CandE (can-dee) Day!

After reading about Mr. Z Day, my friend Carrie and I decided we needed to have C and E Day. I mean, how can you not copy something that great? We decided to celebrate C and E day during breakfast for two reasons:

1. We teach different grade levels and it is impossible to synchronize our lunch times.
2. Apparently we are not the same caliber of teacher as Mr. Z is. We felt like there would be more ambiance without kiddos around!

I gathered up some greenery, dainty tea cups and the least spotted silverware I could find. Carrie got out her hope chest and pulled out some place mats. I awoke at 5:30 to ensure I would have plenty of time to stop by Einstein’s Bagels.  Carrie ran by Starbucks and grabbed a raspberry white chocolate mocha for me and a regular chocolate mocha for herself. Though the finished result is not as polished as what Mr. Z pulled off, I’d say we did pretty good for a couple of first timers…

The pair of heart-shaped cups is a nice touch, don’t you think?

Carrie is toasting the fact that her recent haircut looks so much better than mine!

What a lady I am. Such dainty cutlery skills.

And a huge thank you to the lady that made CandE possible! Thank you Claire for covering Carrie’s morning duty! How did we survive last year without you?

Thank you Mr. Z for inspiring me to slow down and smell the roses! I hope that we’re not the only ones to follow in your footsteps!

And like Mr. Z, we did get a few stares and a lot of questions. Some lingered and celebrated with us. It was good times. Perhaps we’ll have CandE day again real soon.

No mo mojo…

I got a not-so-good haircut. I went to my normal hairdresser, who is absolutely amazing! I’m not sure what happened. I should have taken in a photo of my last haircut, cuz it was lookin’ pretty good. But instead of planning ahead, I tried to find duplicates of it in some magazines layin’ around in the lobby. Big mistake! Here is a pic of me right after my last good cut.

Not bad if I say so myself!

I was freaking out yesterday with the new not so good cut, and I had hopes that my distaste with the cut was because of the style. Maybe it was more of a curly cut. So I got home and washed it, and low and behold, it’s not a curly cut either. It’s an ugly cut. And then I proceeded to cry.

I haven’t cried over a haircut since I cut my own bangs when I was about fifteen. I cried for days and days over that mishap. So, I am currently on day 2 of crying over this new cut. My family has given me a few words of encouragement. Noah said it makes me look like a woman in a vintage cigarette ad. This is a vintage cigarette ad. Enough said.

Although, I’m certain Noah meant it looked more like this, I really miss the longer locks framing my face. Chris said I look like a flapper from the 20s. Maddie said if I pin it back it doesn’t look so bad. Carrie said that it is just an average cut, and I’m not used to seeing myself with an average cut because my hair usually looks fabulous when I leave my hairdresser’s. So, between cries, I have been trying to play with it to see if I can figure out how to style it in a way I’m not embarrassed to step out into public.

I guess I needed a reality check. I had no idea I had become so vain about my hair. I mean, I definitely feel good after visiting Mrs. Nancy, and I talk about how good I look, but it’s mostly in jest. I guess even the best of us make mistakes every once in a while. I’ll post pics in a bit. I am still trying to fool with it enough so that it’s bearable to look upon.

Family and Death: A Complicated Topic…

These are my maternal grandparents.

Last week my dear sweet grandmother passed away. It’s odd, because things like this don’t choke me up the way people expect them to. I’m not sure why that is. A cousin of mine has a theory that she and I do weddings, not funerals. Maybe she’s on to something. I do cry at weddings. They are such a beautiful beginning. But I don’t cry as often at funerals. If a death is tragic, then I tend to get more emotional. But if someone has lived a long full life, and illness preceded their death, then honestly, I’m thankful to see that their time has come.

In the last year, I have lost two of my grandparents. I lost my paternal grandfather a little more than a year ago, and after visiting with him right before he passed, I felt it was time for him to be reunited with his Maker. Last week, I lost my maternal grandmother. Though she only passed away a week ago, I mourned her death several years ago when Alzheimer’s began to kick in. It was very difficult to witness someone’s memory die off bit by bit day after day. My grandmother’s quality of life had diminished to the point that she barely knew who she was. She was constantly in a confused state of mind. I draw comfort knowing that she is now able to sit in the uninterrupted presence of my Father.

When I think about both of my grandparents, I am saddened most by the relationships I had with them. Though I was close to them as a child, my relationship with both weakened as I grew into an adult. I don’t necessarily feel guilty, but I do feel sad. As an adult we gain wisdom, and we are able to see more fault in others. I don’t agree with a lot of choices people in my family have made. Dysfunctional patterns have been repeated, and I try my best not to repeat them. But despite my family’s shortcomings, there are certain memories that are so good they overshadow the not so good ones.

