Do Our Best Work

Reading messages from my children's teachers, who technically are on break right now, but are scrambling to restructure. This is spring break here, but they have asked teachers to transition to eLearning for the week after. This is new - we are not a school system that has used eLearning historically, so teachers, administrators, and students are all flying a bit by the seat of their pants. 

In one of these emails, this stood out.

"Let’s be flexible with each other and do our best to work through this time in the most efficient and reasonable ways possible."

This literally hit my inbox as I work on a message to share with my staff on what our ideas look like for how to handle the next several weeks.

Right now, I have a deadline in one month. 

It *might* change, but I can't count on that.

In the meantime, I have offices of employees and clients to worry about. I now am carrying the burden of both financial AND physical well-being, on some level. 

It's heavy. I'd be lying if I said differently. I'm not carrying these things alone, by any stretch, but here they are.

So, as we all navigate these bizarre, uncharted waters, as we watch Italy and Spain stop in their tracks, as we scramble as a country to gain access to proper testing, as a divided nation grows more so in a time when supporting one another is SO critical, I think I will cling to two things - the words of this teacher:

"Let’s be flexible with each other and do our best to work through this time in the most efficient and reasonable ways possible."

Along with the words of one of the best managers I had an opportunity to work under:

"The task ahead of us is never as great as the power behind us." 

We are powerful when we work together. I'm grateful for that.

Mario Marathon Time again!!

Our setup for MM7 – the feed is happening on a 32” TV, with chats and twitter on my laptop.

I’ve talked about Mario Marathon a zillion times, once here, again here, made some cookies here, and so on. (Search the blog for Mario Marathon to see the posts I’ve shared over the last 4 years!)

I’m sharing again.

The guys started their event on Friday, so at the time I’m writing this, they have been playing for 53 and a half hours. Unfortunately, last night, they endured a DDoS attack and were unable to properly process donations. As a result, they are behind pace.

Donations, you say? Yep. See, Mario Marathon is a volunteer run charity event. Exactly *ZERO* dollars of the money raised is used to cover the overhead for the organizers. They use their vacation time and personal funds to operate the event. All money raised goes directly to this amazing organization, Child’s Play Charity. Child’s Play uses the funds raised to fulfill wish lists from children’s hospitals around the world – games, books, movies and more. From the Child’s Play Charity site:

Since 2003, we’ve set up and organized Child’s Play, a game industry charity dedicated to improving the lives of children with toys and games in our network of over 70 hospitals worldwide. Over the years, you as a community have answered the call and come together to raise millions of dollars.

Child’s Play works in two ways. With the help of hospital staff, we set up gift wish lists full of video games, toys, books, and other fun stuff for kids. By clicking on a hospital location on our map, you can view that hospital’s wish list and send a gift.

Child’s Play also receives cash donations throughout the year. With those cash donations, we purchase new consoles, peripherals, games, and more for hospitals and therapy facilities. These donations allow for children to enjoy age-appropriate entertainment, interact with their peers, friends, and family, and can provide vital distraction from an otherwise generally unpleasant experience.

Before the start of the event this year, Mario Marathon was responsible for bringing in over $400,000 to Child’s Play. I’d love to see them cross over the $500,000 mark this year! I continue to be so grateful for healthy children, and fight hard for families who are not as fortunate.

#SuitYourself and #YouSuitMe

Body image is such a difficult, personal thing. Women verbalize it more, but men face challenges as well. To compound the issue, we tend tear others down, especially when safely behind a keyboard and screen name. Somewhere along the way, society taught us that we will feel better knowing that someone feels worse.

I have a daughter who I am trying my DAMNEDEST to bring up to be strong in her confidence of herself. Having been what could generously be described as small my whole life, I know the feelings that my long, lean daughter might face. It crushed me the other morning when she came bouncing in to tell me what she weighed, and was excited because she had gained 3 pounds. I never, ever want her weight to be a focal point for her!

Many of you, my friends, are also raising kids. Let's work on teaching them 2 things -

First – that they are beautifully and wonderfully made. What some might perceive as flaws are an element of their design.  We are not all supposed to be the same (wouldn’t THAT be boring!?) and that they are loved, supported and fantastic, just like they are.

Second – that others around us are also beautiful and wonderful. Do your kids hear you laughing about someone’s appearance? Or making snide comments? Do you spend more time tearing others down or building them up? How do you talk about YOURSELF? Are you constantly focusing on a bulge, a bumpy area or a jiggly spot? What could you be saying (or NOT saying) that reaffirms for your kids that we’re all beautiful in our own, unique ways?

