One more week starting today.

I haven't been good about updating this blog. But in one week from today I will attend my last class for my master's program. Then I will carve out the time to write for leisure. I've missed you my friends. Soon . . . soon. First up, First Grade - Final Grade.

Proud as punch. Whatever that means.

Xyla's daycare classroom has taken up writing down little snippets of what happens with our children's day.  You get some information from the informal parent/teacher conference twice a year but it isn't enough to give you a clear picture about your child's behavior from day to day.  As a way to keep parents informed, the teachers in our classroom will write down something fun or awesome, sometimes mundane, sometimes if they had a really sucky day.  This is more than you would get from other day cares of the same size.  Generally there is so much going on that they can't tell you which kid is yours let alone what your kid did today.

And they point to the lesson plan or the meal plan but you know that what is written there usually never really happens.  You have no idea how much they have eaten because there are 11 other kids who will take any opportunity to wear their food for a laugh.  I know it has to be exhausting.  That's why I appreciate that they take the time to do it.  As often as you take the little card, they fill up another one.

Y'all.  I don't mean to brag but I have to tell you, as I have already told her, how proud I am of her.  Of course most days I get cards with mundane items like - Xyla played in the tar pit for half an hour.  She really liked it and said she liked putting the dinosaurs in the "tar". But then at least once a week I also see ones that say, "Xyla was a good friend today.  She saw one of her friends crying and gave them a hug and told them it was going to be ok."

The one I got today.  It damn near made me cry.  I am . . . I can't even tell you how proud.  Today her card read, "Xyla was a good friend today.  Her and her friend were practicing writing letters.  When her friend got frustrated, Xyla encouraged her friend to keep trying and complimented them on how well they were doing."

My kid is showing positive leadership skills.

Every day I go to bed wondering if I have been too hard on her for telling her to stop crying over the fact that her bubble gum didn't make the bubble she wanted it to.  That was yesterday.  The last few weeks she has become very emotional over every little thing that goes wrong.  And by wrong I don't mean on the scale of "I bit my toungue and it really, really hurts" but more like "my donut is facing the wrong direction and I am going to cry until it magically turns around" or "mommy, I can't whistle".

Of course we have all had those days.  Those days where with every little thing that goes wrong even something like getting your donut turned wrong just sends you over the tearful waterfall.  She has been having a lot of them lately.  I wonder if she has been feeling my stress over losing a good friend to retirement.  I wonder if she is just really missing her daddy, whom she loves very much.  I wonder what is going on in her mind.  And I do the best I can to help her see that no one blows bubbles right the first time.  No one, even mommy, is perfect at tying shoes.  But the only way we get good at anything is to keep trying until we get it right.

But what I know is that with a report like this from her school that I have been doing one thing right.  That is how to show compassion and care about others.  It is not an easy thing to do.  She knows that most of the kids in her class are now younger than her.  She knows that the only way they have to communicate is to cry, loudly until whatever is wrong is fixed.  She knows that I expect her to help herself.  I give her comfort, I help her focus on what is important, I help her see that crying doesn't make anything happen.  That just because a problem doesn't get solved the first time that you shouldn't give up.  That you can try different things to solve it, or you can try the same thing a little differently and get the result you were looking for.

I have a lot to learn from her.

A whole new year.

I haven't published in a while.  Life has kind of . . . overwhelmed me.  Part of the reason I haven't written much is because half of things I can't talk about.  By that I mean that anything I say regarding the topic of why we left Oklahoma and why that situation continues to be a struggle - are ongoing.  Nothing has been resolved and it leaves me with a sick feeling in my stomach not to be able to explain what is going on.  I feel like my story could help someone else.  Especially since I have researched it to death and have things to share.



Those who know me are laughing right now because . . . I LIKE to share.  I am afraid that if I divulge what is going on while I am in the midst of it, my emotions can be used against me and I have worked very hard to be objective in the matter.  Fear not, though because I have been writing things down in my notebook and I will start going over them retroactively as soon as what has been the major source of my anxiety for the last 5 years passes.



That said, I want to apologize to those of you who feel left in the dark in the meantime.



