Waiting is not just the thing we have to do until we get what we hope for. Waiting is part of the process of becoming what we hope for. --Ben Patterson
Today we celebrated Christmas with my parents. They gave my little guy a metallic Color Wonder set. Both boys dove in and started creating metallic artwork.
My 9 year old was watching KU basketball and started making a KU sign.
My 5 year old made this UK sign.
This conversation followed:
Him: "Look, Mom! Kentucky!!"
Me: "You are right. UK is the University of Kentucky. Why did you make Kentucky?"
I've been rereading through some of my old posts and it seems as if every.single.post has something wrong with it.
I see 'you' when I meant 'your', 'prayer' when I meant 'pray', and I am missing commas and apostrophes galore. For some reason my brain can only read what I meant to write, not what I actually wrote.
When you set up a very last minute family picture appointment, spend all day getting ready and stressing about the pictures, wait for a couple of weeks to get the CD back, and then THIS is the first picture you see....
.....you get a little nervous.
We are just not the most photogenic family.
Thankfully, when you have a super talented friend taking the pictures, there is still hope.
Nevermind that she made us trudge through the mud to this fun little place.
My cute shoes were not my own anyway. :)
The blue bands on his braces were a bit unfortunate.
OK, a lot unfortunate.
But at least they matched his shirt.
Which was completely unplanned. How is it that I am so used to these crazy braces that I did not even think about them?
Because I seriously would have pulled the bands off.
I had lots of silly pictures of this little guy. Most of which probably reflected his personality with greater accuracy.
But this one melted my heart.
I can't decide if I like this picture of us, or if I just look like I need a 3 hour nap.
So I thought I would post it and then critique it again.
I love that they look like this is a natural thing for them.
Which it is...right before he tackles his brother down to the floor.
I've spent hours sifting through our pictures and this is still my favorite! It is quite possible that it is due to some amazing editing skills, but a little touch up never hurt anyone...
Each year for Christmas, my son's kindergarten teacher makes every child in her class a pillow case. She picks out material that best fits what they love, and then she slaves over her sewing machine for hours. Pillowcases range from spiderman and robots to girly flowers and ballet dancers. Any guesses on what my little guy's pillowcase had on it?
Yep......BUGS!
There is no way she could have picked anything else.
Unless there is material which depicts the child who is always out of his seat.
His teacher also pins a cute little poem to the pillow case about remembering to pray for their teacher when they lay their heads down at night.
My little guy came home from school SO excited about his new "pillow sheet". He showed me the note and told me that in order for him to keep the pillow sheet he had to pray for his teacher. I told him that is a great reminder for his bedtime prayers.
Apparently he meant RIGHT NOW. I'm not sure why he thought the pillow case would go away if he didn't pray for her, but he dropped to the floor and launched into a very sincere prayer.
"Dear Lord,
Thank you for my teacher and everything she does for me.
Please help [teacher's name] to get done everything she hasn't gotten done. (Love this!)
Please help her to have a good Christmas.
Amen."
I probably shouldn't take pictures during prayer, but I just couldn't help myself.
Childlike faith....if only we could all remember that it doesn't have to be more complicated than this!
It had been forecasted for days. The Winter Storm Watch was issued on Saturday. It turned into a Warning on Sunday. They were calling for 6 - 10 inches of snow and 35 mph winds from Monday evening through Tuesday evening.
We finished up our shopping a day early. We redid the schedule at school and made Plan B for final exams in case we had to close school.
It rained for most of the day Monday. Then it gradually turned into sleet, and eventually to snow.
When daddy came home from work today, he and the 5 yo went outside to play in the snow. They threw snow balls and worked on building a snowman until it was dark outside.
Unfortunately, instead of 6-10 inches, we got about 1 centimeter. And it literally took nearly every spot of snow in the entire yard to build the prized snowman.
Someone just mentioned to me this week that they may start a blog.