We’re entering the time of year where we all show a little more skin. Shorts, tank tops, and of course the dreaded swim suit. Here’s where we have the chance to make a difference.

An Atlanta-based radio morning show, The Bert Show, is kicking off summer with their second year of empowerment. They are encouraging us all to take a swimsuit selfie and post it – Instagram, Facebook, whatever, but be BOLD in knowing that you’re powerful, beautiful and confident. The hashtag being used is #SuitYourself. Read more about it here, and see how things went last year!

I want to go one step further. I want to follow that hashtag, and comment on as many of those folks as I can, sharing something I LOVE about each person’s picture. I encourage you to do the same – if not as part of the #SuitYourself campaign, just make it a practice to compliment someone every single day. You will feel far better knowing that you’ve made someone smile than you ever would tearing someone down.

I’m going to add my own hashtag to the mix here, and comment with #YouSuitMe – because you do. You are who you are, and you should ROCK that confidence!

So – #SuitYourself (link to your photo in the comments for me!) and tell others #YouSuitMe!

The Juggler

I haven’t blogged in what feels like a million years.

It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, it’s far more that I have so much to say, and not a lot of time to say it with. Add to that the fact that I feel like I’m apologizing every time I show up here because I haven’t blogged in forever, and it’s getting sort of lame! So, no apologies.

I’m not going to apologize for living in the moment over the last few months. And we’ve had some really, REALLY great moments!

We’ve been to Virginia & Florida, spent a lot of time with family, started school, started gymnastics, started football. We’ve run practically non-stop since the first of July, and we’ve loved it.

Right this very moment, however? The non-stop of it all is catching up with me. I’m exhausted, physically and emotionally. I’m overwhelmed, trying to keep my head above water. Classes, work, home, the kids, PTO stuff, I’m juggling a million little balls, and am scared to death I might drop one or two. Some of them are glass, and if they fall, they could shatter into a million irreparable pieces.

Luckily, most of them would just bounce, a few might dent a little, but the majority would survive the fall. The thing is, I don’t want to drop them. I love things about each of those balls I’m juggling, it’s why I picked them up to begin with.

This is the season that I am in, I guess. As we transition from the easy days of summer to the full days of fall, it’s just going to be harder. Certainly until I get back to a point where I can find my rhythm.

Because those balls in the air? They’ll stay that way, with the right rhythm.

The Truth Behind the “OVEL”

It started out being part of a normal, every day, mundane task. I was washing up a few dishes, standing at the sink, when it caught my eye.

I’m not sure why it did, just then. It had been there forever, a fact verified by the layer of dust across it. I’d stood there at the sink, peeking out that same window countless times. It was always there. I just didn’t notice it anymore.



I was perplexed by it at first. It was familiar, and yet, it was “off” – I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was… Four beads. Letters. O. V. E. L. The E was even backwards. Covered in dust, neglected. Hanging in the window, obviously meant to shine, it now looked meaningless and out of place.
And then I took it down. I rinsed the strand of beads in the water, dried it off gently to not break the string. I slid the L back to it’s rightful spot. And I smiled.

Because in that moment, I found love.

Our daughter had strung those beads a few years ago. The E was still backwards – it was an imperfect love, but it was love just the same. And once I put a little effort into it, it shone and glistened again in the sunlight.



I put it back in that sunny spot on the kitchen window. It’s my intention to keep it shining, glowing with it’s colors. But it was reassuring to know that, even if it had been neglected a bit, just a little work had made it imperfectly beautiful again.

Here’s to always finding the love you may have forgotten was there. Here’s to taking a few minutes to make it shine brightly as part of your every day. And here’s to knowing that it’s not meant to be perfect, but that doesn’t mean it’s not perfect for you!

~Linked this one up with PYHO with Shell at Things I Can't Say... Check out some of the other amazing posts...

Pity Party

I’m having a bit of a pity party today. Part of me even has the audacity to feel guilty over my pity party, because really, in the grand scope of things, my stuff is pretty trivial.

But the “my” stuff isn’t really “my” stuff at all. It’s bigger than me, and not something I have a lot of control over, or say in. I’m just along for the ride, and right now the ride SUCKS.

