I didn't realize it had been so long....my apologies to all my loyal followers...all 12 of you!
My family just bought a camper so I'm sure there are going to be many posts in the future. However, in the meantime, I thought I would entertain you with the details of a recent field trip I attended with my 3rd grade son.
The past few years, the 3rd graders have traveled to northern Indiana to a dairy farm. When the field trip information sheets came home, my son was very excited that I would get to chaperone. I saw that you could get freshly made ice cream and I was sold. The sheet also said that a calf was born every 15 minutes on the dairy farm and there was a good chance we would get to see one. I didn't think too much about it and was more worried about mentally preparing for the kids that I may have in my group.
Yesterday we were up bright and early and traveled the two hours to Fair Oaks Farm for our Dairy Adventure. Yes, I said Dairy Adventure. That's what they call it. I was skeptical. But pulling up to the dairy farm, I was quickly impressed. It was more along the lines of a cow spa. These heifers have it good...from sand beds for maximum utter comfort to getting a ride on the "dairy go round" to be milked, they are living the good life. Plus, when they get off the dairy go round, they are 15-20 pounds lighter! It's basically a colonic for cows but in return, we get milk and ice cream.
To sum it up, I was pretty impressed with this place. A family could definitely spend the entire day there. The actual cows are kept about a mile down the road (which is part of the tour on a cow spotted bus) so you really don't have that farm smell! Be sure to check it out.
Anyway, part of the tour was to go to the birthing barn. There's actually a stop light that lets you know where the cow is in the birthing process. When we were in that area, the light was yellow and said "hooves" so we quickly headed in. When you walk in, it's similar to an auditorium in a semi circle. We took our seats in the stands and behind the glass were two mamas in the labor. Luckily, the glass was thick so we couldn't hear anything. And when the stop light says hooves, it means that the hooves are sticking out....myself, along with 20 3rd graders, were not really prepared for that.
We quietly took our seats and watched. I was so impressed with our group of kiddos. I don't know if they were in awe or completely grossed out or maybe a mix of both but they were so quiet and just watched. Personally, I felt bad for the mama cows. I wanted to climb in there, stroke her brow and offer her ice chips or an epidural. They both were troopers and just kept pushing and changing positions to get comfortable. At one point, my son said "I think she's just gonna push and it's gonna fly out and hit the glass". I assured him that wasn't going to happen and I think he was a little disappointed.
The worker went in and broke the water/sac on one of the cows. The other just kept pushing those hooves out. They quickly decided that the one mama needed some help. Two workers went in, strapped some belt type ropes to the hooves and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. Kids started to cover their eyes. One boy got very pale. And then the calf came out and there was a loud collective "Awwwwwww". The worker announced it was a boy.
As I took in this miracle, the other mama was still laboring. By this point, she had stood up and her rear end was pointed right at us. She had her tail hiked up and we had a pretty good view. I glanced over at my son ready for questions and he was just in awe. I thought he would be grossed out and he was a little bit. Luckily, from our seats and with all the straw, you couldn't really see any blood which would have been his undoing. He watched on and the mama cow continued to push. His eyes were big as saucers. I was so happy I was sharing this moment with him. Then he leans over and I think he's going to say something fabulous like how he wants to be a vet or how the miracle of life is awesome or how he's so sorry that he put me through something similar and totally appreciates me. None of that happened.
He leans over and whispers "Mom, I can see the baby's face!" I asked him what he meant because at this point all you could see was the hooves coming out. He points at the mama's behind and says "See, right about the hooves...there's that circle and it keeps moving and pulsing...that's that baby's lips and it's breathing!!" I just look...and look some more and figure out what he's talking about. I leaned over and whispered "Buddy, that's the cow's butthole." It was hilarious and he was mortified. And then the question of "but I thought babies came out of your butt" started and I said "we will talk about it later" and luckily, later hasn't happened!
After that he was ready to move on to the ice cream eating. The 2nd calf was also a boy but by then, the miracle of life had lost his interest. I laugh every time I think about it so of course, I had to share.
If you get a chance to go to Fair Oaks Farm, I highly recommend the Dairy Adventure. Just be prepared for the questions that may come!
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Thursday, November 14, 2013
The drama of the holidays
I was recently texting with a friend (as in 5 minutes ago) about how the holidays have become so dramatic, stressful and are no longer fun. I guess as a kid we are pretty oblivious to the amount of planning and stress that goes on behind the scene. As a child, we just experienced the good parts...seeing cousins, eating good food, presents, breaks from school, etc. As an adult, the magic is gone. Completely. Gone. I want the magic back.
For me, holiday planning starts in about late August, early September. That's when fall is just around the corner. I start to think that maybe we need a new family picture. After all, the leaves will be changing and we can have a nice fall background. Photographers book up early this time of year so I have to start researching, stalking photography blogs, browsing Pinterest for color palette ideas, growing my hair out, trying to lose weight and then deciding I will just have them photoshop my muffin top, etc. Then it turns into a whole family affair and now 4 different calendars have to coordinate for that one perfect hour in October when everyone is available and the leaves will be at their peak. Then after it's booked, you have to get all the outfits and everyone has to coordinate. Someone's always mad about something and is everyone going to be happy for the picture? Someone is bound to have a meltdown in the process and you kinda hope it's one of the younger kids and not yourself. Then you move on to October. Family pictures are done and you debate for hours on which one to use for a card. Do you go black and white or color? Which printing place has the best templates and the best prices. And do you include the holiday letter? I love to receive them but always feel like I'm bragging when I write our own? Maybe this year I will do a "keepin' it real" version!
