The first days of school are always an adventure, especially in the kindergarten room. This year nothing too crazy has happened yet, but I'm sure it will soon.
I forget how little they are when they get to kindergarten and the wide range of abilities and knowledge they have. Some come knowing all their letters and sounds and reading. Others come without ever picking up a pencil and quite possibly having never seen a book either. They all join together ages 5 & 6 bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
The poor things are absolutely exhausted by 10AM and are STARVING. Not hungry, the I haven't eaten in a million years starving. And I'm starving too because we are all used to grazing our way through the summer. Suddenly we have to eat on a schedule again. After lunch they are wondering when they get to go home. Some are rubbing eyes and yawning while others are bouncing off the walls to stay awake.
Rest time rolls around and you'd swear they should all just go to sleep the second their head hits the mat. But no, they are WIDE awake now because of the "I might miss something if I shut my eyes" syndrome we all have when we're little (well and some of us when we're big too!).
Attention span is that of a nanosecond, so moving around, singing crazy camp songs, and shaking the ants out of our pants become common place.
Books are wonderful but questions are answered entirely off topic because of the nanosecond.
Imaginations run wild and we all have pet elephants named Edgar by the end of the day.
I'm positive that parents and grandparents think I have completely lost my mind when their child comes home with stories.
The year will progress quickly. Soon the kids who have never been in school mix in with those spending another year with Mrs. J. They will learn things lightening fast, and by the end they will be all grown up ready for 1st grade. It never will cease to amaze me the million miles kindergarteners come in a year. I am throughly convinced I can never become bored there, and that they are some of the best times ever.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Light Bulbs, yes Light Bulbs
There must be 8 million types of light bulbs in this world, and our house contains every single kind.
The problem began when we chose lighting for our house. It was one of the last cosmetic decisions Troy and I had to make about the house, and we were downright sick and tired of making choices. It was so hard at that point. And who knew we needed to know so much information when we went shopping? Number of can lights, length of bathroom vanities, yada yada yada…
Time out: Here’s where I remind readers of my sarcasticness. My hubby was prepared with all the numbers. I was just there to look cute. Oh and pick out cute lights.
When we got to Menards it took us so long to decide what to pick that people actually thought we were there to inspect the ceiling! With stiff necks and tired heads we chose lights, of course not thinking about what light bulbs were necessary. Who would think about that? Really hook them up, flip a switch, ta da!
It wasn’t until light bulbs started burning out that we realized the trouble we had gotten ourselves into. First ones were can lights. Those are all the same and we must have thousands in the house. No big deal right? Wrong, those come in flood or spot, efficient and I suppose not efficient, this wattage, that wattage, these volts, those volts. Luckily they come in a really big box and Troy bought them. Problem solved.
Next went out a light in our bedroom. After wrestling with the shade on the fan, etc. come to find out it takes one of those fancy flame looking lights. Who cares? If you’re not seeing them why not make them your standard filament or compact florescent? Really?
But the crem de la crem is the lights in the kids’ rooms. Mazee’s had a light out for 4 months now and Deegan for who knows how long. These lights do not contain your regular light bulb with all is normalness. Instead of the normal sized screwy in part, they require the small screwy in part, the bulbs are round, and they are a 40 watt bulb. Do you know where you can find such special bulbs? Not just anywhere my friends. Wal-mart carries them, but the closest Wal-mart is an hour and a half away! Seriously! (well they maybe carry them other places. It’s not like I spend all my free time checking out locations of my “favorite” light bulbs!)
Changing all these lovely light bulbs is material for another blog at a later date. So boys and girls, when your kindergarten teacher starts talking about how to build a house be sure to pay attention to the choosing lighting section. Apparently I missed that day of kindergarten!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The shoe is on the other foot
For five years now I have been greeting parents at my kindergarten door and assuring them their kids are going to have a great year in kindergarten. I tell them about what we are going to do and that school is a wonderful thing. Parents leave slowly, some a little teary eyed. And I think to myself, "I'm glad they love their children, but this is school. It's part of growing up. Their kids are going to do well."
