I Have A Big But

Loved this video from church last weekend.....it might even speak to you, too.

http://www.sermonspice.com/product/37571/big-but

Week One of School 2011--H.I.S.T.O.R.Y

Surviving the first week of school in our district is a feat worthy of an award.  And I'm not just talking about teachers.

Yes, teachers have a little more stress on them since they are in charge.  However, our district feels it's necessary to try to kill off teachers, students and parents all at once.  Elementary teachers have an open house the first "official" day back to work.  High school teachers have PST on their first "official" day back to work.  Middle school teachers in my building have two nights at school for PST which equals out to two 14 hour work days. One of those happens to fall on the first day of school....so add to that mix students who are still in shock from waking up before noon and parents who are sick already of being at school for meetings and we have a lethal combination.  But, it appears my opinion counts little to nothing, so until the parents start throwing fits, nothing will change.

Thing 1 started 4th grade and had an incredible teacher whom she bonded with immediately and loved.  Had.  Three days into the week we were notified they had enough extra kids to hire an additional teacher so they were going to take her teacher (she was in a 4-5th blend) and put her at 5th grade and move the 4th graders to a new teacher.  Most kids are probably fine with the switch, but Thing 1 doesn't do well with change and is freaking out.  Friday night was a sob session for her as she revealed the reason she was so naughty was she didn't want to leave Mrs. Cronin.  (That was half of it--the other half was she was exhausted from the week.)  Anyway, Monday brings a new teacher, and by new I mean brand new out of college.  Thing 1 is a teacher's dream come true, so she will be fine eventually.

Thing 2 loves her daycare and has a new playmate there so she is doing great and is still potty trained.  She is however, much more vocal in her protests and also in her happiness. Screaming when happy has become the new norm. Although it's headache inducing for me, there's something rather awesome about a very happy little girl. Even if her sweet little face doesn't match her potty mouth, as exhibited by her recent, "Goodnight, Butthole" to her sister, who by the way, taught her that lovely word.

My students appear to be pretty normal 12 year olds.  There's a few naughty boys who have surfaced quite quickly, and even more lazy ones who have emerged quite quickly, too.  I haven't found many issues with the girls yet, but I believe they're still a little intimidated by me and will refrain from the girl drama for another week.  My motto is to use whatever works to make them understand you're in charge---so intimidation works for me, at least until they figure me out a little more....which means I have about one more week of "the honeymoon" period.

Letting go of control paid off!

I have an issue with not being in control of situations.  It's basically a curse from my younger years and it is still pretty strong. I come by it naturally since when I was molested as a child, I vowed that I would NEVER let myself be in a situation where I was the one being controlled instead of in control.  Obviously, that doesn't work in every situation, but it was what pushed me to be the control freak I am now.

I'd like to think I don't control my children's every move in life, but I'm sure I do more than necessary.  One of those situations was of course, posted about a few weeks back regarding Thing 2's refusal to go on the potty.  I gave up control and decided I totally didn't care if she was potty trained, and truly, I didn't.  I didn't bother asking her or putting her on the toilet or even showing any interest. It was rather freeing.

Fast forward to this week when she decided she wanted to be potty trained.  And guess what?  The day she decided, she was trained.  She hasn't even wet in her sleep the last two nights.  And she even pooped in the potty chair yesterday, which was a quick lesson for me on how much dogs love kid poop (or any poop for that matter) when Jersey had it sucked up and swallowed by the time Thing 2 could proudly show me her creation.  After gagging like crazy, I finally believe I talked her into trying the big toilet for those kind of creations.

This was a good lesson for me.  Not the dog eating the poop, but Thing 2 being able to control her own potty destiny. It reminded me how often I try to take control from God in my life and how it has been a constant battle for me to allow Him to control things.  I don't even like to be a passenger in anyone's car!  But my prayer is that each day God will break down those barriers I've built and will convince me once and for all, that He's a safe and superb driver.

Where's the turn off switch?

What needs to be turned off you ask?  Since it's 5 AM and I've been awake since 3:00 AM, the first thing I can think of that needs to be off is my brain.  But then I glance to my side and see the tooth fairy has left Thing 1 some money for the loss of another tooth.  Upon realizing that today we will go meet her new 4th grade teacher at her new school, I also would like to switch off the "growing up" button on my kids.  Add to that the 11 year old dog beside me who apparently can't see very well anymore as shown by her amazing ability to trip me at random times since she can't see me walking by, then I want to shut off the "growing old" button.