It's now mid October and fall is in the air. You've made it through the chaos of Halloween, costume shopping and class parties. Christmas decor and music is now vomiting from every store in town and you have to start your Christmas shopping. I am not a big shopper but I love gift giving. I love finding the perfect gift and seeing the joy it brings to someone else. But let me tell you, the older my kids get, the more expensive the wish list items are! And why didn't anyone tell me the wise men idea 12 years ago??? (your kids get 3 gifts from Santa or you because that how many the wise men gave Baby Jesus) Would have loved to know that! And then their are the lists! Everyone wants to know what everyone wants. I don't ever remember telling others what I wanted as a kid. We circled stuff in catalogs and told Santa and we were thrilled on Christmas morning with whatever was under the tree! Now I have to provide lists for everyone! And there's all the gift coordinating! Nobody wants duplicates on Christmas because no one wants to stand in line for 45 min. after Christmas to return stuff! So now I'm giving certain gift ideas to certain people. I don't think Barrack Obama does this much planning in a day! I then I have to check with everyone to see what they bought so that all items are covered.
By time November rolls around, I'm ready for Thanksgiving. It's a time to be thankful for what we have not what we want. It's a time to give thanks. But then all the blasted black Friday, or Brown Thursday or whatever we are now calling it, ads start to come out. I do not partake in that hot mess.
But even Thanksgiving, which is my favorite holiday, has become dramatic. We have to coordinate with both sides of the family. We have to figure out who is bringing what, will there be drama, do I need to stuff the turkey with prozac, do we have enough seating? I just want everyone to show up, eat and take a nap. Is that too much to ask? Oh and a little help with clean up would be much appreciated too.
When Christmas rolls around, I'm done. I'm stressed and it's no longer fun. I'm checking lists more times than Santa. My belly is shaking like a bowl full of jelly...but not in the good way..more like I have diarhea from the stress. Not a creature is stirring including my husband because he's already in bed and left me with the wrapping and cooking. My nose is like a cherry but it may or may not be alcohol induced. I have the plump part down but the jolly is gone. Long. Gone. By this time, I'm over it. Yes, I will get up and love watching my kiddos rip through their presents. I will cherish that 15 minutes but that's about it. The rest of the holiday is cooking and cleaning and finding places for all the new stuff. My mind will already be drifting off to the vacation we take a few short days after Christmas to the beach. And then a whole new list will appear in my mind of everything that needs to be done before that trip including taking down all the Christmas decor!
This year I am vowing to just let it all go. I want the magic back. I want to actually be thankful on Thanksgiving and take the time out of that crazy day to tell those that I love that I am thankful for them. Even though they may (or may not) be making me crazy through the holiday season, I want to remember that I am lucky to have them. I want to show my kids what the holidays should be like. I want them to remember the holidays as times that the family is together and embrace the crazy that is unique to us. I don't want them to look back and just remember that I spent the day in the kitchen and was a big crab yelling at their dad to take the garbage out.
This year I am going to celebrate the reason for the season. If everybody doesn't get what's on their list or something doesn't fit, I'm okay with that. If you don't like what I'm serving, I'm okay with that too. If we don't make it to every single holiday party and I forget to deliver a cookie platter to someone, I'm okay with that too. I do not need to be six kinds of crazy to make this holiday a success. I will relax and watch Buddy the Elf numerous times. I will spread cheer by singing loud for all to hear. I will let my kids decorate the tree and not move the ornaments after they go to bed. And most of all I will just be thankful for everything that does or doesn't get done.
For me, holiday planning starts in about late August, early September. That's when fall is just around the corner. I start to think that maybe we need a new family picture. After all, the leaves will be changing and we can have a nice fall background. Photographers book up early this time of year so I have to start researching, stalking photography blogs, browsing Pinterest for color palette ideas, growing my hair out, trying to lose weight and then deciding I will just have them photoshop my muffin top, etc. Then it turns into a whole family affair and now 4 different calendars have to coordinate for that one perfect hour in October when everyone is available and the leaves will be at their peak. Then after it's booked, you have to get all the outfits and everyone has to coordinate. Someone's always mad about something and is everyone going to be happy for the picture? Someone is bound to have a meltdown in the process and you kinda hope it's one of the younger kids and not yourself. Then you move on to October. Family pictures are done and you debate for hours on which one to use for a card. Do you go black and white or color? Which printing place has the best templates and the best prices. And do you include the holiday letter? I love to receive them but always feel like I'm bragging when I write our own? Maybe this year I will do a "keepin' it real" version!