Monday night I tuck Deegan into bed at 8:30, a full hour and a half earlier than his summer routine (luckly we have been practicing for a few weeks now). He says, "Mommy my heart hurts." "Why's that?" I ask. He says, "Because I'm going to miss you and Daddy tomorrow." My heart melts at that point. "Deegan, you're going to get playing with your friends and you're not even going to miss us." Deegen smiles and snuggles down to sleep.
Tuesday morning we're up at the crack of dawn. Deegan's always been an early riser, but 6:30 is pushing it to be awake and moving! He's dressed, eats breakfast and we head down the lane. You can tell this is exciting for the whole family because Mazee's up and dressed so she can walk down with us.
We're walking sluggishly down the lane. While we're waiting Deegan says to me again, "Mommy I'm ready to go, but my heart still hurts a little." "Mine does too Deegan, but it's good to miss people. It means you love them." I said.
The bus pulls up, Deegan jumps on and waves like crazy through the window. He's fine. He's excited. I knew he'd be. Me, I'm not a blubbery mess or anything, but my heart hurts. How did my little guy get to be so big?? I'm excited for him too. I'm also excited that I'm not his teacher. I think he'll be great for his teacher, but I don't think his mom as his teacher would be a good thing.
It's a new feeling. One, now that my child is big enough to start school and here starts the super busy part of my life. Two, now I have to completely trust others to watch and guide my child. I take comfort in knowing that teachers are good people and that I have heard many good things about the teachers at his school.
I guess nothing can prepare you for letting your first born go to kindergarten, even if you've been to kindergarten yourself and teach kindergarten.
Monday night I tuck Deegan into bed at 8:30, a full hour and a half earlier than his summer routine (luckly we have been practicing for a few weeks now). He says, "Mommy my heart hurts." "Why's that?" I ask. He says, "Because I'm going to miss you and Daddy tomorrow." My heart melts at that point. "Deegan, you're going to get playing with your friends and you're not even going to miss us." Deegen smiles and snuggles down to sleep.
Tuesday morning we're up at the crack of dawn. Deegan's always been an early riser, but 6:30 is pushing it to be awake and moving! He's dressed, eats breakfast and we head down the lane. You can tell this is exciting for the whole family because Mazee's up and dressed so she can walk down with us.
We're walking sluggishly down the lane. While we're waiting Deegan says to me again, "Mommy I'm ready to go, but my heart still hurts a little." "Mine does too Deegan, but it's good to miss people. It means you love them." I said.
The bus pulls up, Deegan jumps on and waves like crazy through the window. He's fine. He's excited. I knew he'd be. Me, I'm not a blubbery mess or anything, but my heart hurts. How did my little guy get to be so big?? I'm excited for him too. I'm also excited that I'm not his teacher. I think he'll be great for his teacher, but I don't think his mom as his teacher would be a good thing.
It's a new feeling. One, now that my child is big enough to start school and here starts the super busy part of my life. Two, now I have to completely trust others to watch and guide my child. I take comfort in knowing that teachers are good people and that I have heard many good things about the teachers at his school.
I guess nothing can prepare you for letting your first born go to kindergarten, even if you've been to kindergarten yourself and teach kindergarten.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
If you want to make God laugh...
My Godmother and a song have a line that says, “If you want to hear God laugh tell Him your plans.” God has laughed at me a lot through the years.
Following God’s will means leaving the big decisions of life up to Him. It means rolling with the punches, listening to your gut, being surprised. Many times it means accepting the unexpected. What I do know about God’s little surprises is that as long as you have let God be in control, things will work out they way they are supposed to.
In college I started out as an art major. I wanted to go into graphic design. I didn’t know it was an art major. (Truthfully I had no idea what major it should be, but why would one need to know how to draw if they were going to be working at a computer all day?) After attending my first design and drawing classes I thought I would die (and have no time to play). Through a couple of stressed out weeks, countless calls to my mommy, and trips to my poor, overly patient advisors office I decided to stick with an art minor. It was a great decision. My life has been enhanced because of it, and this year I will become a part time high school art teacher. The whole crazy art lady thing is some what scary, not going to lie. But I can see God's hand in this madness and therefore I know it is for good reasons.
