What goes around...

So, you've heard the saying "What goes around, comes around", right? Well, I am a pretty firm believer in this phenomenon that what you dish out into the world will somehow, someday come back at you. And what better place to watch this mystical quality take shape than in your own children. Even better when your child looks like a virtual Mini-Me and you hear your own voice come right out of her... complete with genetic tendency to whine and complain.

That's right, Maia is driving me crazy. And my mother, I'm sure, finds this to be no small surprise as I was her own source of crazy for several years. I specifically recall having a sticker chart on our 70's poop-yellow refrigerator whereby we could chart my 4 year old progress at not whining for an entire day. (An entire day??!!! There were definitely much stricter expectations 27 years ago than there are now. I'd settle for 30 minutes in my own house.) Yeah, so how it worked was that for every day that I was "good" and didn't whine enough to bring my mother to the brink of lunacy, I got a sticker on my homemade sticker chart that hung on the fridge for all to view. At the end of the week, if I had a sticker for every day, then we got to go to Dairy Queen. (The rewarding of behavior with food is a topic for another day...)

The kicker to the whole "Laura's No-Whining Sticker Chart" was that I had NO CLUE what "whining" was. Mom would tell me not to whine and I truly had no idea what she was talking about. Call it selective understanding if you want to, but I remember being truly flumoxed by the whole deal of not whining=sticker=Dairy Queen. I must have had some idea about behaving because I know that I didn't throw huge tantrums or anything like that, and Mom attests to the fact that we did get to go to Dairy Queen sometimes (usually accompanied by a trip to Warehouse Sales where I would get to pick out a paint with water book, too). But the term "whine" was lost on me for a good number of years...which leads me to my own dear children.

The term "chip off the old block" is one way to describe my daughter. But maybe "chip off the old block with a healthy dose of dad's Irish temper" would be another way to describe her. Though, to be fair, Mom's Irish temper is just about as bad as Dad's and the Crazy Cakes we make for breakfast might just be from my family recipe, if you know what I mean. All of this is to say, Maia has a lot of difficult DNA that she is up against in the daily struggle to behave and act "normal". It literally wears her out to hold herself together all day at school! So, this morning when she perched on the edge of the bathroom sink to get a better look at just exactly what portion of her bangs were being clipped into her barrette, I had queasy uneasy flashbacks to my own hair plastering, curling, spraying, crying, gravity defying hair sessions in the before school hours of 1983-1993. You know what I'm talking about. And after the flashbacks, I had flashforwards of the next 10 years and how we will handle getting her hair "just right". I might shave her head in her sleep this weekend.

Once we finally got the plastic barrette at the proper angle and amount of millimeters on vs. off of the forehead, holding just the right amount of bangs this morning, I left the bathroom in a sort of dizzied fog. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for her to be worrying about how her hair looks every morning. We've already been battling the actual act of combing through her rat's nest of hair every day throughout this entire year of kindergarten. I can't face adding in the intense over-concern with how it is properly displayed after the combing. (And just to give you an idea about the combing... Combing Maia's hair requires no less than two products, detangling spray and--at least in the winter--conditioning, anti-frizz-flyaway cream, in addition to a warm--not too cold and not too hot-- washcloth to be held over her eyes while I am combing. Even with these measures, there is still screaming and crying during the combing.) Once we're through with that fiasco, she usually lets me put whatever barrette, clip or ponytail in that she's picked out and she's on her way. Well, the last two days have seen the hair fiasco extended past combing and into fixing, so may the force be with me, I guess.

I'm tempted to let her do it all herself, but I think there might be a social worker involved by the end of the week if I let her go to school that way. LOL Not to mention broken mirrors and even more crying at home. And, thus, we may be going back to shorter hair for summer. Stay tuned to see how we deal with this as time marches on. ;) And just remember as you struggle in the mornings with your own little darlings, there is plenty of whining (and crying and screaming) going on at our house almost every day between 6:45 and 7:55am. It is all coming back to haunt me... going around and around and around until one day, many years from now, it will land at Maia's house and drive her crazy, too.

