tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890124622305112482024-03-13T05:48:18.228-07:00Confessions of a Big Mouthed MomThis is my blog. I can't promise that I will update it every day, or even every week, but I will do my best.
I can promise to tell you how I feel, about anything, and sometimes everything. You will hear about my kids, my husband, my life, and the state of affairs in the world today, all from my perspective, be it interesting, entertaining, or not sometimes. Happy reading, and thanks for dropping by.Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.comBlogger374125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-13093542003017057392017-12-05T20:36:00.000-08:002017-12-05T20:36:15.199-08:00Teachers Aren't MeanI'm going to share something that I hope doesn't get people upset.<br />
I know, as a parent, we hear about "mean" teachers all the time. You know those teachers that yell, a lot. Those teachers that don't seem to let their kids wiggle an inch without being all over them.<br />
<br />
I get it now.<br />
<br />
I mean, I know there are exceptions to every rule and sometimes, there may be a person out there who really is mean. It happens. We all wish it didn't, but it does. I'm not talking about those people who end up on the news, because they are generally bad people, I'm talking about your every man or woman teacher who seems just to be grumpy with the kids.<br />
<br />
This year in my troop, I have about 32 girls. I have parents in the room with the troop and I, but let's be honest, there are many days where I feel likes its me versus them.<br />
It isn't that I think we have an adversarial relationship. I love those girls. Its that I feel like I'm fighting the ocean sometimes. I have good control. I can usually keep them quiet, but this year, it feels a little more overwhelming than it ever has before.<br />
I have a few that I Think are trying to give me a coronary. I isn't that they are bad, but that they can't be still. I mean, we meet right after school. Those kids are tired of still. Unfortunately, our programming needs some still in it. It also needs some quiet. Let me tell you how well that works.<br />
It doesn't.<br />
I try to adapt, but I swear there is only so much i can do.<br />
We use a call and response for me to snap them back to attention. Its one of those things where I yell something, and they yell something back. We have a million of them, but my favorite is:<br />
me: "Hocus Pocus"<br />
Them "Everybody Focus".<br />
Its cute, right? <br />
Until the 15th time in a single hour. <br />
Then, I get that the magic in my hocus and my pocus is just gone.<br />
<br />
At that point, and on days like today, where I have seriously told one child to leave the P.E. teacher's bones alone no less than 5 times, separated 3 groups of kids, and found myself with a buddy (aka you cant sit by anybody but me today) all within an hour and a half that I totally get the "mean" teachers.<br />
They can't help it. They aren't mean, they are tired. <br />
They aren't mean, but they are sure that if they give an inch, someone is going to take that inch and find a way to turn it into a mile of crazy. <br />
They are frustrated.<br />
<br />
See, I'm in this position because we don't have enough volunteer parents. Like I said, I have parents in the room, I am required to, but I'm talking about parents that want to get into the thick of things and really volunteer. So, I take all comers, hold on for dear life, and hope for the best. It isn't always what i would want, but at least they get something instead of nothing. <br />
<br />
Teachers are in this position because no one who decides how many kids in a class is appropriate has ever stood in front of 27 kids who just don't get what you are putting down and you are the one who has to figure out how to feed it into 27 different minds with different learning styles simultaneously, while dealing with those kids who have special needs, kids who have home life problems, kids who need to wiggle and jump, and so on, and so on. <br />
I would be mean, too. Every day of my life. <br />
I remember when I was in elementary school, we had like 20 kids, at most, to a class, and there was a teacher's assistant. Remember those wonderful ladies? They did the prepwork, helped out kids who needed it, and so on. <br />
No, forget the assistant, and in some schools parents aren't even allowed in any more. <br />
<br />
I think, if we want to find ourselves without mean teachers, we need to refocus and change our thinking. It isn't a problem with the people we are hiring (exceptions noted), but with the conditions we put them in. <br />
I don't want to be a mean Scout leader, but I also don't want to have to yell "macaroni" (the correct response from my girls is "Cheese") 25 times in an hour to try to bring some semblance of peace back into a room.<br />
<br />
We, as a society need to really take the time to tell our elected officials what we want in our schools, and even more importantly, we need to urge them to find ways to pay for it. I know that is a whole other post, but I really think our kids and our teachers are worth it. <br />
<br />
Think about it. If you could pay an extra $100 a year in a tax that went just for schools to be able to keep there from being "mean" teachers any more, wouldn't you? I would. No doubt. If in that hundred you can also find me an assistant troop leader, that would be great. My girls and I would all appreciate it, greatly. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-41874613674339678102017-01-31T20:19:00.003-08:002017-02-01T05:42:01.834-08:00Old Age is Hard on Scouts I am writing this blog as a plea to the general, cookie buying, public. I know those cute little girls in the blue and brown Girl Scout uniforms are hard to resist when they ask you to buy cookies. I know those big doe eyes on a 5 year old make it impossible to say no. I know because I have one. I'm glad their cuteness works and you stop to buy a box of cookies even if you don't want it.<br />
In our troop, we are thankful for every box sold. I want to ask you, though, please, please, don't pass up the older girls. Teenagers are hard. I know, I have one of those, too. As a troop leader, its even harder to keep the older girls engaged. They have so much more to do between school work, many after school activities, and having a normal teenage social life. So, to see them continue to invest in a program that is teaching them to be strong women who will change the world makes my heart soar. The Biggest One is now a Cadette in Scouts. She wears the tan uniform, usually with a cat ear headband, and she looks like she is 15, even though she isn't. She is smart, funny, and driven. She already has a plan for her life that I wish I had at her age. This year, she is implementing that plan by going to a special camp where she will start as a councilor in training. Her plan is, by the time she turns 16, be a junior camp counselor, and at 18, be a Girl Scout camp counselor all through college each summer for her summer job to help pay for books.<br />
The thing is, this camp is expensive. Even more so than a normal scout camp. In fact, most of her activities are more expensive as an older scout. So each and every one of those boxes of cookies she sells are vitally important to her. She needs to raise the money to be able to get to her camp, learn more about astronomy with trips to the closest observatory, as she is still trying to decide between astronomy and microbiology as degree and career path (she is leaning toward microbiology as she wants to be able to research lupis and find a cure or treatment that actually works). Knowing that she needs to sell more, she works harder. She works with every one of those little doe eyed girls and shows them how to sell cookies. She teaches and trains them like a champ. After all, she has been selling since she was a little doe eyed 5 year old. She is willing to go house to house for hours. She will work every single booth sale I allow her, in between play practice on weekends and all county band. Even with all that hard work, she can't sell as many as the cute little girls do. For some reason, it is easier to say no to the older girls. I guess you think they can take it. The last time she went door to door, she went to street after street, and only sold 5 boxes. Hours of work for 5 boxes. She was ready to go out for more, though. She wants that sale. Same thing happens at both sales. I pair her with a little one as often as I can so that the sales are higher for her. She knows it, too, but she doesn't let it stop her. I respect that drive, and I wish every one out there would, too.<br />
So, the next time a girl in a tan uniform knocks on your door, please open it and consider buying a box. If they are still selling by the time they look like they are about to drive, it means they are strong, dedicated girls who will be the next leaders and game changers of our world. Consider that dedication, and buy a box, even though they don't have doe eyes, even though they may be as tall or taller than you, and even though they might wear cat ears when they ask. I promise it means as much if not more than the box you buy from the cute little bitty ones. Don't stop buying from the cute little ones, either. I'm just saying, a scout is a scout, and consider your purchase equally. After all, I have three girls, from the cute little doe eyed one in a blue uniform, to a middle aged (for scouts) girl in the Girl Scout green uniform, up to my oldest in the tan. She is almost as tall as me, which is another of her life goals, but don't let that stop you. Buy a box. Please. I promise she will say thank you.<br />
<br />
If you want to buy any boxes from any of my girls, you can buy from the littlest one <a href="https://digitalcookie.girlscouts.org/scout/chloe764133">here</a>.<br />
<br />
You can buy from the middle one (she is pretty cute, too, though I didn't get to talk much about her in this blog) <a href="https://digitalcookie.girlscouts.org/scout/ava294224">here</a>.<br />
<br />
And last, but not least at all, the biggest one <a href="https://digitalcookie.girlscouts.org/scout/lillith680617">here</a>.<br />
<br />
No matter who you buy from, what council, what age of girl, I appreciate each of you who buy cookies, and please, don't forget that if you can't eat them, you can treat them to members of the military by donating cookies. (Cookie donations to the military are also tax deducible if your into that kind of thing!!)<br />
<br />
Thanks again, and try the new S'mores cookie.Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-56364106100787538212016-01-08T21:27:00.000-08:002017-02-01T17:32:37.830-08:00The Day She Foiled a Trumpet Theft On school days, The Biggest One gets out about an hour before Middie does. Her middle school is right in front of the elementary school. So, each school day, The Biggest One walks over to the elementary school when she gets out, and I meet her there. It makes pickup much easier and faster, and gives me an hour to work at school if I need to as part of my volunteer work. <br />
While we work, we always talk about her day. Today, I didn't have to go in, and we just sat in the truck, waiting for Middie to get out of school, and chatted. In the midst of all this, she starts to tell me a story. One of her good friends is a boy we shall call Crush (because he has one on her). Crush is a very nice kid. We have had him over to the house to hang out. He has asked her to a dance. She isn't allowed to go on any dates yet, but they still hang. There is a great back story, but suffice to say, he really seems to like her, and she thinks he is super sweet. Totally appropriate for 12 year olds. Anyway, they walk around together at school when they can. Crush plays a trumpet in the band, just as The Biggest One does. His trumpet was stolen at school. His dad, also a very nice guy, had to come into school this week because of it. <br />
Its been a thing. <br />
Today, as they were leaving the school, Crush say to The Biggest One that he really wishes his trumpet hadn't been stolen. As they walk, suddenly, The Biggest One sees an 8th grader carrying what she thinks is Crush's trumpet. She tells him so. Now, to give you a little more necessary background, Crush is on the short side. He hasn't hit that growth spurt boys get sometime soon yet. He is probably three or four inches shorter the The Biggest One, and she isn't that tall. It only relevant for context, and you want that context. The 8th grader is Crush's opposite. Big Kid. Crush walks up to the kid, and calls him out for having the trumpet. The kid starts yelling that no, no it wasn't Crush's. The Biggest One, in all her hot headed glory, isn't having it. She sees the escalation, and jumps in. She goes over and starts to yell at the massive 8th grader. Now, its a show down. When the kid denies that the trumpet belongs to Crush, she immediately says "Then why is his name written all over it?" She wasn't backing down, and believe me, she is fierce when she is protecting someone she cares about. The kid knows the jig is up. He drops the trumpet and runs. <br />