So many of my friends are hurting over so many different things. Last week involved 2 different kids being diagnosed with cancer. This week includes some big changes where a number of my friends work. There are huge, scary, lingering unknowns out there for all of these folks, and I’m hurting and frightened for them. I want to fix things, and make it all be better, and I can’t. And I hate it.

I want to look each of them in the eye and say “It’s all going to be fine!” but you can’t do that. You don’t know that. It’s scary, and overwhelming, and consuming me from the inside.

I’ve cried a lot today. I’ve also had a 3 Musketeers and a Cherry Coke. I’ve used about a million tissues, and undoubtedly look like something even the cat wouldn’t bring in. And none of that is going to change anything. None of that is going to help any of the people who are hurting, and who need some support, or answers, or whatever they need. It’s certainly not making me feel better. But it seems to be all that I can do right now. Cry.

So, I’m going to push on for now. That’s all I can do. Be thankful for the good in my life, do my best to hold up my friends, and push on. What else is there, right?

Yesterday

It should be such a good week.

It WAS such a good week.

I finally treated myself to a DSLR camera, which I had wanted for a very long time, and just couldn’t justify. It was a want, not a need, and let’s face it moms, wants aren’t typically at the top of our “get” list.

It was finals week, and I was feeling good about my classes, and getting to take a few weeks off before summer session starts.

School is nearly over, and it’s time for the fun, year-end stuff. We’ve been planning a fun trip to an amusement park for the 6th grade, and we’ve had a blast with fundraising. We go on Tuesday, and I’m super-excited.

And then? Yesterday happened.

Part of yesterday I cannot yet talk about specifically. I know that I have friends who are hurting, and that there will be more hurt before healing comes. I’m hurting. A relationship, one that we hoped would grow and flourish, and be wonderful for so many people, is being pulled apart. Not by the parties in that relationship, but by others, higher up, who don’t know. Who don’t understand. It’s painful, and going to get worse.

And after spending time with some of those most directly impacted, wounded by what is coming, I came home and found more bad news.

Naomi, a sweet two year old little girl who lives in my community with her mom, dad, her four year old sister and one year old brother, was just diagnosed with neuroblastoma. Another baby, whose life is now forever changed by the monster that is childhood cancer. Another family, stopped in their tracks, and entering a new normal, on that involves oncologists, MIBG, CT, TPN, DX, stem cell rescue, chemotherapy, radiation, and hopefully sooner rather than later, NED.

It was enough to destroy me last night. I lost it.

Today? It’s enough to strengthen my resolve. Reaffirms for me that, no matter what, I cannot stop fighting for these kids. All the kids.

Tomorrow is a new day, with new challenges and new successes.

I need a few successes for a minute, though. Please.

The “Why”

Friday night, I was as proud as I could possibly be of my boy.

This guy:




Became this guy :

And donated this:












to help a child who has lost their hair to a medical condition. He went ahead and raised money for St. Baldrick’s while he was at it, raising over $3,200.
(I gotta be honest. Right now? Still pretty proud.)
I forget sometimes though that people don’t know why we care this much. Why my son, at 9 years old, decided to grow his hair until it would be long enough to donate. Why he smiled through three years of being mistaken for a girl, and endured endless questions about when he was going to cut that hair.  I hope it helped him that his dad and I were so supportive of what he was doing, that we never hesitated to explain to people that we were incredibly proud of what he was doing and why.
You see, our awareness of the reality of childhood cancers began in 2005, when Jeep was just 4. A little girl in his Sunday School class was diagnosed with Stage IV Neuroblastoma, an aggressive cancer of the adrenal system. Her diagnosis came just days before her fifth birthday. Her name is Morgan, and she was our friend. And so? We talked about it. Morgan was sick, and the doctors were going to have to try to make her better. It was going to make her hair fall out, and there would be lots of Sundays that she wouldn’t be at church with us.
When Jeep started kindergarten a little over a year later, Morgan was a first grader at our school, and we saw her after school every day, when she was well enough to be there. You see, the treatment protocol for neuroblastoma involves several rounds of chemo, surgery to remove as much of the solid tumor as possible, maybe more chemo, some radiation, then a bone marrow aspiration in the hopes that they can get clean marrow. Why do they need clean marrow? Because they then attack the body with enough chemical to kill off the marrow still in the body of an innocent child, and then they return the “clean” marrow to the child and hope it sticks.  Then there are days, weeks, months of isolation. The fear of contracting an illness before the marrow has fully recovered is overwhelming. Your bone marrow is what provides you with your immune system, and for a child who is already weakened by chemo, and who has no immune system, a simple cold that inconveniences you or I? It could be a death sentence.
Morgan’s cancer wouldn’t give up, but neither would her family. Her mom and three younger sisters packed up and they went to New York to be part of a clinical trial, hoping that it would be her cure. Lots of times, her scans would show improvement, things would look better and better, and then? A new spot. Another tumor.
Eventually, after fighting for more than half of her life, on October 2nd of 2010, Morgan passed away.
Early in Morgan’s treatment cycle, we connected with another family whose 2  year old was diagnosed with the same cancer, about 2 weeks after Morgan’s diagnosis. The girls underwent essentially the same treatments, just a week or two apart. Colette is a survivor, but the impact of the treatments on her body are still very much an unknown. Her hearing was severely compromised, and she wears hearing aides now. She’s still to young to know for sure what the impact may be for her in regards to her reproductive system, and the risk of secondary cancers as a direct result of the treatments she received are very high.
In 2011, another friend’s son was diagnosed with medulloblastoma, a brain tumor. Again, treatments, surgery, more treatments.
The part that crushes me is that when you see marketing from cancer fundraisers, you frequently will see young kids. What you don’t see, the reality of it is this:

