Cake...Kite...Country...Wack!

I know we are all to each other strange in our own way, but I am hoping the following frequent and recent experiences are common among us all. I am interested in reassuring myself that this seeming oddity is not an isolated personal dilemma.

I have lately been having quite a few incidents where a very common word or idea will sound or seem foreign and highly unnatural flowing from my lips or through my brain. I have all of my life not been fond of words such as "cake, kite or country". I have always felt these "k" sounds get caught in the back of the throat and would just as soon gag me as roll off of my tongue. Most words in the English language are my confidants; I love them...love to use them, but I don't seem to have any control over when they come to me fluently when required; nor do they seem to lend themselves to the exact meaning for which I intend them. (I'm pretty sure someone just regurgitated a little in his or her mouth after reading that last hokey sentence.) These experiences with our little linguistic friends have occurred throughout my life; only lately, it is at least daily that trivial moments leave my mind spinning with question and uncertainty.

In reviewing Maggie's latest spelling word list, one of my arch-enemies reminded me of our long time struggle. "Country": I find it difficult to believe this word which is the pride of most citizens worldwide, no matter in which of these they may live, is such an unattractive sounding word: harsh, funky and shares meaning with a not-so-esteemed genre of music. I became distracted by the word, consumed by the multiple meanings of the word, and most notedly, confused by my impossibility to utter this word in any manner which deemed it speakable.

Despite my conflict with certain words, what really has begun to concern me is that this feeling of unfamiliarity has bled over to other thoughts and ideas...namely about life. I have found myself pondering while driving to and from work, washing dishes or conducting any other ordinary daily task the purpose of my life, the absolute frailty of human existence, and the unfathomable amount of bunk one faces in a lifetime. I do not find myself really questioning God or the importance of my faith, beliefs and values. I do, however, find myself questioning every day things such as money, the value of material possessions, taxes, and occupations. I find ticker-tape thoughts running across my mind..."Are there really people who make staples? How does one introduce that mom or dad on career day?" And then I begin to reason with my mind..."Well, surely there are machines that actually make the staples, but there must be people who work those machines...Can you retire from such a job?" I then find myself weighing the importance of staples; it is, after all, a very important staple in most of our daily business operations. (Pun was intended!) I think to myself above the chatter of the Kidd Craddock morning show..."Would I give up silk plants entirely to preserve my use of the staple?" Oh! I think it goes without saying...sure there are paper clips, but these are hardly comparable! The paper clip is so easily removed, while the staple has its very own removal device. This conjures a new thought..."Are there REALLY people who make staple removers?"

At this point, I usually force myself to stop the madness...

I am curious to know...Do we all have these thoughts? Does it have anything to do with age? Could it mean I am stressed and my brain is on overload? Or worse, could it mean I don't have enough to occupy my brain in a constructive manner, so my brain is having to make up its own daily activities?

I think Gnarles Barkley recently sang it best...."Who do you, who do you, who do you, who do you think you are...ha, ha, ha....bless your soul! You think you're in control. Well, I think you're CRAZY!" Possibly...but I believe the kind way we say that here in the U S of A is eccentric. And after you read this blog and identify with it, you can very probably consider yourself a member of a new club...we are ECCENTERRIFIC! Right?

If You Give a Heifer a Day Off

My sisters and I are...well, lets say a little large and in charge. We got into the horrible habit of calling each other "heifer". For those of you that are either too elite or just a hair too un-edumecated, a heifer is a cow that has not yet given birth, but most importantly noted for the sake of this blog...tis a cow!

Today I sit at home with little to do,an experience that has become rather foreign to me. I did all I could think of doing, being very careful not to do anything significant...it is, however, my day OFF. At first I was ambitious, I thought I would start a two day, eventful Garage Sale (made the signs and everything), then I thought I would just get all the laundry done and put away, but, PLEASE, it's my day OFF! Then I thought I would help write a letter that a caregiver at work really needs in order to purchase a car, (this led me to the computer), but in the end...I began thinking...Have I learned nothing from the hours spent studying the philosophy of Laura Numeroff? I decided I should not, could not tempt fate...after all I know what happens if you give a pig a pancake, if you take a mouse to school, and surely I remember all that happens if you give a moose a muffin! I pondered what the day might hold if I gave the heifer a day off and decided...she would probably want to take a nap. So, naturally, she would dream of Brad Pitt. Then she would wake up to reality and miss Brad, so she would want to watch Mr. and Mrs. Smith or The Mexican. While she was watching the movie, she would get hungry and want a snack. Then, when she finished the snack, she would need a soda. When the movie is over, she would feel guilty for sitting so long so she would be compelled to do some chores. After she finished all the chores, she would be exhausted...And if she feels exhausted, she would want a day off.