It's now mid October and fall is in the air. You've made it through the chaos of Halloween, costume shopping and class parties. Christmas decor and music is now vomiting from every store in town and you have to start your Christmas shopping. I am not a big shopper but I love gift giving. I love finding the perfect gift and seeing the joy it brings to someone else. But let me tell you, the older my kids get, the more expensive the wish list items are! And why didn't anyone tell me the wise men idea 12 years ago??? (your kids get 3 gifts from Santa or you because that how many the wise men gave Baby Jesus) Would have loved to know that! And then their are the lists! Everyone wants to know what everyone wants. I don't ever remember telling others what I wanted as a kid. We circled stuff in catalogs and told Santa and we were thrilled on Christmas morning with whatever was under the tree! Now I have to provide lists for everyone! And there's all the gift coordinating! Nobody wants duplicates on Christmas because no one wants to stand in line for 45 min. after Christmas to return stuff! So now I'm giving certain gift ideas to certain people. I don't think Barrack Obama does this much planning in a day! I then I have to check with everyone to see what they bought so that all items are covered.
By time November rolls around, I'm ready for Thanksgiving. It's a time to be thankful for what we have not what we want. It's a time to give thanks. But then all the blasted black Friday, or Brown Thursday or whatever we are now calling it, ads start to come out. I do not partake in that hot mess.
But even Thanksgiving, which is my favorite holiday, has become dramatic. We have to coordinate with both sides of the family. We have to figure out who is bringing what, will there be drama, do I need to stuff the turkey with prozac, do we have enough seating? I just want everyone to show up, eat and take a nap. Is that too much to ask? Oh and a little help with clean up would be much appreciated too.
When Christmas rolls around, I'm done. I'm stressed and it's no longer fun. I'm checking lists more times than Santa. My belly is shaking like a bowl full of jelly...but not in the good way..more like I have diarhea from the stress. Not a creature is stirring including my husband because he's already in bed and left me with the wrapping and cooking. My nose is like a cherry but it may or may not be alcohol induced. I have the plump part down but the jolly is gone. Long. Gone. By this time, I'm over it. Yes, I will get up and love watching my kiddos rip through their presents. I will cherish that 15 minutes but that's about it. The rest of the holiday is cooking and cleaning and finding places for all the new stuff. My mind will already be drifting off to the vacation we take a few short days after Christmas to the beach. And then a whole new list will appear in my mind of everything that needs to be done before that trip including taking down all the Christmas decor!
This year I am vowing to just let it all go. I want the magic back. I want to actually be thankful on Thanksgiving and take the time out of that crazy day to tell those that I love that I am thankful for them. Even though they may (or may not) be making me crazy through the holiday season, I want to remember that I am lucky to have them. I want to show my kids what the holidays should be like. I want them to remember the holidays as times that the family is together and embrace the crazy that is unique to us. I don't want them to look back and just remember that I spent the day in the kitchen and was a big crab yelling at their dad to take the garbage out.
This year I am going to celebrate the reason for the season. If everybody doesn't get what's on their list or something doesn't fit, I'm okay with that. If you don't like what I'm serving, I'm okay with that too. If we don't make it to every single holiday party and I forget to deliver a cookie platter to someone, I'm okay with that too. I do not need to be six kinds of crazy to make this holiday a success. I will relax and watch Buddy the Elf numerous times. I will spread cheer by singing loud for all to hear. I will let my kids decorate the tree and not move the ornaments after they go to bed. And most of all I will just be thankful for everything that does or doesn't get done.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
The Gym
**Warning - this post is not for the faint of heart. I will be talking about body parts and other gross stuff**
A friend of mine recently asked me to join the gym with her. My daughter has been asking so I thought it was a good time to sign up. I went a few times and felt okay but didn't really feel like I was getting much out of it. I decided to ask a friend who is trained in the field to give me some tips. She was more than happy to put me on a program. I now call this friend very bad names after I work out and then the next day when I'm so sore I have to pee standing up.
I just don't get it yet. I hear people say how great they feel after a workout and how they have all this energy. Um, no. I feel like a sweaty piece of crap and want to take a nap when I get home. I think I'd rather have a root canal and Brazilian at the same time than try the damn elliptical again! I know, I know...I just started and need to give it time. But really, it's been several weeks and I don't ever see me enjoying it.
See, I don't really like to sweat and I don't like sports. Going to the gym combines two things I hate. I know that I NEED to go and that it will benefit my health but I was really hoping to also enjoy it. I guess a girl can't have everything.
It's also really discouraging. Everyone is always complaining about how obese America is and how we need to do something about it. Well let me tell you something, y'all haven't made it easy for someone "obese" to start up. First off - it's impossible to find work out clothes in sizes above XL. Yes, I can wear a t-shirt and shorts. Problem solved. But what about a sports bra? Bet you didn't think about that one. (And probably don't want to think about it either!) Seriously though, I had to go to trusty Amazon to get one and let me just say...it has more hooks than my husband's tackle box. Sexy.
And the machines....some of them are a work out just getting on and off. And my T-Rex arms don't help matters! Tonight I got off the exercise bike and almost pulled a DJ Tanner and collapsed. Yes, you all know the Full House episode where DJ was only eating ice cubes and passes out after her work out. But trust me, my dinner was much more than ice cubes! My legs were like jelly and I had the seat too high and my headphone cords were tangled on the handles. Did I mention that I'm very uncoordinated? And I sound like an elephant on the treadmill. Oh I digress...
