What Have I Done?!

This morning, the kids and I took advantage of the beautiful day and took a bike ride into neighboring subdivisions.  I knew it was time to come back when Abby had polished off the last of my water and her face was bright red.  As we victoriously conquered the last uphill stretch near our house, I noticed a man putting his "trash" at the road.
This "trash" was a large fish tank.  I would guess it is about a 50 gallon tank with a convex front.  Next to it, was 2 boxes full of everyting a fish lover would need.  Here is the conflict that wives go through in moments such as these.  Do I tell my fish-tank-loving husband about said treasure sitting for free 2 doors down?  This means that all existing honey-dos on the list will be scratched off and replaced with "GET FISH TANK SET UP".  A fish tank that did not exist before this moment.  A fish tank that does not have to exist at all.
I did the right thing...I told him.  I think I saw smoke behind him as he raced out the door to pound on the neighbor's door, but I told him.  He may not get that garage cleaned today, but I told him.  I may not get that last set of blinds hung, but I told him.  Our belongings may be in storage forever, but I told him.  I'm a good wife, so I told him.
(((sigh))) Now, in our garage, we have this large tank, a smaller 20 gallon tank, a smaller 10 gallon tank, and all of the necessary parts and pieces for them to work.  This neighbor apparently had plenty he was ready to ditch.
We got rid of a very large tank before our move.  I was so happy to be done with it, I had a small party in my head.  Now, as I inherit this family's past hobby, I can only imagine HIS wife doing a small happy dance in her kitchen as I prepare to take on this renewed hobby.
I guess this means I may never get that mantle we need either. [[[stomping foot]]]

~ACZ

Slowing Down

May 18, 2012 is the day I became a better Mom.  This did not happen because of me or anything I did that day.  It happened because God needed me to pay attention to the blessings in my life. 

It was a Friday, nearing the end of baseball season.  All three of my kids decided to play baseball this season.  This means that each kid has 2 games per week, and maybe one practice between the bunch.  Catie also takes dancing on Wednesday nights, and, of course, there’s  after school tutoring that I do, homework, and studying.  Needless to say, our lives, since March, have not stopped. 

It all began in the school day when Abby’s homeroom teacher pulled me aside and whispered to me that Abby had been nominated by her classmates to receive the David Award.  This is an award given in each homeroom at their school.  It is considered the highest honor a student can receive.  It has nothing to do with how smart you are or how fast you are or how popular you are.  It is based on your kindness to others.  It is awarded to the student who exemplifies a true Christian.  The fact that it is chosen by classmates makes it even more special.  When her teacher told me, I had to leave the room to hide my tears.  I could not be prouder of my middle child who, at times, does not realize the person she can be in life.

After school, I rounded everyone up, beaming with my new secret, and we headed home.  It was dance rehearsal night!  For a 4-yr-old who attends dance from August until May, THIS is the moment she’s been waiting for all year long.  The day she can put on the pretty make up and the sparkly tutu!  While we got ready for the big show, my son dressed for his baseball game and he and my husband headed to the ballpark.  I would have to miss this game, which I never like to do. 

On the way to the dance rehearsal, we were all so excited.  I was so proud, again, that my youngest child was finally reaching her long awaited goal.  I was also anxious to see how much she’d learned all this time!  On the way there, I received a text from my husband. “Zac is PITCHING”. ….Another dream come true.  Zac had been asking me for weeks, daily, if I thought coach would ever put him pitching. I kept telling him to ask the coach, but he never would, since he gets his shyness from me.  I was missing it, but still so happy to be with Catie for her big day.

Catie performed so well, I was so proud.  I was now beaming with THREE major accomplishments:  The David Award, the dancer dancing, and my pitcher pitching. I realized, in that moment, driving to the baseball field after dancing, that I had lost focus.  Our busy lives were taking away from our family.  Since that day, I am more patient, I am more understanding, I am a better mom.  These are my blessings.  This is my one shot.  I get it, God.

Oh, and to add to my pride even more, Zac pitched a good game.  When I asked him why coach finally put him in, he said, “I asked.”

Abby with her St. David medal

My pitcher pitching

My dancer after her recital

A Day With My SLPs

Top Ten Things to NOT do if you suddenly decide to invite yourself to friends' houses the day after a holiday when they have a house full of kids on Easter break amped up on sugar and feel like a train just came through their house in the form of a family celebration:

This day we chose to visit my SLPs, which means some of my friends from St. Landry Parish where I worked before moving.