• There are 12 primary forms of pediatric cancers.
• 1 in 330 kids will be diagnosed with some form of cancer before they are 20.
• Most pediatric cancers are treated using lower doses of adult treatments. Research is needed to provide kids with safer treatment options, providing them with a better future.
• Less than 5% of the federal government’s total funding for cancer research is dedicated to childhood cancers each year.
• In 2009, the American Cancer Society spent $22 of every $100 raised on fundraising expenses, $6 on management, $14 on research for adult cancers, and spent $0.60 of that same $100 raised on research for childhood cancers. Sixty cents.
• Worldwide, each day another 720 children are diagnosed with a form of pediatric cancer, and 250 kids lose their battle.

No one asks for cancer. Some make choices that they know carry a higher risk – smoking, sunbathing, etc, but kids?
Kids have done nothing.
Think about the people you know who have been treated for cancer. Think about how sick they were with chemo. The pain in their bodies. The surgeries. The recovery.
Now, imagine that they’re two.
THAT is why we fight. The reality of it is why I’m passionate about it, and Jeep embraced it early on.
Possibly my most favorite part of Friday night was much later, in the quiet of our own home, as we prepared to say goodnight, as I rubbed his fuzzy shorn head, I asked Jeep if he was glad he’d done it.
“Oh yeah.”
Would you do it again?
“Over and over.”

Overhaul

I clicked over to here the other day, this little space that is my corner in the internet, and looked at my blog. REALLY looked at it. For the first time in a long time. Not as the author, not from the inside, but as someone might who didn’t know me.

Theoretically, I looked at it the same way you do.

I realized how neglected it’s been. I always worry about my lack of writing in this window of time that is the tax season, but I never really worried about how it looked. About it’s visual appeal. I had laid it out in a way I liked, I liked my color scheme, I was proud of the dark text on light background, no captcha and no auto-music.

But I looked at the header, and realized that those kids? I’ve not seen them in a LONG time.  Same with the profile photo of me.  I’ve not done a very good job of updating, maintaining, or developing what I have here.

I’ve grown and changed. My children have as well. What I share in this space is about so many different angles of my life and who I am, who we are as a family, and visually, this space doesn’t really reflect that for me.

So, I’m adding a blog overhaul to my list of things to do after tax season. I’m not going to be able to do much with it before then, but I’m looking forward to playing with it, building it back up, and making it feel like mine again!

And I’ll keep the dark text on the light background, no captcha and no auto-music. Pinky-swear.

Do you have other things you love or hate about blogs you visit? I’m open to tips and suggestions!

Such a proud momma…

So…

That boy? The one that just turned twelve?

He has insisted on stealing my heart.

I mentioned in his birthday post that he was growing his hair out to donate it. Today he told me this:

On April 26th, we’re going to join some students at Indiana University and he’s going to take part in a St. Baldrick’s event, shaving his head to raise money and awareness for pediatric cancer.

This decision was not one he took lightly, and I’m so impressed with him, I can’t begin to describe it to you. His hair has become such a big part of his identity, and let’s face it, it’s tough being a tween/teen. This was something he slept on, thought about, and decided he was willing to do.

