We're a team

Every now and then, some lesson you've tried to impress upon your child sinks in and makes itself known in the most random, beautiful moments.

In our quest to be good parents who don't yell, but instill consequences, Steve and I often emphasize why we must cooperate with each other. Mind you, we don't always succeed. We've both yelled, only to be told by Ryan, "Margie said we don't yell!" Oy vay, my words right back in my face :)  I've told Ryan repeatedly that we help each other. We listen to each other. We're a family. We're a team.

She's getting it; she's realizing that when I say, "If you don't help me, I won't help you" I mean it and since she often wants my help, she gets it that she needs to help me, too.

So let me tell you how I know something has sunk in. Today started off a bit...weird. We are out of our schedule. Firmly out of our schedule. Routine's all discombobulated. Wait, what routine?! I have asked Steve several times today if it's Friday. It indeed is Friday, but neither of us can seem to wrap our minds around that!

I can't say today's been a hard day, or a rough day; in fact, this week has been really good. Even though we've been super busy, and Ryan is sporting a 102 degree fever, we've thoroughly enjoyed our vacation time. I'm so grateful for this time. These past few weeks have been full of contradictions. Without rehashing it all, because I know we all watch the news, there has been a lot of sadness. But then on the polar opposite, we have much to be thankful for. Maybe I'm more sensitive to all my blessings because I'm so aware of the recent tragedies, but this holiday has seemed very poignant for me. So I won't complain about what happened today, as it could be so much worse and it led to one of the sweetest conversations I've ever had with my child.

Steve and I decided to take Ryan to Red Robin for lunch. (I know, I know -- I'm a horrible mother for taking my sick child out of the house! But she's been trapped in this house for two days now and she's been begging to go. Even though this kid is sick, you'd never know it! She's not complaining and she's happy and energetic... at least this time :)

Anyway, back on point, we took two cars. Steve was going to run errands and we were coming back home so the little lady could take a nap. Steve went first. He warned me that he had pulled my car in the garage kind of crooked and I had better pay attention to the left mirror. So I did. So much so that I completely ignored the garbage can and recycling bin at the end of the driveway. Until I hit them. And dragged the recycling bin way under my rear tires. Stuck. The bin. And the truck.

Seriously? WTF?!

I tried to pull forward, to no avail. My husband, the brilliant man he is, had already noticed my predicament, because he suspected I was going to hit them. He had driven slowly and when he saw me stop, he turned around and came back. Good thing, too. He had to pull out everything he could from underneath the carriage of the truck. Still stuck. Then he got a big board, I'm gonna guess it was a 2x6, and he wedged it under the tire. Spinning tires. Smoking tires. Still stuck.

I tried to go forward, I tried to go backward, Steve pushed, and I cautioned him the entire time so I didn't run him over. Yes, I was worried about that. That would suck.

Finally, between moving the board and trying again and again, I became unstuck. Yay!!! We were on our way. There wasn't even any swearing. We even laughed :) I love being on vacation; there's no stress, so small things like that seem funny instead of catastrophic.

Ryan said, "Mom, why did Daddy come back to help us?"
Me: "Of course Daddy came back to help us! That's what we do -- we help each other."
Ryan: "Because we're a team!"
Me: (with shocked awe) "Yes! We are!"
Ryan: "I told Cuvin that I'm on a team with my Mommy and Daddy." (Cuvin goes to Kango with Ryan.)
Me: "That's right! We're a team!"
Ryan: "Because we're a family."
Me: "That's right, baby. We're a team and a family. Always."

Later, as I put her down for her nap:
Ryan: (Stroking her baby uni pillow pet) "I love you. Don't be scared. I'm right here for you. I will always protect you. We're a team."

Que the weepy eyes and full heart. Lesson learned. Good Mom award earned. Finally. Perhaps she does listen to me...

Merry Christmas!

I haven't posted anything since November 4th. Life has just gotten in the way. I have a million ideas in my head that I want to write about. Some are home related, work related, world related... just the ramblings of my brain, and boy,  does my brain ramble! Scary, actually...

But today, I just want to give thanks. Thanks that I have a perfect little family. Not because I am perfect, or Ryan is, or Steve is, but because together, when we're all home safe and sound, our little family is perfect.

I marvel at how we are healthy, happy, alive, and together, and how God put all three of us in this same little space together. How lucky - how blessed I am. Sometimes it hits me and I just want to weep with gratitude.

As I watched Ryan take over two hours to open her gifts (she opened each and every one with rapt attention, played with it, then moved on, truly enjoying the process :)), I tried to imagine what it would be like to be in the shoes of someone in Newtown or Webster or anyone else in the world full of pain and suffering. I can't do it. I can't imagine the depths of grief they must be sinking in. My heart breaks for them and I pray they will find the peace they need.

I don't know why I am so lucky, but I will take it, and I promise I will cherish it.

In 2013, I will focus more on the good. I will celebrate more the happy. I will remember more all that we have to be thankful for. It won't always be easy and sometimes I will fail, but life is too short to do anything else. Hold your heads up high, breathe deeply, ask for peace in your soul and smile. God loves you and I do, too! Merry Christmas my fb friends!