I, of course, said what a great idea this was, and as we talked, I heard these words come out of my mouth: "One key to a great blog is to make sure that you post nearly every day."
And then I laughed at myself for a long time. Offering advice on great blogging techniques is just, well......funny.
I know that my statement is true. The best bloggers are consistent and they keep people coming back for more.
I know this. I have great intentions. And yet....life gets in the way.
Like sick kids. And papers to write. And more sick kids. And finals to take. On a random side note, writing finals is much more fun than taking finals.
I saw a facebook status this week that I love. My friend said, "I wish I would 'Stress Exercise'."
Amen to that. I've got Stress Eating down to a perfected science. I could use a shift in stress management methods.
At this very moment, 4:07 p.m. on Sunday afternoon, I would like to crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head, and forget about everything looming in front of me that needs to be accomplished.
However, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I am 2 1/2 questions away from being done with class until February. Never mind that 2 1/2 questions will equal at least 3-4 pages; if I look really hard, I can see the finish line. Couple that with 12 1/2 days until Christmas break, and there is a small chance that my sanity may remain in check.
The stress eating....that is yet to be determined.
But which is more important to worry about, my sanity or an extra 10 lbs?
I had a few goals for Thanksgiving Break. They looked something like this:
1. Finish paper, group project, and speech for class.
2. Spend time with family and friends.
3. Clean the house top to bottom.
4. Catch up on laundry.
5. Go Christmas shopping.
Any guess on which one of these did not get accomplished?
Here's how I did:
Shopping - check. This should have been goal #1. Mom and I went for roughly 10 hours on Monday, and my hubby and I logged about 12 hours on Black Friday. Christmas shopping is nearly done. The biggest hold-up is whether or not we are getting something live for the 5 yo. I cannot believe I am even considering it.
Spend time with family - check. Two family Thanksgivings + Two afternoons of hanging out with friends = One very happy me!
Catch up on laundry - check. Although that will change in a matter of hours, and I will be starting all over again.
Finish paper, group project, and speech for class - semi-check. The paper is the only thing that was due this week, and it is done. The project and speech are due on Wednesday and I am making good progress.
Surprise, Surprise....the house is not clean from top to bottom. In my defense, I had Wednesday completely blocked off for this monumental task. No plans, nowhere to go. I was planning to fly into hyper-focus cleaning mode. At 9:00 in the morning I got a text that went something like this - "The weather is beautiful today. Do you want to get your family pics taken?"
I have been trying to figure out how to get this done for months. I had pretty much given up since the weather has turned cold and we have been so busy that my husband and I hardly remember what each other looks like.
I called my husband to make sure he could get off early, said "Yes!" to pictures, and began the flurry of trying to figure out how to pull together outfits, showers for everyone, getting myself ready, and not wanting to kill anyone in the process. Some people love the picture planning part. I HATE it. As in despise. Loathe. Abhor.
Not one inch of the house got cleaned. Instead, it looked like our closets threw up all over the living room.
However, the whole day was worth it once we arrived for pictures. We had a great time laughing together while one friend was busy taking pics and another friend was busy making my kids look cute and smile.
My oldest child turned nine a couple of weeks ago. I just now realized that I never wrote a birthday post for him. I had great intentions.....really.
NINE.
Last year of single digits.
Halfway to 18.
That's just OLD.
This birthday had a little less hoopla than the past couple of years. This was mostly because his birthday present arrived a little early this year. Remember the innocent conversation in Walmart that started this whole deal? It has taken on a life of its own.
Therefore, in honor of my son's 9th birthday, here are 9 reasons why this mama gets a little more nervous each day that goes by.
1. What started as a "Can we go look at a dirt bike, dad?" quickly became a motorcycle, helmet, and a dirt bike track. Complete with hills and jumps.
2. I'm feeling the need to start a cookie jar fund for ER visits.
3. I should have known trouble was coming when he said that it would be much more fun if he had someone to ride with.
4. Enter grandpa's four wheeler. {Sigh.} Why is this more fun? Because they can have deep, meaningful converations while driving??