Wonder what it would be like to have that power---the power to stop things you want to stop from happening.  Yesterday morning a close friend's dad died. I knew this dad well and shared many great talks together.  As the broken heart spoke through my friend's voice, I wished I could have shut off that pain.  That led to the day my dad died and all the memories came flooding in since I truly knew what Bret was feeling at that moment---loss, fear, fatigue, numbness. The vision of my father's face after he died with one solitary tear running down his cheek resurfaced and once again, I was back at that hospital bedside, the same one Bret was at that very moment.  This is one memory I would also like to "shut off."

On the same day the sadness for losing Don was strong, I also had an amazing lunch with one of my favorite people in the world who was visiting Sioux Falls. His life is beautiful, and yet, his heart is also broken in so many ways, by people who should be celebrating every day of life with him, instead of avoiding it.  I wanted to stop those moments from happening in his world, reassure him of his unbelievable worth and value to so many, yet the validation he needs isn't from me. I want to remove the blinders from those in his world wearing them and turn off the power those blinders carry with them.

Unless I've been given some magical power, obviously I have no power to stop anything from entering my mind. I do have the power to deal with the things that enter it and the strength over the negative ones to turn them into positive ones. Yet, I struggle to do that, especially at this time of year when I'm preparing to return to the classroom so visions of students, lesson plans, bulletin boards, standards, grading, and excitement dance in my head.  Really hard to shut those babies down. So what does one do at times like these?  Yes, pray.  Yes, try to think it through so it stops. Maybe self medicate so one can sleep. Cry? Talk? (This one is hard to do unless it's the dogs I talk to since there are two little Things snoring away beside me right now.)  Apparently, write is one of my answers.

I just want everything to be okay.  No pain.  No loss (not just of life, but loss of my babies who are growing too quickly). No insomnia (lack of sleep = serious illness for me).  Just. Stop.

Stupid dog. Or brilliant one?

When one hears a crash at 1:20 AM in her kitchen, instantaneous heart rate increase occurs, which makes it difficult to not freak out.  As I lie there, not moving but getting a cardio work out nonetheless, I wondered why my Golden, named Jersey wasn't barking her head off. As I slowly gained vision in my tired eyes, I realized Jersey was into something.  Now mind you, this isn't the first time this realization has hit me and my gut instinct is usually spot on.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen and flip on the big light, I see this dog with her snout buried into my brand new jar of peanut butter.  She ran like the dickens as soon as I set foot in the kitchen, but I could still hear her chops sticking together from her desire to down the peanut butter jar in minutes, knowing I would soon be appearing.

I picked up the jar, put the lid back on, went back to bed, ticked off of course knowing that peanut butter was now "dog pill peanut butter" but then was baffled as to how in the world the lid came off.  Assuming it was my fault for not tightening it, I took the blame.  But then I thought back and knew I had put it back on so couldn't quite grasp how this stupid dog got it off. Another reason for hidden cameras in my house.

Needless to say, I couldn't get back to sleep. I felt pretty mean and took the water away from her saying, "You got yourself into this mess, you can get yourself out."  But then gave in when I could only hear the sound that drives me crazy (think of someone with a mouth full of peanut butter trying to swallow without milk or water and add a bunch of smacking noises and you have the sound I despise).  This led to having to take the dog out three additional times after this event. Sigh. The dog is cute and kind or she would be gone.  Can't wait to see what adventures today will bring with a tired mama and a peanut butter-filled dog.

Morning rituals.

I so wish I was more of a morning person.  I think I could be given the right circumstances (like living in a place where the mountains are on one side of me and the ocean on the other) I wouldn't mind getting up at the buttcrack of dawn and enjoying the quiet moments that are few and far between in my world.

Summer will definitely be hard to come out of next week.  My girls have been given my "love" of mornings, too so it will probably be ugly around here for a few weeks.  What cracks me up is Thing 2 in the morning.  First off, she still sleeps with me and probably will for the rest of her life at this rate.  I'm okay with it, although there are moments, like this morning, when I realized I literally had six inches of the queen bed simply because she was once again, on top of me or my shoulder or my back if it's turned toward her.  She has this need to always touch me at night and know I've not gone anywhere, which is enduring, yet annoying. But I digress.