My kid is driving me crazy!

She has been pretending to be a baby lately. Literally. She wants us to swaddle her, hold her cup and feed her like it's a bottle, plus she's whining, crying, and crawling. I know she just wants our attention, but this is a bit much. I know pretending is a way they learn and use their imaginations and interact with the world, but this is a bit much.

Steve and I are trying to train her to realize that the world doesn't revolve around her. At this moment, this is what I'm getting, "Mom! I wanted a raw cookie!" Stomping over the computer where I'm attempting to blog. Disgusted look in her face. Sinking to the floor in anguish. Crawling to the fridge to get them out. Clearly I suck.

Eating a raw cookie. All is right with the world. I made her get them herself. I refused to move from the chair. Does that make me a bad Mom?! God this shit is hard!!

Anyhoo, she can't stand it if Steve and I have a conversation. She hates it if I walk away for a minute. She wants to be on top of me every second. I've had enough. I can't take it. I need to be able to leave my kid alone for 2 minutes to pee. I also can't stand the whining. Good Lord! I usually don't respond until she straightens up. I have to tell her to stop whining and crying and talk like a big girl and then I'll listen. But I do this about 100 times a day. It's exhausting!! Is this normal?! Or do I really suck?!

Is it because she's an only child? Is it because we're doing something wrong?

She can be Re.Lent.Less. I mean, this kid can go. She has the perseverance of Joan of Arc. (She was the woman who allowed herself to burn at the stake, right?! I mean, who has that kind of stick-to-it-iveness?! That Joan lady did and my daughter does!)

Sometimes I can't wait to get back to work. And that's saying something! Can anyone relate? Please tell me I'm not alone!

Roller Coaster... of love!

Remember that song? I'm not sure who did it originally, but I love a version done by the Red Hot Chili Peppers in 1996. Before you go thinking, "Damn, that girl's got a great memory!" remember the powers of Google, Wikipedia, and the internet in general.

Anyway, I'm realizing that parenting is like a roller coaster -- filled with ups and downs. It is one heck of a ride, scary at some points, exhilarating at others. It's amazing to me how one day Ryan, Steve and I are a perfectly happy, stable, contented family, and our house is filled with peace and joy. And the next...I have to stop myself from slapping her and punching him. Now again, before you go thinking, "Damn, that girl's violent!" keep in mind that I have never actually slapped or punched anyone. I talk a good game, but I am all talk and no action. (To my sisters, Lora, Sheryl, and Jennifer, if you are reading this, I don't count all the girl fights with you!)

This past weekend, Ryan was a pistol. A handful. More than a handful. In fact, I couldn't handle her at all. I was literally speechless and had no idea what to do. My bag of tricks had been done and not one worked. I lost my temper, finally, and yelled at her. That worked. Great. But then I felt like crap for yelling at her. So I sat down on the floor, said, "Come here, Ry. I want to tell you something. Number one, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn't have done that." I had a number two, which I can't remember now, but Ryan interjected with, "Number one, I'm sorry I spilled my milk and wasn't a good listener."

Wow. What a powerful moment. Out of some crappy parenting moments, some bright rays of sunshine. That stopped me in my tracks. The anger just deflated and I felt like I could breathe again. She climbed onto my lap. We hugged and kissed and vowed to do better and darn it, she's upheld her end of the bargain. Peace reigns. At the moment. For the moment. I am quite sure she will get a bug up her 31/2 year old butt soon and decide to drive me nuts again. And I am quite sure there will be plenty more moments where I have absolutely no idea what to do, but at least I know that underneath it all, there is love.

Is the roller coaster ride worth it? I think so. I am always nervous, giddy with excitement, anxious, before I get on a real roller coaster. I am convinced I'm going to plunge to a grisly death. But when I'm over, it is adrenaline pumping and I want to do it again. So how does my metaphor line up with being a mom? I was nervous, anxious, excited to be a mom. I've often thought she's going to be the death of me yet. But I would definitely do it all over again. Being Ryan's mom is worth the ride.

Stop judging each other, moms!

Because it's just not helpful. Lest you feel puzzled as to why I bring this up today, let me tell you.

I love to read. I read a lot. I get several magazine subscriptions each month. Most of them are about health, fitness, and how to shape your life. Except one. Us Weekly. Oh, yeah, I like my trash.

Each week there's a page of quotes uttered by celebrities. I'm not exactly sure of their purpose, but they usually amuse or enlighten in some way. At the very least, they offer insight into the minds of some overpaid people. This week, one really rankled me. Christina Applegate was responding to why she hadn't lost all of her baby weight. A stupid question, and a rude one at that, but her reply went a little something like this -- those girls, instead of spending time with their babies, are on a treadmill. Hmmm...

At first I thought, right, that's what you do. Watch what you eat and exercise. But then I realized that the unsaid implication is that "those girls" are lesser moms because they *gasp* exercise! Then my mind went to criticizing her, "Well, she's just making excuses for why she didn't lose weight."