A tiny nugget for thought.  I have been accepted to and will start class on Jan 9 in a Native American Studies program at Montana State University.  I panicked some of my friend when I announced this a few weeks ago.  I want everyone to know that I am not moving to Montana.  I am taking the course online.  A person from Utah taking a proprietary course from a Montana University - I am sure they will be bragging about it at some point.  I don't mind.

The one in which I teach her about temptation.

I like to indulge this little girl every so often.  The occasion of her birthday brings all manner of candy from people who don't realize that we try really hard to keep candy out of the conversation.  Because it is her birthday candy I have to let her eat some.

Last night, I am cooking dinner.  She says she wants a piece of her candy.  I tell her that she can only eat it after she has some dinner.  She says she wants to take a particular piece of candy out to the living room and put it on the table and she promises she won't eat it until after dinner.

I drop down on my knees.  I tell her what she is talking about doing is called temptation.  I tell her that she is talking about tempting herself to disobey what I told her.  I tell her that she can take it to the living room and place it on the table but that she is not to open or eat it until after dinner.  I had been promising her a fruit popsicle all day (for after dinner).  I tell her, "if you leave it on the table until after dinner you may have the piece of candy and the popsicle."  Her eyes light up.  I tell her that if I come into the living room and she has opened or is eating the candy that I will take the candy away and she will also have to give up the popsicle and still have to eat dinner.  I ask her if she understands.  She says yes.

I tell her, you may take the candy to the living room now.  She holds the candy in her hand and peels out around the corner to the living room.  With small children I knew this could go either way.  I was going to wait two minutes then come out to the living room to see how she had fared.  I was really hoping that she would put it on the table and leave it.  It surprised me when mere seconds later she comes back around the corner and hands me the piece of candy and says she wants to put it away for now but would like to eat it after dinner.

I am so proud of this girl.  Best Mother's Day gift ever.

So I really didn't intend to make this comparison again you know since the last time in July 2009 but it bears repeating. Y'all could have been separated at birth, and if I didn't know you both better I'd swear to it.

She truly broke my heart today.

Even on the days when she is hollering at me for no explicable reason. When she fights me in the morning as I am putting on her clothes. When I make her go to daycare, when she doesn't want to. I love this little girl. I learned the other day that there is a phrase I say when I drive that I need to watch myself on. I hear her tell me nearly every day that she likes my hair, that she thinks it is very pretty. To which I am always sure to remind her that I admire her hair as much as she does mine. (If she reads this later in life - I want her to know that is not an exaggeration. I nearly fried my hair off with perms trying to make it be as curly as hers is every day. She can confirm with Ninny.) I love this little girl more than words can say.

We go to Smith's grocery store for three reasons. There is not a crazy - holidazed - walmart attached to it, they have decent prices, and they have these awesome little carts. Of course I was dancing to the 80's music they were playing over the PA (another thing I consider a perk) so naturally - she did the same.

Then when we got home, she kept on dancing - even when there was no music.

She is silly and I love her imagination.

For instance, this is the scene where the mermaid barbie and baby duckie meet for the first time and duckie admires barbie's hair.

These nifty implements were among the plas-tastic stocking stuffery toys you can pick up for $1 or under. She got a package of rings, bracelets, and the tiara that came with matching earings. But this little trio cost me more than the $3 pricetag. I have known for a while that she admires Dora's hair. And that she admires one of her friends at school for her hair (which is cut and combed just like Dora's) and that she has been admiring my hair. When we put these things on her she decided she needed her dress. So we put that on her.

She went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She stared at herself for some time. When I went in to the bathroom she turned around and looked at me with a look in her eye that I had never seen before. She looked at me and said, "now I am a real princess."

I have been avoiding everything Disney princess for exactly this reason. You can't tell your family that. Or, rather, you can tell your family but they send you something with princesses on it anyway. I spend a lot of time telling her she is beautiful. I spend a lot of time making sure she gets to wear the dresses (that I never had an interest in when I was little) and spend the time having tea and playing with her with her toys.

It broke my heart that it took these small shiny pink plastic bobbles to make her feel important, to make her feel pretty, to make her feel loved. So I told her, "this is probably the most important thing I will ever tell you, and I want you to remember it for a very long time. These things do not make you pretty, you make them pretty and you have always been a real princess."

