Day 22

This Christmas countdown is exhausting. I think next year, I will keep it to a week. Anyway, yesterday we drove thru Glendale Christian Church's nativity scene. That really would have been enough, but I had purchased Home Alone earlier that day, so we went ahead and watched that as well. Liam was a little scared, but both boys seemed to like it.

23-Successful or no?

Today we decided cocoa and Christmas books by a cozy, crackling fire, with a nip of Eggnog for Liam would be perfect.
And the pictures are A-OK, right?

Read on.

Hi, I am Alec. I was actually sleeping during this time.  Yes, I am eating a cookie. Storebought baby food is for newbs. And Hey, it's Christmas. Sort of.

Gabe was delighted. Of course, prior to this, he was singing, "Have you seen the ghost of John," to antagonize Liam, who is frightened of the song.

This is Liam. He doesn't look happy, but he had fun once we got started. Getting started was another story. I am cranky and have been thinking about things that upset me all day. So I was practically growling. We spent at LEAST 30 minutes trying to start a fire, with no luck. The boys drank the cocoa before I could actually get any pictures. And I forgot the eggnog. 

But the books were fun and we have snapshots, which the kids will only remember as good times (probably!).

Christmas Countdown, 24!

Today we made everyone's favorite, the ubiquitous countdown chain. Gabe helped with about eight and then wandered away, but I forced Liam to finish his (but I did every other one).

25 days! Christmas is coming!

I had intended to blog each day, but yesterday I did a snapshot of our Christmas spirals, and today I posted a pic of us seeing the Bagwell Lights, and obviously, I there was no blog. I did write a sad, mopey blog about my existential work crises, but that isn't Christmasy.

When we were young we would drive by a house we called "Winter Wonderland" in Maryland Heights, St. Louis. The yard had numerous Christmasy decorations and ornaments. Of course it wasn't anything like the lights people have now, but the magic of driving by slowly, especially when their was snow (and of course, it was on the way to Granny's house), and just seeing the "magic" is a special memory.
After we moved to Springfield, sometimes we would still drive to Granny's for Christmas Day and that magical lawn still inspired us.

This was when magic was still possible and miracles weren't questioned. My brothers and I would gasp excitedly and call out the wonders we saw, and my parents played along driving slowly. I hope my children have such good memories.

Christmas is coming! 27 day countdown

Let's count down to awesomeness, shall we?

Why 27? Because this is when I thought of it. No, it isn't in reference to the 27-thing fling boogie.

Tonight the youngsters are snuggling in front of the TV, watching Rudolph.

Who doesn't have memories of cold winter nights, in front of a box TV, sniffling at the injustice Rudolph and the other misfits faced? Who rejoiced with Rudolph when his worth was finally realized and he shone (quite literally) that little light of his-and was all the more appreciated for it?

Maybe tomorrow, we should make it our goal to let our little light shine. Crazy, smart, flamboyant, kind, neat-freak, haphazard, crafty, funny--whatever your special gift is, let it shine.

The End of the School Year

Often we take the end of the calendar year to reflect on life and the changes which have occurred and the direction it is going. I think the end of the school year is a good time. Today my stomach has butterflies of nostalgia. It isn't that something is happening or going to happen.  It is that it has happened. It has come and it has gone and it will never be again.

It isn't regret exactly. Of course, there are things I coulda, shoulda, woulda. But thinking that way only leads to despair, and the air is warm, and the leaves are green, and my natural self tends towards sadness in this beautiful time, and I am fighting hard. I will not give into despair. My eyes are weary and my head is nodding with exhaustion at the fight (or maybe it the sugary carbs and caffeine), but I am persevering.

When I think of all the things that have come and gone I can't help but feel wise. And I think about all the sayings stating those who feel wise are actually ignorant, and I feel shame. Shame to think I am wise. Shame to share these thoughts. I feel the sadness in my gut, and my head says, steady now. This will pass. It all passes. Every single thing slips away. When I realized I had no children in daycare. Then elementary. Middle school. And now my, of my "older" kids, none left in high school. Glendale has fallen into our history, like Hickory Hills, Bingham, The Nurturing Center, Hawaii, Maryland. Gone. Just memories. Just thoughts that I might have done more.

And I fight because the opposite is unbearable. There are still all these mouths to feed and hearts to lift, and I fight, because the sun will shine and the warmth will fall onto my shoulders, and around the corner it will all be fine. Because it doesn't last. It just keeps slipping by.

And I sit and watch these kids in this class. They are just starting to awaken to the transitory nature.

And in 15 more minutes this block will be over. This moment carved in time, every other day for this past year, will slip away. Next year, a new teacher. Always new. Always changing. Always on the fringe. Shallow relationships forged because it keeps changing. Why bother building when the next year it will change?

And I feel it.

Summer, eternal in its beauty is upon us.

Parenting-What not to do

I feel as if I have failed as a parent today. First, Liam wrote a "book" at school, and what am I best at? Making promises and not following through. Not intentionally, I am just not really listening to the things I am agreeing to do or more usually, buy. That's like a bad parent, though.

Then I was looking online and noted that Taryn would have qualified for a presidential scholarship from Drury, where she wants to go. Now, I don't know if those are guaranteed, and we still would have to come up with about 8 or 9 k with loans and our own money after the scholarship and grants, but 30-35K isn't horrible. Especially since now she wants to transfer after two years and the scholarship money just isn't there for transfers. She didn't even get around to applying for MSU. She now wants to go to OTC and tranfer to Drury. How? I guess I have to step back and think if she really wants this, she will save the money. But how did we get to this point? I know she was being unreasonable about college. I know she procrastinated. But where does my fault like? I should have pushed her more. All those times she didn't do anything (try out for plays, go the extra mile), she always had an excuse (she was working), which seemed reasonable, but at what point should have I thought, Oh, she is scared and stepped in? I don't know. I feel like she is living my all over again.

I regret very much not taking the ACT again (I needed one more point for the bright flight). But I took it once, and I was too darned scared of doing worse to take it again. I didn't even know anything about scholarships, and didn't even apply for college or financial aid until after deadlines. I only applied to OTC. I was scared of a big college and  had no idea how it worked. Of course, neither did my parents.

Taryn said OTC is cheaper and MSU doesn't have what she wants. But she tears up everytime she talks about going to OTC. Is it because her boyfriend is going to OTC? There is nothing wrong with OTC, but if it makes her cry, then at least go to MSU. I get that Drury has the minor she wants, but she could take some classes there and get transfer credit. She could see if she could design her own study at MSU with the transfer credits. I don't know if that can be done. But...since she won't talk about it, I am going to look into it, and see what can be done. Maybe she is waiting for that. I don't know.

She should be happy and instead she is closing her own doors.

So, I guess my moral is...be more involved. Get your kids used to your being involved so it seems normal later. Taryn, even at age four, didn't want me watching her. Watching her dance, hearing her sing. Why not? I have done something wrong. But if I said she was great, she didn't believe me. If I didn't, she was crushed. I feel like I couldn't have won.

Yesterday I explained to a student that he wouldn't get something he wanted. He started to tear up. I was very sad, too. Another teacher rushed in to comfort him, and I thought, maybe it is me. Maybe I am too harsh. Maybe I need to work less on the directness and more on the sugarcoating. It would have never occurred to me that he might need to feel reassured and need to hear how happy we were to have him anyway. I just wanted to give him the facts and lay out a game plan. The sugarcoating doesn't come naturally to me.

Now. How do I learn to do that? I guess listen better to those who have that gift. Remember it is not being "fake," It's developing a new skills set for my toolbox.

I can do this, right?

Don't be like me.