And then I stopped myself. The whole reason I started this blog was to share experiences in a safe, nonjudgmental arena. I don't want to be judged by others and I should definitely keep my judgments to myself. (*Disclaimer --I hope you know I am not suggesting in any way that we support people who neglect or abuse their kids physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually or any other way. I actually don't know anyone who does that. Unless you count parents of some students! Do you? If so, refrain from judging, then call CPS.)

I love Christina Applegate, but I don't think her comment is fair, and neither was my internal comment. Not one of us has any idea what other women go through. We heap enough abuse on ourselves; we certainly don't need anyone else's help.

Why do we like to make ourselves feel like we're a "better" parent if we do or don't do something? I guess it's human nature, but although we may feel superior for a few minutes, we're really not. To quote John Lennon, "Imagine." Imagine what it would be like if we all supported each other and raised each other up. We don't have anything to lose by that. We would only become stronger. Imagine a world full of strong moms who have each other's backs. Imagine their happy, healthy children.

The moms I know are great. I learn from them and I hope they maybe gain something from me, too. We all make mistakes. I make them on a daily basis! But what I need and I bet other moms do too is to have someone to listen to them. A sympathetic ear can change everything. When I need or want advice, I ask for it. More than anything, I need to know I'm not alone in this job. I deliberately used the word job because it is work. A huge part of parenting is not fun.

The sooner we come to that realization, accept it, and embrace it -- yes, embrace it -- the better off we'll all be. Maybe we won't be skinny and lose all the baby weight, but we could gain the support of each other and self-acceptance.

What made me laugh this week!

I've shaken off the melancholy -- so easy to do on a Saturday morning when my daughter is shaking her groove thing to the Wii with Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have" fun, I've been to the gym and raised my endorphin levels, and most importantly, I haven't had to go to work and deal with stupid people :)

Thank you to everyone who messaged me, commented, or liked the last blog. It truly lifted my spirits and made me feel better! I haven't been on Facebook long, but I have yet to discover what is so evil about it; so far I've been better about keeping in touch and I've gotten support from people I really like. Don't know why I waited so long to try it. (Oh, yeah, right, it's because I was terrified every person I can't stand would know the intimate details of my life. If that's happening I don't know about it. Ignorance is bliss!)

The nightly humongous glasses of wine helped, as did the two Bud Light Lime-A-Ritas I tried last night. Yummy :) This paragraph is a quick pitch to advertise that delicious new concoction. I just "liked" it so you can click on the link from my page and see the shiny, silvery can of goodness and know what you're looking for at Wegmans. No thanks needed :)

Anyway, here's my list of things that made me laugh this week. In no particular order:

1. "Mom, I've got a situation." I reply, very concerned, "What is it, honey?" She says, "Daddy's a ghost!" Whew! For a minute there I was really worried!!

2. This is worth a Google -- ESPN's Friday Funnies -- I laughed so hard my gut ached. During a college football game in a clinch play, the referee plowed over the coach in his way. I don't know why, but watching the old guy go down again and again was hilarious! Love ESPN for replaying it several times so I could drag out my twisted enjoyment of others' pain :)

3. Thanks to the guy at the gym who made me laugh like an 8th grade boy because he farted while on the elliptical. Even now, as I type, I'm giggling.... I know, I know, but I can't help it. When someone parts your hair so to speak it's funny! As long as you're not directly downwind :)

4. And finally, my favorite. Saved the best for last. True story. Thanks Matt Lindstrom for this week's heartiest belly laugh. He told me the story of a friend of his. We'll call him Daddy because I don't know his name. His two sons, Frank and Furter, (clearly I don't know their names, either!) go to the bathroom at a restaurant and emerge arguing. Typical boys. The older one, Frank, was picking on Furter because he had dried his hands on his shirt and left wet hand prints. Furter whined to Daddy, "He's making fun of me because he says the hand prints look funny." Daddy says, "Well, they kinda do look funny." Furter looks at Frank, looks at Daddy, looks back at Frank, and back at Daddy, and says, "Fuck you both." (Brief pause while I laugh once again...) After he drags the delinquent children to the car and explains to his wife why it was indeed their children disrupting the entire restaurant, he tells the wife that Furter insists he heard it from the babysitter, a 60+, kindly, blue-hair who most likely did not spew the f-bomb at daycare, but nonetheless, the next day, Daddy calls blue-hair and shares the story. She indeed says, "Oh no, it wasn't me!" But when Daddy persists by saying, "Well, he said you were driving down the road, on your phone, and he heard you tell someone 'Fuck you, both!'" Ohhh, well, then, "Oh, yeah, that was me. Whoops." Nice :)

Itchin' to write something...

But although I've had so many moments, good and bad, in recent weeks, nothing seems big enough to blog about. But I really feel the need to write something. To express myself. So this may wander and may not be cohesive, or have a point, or a solid lesson, but I need to just go. 

Melancholy. That's what I feel at the moment. When I look in the mirror, I see someone who isn't as happy as she once was, lacks the enthusiasm she once possessed. And yet, underneath it all, I am happy. I couldn't ask for more in regard to Steve and Ryan. Thank God for them! They are what life is all about and they keep me smiling. School starting though has been an emotional roller coaster. I go one day thinking, "I can do this." And the next I'm crying in team that I don't want to do this anymore. That I can't do this anymore. 