The Biggest One and Crush get the trumpet, and head off to the band room. <br />
The story goes on. Teachers and parents involved. Ultimately, though, she caught the thief, and protected her friend. That is just who she is. She knows no fear, which isn't always good, when it comes to jumping in for her friends. I love who she is. I'm proud of her today, and every day!Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-14172730007255244562014-11-19T18:08:00.000-08:002014-11-19T18:08:51.662-08:00The progressive Suckiness of A Mother’s Night:<div class="MsoNormal">
1)One of your amazing kids has a stomach virus with both
ends going.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2) One of your amazing kids has a stomach virus with both
ends going. They flood their bathroom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
3) One of your amazing kids has a stomach virus with both
ends going. They flood their bathroom
and they don’t tell you until the bathroom is totally flooded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
4) One of your amazing kids has a stomach virus with both
ends going. They flood their bathroom
and they don’t tell you until the bathroom is totally flooded. You finally get the entire thing cleaned up,
wash you hands, and go to dry them thinking you are done.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
6) One of your amazing kids has a stomach virus with both
ends going. They flood their bathroom
and they don’t tell you until the bathroom is totally flooded. You finally get the entire thing cleaned up,
wash you hands, and go to dry them thinking you are done. As soon as you touch the hand towel, you feel
that it is soaking wet and you instantly realize that the same amazing kid
tried to clean it up themselves, which is why they didn’t tell you immediately,
and then hung the hand towel back up on the bar. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
7)One of your amazing kids has a stomach virus with both
ends going. They flood their bathroom
and they don’t tell you until the bathroom is totally flooded. You finally get the entire thing cleaned up,
wash you hands, and go to dry them thinking you are done. As soon as you touch the hand towel, you feel
that it is soaking wet and you instantly realize that the same amazing kid
tried to clean it up themselves, which is why they didn’t tell you immediately,
and then hung the hand towel back up on the bar. You start cleaning again.</div>
Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-81412724080945528762014-09-24T19:24:00.000-07:002014-09-25T20:15:38.027-07:00The Most Conflicted LossToday, my older sister passed away. <br />
<br />
I'm not sure what to do with everything I feel. So, I thought I would give it to you, the universe, etc, and hopefully let it go. <br />
<br />
My older sister is really my older half-sister. Sometimes that half matters, and sometimes it doesn't.<br />
<br />
For us, that half meant she wasn't raised with us, and was raised by a mother who chose to lie about our father. Her mother told her that our father was an alcoholic, and that was why she divorced him. She said that he used to beat them. She said they were poor, while we were raised with everything, because he didn't want to take care of her. <br />
<br />
All of it was lies. The truth is that they were divorced because she chose to cheat on him, and he caught her. So, he filed for divorce. The truth is that my dad was is a pretty rough guy, but he never was an alcoholic. He didn't get drunk like that. I'm not going to lie and say he was perfect, far from it, but I can tell you that what she said was far from the truth. We weren't rich, either. Her mom was just money hungry. We grew up with very little by the time my dad paid child support for her, and took care of the three of us,and our mom. We wore hand me downs. My mom can make a meal out of nothing. Seriously. The woman has an unbelievable talent for being cheap. Most of all, my Dad did want to take care of her. he gave my sister the choice of living with us, but she wanted to stay with her mom.<br />
That choice was poison. <br />
She was raised to see bad things. So, she saw them. She let that affect her relationships with all of us for the rest of her life. She was always distant. <br />
<br />
In college, I tried. I went to school close to the salon she owned. It was very, very highly thought of. All the drag queens in the area went to her to help them get started. She was someone in that town. I would go to her shop, where she also lived in the top floors of her building, after my classes, and i would spend time with her. I wanted that big sister relationship that we never had. <br />
<br />
It didn't work though. Time goes on. <br />
Eventually, I washed my hands of it. <br />
I quit when she would tell me that she wanted to see my child, and then didn't show. That was it. You could break my heart, but you can't break hers. <br />
She saw Middie only once, when she was very small, at my brother's wedding. <br />
She never met The Littlest One. <br />
Ever. <br />
We have lived in state for two years, and I haven't seen her since we came back.<br />
These are the choices we make in life. <br />
I realize that she was raised negatively, but eventually, we all become adults and have to make our own choices. <br />
I chose to quit beating myself up over it. I chose to finally move on. <br />
Then, she died. <br />
All those friends that she used to have, the ones she chose over us, weren't around. <br />
In fact, no one was there. My parents were on their way. Her mom and other half sister, with whom she did have a relationship, weren't in the room.<br />
She quit. <br />
She had been battling problems for a while. <br />
I think her demons were just stronger than her this time. Sometimes, that is how it is. Sometimes the demons are stronger than us and they win.<br />
<br />
I had been checking in nearly constantly to see how she was doing, and then the phone rang. My mom said she was gone. Done. Over. <br />
I was really angry when mom called. <br />
I am angry with my sister for giving up on us. I'm hurt that she threw us away. I'm livid with her mom for poisoning her for all those years, and robbing me of the big sister relationship I never got to have. <br />
It hurts. I'm sad. I'm sad for my kids who will never know her laugh, or big blonde hair. They won't get to have their hair done by her for their weddings.<br />
I'm mourning. In all honesty, though, its the relationship that was never there that I mourn the most. I'm really heart broken over the fact that it will never be. <br />
I'm sure I will go to her memorial service, because I want to be there with my dad. I want to give him a kiss on the cheek, and tell him that I know the truth about who he is, and even though he isn't perfect, I would never throw him away. <br />
<br />
So, I lost a sister today, and its complicated. Please, don't offer to send something, or do something. Please, don't try to pressure me to be more upset for you than I feel like I need to be in the moment, because I'm really not sure how to feel. A simple,"That sucks" will be fine. I'll appreciate it. It does suck. <br />
Also, I'm probably calling into work Friday (for my volunteer jobs). So, if you could just excuse that with out any ado, that would be awesome. I'll let you know if I need anything else. <br />
<br />
I'm leaving you with a picture that I do love, from when I was little. My sister and I, back when I used to think she was the coolest thing ever, and looked forward to every single time she came over like it was my birthday, even if she did accidentally pop my shoulders out of socket once. Something I can now do all the time thanks to her. This picture brings up the good memories, and this is what I'm choosing to keep. <br />
<br />
You will be missed. <br />
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<br />Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-15087837745238792282014-02-04T20:06:00.000-08:002014-02-18T20:09:32.547-08:00Dear Cancer, F*** You. Sincerely, Me (And Everybody else) I hate cancer. <br />
No. I F***ING HATE cancer. <br />
Yeah. That's much more like it. <br />
<br />
Why all the ire?<br />
Cancer sucks. Great big donkey balls.<br />
I have seen too many people I love, and just too many people in general have cancer.<br />
I have an Aunt who just had a total double mastectomy.<br />
My dad had skin cancer. <br />
My grandfather did as well.<br />
My great grandmother died of cancer at the age of 92. It wasn't her age, but the cancer that finally did her in. <br />
My mom's family is riddled with cancer.<br />
My mom is a breast cancer survivor, as I have written about before.<br />
<br />
I'm just hitting the tip of the iceberg, too, if I were to really delve into all the people I know that cancer has touched with its long, ugly, gnarly, blackened fingers. <br />
Right now, I have a friend who is about to start chemotherapy for breast cancer. She is a wonderful person. <br />
She isn't post menopausal. She isn't even in that age range. Her body just decided to turn against her. <br />
What are we, as women supposed to do? I look in the mirror all the time, and note that my chances this becoming my future are very high. Very.<br />
There really aren't a lot of options if this is likely your future. You can go the preventative route.<br />
We have another good family friend who did just that. Her mother, one of my own mother's very best friends in life, had breast cancer. She passed away at a much younger age than she should have. So, her daughter decided not to wait for this to be her future. The Drs suggested a preventative double mastectomy, and she did it. She wanted to be sure. Its becoming common to take such steps, too. <br />
I could do genetic testing, find out, and go from there, but the kind of cancer that runs in our family causes more than just breast cancer. I couldn't lop enough organs off to stop everything that will try to kill me, if I am predisposed. <br />
My friend who just started her fight has two beautiful boys who are close in age to The Big Girls, each one of hers being a year younger than mine. <br />
Now, they have to watch mom go through cancer treatments. <br />
No child should need to watch that. <br />
Moreover, no child should have to go through cancer treatments themselves, but it happens all the time.<br />
Yes, I am filled with anger and questions because of all this. The big question, though, is what do we do from here? How do we stop this? So much money is being thrown at a cure, but what about the cause?<br />
Has it always been this bad and we didn't know it, or are we killing ourselves somehow now? <br />
Something needs to be stopped. Somewhere, we need to recognize what has changed to cause our bodies, our breasts that are meant to sustain life, in to weapons that will take it in an instant. <br />
<br />
I'm not sure where the answer to all of this lies, but someone, somewhere, must. We have to do something. I love all of the beautiful survivors that I have in my life, but I don't want to add any more people to the list of those touched by cancer. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-10453772581722443602014-01-16T18:27:00.000-08:002014-01-16T18:27:49.074-08:00If You Have to Hide To Be Hatefull, Don'tI was saddened to learn today about the passing of Cassandra Lynn Hensley. You might have seen it on TMZ, or somewhere else on the web. She was a Playboy Playmate, a beautiful girl, and also an acquaintance. <br />
We actually had a mutual very good friend, and it was through this friend that I met Cassandra. All three of our families made a very memorable trip to Disneyland once. Yeah. I went to Disney with a Playmate. Not, I'm sure, the first think most people think of. <br />
That is reality, though. She wasn't all done up in her makeup and such. She was there with her daughter and we were celebrating a birthday. Again, reality. People who are in the public eye are still real people, with families, husband, children, etc. <br />
Cassandra wasn't perfect, but back to the whole reality thing, no one is. <br />
So, when I began to see articles about her online, I was shocked at the horrible things people were saying. I do mean horrible. <br />