5. Enter 5 year old on four wheeler. Yeah, that makes me feel lots better.
6. I'm gonna need to get a 2nd job to pay for ER visits.
7. Enter new toy for daddy.
8. Did anyone else notice that there is a helmet missing? And a license plate....and insurance, although that would be difficult to detect in a picture. Those will be coming shortly.
9. This is not exactly what I had in mind when I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that my devotion time was lacking and I needed to be more intentional about prayer.
However, it worked.
And my boys are loving.every.minute, so I'm good with it.
Until we are on our way to the ER. Then....possibly....not so much.
I need to find a couple of "motivational websites for teachers". That is a fairly broad category with way too much open-ended-ness. I'm guessing those websites are supposed to have at least a little to do with school.
I need to locate a picture of my son with his grandparents for Grandparent's Day.
I need to pack lunches.
I need to sign planners.
Instead I am blogging. Honestly, I have no idea why.
Let's just call it a brain break. Tomorrow's going to be a fairly busy day.
One person in our office had a baby tonight.
Another person is sick.
The third person is drowning in the planning of two huge school events on Friday and Saturday.
That just leaves me and the person who handles the money. I think we may just go shopping.
Otherwise we will be juggling calendars, substitutes and schedules. I may even have to teach P.E. This ought to be interesting. And possibly a little bit crazy.
The good thing about crazy is there is no chance of being bored. I intensely dislike doing the same thing over and over. Thankfully, I rarely have to worry about that.
Speaking of crazy, this pic is the whole reason I came to my little blogging world. The rest of my rambling nonsense is just a bonus. Or a cure for insomnia. Either way, it's a win-win.
I love this. I love words, reading, grammar, vocabulary, and did I mention reading? This little sign just made me laugh. It's been floating around on facebook, so I had to steal it.
Just the other day someone at school asked me how I hold it all together. I'm still wondering what her definition of 'hold it all together' is.
I was secretly laughing to myself.
Or crying.
I'm not sure which.
Because the honest answer is....
I DON'T.
There just seem to be moments when things spin out of control. Trust me, when I say out of control, I mean out of control.
And if evidence is needed, here it is. This is what this room looked like this morning.
Apparently my camera date is running as far behind as I am.
This is my utility room....laundry room....whatever you want to call it. It is the first room we walk into when coming in from the garage. It is the first room where the kids throw down their coats and bags. There are typically no less than 6 pairs of shoes somewhere in this room at all times.
It is also the room where the laundry piles up. I am still trying to solve the mystery of how clothes can be 18 inches from the laundry basket, but never actually IN the basket. That must be a rule somewhere in the male manual.
This is the room that is the catch-all from the stuff we carry in from the car, the room where all the pagers are charged, and the room with the shredder and the paper to recycle.
This is also the room where everything gets thrown when the rest of the house is clean and we have people coming over and we just didn't get it all done in time.
This is the room that drives.me.crazy.
Until today.
This now might be my new favorite room.
It is currently bringing me great happiness.
Disturbing amounts of happiness, which I am OK with.
Right now I am practicing not going a little ballistic at the first kid who tries to throw his junk on my floor.
I say that like this has been an annual tradition for us, which it has not. This is the first time we've taken our kids to anything that remotely resembles a pumpkin patch or corn maze.
It was worth the wait. However, their favorite things had nothing to do with a pumpkin patch or a corn maze. This was the little guy's favorite part - the jumping pillow. Destined to continually make you fall down, roll down the hill, land in rocks, and climb back up again. Sounds like loads of fun.
We could have dropped him off here, went shopping for the day, and picked him up at sundown.
Tackling your little brother definitely adds to the experience.
The giant tube slides were also a hit. Terrible for pictures; great for laughter.
The rope maze was pretty cool. I was shocked they wanted to do it, and even more shocked that this child stuck with it nearly the entire time.
