Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Could be YOUR child's 3rd grade teacher...

Its not even the first day, David.

My dear younger brother is having trouble coming to grips with the fact that just because he was *nursed through elementary school doesn't necessarily mean his life is a depiction of ease and convenience.

He's about to begin his second consecutive year of teaching 3rd graders in Yakima, WA and, if I've heard correctly, he's in high demand. He attempted to withdraw his name from a list of applicants following an interview he had for the aforementioned third grade position due to having already accepted a first grade job elsewhere. Though he desired to continue teaching third grade he felt that the a week's notice prior to school starting might be less than honorable and rethought the idea he had of continuing the 'hunt'.

As he called to withdraw his name it was mentioned that he was in fact the candidate that they were just about to call to OFFER HIM THE JOB. David, finding all of this to be a bit awkward and yet exhilarating (not his choice of words maybe, but that's how I'd feel!) dove right into his concern for quitting his post as a first grade teacher at another school so near the beginning of the year!

It all turned out to be a wonderful opportunity and the details were sorted from there. Consequently though, David and my Mom spent a day this weekend putting his up and coming room o' education together.

Great job, brother. I'm so proud of you.

Please see my creative Mom at work... she constructed the tree above. I've pressed her to write it all down in detail and post it on the intertron but she says I'm just shining her on... I'm not, Mom. In fact, I'd like to hire you to do the kids' playroom... but this time, construct it so they can climb. I know you can, you little sprite of creativity. Who knew!

*Note: David was not nursed through elementary school.

Mr. Clean Magic Eraser

I am one who finds something that works and then no matter what the cost, I stick with it.

*Running as the best form of exercise
*Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child
*Eating less calories than I burn
*Lucky Brand jeans
*Jesseca Emerson and I
*Kyle
*3 Day Potty Training
*Pampers through Stage 1, then Huggies
*Folex
*Grocery Game dot com
*Flip-flops
*Never away from home at nap time
*Herbal Essence
*Just In Quesadillas at Red Robin

... and the list goes on.

I have now added:

*Mr. Clean MAGIC ERASER

By the way, it contains MSG. That amazing eraser has cleaned off every mark on my walls to date and I just bought it today.

I have Jesus for my salvation and Mr. Clean for my walls.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Won't you be my neighbor?

Fred Rogers coined the phrase, "won't you be my neighbor?" many years ago. What I love is that the shows we've chosen to turn on for our children during our morning wake-up-slow session has been none other than Mr. Rogers followed by Sesame Street. There are no commercials on KCTS which in turn assists Kyle and I in our attempt to free our children from the inability to pull themselves away from what our culture has labeled as being hip and necessary. We've desired for them to play outside... get out of their comfort zone (don't even talk to me about the recent articles I've seen regarding "how to transition your child to a different preschool")... meet people who, in fact, are different than them... do things that give them energy and provoke creative and imaginative thought... no, I'm not referring to the nouveau way of raising a child but instead the, what I think is supposed to be, normal way of raising a child.

****

It was a moment I'll never forget.

The doorbell rang last week and I opened it to find two boys - the ages of 5 and, I assume, 10. The little boy, Ryan, asked if Katie could play. A smile danced across my face and I almost skipped into the kitchen knowing that Katie would soon discover that wonderful childhood feeling of "wanting to be played with", being beckoned to the front door to go discover something in the neighborhood that hadn't been discovered yet, to go ride bikes until Mom called you in for dinner, to go be kids before you had to return to structure and discipline. This was her first time.

She didn't know what to do at first. She scrambled out of the kitchen to find she arrived at the front stoop shoeless and without a helmet... this isn't going to do, she thought... but what if they leave before I return with my shoes on, she thought... where is my helmet and should I get my bike out first, she asks herself... "WAIT GUYS DON'T LEAVE WITHOUT ME!" She yells from the front stoop as she flips around and scrambles down the hall to the closet. Her eyes darting every which way without hope of ever accomplishing the task at hand... my heart lept. This was my moment as a Mom to shepherd my child as I've never done before. To teach her that this is only the beginning of great adventures with neighborhood friends.

I got down and calmly took hold of her hands. "Katie, would you like me to get your helmet and bike for you while you put your shoes on?" It was as though I had just roped the moon. Once she was over the elation (for a mere half second, of course) she ran into the closet still yelling every few seconds for the boys to wait for her. She would get one shoe in her hand, run all the way to the front door and cup her hands around her mouth, run back to the closet, find her other shoe, run to the front door and cup her hands around her mouth... on and on it went. It was wonderful to watch.

She rushed down the driveway, helmet on and carefully, but hurriedly, walking her bike. She was off. She spent a couple of hours biking up and down the sidewalk between our house and the boys house about 100 yards away. I casually kept an eye on her and found myself pulling my heart back into my chest a few times... this was harder than I thought.

Yet exactly what I want.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Not above much.

That there is a picture of pizza and poop. (right)

I will usually change my sheets about once a week... if that grosses you out than I will refrain from telling you what I put up with during those seven evenings of sleep. I'll just let you guess...