I started off only wanting to go when no one was there. I'd go in the morning and smile to all the old people and do my thing. There's nothing more depressing though than the elderly lady next to you kicking your butt on the treadmill. So now I just go whenever. I figure I'm a pretty scary sight so no one will be looking my way. And my daughter informed me tonight that I sing along with my music. Maybe they will think it's Adele on the treadmill...or the guy from Meatloaf. Yeah, I probably look more like him on the treadmill than Adele.
So I will keep on keeping on. I'll continue to call my friend very bad names and she will just laugh and say "it hurts so good" and "feel the burn". I don't think I'll ever love it. Actually, I know I'll never love it. But...what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I haven't died yet....
A friend of mine recently asked me to join the gym with her. My daughter has been asking so I thought it was a good time to sign up. I went a few times and felt okay but didn't really feel like I was getting much out of it. I decided to ask a friend who is trained in the field to give me some tips. She was more than happy to put me on a program. I now call this friend very bad names after I work out and then the next day when I'm so sore I have to pee standing up.
I just don't get it yet. I hear people say how great they feel after a workout and how they have all this energy. Um, no. I feel like a sweaty piece of crap and want to take a nap when I get home. I think I'd rather have a root canal and Brazilian at the same time than try the damn elliptical again! I know, I know...I just started and need to give it time. But really, it's been several weeks and I don't ever see me enjoying it.
See, I don't really like to sweat and I don't like sports. Going to the gym combines two things I hate. I know that I NEED to go and that it will benefit my health but I was really hoping to also enjoy it. I guess a girl can't have everything.
It's also really discouraging. Everyone is always complaining about how obese America is and how we need to do something about it. Well let me tell you something, y'all haven't made it easy for someone "obese" to start up. First off - it's impossible to find work out clothes in sizes above XL. Yes, I can wear a t-shirt and shorts. Problem solved. But what about a sports bra? Bet you didn't think about that one. (And probably don't want to think about it either!) Seriously though, I had to go to trusty Amazon to get one and let me just say...it has more hooks than my husband's tackle box. Sexy.
And the machines....some of them are a work out just getting on and off. And my T-Rex arms don't help matters! Tonight I got off the exercise bike and almost pulled a DJ Tanner and collapsed. Yes, you all know the Full House episode where DJ was only eating ice cubes and passes out after her work out. But trust me, my dinner was much more than ice cubes! My legs were like jelly and I had the seat too high and my headphone cords were tangled on the handles. Did I mention that I'm very uncoordinated? And I sound like an elephant on the treadmill. Oh I digress...
I started off only wanting to go when no one was there. I'd go in the morning and smile to all the old people and do my thing. There's nothing more depressing though than the elderly lady next to you kicking your butt on the treadmill. So now I just go whenever. I figure I'm a pretty scary sight so no one will be looking my way. And my daughter informed me tonight that I sing along with my music. Maybe they will think it's Adele on the treadmill...or the guy from Meatloaf. Yeah, I probably look more like him on the treadmill than Adele.
So I will keep on keeping on. I'll continue to call my friend very bad names and she will just laugh and say "it hurts so good" and "feel the burn". I don't think I'll ever love it. Actually, I know I'll never love it. But...what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I haven't died yet....
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Mom Jeans
I was on Pinterest the other day and saw a pin about picking the best jeans for your body. And really, who doesn't want to look their best in jeans? I immediately opened the post and soon realized that it was a series of posts. After reading them all, I would like to take this time to make a confession. Apparently, I'm wearing "Gateway" mom jeans. That's right folks. Apparently, Old Navy sells gateway mom jeans. Are you as shocked as I am? So now instead of worrying about a few cigarettes leading to being a crack addict, we now have to worry about Old Navy jeans leading to high-waisted, light blue mom jeans? Really? And here's the sad part....I just started wearing Old Navy jeans and really like them. They have several fits but apparently the pocket placement is wrong. Pocket placement - yes, you need to measure from the side and back. Going jeans shopping is stressful enough, now I need to take a tape measure and an assistant?
This leads me to my next point - non-Mom jeans. I don't consider the jeans I wear to be Mom Jeans. I even googled it and along with several SNL skits, according to Wikipedia, Mom jeans are considered to be both unfashionable, and unflattering to the wearer's bodyshape. This style usually consists of a high waist (rising above the belly button), making the buttocks appear disproportionately longer, larger, and flatter than they otherwise might. It also tends to have excess space in the zipper/crotch and leg areas. The jeans are usually in a solid, light-blue color, with no form of stone washing or fading. Other attributes of the style often seen are pleats, tapered legs, and elastic waistbands. Yes, mom jeans are part of wikipedia. My jeans do not fit that description at all so I felt like I was in the safe zone. In fact, my buttocks may appear larger but flatter it is not! Even the jeans my mom wears don't look like Mom jeans to me. And...if you go in Forever 21, they have a TON of high waisted jeans and shorts right now!
I digress, back to the non-Mom jeans. What about the moms wearing the ultra butt bedazzled, low ride jeans? Is that more acceptable? Don't get me wrong, if you can rock the look, then do it. But at what point is it wrong? At what point do we say, "Ok, my butt does not need to be this bedazzled to get groceries?" At what point do you stop buying the same jeans as your daughter and move on the the mom jeans? And what about your son's friends that are seeing your navel and possibly your butt crack? If I could pull off that look, then maybe I would be saying - um never.