This was a tragedy. Regardless of how it happened, it was still a tragedy. <br />When Cory Monteith died, people wept. They celebrated his life on television multiple times. <br />
However, when a beautiful young woman died in a seemingly similar manor, the claws came out. <br />
The anonymity the internet provides let people rip her to shreds, just because. Probably because they are jealous of her beauty. Probably because they made a lot of assumptions. Probably most of all, though, because they feel the need to dig at other people to make themselves feel better inside. <br />
<br />
These people didn't know Cassandra. Admittedly, I didn't know her well, either, but to think of being so disrespectful to anyone who died like that just blew me away.<br />
<br />
Those of you that wrote the nasty comments, so vile and full of vitriol, should look deep down inside yourself. When you do, I hope those comments make you feel as ugly as you looked online. You are shameful trolls. <br />
The first one of you who is perfect, who hasn't ever made a mistake can be the first one to condemn her now. Go ahead. By all means. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.<br />
<br />
I don't see any rocks flying. <br />
<br />
Cassandra was a daughter, a wife, and a mother. Many people loved her dearly, and those people are hurting. I mourn for her loved ones. I am saddened by the tragedy. I pray that none of you find yourself in a bad situation, and pass. Should you, I also pray that no one is so disrespectful to you in death that it would hurt your family as they try to move on. <br />
<br />
Cassandra was a beautiful girl, inside and out. I hope she has peace now, and I hope somehow her family and loved ones can find peace as well. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-53705953379968677792014-01-03T16:20:00.003-08:002014-02-18T19:57:42.980-08:00I DARE You to Protest MeI got a really interesting email from my local Girl Scout Council today. Apparently, someone out there is trying to make a stink about how Girl Scouts supports abortion. <br />
Right. <br />
Totally. We talk about it every day. I personally try to sneak in as much about abortion into our curriculum as I possibly can. I teach them how to plant a seed, and then deceptively tell them its ok to pluck the seed if it sprouts up when you don't want it.<br />
<br />
No. Wait. We DON"T do that at all. In fact, one of the things that I LOVE most about Girl Scouts is their policy of having no policy. See, Girl Scouts keeps that idea that some conversations are better left to each family, and have no place in Scouting. This topic being on of them. <br />
That makes me happy as a parent, not just a scout leader. <br />
Girl Scouts adheres to the basics, supporting your community, growing up to be a strong, self confident your lady, things like that. Everything else is left up to each parent. <br />
<br />
The email I received in a way, let us know that people might try to talk to us about these views at cookie booth sales. The letter said that we didn't need to talk back, but we could if we wanted to, and it give us a direct link to the online post causing the stir, as well as the real information on the official policy. Basically, it let us know that we may encounter protests. At a cookie booth sale. <br />
Seriously.<br />
No. Really.<br />
<br />
So, here is what I have to say to all those who might want to protest.<br />
1. Leave my girls alone!! <br />
You want to see me go momma bear, go after my cubs. (I know we aren't Cub Scouts, but I thought that would be cute here.) Every single one of the girls in my troop becomes mine the moment they join. You will not harm them in any way, that includes scaring them. Nope. <br />
2. If you do want to engage, you engage me. Just me. I will respond. I will be prepared. I will let you know in no uncertain terms that you are not only ignorant of the truth, but totally absurd for believing that Scouts would actually teach something like that. <br />
3. Recognize that the entire purpose of Girl Scouts is to raise strong young women who will stand up for themselves and what they believe in. The Biggest One is a prime example. Since she is mine, I'll let you try this one out. Go ahead and tell her that you think Scouts is teaching her to murder children. Then, be prepared for the wrath that ensues. In that moment, I'll give her a pass on respecting her elders. <br />
4. One other "little" belief you may have missed is that we support God and country. I think you will find, at least in this area, that many of the families of my girls are rooted in the Christian faith. So, you are totally barking up the wrong tree here. <br />
<br />
Some people have lost sight of Jesus in the name of Christianity. If you think for a moment that the right thing to do is to go after a group if Girl Scouts in regards to abortion, then you may as well go join the Westboro Baptist Church. That is their mentality. If you think for a moment that it is ok to scare small children, then you are the one who deserves judgement, not a parent who is working to help her child go to camp. <br />
What you need to do is sit in on a Scout meeting. See what we really do and who we really are. My girls are awesome. The other ladies I work with are awesome. My goal at every single meeting and in between is to do anything I can to support them in reaching their full potential. I want them to learn. I want them to grow. I want to see the amazing people that they will become. <br />
<br />
I hope they are all life long scouts and are always just as proud of the organization as I am. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-15171557361740724922014-01-01T09:30:00.000-08:002014-01-02T08:48:32.701-08:00I Know We Just Met, But....I try really hard not to judge by first impression. I'm not perfect, though. As hard as a try, I often end up being judgmental in certain situations. I am, like many things, a work in progress. So, while I would like to say that upon first greeting, I liked 2014, which just started, I've got to say, its coming in like an a**sshole. <br />
Last year was pretty sucky for us. My husband got his dream job, and because of a medical conditional that is part of his 20 years of service to our country, lost it. He fought hard to get the condition fixed, a shoulder surgery. In fact, he fought since before he retired. A year after he retired, he was finally acknowledged by our esteemed government and the VA. Finally, he could get fixed. Then, we lost our insurance. Again, our beloved government saw fit to play take back with the benefits he earned and was promised. The government is playing bully and has decided to pick on Veterans, and we seriously felt it last year. Sadly, (I swear I didn't mean for this to turn into a political rant) they aren't done yet, and have even decided to start to screw with the guys who are still in. <br />
Anyway, The fantasticness of this past year didn't end with just being on the losing end of a Congressional Budget (Thanks, guys! I'll see you at poll time!). The Biggest One managed to break her wrist. Not just break it, but blow it out to the point that the specialist was totally impressed. Yeah. That's my girl. Oh, and to make it better, she did it just walking in Chuck E Cheese. Just walking. She fell, and Boom!<br />
My Husband did finally get his surgery. While good, as he won't be in pain anymore, it is costing us about a million half dollars. Ok. Not exactly, but let me assure you, our medical bills, between three kids, one of whom like to break bones, and a husband who is breaking after all of his years in the military, are making me sick. <br />
So, needless to say, I am pretty thrilled to be done with this year, and have been seriously hoping to see bigger and better things in the new year. <br />
However, 2014, thus far, in the very limited time we have had, hasn't been great. <br />
The Littlest One has a massive cancer sore in her mouth. It hurts. A lot. She cries. A lot. She can't eat and wants to be held. Yes, I have meds for her, but getting her to let me do anything that she suspects is like medicine is akin to trying to throw a cat in the bath tub. It hurts all of us and nothing ever really gets accomplished the way we want. Yesterday, I managed to get some of the numbing medicine in her mouth, but I have no idea where it went or what part of her mouth it touched. Then, she tried to throw up on me. So, I gave up. Regular kids acetaminophen is a two person job with her. One person has to hold her upside down while the other administers. Ok. We don't exactly hold her upside down, but you do hold her in a horizontal position with her head slightly tilted down so that she HAS to swallow, unless you want pink slimy vomit on you. Your choice, of course. <br />
I don't actually have two people here who are qualified to do that, either. My Husband's computer crashed. Actually, the power port on his laptop came loose. His laptop right now is imperative. I neglected to backup a copy of something that I was working on for the school, and that I have to get to a printer asap. So, he took the computer and ran to his family's house so that our BIL (and resident family computer guru) could fix it asap. So, we didn't even get to spend New Year's Eve together. He took Middie with him, who also got sick on the way. Then, the computer didn't even get fixed because the port couldn't be soldered back in, it needs to be replaced. <br />
Do you see the awesomeness going on here?<br />
Seriously. This all needs to go. Now. I think I'm going to give all this another day, and just pretend this today is part of last year, too. Hopefully things will begin to be a tiny bit better by then. I know the old superstition about whom ever you are kissing at midnight is who you will be kissing all year. I'm just hoping that doesn't also translate to having a super sucky time at midnight means a whole year of suck. Been there. Done that. And totally ready for less suck and more good stuff in the coming year. No. We are just going to say that 2013 was the a**hole year, and its going out painfully and slowly, like the true a**hole it was. I refuse to let it take 2014 down with it. No. We are kicking that a**hole year to the curb and going to make 2014 better, one way or another. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-68551329481411443972013-12-15T10:16:00.000-08:002013-12-15T10:16:13.679-08:00I Need to Get BackSo, I abandoned my blog for a while. I'm not sure why, but I'm unabandoning it with a very honest post.<br />
I think of this blog in many ways as my outlet, when I just need to anonymously vent about all things related in any way to parenting, or even my life. <br />
<br />
We have hit a new chapter in parenting, and frankly, I need to share out of nothing but sheer frustration.<br />
<br />
The biggest one is 10. I had no idea that 10-12 was so freaking difficult. It is. If you have girls, when you get to this age, if you don't drink, you will, and if you do drink, have someone start watching you to make sure you don't get out of hand. The stage is that hard. <br />
<br />
This weekend, we had a big troop sleepover. I'm not sure what started it, but something, somewhere set off a chain reaction with the big one that set off an atomic bomb of attitude, with a mushroom cloud of nasty behaviour that could be seen for miles. It was off the charts. I haven't seen her this bad since the last time her dad deployed and it got super ridic. <br />
I'm seriously at a loss. <br />
I managed to make it through the night. All the parents in my home saw her behaviour. I apologized. I vented a little. They empathized, but mostly, I was embarrassed and frustrated. There was nothing I could do in the moment with 20 girls in my home who needed to have a good time, and 1 who was determined not to. <br />
So, the dealing with it came the next day.<br />
Yesterday, for the first time ever, I made The Biggest One scrub the toilets. Seriously. I vowed a while back that this was the next direction her punishments would be going, and I stuck to it. Taking things away seemed to be doing nothing. Her arm has been broken (a story I need to blog about to catch you up anyway) for a while and she already lost out on her archery lessons until that is healed. So, I really needed a new effective deterrent that I could go with. <br />
Now, let me say that it was totally supervised, and frankly, I don't think there is anything harmful about cleaning a bathroom, at all, but at the age of 10, it sucks big time. She hated every single second of it with a passion. When we were all done, I ask her if she ever wanted to do that again. It was a resounding no. Then I told her to consider it every time she opened her mouth to be rude, every time she wanted to stomp out of a room, and so one. From now on, the response would be to clean a toilet. If you have crappy behaviour, you get a crappy punishment (see what I did there). I feel it fitting. <br />
