Circle up ya'll it's story time!

    What seems like eons ago I taught Pre-School. It was one of the best, most life changing, self discovering times in my whole life. The best way to get to know who you really are and where you want to be in life, is to continuously get unsolicited advice and correction from a group of 4 year olds. I really mean that. I had some extremely good teachers alongside me in the role of guiding these tiny people and governing their days, Sending them off into public school with high hopes they stay kind and unique and amazing. One of the best groups of grown ups I have worked with and it felt more like a club. It's a harder job than I knew before living it.

   I miss it from time to time when I remember the fantastic things that happened. Last night I had one of those dreams where you relive an event accurately like it happened right then. With no strange additions or subtractions. Just a memory. I woke up so happy and had to blog it.

  There was a boy with the most perfectly round charlie brown head and a slight lisp. I won't post his name because you just never know (and also this is embarrassing stuff). This boy was a character and a half and I could usually count on him for the levity in my day when he was there. And when he wasn't there I missed him. You could say he was a favorite. I know I shouldn't have had favorites blah blah blah. Every teacher has them or they aren't human. It's just something you smile about later in life. Those are the children that a teacher hopes to someday have children like. I had several different ones I dreamed of having a perfect son made of. If that makes any sense. Anyhow, this particular kid left me speechless with his natural comic ability daily. And the joy of actual joys was that his mother was a kind saintly sweet lady that I could take aside at pick up time and tell her the funny of the day. And she would smile and cringe and sigh all at once. I looked forward to that expected and predictable reaction. She knew her son well and knew how much joy his antics brought me. We had just about the best teacher parent bond ever. Because she appreciated his spirit fully.

 Our class curriculum included drawing assignments for the letter we were studying. This boy had a love for building and jumping and playing. Not for drawing. He was clever and came up with what he thought to be a brilliant solution to his "have to get work done before I can go back to building towers" problem. He drew a nut. A single nut. For every flippin letter for a few weeks until I sat down and told him he HAD to be more creative. "This" pointing at his B drawing "is a brown nut". It was in fact a brown nut. But so were the other drawings. "But this" points at the S drawing " is a small nut. He was not wrong, it was smaller than the other ones. I was dying on the inside because his logic and defense were solid and his face so damn serious. Not a con. Totally legit. He agreed to drawing something else for his next letter assignment ( probably so he could get away from me as I was clearly wasting his outside time with talking) and I went on with my day. A week or so later we have the letter N on our board and I died. After a brown nut, a small nut, a round nut, and a large nut I felt like the stars had aligned for N to be one he had to get with the program on.

  He drew and drew and drew. Thoughtfully and with purpose. And when he handed in his art it was not colored in but just a simple pencil drawn man. But what? You ask. Man doesn't start with N. That's what I said as he hustled toward the back door putting his jacket on for playground time. And he completely innocently shouts over his shoulder as goes "Nope. It's a naked man".

( name has been blocked out for privacy but man I love the little kid handwriting I had to hide)

 It sure was.



  You bet your ass I saved this all those years!!! His mom and I had the most ruckus laughter filled talk that afternoon and she insisted I keep it but could I please make her a photocopy for his baby book. I have hung on to this folded up crudely drawn letter N drawing and pinned it near my work station at every job I have had since. Folded closed as not to offend anyone. But right there nearby all the time. So when I had a horrid day in a collections call center I would just see the purple paper ( yep, purple. I don't even know why but I love it) and smile to myself. I have this pinned next to my work bench in the garage now and it serves the same purpose it always has.


  Hands down the very best thing I still have from my teaching days. I constantly wonder how all my students are doing now and sometimes I am lucky enough to creep one or two out when the see me pick up my girl (crazy life gave me a stepkid the same age) because they remember me kinda sorta. I think this little guy moved far away but I have no doubt he is somebody wonderful. Though if I remember correctly, he reverted back to the nut drawing solution in our Private Kindergarten program the very next year.













 I have a couple more favorite kiddos I want to write about but need the okay from their mommas. But it's worth the wait and I think they will say yes because they want to relive the good times too.



You are welcome.

birds are not recyclable

What a morning. Chaos is constant at our bustling family dwelling. But some days are more confusing than others. Especially when I have made the decision to give myself a perfect storm of a hangover. Why? because damnit, I am a glutton for punishment. While enjoying a beautiful Riesling with my spouse last night I did not eat enough to cushion my indulgence. Thus creating a clouded head that made everyone sound like the teacher from Charlie Brown. Normally I ease into my routine of bottling the baby, making coffee, ignoring my husbands alarm being snoozed (again) and bringing down Dads a.m. medications. It's a smooth ballet I can often do half asleep. Not today. The baby crying came on like an air raid siren and Dad needed someone, anyone, everyone to hurry to the store asap for emergency milk and other stupid items that do not constitute an emergency in my book. Last time I checked there was no such thing as a life or death dairy situation that had ever made the 6 o'clock news.

I am a stumbelina with a headache that I cannot blame on anyone but myself. And I am staring at 7 oz of warm water trying to understand the formula of formula. I am lost in my head cloud and frazzled. Thankfully my super brother glides up the stairs fully clothed and head shaking. He overhead my baffled conversation with Pops about urgent store needs and came to my aid. Which was really nice because I was no way in Hades waking him up at 8 am for that crap. That would be rude. What a saint. I give him a card and send him on his way. Godspeed!!

Somewhere in the madness my hubs silently slips out the door to work and everything seemed calm for a second. Pretty short lived though and before I had two gulps of coffee down the baby was wailing and Adam was back home. On his way in he mentioned seeing a dead bird on the front walkway which apparently Pops needed to investigate because before I knew it all three of us were outside. I surrendered to the logical need for more coffee as Dad proceeds to tell me not to use his debit card to pick up dead birds. It would "goop it up" and I "should just use his drivers license" and he started inside to get it. What the?!? I live in the twilight zone.

I went inside to get some junk mail which is really the best scooper of anything disposable and we all know it. Debit card? Really? Weirdo. I have to laugh at that stuff because it's just the hiccup in communicating with a guy that tunes in and out whenever. It can be really fun when my head isn't splitting in half. And that is why I do not tie one on like I used to. I just watched a show about Moms who day drink ( I will admit that I used to be part of the Day Drinking League of Champions in my twenties. Yes it's a real club). To get through the depression of being a stay at home Mom instead of a career woman, they start out the day with wine instead of a latte on this show. I could never hang with that crowd. Clearly night drinking to relax is even a bit much for my wussie self. I only got through part of the episode because the talk of Merlot was making me thirsty.

Crazy how everything happens in a short span of moments and when the dust clears not a soul is around and all is quiet. Because now, the baby is out cold after throwing a huge tantrum and being fed another 4 oz ( I don't know how the heck he eats so much but he swears he is going to starve to death) Dad is napping downstairs and Adam is done running around ASAP for lactose.

And I just put the dead bird in the recycling on accident. Damnit. I am not getting in there to correct it. R.I.P. I need more coffee.