…but let me tell you! Typically, when you go shopping anymore, do you get cashiers who could care less about being even a tiny bit friendly? I used to be one and I know it gets tiring, but dang! I’ve had them talking on cell phones, talking about really personal stuff with other employees, trashing other employees, giving big heavy sighs when I put my things on the counter/ belt/whatever-you get the picture. Well, today-I had the best experience. The lady was friendly, funny, helpful…all it takes is a smile. Come on people, this is your job! I know it’s hard to maintain when your feet hurt or your head hurts or you’re tired or sad or stressed. I have to greet parents every day with a smile, even when I would rather be crying or sleeping or lying in a dark, quiet room with a migraine…but I need my job (I’m very thankful for it) and I’m sure you do, too. Where is the professionalism? Greet the customer, ask how they are. Chances are, they will return the question. If you’re having hard or bad day, make a joke about it. You would be surprised how many will offer a kind word or a silent prayer. And trashing someone while a stranger is able to hear, well, it’s just rude, unprofessional, and really makes you look bad.

Wow. I didn’t know that’s where I was going, but there I went.

GreatTutors_Singapore says:

Photo courtesy of:

The Hair Cutter

Today, I actually was pretty constructive. Last week I didn’t do any housework at all. Honey washed dishes and clothes; he also scooped Baby’s litter box. Ain’t he sweet? So today, I’ve tried to make up for lost time. It is unbelievable what can accumulate in just ten days! You’d think a house full of frat boys lived here! For the most part the whole house is clean. There are still items that have to be sorted and stored, some from the move, others because they’re the last of the winter décor (snowmen). I wish the house fairies would show up and finish it all for me…

By the way, someone needs to invent a vacuum cleaner that can deal with long hair. I wasted nearly twenty minuets cutting hair out of the brushes. There you go-a free idea for a motivated entrepreneur. Just be sure to send me one, free of course.

The Magic of Rain

I tell people it’s the Irish in me. I just love rainy, cloudy, gray days. They’re soft and gentle. They smell good. They make the colors everywhere more intense: the greens are deeper and richer; the browns of the trees and the soil are almost black, providing wonderful contrast to all the other colors…there’s a clean, shiny feeling, much like when snow is fresh on the ground. A pale slate kind of gray is a really beautiful backdrop for all the myriad things that make up the world around us. Colors either blend in a soft, pretty kind of way, or they pop, creating a pleasing contrast. Rain seems to take the edges off the corners of my day, cushioning me, drowning out the noise (internal as well as external) that constantly bombards me. Rain makes me calm; it’s peaceful; it soothes my soul. (I’m not talking about the angry, harsh downpours-just the soft showery kind.) Ever wonder why people say they like the sound of rain on the roof? Why they say it makes them sleep well? Rain speaks to our inner child. Babies and children sleep better when there is some sort of white noise, a steady thrum, audible, but in the background. It is said it reminds them of their mothers’ heartbeat, heard in the womb.

Music soothes the savage beast. I believe it. Rain eases the weary spirit of our inner child. I know it.

The Giver

Once upon a time there was this little boy. A sweet, funny, brilliant child who loved dinosaurs and chess. Mind you, he was very young, this child, when I knew him. Before we became friends, he didn’t have many. Friends, that is. In fact, he didn’t have any. You see, he liked his space in a very intense way. Touch bothered him. Accidental bumping threw him into fits. Hugs were out of the question. Then, he came to me. And he made a little friend who was gentle and kind. The sweet little boy would watch his new friend, absorb the way he interacted, laughed, played, and hugged his teacher. Slowly, the sweet little boy came out of his protective shell. He laughed. He played. Accidental bumping no longer bothered him. It didn’t bother his friend, so it must be okay. The sweet little boy gained confidence and began interacting with other little ones. He even learned to accept their attention. Being noticed didn’t bother him anymore. He learned to speak up for himself. He learned that going to time out was normal.

But the sweet little boy told himself a lie. He told himself that if he did things wrong, or if he had an accident, or even if he went to time out, his teacher would be sad. His teacher, upon learning of this terrible lie, went to the sweet little boy. Kneeling down, she whispered to him that she would love him if he built really cool towers. She would love him if he walked in a line. She would love him if he was nice to his friends. She would love him if he fell down. She would love him if he went to time out. She would love him if he pee peed in his pants. She would love him if he forgot to put poop in the potty. She whispered to him that, no matter what, she would love him. For always. And she promised.

