Calming Presence

We broke out the flannel sheets this week...ah...the comfort of snuggling into bed where the sheets are soft and warm. It softens the blow of the coming winter cold somewhat. The soft flannel sheets, comfy bed: relax and hibernate for the winter.

If only we could apply the flannel sheets principle to life. I know I could use a buffer against some of the stuff life throws at me. Just this week, my husband and I were discussing my near melt-down with the girls, and how I could possibly have handled the situation better. "They just need a calming presence." he said.

I've been thinking about that for the last few days: a calming presence. I think most of the craziness that goes on in our house is really coming from ME! If I could wrap us all up in a flannel sheet of comfort when things are not going the way I would like, instead of going off the deep end, we would all be happier. My husband is definitely the calming presence in our home, and now, I am trying to follow his example for a more relaxed home.

T

Christmas in July!

Much to our surprise, the man in the brown truck rang our doorbell this afternoon. Seems he had too many packages to carry in one load. We received 6 big boxes from Agora Cyber Charter School addressed to J. At first I nearly panicked. I mean, this means that school REALLY starts soon, and I REALLY am teaching J this year!

An hour later, J and I sat down to open the brown cardboard boxes. Inside were more boxes! Brightly colored ones...just like Christmas. We opened box after box: "Language Arts K Standard" held a dazzling variety of award winning picture books, some of which are already favorites. "Math K Standard" held a plastic container of brightly colored geometric shapes, and colorful stacking blocks, while a slide whistle, tambourine and CDs were inside the "Music Preparatory" box.

While we're on the Christmas theme...last night, my "craft" table was looking very much like a scene from the Island of Misfit Toys in the Rudolf movie, with broken toys piled up beside my sewing machine. I decide to spend last night after the girls went to bed attempting to repair said items, the loss of which would be devastating to my girls. The biggest success story is the fairy wings, which long ago had begun to shred. I managed to repair them with a pair of old stockings, a glue gun and shiny star jewels. J was so thrilled that she wore them all day.

What fun! Now I'm a little bit excited, and J is VERY excited to do school. (And fairy wings with stars really DO help you concentrate better.)

T

Hot Moms

We came home from Lancaster area yesterday with an 11 foot fireplace mantel strapped to the top of our van. Now it is a most imposing feature in the garage, where it awaits my efforts at finishing it.

I stopped at Wayne Lumber this afternoon to pick up sand paper, and was waited on by a young man, maybe 19 or so, who was sporting a T-shirt announcing in big letters "I (heart) Hot Moms".

What the heck?

I have no illusions that I might be a "Hot Mom" to a 19 year old, nor do I wish to be. However, I was left speechless by his advertising efforts. I continue to ponder the meaning of "Hot Moms", and why someone would wear it on their T-shirt. Maybe some things are better left a mystery!

T

SEND POSITIVITY, STOP

GOOD CHANCE AT EDGE OF INSANITY STOP SEND POSITIVE ENERGY IMMEDIATELY STOP MEETING SOON STOP SALLY SEND PATIENCE STOP TONYA SEND INEXAUSTIBLE ENERGY STOP NANCY SEND INGENUITY STOP

THANKS FROM PORTER STREET STOP

Best for Kids or Best for Mom?

At violin lessons yesterday, the instructor casually announced that she was leaving and offering no more instructions after the recital on May 4th. I immediately felt my stomach lurch, and then plummet down to the region around my socks. For the past six months, I have watched my daughter feel pride in herself as she was able to master one song and technique after another on this difficult instrument. I felt pride myself, as I noticed her become more and more willing to try. So now what? The instructor recommended a program at Duquesne University, which meets nearly every Saturday during the school year. Now my stomach was tying itself in knots. I get very anxious even THINKING about driving in Pittsburgh, but to do it on a WEEKLY basis??? What about our very sacred weekends? No more weekend trips or sleeping in. Less time to spend with Daddy, who this week made it home for dinner once, and home for bedtime twice. But...do we just throw away all the time, effort, travelling, tears and money that we spent on the past six months of instruction?