Most Embarrassing Moments

So, when you think of your most embarrassing moment, what comes to mind? I've heard this question before and I'm not really sure that I would have had an answer for it...until today. Yes, that's right, today, Saturday, April 21st, 2007, may be the day that I experienced my most embarrassing moment.

And before I tell you what it was, I'm going to share with you someone else's most embarrassing moment (because it makes mine seem much, much less embarrassing.) As most of you know, when Shad was teaching in Tolono, he was also the high school soccer coach. I think it was probably about 5 years ago now, we went to the high school graduation because my cousin attended school there and was graduating, and Shad also had at least 10 soccer players graduating. One of Shad's players was also a drama/music buff type of kid (yeah, the soccer team attracted all kinds and not necessarily the athletic ones), and this kid was supposed to sing the National Anthem at his graduation. So, it was the beginning of the ceremony and he got up there in his cap and gown and everyone stood up. And he started singing. And he sang about 6 bars of the song and then just froze. He couldn't remember the words. The crowd of a couple thousand people was completely silent. He started the song again. And again right in the same spot he froze. Can you even imagine?? Well, the crowd was awesome and without missing more than a beat everyone instinctively started singing the rest of the song and finished it with him. I'm sure that to this day, that moment is that kid's most embarrassing moment. At least, I hope there isn't something more embarrassing than that already in his young life.

Which brings me to today. I'm sure that other embarrassing things have happened to me and I just can't remember what they were anymore. I do know that I have never totally screwed up during a dance or piano recital, band concert, pom pon performance, or anything else like that. Practice makes (close to) perfect, and I did a lot of practicing as a youngster. This isn't to say that I haven't messed anything up ever...because of course I have...but a certain degree of OCD has kept things in check (like overplanning as a teacher and student) and minimized some degree of embarrassment along the way. Today's embarrassing moment can be chalked up to sheer clumsiness and little bit of funky luck, I believe.

So, here's the setting: Williams Elementary School Cafeteria Stage. Audience of about 50 people including 10 students on the stage with me who are competing in the 5th grade Battle of the Books Championship.

I was the moderator for the event, reading the questions and giving answers, etc. for the scholastic bowl type event. It was the 5th and final round of the morning, so I was quite practiced and didn't really feel nervous anymore even though the audience had grown significantly and I was on stage with a microphone. It was time for the coin toss. I had already done 4 coin tosses this morning and didn't think twice about it. I asked one team to call heads or tails, they called it, and I flipped the coin up in the air. But instead of catching it easily and flipping it onto the back of my hand like the pro that I believed myself to be, I clapped my hands around air, scratched my nose sharply with a fingernail and somehow tipped the penny right
down
.
.
my
.
.
shirt.

I don't know exactly what kind of noise I made, but I think it was a half squeal/half laugh kind of noise as I clutched my chest and spun around on my heel to try to rescue the coin out from under my shirt. Now, no kidding, there's not a lot to get lost in under my shirt...LOL...and as I spun around the coin slid straight down the middle, over my stomach, out of my shirt, and rolled under the folded up risers and backstage curtain on the cafeteria stage. I looked for the penny on the floor in order to call a very dramatic Heads or Tails but I never could locate the coin. I felt like a complete moron, of course, but it was truly hilarious and everyone was laughing. A student offered up a nickel and I made her toss it!

Somehow, I recomposed myself and carried forth with the Championship Round but, no lie, people have been talking about it all day. On my way out of the school, several moms commented on how well I recovered afterwards. A teacher who was there this morning was up here at the library a few minutes ago and said how funny it was. And Shad is counting on receiving lots of jabs about it Monday morning at school, particularly from the assistant principal who offered me a magnetic coin afterwards (and I'm not sure I even get that joke!)

