The Things Kids Take Pride In

Come into my house. Only don't look at anything in it except this cute little girl and something she taught herself to do and now takes great pride in. Don't look at that counter to the right because when I moved in I put a bunch of stuff that I didn't want to deal with right away on top of it ... and eight months later I still am not really interested in dealing with. (But it's bugging me, so one of these days....) And don't look at that horrid table to the left and eventually right behind the cute little girl at the end of the clip because ... well ... I let another cute little girl get every craft pain in creation out and every single one is on that table...along with a grand variety of items that girl felt necessary to create some "craft" of her own design, including but not limited to 2 backs of 500-ct cotton swabs and a bottle of leave-in conditioner. Ok, the conditioner isn't part of the craft and neither are the nail polish bottles and the polish remover, but.... I'm not going to bother to say WHEN I let her get that all out, but ... well ... that will have to be dealt with soon, too.

But check out this cute lil girl o' mine. She came to me just yesterday and told me to watch her. So I watched as she demonstrated (with GREAT pride, I might add) how to fold a sweatshirt. It amused me enough that I asked if she'd do it again while I video'd. Now granted, it's just one of those things that mommies are amused by/take pride in, but it's something I want to remember years from now ... her character traits and how proud she was, moreso than the art of folding.

And be glad for this blog, because before I remembered this video I was going to share ... buh-buh-BUH (that was supposed to sound ominous) ... SECRETS YOU PROBABLY DON'T KNOW ABOUT HILL. (Except for my mom, aka Grandma, and she'd rather watch this video anyway.) (Hi Mom!)


Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

Blog Therapy

No creativity tonight. This won't be a blog you'll really enjoy. But I need to write so here I sit.

If I "had" someone here, I'd cry on their shoulder and babble on about lots of unrelated things that wouldn't make a lot of sense. But no one's here right now, so I'm typing.

If I actually "had" someone here, maybe they'd just understand it's me and let me cry and babble. But no one's here right now, so I'm typing.

I got myself all tense about some stuff for work. A deadline I thought was later this week was actually yesterday (though that deadline was made with a couple day's breathing room, actually). I promised I'd have everything ready first thing tomorrow morning. The problem is I forgot to keep a copy of some testing I did of my class and didn't get to the lady who has the original before she left Monday so I'll walk into school without having kept my promise and that makes me sick. So I'm stressed over that.

And today was full of reminders that my baby (my first one) is growing up. I know, I know, she's only ten, but she's changing already. I can tell it in her emotions and her sense of responsibility.

For example, the past five years of schooling for Meg have been years of her and I battling over her homework. It was a battle that started right after school and ended well after dinner...sometimes til bed or worse. This year, she just does it. She had a bit of work she didn't finish last night (knowing she had today off school). So this morning, I decide to sleep in just a little bit. 7:30 or 8:00, I thought. Meg is a real morning person. She got up somewhere around 6:40 and headed to the living room. Alli had crawled into my bed in the night and at around 7:00 or 7:15 she woke and realized Meg had gotten up and she went to the living room, too. Seconds later she was crawling back in my bed, saying, "Megan's doing her spelling." ?????????????????????????? Without being told? Got up, resisted the tv, resisted her DS, resisted getting every toy on earth out to spread around the living room in Saturday morning style....and did homework. It might not sound like a big deal, but if you knew how often these little things happen, you'd see too that Meg's growing up.

Then to add insult to injury, tonight Megan shaved her legs for the first time. Now I know some will think it's insane. Too young. There are a lot of things that I feel strongly shouldn't happen too young, too. But shaving isn't one of them. It was one of those things that made her feel self-conscious. So the shaving has begun.

And I sit here feeling sad. It's like...a rite of passage or something. And I'm proud of her. So very proud of the young lady she's slowly becoming. I know she's still a little girl in so many ways, too, but the journey is beginning. It fills me with feelings of regret. There are so many things I want/wanted for her childhood and before I know it, it will all be over. And there's nothing I can do about it. I just wish for a sound family for her and Alli. And while I think that as a single mom, I do a pretty good job...in so many ways, I don't feel like I make us a "family." I'm not good at creating traditions all on my own. And they come home from dad's talking about the things they do...or traditions, etc., and I feel ... cheated somehow. He's presenting a family life to them and what am I giving them?

And now I feel like I'm running out of time. I want so badly to model for them what two loving parents should be like. I want them to see a good marriage so they can grow up to expect good and not just put up with who knows what. But there's just me. I can't model a relationship when I don't have one.

So yeah, I'm blue tonight. And I wish it was just tonight that I feel this way, but I think these feelings lay down in my heart a lot of the time. But what do you do? You can't change reality? You can move forward in your life and do your best, but you can't just dictate it.

None of this is what I dreamed of as a child. And I sit back and wonder how I could have made such monumental mistakes to be left with the life I've got right now.

I could ramble on a long time, but I'm stopping now. I don't know if this is the sort of thing you vent in a blog, but I guess I just did.