This child did it once to practice, twice to race his dad, and a third time to switch colors to attempt to prove that his dad had the easier color. Attempt failed. He had to swallow his pride and just admit that dad was better at it.
I love this picture in the corn maze. It captures their personalities perfectly. I'm guessing the conversation went something like this:
8 yo: We've already been that way, and this path leads to a dead end, so after careful analysis, I think we should take a left. However, there is a sign over there that we have already seen, so maybe we should backtrack and go around the other way.....
5 yo: "Huh? Aren't we just here to have fun?!"
Pumpkin bowling. Fun for all. Except for the parents who have to set up the pins over and over and over and over and.....
Intense concentration.
Strike!!!!
The pictures do not lie. We never made it to the actual pumpkin patch. Because, as my boys said, why would you want to go stare at a field of pumpkins when there is so much other stuff to do?!
I have four separate posts going about stuff I want to remember, weird things my kids did, or thought provoking moments from the past week. It is becoming evident that I will never finish any of those posts.
Hence, the cliff notes version.
My oldest son will be nine next week. Third grade does not seem old to me. Nine does. It is halfway to 18, halfway to adulthood, halfway to moving away to college. Gulp.
Last week he made it official that he is getting older. He asked me if I saw a particular second grade girl on that day and described to me how she looked. Part of his description included "she looked really cute." I picked my jaw up off the floor and continued the conversation like any cool mom would. I'm not sure if he has any idea that this was not a typical topic for him to discuss, and that this is an indication of what is yet to come in the next several years. Regardless, it made me realize that he is growing up.
Speaking of girls....I was just informed at school this afternoon that my 5 year old was holding hands with a little girl all the way from his classroom to the library. This would be the same girl who "has bright blue eyes just like you, mommy....". Oh my.
On a different note, people sometimes ask me why I chose to go into the field of education. The initial answer was, "It was the only way to get to be a Guidance Counselor." The initial answer has never occurred. The more important question is probably, "Why did you choose to stay in education?"
The list is lengthy. Although not the most important, one of the reasons I love it is because no two days are ever exactly the same. Each day brings new challenges and rewards. Yesterday I visited two different schools and met with four different administrators. We talked education for hours.
Today I was back in my building and at various points throughout the day tackled assessment research, newsletter writing, curriculum and grading questions, phone answering, copy machine repairing, and a dose of nursing and janitorial work. All different. All important.
There is more, but I have realized I am rambling.
I may love education, but I will obviously never be a writer of Cliff Notes.
It is also no secret that this extremeintense obsessive infatuation with bugs drives me a little bit crazy.
It seems that his sole purpose of existence revolves around what creepy-crawly he can find next. He goes to the lake to find bugs and spiders. He goes to school so he can find bugs and spiders at recess. He plays outside at home to...well, you get the idea. If a snake or lizard happens to be found in the process, dead or alive, it's all the more exciting.
For him.
Not me.
ICK.
Last week at school his kindergarten teacher caught him being very sneaky with his scissors. After a short investigation she found that he had cut a square out of the polo shirt he was wearing. When she asked him why he did it, this is what he said, "I need to feed my moth, and moths eat clothes!"
For.the.love. Really???
For awhile my greatest fear was that he was going to bring some big brown spider into my house and I would find it crawling in my bed.
Then my fear turned to the fact that if he keeps collecting moths, he may soon not have any clothes to wear.
Now, as the weather is turning colder, my fear is what is this poor child going to do when it freezes and there are no more bugs to catch?
Will there be tears and tantrums every day? Will he demand to know who killed all the bugs?
I am holding out one shred of hope. This bug-crazed child of mine is...ummmm....a tad attention-span deprived. It is technically possible that as soon as he sees the first snowfall, or something equally as exciting, that he may have a significant lapse of memory regarding his bug addiction.
One can only hope.
In the meantime, however, plans may be in motion for someone to get something for Christmas that lives in a cage...
I did not grow up a country girl. Granted, the 'city' I lived in had 1,500 people and about 30 square blocks, but I lived IN TOWN.