Now, one of two things will happen, it will help some and she will think before she acts, or we will have the cleanest toilets in the world. Either way, I win. <br />
In all honesty, though, I'd much rather clean the toilets my self and have a daughter with improved behaviour. Really. In fact, I'll even take that for Christmas. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-57042931499509187322013-08-20T07:29:00.002-07:002013-08-20T07:29:52.561-07:00She Is Going to Get Me Put In JailAs we all know, or at least those of you who read my occasional blogging and those who actually know me in real life, The Biggest One is a bit of a klutz. I'm being nice there. <br />
I say it a million times: I love her just the way she is. She is, though, very absent minded and ditsy at times. She is very intelligent, just ditsy. It really does work that way, I swear. <br />
<br />
Last night, she managed another of her special moments, but one of the kind where she gets hurt. We now live in a split level ranch home. There are four stairs that go up to the bedroom area of our home. I was up in that hall way with The Littlest One, and I told The Biggest One, for what had to be the 10th time, to get ready for bed. She turned and started to walk down the stairs. The next thing I know, there is a massive thud, and she is sitting at the bottom. I did the momentary freak out while trying not to let them know I was freaking out thing. I ask if she was ok. She was startled and a little scared, but seemed to be mostly ok. I ask her what happened. <br />
She said she didn't see the bottom stair. She just missed it. Just like that. Oops. Didn't realize there were four there. That kind of thing. So, she crash landed at the bottom. <br />
These things happen with her. They do. The problem is that she hurts herself sometime. This time, she landed on her wrist. It hurt. It didn't swell. It didn't seem to be too painful, just painful when she used it. I told her to go to bed and it should be fine in the morning. Also, please bear in mind that this kid is a total wimp and over exaggerates any injury to the millionth degree. Seriously. <br />
So, this morning, her wrist still hurt sometimes. Again, only when she used it, etc, and mostly when people were around. <br />
Now, don't get me wrong, if it turns out she has some kind of tiny hair line fracture, I'll feel terrible, but I really think she is ok. She didn't want to use her wrist, though. She wants to be careful, swearing that it hurts.<br />
So, I had no choice but to write her teacher a letter. <br />
The moment I started writing "Last night, she fell down the stairs" it hit me. <br />
This kid is going to get me thrown in jail one day. As much as she falls down, misses stairs, etc, you would think I beat her. She, though, beats herself up. <br />
I groaned. I wasn't sure how to write the letter to make it sound least like an "I beat my child" letter. While it certainly isn't true, I don't want anyone to think that, and this teacher, since this is only the second week of school and she is new here, doesn't know us well enough yet to know, this is just The Biggest One. <br />
More than likely, she will ask what happened, at which time The Biggest One will get to tell this very dramatic tale about falling down a whole flight of stairs, and how she lay there, not sure if she should move, if she might have had a broken spine from the fall, and on and on. Then, hopefully her teacher will get it. The drama is all there. That's just who she is, and again, I love her just the way she is, dramatic jazz hands, missed stair injuries, and all.Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-37549612641381603652013-07-20T08:03:00.001-07:002013-07-20T08:03:31.140-07:00Oh, Boy Scouts, You Keep on Breaking My HeartYou know, I hate to say it, but the Boy Scouts just keep breaking my heart. <br />
I love Scouting. I really, really do. I see all the good it can do in a child's life, and I believe in that good. I want to see that good.<br />
It's hard, though, when the organization that is supposed to do all that good keeps doing things that make me sad. <br />
<a href="http://gma.yahoo.com/blogs/abc-blogs/obese-boy-scouts-banned-jamboree-195358725.html">The Boy Scouts have banned obese kids from their Jamboree this year</a>. This makes me very sad.<br />
<br />
I love Girl Scouts. I realize that no organization is perfect, it isn't possible, but Girl Scouts does so many things right. My girls love it. The Biggest One just came back from a week at camp, and she has decided that she wants to get her Gold Award, stay in scouts until she graduates from High School, and then work at the camp during the summer as her job when she isn't in school. She loves it that much. <br />
<br />
So, I looked at her, and told her, very basically, about what the Boy Scouts just did. I didn't tell her who had done it. I ask her if the Girl Scouts did this, how would she feel. She immediately started to tear up. Her heart broke. She said it was incredibly mean to leave people out like that. <br />
I let her know that Girl Scouts didn't really do that, but Boy Scouts did. We talked about it. The Biggest One thought that was a horrible thing to do. The Boy Scouts think that their new rule will be a motivational, and make the kids want to lose weight to go. So, I ask her, would she be willing to work harder to go to camp, if there was a rule like this that would affect her, mind you she isn't obese at all. She said it would make her not want to go to camp all together. She wouldn't even want to be a part of it. This, from the same child who just told me her goal was to be a part of that same camp forever. <br />
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See, Boy Scouts, you did it all wrong. How about letting the fat kids come, and then trying to get them to be healthy there. Did you also ban obese Scout Masters? I mean, if you want to set a good example, how about starting there?<br />
The Boy Scouts don't really have a good history with banning people. Perhaps they should have thought about how a ban on anyone worked out for them in the past, and considered the fact that bans on segments of your population tend to divide and not bring people together in a positive way. <br />
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Right now, I am doubly thankful for fact that I don't have to deal with all of this. Girl Scouts wants to bring us together, not tear us apart, and I love them for that. <br />
I sincerely hope that The Boy Scouts get things figured out quickly. Like I said, I love scouting. I love what it has the potential to do, and i would love to see that potential be brought back in all its glory with The Boy Scouts. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-77786697474642504182013-07-15T18:20:00.001-07:002013-07-15T18:41:45.614-07:00Update on the Netflix Situation aka Amazon rocksA while back I posted about Netflix totally screwing over their customers and giving up on a hole bunch of content. I was upset, and rightly so. <br />
We had considered going to red box streaming, but hadn't figured out how just yet with the limited devices they have. <br />
Then, it hit me, why not check out Amazon streaming? I mean, I knew they had it, I had just never paid attention to it before. <br />
Big mistake. <br />
I should have been looking there all along. <br />
We have an Amazon.com prime account, something I highly recommend. It absolutely pays for itself in our house. Now, I find out that streaming comes with it. You can watch a ton of things for free, or, if you want, you can even rent, or buy the new stuff before it is available for free. How awesome is that? We don't even have to go get movies from Redbox anymore! We can rent them right from Amazon!! <br />
I say a big Woot, woot to that!<br />
The kicker for me, though, is that the moment Netflix let their contract for all those Nickelodeon shows expire, Amazon picked them up. That means Dora on tap again!! Yeah!! And there was much rejoicing as the sounds of angels, or The Fiesta Trio, filled the air. Seriously. We already pay for prime. So this was incredible added value for us!! <br />
On top of that, Amazon is constantly adding current content to it's streaming, an area where Netflix lags seriously behind. Already, My Husband and I have found a new show we love to watch together on those rare nights we actually get to sit down and watch TV. Something we would have missed out on with Netflix.<br />
The ONLY down fall to Amazon's streaming thus far is that I can't get it on my phone yet. Sometimes, if we are desperate, The Girls have watched netflix on either of our phones or on the Kindle. Amazon won't stream to our phones, though I can stream, with a wireless connection, on the Kindle. I just don't happen to have one of those everywhere I go. I do have one on my phone. Other than that, I have to say that Amazon has made me one seriously happy consumer. Thrilled, actually. I'm so over companies that think they can do anything they want to consumers, and we will just take it. Don't let them. Seek alternatives. In this case, come join me at Amazon! Its totally worth it!<br />
<br />
P.S. In case anyone wonders, I am not paid in any way for my opinions here, I give them freely and liberally. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-65994596067272721912013-07-05T17:10:00.000-07:002013-07-12T21:13:55.923-07:00Thank you, Paula Deen, From The Bottom of My Southern Fried HeartThere are certain things, or people in this world that can easily move me to tears. My mom is one of those people. Without a doubt, I love my mom more than I could possible truly express in words, either written or spoken. She has done more for me than so many would ever be willing to do. She has given so much, and I don't mean things of monetary value, but things that are worth far, far more. <br />
So, when something upsets my mother, I take note. <br />
The other day, we were discussing the great Paula Deen witch hunt going on. I do believe it is a witch hunt. For whatever reason, people just want to take her down. I'm not saying she is perfect, but I believe that reactions should be appropriate, and not outlandish. It is, of course, one of those things that make you shake your head, but rarely do they have you truly emotionally upset, unless you are personally involved. <br />
My mother, it seems, does take it very personally. <br />
As we were discussing it, she became very upset. Her words were almost shocking to me. I had no idea how much she really likes Paula Deen. Paula Deen means a lot to my mom in ways that I never understood. <br />
Several years ago, my mom found out she had breast cancer. It was bad. She waited, though, until after I had given birth to her first grand child to allow any treatment to begin. She wouldn't even tell us what was going on. She, knowing that we had problems during the pregnancy, didn't want to take any chances of upsetting me. So, three days after her first grandchild was born, she had a partial mastectomy. After that, she started radiation and then Chemotherapy. She did radiation for a few months, but years of chemo. First a long bought of IV chemo, then pill form for years afterward. It was a tough battle, but one that she has been victorious in so far. She is a survivor. <br />
It was also during that time that Paula Deen really came up in the TV world. She was on TV all the time. My mom, who works for herself in a very small business, hadn't ever had the time to sit down and watch much TV, until then. She loved Paula on TV. Paula was joyous and happy when mom was struggling to keep that herself. She made great food, and my mom is a recipe addict. She was uplifting to my mom in a time when she desperately needed that, just by doing what she wanted to do and being herself. Paula Deen every day gave my mom something to look forward to when she wasn't allowed to leave the house, see her friends and family, or even go to church because her immune system had just bottomed out. <br />
Paula Deen became a sort of friend to my mom, just through the magic of television. <br />
Now, people have taken something that Paula Deen did years ago and blown it up beyond belief. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone. As Paula herself tried to say, and to paraphrase the Bible, let he who is without sin cast the first stone. <br />
She apologized. She says she has mended her ways. <br />
My mom says that as long as she meant it, then she should be forgiven. That is good enough for God and if it is good enough for God, it should be good enough for all of us. <br />