I guess since I am a mom, wearing mom jeans is acceptable. Just like wearing bedazzled jeans is acceptable for others. It's all about what you feel looks best on you regardless of pocket placement. As moms, we are judged on so many things already. Can't we just leave jeans out of it? Until that day comes, I'll stick with my gateway jeans from Old Navy and just hope it doesn't lead to Wranglers from Farm and Fleet. (not that there's anything wrong with those either!)
This leads me to my next point - non-Mom jeans. I don't consider the jeans I wear to be Mom Jeans. I even googled it and along with several SNL skits, according to Wikipedia, Mom jeans are considered to be both unfashionable, and unflattering to the wearer's bodyshape. This style usually consists of a high waist (rising above the belly button), making the buttocks appear disproportionately longer, larger, and flatter than they otherwise might. It also tends to have excess space in the zipper/crotch and leg areas. The jeans are usually in a solid, light-blue color, with no form of stone washing or fading. Other attributes of the style often seen are pleats, tapered legs, and elastic waistbands. Yes, mom jeans are part of wikipedia. My jeans do not fit that description at all so I felt like I was in the safe zone. In fact, my buttocks may appear larger but flatter it is not! Even the jeans my mom wears don't look like Mom jeans to me. And...if you go in Forever 21, they have a TON of high waisted jeans and shorts right now!
I digress, back to the non-Mom jeans. What about the moms wearing the ultra butt bedazzled, low ride jeans? Is that more acceptable? Don't get me wrong, if you can rock the look, then do it. But at what point is it wrong? At what point do we say, "Ok, my butt does not need to be this bedazzled to get groceries?" At what point do you stop buying the same jeans as your daughter and move on the the mom jeans? And what about your son's friends that are seeing your navel and possibly your butt crack? If I could pull off that look, then maybe I would be saying - um never.
I guess since I am a mom, wearing mom jeans is acceptable. Just like wearing bedazzled jeans is acceptable for others. It's all about what you feel looks best on you regardless of pocket placement. As moms, we are judged on so many things already. Can't we just leave jeans out of it? Until that day comes, I'll stick with my gateway jeans from Old Navy and just hope it doesn't lead to Wranglers from Farm and Fleet. (not that there's anything wrong with those either!)
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Here we go again....
I was getting ready to blog today because I know you've all missed me and realized I didn't really have a lot to blog about. Sure I could tell you about our trip to Disney and how we drove 21 hours. I could tell you how we were driving through Nashville and my husband told my daughter that Taylor Swift lived there and she was snotty to him so I said "We are never, ever, ever driving on vacation again." Or I could tell you how the dog had something 8 inches long hanging from her butt yesterday and I almost puked. Luckily, my son spotted it before she came in the house. He dry heaved a few times but closed the door in time to keep her out. I'm pretty sure it was part of her intestines that are now somewhere in the front yard. She seems fine though so I won't blog about that.
I scrolled through some old blogs and saw the one I wrote last May about the start of summer. I would write about summer again but it would be the same thing so just go back and read that one. I decided that since I'm cry babying about entertaining my kids for a brief 80+ days, I'd instead write about the people who have had to spend the past 1300+ hours with these kids....the teachers! For my teacher friends who are now scared that I'm going to spill the beans on some funny story about you - don't fret. This post is all about thankfulness.
I'm thankful that my kids have had amazing teachers so far. I have loved every single one of them. Because let's face it, my kids have some quirks. From my daughter puking every day until 2nd grade to my son's stories and his know it all attitude...our teachers have had their work cut out for them.
Back when I was in college, my major was Elementary Education. I didn't get my degree in that because I think God knew I would end up in jail. Now when I help out on field trips or class parties, I know I could never do it. I spend a lot of time at our school as a volunteer and have witnessed our amazing teachers in action. I love that I can go for the "fun" parts and then leave.
Teachers are not only shaping the minds of our children, they are doing so much more. They are teaching, disciplining, loving, nurturing, and so on. And those are the good things! They are also dealing with the crazies...yes...the parents! They are buying supplies for the kids that don't have any. They are running home over lunch to get a blue t-shirt for the girl who forgot to wear her's for spirit day. They are spending their own money to make our Mother's Day gifts! They are dealing with every snotty nose in the class and the kid who doesn't cover his mouth. They are teaching the kid who pees his pants. They are hugging the kid that annoys them. They are dealing with HEAD LICE! That right there is a deal breaker for me! They give and expect nothing back.
They have students they love that become their "own kids" for those 1300+ hours every year. They give them the hugs they need when we aren't there and they are having a bad day. They wipe away their tears when they fall on the play ground. And that kid that your son or daughter comes home complaining about, yeah - they are dealing with that little punk too. This is all in addition to teaching your child everything.
I know I could never home school my children. I'm thankful that we have amazing teachers to handle that large task for me. I love that my kids have the social interactions they need. I love that I can send them to that big brick building for 1300+ hours every year and know that they are in a happy and loving environment. I love that our community is fortunate enough to have such a wonderful school district and that I can be a part of it as a parent.