10.  BRING THE DOG.

This may result in the dog deciding to immediately poop in dear friend's yard directly under tree house where your child is playing.  Your child will quickly step in poop with brand new Easter shoe causing you and your dear friend to worry about cleaning poop for about 20 minutes.

9.  BRING THE DOG.
He may chase dear friend's neighbor, neighbor's dog, and SLEMCO man.

8.  BRING THE DOG.
He may run into your friend's house over and over again because he thinks he belongs in everyone's house.

7.  BRING THE DOG.
He may lurk around the table where children are eating lunch causing the entire group to eventually relocate for fear of losing pizza and breadsticks.

6.  BRING THE DOG.
He may scare the dickens out of other dear friend's FOUR children, causing them to run and hide indoors, keeping you and your sweet children outside of the house while screaming in unison, "Why are you here??  What do you want?!?"

5.  BRING THE DOG.
He may sit outside of the door in the backyard you've just placed him in, barking non-stop, even jumping on the door at certain points.

4.  BRING THE CHILDREN.
They may accuse your dear friends' children of not playing fair, keeping gumballs from them, make a mess, and fake injuries for affect.  They may also fight with each other to the point of utter embarrassment.  In this case, firmly clench teeth and give long "mom stare" promising to deal with this when you return home.  This strategy may or may not work for you, but it is all I could come up with.

3.  BRING THE FAMILY DRAMA QUEEN.
Your sweet four-year-old will prove to all the drama queen that she really is under this type of pressure.  She will fight with everyone involved and cry to get her way no matter what goods and riches you promise her.  She will disrupt many conversations with these complaints, return to the kid area, start another argument, and immediately return to you.  This cycle is never ending.  For dealing with this type of behavior, see #4.



2.  BRING THE DOG.
Your dear friend's sweet, curly haired two-year-old may or may not find the dog's leash and chew on it endlessly.  Hide all evidence of this ever happening.

1.  BRING THE DOG.
He may chase your dear friend's cat, causing the feline to run straight up the screened porch to a height no one thought possible.  Feline will eventually come down only to run straight back up each and every time your dog enters through the doggy door placed in both front doors.

Lesson:  Leave Pepper at home when making surprise visits to long lost friends.

~ACZ

I Swear We're Nice People

Last night we were invited by some new friends to a much needed crawfish boil at their home.  Finally!  Moving to a new town and making new friends is not as easy at it may seem.  I mean, we'd look a little weird knocking on someone's door and asking them to come out and play, right?   At times,the shy kid comes out in me and I don't quite know how to just say, "Hey, maybe we could all have dinner one night?"  Well, honestly, that's not the only hurdle.  We all have 1,648 kids and have to find sitters, arrange our schedules around baseball games, dancing, birthday parties, sick kids, etc, etc, etc.  There is also my profession.  My son is in my class, so these are the parents a normal mom would meet and spend time with, BUT...I teach their kid.  How weird is it to have your teacher's kid ask you to hang out.  haha!  That just made me laugh thinking of it! .....(still laughing)..........................ehem!

Anyway, we were invited to the home of a couple whom Todd and I both adore.  They have small children and I knew Catie would love it.  After our 5:30 T-ball scrimmage where Catie's team won with an imaginary, made up score of 8-2, we headed over.  The crawfish was incredible.  Kudos to our hosts.  But then, it happened.  As the adults enjoyed each others company in a much needed huddle on the back patio, the kids' Friday Fatigue (as I call it) started becoming apparent.  It started when their sweet 5-year-old son came screaming from the darkness because he was hit in the face with something never really identified, I guess.  My son and the other 10-yr-old there come behind him saying that HE was throwing stuff FIRST!  Really??  You chose THIS NIGHT to defend yourself against a 5-year-old?  That was it, the start of a series of several events that made Zac seem like he and Charles Manson were in cahoots.  Catie was her usual high spirited self and spent her time being social with the little kids, only embarrassing me the one time she came out with some contraption which she put on her chest and called "boobies".  Nice. 

As a mom of three and a teacher of 76, there are times we can't explain why a normally sweet kid suddenly goes postal for an evening.  The night was fun, which is good, since it was probably our last.  I swear we're nice people with nice kids.  Really!  I mean it!

These are my kids 2 hours before the evening crawfish boil.  We dragged them out for more fun with full knowledge of their Friday Fatigue.  What were we thinking?



Lesson:  Simple.  Live and learn.