My mom believes in Paula Deen, and I believe in my mom.<br />
So, to Paula Deen, I want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart, Thank you for being there for my mom. Thank you for giving her joy in the hardest time of her life. I appreciate you now so much. Just like my mom, you may never know how many people's lives you have touch in ways that you will never know about. I'm glad you were there, though. <br />
Thank you.<br />
I hope you keep having your cooking classes. I would love to be able to send my mom one of these days. She would love it. <br />
I really hope you decide to self publish that cooking book that was supposed to come out. This is one I would buy two copies of, one for mom and one for me. <br />
I hope you come back, better than ever, so that you can be a great, smiling face that the world needs.<br />
Keep your head held high, and please keep on being you.<br />
And most importantly, thanks again, for all those smiles and laughs you gave my mom.<br />
<br />Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-50394592527064295112013-06-30T16:58:00.000-07:002013-07-12T16:59:04.018-07:00You Hateful Bunch of .....UUGGH(Alternative post title: "Don't ever go to CafeMom for support")<br />
<br />
I'm not sure how else to say this, but how dare you? How dare you be such a judgmental bunch of hateful people?<br />
Of course, I'm not speaking to everyone out there in the whole wide world. I'm speaking directly to those ass wholes (yes I said it) women out there who insist on tearing each other down for no good reason. <br />
<a href="http://www.cafemom.com/group/115189/forums/read/18722899/I_hate_being_a_mom_and_i_dont_like_motherhood_at_all?email_id=865574847&utm_medium=cmi&utm_source=cafemom&utm_campaign=General&utm_content=daily_newsletter&utm_nooverride=1">This is what I'm talking about</a>. <br />
<br />
Now, let me tell you, we all have tough days. There are many days where I have cried into my pillow at night. There are many times that I have hated how hard things are sometimes as a parent, but never would I lash out at someone for feeling like that. <br />
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What I would do is give this mom a big hug. Maybe suggest a mom's group which can make a world of difference in your mindset. Having other mom's tell you its ok and that we have all been there is something we all need to here from time to time. I might tell her to go see someone, too. I mean, parenting is hard, and sometimes we can all use a little help.<br />
<br />
However, these bitchy moms think what they need is to tear this mom down. What they need is a good smack of reality. Words hurt. A lot. When you are reaching out for help, they cut like a knife. <br />
<br />
These horrible women have wounded a kindred spirit for no good reason other than spite. <br />
To all of you judgement people like that, I hope you never have a bad day. I hope you never have a day when you need to complain about how awful moments in parenting can be. When you do have one, I hope you remember how hurtful you were. I'm sure you are far too self absorbed to realize any of that, though. So, even though you have done something terrible, i really hope that when you do have a bad day, because we all do, that someone shows you more kindness and mercy than you showed. The cycle has to stop. <br />
We teach our kids not to bully, and now it's time that the mommy circle learns the same thing. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-91071465835260620312013-06-06T16:40:00.000-07:002013-07-12T16:48:31.375-07:00I Could Have Sworn I Was Born Here......I'm going to give you all a little piece of unsolicited advice. You may do with it what you will, but if you choose to print this out and cram it somewhere, I don't need to know about it.<br />
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The advice I am going to give you is absolutly unoversal, and should you chose not to heed it, could make your life much more difficult.</div>
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Never. Ever. Assume you know where someone is from, where they were raised, how they were raised, or their background. Always let them, or facts, tell you. </div>
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Assumning you know someone will undoubtedloy get you into troiuble. Or fight at a PTA meeting.</div>
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Tonight, as I was being jumped on, I was told repeatedly that I didn't understand something because I wasn't from the Bible Belt. </div>
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Ummm........</div>
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Wrong.</div>
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I was born and raised in North East TN, which is much more of a Bible Belt than this is. I was raised in a town that had a massive protest when Applebee's tried to open up because the sign was going to say "Bar and Grill" and bars are to be hidden, never put out on display. This was when I was in High School, too. Not back in the 50's.</div>
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I was raised in a Pentecostal church. Look it up. </div>
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I get the religious side of things. </div>
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My sister happens to be an associate pastor at her church. Not that her job means anything as far as my credintials, but I'm pretty sure that if I do something totally antireligious, she is going to call me out on it. </div>
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Howwver, tonight, I kept being told I just didn't understand. I just don't get it. I am not from "here". </div>
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I am right now, personally offended. Perhaps I should take it as a total compliment that people don't view me as being from "here". After all, if this is the land of religious zealots who don't want to understnad technology for fear that Satan is always behind a cmputer, then I'm good with not being from "here". </div>
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What, you may ask, was all the hub bub about?</div>
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Bar codes. </div>
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You know how everyone has a bar code for everything now. There are bar codes on your grocery store cards. There are bar codes on every product you buy. Really, look around, and they are every where. People even have apps on their smart phones to be able to scan them.<br />
However, when it comes to membership in a organization I am part of, they just won't fly. </div>
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Apparently, people here would totally reject it, and at some point in time in the very contentious discussion, someone likened them to the mark of the beast. </div>
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I kid you not. </div>
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I couldn't make that up. </div>
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All of this was thrown at me, me the person who didn't even suggest car codes but had looked into the feasibility for someone else, because I couldn't understand people. I am an outsider. So, I took the brunt of everything. <br />
<br />
I may not sound like people do here, or act or think like them. I may be open to change and multiculturalism, but that doesn't mean I don't know anything about here, too. I've lived more, experience more, and been through more than many people. <br />
Do not assume you know me. <br />
<br />
I get that a lot of crazy things happen in California. People out there want to ban Oreos, and that stands as evidence enough of some of the goofy things that happen, but goofy things happen everywhere. Like people flipping out about bar codes. It just so happens, though, that people in CA wouldn't be afraid of bar codes. They are much more open to people of different cultures and experiences, because everyone in CA is from a different culture or experience. <br />
So, if you want to call me that mom from CA, go ahead. I may have been born and raised in East TN, but if being open minded and forward thinking equals being from CA, I'll take it in a heart beat. <br />
In the mean time, if you want to know what I think, how I feel, or about my experience in life, ask. I'll be glad to tell you. All the while trying to plan my escape back to California, land of people who embrace bar codes. </div>
Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-79314979857875029692013-05-22T11:51:00.000-07:002013-05-23T11:52:06.555-07:00Netflix, Why Have You Forsaken Me?I think Netflix has it out for me. <br />
Actually, I feel like they want to see how far they can push their customer base repeatedly until they no longer have one. They seem to love pissing off the masses.<br />
Today, they succeeded with me. <br />
A while back, when they switched all heir pricing plans, and lost tons of customers, people were pissed. They decided that streaming and DVDs would be separate services, and cost much more individually than they had together. OK. Fine. We didn't stream. It totally sucked to lose that value, though.<br />
THen, a few months ago, we were actually able to get a free trial of the streaming, and come to find out, we loved it. They had all kinds of things my kids both would watch, and were actually allowed to. In addition, they had Dora the Explorer on tap, and let me assure you, if you have ever parented a young toddler, Dora and Diego can be your best friends when you are at your wits end. So, needless to day, we stuck with it. <br />
I don't even bother turning on the Cable box about half the time anymore. We just pull up Netflix, and turn it on Dora int he morning while I fix breakfast so that The Littlest One can get her fix, and I can actually get breakfast fixed. <br />
We have loved it. I have felt the service was well worth the extra money for streaming. <br />
We did consider the new RedBox streaming service that is currently in Beta. It is cheaper than Netflix. You also get Redbox rentals which means current movies. That meant there was way more value there since we pay separately for actual DVDs from Netflix. However, RedBox doesn't have the Nickelodeon shows we love. So, we stuck to Netflix even though there was a cost difference. <br />
Then, today, they lay the whammy down. No more Nick tunes. <br />
Netflix decided not to renew a TON of stuff for their streaming.<br />
Gone.<br />
All gone.<br />
My baby is devastated.<br />
I am devastated. <br />
No more Dora while I fix dinner.<br />
No more Dora when I am about ot pull out my hair.<br />
Now, I have to get out the DVDs, turn on the DVD player..etc, etc, etc. HASSLE.<br />
I feel like they took back that little piece of sanity I had been paying them for. <br />
So, I think I'm done. <br />
With the whole thing. <br />
They are now only slightly better than RedBox streaming, and only because of the ease of the devices. Redbox is still in it's infancy, and hasn't caught up to all the things Netflix can use. That's ok. I will make it work while they keep adding devices. <br />
Now, I will get to choose Redbox movies a couple of times a month, instead of constantly missing the mail lady and never returning my Netflix movies when I want to. <br />
Yes, I see a major switch happening, and I hope lots of people follow. <br />
Netflix has consistently shown that they don't care about their customers, because they were the only real game in town. <br />
No more. <br />
Red Box, get ready for some new subscriptions. I'm starting my free trial ASAP. <br />
<br />Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-84121916478357290852013-05-10T07:56:00.000-07:002013-05-10T07:56:00.128-07:00When Thank You Isn't Enough<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifMR8Lm3UA9YAaGg7yd2E1OA6EaNkoQRAYY-H9pPcunZDw1n5-jHjyglqSx2k237ro8NgUC1hkasT-9uMZTxz2uugdEXC_JxjOnX0jeu-wGIzcOSH4TDJO8ORbziMtUrBosDutoRpqE6A/s1600/IMG_20130509_143128_914-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifMR8Lm3UA9YAaGg7yd2E1OA6EaNkoQRAYY-H9pPcunZDw1n5-jHjyglqSx2k237ro8NgUC1hkasT-9uMZTxz2uugdEXC_JxjOnX0jeu-wGIzcOSH4TDJO8ORbziMtUrBosDutoRpqE6A/s320/IMG_20130509_143128_914-1.jpg" width="241" /></a><br />
I already got a little teary eyed this morning. On top of that, I completely made a teacher cry. <br />
You see, there are people in life who, whether you realize in the moment or not, will leave a lasting and far reaching impact on your life. <br />
Teacher can be those people. <br />
Not always, but sometimes.<br />