When I try to sneak out of bed, it's like a sound goes off in Thing 2's head and she instantly sits up, looks at me, smiles (love this so much) and says, "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, please."  I turn on the tv to Mickey and then I can escape while she watches or goes back to sleep.  It has become ritual, which isn't a bad one considering I have to get ready for work and need something to entertain her so she isn't in the shower with me, too.

Thing 1 on the other hand....she's snoozing away.  I believe the tweener is almost alive in her as she now hates to get up in the mornings and she was the only existing member of this household who would rise and shine without grumbling.  Now, not so much.  I believe she will be the most effected by the week ahead of us where I go back to work and she will head to school.

My ritual?  Simply doing what it takes to get from Point A to Point B on time with all children in tow. And now, I'm ready to go back to bed after being awake for two hours.  Ah, school.....you shall be an interesting transition!

Dear God.....

I try to instill in my munchkins a love for God and a respect for the things we have in this world as a gift from Him.  Thus, we pray before meals as often as possible (it would be a lie to say we always did, but we're trying).   Thing 2 is now talking quite a bit at the ripe old age of 3 and she really likes to repeat the prayers we do as a family.  It's rather cute, I must admit and very heartwarming to hear those little voices thanking God and asking for forgiveness.

Before I tell you the prayer, let me fill you in on our day. It was an amazing day outside, so I figured it was time we took the pool down since it had now become a fluorescent green color from the algae growing on the bottom since we hadn't run the filter nor put chemicals in for a week AND I left the cover off while we were in Omaha.  In addition, there was yard work that needed to be done (have I mentioned the deep hatred I have for lawn work after doing it alone for 20 years?).  So, the girls rolled up their sleeves, literally, and helped me scrape the algae (clothes are now soaking in OxyClean simply because they couldn't just stand in the pool---both had to eventually fall into the pool filled with algae), empty the pool and rinse things off.

Following that we trimmed ferns.  On top of hating lawn work, I hate ferns and the families before me in this house obviously loved them.  So, I cut the suckers off.  The girls were responsible for picking up the cut ferns, which they did while singing and acting out parts of The Diamond Castle, a Barbie movie where the two main characters raise flowers for income.  Quite comical for me to listen to as I worked like a diehard.  In the midst of it all, my Golden Retriever Jersey caught a very small bunny and in one bite, killed it, complete with the removal of its eyeball with that bite (only pointed out by Thing 1 who freaked out at this point.)  In the midst of the fern cutting, I found the dead rabbit's brother or sister who began running from us and ran right off a five foot drop onto the concrete.  I presume it will either be a major brain damaged rabbit if it survives or it won't survive the night, but once again, Thing 1 freaked out worried about it so I picked it up gently with glove on hand and placed it near its nest.  In the meantime, Jersey was going crazy trying to get yet another rabbit to so proudly bring to me with eyeball askew.

So, to the prayer.  After bathing the bejeebers out of the girls and putting their green stained clothes in OxyClean, I made supper. Thing 1 led the prayer tonight and this was it:

"Dear God.  Thank you for our cute, sexy mom who made this supper for us.  Forgive us for killing two of your baby bunnies.  Please watch over our family and friends.  We love you. Amen."  The best part....hearing Thing 2 trying to say cute, sexy mom......lol.....

Soap never worked for me, either.

It has become quite apparent that my three year old is going to have the mouth of a sailor.  She does everything with energy and fervor so it's not like I'm surprised since it seems like the passionate tend to have the swearing thing down much sooner than those less "fervent."  This morning she called me a dummy, and within a second of it leaving her lips, followed it with a "Sorry, Mom."  Then she scurried away full speed and continued playing.  I've obviously dealt with her saying that word before since her immediate response, manipulative as it was, was to apologize.  Smart kid.

Fast forward three hours.  I had just left them to work upstairs and they are playing dolls and shopping, etc. in the basement but I can hear every word they utter.  Thing 2 suddenly is yelling about her Polly Pockets not having pants. I hear Thing 1 say, "Knock it off she doesn't need pants."  Thing 2 yells, "She needs pants, bitch!"  I stopped dead in my tracks since I hadn't heard that particular word leave her mouth ever.