I am so proud of him. I can’t begin to explain it.

Anyway – if you would like to donate, we’d love that, but if you can’t donate, would you consider sharing his donation site via your social media  of choice? Each tweet or FB post reaches out to someone else, and if we raise nothing more than awareness for the kids who are fighting cancer, that’s one more step.

Jeep’s St. Baldrick’s Fundraising Page

Thanks!

Twelve

Twelve years ago today I became a mother.

It’s hard to believe it’s been that long, and in the very next breath, that day was a lifetime ago.

Dearest J-

You are technically 2/3rds of the way through my time with you, and in so many ways, we’re just getting started. We’ve hit some walls and climbed some mountains. We’re still learning as we go, you and me, and it’s not always going to be fun, or pretty, or fair, but we’re going to get there. I hope, when we get to the other side of this climb, you remember the fun more than the fight, and can smile from the peak of the mountain, knowing that you conquered the climb.

I love the passion you have for the things you care deeply about. Your fierce independence. The stubborn set of your chin. I love watching you interact with young children – your kindness and gentleness with them brings such a peace to my soul.

Always a tender spirit, you are the child who woke me in the middle of the night to ask me if we could donate to the ASPCA after seeing a commercial. You chose to grow out your hair to donate, and help with our various awareness and fundraising events to fight childhood cancer.

The promise and potential you hold within you overwhelms me. I cannot wait to see what you choose to do, and watch you grow into the young man you are destined to be.

I am so proud to be your mom. Thank you for giving me that opportunity.

I love you to the moon and back.

Mommy

Scare Tactics

My friend Heather tweeted this :

All kids are going to die. Parent-Scare time. MT @latimes: Bounce house injuries rocket; child hurt every 46 minutes lat.ms/10YUnS4

— heather (@operopis) November 26, 2012

I went & read the article, and it talked about how injuries from bounce houses “skyrocketed” between 1995 and 2010. It did NOT  go into how many new bounce house related centers were opened, or how many new bounce houses were made available to rent by rental centers, or anything else to address the relationship between accessibility to the bounce house and injuries, because that might be helpful and even factual, and destroy the scare tactic aspect of the whole thing.

In a time where childhood obesity is at an all-time high, and our kids are difficult to peel away from televisions and video games, does it make sense for us to keep employing scare tactics against physical activities? When the media attempts to take a compilation of data from a scientific article (this one from Pediatrics, the Official Journal of the American Academy of Pediatrics) and make it into a money-generating news story, are they doing us any favors?

It’s stated, both in the actual journal article and in the LA Times piece, that guidelines for use are needed. This is partnered with a photo in the LA Times piece of someone holding a small child while jumping. The issue here will be that the one sentence in the Times article that talks about improving guidelines is overshadowed by “broken bones” and “one injured child every 46 minutes”. People will read this and think “death trap” instead of “I should make sure that my child(ren) is following the posted rules of use for this activity to reduce the risk of injury!”

Folks? Can I encourage you to encourage your kids to still bounce? To ride their bikes? To play like kids should play? Yes, there is every likelihood that at some point, your child will have an injury that requires medical attention. We all hope not, but it happens. Teach them to follow the rules, but encourage them to play with abandon. A broken arm is easier to heal than the long-term effects of obesity, and frankly, I’d rather have great memories of the bounce house than of a Happy Meal anyway.

A Birthday Letter to my Baby Girl

It’s kind of funny to call you my baby girl, because you’re certainly no baby. Today you are a smart, silly, active nine year old young lady, growing by leaps and bounds.

You’ve become so very independent, and such a helper. You love learning about new things – from helping us in the kitchen, to reading about a topic that interests you, you’re always absorbing information.

Forever willing to lend a helping hand, you’re thoughtful of other people. You rarely complain, unless it’s about your brothers!

You’ve always had your own sense of style, and I love watching your creativity as you put together outfits, gifts for people, and pieces of artwork. You sometimes get angry when we remind you of it, but you best described your personality when you were younger by telling us that your favorite color was “sparkle”.

Because you? You sparkle. Your laugh is infectious, your smile may well split your face one day, and your joy pours from you like it will never end. When you are hurt, you hurt deeply, but heal quickly, and forgive readily.

So, you can be mad that I call you sparkle, but I can think of no better word to describe your heart and soul.

I love you,

Mommy

I’m me, you’re you, and that’s awesome.

So, it’s an election year.