~ACZ

Embarrasing Mom/Teacher Moment #3452

This morming we arrived at school earlier than ever.  Ever so proud of ourselves, we leapt out of the Expedition cheery-eyed and bushy-tailed.  As we all gathered our 872 things needed for our school day, I realized Abby's booksack was missing!  I looked at Abby and asked, "Abby, where is your booksack?"  "I put it behind the truck this morning," she replied.........................................................................................
(Mental Note: Text Todd to retrieve book sack from driveway before the rain.)

Upon arriving into my classroom, I get a call....................from Todd...............Apparently the neighbor found Abby's book sack in the middle of the road and rang the doorbell.  "Not to worry," Todd said,  "they have a kid in Abby's class and will bring it with them to give to Abby."

Enter mortifying eMbArRaSsMeNt!!!!  Yes, that's right, this morning I backed up feeling like I'd conquered the world since we were so early, not realizing that I was dragging my poor 8-year-old's sweet flowery blue monogrammed book sack SEVEN feet into the middle of the street.  Lurching forward, oblivious to the scene I was leaving for the new neighbors to ogle over.  To top it off, to my rescue comes a neighbor whom I've NEVER MET, WHOSE SON I WILL TEACH NEXT YEAR!

Unbelievable.  If you need me, I'll be hiding under my desk.

**Update:  Just met the Mom in the school cafeteria while she had lunch with her son.  She introduced herself as the one who brought Abby's book sack to school and said it was so nice to meet me. 

Shoot me.

Enter Stress

Seriously?  I have not posted a thing since December??  It's not that I've alienated you.  It's just that...{{well}}...sometimes the stress of being a working mom becomes unfunny for a little while.  Oh, I'm sure we've had our moments where we've visited a Wal Mart or arrived at school late that would have been "Class A" opportunity for a funny blog post.  But, when you are living it...not so funny.

Anyhow, so today would have qualified for one of those days.....(I think I just felt my neck tighten just thinking about it.).....................................

3 words...Academy and baseball season.  I know.  Enough said.

It all starts with the general feeling of the day.  Abby was a fighter all weekend.  She was crabby and moody and grumpy.  When asked to do anything, she did nothing.  Well, she needed new cleats for softball.  If she did not absolutely need them to be able to play, she would not have earned them this weekend for sure.  As we were getting ready to leave, I lost my keys.  Sure I lose my keys now and then, but I REALLY could not find them ANYWHERE.  After about 30 minutes of searching, I found them under something on the kitchen counter...duh.  During this 30 minute game of hide-and-seek, it allowed me, the Mom, to look in each room of my house.  (For those that are not Moms, when we do this, we don't see rooms, we see each individual mess in each and every room that was just cleaned YESTERDAY!)...........................anyway.....So, Abby, her friend, and I finally pile in the car and head over.  I was so hoping to be able to dart in and out since I only had 2 kids with me.  Then we could make that stop at Target and Sam's that I really needed to make.

We arrive and go straight to the baseball cleats.  It becomes apparent that everyone in the parish, the baseball tournament down the street, and a few extra people from the highway have also decided that this will be the hour for their Academy visit as well.  We squeeze our way down the narrow aisles, through the crowd (picture Wal Mart on Black Friday here). 

The selection at Academy is vast, they have black, white, pink, red...Of course, we want pink.   Every year, we arrive and think we can pick any shoe from the selection.  How wrong we are.  THIS is the only Academy for miles!  Not to mention, Abby has a small foot, which means less of a selection for some reason.  Do they think that small-footed children do not play sports??  Anyway, we spend the next half hour searching for her shoe size.  We start with the exact shoe she wants, then settle for next best, then finally after tireless searching, we snatch the one and only size 12 1/2 on the shelf.  It's a boys' shoe with no trace of pink or purple :(  We decide that cute shoelaces can fix that.  Did I mention that anything below a size 1 is on the very bottom shelf?  Did I mention the crowd?  Did I mention they were all over the floor trying on shoes?  Did I mention the profuse sweating??  Picture me,  sweating from the sheer stress of the situation, pulling out shoe box after shoe box, trying on countless shoes, a 12 foot metal stock ladder in the middle of all of this madness going back and forth....UPSIDE DOWN!!! as children cry, whine, run and scream around us!!!

Finally, we prevail, settle on a boy shoe, grab some cute shoelaces, and exit the madness.  Abby proudly holds her new cleats in her arms.  We spend a few more stressful moments picking up baseballs and socks for Zac and new athletic shoes for me.  ((Oh yeah, Abby's friend was wearing Heely's, and they were zooming back and forth down random aisles all around me.  I had no control)) As we make our way to the counter, I am frustrated at the amount of time it took to find this single pair of shoes.  It happens every year.  Why do I wait so long to get what we need??