Right. So, that is my story. And now that I've finished it, I'm remembering the time that I first went to Maia's Mattoon preschool to visit when Nate was only about 2 weeks old. I had been forced to buy new jeans since I didn't fit into anything yet, and when I got home from the preschool visit I discovered the long back of the leg sticker boasting SIZE 12 SIZE 12 SIZE 12 right there stuck to (what else?) the back of my leg.

At least I didn't forget the National Anthem lyrics in front of my graduation ceremony.... :)

Freakin' snow!

It's snowing. It's April 14th and it's freakin' snowing. Did we move to Canada and forget to bring our passports or what? Driving wind, biting cold, wet icy snow. Three weeks ago it was nearly 80 degrees and I was wearing sandals and actually shaved my legs more than twice a week so that I could wear capri pants. Maia was wearing a halter top and shorts outside to play. And now? Back to sweatshirts, socks, coats...GLOVES. It's just not right. It feels as wrong as the 80 degrees in March felt. Where is the middle ground? Where are the mostly cut and dry seasons from our youth? It would warm up a bit in April (not really in March too much) and then get cool again for a month or so until May when it would get hot and stay that way through September. You could pretty much count on not having snow after March in IL. This is our third snow of April already this year. None of it stuck on the ground, of course, but today it has been snowing for an hour now and not just spitting flurries here and there. It is blowing flakes large enough for me to see from here at the circ desk.

Did any of you watch that movie from a few years ago "The Day After Tomorrow" about the coming of a second and sudden ice age? The actual plot of the movie was pretty stupid, but the theory of global warming affecting the Atlantic ocean currents enough to mess up our climate and spur us into another ice age was compelling. And frightening. The fact that we could see this happen in our life times is real. Anyone who doesn't believe that there is something going on, that global warming is a liberal political agenda, is just totally misinformed or ignorant. Al Gore's An Incovenient Truth is a fabulous DVD (and the book is really neat to look at/read, too) that everyone should be required to watch. There should be a little quiz on it when you file your taxes or something to make sure that all Americans have at least heard and thought about this information. It is not a political agenda. There is a mountain of facts, piled up for years and years now, that all point to one conclusion: humans are destroying the planet. And we can ignore it if we want to, but our grandchildren my face dire consequences. Eventually, something will have to be done. Incovenient? Yes, it may be just that. We may have to increase mass transit so that we are not all driving cars. We may have to outlaw vehicles of a certain size that use more gasoline than we can rationally justify. We know that there are alternative fuels and possibilities for alternatives in transportation alone that would cut our emissions drastically. Our government hasn't yet taken the necessary steps, however, to make these fuels available and affordable for the general public. I think we all know why.

We're thinking about buying a new car. Why? Because our 2000 Hyundai Sonata that we got in '04 sounds like it's gonna die in the middle of the road or take off in flight. Either option bodes ominous. Can we afford a hybrid car that would use less petroleum based gasoline and thereby reduce our family's share of greenhouse gas emissions? No we cannot. We cannot afford one of these cars and we will be forced to purchase yet another vehicle that eats oil purchased from countries on the other side of the globe, a vehicle that pollutes the air and costs us more and more each year to operate due to increased oil costs.

Is our choice of vehicle linked to the snow we're having today and the 80 degree weather we had last month. I dunno, but it sure does feel weird, doesn't it? I've talked to many people recently who all agree that the weather is just off kilter, just somehow not right. The snow may not accumulate on the ground today, but as evening comes and it gets even colder out, the very wet streets are going to be slick. It feels like November outside, and I for one am tired of it.

He didn't become president, even if he was technically elected, but Al Gore is on top of things that really matter. Check out his website http://www.algore.com/ and see for yourself.

And then bundle up!!

My Angels

I feel guilty for getting "off topic" yesterday about my Lost Lust. So, here's a cute picture of the kids from Easter. And here's a story about how My Angels behaved (or rather didn't behave this morning):

Today being Wednesday, it is my evening to work and I therefore don't go in until noon. Typically, I take Maia to school and then Nate to the sitter so that I can do errands without children in tow. It is usually my only opportunity all week to do this. And so it was my plan this morning to get up and take a shower before Shad left and then get the kids ready and off to their respective locales before going to the grocery store.