She stroked my cheek. And she just looked at me. I kissed her cheek. She said, "I love you, Queen." I told her, "I love you, Princess."

How do I fight against all things commercial. How do I give my daughter the confidence to know that even with boogers coming out of her nose and dirt from head to toe that she is every bit as beautiful as the little girl she saw in the mirror tonight. That real beauty comes from inside. Just like dancing in the store - she's going to do what I do. So now I am going to do better about showing my inner beauty all the time.

Found Objects

"I am going to need this for my playdough."

It isn't the first time a heart has been carelessly thrown in the gutter. It won't be the last. But we rescued it and Xyla plans to make good use of it.

I don't know quite how to describe today. It was a bit of chaos. Slimming down some stock footage. Duplicating, searching video. Preparing for the big move. (Not me, in case you wondered. I signed the longest lease I have ever heard of.) I impressed two people with my ability to hoist a large box of beta tapes onto my shoulder, haul them to the dumpster, open the dumpster and drop in the tapes without losing the box. Of course if they'd been opening doors and the dumpster . . .

I had to wade through the thick river of emotional footage of people's homecoming surprises and pick out shots that match a specific script. That is the hardest thing for me to do. It exhausts me when other people are terribly emotional. I know how horrible that sounds but when you train yourself to wait for the tear . . . and pack up the gear and head back to air it at 5, 6, 10 and 11. You have to be able to shut it all off. You have to know what makes other people feel those feelings, without feeling them yourself.

There are thousands of stories like that one and if you take the time to get all emotional about it yourself, well, you are going to miss your deadlines and then you won't have a job. I guess that was what made me good at the job - not being emotional enough but knowing what makes others emotional. I say exhausting because it's not like you can get the beginning of the hug and cut then run. You have to stay for the whole hug . . . or kiss. . . or exaggerated for the camera awe-strike. Some people never want to let go. But you have to stay for the follow through. If your anchors don't get choked up a little - you didn't get it all. Enough about that.

Why am I telling you this?

Recently I was awarded an "employee of the month" type award. I really appreciated it. It's a bit of a popularity contest only quality of your work oriented. It comes with a parking spot right next to the door. It is really nice to get to park in the reserved spot because it means that when you come back from lunch - no one has snaked your space. (The people who work across the street are horrible about doing this.) I park in backwards because you can't see around the evening traffic to get out the way I get out unless you are parked backwards. I got in, and pulled forward just a little to indicate to still-standing cross traffic that I would like to cross the line and go the other way. The woman immediately noticed me and made a space in the lane for me to cross. This is two way traffic. I looked right, I looked left, I looked right again and started to cross the lane and got 3/4 of the way into the lane I was going to travel in and someone in a white Toyota was driving the wrong way in the lane. It happens sometimes when people decided that since they aren't exiting the gate that they don't have to wait in line to make the left turn just before the intersection.

Roads wet and black ice in places it is amazing that the person was able to stop just before they hit me, t-bone . . . driver's side. They turned their wheel right (keeping in mind that there is a long line of cars on that side) and narrowly missed three cars on that side by "correcting". I pushed the gas pedal and got the back end of my car out of the way in time for them to slide by the rear of my vehicle.

Then whoever it was kept driving in the wrong lane.

All I kept thinking was, "I have a three-year-old waiting for me. What would her life be like if she never saw me again because this guy had to save five minutes in line. Would he think it was worth the risk then?"

I so desperately wanted to go around the corner and track him down (there are only two places he can go) and ask him that. But remembering the guy who wanted me to get out of my car and fight him because I waved him around me in the drive through lane while I took a few seconds to situate my kids cup in her cup holder before we drove away from the store, I decided there was potential that not seeing my kid again is totally still a possibility at that point, if I make a poor decision. So I drove on to pick up my daughter as always. No way I was going to miss that today. Not when the choice is mine.

As I put Xyla in the car she looked at me and said, "are you happy mommy?" I said, "Yes, Xyla - I am very happy." We got in the car and headed home. She rescues the heart from the gutter. As we are walking inside she says she wants some hot chocolate - with three (holding up four fingers) marshmallows.