The sweet little boy, with very bright eyes, looked at her with such solemn wonder and joy. He so very carefully put his little arms around her and told her that he loved her. And then he looked at her again, with a very serious expression…and his teacher knew that the sweet little boy had processed what she had said and that now, he understood and accepted that love with great gravity.

On that dark and horrid day, the sweet little boy had given his weary teacher a sparklie she would cherish forever.

EFFING BLEEP!!!!!!

You know how you have those days....it's been a really rough few months. Since about last September, I feel like I've been on an emotional grater and I'm just now healing up a little bit from all the rawness. And that's just with the whole drug dealing/drummer boy/got to get away from these people before someone dies situation. The process of all that, finding a house and dealing with an obnoxious seller nearly did me in. Even with all that going on, you got to work, maintain your marriage and other relationships, etc. Life doesn't ease up just because you're coming apart at the seams. Nope. No Sirree. But gradually, things level out. I thought. I know that there are gravelly places that I'm gonna get scraped on. But dang! When it's been one thing right after another, and a crappy few weeks in a row, and all I want is a simple straight forward answer, don't go all vague on me. And the one person you expect to be just a tiny bit understanding is the one who slaps you down. They give you mickey mouse answers and then get mad at you when you try to figure out what they are saying or not saying (you don't really know because they are not being at all clear!!!!!!). Damn it all to hell! I just want a simple answer! I just want one piece, one tiny little piece of this day to be simple, uncomplicated, and without gravel. Is that too much to ask?

...in the news

Baby Niece got to come home today! Yay! You go, Girl! Not a bad day. Back feels much better. Honey is taking my car to get oiled and checked out. Driving the Tank tomorrow...pray. Honey also fixed toilet thingy in the back...told ya he could fix all kinds of stuff. Got a new lap desk. More comfy and more stable. Best Buy exchanged our printer for a new one. ALWAYS get the extended warranty on anything over $100. It pays off. Now, I just need to get rid of this sinus mess...

Don't Whistle Dixie

Hopefully, this will be the last entry in the whole “back” saga. Went to work today and it went much better than I expected. Even now, after doing a load of laundry and putting away a load, my back feels really pretty good. Thank You God! As Tuesdays go, this one has been strangely nice. Chatted with Nephew, work went well, and Baby Niece may come home tomorrow. Wow! And on top of all that, Dr. Who is on. The day has one flaw, though. Stuffy as all get out. Nose shouldn’t whistle. Just ain’t right. Anyway…

Back, Again

I stayed home from work today to let my back heal a little bit more. It actually didn’t feel too bad for a long while. Now, it’s feeling a bit dodgy. I’ve tried to keep somewhat active, by which I mean I walk around, sit in different places, and pick up this or that, with rest breaks in between. Dr. Oz recommends staying as active as possible to help the injury heal. I’ve taken his advice. I am going to try to work tomorrow. The muscle relaxers I have taken are very mild and I think I can take one and still be able to work. They have immensely helped my back to loosen up.

This isn’t a witty or very creative entry, but I am sticking with the program. Honey is on the way home with dinner. Have I mentioned that he’s the BEST?

A Hunting I Will Go...

In the immortal words of Milli Vanilli, I got to blame it on someone. So I blame the stupid Gremlins! (I’m just writing mainly because I promised myself that I would do this every single day to learn discipline…). Earlier in the week, I injured my back. Actually, I simply re-injured an old injury. Over the course of the last few days, it has steadily gotten worse. Today, I can barely walk. It is beginning to feel like the first time. Not in a Foreigner kind of way, either. The first time put me in the bed for two weeks. I really dread calling my Director. Not that she’s Cruella or anything. It’s just that it seems anytime I call in, so do about six other people. Ah well. I have all the blinds open. I hope later to find melted carcasses all over the place. It will be well worth all the cleaning up if I can once and for all put an end to these little buggers. The one with his little claws in my back I hope dies an especially slow and painful death. It may become my mission in life to the first ever professional Gremlin Hunter. Maybe I can get my own TV show…

Trying

I’m really trying to become a disciplined writer; for me, that simply means writing everyday. Even when I don’t feel like it or I don’t have much to say. There are lots of things I could say that would make Mother upset. She taught me that if you didn’t have something nice to say, shut up. So I’ve been practicing shutting up a lot the past few days. Some nice things I can say:

1- Honey washed my car for me. Thanks, Honey!
2- Honey got cold meds for me. Thanks again, Honey!
3- My new niece is off her support machinery and holding her own, doing really well. Way to go, Baby Girl!
4- Honey picked up Bedroom Draperies and, while he was at it, got other set for my office. Thanks, Honey!
5- Migraine is gone. Praise God!
6- Beautiful day out today.
7- Excedrin
8- DayQuil
9- Cherry Pepsi
10- Electric Blankets
11- Kleenex
12- Memory Foam Mattress Topper
13- Pillow
14- Kitty
15- Honey

K. I’m all outta nice now. Gonna take my stuffy headed, back aching, upset tummy feeling self to bed. Or maybe the couch for TV. Or maybe a really hot shower and bed. Yep, That sounds good.