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Sometimes, you happen to be lucky enough to be blessed with a teacher that isn't just good, or even great, but is the kind of person who truly makes changes. <br />
This year, we were so lucky to have gotten Middie's teacher. It was kind of luck, too.<br />
She wasn't the original teach for the year. We were supposed to have someone totally different, who ended up being moved to forth grade due to enrollment numbers. This meant that two weeks into the school year, our teacher was moved suddenly form First grade, where she had been told she was going to get to stay, to Kinder. <br />
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Not only was she moved, but she was given the most difficult class I have ever seen. I don't say that lightly. The class mix was absolutely not a balanced one, and even I could see it. Additionally, from being the "home room parent" I can tell you that the parents are mostly not active participants with the school. I couldn't get anyone to come in and help with just about anything, not even for parties. I mean, we are in the south, and people wouldn't donate food. That has to tell you how bad it was. We love party food here. It's sort of a religion in itself, and yet, I had to beg and over compensate. It is that bad. So, she had little to no help all year long.<br />
<br />
Yet, through it only, she didn't just choose to persevere, she chose to blaze. <br />
This teacher came in and saw a flawed system. She wanted better, not just for her class, but for every child there. She knows that Kindergarten is truly the foundation of the rest of their educational careers, and she was determined to give every child at this school the strongest foundation that they could possibly get. <br />
She advocated for change. She fought for the kids. I can not imagine what all she has put into that school this year, but I do know that every child in Kindergarten this year, and every year to follow, is better for it. <br />
So, you see, I don't think there will ever be adequate thanks for all of that. I would give her a medal if I could. I should have nominated her for every single teaching award I could find. Even though no one else may proclaim it, and all of those children who's future's have been changed may never even realize it, I know that she is truly the Teacher of the Year. <br />
<br />
When it came time for teacher appreciation week, there was no way I couldn't give back. <br />
I sent out a note asking all the parents to donate to a class gift, and letting them know it was teacher appreciation week. Of course, if they won't donate food, I didn't expect much. I did get a couple of donations. That was great. Regardless, as to who did or didn't help, though,she was getting a good thank you. <br />
On Monday, when I covered the class for her during new Kinder registration, I took a blank white card and had all the kids in the room sign it. I took it home to scrap it. On Tuesday, she got a big, gorgeous, potted flower from us. I took the donations we got, I ask for a Starbucks coffee theme since she has a coffee pot in the class, and put it in a cute container she can use in class. In addition to the coffee and mug we had, I put a few other things in, along with the card from the class. We also left her a little gift certificate in the book fair going on in the library for her to buy a book or two for the class. <br />
<br />
This morning I took everything into class. I stood at the door and ask for two of the kids. I had them give it to her, and tell her it was from the whole class. She read what was written for her, and started to tear up. She came over to give me a hug, and I started to cry. I told her from the bottom of my heart that there would never be enough thanks for everything she has done, and said some of the things that I said here. She is truly inspirational. <br />
She is the kind of teacher that we all wish for when we send out kids to school, and we were lucky enough to get her. <br />
I am thankful. Now, and always. Thank you for helping my child love school. Thank you for giving her the best education you could. Thank you for being kind. Thank you for being generous. Thank you for really making a difference that will be felt forever more. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-77951122537995657622013-04-25T12:37:00.000-07:002013-04-25T12:37:18.067-07:00Crisis of Car Seat ConsciousI'm in the midst of a serious car seat dilemma, or at least it feels that way. I happen to be a bit of a car seat snob and zealot. Not totally, but maybe a little. I only buy very good seats (read really expensive, too). I know that the quality of the car seat actually matters. I have a brand that I prefer as soon as they are out of the carriers. This particular brand allows for both extended rear facing and extended harness use. Both of which are very important to me. Currently, The biggest One, my 9 year old, is still in a booster. She hasn't hit the weight limit yet. So, I see no point in changing that until she does hit the weight limit. As a side note, she is only a few pounds away, and I will be totally heart broken when I have to take her out of the booster. Middie, who is now 6, is still in a 4 point harness. The car seat allows up to 80lbs, I think, for the harness. She is no where near that. So, she will be in the harness until she out grows the seat via height. She will then be moved into a booster. Her older sister was only switched over just before she turned 8. Yup. I had a seven year old in a harness. The Littlest One is still rear facing at 23 months and 28 days. She will be 2 this weekend, and I am really considering turning her around. I know that rear facing is so much safer, and new guideline say that they should rear face until <b>at least</b> two. My heart and head are totally conflicted. The problem is, in my older model Ford Expedition, I can't get the car seat to sit well rear facing. It just seems like it is in a very odd place or angle for her. Due to that, I think she may be better off forward facing. The thing is, we have another vehicle where she fits just fine rear facing. My Husband likes for me to drive the Expedition. He feels like it makes more sense and is safer due to it's large size (though I tend to disagree with that portion). Anyway, the thing is, once I flip her, I flip her in both vehicles, not just one. Once she forward faces, I know she won't want to go back. She already hates riding in the car (total car screamer). I am pretty sure that forward facing will cut down on that at least a little. That means there is no going back when we switch vehicles back and forth. She won't have it. <br />
So, what to do? Do I drive the truck with less room, but allows her car seat to seat safely rear facing all the time? Do I go ahead and flip her? <br />
I may also, in total honesty, be feeling a little bummed about turning her around because she is my baby. Turning her means she isn't so much of a baby anymore. Since we won't be having any more babies either, it makes everything like this just a little more difficult. <br />
I'm having a total mommy conscious moment. I've had a few of those, lately, but this one is going to have to be addressed this weekend.<br />
<br />
<br />
**I don't need any feed back about how she must be getting cramped rear facing, or how that it "looks unsafe". Extended rear facing is safer. Fact. No arguments. If you aren't aware of how much safer, you should read up on it. If there wasn't the issue of the poor position in the one vehicle, I wouldn't even be considering it.**Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-35996890092704456372013-04-22T18:30:00.000-07:002013-04-25T18:31:38.940-07:00Its TCAP Baby!For about the last two weeks, life at school for The Big Girls has completely changed. It has been taken over by TCAP mania. For those who aren't from the great state of Tennessee, that would be the name for the state standardized testing here. It is seriously insane. I know there are standardized tests in every state, and The Big One must have taken them in CA, but I have no real memory of them. So, they didn't stand out as a huge deal. Here, though, you can't help but know about them. Even people who don't have kids know it is TCAP week in TN. Seriously. <br />
Its starts with rally preparations. First, the school becomes completely devoid of all letters and numbers. The rules here state that the children not be allowed to see any letters or number (not a joke). So, every single thing with writing on it of any kind is either covered up with plain black paper or removed. The school looks terrible. It is both creepy and sad. <br />
So, to make up for it, they try to make a big party atmosphere for all the kids taking the tests. We have a massive pep rally the Friday before TCAPs start. At our school, each grade comes up with a song, a parody of something popular on the radio, and rewords it to have a TCAP theme. Middie's was TCAP Baby, Which was actually a parody of Call Me Maybe. This isn't the same version that our school sang, but I have to share this video here. I mean, after all, if teachers are willing to do this for their kids, you have to give them some serious love, and share it with the world. <br />
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This also gives you an idea of what I am talking about. <br />
See, craziness. <br />
Every day, the teacher on morning drop off duty has held a count down sign letting us know how many days left until TCAPs. This whole week, Middie will be in a different classroom. Since her teacher has proctored TCAPs before, they are moving her to help with the older kids this week. Her class is being divided up and put in the other Kindergarten class rooms for a week. <br />
The Big One's teacher sent home a note asking us to send in snacks and water for the whole class. We went to Costco and sent in a huge thing of mini water bottles and cheeze its in individual bags as per her request. They were told that they could chew gum this week, and even take off their shoes, or do what ever else made them feel most comfortable. <br />
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One of the biggest signs that TCAPs were coming, though, is that for the last week to two weeks, the kids who have to take the tests, Kinders are exempt from TCAPs, haven't really been doing normal school work. They have only been prepping for TCAPs. They have taken practice test after practice test. They have studied the material that should be on the test, and only that. <br />
School has basically come to a screeching halt so that these kids can get the best possible score on the test.<br />
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Now, call me crazy, but I think somewhere along the line, someone missed the point. Actually, I think everyone has in charge of this missed the point. Instead of teaching a well rounded curriculum and hoping that the kids do well, the schools here are literally teaching for the test and only the test. I know it isn't all the fault of the schools and especially not the teachers, but of a system that has really lost its focus as well. The teachers are doing what they have to do. There must be a better way. <br />
I'm not sure what it is right now, but I know broken when I see it, and clearly, the way we are teaching our children is broken. We should be doing better for them. We should have the best educational system in the world, and I am so sorry that we are failing at that. Perhaps it is the people who come up with these systems and rules who need some testing, not the students, at least not like this. <br />
<br />Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-11507634344461539002013-04-09T06:16:00.000-07:002013-04-09T06:16:37.821-07:00Cheating The Littlest OneEven though The Biggest One was born in South Texas, she was raised in San Diego. Middie was raised there, until we moved here. Though she was young when we moved, I think she will keep a lot of memories of our time there, and certainly the impact of all the things we did, and her experiences will carry forward with her. The Littlest One, though, she won't remember San Diego, at all. She was so small, that the fact that she was born there will just be something written on a piece of paper to her. She is a Native San Diegan by word only. <br />
That really breaks my heart. <br />