This is my 21st year of teaching and I think I may be burned out. I should be better at dealing with the BS, but even though in some ways I am, in others I am not at all. I still cannot wrap my head around why some things are the way they are. Why are some people lazy and ineffective and get away with it, but some of us bust our asses day in and day out, lose sleep at night and yet never even get a thank you? Why do some kids have such crappy home lives, to the point where they can't focus on learning, let alone passing state exams written by some a-hole who has never stepped foot in a classroom? Why do some teachers have far less responsibility than others? 

I don't know. I just don't know. I feel so powerless to change anything. Yeah, yeah, I know I should be the change I want to see in the world. And every morning I wake up with a smile on my face, determined to make the best of it, and by 3PM, I'm exhausted, have a headache, and need some ibuprofen and a glass of wine. Teachers, am I alone? Am I bat shit crazy?! Or is this normal? 

I don't want to be discouraged, but I am. Summer is already a distant memory. I am already tired. Oy vay! You know how they say to treat yourself? Take care of yourself? If I ate as much chocolate, drank as much wine, had as many massages as I need, I'd be fat, drunk, and broke!! 

Ryan's first concert!

Do you remember the first concert you ever attended? I do! It was Heart at the War Memorial. Ooooooh.... Barracuda!! My first concert should have been Michael Jackson; when I was about 14 my older cousin, Tim, asked my parents if he could take me. Dad said no. Now that would have been an experience!  What was he thinking depriving me of a legend performing Thriller?!

Since then, I've been to many concerts and what a varied lot I've seen! I've been in the presence of Garth Brooks (who pointed and winked at me! and no, it wasn't to the chick behind me, it was to me! ME!!), Aerosmith, The Beach Boys, Chicago, Barry Manilow (2x and I'm going again Friday!), Guns 'N Roses, Bon Jovi, Tim McGraw, Steve Miller, James Taylor, Debbie Gibson, Phish, Paula Abdul, Color Me Badd, Young MC, Milli Vanilli, Taylor Dane... That's all I can come up with right now, but I know I'm forgetting a lot. I used to keep the ticket stubs but then the pile was so big I threw them away. I'm really not a saver of stuff!

You might wonder what's prompted this stroll down memory lane. The answer is THE FRESH BEAT BAND! Steve and I took Ryan to CMAC yesterday to see them. They asked if there was anyone in the audience who was attending their first concert and Ryan raised her little hands. It made me realize I was 18 when I went to my first concert and Ryan was only 3. Man, times have changed!

First, the good news -- Ryan loved it. She was so excited! She got a t-shirt, sang along, shook her groove thing and made us so happy that we had done that for her.

Now, the bad news -- I'd just like to say to Nickelodeon -- WTF?! Those 3 tickets cost us 145 bucks! It was over in less than an hour and a half, and that includes the freakin' intermission! Who needs an intermission when you're only performing for a total of 45 minutes?! Really? You people have quite a racket going on there, what with the merchandising and hype. Clearly you are raking it in. What BS. The trouble is, while the kids have no idea that the "concert" was the shortest, most simple, biggest rip-off concert ever, their parents do! And Nickelodeon can get away with it because parents like us want to give Ryan the "experience". Suckers! All of us! Big, fat suckers!

And of course, one last bit of bad news...my kid is smart enough to remember that on TV The Fresh Beat Band pulls a kid up on stage. She told us about a hundred times she wanted to go on stage. Yeah, kid, we know, everyone wants to get pulled up on stage, but it ain't happenin', so get over it! Then when it was over, she cried -- and I mean all the way to the parking lot! We were the only people there with a kid who was crying. Why? Because on TV they high five the kids in the audience. She wanted to high five them. She didn't get to high five The Fresh Beat Band!

What a mix of emotions! Happiness, heartbreak, joy, disappointment... but I guess that's life, isn't it? We ride the roller coaster of experiences, feel the feelings along the way, and experience all the shades of gray. (I am NOT referring to the book, either.) Very little in life is black and white. Not even your first concert :)

Bees suck!

I haven't posted anything all week. I have so many little moments and incidents, that none of them seem big enough to write about and bother you all with! But when I look back over the week, I'm grateful for some of those small moments. Here is one standout moment:

A bee bit me. You might be wondering how on Earth I could possibly be grateful for that moment so I'll  tell you. (Lucky you!) I've been going to work faithfully to prepare my room, materials and mind for Tuesday :) Two weeks ago when I went for the first time, I couldn't help but notice the hundreds (that might be a slight exaggeration) of bee carcasses all over my window sills and floor. The head custodian, John, whom I adore, told me there was a nest outside my window and my window frame had a crack. The nest was bombed, the crack filled, problem solved, right? Wrong. Those buggers keep getting in my room anyway. Each day I'd show up to find more dead bees and some still alive which I promptly annihilated.