Apparently, this means it’s time to all pick sides, and then stand on our respective side while making faces and generally being mean to those who are on the other side. There’s lots of name calling, finger pointing, posturing and generally brattiness.

At least, that’s what I see. A lot of people acting towards each other in ways that, were my children doing it, would result in serious repercussions. The people who post about how horrible bullying is turn right around and do it in the name of politics. Or religion. Or chicken sandwiches. Or whatever.

I posted this to my personal FB page a couple months ago, because I was so.flipping.tired. of the rhetoric being thrown about. I’m still tired of it. I’m a big fan of people being able to be individuals. Of us having different opinions on things, different ideas of what’s right and wrong. It’s part of what makes us great, and helps us grow as a society.

I don’t want to be just like you.

I don’t want you to be just like me.

I want you to be you. I like me the way I am, and I like you the way you are! We don’t have to agree on everything for me to KNOW you’re a great person!

It’s OK for us to just be ourselves.

So, without further ado, my thoughts from earlier this year.

I've avoided saying much, but it's kind of a big deal, and I have opinions. Like everyone else, I'm afforded the right to share them.
I am not opposed to marriage equality.
I know lots of people who are, and for the most part, we are all respectfully agreeing to disagree. I'm cool with that.
I do NOT, in any way, support hate or intolerance of differing opinions. You don't like my opinion, that's cool, but don't attack me for it. In turn, I may not like or agree with your opinion, but I won't attack you for it.
You want to support a business because you agree with the publicly stated views of an executive, great! Please be respectful of others. You want to boycott a business because of those stated views, great! Please be respectful of others.
Our problem here is not marriage equality, gender equality, Republican, Democrat, Christian, Atheist, Pagan, blah blah blah. Our problem?
A complete and total lack of respect, both for others and for ourselves.
There's my two cents.

Cryptic Venting.

Big.. Deep… Breath…..

Sometimes, as parents, we have to step back and remind ourselves to do that every once in a while.

Heck, sometime as HUMANS we need to do that.

But tonight, I had to do it as a parent. Because sometimes, our kids do stupid things. They do stupid things and think that as parents we are to stupid to know that the child has done the stupid thing.

Sadly for said child, I’m not stupid, so said child was called out tonight on their stupid thing. Said child was reduced to tears as I demanded a sound explanation for their stupid thing. Because it is a stupid thing, there is no sound explanation, of course, but I needed said child to recognize that.

I also needed to not kill said child over stupid thing. I just needed them to learn from it.

Teaching moments… so valuable, but oh so stressful.

And hopefully?

There was learning.

I apologize for the general confusing text of this post. I’m trying, in some way, to protect said child from future embarrassment from their stupid move. As such, I won’t get specific, but I know I’m not the only parent who’s faced this sort of joy, so this probably makes sense to you. If it doesn’t yet, give it a few years, and try again. You’ll get it at some point. Promise.

Ten Years Ago

As I look back on it now, I can’t believe it’s been an entire decade.

So much has changed about him in those ten years. He’s gone from this sweet, chubby-faced little guy….

to this sharp-looking young man…

Oh, be still my heart.

To my sweet Eli -

Last year we celebrated your “magical birthday”, but this year? This year you have reached a milestone. Double Digits. My soul, I can’t believe it.

Your sweet spirit is unchanged – fiercely protective of those you love, kind and generous to a fault, humbly wise beyond your years. You are the great compromiser – always willing to give up what you want to allow others to have what they want, and yet firm when you know you’re in the right.

This past year put decisions into your hands, decisions that could impact your whole future, and you approached them wisely. You sought council, evaluated options, and reached a decision that you were comfortable in. Not once have you looked back and wondered if you were right with what you chose, and I’m so proud of you for it.

You swell my heart, sweet boy. You fill me with joy. You are free with your hugs, even when the bus has pulled up and your friends are watching.

Thank you for being you. Please, hang on to that – for you? You are wonderful.

 

Hang on to that, too. I’m pretty sure if you fall off we’ll have to have stitches.

I’ll love you forever,

I’ll like you for always.

As long as I’m living,

My baby you’ll be.

Love,

Mommy

Taking Back My House

Despite my deepest wishes, I do NOT have a million dollars. As a direct result, I am unlikely to get a housekeeper anytime soon.

I do, however, have three perfectly capable children.

What I don’t have is a good system. I have floundered and fumbled my way through trying to work out a rhythm, and I just tend to end up frustrated.