Everything went pretty well until 7:55am. Prior to that, Maia had used about 4 gallons of water out of the sink to wet her morning "eye washcloth" that keeps her eyes from itching when she first gets up. She had dripped lots of the water all over the bathroom, lost the hand towel in the trashcan, soaked the ear of her new pink Easter "rab rab" rabbit, and just generally made a mess. But overall, that wasn't anything that we couldn't deal with. Nate made peanut butter bread by himself and managed to scoot 3 out of our 4 kitchen chairs over to the counter in doing this. Not good, but still nothing that we couldn't deal with.

Then the phone rang. It was the special ring that signals that it's our cell phone calling the house. It had to be Shad. I ran from the back of the house to find the phone and got it just in time while Nate screamed "I wanna get it. I wanna get it." Shad said that he had both of the kids' bags in his car. And Maia's coat. He was sorry and he didn't want me looking for them at the last minute and not finding them so he thought he should call. No point in arguing about why and how this happened at that point, so we hung up.

Yes, it was good to get the call ahead of time, but then I had to tell Maia and deal with her freak-out about it for 30 minutes. See, her backpack has her "Daily Kindergarten Folder" in it. This folder must be turned in first thing in the morning by the kindergartener and then the teacher puts their graded papers in it and records their daily behavior, checks notes from parents, writes notes to parents, etc. If the folder is not turned in, there is no sticker or star received for the day. On Fridays, if you do not have a sticker on each day of the week, you do not get a ticket for the prize box. This is clearly a major issue for Maia, who does not believe in rules or following directions at home but at school is a regular nazi about the rules.

Hyperventilation began approximately 5 seconds after I told her that her bag was still in Daddy's car. Now, at that moment, she did not yet have her clothes on (read: we were already running late!) and she took this news so poorly that she ran to her room screaming and rolled up in her blanket sobbing about her folder. Nate ran in after her. Lately, my tactic with her in the middle of these meltdowns has been to leave her in her room alone and shut the door. She can cry all she wants, I just don't want to hear it. So, I went in and picked up Nate and carried him out of the room. He didn't like this and started crying. I went to his room and pulled some clothes out of his dresser to try to focus on getting at least one of them ready to go. While I was fishing for socks, Nate shut himself in the bathroom and LOCKED THE DOOR.

*#&%! I screamed this loudly. I'm not proud of it ,but shit happens and we say bad words. I pleaded with the 2 year old to unlock the door. He was giggling from the other side. I was picturing all of my makeup strewn about the sink and how he could totally destroy most of the bathroom in .7 seconds, not to mention how he could do something really nuts like get the hair dryer out, plug it in over the sink and electrocute himself. We've had this issue before with him locking himself in his own room and several months ago changed the doorknob so that he can't do that anymore. But honestly, the bathroom door needs a lock, am I right? And he hadn't ever messed with it before. So, I ran for the Phillips head screwdriver and went back to the bathroom where I unscrewed the doorknob. While I was doing this, Nate was on the other side calling me Poopyhead. I was steamed. I finally broke into the bathroom, grabbed the boy, spanked him hard and carried him to his room for time out. He resumed crying.

I'll be honest, I wanted to run away. I thought about leaving them all here to fend for themselves. I thought about packing what I needed and beginning a new life. Maybe overseas. But they were both still crying, and there's this thing inside me about loving them and taking care of them that I'm not able to ignore. (Lucky for them, eh!)

I dressed Maia (she was not going to do it herself and actually asked "How can I put clothes on when I'm so sad?"), then I dressed Nate. I found their shoes. I packed the alternate diaper bag. I wrote a note to the kindergarten teacher about Maia not having her folder/backpack and how she was very upset about it. I got them out to the car in the rain. I drove to Riddle School and Maia was still crying. I helped her out of the car and she grabbed on to me. The supervisor pulled her away from me and helped her inside. I said a prayer that someone would comfort her inside that school and help her get over the folder issue in a way that I was not able to.