This past Wednesday was our kick off day, so I had to be at work all day. When we finally were given a measly hour to ourselves to work, I was checking email. Suddenly, I felt a sharp sting on the back of my neck. I reached up to feel it and quickly realized a bee had stung me and the damn thing got tangled in my hair then went down the back of my shirt. If you know me at all, then you know I didn't weather this calmly. I went batshit crazy, jumped up, swatted, flapped my hair, arms, shirt, anything I could really, trying to get it out to no avail! I screamed for Snyder. He ignored me. Idiot. I screamed again and he came over and helped flap the back of my shirt and it finally flew out. John has no idea how close he came to seeing me in a state of undress. The only thing that stopped from whipping my shirt off was the fact that I could hear parents and their children decorating lockers in the hallway. That's all I needed - getting in trouble for flashing kids. They frown upon that behavior for some reason.

Well, I was mad, it hurt, and I felt like a jerk for making a big ruckus. The nurse nursed me (thank you Roberta!) and then I went to see John, our head custodian. (Did I mention I adore him?!) Here's why I love him: he genuinely felt bad and then sprang into action. He called the bee people and arranged for them to come the very next day and bomb my room. This may seem ordinary, but he had already gone through the proper channels regarding these bees and this time he took matters into his own hands. I love a man of action! He even texted me later to check on me!

So the bee sting made me grateful for John. He is a genuinely caring, kind man who is great at his job and makes me laugh every day. The incident made me grateful that I was stung, not Ryan when she was in the day before. I'm also glad it prompted the bombing so no kids get stung next week.

I still itch like a son of a gun and the bump is big and gross, but I'm okay. Hopefully the bees aren't!

A Duck Bit My Daughter!

Ducks are smart little devils. Once they've been fed, they remember. I guess you can call it some sort of imprinting. They definitely recognize me and Ryan because we throw bread off our deck on a regular basis. Last night we took a walk around the pond and they kept chasing us hoping we had bread. Every time we came around another bend, they'd be racing toward us.

Anyhoo, after stopping at the playground to swing, we continued on our merry way. As soon as they saw us pull into our driveway in Ryan's hot little red wagon, they raced to our yard. I went inside and got the bread. For the first time ever, we stood in the grass, surrounded by ducks, throwing them bits of bread. Big mistake. They are greedy little gobblers! One stepped on my foot and I screamed bloody murder. It was weird having a webbed foot on my bare skin. Ewww!! They were crowding Ryan hard core and I kept telling her to throw the bread away from her so they'd back off. In the midst of all that feathery commotion, I failed to notice Ryan's fatal error: she had a piece in each hand but she wasn't throwing the piece in the left hand. A duck reached up to grab it, nabbed the crust, and bit her knuckle in the process.

Oh, the sadness! The misery! "That duck bit me!!!" Her feelings were so hurt. I think her finger hurt, too, but she was mostly shocked and scared. Who knew ducks could be so vicious?! Here's where the story gets really sweet -- Snyder was with us and he jumped to Ryan's rescue. (Steve-O can't go for walks yet, so he decided to drown his sorrows at EMS and buy stuff. For me! Love that guy :) When they kept coming back, even though the bread was long put away, John gave some gentle squirts with the hose to protect Ryan. Then he filled her pool so she could wade around and the ducks wouldn't get her. He was so good with her, spraying the ducks when needed and helping her get her pool just right. She bossed him and he took it like a man. My favorite direction from her was, "I'll let you know when it's fine." Ha! John will make a good daddy some day :)

She has recovered from the trauma long enough to listen to me explain the duck wasn't trying to hurt her, he just wanted bread. She gets it and has forgiven the duck. She also didn't need John after awhile; she just ran at them screaming, "ARGH!" when they kept coming back. That's my girl :)

Sorry, Steve, you are not a baby!

Good morning all! If you read yesterday's blog, then you know about Steve's misfortune yesterday. (Did I mention he was attacked by hornets earlier this week and one of the stings is infected?! My guy cannot catch a break!)

The results are in and his toe is actually injured pretty badly. The toe has cracked and the x-ray looks like a split piece of wood. Ouch. Okay, now I understand the moaning, groaning, and ridiculous histrionics in the wee hours of the morning. I'm sorry baby for calling you a baby!

He is no longer angry with me, although he still maintains that it's my fault. While I'm not going to take the blame for his injury, I am truly sorry that this has happened to him. He has to wear a boot. Has to rest. Can't work out. And if you've been keeping up with us this summer, you know Steve has lost 16 pounds using the AdvoCare eating plan and supplements and his gym habit has been killer. He is not a happy camper.

On top of all that, his building is closed and he is going to Olympia this year. He's been trying to get his room in order and it's a mess! He's sharing with some other tech teachers and it's currently being used as  a temporary mail room. He went in Monday to sort out his boxes and discovered the mail room situation and that a brand new drill was broken -- in several places and beyond repair -- and it can't be replaced. A budget is a budget.

Steve is not having a good week :( Yesterday, on his way to the orthopedic specialist, he dropped off Ryan at Kango. She stepped on his broken toe as he was leaving.

So, this mom is busy nursing my hubby and sorting out my classroom and trying to stop my 3 year old from sucking the life out of me. But it's all good! At the end of the day, we are okay :) Hope you are too!