I remember my grandfather playing the fiddle and singing. It drove me nuts as a child; it brings me to tears as an adult. In fact, my grandfather is primarily the reason I love bluegrass music so much today. My grandmother sang beautifully. Anytime I hear someone sing an operatic tune, I think of her. I have many memories of my grandfather being grumpy and snappy. They make me laugh. I have many memories of my grandmother freaking out and chastising us. They make me laugh too. It’s funny how the fondest memories we have aren’t always the most pleasant ones.

Perhaps I don’t cry at funerals like this because I don’t want to let my wall down. I’ve gotten good at building walls when it comes to protecting me from the heartaches that come from loving others in my extended family. I’m 33 years old, and I’ve still not figured that one out. Maybe in 33 more years I’ll be a bit closer to understanding things.

Miracles

This has been a week of miracles. Miracles I have personally already witnessed, and miracles I am praying to happen. God is a mysterious being. He created us, knows us so well, yet I don’t think we will ever fully know or understand Him until we are reunited with Him.

I have been away for a while. When I have found time to write, my postings are often tired and make mention of a personal struggle my family has been going through. Things hit a treacherous peak around Thanksgiving, and circumstances in man’s eyes seemed very hopeless. However, when we are a child of God, there is always hope. We just have to have faith. And sometimes our faith seems to run out, and when it does, God has a way of miraculously restoring it in magnificent ways.

This week, God intervened in a way I never would have thought possible. He has provided my family with an answer we never thought possible. I so wish I could go into details, but for privacy reasons I won’t. You will just have to take me at my word. God is good!

I am now asking for another miracle. My best friend Pamela is in dire need of one. Her youngest son was in a car accident Monday night and is now on life support. Her family is very special to me, and they have been through a series of heartaches. She lost a son a little more than two years ago, and she lost both her father and husband less than a year ago. All losses were very tragic and hard to understand. Yet her faith is still holding on. I don’t really understand how. Most of us would have already given up and turned our backs on God, but she continues to believe and have faith in Him. Please pray for God to intervene and I am asking for a miracle. I do want God’s will, but at the same time I do not want to see someone I love so much suffer another loss.

Please say a prayer for this family. Pray that God intervene and allow some good to come out of this horrible situation.

Slowly getting in the spirit…

I thought the cartoon above was cute. It’s sad, but this is the attitude many of us take with the holidays. However, my negative outlook on the season is just as harmful as forgetting why we celebrate Christmas. In fact, it may be worse, because there’s nothing worse than being around a sourpuss during the holidays.

Did you notice the new look of my page? It’s festive! It makes me want to sing a Christmas carol. This was step one toward trying to get in the mood, if you know what I mean.

Step 2: Yesterday I took my kids shopping. They had asked if they could buy a gift for each other. So we gave them a modest $10 budget to spend on each other, and they were told to get creative. We broke up into teams. Maddie and I shopped for Noah, and Chris and Noah shopped for Maddie. It was a lot of fun watching the kids get excited about surprising each other. In fact I caught myself singing, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!” while scouring the mall. Uh-oh…

Step 3: Today I stopped by WalMart on my way home to pick up some yarn, ribbon, and jingle bells so that I could begin wrapping presents. I came home and wrapped a few presents, and I was beginning to have…. GASP… fun! There, I said it. But then Chris and I began disagreeing on how holiday festivities should go down, so now I’m back in my sourpuss mood. We are having a really hard time coming together this year on how the holiday festivities should roll out. It’s like we’re picking a color for our bedroom walls all over again. Only this time it’s quarreling over what kind of food we should serve at Christmas. Here is a picture of how things looked at our house tonight:

Not really. It’d probably be more realistic if the above couple were pointing hairdryers at one another. But, hey, we’ll get work it out. We always find a way to compromise.

I am not a negative person normally. Cynical at times, but not negative. I don’t know what happens to me this time of year. I think it’s all the stress. Finals and grades are due, students are rambunctious, gifts still need to be bought, but work days are long. This is also the year Maddie and Noah spend Christmas with their dad. I thought I’d be use to this by now, but I’m not. I just want some type of steady tradition. But as Chris pointed out, our family is too big for steadies this time of year. He keeps telling me to be more flexible and less bullheaded, but that is so hard for me to do. The more stressed I get, the deeper I want to dig my heels in.

Tonight, I am going to go downstairs and clean up the remnants of my wrapping fiasco. I am going to come back upstairs, take a nice, long, hot bath, and then I am going to climb in bed and get a head start on this week’s homework. When I wake up tomorrow, I will give this whole holiday cheerfulness thing another go. Don’t worry, I’ll end up smiling before the month is over:).

Happy Holidays! So why not me?

A couple of years ago I wrote about how the holidays depress me.