If it weren’t for God’s sense of humor I wouldn’t have my daughter Mazee. Well I might have had her but not 19 months after her brother. Without giving you all the biological details, I can tell you without a doubt we were completely surprised when we found out we were pregnant with Mazee. Deegan just turned one. I was planning on moving from 5th grade to kindergarten (which scared the bajeebuz out of me). And I was still trying to cope with being sleep deprived from a one year old who still wouldn’t sleep through the night. How the heck would I handle two kids? Oh and the house we lived in was a teeny, tiny little crappy cracker box. Deegan slept in the once upon a time dining room. I cried. There was no room for another kid. I thought maybe this was a nightmare. But I realized there was a reason why God gave us Mazee when He did. I don’t understand those reasons exactly, for I am only human, but I know my life is more amazing and wonderful for having her. (Yes, now that she’s three there are days I’d trade her in J )
God has had his hand in all the good decisions I have made. I have found that those decisions I have made without consulting or trusting Him have resulted in disaster and unhappiness. Even when the initial decision or discovery is scary and crazy, if it is for Him then all will be okay. God’s lessons to us are to remind us of who is in charge.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Old Stuff, New Stuff & Prayer
I am fortunate to live in a beautiful part of the world, by a great little town, in an amazing house built by my hubby, filled with memories and enough junk to make 100 of me content. My life is truly a blessing that I cannot take full credit for.
Part of me feels like I'm not the most prayerful person. I don't regularly say my bedtime prayers, I miss Mass for no good reason on occassion, and my prayer book, Bible and rosary sit ideally wondering why it is they came to live at my house. I keep promising them I will put the to good use one day. My grandma assures me I will. On my last visit to her house she made me realize how it's not always possible for a busy mom to get in memorized prayers or read the Bible. But when I'm old like her (her words not mine) and don't have to chase after screaming kids, I can concentrate more on formal prayers.
That's all great for the future, but prayer is important now too, so how do I get it in? My dad talks about how he thinks his mother was always praying. Even though I didn't get to have any in-depth conversations with my grandma about prayer, I would have to agree with Dad. She was a quiet woman who offered all she had to others.
My house is filled with family treasures, gifts from friends, and the love our family shares. I have endless chores to accomplish and kids to keep track of. This is when I pray. I pray when I use my pots and pans, because my grandparents gave them to us when we got married. I pray for family friends when I see the tea pot sitting on the top of the cabinet and the old hutch sitting in the dining room. I pray for the people who have graciously given my children cute outfits and those darn toys I trip over. I pray for the really hard stuff and offer it up when I have to do things like scrub the floors on my hands and knees or clean the bathrooms. I pray when I load the dishwasher for those who have to live without food. I pray for my kids when I am frustrated with them. These aren't long prayers, just quick little snipets. It's not perfect, but it's working for me.
See I have realized that all good things in my life have happened because I have let go and let God. The blessings that have some my way are because I decided to listen to Him and let Him take control. I am human. I cannot make this happen for myself and truly be happy.
Part of me feels like I'm not the most prayerful person. I don't regularly say my bedtime prayers, I miss Mass for no good reason on occassion, and my prayer book, Bible and rosary sit ideally wondering why it is they came to live at my house. I keep promising them I will put the to good use one day. My grandma assures me I will. On my last visit to her house she made me realize how it's not always possible for a busy mom to get in memorized prayers or read the Bible. But when I'm old like her (her words not mine) and don't have to chase after screaming kids, I can concentrate more on formal prayers.
That's all great for the future, but prayer is important now too, so how do I get it in? My dad talks about how he thinks his mother was always praying. Even though I didn't get to have any in-depth conversations with my grandma about prayer, I would have to agree with Dad. She was a quiet woman who offered all she had to others.
My house is filled with family treasures, gifts from friends, and the love our family shares. I have endless chores to accomplish and kids to keep track of. This is when I pray. I pray when I use my pots and pans, because my grandparents gave them to us when we got married. I pray for family friends when I see the tea pot sitting on the top of the cabinet and the old hutch sitting in the dining room. I pray for the people who have graciously given my children cute outfits and those darn toys I trip over. I pray for the really hard stuff and offer it up when I have to do things like scrub the floors on my hands and knees or clean the bathrooms. I pray when I load the dishwasher for those who have to live without food. I pray for my kids when I am frustrated with them. These aren't long prayers, just quick little snipets. It's not perfect, but it's working for me.