Steve broke his toe! And it's my fault...

Yeah, right. He breaks his toe and I get blamed?! Really?

Here's how it happened:

I awoke around 1:30 AM to this highly annoying, persistent beeping sound. I couldn't figure out from where it was coming, so I did what any woman would do -- I woke up my husband. "Honey," I said, "Do you hear that?" He replied, "Uh-huh" to which I said urgently, "Go check it out!"

Off he went to check it out. I could hear him manipulating the buttons on the alarm system. The alarm wasn't going off, that sound wakes the dead and all of Henrietta, but it was beeping for some reason. He turned it off and reset it and came back upstairs.

Right before he dove back into bed, I whispered, "What if the call center calls? Our landline isn't working at the moment, my cell phone is off, and yours is downstairs. Go check it. I don't want the po-po banging on our door and waking up Ryan!" (Sorry, Nance -- no disrespect to Hank!) Off he went again. But this time, he missed the bottom stop on the landing where our cedar chest sits. This is where it gets good.

He starts moaning and groaning and gnashing his teeth. I leap out of bed like Wonder Woman and race to his side only to find him curled up in a ball on the landing. I think his leg is broken. But no, when he finally answers my pestering questions of are you okay?! Is something broken?? he says, yeah, my toe. I gotta tell ya -- I almost laughed out loud. His histrionics were something else. But let's get to why this business is my fault.

So I get him ice, I tape it to this foot, I get him ibuprofen and water, I get extra pillows to elevate and quickly realize that's all we can do for now unless he wants to hit the emergency room. He does not. Thank God! But he's being a bit snarky to me all this time while I'm administering to him like the world's best nurse and I finally say, "Why are you mad at me?" He snarks loudly, "Because I shouldn't have had to go back down there!"

And there it is! Because he's a clumsy oaf and rushes everywhere like an elephant and I told him to go check his phone, it's my fault! Stay away from me, people, I apparently have the power to break your toes!!

He's being a little more reasonable this morning and he's off to the orthopedic specialist, bypassing the primary care guy, and secretly, I think he's being a big, fat baby. I broke a finger a few weeks ago at kickball and kept playing. It took months for that stupid finger to heal and I did not cry like this guy's doing. But I will keep my mouth shut. As much as I can...

For all you teachers out there...

I've gone to school the past two days to sort out my room. Ryan has gone to "school" and Steve has gone in to work on his classroom as well. It's amazing how many people have told me how good I look. Not bragging, believe me! Just commenting that it's summer, my stress is low, and I'm well rested. I've been eating healthfully (thank you AdvoCare!), hitting the gym on a regular basis, and I feel pretty good. I fear that status is going to change drastically in the upcoming weeks! I keep asking myself, "How can I maintain this cool, calm side of myself I've found this summer?" I don't know for sure, but I have a few ideas. Keep reading...

More and more, being a mom and being a teacher are like one big Venn diagram for me. The middle part where the similarities are listed is the biggest part in my circles. I am an avid reader and am currently reading a few books simultaneously - everything from light and fluffy chick lit to books on how to be a better parent and books to inspire my teaching. (And the stack of magazines on my nightstand teeters precariously as well!) One book I've read quite a bit of  is Living the Lessons written by Olivia LaField. Another is Teach Your Children Well by Madeline Levine. Both are about approaching the whole child and stressing what we should worry about versus what we should not. Ultimately, no matter which book I'm reading, I'm applying the information to both Ryan and my students.

I know that becoming a mother has made me a better teacher. The more I learn about Ryan's development, and the more I experience my own wishes and desires for her, the more I see my students through a different lens. The reverse is also true. When I had Ryan, I had 17 years of teaching experience under my belt. I had observed a lot of parenting over those years and I had lots of ideas about what I wanted to do and not do. Teaching has definitely helped guide my parenting. Hopefully Ryan is benefiting from all of that!

Ryan does best when I am paying attention to her. By that I mean truly listening, addressing her needs, doling out consistent discipline when needed, and giving her independence where possible. All kids want that and so many of our students do not get that at home. They get their parents' attention all right, but it's in the worst ways possible; then they bring those shenanigans to school. Ultimately, I get exhausted and angry from dealing with their constant angst. Living the Lessons is lobbying for us to address those issues first and then teach academics. I'm going to give it a try. I have nothing to lose. The author has had astounding results on state exams, so she must be doing something right. I am still trying to sort out what that will look like in my classroom, but stay tuned. I'll keep you posted on my progress!

You're Hugging My Glasses!

It's amazing how in the space of a few days it seems like Ryan's growth has just exploded. The things that come out of her mouth seem so sophisticated at times! But the best part is, they make us laugh so hard.