So as summer break starts today, I won't complain about how my kids are driving me crazy already. I won't post about the drama of taking two to the store with me and being rammed in the back of the ankles with tomato cages my son insisted on carrying. I won't talk about the dressing room episode at Target with my daughter who wanted short shorts. Instead, I will cherish these next 80+ days with my kids before I send them off to meet their next teacher. I'll wonder all summer about who they will have next year because let's face it, it matters more to me than them. When they start to act bratty, I'll think of the teachers that have to endure even brattier kids on a daily basis from August until May.
When you see a teacher out this summer with a huge smile on his/her face, tell them thank you. Because even though your kids are home with you, they are already planning for the next school year.
I scrolled through some old blogs and saw the one I wrote last May about the start of summer. I would write about summer again but it would be the same thing so just go back and read that one. I decided that since I'm cry babying about entertaining my kids for a brief 80+ days, I'd instead write about the people who have had to spend the past 1300+ hours with these kids....the teachers! For my teacher friends who are now scared that I'm going to spill the beans on some funny story about you - don't fret. This post is all about thankfulness.
I'm thankful that my kids have had amazing teachers so far. I have loved every single one of them. Because let's face it, my kids have some quirks. From my daughter puking every day until 2nd grade to my son's stories and his know it all attitude...our teachers have had their work cut out for them.
Back when I was in college, my major was Elementary Education. I didn't get my degree in that because I think God knew I would end up in jail. Now when I help out on field trips or class parties, I know I could never do it. I spend a lot of time at our school as a volunteer and have witnessed our amazing teachers in action. I love that I can go for the "fun" parts and then leave.
Teachers are not only shaping the minds of our children, they are doing so much more. They are teaching, disciplining, loving, nurturing, and so on. And those are the good things! They are also dealing with the crazies...yes...the parents! They are buying supplies for the kids that don't have any. They are running home over lunch to get a blue t-shirt for the girl who forgot to wear her's for spirit day. They are spending their own money to make our Mother's Day gifts! They are dealing with every snotty nose in the class and the kid who doesn't cover his mouth. They are teaching the kid who pees his pants. They are hugging the kid that annoys them. They are dealing with HEAD LICE! That right there is a deal breaker for me! They give and expect nothing back.
They have students they love that become their "own kids" for those 1300+ hours every year. They give them the hugs they need when we aren't there and they are having a bad day. They wipe away their tears when they fall on the play ground. And that kid that your son or daughter comes home complaining about, yeah - they are dealing with that little punk too. This is all in addition to teaching your child everything.
I know I could never home school my children. I'm thankful that we have amazing teachers to handle that large task for me. I love that my kids have the social interactions they need. I love that I can send them to that big brick building for 1300+ hours every year and know that they are in a happy and loving environment. I love that our community is fortunate enough to have such a wonderful school district and that I can be a part of it as a parent.
So as summer break starts today, I won't complain about how my kids are driving me crazy already. I won't post about the drama of taking two to the store with me and being rammed in the back of the ankles with tomato cages my son insisted on carrying. I won't talk about the dressing room episode at Target with my daughter who wanted short shorts. Instead, I will cherish these next 80+ days with my kids before I send them off to meet their next teacher. I'll wonder all summer about who they will have next year because let's face it, it matters more to me than them. When they start to act bratty, I'll think of the teachers that have to endure even brattier kids on a daily basis from August until May.
When you see a teacher out this summer with a huge smile on his/her face, tell them thank you. Because even though your kids are home with you, they are already planning for the next school year.
Friday, December 14, 2012
The Morning Rush
It's 7:40 and I'm already ready to go back to bed. Have you ever had one of those mornings? Why is it, that regardless of what time we get up, the last 10 minutes before the bus comes turns into an Olympic event? Shoes are flying, people (me) are yelling, back packs are zipped in a frenzy.
Today was one of "those" mornings! The kids get on the bus at 7:30. Waking them up at 6:30 gives them an hour. One whole hour. 60 minutes to put on clothes and eat breakfast. Sounds easy enough right? On the occasional morning, it all goes down fine. However, on most mornings, not so much. This morning was a rough one.
The kids were tired, it's been a long, busy week. Usually one of them will cry but I can count on the other to be good and get ready. But when tears are shed by both, it's never pretty. Both needed "just 5 more minutes" in bed. Both ended up taking 20 more minutes despite my constant nagging. My son couldn't get up because his legs were too cold. My daughter couldn't get up because she was just exhausted. Tears started to flow and I started to wonder if mimosa ingredients were in the house.
It's now 7:05. My husband does his morning rounds of goodbye kisses before the lucky bastard gets to escape for what is about to become an extremely dramatic event. My son is still laying in his loft bed which is way too high to physically drag him from. My daughter's hair is beyond frizzy and there's no way we have time to straighten it which leads to an Academy Award performance on her part. I'm still yelling like a mad woman. We are now down to 20 some minutes to get them out the door or my pajama clad body would be taking them to school.
They finally get moving. Clothes are slowly being put on. I'm not too worried about my son because he runs all the way to the bus stop every morning regardless of how much time he has to get there. It's 7:20 and breakfast is being shoveled in. Lunches are packed and then repacked and things are moving along. All that's left to do is brush their teeth and send them on their way. I start to smile as I think about not having to leave the warm house. And then all hell breaks lose.....