I'll be back soon with something more than this therapy session.....

Guess Who's a What!!

(2 blogs, 1 day = difficulty focusing)

This year, my daughter, Megan, decided she wanted to try out for the school choir, The Bayshore Singers. Auditions were this morning and she was excited and ready to go.

This afternoon, I walked into my classroom after some after-school duties and she was waiting in my room.

She grabbed both my arms and said, "GUESS WHO'S A WHAT!!"

I said, "You're a Bayshore Singer??!"

And she screamed, "YES!!!!" and jumped up into my arms. (And I wonder why my back hurts, lol.)

She is so excited to have made it through auditions and to have made the choir. And so I had to come brag a bit about my girl. Mom's are supposed to do that, you know. Isn't it nice that we enjoy it so much??? :D

Alli Strikes Again, aka, What Are YOUR Kids Watching?

We're hanging out this evening watching Spongebob and a few minutes ago commercials came on. Now, thanks to DVR technology, I almost never watch commercials anymore, but tonight we're watching "Live."

So a commercial came on with some man and his dog and the man said he was going to be hosting the Fido Awards on Nick at Nite.

Alli looked over at me and I THOUGHT she said, "Nick at Nite? ... So do we need to get naked???"

I said, "What????" Then it hit me, and I told her, "NOT Naked Night, NICK...at Nite."

So what are YOUR kids watching???

Just a quote from Alli...

Problably one of those have-to-be-there sorts of things....or something only a mother enjoys, but I'm writing it anyway, because this is MY blog and I can write whatever I want, lol. :D

Al was playing with some boxes I have. They're the kind that fit inside each other like nesting dolls. These particular ones actually turn into a sort of Santa Claus if you take them out and stack them up. Don't ask me why she has them out in September.

She took them out and apart, then put them back together and said, "Three boxes that fit into one. That's dandy!"

Indeed it is.

Where to?

Where do you go after "hoarse crack"? Now there's a question you never thought you'd hear, huh? Well, I'd never really anticipated such a question either, but then again, I never really anticipated someone telling me I've got hoarse crack. But, regardless of expectations and anticipations, that's the question of the evening.

Hmmmm...what do you say we talk about my cooking? Sad that the term "hoarse crack" makes me think of my cooking, but, well, if you'd ever ate something I cooked, you might see the connection.

You think I kid, don't you? Think I'm being rough on myself? Well, let's see. Come with me. You'll have to be really quiet, because we're going to spy. Spy on who? Well, my toughest critics: my children.

Let's have a look:

It's a Friday evening and my kids have become a little too accustomed to "convenience foods." But, like Old Mother Hubbard's cupboards, mine were looking pretty bare, so I resorted to cooking from scratch. This alone raised suspicion, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so scratchin' I did. I can't recall right now just exactly what I made, but it was nothing bizarre and really wasn't a flop. Now, admittedly, it was also NOT gourmet, but we aren't exactly the silver spoon set, so we don't see much gourmet, anyway.

The girls took their dishes and headed to the living room to watch some tv while they ate. I was still doing something (again I don't remember what) so I remained in the kitchen...which actually was open to the living room. It was one of those "great room" setups. So I wasn't sitting with them, but I could hear them and see them. Now listen closely and you can hear them, too.

Allison: Pray! (Allison's command for "saying Grace".)
Megan: (quietly) We'd better pray that this stuff is edible.

Do I really need to say more? Probably not, but I'll give you another example. Again, it comes from my toughest critics.

This summer we were visiting family in Montana. My mom, my sister in law, my brother and I were sitting in Mom's living room. My niece said something about someone's cooking being good. Then she said something like, "Well all three of you are good cooks." I chuckled and said, "Well, Faithie, technically I'm not that good." And as she sweetly smiled at me, my daughter tried coming to my defense by saying, "Well, Mom, you don't really cook. You microwave."

With "friends" like these....

Ok, one more case in point. Within the last month I again was doing some real cooking. I asked the girls what they thought of whatever it was I'd cooked and Allison looked at me and said, "Not bad for a beginning cooker, Mom."

So there ya have it...my cooking naturally follows the subject of hoarse crack.

Go figure.

A 5-Year-Old's Diagnosis

Well, this was day two without a voice. I was only hoarse when I left school yesterday. Today my voice cut in and out, but when it was "in" it was pretty weak. This really perplexes 5-year-olds. (Can you make 'perplex' a verb?)

One little boy came into my classroom this morning and upon hearing my voice became immediately interested. He sat down at a computer near me and after a few minutes he turned to me and said (in his little gruff booming voice), "You've got hoarse crack!" (Or was it 'horse crack'? I've got no idea.) I chuckled and said, "You mean I have a hoarse voice." He looked at me like that was about the most ridiculous thing in the world and said, very emphatically, "You don't got a hoarse voice! You've got hoarse crack!!"

I think I feel worse now that I've got a diagnosis.