Case in point, as we drove to Bugaboo for dinner the other night (all you AdvoCare peeps out there -- no worries -- had salad with grilled chicken!) a man on a bike pulled up in between our car and another to stop at a light on Jefferson Road. Now, if you know me at all, you know I'm easily startled. I am jumpy... very jumpy. So when a head popped up next to Steve's, I jumped out of my skin and yelled, "Oh, geesh!" Ryan quickly followed up with, "What is that freakin' guy on the bike doing?!" We laughed so hard. She is quick with her wit :)

This morning as we played on the couch, laughing and tickling and giggling, she had a few good ones, too. We were smushing each other and at one point she giggled, "Mooom! You're hugging my glasses!" Her little face was pressed up against my leg and her glasses were all askew. So cute :)

Soon after, while trying to play a game on Steve's iPhone that she couldn't get to work, she exclaimed, "Oh, shucks!" LOL :) We laughed partly because it was adorable and so sincere, and partly because it was so surprising. Neither of says oh shucks and we often wonder where she gets her new words and phrases from. Then when we laughed hysterically, she raced through the house just yelling it over and over. "Oh, shucks! Oh, shucks! Oh, shucks! Daddy, oh, shucks!" She's a ham who appreciates a good audience!

We've had a couple of good days as you can see. I hope we continue to have more moments where I'm hugging her glasses :)

One step forward, two steps back.

Ah, Ryan. Why can't you just use the potty?! Why?

Steve and I took Ryan to the Wyoming County Fair today located in Pike, New York. It was a long drive, but worth it. It just opened, so if you have any interest, make the trek. I was so impressed! The workers at the fair were so nice, considerate, and respectful.

Overall, Ryan had a blast. She especially loved the animal barns where she insisted on petting every animal multiple times, especially Jasmine. Jasmine was a small pony who had an orange bow in her hair and glitter on her mane :) She will henceforth be referred to as "The Sparkly Pony" as Ryan bestowed her. The third time we tried to pet Jasmine, she wasn't having it. She kept moving her head just out of range. I said, "Ryan, she's just not in the mood anymore. She wants to be alone." Ryan replied, "I can see that she's busy." Hilarious!!

Another favorite was the pink slides. They were super high. In fact, Steve and I were thinking how old we are as the climb made our thighs burn and our lungs gasp for air. But the one time we made Ryan walk the whole way herself, she proclaimed 3/4 of the way up, "Mommy, my legs hurt!" Good! We weren't the only ones whose butt was on fire!

We spent 3.5 hours there and had a really good time. I had many moments where my daughter  made me laugh out loud. The joy on her face and in her eyes radiated through her huge grin straight to my heart. Sometimes I look at that girl and my heart just squeezes with love and pride. It happens a lot actually. I just marvel at what a miracle my child is. Any child, really.

I also marvel how, on the ride home, right about the time we hit Avon, we smelled something that resembled poo. At first, we just thought it was Avon. It often smells. No offense Avon residents, but there are a lot of farms there and sometimes there's a stank in the air :) But once we made it through Rush and hit the outskirts of Henrietta, we couldn't deny it any longer -- Ryan had pooped her pants. Of course, when we asked her, she said, "No, I didn't." Liar.

So where's the marveling there? In the fact that one second I am thinking what an angel my daughter is. She's amazing! And the next second I'm thinking, "Why can't you just use the potty?! Why?? What is wrong with you?!" (I know there's nothing wrong with her, but hot damn, could ya just use the freakin' toilet already?! You had our undivided attention all day!)

So today's title is two steps forward, one back. She's improving, and silly me for thinking it was over. It ain't over until Ryan says it's over :) In the meantime, I will just remember how precious she is. And the number of times I look at her and my heart clenches with love far outweighs the number of times I wonder what the heck is wrong with her :)

What a difference discipline makes!

I have been trying to be very consistent and clear with Ryan for the past few days and it's working! Time Out has become a very effective tool for us. It may not work with everyone, and I'm certainly not implying my daughter has miraculously stopped all of her normal 3 year old behavior, but effective discipline makes all the difference!

So what did I do?! Well, the first time Ryan didn't cooperate, I put her in time out on the couch, TV off, no toys, etc. Believe me, when she cried like I'd stabbed her, it hurt me, but I walked away and didn't engage.  Also, I try to keep my voice matching my words. I have a fabulous friend named Margie Cole who has a life coaching business. I am so lucky because not only do I work with her professionally as my coach, but she has been a great friend to me for 13 years! I get a lot of advice that turns things around immediately.

Margie told me not to hide my feelings because kids sense them anyway. Ryan knows we're upset that she's using any surface she chooses as her toilet, but I've been so careful to be kind and patient. Margie said that's baloney! Let her know you're angry, say what you mean and mean what you say. Now, she by no means is saying to be overly aggressive or punitive, but many parents are afraid to be firm and I need to let that fear go.

If you are interested in reading more about Margie, her website is thesharedjourney.com. You can also click on the My Recommendations tab. It is a direct link to Margie's work. She is interested in helping people be their best selves, as parents, teachers, spiritually, etc. Don't just take my word for it; read her blog and see for yourself :) You won't regret it!

Anyway, back to Ryan and her progress. Mine too :) She hasn't peed or pooed on the floor, deck, or in her pants since Wednesday! Yay! What a relief. The next time she pooped in an inappropriate place, which was in her pants on Wednesday, I scooped her up and said, "We poop in the potty. We are going to use the potty now and get cleaned up. After that, you are in time out for 3 minutes." Boy, did she scream! But I persevered and just kept repeating those simple words. She completely cooperated, hoping I'd let her out of time out, (fat chance! can't back down now!) and she went to her room sobbing pitifully. It lasted 30 seconds, she settled down, stayed in her room and came out a changed girl!