Well, this year this still seems to be the case. Last year I did much better, but I have relapsed. I am having such a hard time getting into the “holiday spirit”. What brings joy and laughter to most, brings tears and sorrow to me. My list of reasons is long, but I am trying hard not to turn into a woman version of Ebenezer Scrooge. Perhaps I should pull out my copy of Charlie Brown’s Christmas and sit down with a box of tissues. For some reason, lil’ Linus always has a way of helping me remember what the season is supposed to be about. Do you struggle with the holiday blues? If so, how do you deal with them? Have you found any traditions that help you get over the hump? I need suggestions people, or my family is going to vote me out of the house. I don’t want my foul mood to spoil everyone else’s holiday.

The Art of Marriage: an unread but saved poem…

Things have been very difficult for my family lately. No, Chris and I are not having marriage problems, but we have had our share of trials in the last few months. I really wish I could write about them, but they are so personal, and I cannot be certain that I am at liberty to even discuss them. I can say this: though the trials have become harder to bear, I am blessed in so many ways. I have the most wonderful children. By raising them I am beginning to understand how God is able to love us unconditionally. I have such a wonderful mate. If Chris were not a part of my life right now, I don’t know what I would do. He has held me in his arms more than once this past week and allowed me to just cry on him. He is my best friend. I have a job that I love and that I’m good at. I have extended family and friends who love me. I  found an awesome church last spring that I’ve been so happy attending. These are all wonderful gifts, and I cannot begin to express my gratitude.

I was cleaning up some computer files and stumbled upon a poem I had contemplated having someone read during our wedding ceremony. But out of respect for Chris, I decided not to. (He is not as “chicken soup” as me, hates wordy, mushy poems, and we were already marching back up the aisle to “Frog Went a’ Courting” because my nickname growing up was Miss Mousie, and my father and grandfather would sing this song to me while they played the guitar and fiddle. I also had tiny ballerina mice and frog prince charms tied around centerpieces as if the marching song wasn’t enough. Need I say more?).

So, as I was opening documents and reading them to determine whether they should be deleted or not, I found this poem, and I couldn’t help but get a little teary eyed. I do not know a lot about Wilferd Peterson, but he definitely seemed to know what a real marriage is all about. And in case you don’t know, dear reader, what the art of marriage is, I encourage you to keep reading on. (I got the idea of addressing you, the reader, from The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo. If you haven’t read it, it is an awesome book that I was able to read aloud and bond with my son. Another thing I’m grateful for!)

The Art of Marriage

Wilferd A. Peterson

Happiness in marriage is not something that just happens.

A good marriage must be created.
In marriage the little things are the big things…

It is never being too old to hold hands.

It is remembering to say “I love you” at least once a day.

It is never going to sleep angry.

It is at no time taking the other for granted;
the courtship should not end with the honeymoon,
it should continue through all the years.

It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives.
It is standing together facing the world.

It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family.

It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude
of duty or sacrifice, but in the spirit of joy.

It is speaking words of appreciation
and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways.

It is not looking for perfection in each other.
It is cultivating flexibility, patience,
understanding and a sense of humour.

It is having the capacity to forgive and forget.

It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow.

It is finding room for the things of the spirit.
It is a common search for the good and the beautiful.

It is establishing a relationship in which the independence is equal,
dependence is mutual and the obligation is reciprocal.

It is not only marrying the right partner, it is being the right partner.

It is discovering what marriage can be, at its best.

Accomplishments!

This weekend I accomplished some things I haven’t had a chance to get around to. Number 1: Cleaning my bedroom. Last week my husband had begun complaining (which he never does) because the chairs in our bedroom were covered in laundry. Now, there is usually laundry in the chairs in our bedroom, but I think the fact that he could no longer tell there were chairs anymore bothered him. I’m certain he would have put the laundry away himself, except it was things he didn’t know where to put. (That would be because it was MY laundry. Oops!) So, Saturday morning after receiving breakfast in bed, I got up and began the overdue feat of cleaning. By 1:00, you could see the chairs again, the bed was made, everything had been dusted, and clutter had been put away.

Number 2: In addition to getting my room cleaned up, I got schoolwork due this week completed a day early, and I began working on one of next week’s assignments. It felt good getting a head start because I have so many pressing things to look forward to next week. There have been some tough personal challenges within my family in the last week and a half, and we have a lot to deal with in the next coming weeks as a result of these challenges. I knew that for me to remain sane, I had to get a jumpstart on everything while I could.

Number 3: I found my retainer! I woke up Friday night after having a nightmare about my teeth shifting so badly that I could not speak or close my mouth. In my dream I went to the orthodontist to find out that I had to spend about six thousand dollars to straighten my teeth back out all because I wasn’t wearing my retainer enough. So, I frantically began looking for it. Tonight, I finally found it, in my bathrobe. Apparently I had slipped it into the pocket before drinking my morning coffee so that I wouldn’t melt it. So, the good news is I can still talk (that might be argued as being good news by some) and I can close my mouth. And I don’t have to get braces again. Believe, me this is very good news if you knew how much I’ve spent on my daughter’s mouth, and that I’m about to do the same on my son’s.