I always felt sorry for my friends who lived in the country. They couldn't just come over to a friend's house at any moment, they couldn't ride bikes around town with us, and most of all, they didn't have cable TV. {Gasp}. I really thought I couldn't live without it.
Now I do.
This really doesn't have anything to do with this post, except 'no cable TV' might be the reason I came upon this song. I cannot blame the fact that we don't have cable on living in the country, because we all know that pretty much anyone anywhere can get 500 channels if they really want to.
We are just cheap.
And we don't love TV that much.
However, there is one moment in my day when TV is a must. My elliptical machine and I have a love/hate relationship. I hate getting on it. I love when it's over. Yes, I know those are both all about me. I'm OK with that.
Here is what I have discovered. No matter what time of day I choose to spend time on the elliptical machine, there is NOTHING on TV. All 6 channels. This throws me into great desperation, because one must have distraction while on the elliptical machine.
Enter CMT. I have no idea when CMT arrived on non-cable TV, but it helps to pass the time.
Yesterday this song, "Twenty Years Late", came on. I had never heard it before.
It stopped me in my tracks.
Well, not literally, I kept sweating in agony, but it definitely caught my attention.
It made me wonder...how will my kids remember me?
Am I their taxi cab driver, their nurse, and their maid?
A waitress, a cook, and a shoulder to lay their head on to cry on when nothing is going their way?
Am I their judge and their jury and their biggest fan?
....Or is it possible that they will remember a mom who was always busy and rushing and hurrying everyone along?
Who's head was stuck behind a computer and had no time to respond?
Who had so much work to do that there was never time for them?
This thought scares me. It throws a little perspective on our crazy, busy world. Here's the thing - sometimes perspective HURTS. And not just a little.
I chatted about this with a friend just a little while ago. She asked me if I was looking at things through a clear lens.
My question back: How do you know when your lens is clear?
Here is what I know -- I know that I do not have to be at home 24/7 to be a good mom. I do not have to meet them at the door with freshly baked cookies in hand for them to feel loved.
But I do want to be their counselor, their shoulder to cry on, and their biggest fan. And I want them to remember me as a mom who had time for them in the good times and the bad.
I have a new boss at work. He's a Type A, forward thinking kind of guy. I'm OK with that, I'm fairly Type A myself. However, this week he asked me what I want to do next year. NEXT YEAR? It's only September!
I took a moment to enlighten him about my "grass is always greener" complex, and told him that right now might not be the best time to ask me what I want to do next year. To say that working full-time and taking classes has been a bit overwhelming is a major understatement.
I didn't tell him that if I had to decide right now, there is a good chance that I would choose the couch, bon-bons, and a really good book.
This sounds terrible, but the thought of staying at home while my kids are at school........well, it sounds like a little piece of heaven right now.
The other day I walked into a friend's house in the middle of the week and it was perfectly clean. Granted, they just moved in a month ago, but I asked her if her house really looks like that all the time. I nearly fell over when she admitted that, yes, she really tries to keep it consistently looking that nice. Again.....another little piece of heaven.
The question for me, though, is how long would it really last? I'm not talking about the clean house; I already know that answer.
How long would I be content not being submersed in the field of education? My track record for staying away from it is really not so great.
How long before I would be wondering why I was sitting at home when both of my kids were in school? How long before I would be wishing that I was there with them?
Honestly, it just makes my head hurt.
Balance. What I really need is balance. It is the answer that I am looking for, I just haven't quite figured out how to make it reality.
I'm a little nervous that I am going to wake up one morning with an 18 year old ready to go off to college, and I am still going to be trying to figure it out. And that I'll look back and realize that all those years of trying to find balance just landed me with years of regret.
(It's been nice knowing you. He is going to kill me when he sees this.)
Like Son.
Minus the mullet.
Here is how it started...