Yep

It's the end of the week. It's over. Enough said.

Freakin Jammies

Tomorrow is the last day of Dr. Seuss week at the Center. And, it’s pajama day. Where else in the world can you go to work in your jammies? The children will all be crazy because one: they’re in their jammies, and two: it’s out of routine. One could ask why, with everything else we get to deal with on a daily basis, would we add to the mayhem? Cuz it’s a freakin blast!

I began working at the Center one July a few years ago. I was brandy new. I didn’t know parents, grandparents, staff, or even the kids’ names. My co-teacher, (the first one) who was VERY pregnant at the time, put masking tape on the backs of their shirts the first day with their names written on it. That little trick was actually a great help and has been used since then. Did I mention my co-teacher was very pregnant? Well, her pregnancy was eventful, to say the least. One day, she left early. It was in September. It was Grandparent’s Day. We were supposed to perform some little thing during snack (our lunchroom has a stage in it-lucky us!). Our plan was to read the Napping House and at the end, go kind of crazy. (You should read the book, it’s neat). Because the story is about everyone taking a nap…you guessed it. We wore jammies. (This was my very first time doing so, by the way). The children, as you might imagine, were a bit rambunctious. So, it’s snack time. I am alone. The children are rowdy. They’re only 2 years old. The person who said they would come and help me never showed up. OMG. I have 14 two year olds, herding them onto the stage (no easy feat, mind you) to read a story. The lunchroom is PACKED with grandparents. Did I mention I only started there in July? That I was brandy new? The children, upon spying their relatives in the audience, proceeded to scramble off the stage and run to them. Every. Last. One. Of. Them. What a disaster. I was so stressed I thought I would pass out. I was so embarrassed. Devastated. Everyone was laughing! Aaarrrggg!!!

Know what? They weren’t laughing at me. They were laughing because it was freakin hilarious! And that’s when I learned to simply go with the chaos and enjoy the ride. Good thing, too because I couldn’t begin to tell you how many times those kinds of things have happened since then. Children are like the weather-you can predict, given particular sets of circumstances, what their behavior will be like. But don’t always bank on it. They know how to live in the moment and, if you let them, they’ll take you with them on some pretty cool rides.

So, tomorrow I get to go to work in jammies. Truth be known, work is the only reason I buy jammies (I prefer t-shirts and shorts). The children will swing from the rafters and bounce off the walls and scream like lunatics. But that’s okay. Their teachers know that it’s the perfect opportunity to do some screaming and bouncing and swinging of their own. And the children think we’re a freakin blast!

Sparklies

Okay, something you should know about me is that words and music are everything. Movies, books, and songs have words or phrases that connect on a deep, primal level with something I’m feeling or thinking or have experienced. Music is the magic that transports me to…anywhere. Though some of the things that stick out or are memorable may seem silly, believe me, they relate. For example: sparklies.

Did you ever see the Secret of NIMH movie? It was based on a book, Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH. Both are pretty great, but, as always, the book is better. Anyway, Dom DeLuise did the voice of a crow who wants a “sparklie” to give his new lady friend. That word (unsure about spelling, so…) has stayed with me since I first saw the movie back in 1982 or 83. I have found that sparklies, in whatever form they’re found, attract attention from pretty much anyone.

Birds love sparklies. So do cats and dogs. Children love them, as well as adults (usually round, mounted on a gold hoop that fits just so on a finger…). Quite often, I use the sparklie card to help children transition away from parents in the mornings: look at my new earrings, so and so has a shirt with sparklies, look at the scarf Jane has with sparklie threads in it…it really works, even with the boys (girls like the sparklies themselves, boys like the opportunity to sit on your lap).

Today, my co-teacher and I were having a deep, very personal conversation during naptime. We were sharing about the crap that had filled up our childhoods. We are both survivors of all sorts of neglect and abuse. We have suffered greatly as adults, sometimes resulting from our own stupidity, sometimes simply because of someone else’s cruelty/insecurities/selfishness…sometimes because that’s just how things work out. We have scars, but not the kind you can see. We are damaged, but we hide it well. We are often quite lost, but we act as if we know where we are going. We have spent years upon years mastering the masquerade. But today, we pulled off the masks, briefly. When you pull off a mask and let someone peer at your brokenness, you can feel their gaze and it hurts. It hurts to squeeze out the infection caused by still festering sores, but it is necessary from time to time. Otherwise, infection will eventually kill you, even if you don’t die. Is there a point to all this? Why yes, there is.