Heaven :) Steve and I are so grateful that my sister Lora and my friend Margie have been there done that and gave us guidance. Try it! You'll like the results :)

A frustrating start to the day

Ryan is in Time Out as I type. If you read yesterday's blog, then you know Ryan has been peeing and pooing wherever she feels like it for the past two days. Why, you may ask? Because she's trying to get my attention.

We've been home quite a bit this summer, just the two of us. Plus Ryan is an only child. She is used to getting a lot of attention from me and she likes it. The problem is, I reach my limits with giving her all of my time and attention. I have spent the summer trying to wean her off of needing the constant attention from me and for the most part, it's gone really well. Until the past two days.

What to do?! First, I need to stop being terrified that if I reprimand her for not using the potty, she will  regress and never use the toilet properly. I am being too "nice" out of fear. Doing something out of fear is never good! Secondly, I need to be CRAZY consistent about not giving her the attention she's seeking. For example, since I don't yell at her or give her consequences because I'm afraid of "ruining" her, I am teaching her that she can take a dump on the deck and get my attention and not face any consequences. That has got to stop. Finally, I need to put it on her and give her choices.

Before you think I'm a genius, realize that all of these ah-ha moments came from me and my older sister, Lora. She was on the phone with me when Ryan pooped on the bathroom floor this morning, despite the fact that she had been on the potty two seconds before! Lora heard me being calm and patient, and also heard me not giving her a consequence. She talked me through it and helped me understand where I'm going wrong.

If you have any other advice, or similar stories, share! Moms need to support moms and we need to learn from each other. Remember, my blog is also about no judgements. Maybe your kid has never crapped on the deck, but I am betting he/she has done something else equally nasty. So let's all admit that our kids struggle, we struggle, and it's all a part of growing together.

Thank you, Big Seester for your help! Love you :) Lynny

If you really want to...

see my daughter's poo on the deck, fine. I cannot believe people have messaged me asking to see it! So, I will share. But I have conditions: 1). We must be close enough that you have my cell phone and can text me. 2). I am sharing for humorous purposes only. Please don't judge! 3.) If I discover this photo has been tagged in any way, you will find the poo on your front door step.

Entering the 21st Century of Technology!

Today has been a coming out for me. No, I'm not gay, but if I was, there'd be nothing wrong with that! I have finally joined the ranks of Facebook. So far, over 20 people have asked me to be their friends. Does no one work anymore?!

I'm not gonna lie -- my main motivation for finally getting into social media is that I'm ridiculously excited about my latest venture -- I have become an Advocare Advisor. I love the products so much and they've helped me and my husband tremendously, that I decided to share it with the world. What better way than utilizing Facebook?

So now I'm thinking this blog is going to become more about my life as a whole versus just my life as a mom. Although for all you mommies out there wondering, today has been an interesting one. My daughter, who is potty-trained well enough to know better, has peed on the floor three times. But, wait! It gets better! She also pooped on the deck and then pointed out all the interesting things about her bowel movement. And I have the pictures and video to prove it. Yes, my husband and I are sick puppies and decided she would need to see this when she was older and we now have it in the archives. Blackmail, anyone? I have decided against posting it, however, because Ryan is holding her dress up and I don't want deviant people looking at her hoo-hah.

Don't judge!

I've been reading Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein. I am not exactly sure what I think about it; I connect with it on some levels and scratch my head on others. Last night as I lounged on my bed reading, I came across this sentence on page 86, "I am hardly one to judge other mothers' choices: my own behavior has been hypocritical, inconsistent, even reactionary."

That sentiment rang true for me. I've been all of those things, too. Before I plowed on in my reading, I pondered what it would look like if I changed that sentence around. What if it said, "Be nonjudgmental. Be consistent. Be responsive."? Good advice for mothers, good advice for people.

So today I am posting those thoughts. I aspire to speak and act thoughtfully when I'm with my daughter, my students, my husband, my friends, my family, and the world at large. Thinking about how I want to be will help me practice actually being that way. And that's the first step in being our best selves.

My first blog!

I don't usually read blogs, let alone write one, but I am making the leap! It all started when I was reading a column in one of my many magazines to which I subscribe. To make a long story short, moms were sharing stories that were hilarious and real. The "real" part stuck with me. As the mom of a soon-to-be 3 year old, I have often discovered that there are so many things moms face that no one ever tells you. I want to help change that.

I think we all face the same joys and challenges and we all judge ourselves and each other. My intent with this blog is to be open and honest and nonjudgemental. I don't need any judgements and neither do you! No mom needs judgement. It's hard! I judge myself harshly. But if you vow to stop doing it to yourself and others, and I vow to stop punishing myself and others, then maybe we can influence other moms to go easy on each other -- and themselves :)

Finally, a student of mine who has an amazing mom has three blogs. My student showed me them and I was impressed and inspired. I decided to give it a shot. So here it is: my first blog! More to come...