I love San Diego. I love the culture. I love the atmosphere. I love all that there is to do with my children. I tried to take advantage of a lot of that, too. As a result, I think I gave The Big Girls a pretty well rounded life experience before they started kindergarten. I don't really believe that preschool is in any way necessary for a young child's development, and as long as you give them a great, well rounded life experience before school starts, they should be just fine, and maybe even fantastic, by the time they are ready to start school. I think I was able to provide that for The Big Girls. We did Sea World and the San Diego Zoo. They were able to see all sorts of fantastic animals and shows. They were able to learn a lot about the world around them. The San Diego Zoo, one of my favorite places on earth, has a great program for moms groups. They bring you in a little early before the zoo opens, and take you on a special tour of the zoo. Each month there is a different theme and you get to learn about something very cool. There was even story time at the end of each session. It was fantastic. The kids get to be exposed to so much that way. We were doing that with our group every month before we left, and it was seriously great. We went to parks all the time. We got out. We played with out friends. We got fresh air and exercise on a regular basis. <br />
All that life experience is invaluable. <br />
Now, though, we aren't in San Diego. The weather is crappy most of the time. We don't get to see the sun much, and it is freaking cold here during the winter and spring. That means no outside time. We rarely go outside, unless it is to run from the house to the car. It sucks. There is a Zoo, but it is more like a petting Zoo. Besides, no other zoo compares to the San Diego Zoo. IT really is the best. There certainly isn't a Sea World anywhere near by. We do have an aquarium, but there were a few of those in San Diego as well. The fact is, there just isn't nearly as much to offer here as there was there. <br />
The culture is also much different. We are seriously lacking in cultural diversity here as compared to San Diego. Seriously. I went to the best Asian market we have here. It was about the size of a convenience store. That was it. I guess I should be thankful we have one at all. <br />
We just don't have what we are using to having in San Diego anymore. <br />
I feel like The Big Girls got so much by living there, and by moving here, we are cheating The Littlest One out of all those opportunities to explore the world. It isn't fair to her that she won't get to see dolphins any time we want, or check out a polar bear on a beautiful, sunny day. I wonder how it will affect her development as a person later on in life. <br />
I can see a stark difference in the children who were raised here and The Biggest One. They are already very close minded when it comes to anything that is different. Telling them that a food is from another culture makes it gross, not interesting. When they meet people who are new are different, and it takes a long time to welcome them in. They simply haven't been exposed to anything, and have parents who aren't opening their world up, either. It makes me sad. <br />
<br />
The other day, The Biggest One and I were watching Chopped. One of the contestants said that she really needed the money because her partner was about to have a baby. The Biggest One said that was really nice that she would just give that money to her friend. I very simply told her that wasn't what partner meant. It was more like a girl friend or wife. The Biggest One's reply was "Oh, ok." She just didn't get the term. There was no big discussion needed. There wasn't an astounded reaction. She knows that any one can love anyone they want to because she has seen it with her own two eyes. She knows there are two mommy households, and that isn't anything new or odd to her at all. It's just a part of life as she knows it.<br />
That is what I want for my kids. I want them to love and respect diversity, and I fear greatly that they will miss out on all that by being here. <br />
<br />
I'm really trying hard to find the good in our new home.<br />
We do have some fantastic lakes, two huge ones really, with tons of parks around them, and even a make shift beach. We have some other nifty attractions like the Lookout Mountain. There is a lot of camping and hiking that can be done. We also have a great Discovery Center that I think would actually put the Reuben H. Fleet to shame sometimes, or at the very least rival it well. <br />
That's it, though. So, I will have to seek out the best of our area that I can to try be the best parent that I can be here. We can go down to Atlanta and visit their Aunt, to see what Atlanta has to offer. We can hit the parks when it is warm. I'll do the best that I can do with what I have, and hope, that I can give her what she needs, even if it isn't what I want.Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-47084905449733840942013-04-07T21:30:00.000-07:002013-04-08T07:53:02.090-07:00I Wrote an Angry LetterWhen we moved here, we rented this house almost entirely because of the schools it was zoned for. Most of the schools here are crap, and I mean crap. We picked a house outside of the city limits just because it happened to have a very highly rated school. The PTA seemed to be super active. Their academic scores were great. <br />
I have to say though, that I have realized so much of your experience really depends on the teacher you get, and there are great teachers, and not so great teachers, at every school.<br />
If I were able to separate the experiences I have had with Middie and her teacher, and The Biggest One and her teacher, I would swear we are talking about two different schools. Middie has had a great year. Her teacher is fabulous. Really. I am in there helping as often as I can. I would do anything for this woman. She has the worst class out of all the Kindergarten classes because of the way classes were selected last year, and honestly, she does a fabulous job with what she got. Middie loves her and loves school.<br />
The Biggest One, not so much. <br />
I have actually spoken face to face with her teacher four times, but in those times, I can tell you that I have been labeled a pain in the butt, and I am totally disliked by this woman. I also think she doesn't likes The Biggest One, though I would never let her know that. It just shows in her actions.<br />
Our first time talking was the first open house about the first or second week of school. I offered to help her with anything I could. She already had a home room parent. So, I let her know that I scrap booked, and I would be glad to make things for the class, come in and help with paperwork, really anything I could do, just please let me know. That was pretty much it. She never said she wanted help. Never communicated with the me. I have since learned that her home room parents take care of everything, even the food for parties which I have to beg to be allowed to help with.<br />
Even though we haven't spoken, I was learning a lot about her. I realized that her demeanor in class wasn't exactly what I would have wish for in a teacher for The Biggest One, but that's just how it works. We are all different people, and I just let all the fart jokes she makes, and that type of thing go, thinking it was tacky, but sometimes we meet tacky people, until she made a big boob joke. The class was working on improper fractions, where the number on the top is bigger than the number on the bottom, and she called them Dolly Parton fractions. When I was helping The Biggest One with her homework, and she called the fraction that, I nearly flipped my lid. I ask where she heard that, and she said her teacher. I couldn't believe that a teacher would make a boob joke like that to her class, not at this age. I was totally offended. <br />
My intent was to talk to her about it at a parent teacher conference, which was coming up. However, when we got there that night, my plan flew out the window. The second time I spoke to her was this night. She had requested the conference. She said that she wanted to talk to us about The Biggest One's personality. She explained that in the beginning of the year, The Biggest One was being picked on some. She told her to stand up for herself, and she felt like that advice had been taken too far. Now, The Biggest One was sort of like a brick wall. She always took definitive charge of any group they were working in, and wouldn't always take her classmates ideas into consideration. She was bull headed. I ask if my child was being rude or inappropriate to her, because that wasn't ok. I happened to know, though, that the kids she wasn't listening to were the kids who were picking on her the worst. She was taking charge and refusing to listen to them as a defense mechanism. She wasn't about to give them the chance to be mean to her when she had to work with them, which was all the time. The teacher said that in her classroom, she expected everyone to get along and like each other. <br />
<br />
Yeah...No. <br />
<br />
This is the real world. Those kids aren't all going to like each other. They can all be civil to each other, but that doesn't in any way mean that they will get along all the time or actually like working together. You can forget that. <br />
Anyway, the seriousness that she approached the issue totally took me off guard. I know the The Biggest One is bossy. I live with her every day. In part, that is absolutely my fault, and I even told her teacher that. I explained that as a military child, whose father has been gone most of her life, she had to often take charge of a lot of things that other kids haven't. That was her life. That is how she has been raised. I don't think that is bad, either, but I do think it makes her different than a lot of kids these days, especially those not raised in that environment. Last year, if she was being bossy, her teacher would make some kind of humorous comment to me as I picked her up, to let me know we had an extra bossy day, and The Biggest One and I would talk about it. We would work on it. That's all that was needed. One sentence. One statement. We understood and tried to work on it. Instead, I get a fed up teacher who eventually tells me that maybe I should take my daughter to see the guidance councilor, then, if she has had such a hard time. <br />
<br />
I think it was about that point in the conference that my husband got up and walked away. He didn't want to be present for any more of our discussion. At that point, it was two brick walls just banging against each other, both of them saying the same thing over and over again, with nothing really being heard. <br />
<br />
And I totally forgot the big boob thing. <br />
<br />
Anyway, after that, our only two other face to face interactions have been very positive. I ask to come in and make ceramic Christmas ornaments with her class, something I do every year with my girls' classes if I can, and which she let me do. I also saw her on math night, and we chatted a little. It was pleasant enough. <br />
<br />
So, this week, when she went off script again, I just about lost it. <br />
<br />
I had to write a letter to another teacher, The Biggest One's science teacher. <br />
<br />
I know this post has already been long, but hang with me a bit more. <br />
<br />
Every week, we have Girl Scouts on Tuesday right after school in Middie's kindergarten classroom. Her teacher put both of her daughters in my troop, and she helps me out. It is awesome. So, all of my troop girls come straight into the room after school, and the ones on that hall are actually in there before school is totally over since they come in when all the other kids are getting in their bus rider/car rider lines. I have to be in that room right away while the teacher takes care of her dismissal duties. It isn't a big deal normally, and most of my girls come right in. The Biggest One, though, is almost always my last one in. The problem is that they won't always let her come. Some days they make her sit in the car rider line until those kids start leaving before she can go, even if the bell has already rung. I wrote her teacher a letter reminding her that I was in the class room we meet in and couldn't get her from the line. I really needed The Biggest One to be dismissed to come straight to me. After my letter, that's what she did. Since dismissal duties rotate, though, she isn't always there. The other teachers don't just let The Biggest One go. She has to ask each teacher when she can go, and then they tell her that day what she can do. <br />