Oh, I'm no fool...thanks to Laura Numeroff and her infinite wisdom and insight! I know exactly what I should do....ABSOLUTELY NOTHING OF ANY SIGNIFICANCE!

With this in mind...Mommymosh, OUT!

Go, Gabbie Go!

Last season on "So You Think You Can Dance," we were introduced to the phenomenon that is "Sexy Back". For those of you who do not keep up with pop culture...Justin Timberlake, former Mousekateer (I have no idea how to spell that word...and at this time, I have not the inclination to research the correct spelling.) has a song that plays on all of the top 40 radio stations quite frequently that speaks of "bringing sexy back." Gabbie has adopted this song as her personal anthem since Justin does include her name in the song. (At least, in Gabbie's world he does!) The lyrics she repeats OFTEN are "I'm bringing sexy back, YEAH...and all the boys...that's a fact, YEAH...Go, Gabbie Go!" I'll not take the time to type out what the song REALLY says, but I will say there are a few bleeps along the way, so needless to say, it wasn't exactly meant to be an anthem for a four year old. However, this four year old believes Justin sang the song just for her. (Remember: One Charlotte, One Gabbie...alluding to a previous blog.)

One week ago this song enabled a paradoxical memory for me for which I am eternally grateful ...thanks, Timberlake! Gabbie had pink eye one day last week and went to work with me. We took the vital possessions any girl cannot go a day without: our purse stocked with makeup and lipstick, a backpack with our snack, a coloring book, a change of clothes and our tea party supplies, and of course our white blankie we've had since we were born. Gabbie endured the day like a champ. She even managed to get a little nap in under my desk, but it was not until we were leaving for the day that I was so vividly reminded how precious and hilariously sweet my baby is...all packed up and ready to leave, I saw my little red-headed bunny rolling down the hallway in her wheelchair, backpack connected securely to the back of the wheelchair, purse daintily hanging from the brake handle and white blankie in hand helping to propel the wheels forward while trailing the ground behind...the tune playing from the mouth of the babe..."I'm bringing sexy back, YEAH...and all the boys...and that's a fact, YEAH...Go, Gabbie, Go!" That was an image I'll never forget! I haven't done that laugh, cry thing in a really long time...thanks Gab...keep 'em coming!

Skipping Baths...

It has been quite a while since I last was able to sit and write a little. It is only at the urging of the baby of the family that I take the time now to hack out a few lines. As the end of the girls' first six weeks rapidly approaches, I find myself wondering who made up this wacky schedule for school. I know I am not alone in feeling the crushing pressure to complete assignments sent home for the kids to complete by the next school day; I just this past weekend witnessed my nephew, Jeffrey, spending every available moment working on school work (all the while I was thinking...IT'S the weekend!) Tonight we had to skip the bath to finish the reading and writing assignments for Maggie (a first grader), and we finally called it quits at 10pm as she began to cry about reading about the ducks! It is hard to keep from sending the message that this is fairly ridiculous, as I attempt to not scar her view of education forever, but come on...is all of this work really necessary? These kids spend so many hours of the day learning, do they really need so much homework. I remember when I was teaching, the rule of thumb was to assign about 30 minutes of self-study homework each night and we all had projects for the six weeks that the students would be working on at the same time. Most students were involved in at least one activity or another at school and/or in the community or in their churches. I'm thinking maybe we, as teachers, need to use OUR math skills. Thirty minutes each night times seven classes, plus time spent practicing sports, music, etc., must equal an insanely tiny amount of time spent with family and an extremely stressed out student. And I am certain, judging by my experience, that stressed students do not perform to their potential.

What amazes me is that we are not all geniuses. If our public education doesn't start making more sense to me, I can't help but to think...I could possibly join a group devoted to changing this crazy, chaotic system we painfully accept as education.

Well, it's really late and now that I have assisted Maggie in learning all about bird's nests, ducks and dogs...it's time to go conjure up the agency schedule and do my homework!

Lessons of Late

I am a little frustrated as I begin this blog....I tried to publish another draft twice and experienced "technical difficulty." After the second failed attempt I began questioning whether it wasn't divine intervention rather than technical difficulty. Maybe my subject matter (basically bashing the current public educational system in America) is not time appropriate.