Two weeks ago on Sunday we were walking through Walmart. My five year old said, "I want one of those!" while pointing to the battery powered toy motorcycles. My eight year old put in his two cents, "Yeah, Dad, we have a big yard, it would be so fun to drive around with that.
My husband told my eight year old that he was too big for one of those, and what he really needed was a dirt bike.
I thought he was kidding.
I also didn't give it too much thought because my husband is....ummmm....a saver of money. Careful. Cautious. Thrifty.
What I forgot to take into consideration is that my husband grew up with three wheelers and motorcycles. His dad built him a three wheeling track complete with hills and jumps.
Nevermind that he nearly died from a three-wheeling accident when he was in fifth grade. We won't focus on that little fact.
So, Sunday the conversation started. Wednesday they went to the motorcycle store. Saturday the purchase was made. And now we have this.
My parents aren't sharing much of an opinion, which speaks for itself. My MIL said, "I can't believe you allowed him to buy that." My son is elated. And there are 37 and 70 year old little boys outside freezing their rears off, having the time of their lives.....building a track complete with hills and jumps.
I have absolutely no idea if my child is learning anything in Kindergarten. In the morning, he says he doesn't want to go to school. In the afternoon, he says his day was "good". When asked what they did during school, he doesn't remember.
Unless I ask about recess. Then I get some information....because that is when he goes bug hunting. OH MY. It is out of control.
Ever since this child was a tiny baby, we have called him "Bug". Not always, just sometimes. It was just a fun little nickname. Usually I use it with his name in front of it, because it just rolls off my tongue all cute-like.
Now I am thinking this maybe wasn't such a good idea. The level of infatuation with bugs is almost frightening. If I had known the power of a nickname, I would have opted for something like "Genius"....
Everyday he brings home a ziploc bag that looks something like this.
This week he has expanded his search to spiders.
This does not thrill me.
However, he is IN LOVE. Spiders are way more fun because they spin webs right from your hand. As demonstrated here....
And here....
Until you manhandle the spider so much that the spider keels over dead right on the spot. This act instigates hysterical, sobbing sadness.
*I like school, but August might just be my new least favorite month of the year. Too busy, too much work, too many babysitters for the kids, too hot, too tired to do a good job of transitioning schedules.
*My 8 year old was filling out a "What's the Scoop?" page for his 3rd grade teacher on Thursday night. It was full of statements like, "I am good at __________", and "I wish I could meet _________". My son was doing pretty well until he hit, "Life is __________". His first words were "not good". I tried (fairly unsuccessfully) to hide my shock and tried to explore this statement a bit. What I got was plenty of tears and no explanation. My heart started breaking a little.
*The Sunday School class I am going to just started The 5 Love Languages of Children. The VERY FIRST PAGE held a story about a 3rd grade boy who was withdrawing, acting up at school, and struggling at home. When the parents were asked if anything had changed in the home, the mother shared that she had just gone back to work full time for the first time in years. Rip.My.Heart.Out.
*My son's primary love language is quality time. Time......time.....time. No decisions made yet, because I don't tend to be a rash decision maker, but the Master's classes may have to be put on hold.
*On a completely different note, here is a piece of advice. When your clothes are feeling a little tight, and your upper arms are waving goodbye long after your hand is finished, and you think about asking your weight-lifting husband to design a program to help you get back in shape...don't do it. OUCH. Go somewhere else. Get a trainer. Pay the money. It will be easier to fire the guy.
This is how the first day of school started. He doesn't value school so much.
Next, he sobbed through breakfast. That was fun.
Thank goodness this child is an early riser and a happy eater.
Thirty minutes later.....progress was made. They even managed smiles. Sort of.
First day of Kindergarten. I love this lady. We started working at the school at the same time...14 years ago. I have taught her children; she has taught mine. She makes dropping him off so easy.
I was the lucky pick for morning duty, so we didn't even see my 8 yo's teacher before the whole room was flooded with people. I see a restaging event in our future!
The benefits of having morning duty....a couple of fun shots of my kids.