Buddy, our Elf on the Shelf, has been spotted! He was in the kleenex box which sits on the back of the toilet. Well there was no way that my son was going to go pee with that creepy Elf staring at him. Of course, he can't move the Elf because Buddy will lose his magic. I go in and move the kleenex box and silently curse Buddy's "handler".
It's now 7:25. The boy is furiously brushing his teeth. My girl has taken her toothbrush back to my bathroom so I assume she's brushing her teeth. Of all days, my son has decided to take interest in his oral hygiene. Of course, on a normal day, this would have thrilled me. However, when you are 3 minutes from the bus coming, I don't have time for him to set his tooth timer and decide he's going to finally start using his Smart Rinse. Also, his gargling skills usually end up making his cough/gag and now there's a mess to clean up and he needs a new shirt.
It's now 7:28. I shove my son out the door with a quick kiss and "have a good day" and he's off.
One down and one to go.
My daughter comes sashaying down the hallway. I rush her along and apparently, she still hasn't brushed her teeth. Being the "mom of the year" and all, I hand her a piece of gum and send her on her way. Yes, it was a stellar parenting moment. Don't judge people. I'll make her brush twice tonight.
Both made it to the bus on time. At least I'm assuming they did because I closed the garage and no one came pounding on the door 5 minutes later. Yes, I could have taken them to school. That only buys us 10 extra minutes though. Sure, it would have guaranteed clean teeth but I like to think that I'm teaching them about real life folks....you know, deadlines, responsibility, etc. Yes, I'm incredibly blessed that I get to stay in my pajamas and can just send them out the door. I do not envy working moms who not only have to get their kids out the door, but also themselves and head to a day full of work. If I ever go back to work, I think my hours would have me leaving before the kids even had to get up! But then again, my kids get their love of sleep from me, so maybe that wouldn't work either.
So all that being said, I would consider this morning a success. While that may be shocking to all of you, no one got grounded or had privileges taken away. Success. Both kids left with dry eyes, no tears. Success. They made it to the bus. Success. Both had a hot breakfast, didn't have to eat on the way to the bus. Success. One had clean teeth. Success (at least in my book). I'll take these small successes as they come. After all, if this morning was an Olympic Event, we may not have gotten the gold but we still made it past the finish line.
And now I'm off to clean up Smart Rinse from the sink and counter. And mirror.
Today was one of "those" mornings! The kids get on the bus at 7:30. Waking them up at 6:30 gives them an hour. One whole hour. 60 minutes to put on clothes and eat breakfast. Sounds easy enough right? On the occasional morning, it all goes down fine. However, on most mornings, not so much. This morning was a rough one.
The kids were tired, it's been a long, busy week. Usually one of them will cry but I can count on the other to be good and get ready. But when tears are shed by both, it's never pretty. Both needed "just 5 more minutes" in bed. Both ended up taking 20 more minutes despite my constant nagging. My son couldn't get up because his legs were too cold. My daughter couldn't get up because she was just exhausted. Tears started to flow and I started to wonder if mimosa ingredients were in the house.
It's now 7:05. My husband does his morning rounds of goodbye kisses before the lucky bastard gets to escape for what is about to become an extremely dramatic event. My son is still laying in his loft bed which is way too high to physically drag him from. My daughter's hair is beyond frizzy and there's no way we have time to straighten it which leads to an Academy Award performance on her part. I'm still yelling like a mad woman. We are now down to 20 some minutes to get them out the door or my pajama clad body would be taking them to school.
They finally get moving. Clothes are slowly being put on. I'm not too worried about my son because he runs all the way to the bus stop every morning regardless of how much time he has to get there. It's 7:20 and breakfast is being shoveled in. Lunches are packed and then repacked and things are moving along. All that's left to do is brush their teeth and send them on their way. I start to smile as I think about not having to leave the warm house. And then all hell breaks lose.....
Buddy, our Elf on the Shelf, has been spotted! He was in the kleenex box which sits on the back of the toilet. Well there was no way that my son was going to go pee with that creepy Elf staring at him. Of course, he can't move the Elf because Buddy will lose his magic. I go in and move the kleenex box and silently curse Buddy's "handler".
It's now 7:25. The boy is furiously brushing his teeth. My girl has taken her toothbrush back to my bathroom so I assume she's brushing her teeth. Of all days, my son has decided to take interest in his oral hygiene. Of course, on a normal day, this would have thrilled me. However, when you are 3 minutes from the bus coming, I don't have time for him to set his tooth timer and decide he's going to finally start using his Smart Rinse. Also, his gargling skills usually end up making his cough/gag and now there's a mess to clean up and he needs a new shirt.
It's now 7:28. I shove my son out the door with a quick kiss and "have a good day" and he's off.
One down and one to go.
My daughter comes sashaying down the hallway. I rush her along and apparently, she still hasn't brushed her teeth. Being the "mom of the year" and all, I hand her a piece of gum and send her on her way. Yes, it was a stellar parenting moment. Don't judge people. I'll make her brush twice tonight.