Fortunately, I have more going on in life than worrying about the education of our future leaders, albeit, I do feel this is a worthy debate; I will at this time shift my focus on my two star pupils...Maggie and Gabbie.

Maggie is a natural student. She aims to please, learn and follow directions. At this time (still in the first 6 week period of the first grade), she has mastered most skills needed to move on to the second grade. We are focusing on more of the social skills needed at this age, such as "emptying our bladders" regularly so as to not pee our pants and not chasing boys that employee bodyguards at recess to protect them from the desperation of silly six year old girls. Oh my word! Was I ever a goofy girl? Surely not. But just in case...sorry mom and dad...I'm feelin' ya'!

Gabbie's recent focus has been getting ready for Kindergarten. She is not a very serious student without some added motivation. She typically enjoys answering any given question incorrectly in anticipation of a reaction from her inquisitor. Mrs. Smith, Maggie's Kindergarten teacher, has become our secret weapon for motivating Gabbie to take seriously the importance of letters, numbers, shapes and colors. I find it very useful to pressure her into learning, surely learning is not meant to be fun! I, the pragmatic mother, cannot understand her resistance to such valuable knowledge. Surely, I, as a young girl, was pragmatic, quick to learn and always ready to "perform" when required. Right mom and dad? Oh....I wasn't....hmmm...I'm detecting a pattern.

In all seriousness, I really do enjoy focusing on my children and their educations. I feel that they, as all students, benefit from a simple educational regimen of exploring and discovering knowledge, skills and concepts through READING, THINKING, and ATTEMPTING new things rather than performing the typical systemic routine of temporarily memorizing and regurgitating bits and pieces of time sensitive information. (It was my experience, as a teacher, that the later mentioned system was more often employed by the public school system....so much so that I swear I could sometimes hear the Mission Impossible theme sound as the students completed the task of cramming for a test, vomiting information on a page for a grade of at least a 70%, and..."Please be aware, this information will self-destruct in....3...2....1...." BOOM! Forgotten!)

It's actually a fairly sizable problem we have managed to ignore for quite some time. Okay, Okay...I better get off my soap box before I encounter more "technical" or "divine" difficulties.

Diagnosis: Organizationally Challenged

Oh my! We are rounding the corner of the second week of school, and I believe I had 30 minutes to breathe last night at about 11:00PM. God sure didn't equip me with organizational skills. I have in two weeks adhered to a ROUTINE...many of you do not understand that for those of us with organizational disabilities, an incredible amount of energy goes into creating a routine. And as for maintaining that routine, I believe it is comparable to a newborn baby closing a new merger between two Fortune 500 companies (a virtual impossibility). But, so far, I am babbling my way through each day with only one incident of losing the keys in the AM, causing the first tardy of the year. Our goal is to beat last years record of 17 absences and an immeasurable number of tardies by... oh....a lot. (Important lesson learned last year: tardies become absences when clumped in threes)

The girls are both enjoying their new years. Maggie has begun first grade and is excited to have a planner; she got an anal, list making gene and Heaven knows that has nothing to do with me. This semester Maggie will move up to an intermediate gymnastics class. She is really practicing at home and perfecting her cartwheels, snap-downs, and hand stands.

Gabbie has started her second year of PPCD and is going for at least one hour a day to the main stream Pre-school class. She has the same fantastic teachers as last year and many of the same friends in her class. Her greatest feat this year has been riding the bus from school to day care upon dismissal from PPCD each day. After much anticipation by us all, the only troubling encounter thus far is convincing her that her bus driver's name IS Charlotte, a fact she refuses to believe since "Charlotte is the blue one that lives in the sprinkler." It took us a couple of days to figure out that she couldn't accept that there is more than one Charlotte in the world; and of course, she already knows the ONE Charlotte that does exist...Charlotte...the arachnid co-star in the movie Charlotte's Web. After much consideration and deductive reasoning, it was Maggie who cracked the code. You see in Gabland "the blue one" equals Charlotte, the blue spider, and "the sprinkler" equals the web. I'm not 100% sure I would have EVER figured that one out.

All in all, life moves forward and we run to keep up...and...oh, my...in just the time I've spent to write down a few thoughts, I've again fallen behind. Catch up with you all later...pun intended.

If you find yourself feeling organizationally challenged, click on the title of this post to link to a fabulous tool for those of us struggling to juggle.