See I have realized that all good things in my life have happened because I have let go and let God. The blessings that have some my way are because I decided to listen to Him and let Him take control. I am human. I cannot make this happen for myself and truly be happy.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
What Not to Wear
TLC has a show called "What Not to Wear". I have watched it a few times and was amused by the people they find to ambush into a "make-over". What I have discovered after viewing a few recent pictures of myself, is that I am a perfect candidate for one such ambush.
My problem with clothes lies in not wanting to look good or lack of self confidence that I am worthy of nice clothing, my problem or problems are that I am cheap, the mother of three young kids, and I teach kindergarten and art. On top of these issues I must add "I had a baby 4 months ago, I have no time to work out, and I need to be able to nurse discretely" to my list of 'excuses'.
Being cheap means finding things on clearance, sale, or at a second hand store. This theory works very well for finding cute kid clothes, not so much with finding the mommy clothes.
I have three young kids at home and teach kindergarten. My clothing is subject to spit-upy shoulders, boogers, paint, sticky hands wiped thigh high, dirty knees, sneezes, etc. There's no point in investing in good clothes just to have them smeared with boogers by 9AM.
I did leave out teaching art in the above paragraph intentionally because I'm hoping to only have to worry about plaster and paint, not boogers and spit-up! But all the same I am not the neatest artist in the world. Mess=creativity
Besides having to think about "school" clothes I don't think my hippy ways are appropriate for my brother's up coming wedding. The challenge is to find something appropriate for which I can not only look spiffy, but nurse my little bambino as well. They do make nursing shirts and nursing dresses, but my problem is they all make me look like a beached whale. I'm sorry, but I did the beached whale look for 9 months. It's called being pregnant. But the good thing about my lack of being able to dress spiffy is I will not out shine the bride (she is a wonderful bride) come middle of September.
Accessories and shoes, I suppose make up too, round out a well planned outfit. Accessories=toys for tots and if I wanted a broken neck I would've worn heals a long time ago, Plus dress shoes can = uncomfy. I'm not a fan of uncomfy! Makeup, well I'm proud to say I've got great skin and don't plan on covering it up until I start being mistaken for wearing my Halloween mask year round.
I'm not sure anyone else appreciates my ponytail, tennis shoes, worn out look, but it sure is working for me. I guess I must have missed the, "You're an adult with a professional job" day of kindergarten.
My problem with clothes lies in not wanting to look good or lack of self confidence that I am worthy of nice clothing, my problem or problems are that I am cheap, the mother of three young kids, and I teach kindergarten and art. On top of these issues I must add "I had a baby 4 months ago, I have no time to work out, and I need to be able to nurse discretely" to my list of 'excuses'.
Being cheap means finding things on clearance, sale, or at a second hand store. This theory works very well for finding cute kid clothes, not so much with finding the mommy clothes.
I have three young kids at home and teach kindergarten. My clothing is subject to spit-upy shoulders, boogers, paint, sticky hands wiped thigh high, dirty knees, sneezes, etc. There's no point in investing in good clothes just to have them smeared with boogers by 9AM.
I did leave out teaching art in the above paragraph intentionally because I'm hoping to only have to worry about plaster and paint, not boogers and spit-up! But all the same I am not the neatest artist in the world. Mess=creativity
Besides having to think about "school" clothes I don't think my hippy ways are appropriate for my brother's up coming wedding. The challenge is to find something appropriate for which I can not only look spiffy, but nurse my little bambino as well. They do make nursing shirts and nursing dresses, but my problem is they all make me look like a beached whale. I'm sorry, but I did the beached whale look for 9 months. It's called being pregnant. But the good thing about my lack of being able to dress spiffy is I will not out shine the bride (she is a wonderful bride) come middle of September.
Accessories and shoes, I suppose make up too, round out a well planned outfit. Accessories=toys for tots and if I wanted a broken neck I would've worn heals a long time ago, Plus dress shoes can = uncomfy. I'm not a fan of uncomfy! Makeup, well I'm proud to say I've got great skin and don't plan on covering it up until I start being mistaken for wearing my Halloween mask year round.
I'm not sure anyone else appreciates my ponytail, tennis shoes, worn out look, but it sure is working for me. I guess I must have missed the, "You're an adult with a professional job" day of kindergarten.
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