Life Long Learning

  The school bell doth toll...this time for ME!  Yep, 45 years old and I'm a backpack toting, Psych 101 studying, note taking, BONAFIDE student.

    Admittedly, this is not the first time I have answered the call of the "bell."  My first college experience was while I was in the Navy, stationed in Spain.  I added English and Ethics courses to my regular duties as a "Squid" overseas.  Not a bad way to break the scholastic ice.  The next time I headed back to school was sheerly for knowledge itself.  I was on a spiritual quest and wanted to know WHY I believed WHAT I believed.  So, off to the Franciscan University of Steubenville I went, with a course load of theology, sociology, and even an acting class (SO much fun!).  I then took time off to apply some of this knowledge in a practical way.
 
   A few years passed before I heard the Diiing...Dooong...ringing a beckon to further knowledge.  I answered with, "Yes please, I'll have a course of Public Speaking with a side order of Principles of Management."  By this time I had a little one to chase around so this was a whole new ball game figuring out how to manage time.  I decided the timing wasn't right to go for my undergrad degree.  However, that was not to be my last attempt. I eventually tried going back when I was the mother of four children.  That trial period lasted one semester of four classes.  Clarity struck when one of my children was standing a mere foot away repeating, "Mommy, Mommy, Mama, Mom..." in an effort to gain my attention. I was bleary-

eyed from staying up til 3:30 A.M., hunched over my keyboard searching for the perfect ending to a history essay assignment when a flashback struck like a lightning bolt. The flashback was a vision of what kind of Mommy I had always thought I'd be and it was in stark contrast with my then current abilities as wife and mother of four kiddos aged six and under, attempting a full time course load.  Aaand...I was expecting again.  That semester was a defining moment, teaching me to "let it go."

  Here I am, 13 years later, not regretting a single moment my choice allowed me.  In fact I'm grateful I had the opportunity to be present to my family, give myself fully to my loves, and live life in the moment.  Though I am far from not being needed as "Mom" (may that never be the case!), the pealing bell summons again.  This time, it's a family affair.

My 6 year old finds neurons interesting...sort of

  My youngest of seven is in first grade and she fakes interest while I describe how the synaptic vessels deliver neurotransmitters.  My seventh grader is willing to discuss the topic of "fake news" with me since we are both currently covering this matter in our respective classrooms, and my tenth grader has volunteered to tutor me in Algebra if need be.  Trust me...if I have to take any math class, the need will definitely BE.


 My husband takes my breath away with his support.  He works hard to help me carve out the necessary time for homework yet balances me with an invite to tuck the younger kids in and say their prayers.  My teens still burst in or quietly wander through the office door and flop in my easy chair to ask questions, share their highs and lows of the day, or willingly be subjected to the latest chapter on Human Behavior.  I never took down the chin-up bar from when my eldest occupied this room so I have a pretty constant call to watch daring feats of strength while I'm memorizing definitions.

60s means heat wave in Erie

  I've learned the way for me to achieve balance is to include my family in my studies and insert my studies where my family is.  This weekend the beautiful weather whispered, well, more like shouted
our names with temperatures in the 60s.  We couldn't let that call go unanswered, so off to the park we went.  I read from the text book while my youngest played on the jungle gym and her older brothers shot hoops.  When she tired of climbing, she asked for a push on the swing.  I readily complied then jumped on the open swing next to her and pumped my legs til my feet touched the sky. We giggled like crazy as butterflies filled our bellies.

  Maybe I needed to be taught more from the school called LIFE before the "school bell" called me back.  I find myself relating what I learn in the classroom to moments I've lived through and I'm grateful for the opportunity to have a deep well of experience to draw from.  Feels like the timing's right.  We shall see.  Diiiing...Doooong.



Tattoo Trials

What does one say to a teary-eyed kindergartner regretting her tattoo?  "It's ok honey, metallic silver goes with everything."  Maybe I could have told her it brings her eyes out.  I didn't chime in with either of those responses.  I looked at her shiny, patterned neckband and listened to her woes about how the kids in class all want to stare at it.  I watched her body language as her little hands pulled the neck of her shirt up to her watering eyeballs.  I listened to her muffled cries about how she never should have let her older sister do this to her.  I heard about the Halloween candy bribing to allow the tattoo placement on the day I was at Parent-Teacher Conferences (I should have known! Yet ANOTHER reason I should have trembled before this event *See post titled Parent-Teacher Conferences).  I didn't say much because there were moments that she was completely oblivious to it's existence and others where she was gleefully showing it off to Daddy.

  All of today's mournful moaning was happening five minutes before we were to leave for the bus stop.  I had witnessed my young daughter's distress yesterday afternoon as well.  She wasn't off the bus more than three minutes before the day's drama over this prominent emblem came spilling out.  This is why I encouraged a good tub soaking last night...well, besides the dirty feet and knees from chasing her brothers and their friends while playing football.  There may have been a few hundred tiny bits of crushed leaves in her hair from her leaf pile escapades as well...this is one energetic, hardy girl.  Either way, I was surprised to see the tinny-looking, lace design encircling her neck was still very much intact this morning despite a good washing.  I admit I wasn't that concerned about the placement on Monday because I thought it would be rubbed off by Tuesday afternoon at the latest.  I had no idea these metallic tattoos that line every Super-Center store's shelves weren't as lame as the Valentine tats that are peeled half off before it's pressed flat on a forearm. 