Thing 1 asks, "Did you just call me a bitch?"

Thing 2 says nothing. Thing 1 repeats the question.

Thing 2 says, "Yes. I need pants."

Thing 1 says, "Well, that's a bad word and I may have to tell Mom on you."

Thing 2 responds, "Sorry, Sissy. I won't say it more."

And there ya have it. I didn't intervene since all that would cause at the moment would be me dealing with Thing 2 and punishing her and having her manipulatively say sorry only to use the word again when it most fits her mood. I'm no "dummy."  It isn't going to stop her just like soap didn't stop me from saying bad words. (I learned to mumble them from the first soap episode on as did Thing 1 when she had her first bad word episode.)

Another milestone reached in the family.  The B word has been said by both of the princesses.  Thing 1 said it when she a year older, but she said it to me.  I told her to go to sleep.  Her response: "I don't want to, bitch."  Of course, she really didn't know what she was saying and I honestly had no way to track where she had heard that word (I do swear on occasion, but mostly never around little ears.)  Once she knew it was a bad word, she used it to her benefit from there on out, but mostly, as mentioned before, under mumbling circumstances so her ever-aging mother couldn't decipher it (or so she thought).  Thing 2 said it because I'm sure she has heard it from Thing 1 or possibly on tv or in a moment of weakness, from me, maybe.

Thing 2 has had this unique way of bringing out the worst in me. The kid never stops. Ever.  Now that she talks, it's become increasingly harder to be patient. And understanding.  And pro-active instead of re-active.  This is seriously the toughest job ever...being a parent.  It's not that I'm doing it alone that makes it hard.  It's just that I'm doing it, period.  I think it'd be easier to not do it, like many do.  Just let the kids do as they please and be the pal they need in life instead of insisting they do what is right (which is usually what is hard) and doing what is good for them (again, usually what is hard).  But I don't want that kid.  I want the kid who has manners, is pleasant to be around, loves others no matter who they are, and most importantly, knows God deeply.  Tough row to hoe (being a former hoe-er, I understand this statement more than most.).

As I was sitting and sighing and pondering how to handle Thing 2 and her antics, I decided to open my blogroll and Max Lucado's entry spoke directly to me.  Maybe you need to hear it, too.

“He is able . . . to run to the cry of . . . those who are being . . . tested.”  Hebrews 2:18 AMP

Jesus was angry enough to purge the temple, hungry enough to eat raw grain, distraught enough to weep in public, fun loving enough to be called a drunkard, winsome enough to attract kids, . . . radical enough to get kicked out of town, responsible enough to care for his mother, tempted enough to know the smell of Satan, and fearful enough to sweat blood . . .

Whatever you are facing, he knows how you feel.

All in good time.....which isn't MY time.

Grandma is here for a few days.  My girls adore their grandma and when she is here, being held captive by a 3 and 9 year old, I believe she loves it, too.  I also believe she is quite exhausted by the end of the day since she gets the pleasure of playing Calico Critters, Barbie, baby dolls, and tea parties.  Amazing she is going to be 79 in a few weeks.

One of the most amusing things I've had the privilege of listening to the last couple days is mom trying to convince Thing 2 that she must go on the potty.  I do believe she's tried almost every line I have tried and has pretty much had the same results as I have......no success.  Thing 2 is not afraid to simply tell you she will not use the potty no matter what you say to her. But, Grandma isn't going to be beaten by a 3 year old. (I smirk, only because I know better.)

My children are quite phenomenal in most areas and I can say that because I've had relatively nothing to do with it. Thing 2 will figure out this potty thing when she is darn good and ready.  She has her own opinions on it and although she insists she will not wear a diaper to her prom, she still enjoys it enough to stay in it.  Case closed.  Diapers it will be and when she decides, I will then move on to the next phase of figuring out where every bathroom is when we are out shopping since I seem to remember a few times the bladder gave out on Thing 1 while we were shopping.

Maybe it is good advice to savor each phase a child goes through for what it is simply because the next one really isn't going to be any better.  And speaking of time, my children are currently making a list of things to get Grandma for her birthday in a few weeks.  So far I've heard a chicken, high heels, gum, and a new car.  Sounds like we'll be brainstorming for awhile.....