Both made it to the bus on time. At least I'm assuming they did because I closed the garage and no one came pounding on the door 5 minutes later. Yes, I could have taken them to school. That only buys us 10 extra minutes though. Sure, it would have guaranteed clean teeth but I like to think that I'm teaching them about real life folks....you know, deadlines, responsibility, etc. Yes, I'm incredibly blessed that I get to stay in my pajamas and can just send them out the door. I do not envy working moms who not only have to get their kids out the door, but also themselves and head to a day full of work. If I ever go back to work, I think my hours would have me leaving before the kids even had to get up! But then again, my kids get their love of sleep from me, so maybe that wouldn't work either.
So all that being said, I would consider this morning a success. While that may be shocking to all of you, no one got grounded or had privileges taken away. Success. Both kids left with dry eyes, no tears. Success. They made it to the bus. Success. Both had a hot breakfast, didn't have to eat on the way to the bus. Success. One had clean teeth. Success (at least in my book). I'll take these small successes as they come. After all, if this morning was an Olympic Event, we may not have gotten the gold but we still made it past the finish line.
And now I'm off to clean up Smart Rinse from the sink and counter. And mirror.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Axl Rose had it right....
The past few days have been challenging for me as a parent. Everything worked out fine but I find myself always wondering how much I'm screwing these kids up? Really, as a parent, do you ever catch yourself thinking "oh crap!" I do. Sometimes on a daily basis.
When our kids are little, we are told to trust our instincts. Sure, if my child has a temperature, my instinct is to give her medicine or take her to the doctor. Or if they fall down, instincts have you kissing their boo boo and telling them everything will be alright. But at what point do you have to take a minute and question those same instincts? Like when your middle school daughter comes home with hurt feelings over something a nasty girl said to her? Do you trust your instincts and go tell the little snot off at recess? Um, no. What I really wanted to say to my daughter was "That girl is a little beotch and karma is gonna get her" but as a parent, I held my "instincts" in.
While raising children, we make a lot of mistakes. Luckily, all the ones we make while they are babies, they aren't going to remember. Your child isn't going to remember the time he had a blow out diaper and you almost puked, so you just cut the onsie off of him and threw it away. He won't remember the time you cut his little toe nail too short and you were sure he was gonna bleed out so you stuck his toe in a bowl of flour so it would "clot" faster because that's what the vet told you to do with your dog. She won't remember the time you got a rubber band stuck in her hair so you had to cut a small section out and pray her curls would cover it. But she will remember how you react when she's 11 and her feeling are hurt. She'll remember the words you said to make her feel better and the way you hugged her and let her cry it out while you tried to hold in your own tears because you hate to see her so disappointed.
People say actions speak louder than words but they forget to tell you that words often hurt much worse than actions. My parenting instincts kick in and I want to make everything better for my kids. But does solving all their problems for them really help them in the long run. Sure, we both probably would have felt better if we told that girl off, but luckily, we didn't. There were actually several things I wanted to do but I did nothing. I was patient and just hoped that it would work it self out. I trusted my instincts that I had raised my daughter well enough that she would be able to handle the situation herself. And you know what, she did.
So I guess when Axl Rose sang his G&R hit song and said "Woman take it slow, and it'll work itself out fine...all we need is a little patience" he may have knew what he was talking about. But I will trust my instincts not to take any other parenting advice from him.
When our kids are little, we are told to trust our instincts. Sure, if my child has a temperature, my instinct is to give her medicine or take her to the doctor. Or if they fall down, instincts have you kissing their boo boo and telling them everything will be alright. But at what point do you have to take a minute and question those same instincts? Like when your middle school daughter comes home with hurt feelings over something a nasty girl said to her? Do you trust your instincts and go tell the little snot off at recess? Um, no. What I really wanted to say to my daughter was "That girl is a little beotch and karma is gonna get her" but as a parent, I held my "instincts" in.
While raising children, we make a lot of mistakes. Luckily, all the ones we make while they are babies, they aren't going to remember. Your child isn't going to remember the time he had a blow out diaper and you almost puked, so you just cut the onsie off of him and threw it away. He won't remember the time you cut his little toe nail too short and you were sure he was gonna bleed out so you stuck his toe in a bowl of flour so it would "clot" faster because that's what the vet told you to do with your dog. She won't remember the time you got a rubber band stuck in her hair so you had to cut a small section out and pray her curls would cover it. But she will remember how you react when she's 11 and her feeling are hurt. She'll remember the words you said to make her feel better and the way you hugged her and let her cry it out while you tried to hold in your own tears because you hate to see her so disappointed.
People say actions speak louder than words but they forget to tell you that words often hurt much worse than actions. My parenting instincts kick in and I want to make everything better for my kids. But does solving all their problems for them really help them in the long run. Sure, we both probably would have felt better if we told that girl off, but luckily, we didn't. There were actually several things I wanted to do but I did nothing. I was patient and just hoped that it would work it self out. I trusted my instincts that I had raised my daughter well enough that she would be able to handle the situation herself. And you know what, she did.
So I guess when Axl Rose sang his G&R hit song and said "Woman take it slow, and it'll work itself out fine...all we need is a little patience" he may have knew what he was talking about. But I will trust my instincts not to take any other parenting advice from him.
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