 I sympathized with my little one this morning as she wept and told me about how the kids all gathered around yesterday to look.  I got out the baby soap and washcloth as she cried and began to rub.  When that didn't bring any change I went for the big guns: baking soda.  I hid my horror at the redness that was only making the silvery swirls appear to glow.  Great...one minute left.  "Don't worry Hon, we'll for sure get it off tonight. Time to go.  I'll grab your book bag, you get a sweatshirt."  My son and I headed out onto the porch and down the steps as she came running out.  Air sucked in through my teeth didn't really hide my surprise at her choice of her purple with pink fur trimmed, heavy winter coat zipped up to her chin. It's uncharacteristically warm out...like 72  degrees, but I knew what she was trying to camouflage.  Bus was coming and I knew I'd have a melt-down on my hands so I sent her off with a kiss and encouraging smile.

It's hours later and I've pondered one question all morning.  "Why didn't I ask her if SHE LIKED the tattoo?!?"  

  So what if the kids were looking?  They probably went home and asked to run to the store to get one and a gold version too.  It's not against the school policy to sport a fake tattoo and I could have encouraged her to rock this look (until we use the baby oil my neighbor, and veteran mother of three girls assured me would take this off...I kid you not, it's like tinfoil applied with superglue).  My young daughter IS an energetic, hardy, strong and spirited spit-fire!  If she can play football with boys six years her senior she can pull off a shiny tattoo- without fear of what others think. 

  Life is full of lessons.  Learning to listen to your own instinct about what you personally like and dislike is a hard lesson to learn.  I'm on my own journey with this very topic.  Why not give my daughter a head start now?  Clearly, I'm not a perfect Mom- but I can admit when I'm wrong.  We can learn together.  I can't wait to go greet her and hear about her day- and hopefully I'll see that winter coat shoved way down in the bottom of her bag. 

 

Parent Teacher Conferences

 Today and tomorrow bring about the two-day festive holiday known as "Parent Teacher Conferences," in our house.  Now, to some parents, this holiday might strike fear in the deep recesses of their hearts.  I have had enough experience over the years to know that the best way to prepare for this party is to take a deep breath, crack my knuckles, partake in a few neck rolls, and shake out the tension.  It is important to stand before a mirror and practice which grin looks the least forced under a sheen of sweat that dots the upper lip.  Perhaps the most important tip I can offer in preparation of this particular feast is the chant used to lull myself to sleep on Conference eve.  It is fairly simple, yet acutely imperative and bears repeating a thousand times.  It goes like this, "Bring It On, Bring It On, Hit me with your best shot and Bring It On."  I believe the counting sheep show compassion as they as they blend beautiful harmonies and perhaps empathy earned from a few lackadaisical lambs.

  I am jesting, sort of...not really, but mostly.

  Within our beautiful crew of seven children we have plenty of personality, an assortment of learning aptitudes, a diverse approach to diligence, and everything in between.  This is in regards to the book work.  Let us direct our attention to the portion that covers...behaviors.  Or perhaps...NOT.  I'd rather let your imagination cover this ground.  Conduct varies by disposition and of course, age certainly plays a factor.  Yet, it is never a given as to which age brings about the most interesting teacher encounters.

  I will let your imagination join our school soiree as I offer a morsel for you to digest.  Let's just say we thought we had seen it all by the time our youngest entered her scholastic career.  Such was not the case.  I didn't even know a pre-school Parent-Teacher Conference could last an hour... and contain such a conundrum of concern and comic relief.  I truly appreciate the teachers who are down to earth and are willing to tell tales of what my children have done while honing the art of presenting with a flourish of humor and positive word choices.  Apparently my youngest is spirited, not sassy.  She has strong leadership skills and has escaped being bossy.  She is exceptionally bright...I may have added the exceptionally- because she is, of course.  She is hilarious, even when she doesn't intend to be so.  However, this could be construed as honesty without filter.  Again, gratitude comes to mind when offered humor in uncomfortable situations.  My daughter once informed me it is possible to have a "Food Baby."  What do you mean, Honey?  "Well, Ms. So-and-so told me it wasn't a real baby in her belly it was a food baby."  My hands flew to my mouth and covered the intake of GASP when I realized what my sweet angel must have asked that morning.  Clearly we didn't cross that line of discussion when we met...yet that shindig still held 60 full minutes of...conferencing.  Siiiiigh.

  This year's Season witnessed my mature head nods and understanding "Mmm-hmmm's," while my spirit screamed, "You can't break me!"  I used to attempt explanations for what I felt judged upon.  I've learned that served no purpose in helping my child's progress.  With age comes wisdom of the sort that can't be learned in the text-books.  The school of hard-knocks, while difficult to live through and even more torturous to witness our children in does serve a purpose.  Every year I fill in the blanks of what I want the teacher to learn about my child with prose subtly suggesting their spirit not be crushed.   I must also respect the fact my child needs to learn to work within a group.  This skill can enhance their individuality so that others will want to follow them when the time is right.  Our greatest strengths may originally emerge as our greatest weakness.  It takes a wise mentor to recognize character and raw talent and know that a student must understand the end goal and be willing to work together for goal attainment.  These are not easy tasks...I know because I am a mother  invested in helping achieve this very goal.  I treasure these opportunities to work together with teachers I see as partners in this mission.

  I can tease about the tough times and roll with the reality of imperfections.  Yet, I will agree to check the on-line student accounts to ensure proper quiz preps, visit our library to borrow FUN reading material, ground my son...I mean move his clothespin to stop, if he doesn't read to his sister, banish friends until geography skills are improved, implement a structured, yet whimsical learning environment where all will thrive as they broaden their brain activity.  I will also broaden my shopping list with the addition of an aluminum cookie sheet, plastic lower-case magnetic letters, shaving cream for spelling activities, cleaner to remove shaving cream from my bathtub walls and perhaps a bit of wine to celebrate another year's Conferencing conquest.