This past week, it didntt work out. The Biggest One ask a teacher, and heard "after the bell rings". What she didn't hear was "wait until the car riders start leaving" because of all the other kids talking. Regardless, she waited until after the bell rang, which meant school was over, and came to me in Girl Scouts. She was early. She was happy. Then a boy came to the door and told her to go back to her science teacher. In about two minutes, my child walked back in to me, hysterical. She was sobbing and couldn't stop. She said that this teacher had jumped all over her. I know the teacher is very strict, and comes across as pretty mean. The teacher told her that she hadn't listened and would be sitting out recess the nest day. My child was horrified. She tried to explain that the other teacher she had ask to leave that day, a fifth grade teacher, not even the teacher who called her back to yell at her, said she could go after the bell rang, but this teacher refused to listen. She didn't want to hear anything from my child. My child did wrong, and she was in trouble. Period. End of story. <br />
<br />
No. <br />
No. <br />
I don't think so.<br />
<br />
I was mad. If The Biggest One really did something wrong, I would expect her to be punished at school. However, I don't think misunderstandings, especially when you are talking about inconsistent policy, should count. Most importantly, though, is the fact that this woman chose to punish her with out ever listening to her. That isn't ok with me. In fact, they yelled at her for asking to go every week in this whole debacle. It was clear that it was irritating to them she needed "special treatment". <br />
I had to make it through an entire Scout meeting super pissed and not let my kids know. That was hard. It took everything I had not to just walk down the hall and speak with her science teacher right then.<br />
Instead, I talked to my husband that night, and decided to write a letter to the science teacher, the one who chose to punish her. I slept on it to have time to think and calm down. <br />
I wrote very carefully. I said that it had been a misunderstanding. I said that the biggest problem was the inconsistent policy. I ask that every teacher give her the same dismissal routine, even if it meant that should would be the latest in the room, just so that The Biggest One would have a clear set of instructions to follow each week ,and she could stop asking them what to do. I did say that she was almost always the last one in the room, and I would like to see her dismissed when the bell rang, like her teacher does, but if they feel that is unsafe for any reason, that we would take what ever was best. I also said that if there were more concerns, then I would be glad to meet with the teachers who have dismissal duty over her, and the principal if needed, so that we could come up with a safe plan of action for dismissal for the rest of the year that would work for everyone. <br />
It wasn't mean. It was firm, but there is a huge difference.<br />
I had my husband read it, and let me assure you, when it comes to my being bitchy, he can spot it from a mile away and would never fail to call me out on it. He said the letter was fine. <br />
So, since I had missed writing it by the time they left, I took it in to school.<br />
There is a great little side story about me seeing this teacher as I was getting there, but I will save that for later. <br />
For now, what you need to know is that I got it to The Biggest One right before lunch and recess when she was supposed to stand with her science teacher. She went back to class, and before recess, she ask her teacher if she could go ahead and give the letter to the other teacher. Her teacher ask to see it and read it first. That pisses me off right there. It wasn't addressed to her. <br />
She read it, and according to the Biggest One, made a big eyed face. She called the other teacher over, and said, "Here, her mom wrote you an angry letter."<br />
<br />
I will let that sink in for a second.<br />
<br />
You good?<br />
<br />
Ok. She said, in front of my child, that I wrote her teacher an angry letter. I ask if she had been kidding. The Biggest One showed me the face she made three separate times. She was absolutely not kidding according to my child.<br />
<br />
Well, if I wasn't angry before, I was the moment my child relayed this. <br />
It wasn't an angry letter. I promise you. Even if it had been, that was totally inappropriate to say in front of my child. You can bitch about me behind my back like all the people who have sense do any time you want, but not in front of my child. What she did was just set up an adversarial position for the two of us. She said I did something mean to that other teacher. The teacher parent relationship should never be adversarial, and setting it up that way goes against the grain of everything I think schools work for. <br />
<br />
How dare she. <br />
<br />
So, this time I decided to take a couple of days and cool down.<br />
I'm thinking a conference with the principal is actually in order. <br />
That really wasn't ok with me. I don't know exactly why she dislikes me so much. <br />
I swear that if you got Middie's teacher together with The Biggest One's, and had them each describe me as a parent, you would think they were talking about two totally different women. I would do anything for the school and my girls' classes that I could. If you know me, you know that. Last year, I went in no less than once a week for a couple of hours with two kids in tow to do paper work in the parent room because I feel it is my responsibility to help out any way I can. That's my job. <br />
Instead of viewing me as an asset, though, for some reason, she has chosen to make me an obstacle. It honestly makes me want to cry. I just want to help, not to be treated with out respect. <br />
Anyway, this post has been super long. Sorry. If you made it through, thanks. <br />
I'll let you know what happens from here. I'm hoping for some kind of better. Any kind of better. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-5257139342919140552013-03-27T13:48:00.003-07:002013-03-27T13:48:43.268-07:00The Grand MiddleYesterday was The Big Little One, aka The Middle One, aka Middie, 's birthday. <br />
She turned six years old. <br />
It makes me want to cry a little. I realize six isn't that big, but it is, in many ways. In just a couple of months, she will be out of kindergarten, and on her way to first grade. She won't be a little girl any more, really. For some reason, in my head, while The Littlest One is the baby, I see Middie as my baby, too. It feels like just yesterday I brought her home from the hospital. I have all these beautiful memories of her just being such a snuggly baby. She still is a snuggler. <br />
She really is a fantastic kid. Middie is smart cookie. She is an avid reader, which I love. She is fantastic at math, which is really fantastic since it means I don't have to help her with it. She has a sharp wit, much like her Father's, and a great sense of humor. <br />
I love this kid. <br />
She amazes me all the time. I look at her, and I really wonder where she will go in life and what she will do, because I see in her the potential to do anything and do it very well. <br />
I am very proud of her already, and I know her future will be amazing. I'm just so happy that I get to be a part of it and watch her grow!!<br />
<br />
Love you, Middie!!!Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-75017335362682909952013-03-25T07:21:00.000-07:002013-03-25T07:25:21.876-07:00Not Enough Wine In The WorldLet me make one thing really clear, I really don't drink. Like ever. I'm not opposed to it, I just can't afford the extra calories every day. Not only that, but with three children, I'm really afraid that if I started, I wouldn't ever stop. <br />
You see, when you have all daughters, and in particular one who is about to turn 10, there are enough hormones running rampant through your home to stave off menopause for at least 10 middle aged women. Seriously. It's like all hormones, all the time right now. <br />
The Big One is killing me. A little at a time, but I swear she is taking years off my life. She goes from super pissed to crying in about 0.2 seconds these days. Her bad attitude is off the charts. She is a total angsty, moody teenager three years before we should have hit this, and I just do not get it. The other day, I made her cry because I told her she was being a pout pout fish. If you haven't ever seen it, there is an adorable children's book that we love, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Pout-Pout-Fish-Deborah-Diesen/dp/0374360960">The Pout Pout Fish. </a> I paraphrased some lines some lines for her, telling her that she was a Pout Pout Fish with a Pout Pout face, spreading dreary wearies all over the place. Then I ask her to turn her frown upside down and be a Kiss Kiss Fish with a Kiss Kiss face and spread cheerie cheeries all over the place instead. That is all straight from the book, and totally cute. <br />
I suppose I just spoiled the ending of that book for you if you haven't ever read it, but still totally worth the read. <br />
Anyway, from that, I was told that I was mean, because I was name calling. True, I did call her a Pout Pout Fish, but......Seriously? I mean, SERIOUSLY?<br />
The point of quoting the silly book to her was to make her smile. I wanted to make her giggle and tell me I was being silly, and I would even take an eye roll with an exasperated "Mooommm" as long as there was at least the start of a grin. <br />
<br />
But no.<br />
<br />
Instead, I got tears and to be told how mean I was because I called her a Pout Pout Fish.<br />
I know in my head that this is going to get progressively worse. I realize that we haven't hit our hormonal stride yet, but I do not understand how it could be worse. <br />
I don't know how I will handle it. I am afraid that she will spend years 10 through 17 locked in her room.<br />
It is amazing to me that so many girls survive puberty with their moms. <br />
I look back, and I'm trying to remember myself at this age, but I think I have blocked it all out at this point, and probably for good reason. I think I need to find a new moms group, stat. I see lots of late night mom's night outs in my future, if either of us are going to make it. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-489012462230511248.post-38633855033727140912013-03-14T06:34:00.000-07:002013-03-25T07:28:36.139-07:00I Don't Need Your Reality Check, Thanks.Sometimes, we all have to choose our battles and struggles in life. Some battles, we choose not to fight, knowing the outcome isn't worth the struggle. Some battles, we do choose to fight because we feel we have to. Some we choose to fight because we feel we need to, and have to and need to are different. <br />
The thing is, no matter why you choose to fight your battle, or what your battle is, the idea behind the choice is that you hope for a good outcome, maybe an outcome that will in some way, be it big or small, improve your life. <br />
<br />
Right now, I am choosing to fight a battle that would have a huge impact on our lives. Massive. <br />
If I can just fight hard enough, or even figure out how to fight this one, and win, our lives could get put back on the right track. This is something we as a family desperately need. <br />
So, why in the world would someone choose to constantly remind me about how hard this is going to be, if not impossible? <br />
<br />
Let me assure you, I already have enough pressure and feel enough stress over everything going on that I don't need one iota of extra crap from anyone else. Seriously.<br />
I don't understand why, women in particular, feel the need to drop someone else down a peg when they are already struggling. <br />
<br />
Honestly, we do it all the time. We make noises, click our tongues, or just tell people how hard things they want to accomplish will be and let them know we don't hold out hope for them. The phrase "good luck with that" isn't usually said to actually wish someone luck, but used with a sarcastic tone to imply that we think something will never come to fruition. <br />
<br />
Then, we wonder where kids get their bullying skills from. <br />
Why can' we just build people up anymore? What happened to genuinely wishing someone luck, and hoping with them that against all odds whatever they want and need, as long as it is good for them, will actually happen? Moreover, what happened to helping out our fellow man? <br />
I really don't like posts that are full of questions with no answers. However, this time, I just don't understand and I have only questions with no answers. <br />
<br />
So, I think we should all take a moment to think before we speak sometimes. We should all try to build people up a little more. Let's all try our best to encourage each other, and be kind. Who knows what you may be discouraging and keeping from happening with your clicks and false wishes. If only we would all try to be a little kinder to our fellow man, what a different world this would be. Moradahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607064223591178348noreply@blogger.com0