A charge to Teachers...

Here we are, the last day of Summer vacation. Tomorrow looms ahead, filled with visions of notebooks, freshly sharpened pencils and Mickey Mouse lunch boxes. They will never again be quite as ready as they are on that first day. They will never again be quite as anxious. A lot will be spoken over the weeks to come about what is expected of them as students, and what is expected of us, as parents. But, allow me for just a moment to share with you what I expect of you, as teachers.

I expect you to be kind. You are dealing with my most-prized possessions. They will have an enormous amount of respect for you, just for the role you fill in their small lives. Please, remember that, and know that you are shaping their very person. Be slow to shout and quick to hug. (P.S. I could probably use a little of this advice, myself. Duly noted).

I expect you to be excited. Fire is contagious. If you possess the knowledge that learning can be fun, why not pass it along? Children weren't made to sit behind a desk for seven hours a day. They were made to jump and play and run. If we, as adults can't even sit through seven innings of a baseball game without needing a "stretch", why do we expect so much of our children? Find a way to teach them what they need to know and allow them the creativity to learn it on their terms. Come into the classroom every day with a smile on your face. You may be the only smile they get. That is powerful information.

I expect you to love your job. (At least a little). Sure, I know there will be good days and bad, but hopefully you are able to remember the reason you decided to become a teacher in the first place, lord knows it wasn't for the money. You have the power to shape lives. That is huge! And, to be honest, you will see my children for more hours a day than their own parents. Make use of that time. Help them discover what you and I already know, that they are fabulous little people just waiting to learn!

Finally, I expect you to be grateful. I am giving you a huge gift. The gift of my trust and the gift of my children. If I could I would keep them at home forever, but in my thirty-five years of life, I've learned something. These magical little people that I call my children, actually aren't mine at all. And, they aren't yours. These children belong to God, and they belong to themselves. So, never take for granted the place you hold in their lives and the place you hold in the heart of their mama. Thank you for all that to do as teachers. I promise you, I'll do my best to exceed your expectations, if you would do yours to exceed mine.

Get some sleep. I have a feeling we're both gonna need it.

Through the looking glass...

Do you ever have moments that stick with you and you’re not sure why? I have several random memories from childhood that have stayed with me over the years long after they should have been forgotten. I mean, come on. I’m the girl who goes to the store to buy milk, comes out with a cart full of groceries and no milk. And yet, a memory from fourth grade is so vivid, I feel as though it could have occurred yesterday.

As a child, I always thought that everyone had the unconditional love and support of their parents. I know I did. My parents weren’t perfect, but I knew for sure that they loved me and that I was their number one priority. I just thought that was the norm. I’ll never forget the day I learned that wasn’t always the case. I had a friend in school that was named Shawn. He was such a sweet little guy. Shawn and I were birthday buddies; we shared the same birth date. And in elementary school, birthdays are a big deal. So, perhaps that is why I always felt a connection to him. I remember Shawn coming to school one day and talking about how tired he was. I asked him why he didn’t get enough sleep the night before and he said that he had fallen asleep in the bathtub and woken up in freezing cold water. His mother and father had gone to bed without him, leaving him to fend for himself. That struck me so hard. I wasn’t even allowed to cross the street by myself, and here is a child exactly my age that has to do everything on his own.

It was that day that I realized that not everyone’s home life was as cheery as mine. I have never forgotten about Shawn, even though it has been twenty-five years since we have had contact. And now, even with my own children I think of him. I can’t imagine as mother, going to bed and leaving one of my boys in a cold bathtub. Even as a child I knew that was wrong. And yet, people live other people’s wrongs everyday. I’m thankful that I knew Shawn. I hope wherever he is, that he turned out all right. I’m also thankful for a wonderful set of parents that never left me to fend for myself. It is because of all of them that I know how to be the right kind of parent to my amazing little boys. Life lessons in fourth grade, they happen. Are you paying attention?

Long time, no blog :)

Hello Friends, what can I say? I am a crappy blogger. I am a terrific mental blogger. I think about things to blog about all-the-time. I even write them out in my head. And then I think of a way to make them shorter and they become Facebook status updates instead, lol. Oh well. Here I am, back again...

It's Christmas, which means I am spending way too much time at the Mall and not enough time sitting around the Christmas tree, sipping hot chocolate and singing three part harmony on Carol of the Bells. Does anyone really do that? Hmmmm, maybe the Duggars?

We have our one annual Christmas party to attend this coming Saturday. It's an ugly Christmas Sweater at our best friend's house and we are pumped. It used to be so easy to find Ugly-sweaters, but as these parties have sky-rocketed in popularity...not so much. Thrift stores everywhere-rejoice! So, our exact attire remains up in the air, but we will no doubt look totally stupid and have a blast. After all, I must defend my title from last year...that's right, I won Ugliest of all last year, perhaps that wasn't a good thing? Ha!

Anyway, my sweet bloggy friends. Please accept my apology, I have missed you. I do read every day. So, I'm with you...Just in lurker form!

I leave you with a funny story. We were at the dinner table about a week ago and Jackson was asking us about step-parents. I told him that it would be like if Mommy and Daddy weren't married anymore, Daddy's new wife would therefore be his Stepmother.

At which point Matt told him, "Yes, but your Mother would haunt me if I got re-married."

"Who killed me off in this story" I asked?

To which my sweet and darling husband replied, "Well, I figure that's the only reason we wouldn't still be together."

Awww, sweet and morbid all at the same time. Love him :)

I almost layed the smack down...

At a child's birthday party. Let me offer a little back-story.

Jackson is a very social child. He has lots of friends and that equals a lot of birthday parties to attend. I think this is wonderful. You see, I love cake. Birthday cake is one of my very favorite desserts and more parties to attend adds up to more opportunities to eat cake. Everyone wins.