Even though my life was a cesspool of abuse, neglect, broken and shattered emotions, damaged psyche, even though I was taught that I was less than human, there have always been sparklies shining through the rotting mass that is my past.

My mom, before she was taken from me (long story-I was very small when this happened…) used to read to us. Oh, how I loved the words on pages, the things they spoke to me, the places they took me. Mom taught me how to understand them and decipher their code. By the age of about 4 ½, I could read Golden and Seuss. Books have saved my life. They have been my constant. My friends. They’ve never betrayed or hurt me. The friends I made in books were always there for me when I needed them. Always. Thanks, Mom. You gave me a most cherished sparklie. I hold tight to it to this day. And I don’t just mean the love of reading. It’s mainly the memories of you sitting with us and reading night after night after night. That’s a memory that shines through all the AFTER that came, the DARKNESS.

Another sparklie, Honey game me. We’ve been married nine years this year, and we were friends for more than a year before that. Anyway…we were dating. He owned a bicycle and we talked about me getting one and then we could go to the park and ride. (We worked 3rd shift and during the day, the park was mostly empty…). So, he took me, TOOK ME (this is important) to Toys R Us because they were having a bike sale. He walked around with me and we finally found one. It was green, my (then) favorite color. He took such care putting my new bike in the trunk of his car…he put down an old blanket so it wouldn’t get scratched on anything. He tied it just so to keep it from moving around and getting scratched…it wasn’t even expensive-assembled it was only $67 after taxes. That’s good, right? Anyway, as I stood back and watched as he meticulously prepared my new bike for the journey to his apartment, I tried really, really hard not to cry. No one, NO ONE had EVER taken such care with anything of mine. Or even of me. I had never mattered that much before. Even as I write this, I cry at the memory. That was the very first time anyone had ever made me feel special, like a real human person. I was devastated. If you’ve ever experienced DARKNESS, you’ll understand. Kindness causes pain because it tears off the scab of unseen wounds. It squeezes out the pus and infection, (the absolute belief that you’re unworthy of such care), and leaves you frightened and numb. But wow. Wow! What a guy Honey is. I didn’t need a diamond ring. The sparklie he gave me that day could eclipse the sun with its brilliance.

Brother gave me one almost as big as the one Honey gave me. Actually, he gave it to me before I met Honey and it is equally as devastating and wonderful, but in different ways. Brother is much younger and after Mom passed away, he wanted me to move home and be the “bad guy” who would get rid of the riff-raff he had accumulated during his mourning period (everyone handles death in different ways). So I did and we became good friends. His buddies would come over and hang out (now there was food…). One day, a couple of the guys said some off color thing and Brother told them they were not allowed to talk that way in front of me. Wow! Thanks for the major sparklie, Brother! Wow!

Sparklies are all over the place. They shine, even when lying in a pool of crap. (Poetic, aren’t I?) A child’s hug. A stranger’s smile. A door held open. A flower peering through a sidewalk. A bird chirping. A dog wagging its tail or a cat’s purr. A baby’s laugh. A song on the radio. A favorite book. A memory, clouded by “darkness fog” or “tainted association” (both phrases I use when referring to my own memories) that suddenly becomes clear...clean...bearable...new...healing...restoring...

If anyone ever reads any of my ramblings, and you stumble upon this one, I hope you glean something from it. Know this: I used to believe the GREAT LIE. Heart and soul. But IT IS A LIE. Open your eyes and look for sparklies. They’re out there.

The crow in the movie didn’t get the sparklie he wanted. But he found some string that the lady friend really liked…be open to whatever form your next sparklie might take. Scoop it up and hide it in your heart. On really dark days, it will fill you up with its sparkliness…promise.

Gremlins...Got Some?