I also have an X-Box that my aforementioned children are driving me nuts over. It becomes a battle and a half every day to make sure they do SOMETHING useful before they play. Once we’ve hit a point where they get to play, then we’re going to argue about how LONG they get to play.

I’m sure this is not just my house. (I hope. Please, tell me it’s not just my house. Even if you have to lie, dang it, tell me it’s not just my house.)

So, I spent half the day today playing around on Pinterest, where I found some cool chore charts. And I downloaded printables. I read instructions. And finally? I decided that none of what I was finding was really going to work for me.

We have some “static” chores – the everyday things that the kids need to do. Then we have some household chores that I’m more relaxed about – they need to be done, but I don’t care who does them.

So? They’re worth points. And the points can be exchanged for playing time. The kids have to do the “static” chores to earn any points, but once those are done, nothing is holding them back! Each point is worth 10 minutes of playing time, and some chores are worth more points than others. Easy chores, like dust off the TV, those are 1 point chores. Wiping down the bathroom sink is 2 points, sweeping the floor is 3 points.

We’re going to see how this goes, but to get things started, here are a couple of quick photos of what I put together :

Keep your fingers crossed that this works! If When it does, I’ll give you more details on how I put my chore system together!

If we had a million dollars….

I’ve had a song running through my head all morning..

Barenaked Ladies “If I had a Million Dollars”, to be exact.

Because, well, I have been thinking about the “extravagant” things I would like to have.

Like a housekeeper.

Who could come in after the professional organizer made crap in my house make sense.

Oh, and after the designer came (after the organizer, of course) and made the house pretty.

The housekeeper then could, well, KEEP it that way.

What would YOU do if you had a million dollars?

Tag-Team Crazy

Remember when I was telling you about needing a straight jacket?

I’m sitting in my office, having just played with the online classes orientation process, while downloading files I need to handle the primary fundraiser at school, and answering periodic phone calls for the actual job thing.

I just sat back for a second, blinking. (For one thing, my contact lenses are dried to my eyeballs, and if I didn’t blink soon, they were never going to come back out.)

What I didn’t know yet, when I decided to go ahead and take 3 classes this fall, was that my husband was pretty intent on being more involved in the PTO. The one that I’m treasurer of. The one that didn’t have a president. At least, not until he volunteered. And meant it.

I’m both excited and nervous at this point – for one thing, I think getting more dads involved in the PTO is great- I hope we’ll find that with this guy tackling stuff, along with the already super-involved dad that we talked in to being the VP, we’re going to find more and more dads participating. If nothing else, I hope that seeing these guys take a lead role will be great for some kids who maybe don’t have a great father figure in their lives.

The nervous? That’s a LOT of pressure in our household. There are a ton of PTO projects that rely on some serious organization, planning, participation… There are a number of other really great people who I know will be there to help pull it all together, but between the two of us, that is a lot of responsibility. And I’ve made it very clear to him – I can’t do both roles. He wants to step up and do this, great! But he has to do it. I can’t be everything I need to be, plus be him too.

So, welcome to a year of crazy. A year of trying new things, expanding horizons, and praying for sanity. Because I keep looking at my piles and hoping that sanity can find me somewhere buried in them!

Are you involved in your school’s PTO/PTA? Do you make it a family affair?

Anyone have a Straight Jacket I can Borrow?

I may have pushed myself in to a new level of crazy.

It’s back to school time, which means back to PTO stuff time. I’m also going to be leading tax school students for work, heading out for convention next month, and taking some time off with my husband to work on some things around the house that desperately need done.

So, it makes total sense to go back to school myself, right?

That’s what I thought too.

I’m going to meet with an advisor for the first time on Tuesday, but I’ve completed my FAFSA, applied, been accepted, and have taken my initial placement exams.

I know it’s the right thing to do, and the time really isn’t going to get much better than now. The kids are all old enough to understand when I have to deal with homework, papers and exams. The husband is already super-dad, accustomed to taking it all on during tax season, and is our primary cook all year. My boss is totally on board, and super supportive.

I know I can do this – I can successfully balance work, home, PTO and school of my own. I’m sure it will have it’s rough points, but life always does. But honestly? I’m nervous. I haven’t taken an actual class in 15 years. I’m pretty used to running the show, so being the student may not come very easily.

Oh, and the first sentence of that last paragraph? The one where I’m confident I can balance it all? Was I convincing to you? Because I’m still trying to convince me.