So, I guess it was a very productive weekend. And in the midst of all the working, I still managed to make it to church for an awesome Thanksgiving service, and I watched a very cute movie with my husband: Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day. It was surprisingly very good. Afterward, I managed to squeeze in a nap:) I had forgotten what a nap feels like. It was absolute bliss!

Here’s to hoping the rest of my week is just as productive and relaxing.

Kids these days, or is it their parents???

Tonight I attended a banquet for a certain sport’s players and the cheerleaders for their team. There was a table full of adorable young men with one fault: a few of them couldn’t keep quiet. They would talk over the speakers, make snide remarks about the speech of the girls’ team mom, and boo and say disrespectful things about the girls as their names were called. I happened to be sitting at the table next to them, so when the behavior didn’t cease after being asked several times by more than one adult to stop, I just moved my chair over to their table and joined them.

The behavior for the most part stopped, but one in particular continued to be disrespectful (probably out of embarrassment and not wanting to give up the act in front of his friends). At one point I asked him if his parents were there. (I thought there was no way they could be with him acting the way he was.) However, when the word “BITCH” was blurted out after one particular girl was called up, I couldn’t believe it. It was apparent from “Joe’s” face that he forgot I was at his table. I gave him the look, and said, “Did you just say bitch?” (I was going for the shock factor since nothing else seemed to be working.) “I know I didn’t just hear you say that. I’m sitting right here.” Of course, he denied it, so I looked to the next kid and asked him if it was him. (Although I saw “Joe” mouth the words. I was hoping he would be honest and own up.) I just got up and moved my chair and sat by him. I asked him to point his parents out and the kids at his table said, “His dad’s the coach.” When he pointed to the table his parents were sitting at, it was the other table that all of the talking and joking was coming from.

After the event was over, I spoke to his dad. I started not to, but I told the young man I would, and I felt I needed to be consistent and follow through. If there is one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that there is nothing worse than giving a fourteen year old an empty threat. I let his dad know that “Joe” was disrespectful the entire first half of the event, and I had to go sit with him so his behavior would cease. I told him of the compliment “Joe” paid one girl in particular, and his dad seemed very shocked and disappointed. I explained to him that I wouldn’t have told him, but I felt he needed to know. It was what I would want someone to do if it were my child, and that I knew children acted differently out of their parents’ presence. He told me he would talk to his son.

As I was leaving, I overheard the mom question her son. He of course denied acting the way he did, and it appeared “Joe” referred his mom to his friend as a witness. The witness backed him up. It was apparent the boy was spinning a yarn, so as I walked by, I interjected and told her that I was the person who heard him. She began shaking her head and said she didn’t know. It didn’t sound like him. Was I sure? I made it clear to her that I was sitting directly across from him when he said it. That I saw him and heard him.

At the same time the other mother was questioning her son about the incident, and I clarified that her son was fine once I moved to their table. I let “Joe’s” mom know that his behavior stopped once I moved next to him. I told “Joe’s” mother that the disrespectful behavior was ongoing, so much so that it warranted me (an adult) to have to sit at the table so everyone sitting around them could hear. The mom continued to question me (in front of her son) and my testimony shaking her head in a somewhat disgusted disbelief at me, not her son. As I walked off, I saw both mothers with heads together talking about me. It was apparent neither of them believed me.

Here’s the thing. The “B” word didn’t bother me as much as “Joe” crossing his arms, rolling his eyes, and mumbling disrespects about me under his breath while I sat at his table. Even in front of his mom he was not polite to me. I have never in my life ever wanted to look at a parent and question their technique. Why would you discredit a well-meaning adult in front of your teenager? ALL children have moments. By having this reaction you are giving him a free ticket to behave this way all the time. In fact, the mother’s’ behavior made me question their sons’ characters. Before this incident, I was taking it for granted the boys were just in a “trying to be cool” moment. But after overhearing the mothers’ discussion, it was obvious there were going to be no consequences for their sons, in fact, their children were innocent, and I must have been delirious.

I know that as a parent we want the best for our children; we love them and do our best to raise them to the greatest of our ability. But they do mess up, and when they do, they need us to guide them and remind them of what’s right. I am certain that there have been times I found it hard to believe my children did wrong when it was brought to my attention, but I try my best to be open minded and realistic!

I guess tonight I was reminded of the phrase, “No wonder some children act the way they do.” I really hope that’s not the impression I leave with adults who encounter my children (unless of course, it’s good things they’re saying.)

Great photography website

A blogging friend of mine has just invested a lot of time and money into one of the best photography websites I’ve seen. Check his work out here.

And if you’re looking for a nice Christmas gift, the rustic barns and houses are nice:)

Best of luck, Mr. Z!!