Did you ever see that movie from the eighties…Gremlins? Neat movie. Except now, I actually believe gremlins exist. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to convince me otherwise. This morning I actually left early enough to stop by a store and get cupcakes for Dr. Seuss’s birthday party we planned to have at snack time. To get back to the road I needed, I had to wait for a left turn light. The gremlins in charge of the little switches that change one set of lanes from green to red so that the other set of lanes, namely mine, can go from red to green, were snickering behind their scaly little paws inside the transformer box. If I hadn’t spied a city cop sitting in the parking lot, I would have turned left on red, but alas, I was too chicken to try. I hate the gremlins. They made me wait at least three minutes, which is a lot in travel time. The road was clear in both directions for at least half a mile…but no, they just laughed and high-fived one another and left me stewing, helplessly, at my red light. I’m sure they could see me through a peephole they have drilled in their little box, making fun of my frustrated faces, futile swearing and impotent rage. Finally, other witnesses to their evil antics pulled up behind me and, fearing detection and ultimate deportation, they changed the lights. These are probably the same ones that played with the lights near our old apartment. There, they actually made me wait as long as seven minutes before. I think from now on, I’m going to take advantage of the times they make me wait and see if I can find their little peephole. If I do, I’m going to start carrying a reflective crystal. Then I’ll fry the little buggers! No one will ever have to sit through useless red lights again! (clap, clap, clap...you're welcome, bow)

Traffic gremlins aren’t the only kind that exists, either. I also have reason to believe a microscopic version of the teeny titans of tumult live somewhere on my scalp and have been responsible for the wicked migraines I have experienced recently. Why else wouldn’t my usual remedies work? Because it’s GREMLINS!

Now that I consider it, it’s possible they live in the hair of small children, too. Much like Ratatouille steered his ventriloquist cook, gremlins persuade the children to hit, scream, run, slap, and fall-all day long by pulling their hair and scratching/biting their scalps. And of course, it’s the children who have to sit in time out, not the gremlins…note to self: check children’s heads for signs of gremlin infestation.

On a lighter note, went to Hospital to see Sister in Law and Brother. Met Nephew and Niece in Law there. We are probably the only people who have been threatened with eviction from a hospital. For laughing. OMG Brother makes me hurt I laugh so hard. He is a very talented storyteller. Not to mention the interaction between him and his beleaguered wife. Had a great time. Nice, because on the way was not as much fun. Why must men go over the river and through the woods to get to the next block? Had a tiny argument with Honey cause he always goes waaaaaaaay around the other direction to get anywhere. He thinks it saves time and is shorter. Dang! Hello! Migraine here! Don’t feel like wasting ten extra minutes of riding time just to satisfy your need for a scenic route! You know, I better check Honey for gremlin infestation, too. Just to be sure…

Migraines and Potty Tricks

Sporting same migraine from yesterday, so this one will be short. New niece and Sister in Law doing great. Didn’t go visit-migraine… Co-teacher, as well as another teacher out today-sick kids. So had kids alone and they were really pretty great. We played ice hockey and it was a BLAST!(Bean bags and wooden spoons with boxes as goals-the trick with young children is to have lots of goals so they don't fight over them). It’s Dr. Seuss week and tomorrow would be his birthday. Got to get up early enough to pick up some cake or cupcakes for a b-day party. Honey picked up dinner (he’s so sweet. Thanks, Honey!). Had some clever stuff stored throughout the day but head hurts too much. One quick thing: a child we wonder about sometimes ‘cuz she just seems so “airy” did something clever today that showed forethought, cause and effect, and problem solving (depending on your perspective) skills. At afternoon potty time, she, having completed her business, was taking a long time to finish up and flush. I peeked in on her (really, you must do this; you’d be impressed with all the things they can come up with to do in a bathroom stall). She had taken the tp and rolled off enough to have a generous amount in the bowl. It wasn’t torn off or anything. Nope. She intended to flush and watch the swirling water pull tissue off the roll. It’s actually really neat and fun. I was impressed with her figuring this out, but, since I’m the teacher and part of my job is to teach them right from wrong, I had to pull the plug on her ‘speriment:

Me: Child (meaning her name), what are you doing there?

Child: Um, I went potty. Look! I pooped!

Me: I see that. Did you wipe? (you really have to either look or ask, sometimes both)

Child: Um, yes.

Me: Are you finished?

Child: Yes!

Me: So, what are you doing now?

Child: Um, this! (Vanna White couldn’t have gestured toward a vowel with more aplomb than Child did toward her creation)

Me: Are you supposed to be doing that with the toilet paper? What do you think will happen?

Child: (with dramatic rolling of eyes) Okay, I’m sorry.

Me: Tear that off and put it in the toilet and flush, okay?

Child: (deep, mournful sigh) Okay…

Me: It’s really a really cool trick you’re doing there, but it’s not okay. Understand?

Child: (very sadly) Yes…

Even if what they’ve figured out is unsafe or unacceptable, you gotta give ‘em credit. Three year olds are cool…