Yesterday, we were invited to sweet little boy's birthday party and we were very glad to be able to attend. There was a good mix of people we did know along with some new faces. One of those new faces belonged to a man who was there with his three children. He had two little boys and a little girl that was cute enough to fan the flames of my already raging baby fever. Let's just say that this man was not exactly up for "Father of the Year".

The main attraction of the party was a huge slip-n-slide. It stretched all the way across my friend's front yard...including across her concrete walk-way. I hope you see where this is going...Yep, one of Mr. Wonderful's young sons took an awful spill hitting his head right on the concrete.

So, what did the man do? Absolutely nothing. He left that poor little boy (three years old, by the way) to sit there and sob. He told him to suck it up. That is right about the time I lost it. I grabbed him up (he was soaking wet, I'm assuming that is part of the reason Daddy Dearest didn't want in on the job) and comforted him.

I was willing to let it go at that...but NO! The man proceeds to walk over to me and tell me not to fall for his son's dramatics, that the little boy was just "playing" me. At that point, enough was enough. I laid him out. Put him in his place. I am a very tolerant person, but people ignoring their children is where I draw the line. And to think that this three year old child could play me. Puh-lease. I almost killed him. If his son and mine hadn't been watching, I think I could have taken him.

His wife came to the party later. She's pregnant again. Of course, she is...

P.S. I'm not sure we'll be invited next year, lol!

He ain't heavy...

He's my brother.

Sorry. I had to. I don't even really like that song. I liked it even less when American Idol did a version of it a few years back. But, the title is just too appropriate for my story. Here we go...

Target loves me. I feel like I help keep them in business. Facebook has a group titled, "I went into Target to buy toothpaste and I spent 100 dollars." I should join that group. Now add in that our Target has a Starbucks and a Pizza hut and you have perfect family harmony. I have been known to bribe my children with popcorn and slushies so that they will be peaceful during my shopping. Don't judge me.

I had to run to Target last Saturday night to pick up a birthday gift. The boys and I were strolling through the dollar section to see if we could find any little goodies to throw into the package when the boys spotted some foam swords. They were well into the Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker fight when another little boy walked up to join in on the action. I was half watching when I saw something that brought out the very fire in my heart. The little boy hit Hunter in the face so hard I could hear it from across the aisle. I was horrified.

Now, I know kids will be kids. And maybe my son was asking for it by playing along in the first place. But, I was seriously about to go off on this child. He was much older than Hunter and he took the game too far. I was well on my way to a total freak out when I realized that someone else was doing it for me.

Jackson. He proceeded to lay this child out. He told him that no one hits his brother and that he should know better. He said that Hunter is just a baby and that was totally wrong. He then threw their swords down and (in total Jill fashion I might add) spun on his heels and said, "Come on Hunter, let's get you out of here."

Maybe I should have stepped in, but I didn't. I had seen it. All of the lessons about protecting our family. The times I have explained that Hunter and Jackson should always have each other's back, they were all right there in the middle of Target alive and well. Jackson gets it. Praise God!

I am so glad that I have two boys. I am so glad that they have each other. That's right, Jackson. He ain't heavy, he's your brother.

And in this corner....

Weighing in at 33 pounds we have, Hunter...the roughest, toughest toddler in the east.

Well maybe, lol.

I had dinner with a friend on Monday night and when I came home I saw that Jackson was missing another tooth. I was surprised because it hadn't really been all that loose. When I asked him about it, he told me that Hunter had punched it out.

WHAT?????

I questioned Matt about it and he confirmed that Yep, Hunter had been the culprit.

Apparently the were playing Pirates of the Caribbean (because whose children don't frequently re-enact popular fight scenes from borderline appropriate Disney movies.) Jackson was cast as the part of Elizabeth Swann (again, probably better not to ask) and Hunter said,

"Take that, Elizabeth Swann" and rared back and let him have it.

That was the end of Jackson's tooth. I know there is a lot I could be grateful for..it was a baby tooth, it was already loose, and most of all Jackson was not upset. I know this because when I asked him if Hunter told him he was sorry, he responded...

"No, Mom. I told Hunter thank you! This was the greatest night ever."

Sigh. And I wonder why my hair is turning gray.

Life as we know it...

Someone asked me the other day, "What do you do for a living?"

I quickly responded, "I'm a stay at home Mom."

They kind of laughed and said, "Do you do it because you like it, or because you feel obligated?"

That question got me to thinking. Why do I choose to stay at home? Certainly our budget could be improved if I went back to work full time. And yet, year after year I make the same choice. I officially joined the ranks of SAHM Moms when Jackson was born almost eight years ago. For me, it was never a question. I always knew that was where I wanted to be...I'm so blessed that I married a man who supports me in my quest to be at home with the boys. That is where he and I both feel our family is best served.

But, back to the question. Do I like it, or do I feel a sense of obligation?

Well, let me put it this way.

Everyday, I wake up to a house full of my co-workers and they race to be the first to give me a hug. They fight over who loves me the most. I am surrounded by company opportunities, never mind if some of them are potty training, ABC's and the Golden Rule. Maybe I don't get any sick days, but my co-workers are very generous with their love and sympathy. Instead of collecting a pay check twice a month, I am rewarded daily with hugs and kisses. And in the moments that I am able to witness the bond that Hunter and Jackson share, another deposit is made into my heart. And at the end of the day, my business partner comes home to find a healthy, happy (although sometimes screaming) family.

So, yes. I like what I do. Honestly, it's more than that. I love it. This is my calling.

I have to go, though. We have an important business meeting to discuss the effects of Crayola on slipcovers. Let's hope we experience a breakthrough.