I feel incredibly guilty at the thought of not wanting to continue because of the inconvenience of city driving and weekends lost. J, I think, feels a little bit relieved to think about not doing it anymore. The practicing, you see, was interrupting her play time. Where do you draw the line between what is best for your child, and what is best for you? What is really best for my child?

I face a similar quandary when trying to decide about Home Schooling J next year for Kindergarten. As far as our family schedule goes, doing schooling at home would be infinitely more convenient than sending her to the public school. I was also under-whelmed by the curriculum at the public school after meeting with 2 of the Kindergarten teachers this week. Some of the curriculum I've looked at with the cyber charter schools looks really amazing! I have very little patience, which is a problem when adding children to the mix anyway, but even more worrisome when anticipating being the sole instructor for my child. Is is worth the convenience to my family to perhaps have J's schooling tainted by my faults? Is it worth jeopardizing our relationship?

Is there a special trick to making those kinds of decisions?

I should think positively. Maybe this experience could be the greatest thing for J and I that we could ever imagine. Perhaps Duquesne would know of someone else who does private lessons in the area. After a week of many ups and downs, I'm feeling pretty down today.

On Sleep Deprivation and Polly Pockets

I probably shouldn't post when I'm this tired...probably will ramble. Lauren has been sick since Saturday, and instead of staying in bed and sleeping it off, like I would choose to do (if I had the chance), she is not napping, and waking every couple of hours at night. I feel like a new mother again...so lost in the fog of sleep deprivation that the cogs in my brain are sort of stuck somewhere! This is particularly troublesome since I have been unsuccessfully trying to study for my Board Exams...finally chose my review material, which arrived from Amazon on Saturday.

I was just musing today about the profound absurdity of these small dolls, Polly Pockets, that Jenna is so completely obsessed with. Besides the tiny shoes, which are just a few milimeters in size, I haven't been able to find anything so entirely rupulsive about them that they will be banned. They do dress in trendy, rubber clothing. Of course, "trendy" is relative, since I usually buy them at Big Lots or other clearance sales, so they are not exactly clothed in the absolutely latest of fashion.

So, the girls and I were playing with Polly Pockets this evening. We got a bit slap-happy (again, blame the sleep deprivation) and put upside-down shirts on dolls' heads, and Belle's wig on Flounder. Put tiny slippers on and made them tap dance. The girls were both so involved in this tiny world of Polly Pockets, I was trying to remember the last time I was so totally lost in something! (I think it might have been the last time my sensitive husband and I watched Pride and Prejudice about 18 months ago or longer.)

Wouldn't it be wonderful to not have a care in the world save which rubber gown to wear for the ball? Some times I wish I didn't have to be an adult all the time! Thank goodness for little girls who love to play with tiny dolls!

T

Bra Burning

What is it about the approaching end to the work week that causes all hell to break loose in my home? Things break, children and pets get sick, and harried mothers dream of escaping to somewhere quiet with lots of coffee and books.

I am not a certified bra-burning feminist, but I am grateful for the opportunities I've had for education and individualization (is that a word?) in this male-centric country. In fact, in the 5 years I've been a stay-at-home-mom, I've pretty much shed all the girl-stuff to be reduced to showering occasionally and hardly ever wearing anything that even resembles a dress. I cut my hair in front of the bathroom mirror. I wear the same pair of jeans everyday with a T-shirt because its comfortable. Some times I actually think about getting dressed up, putting on make-up, fixing my hair...but it's just too much trouble.

Of course it only takes your pre-schooler coming home and announcing "R has a pretty Mommy" to see all the inadequacies I demonstrate as a woman. That's when I think about taking the advice a friend gave me several years ago. She told me that every woman really should get fitted for a bra. She said once you have a good, well fitting bra, you'll feel better about yourself, and never go back. Could this be true? Could changing my underwear change my attitude about myself? Would it make the ends of the weeks calm and peaceful instead of crazy?

So, some Friday, I'm going to escape. I'm going to go to Victoria's Secret and get fitted for a bra. Anyone game?