Lord, grant me the serenity...

I went to the store and bought lots of expensive food that is bad for us. Now I'm going to go eat some of it and get ready for work. I don't know whether or not to be glad that I work unil 8pm tonight or not. It's a toss up right now...

Addiction

*sigh* (No, there are no motorcycles on the Island. But if Matthew Fox is there, then sign me up for the flight!)

Shad and I have recently become semi-obsessed with Lost. We never had a chance to watch it on tv in the past couple of years. And so when it came to the library's new teen collection on DVD recently, I snagged it before it got entered into the system. (Just one of the perks of working here!) We started the first season maybe a month ago and we're now about 1/2 way through season 2 (which we ordered from Amazon cause we don't have it at work and it was a must have...). If you have not watched Lost, let me just say that I highly recommend it. And, no, it is not like Survivor.

Watching the pilot, having never seen any of the episodes even in passing on tv, we did laugh at how convenient it was that most of the survivors of the plane crash on this show are drop dead gorgeous. Not only that, but they just happened to land on the beach with enough luggage and clothing and provisions (even antibiotics) to survive rather well and look fabulous most of the time. Sure, they get sweaty and wet and muddy in their treks through the jungle and sure some people have died (they must have had shorter contracts) but all in all these people look very, very good for having survived a plane crash. So, in the first few episodes, we thought it was a little hokey but laughed it off and kept watching. After all, it has been a top rated show for almost 3 years now. We were just way behind in getting started on it.

In the several weeks since then, this casual DVD watching has turned into us getting the kids to bed earlier and earlier (which is good for their health and well-being!!) so that we can watch 2 episodes before bed instead of just one. If you've watched the show, you know that it leaves you hanging every "week" and since we can just keep watching right away we don't want to wait. We both confess that we've been thinking about the show during the day, and since we watch it before bed and it is pretty dramatic and sometimes violent, we're having weird dreams... Like the one where I had a library bag full of dynamite and used it to blow open the front doors of the library...yeah, that would be courtesy of watching Lost before bed.

Now, let's get to the heart of the matter here... I mentioned that Lost has lots of nice looking people. Of course it does...it's a network television drama. And I have to say that evidently I am not above being sucked into the beauty of celebrity. And Evangeline Lilly is just the cutest little freckled thing...really seems like a sweet yet tough girl. And a great actress. Really. And some of the other actresses are awesome, too. I thoroughly enjoy their performances. But ladies, my apologies and all, but Matthew Fox and Josh Holloway steal the show. I can't explain it, but I think that it must have something to do with their vulnerability as castaways. That and the fact that they get caught out in the rain a lot. ;) And Jack being a doctor. What is that all about? The whole Dr. thing is even sexier on a deserted island than it is in "real life"! A freaking surgeon even! Honest and smart and caring. Counter that with Bad Boy Sawyer who isn't even nice to Kate half of the time (even though you know he totally wants her)... I'm telling you, the guys who wrote and casted this show must be gay. I'm not sure how else they could have gotten all of this so dead on. There's a reason that female audiences were literally lined up by the thousands for the pilot screening without having ever seen the show.

There is one thing... I decided today that really Lost needs to be on HBO so that there can be more sex. Maybe I'm just so far behind since I'm about a year off right now still watching Season 2, and maybe there's been a little more going on lately in Season 3, but Sayid and Shannon in the tent just didn't do it for me. I was happy for them, even if it was short lived, but there has got to be more for these people. ABC is just not the venue to get this accomplished.

If you think I have lost my focus today, well I have! Aren't we all entitled to that every once in a while? And if you haven't watched Lost yet... get the DVD's so that you can start at the beginning. And, Shad, honey...if you get around to reading this, which I'm doubtful about, then you are more than welcome to start your own blog about Evangeline Lilly if you want to. ;)