We find the shortest line, I put my merchandise on the counter, turn to Abby, and she says, "Where are my shoes?"....(((breathe)))).....ehem, "I don't know Abby, where are your shoes?" (((remain calm)))
"I don't know," she replies.....(((pulse, pulse, pulse, pulse))))

We gathered our things, spent the next 20 minutes walking, searching, zooming down every single aisle we had visited, which was a lot.  Back and forth, back and forth.  We never found them.  We had to start over.  Yes, you heard me...back into the trenches....upside down.  As we were searching for the second time, I said to Abby, "I am so mad I want to scream."  I noticed that my comment got a "look"  from a woman who had no children with her shopping for herself.  You know the look.  It's the "I can't believe she just told her child that" look.  It's the same look you give other people in Wal Mart.   I wanted to punch her.  I wanted to jump out of a window!  Alas, Academy has no windows....smart.

We settled on a boys' shoe a half size up, grabbed yet another cute pair of laces, paid, and left.  Good riddance!  The next time I mention a trip to Academy, remind me that it's Todd's turn.

RALPHIE

      Do you remember Ralphie from the movie A Christmas Story ?  There is a scene where he imagines his teacher grading all of the essays and marking them with F, F, F, while sobbing in disappointment....THEN...she gets to Ralphie's essay, reads it, gasps, weeps in delight and marks A, A, AAAAAA.  Then Ralphie wakes up from his daydream.  It doesn't turn out as he expected.

       This is one of my all time favorite movies for a few reasons.  Never mind how Dad pronounces the word "fragile".  It shows a child in his true light.  He hates the bunny costume.  He wants what he wants for Christmas no matter how ridiculous.  He knows what he wants to tell Santa and nearly misses the opportunity to sheer shyness.  He's scared to death of a bully who is really just a creep of a kid.  He has curse words in his dictionary, but does not use them at all...well, until the slip up.  Most of all, he has this incredible imagination.

       The relationship between a teacher and student is special.  In the 4th grade, I played the role of "Fern" in Charlotte's Web.  I was super shy, just like my middle daughter.  I spoke to no one (((ever))).  I had this incredible imagination and a deep love of reading, though.  The first time I read Charlotte's Web by E. B. White, I was so enthralled in this book, that I missed my bus stop.  When I looked up from my book, I was in the next town.  I was slouched down in my seat, so no one noticed.  My brother and sister had gotten off at our house and not noticed I had not {{Well, that's another issue}}.  My teacher saw the passion I had for this story and gave ME ((the shyest kid in the grade)) the lead.  I practiced, practiced, practiced, for weeks and weeks.  I imagined what it would be like.  I imagined applause, laughter, gasps, standing ovations...the works.  The play was a success...well, I guess it was.   Who knows.  It's what my child mind wanted it to be.  I am still grateful to that teacher for believing in me.

          That feeling has helped me as a teacher.  My parents were always terribly involved in school, so every holiday we showed up with gifts.  My mind worked as all children's minds work.  My mom would show me the gift, or I'd help to make something.  She would wrap it and put my name on it to give the next day.  My mind would race with possible reactions...jump up out of her chair and hug me....announce to the class that this was the best gift she received....tell me she always wanted that exact thing....let me know how she could use it.  I don't remember specific reactions, but I know what I imagined.  I imagined that I had made my teacher so happy.   Today, when I get a gift, I do my best to make that child feel like this is their moment.  I always come up with a reason I need it, where I can use it, how much I have been wanting this!   It could be a fabulous gift card to my favorite spot...or it could be a craft that a child made because her parents couldn't afford gifts (those are pretty special).  I receive each gift with a hug, if possible.  I hope that a child never goes away feeling that I did not appreciate their kind act.  As a teacher at a private school, I had to pull my truck up to the classroom to load up all of my Christmas goodies.  Each gift is so special to me, not because it is exactly what I have been wanting or needing, but because each one of those kids were so proud to give a gift to someone that was such a big part of their lives.  Whether you see it or not, a teacher and a child can have a pretty special relationship. It's why I teach.  Every child deserves success and encouragement.  I hope I fulfilled the imaginations this week.

Thank you to all of my angels for so many special gifts this week:)

Merry Christmas,

ACZ

Lesson:  God has given me the gift of teaching.  It's not all rainbows and sunshine, but it touches a child.  I am blessed.