I nurse in bed... my 4 month old throws up after every feeding... sometimes my daughter crawls into my bed during our afternoon nap and brings with her a cup of what was at one time cold milk and her baggy of crackers trailing crumbs throughout the sheets... I sweat from hormones... Kyle sweats because he sleeps for goodness sake... Ben wets THROUGH his pajamas frequently while snoozing in our bed... there's those "dutch oven" moments when William crawls into our bed to say good morning and its not until I lift the sheet up close to my chin, an ammonia smell wafting up from the depths of my bed, and I realize he's peed the his bed during the night.

Just this morning I awoke to William crying in the hallway for me. It was 6:00am and my body hurt. I was sleep walking as I approached him which, to my credit, was probably why I didn't notice how wet he was from having peed himself. I quietly shepherded him back to his bed and crawled with him under his sheets. It was at that moment I realized the severity of the situation at hand. As I laid there in disgust for a few moments feeling the wetness beneath me I tried to justify what I was about to do... but I couldn't.

So, without any excuse or justification, I will say that I closed my eyes in hopes that the smell of urine wouldn't keep me awake.

We awoke and bathed ourselves though! Can't say that happens everyday.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Boys and Butterflies.


I know, I know. MOST Moms of little boys find their son's creative, focused, gentlemanly, soft-side to be prevalent but undeservedly missed by the observing eye. Due to culture's presumptions that little boys are... well, you know... energetic, unfocused, hyper, kill-kill-kill, "burping out their bum", self proclaimed comedians... we often don't hear about the sweet side of things until one mom is trying to sell another mom on her son's better-than-most tendencies or the Christian mom is head over heels excited about her son's "break through" or God-like characteristics.

I like to think that although my 27 month old son enjoys "shooting people" as of late, we are on the brink of discovering the world's most peace filled and prayerful three year old on the planet. Never mind that just months ago he sat quietly in the midst of the Sunday service only to invent the one and only "blue crock gun". William sat quietly for 45 minutes following the worship time - inflating the pride of his mother and grandmother - and walked away with not life giving wisdom from the Lord but yet another annihilator of a device. He had carefully connected his two crocks together perpendicularly using the "pew pens" that most people use for sacrificial giving/tithe envelopes and had, to his amusement, a device for shooting down those up front making a mockery of "Amazing Grace". To his credit, it was most likely accompanied by a soundtrack and an invisible choir. If I had had my wits about me at the time I would have remembered such an abominable attempt but as I looked down the pew at my 2 year old I only saw what looked to be a well versed hunter scoping his prey waiting for the perfect kill as he looked through his scope.

Today, we entered the Butterfly Exhibit at Woodland Park Zoo. Accompanying our squad o' Scheis was Christelle Perman-Marshall and her three kids along with Rachel Kalous and her two... okay, almost three - due end of November this year. As we walked amongst the music and what was supposed to be "stillness" I watched as William went from being mesmerized by the butterflies to being excited about the butterflies to jumping around flying like the butterflies and climbing up places he wasn't supposed to to wanting to SQUASH the butterflies! This wasn't a mean attempt as much as it was a game! He was smiling and looking up in pride at me every time he was within close range of one on the path! I quickly and quietly tried to maneuver him away from the beautiful creatures but he was not to be swayed. His eyes were fixed on his prey, as beautiful and delicate as they were, and he was determined to catch one if it meant he had to beat it first. I was a little embarrassed as it was undesirable behavior to me - not surprising behavior, just undesirable. Surprisingly though, I found myself refraining from the ear to ear grin as I watched the joy dance across his face! With no reference point from which to leap I simply drew as clear of boundaries as possible and kept a close eye on what was unfolding to be an unbeatable battle. I wanted him to want to just hold them and caress their beautiful wings... I wanted him to smile and walk with a light step as he experienced unthinkable color combinations and unbelievable detail...

He wanted to squash them. I turned around half way through the exhibit to find him tailing a lovely orange butterfly as it flew around him in circles. He held his right foot in place as he spun and attempted to stomp the life out of what his sister and I would consider to be an incredible work of art.

Benjamin is four months old. Two boys at the Butterfly Exhibit will be quite the experience. I'm sure I'll be laughing even harder by then... oh Lord, don't let me forget the joys of this!

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

I saw Erin Brockovich today.

You know the woman I'm talking about. Or maybe you don't. You don't see them all that often to be honest with you.

As I steadily passed cars while driving in the HOV lane this afternoon I noticed a little Datsun truck in my rear view mirror was gaining on me. I kindly pulled into the fast lane so that s/he could pass me... as she passed, I smiled - with a bit of envy.

Inside the extremely small cab her hair whipped about. The windows were down and her elbow rested on the window so as to catch a little sun. Her 8 year old son sat across the bench from her with a look that said he knew much more about life than any other 8 year old out there... not necessarily bad. Just more. They sped at approximately 75-80 mph, if I were to guess, and they had the world at their fingertips. Swinging from the rear view mirror was a faded "Little Trees" air freshener.

I caught sight of her low cut spaghetti strap tank and her tight shorts... her son was blond and handsome in a young summer boy kind of way.

Oh it was a wonderful moment... one that made my day. I wanted to yell and make sure she knew that she was better than the world gave her credit for. I wanted to go meet her and learn a few things from her as far as life goes. I know she could have taught me a thing or two.

In any case, blessings to the Mom in the little red Datsun truck driving North on I-5 today... you made me smile.