The New Year

I know you guys may have been wondering whether or not I had died, seeing as how I can't seem to get my act together to put down a few sentences on my blog lately.  I have all sorts of reasons as to why my writing stream seems to have dried up to a trickle, but I'm not going to bore you with it, or try to justify anything.  Let's just suffice to say that I resolve to do better in the New Year, and I hope that my kids and their schedules will agree with that resolution.  ;)

The New Year's party settings and guests, Birdie (L), Hubby, and Princess (R)

Me in my styling 2013
party glasses decorated by Birdie

The Kitty Ball

On New Year's Day, just before noon, Princess surprised our family with a New Year's party.  The party was a spur of the moment event, but P had put some time (20 minutes, at least!) and effort into putting together her shindig.   She made refreshments "from scratch", which consisted of Toaster Strudels and Capri Sun juice pouches.  Her party also had "formal" table settings (which means fancy stacked dishes and cups, and folded napkins), name cards, and party favors, which P commissioned Birdie to make.  To make the party complete, Princess made a New Year's Resolution game called "Pass the Kitty Ball", where we passed around a stuffed kitty toy and confessed our resolutions to the family.  When Princess was holding the Kitty Ball, do you know what that child resolved to do in 2013?!  Very solemnly she vowed,
"I will try to improve my kindness to others."

*cue sound of screeching brakes here*  Whoa!  What kid makes that their New Year's resolution?!!!  We-ellllll... If you knew the whole story...

Birdie and "The Talk"

Safety Birdie-- the kid that keeps on amazing me!

Last night, just before bed, Birdie sprung a question on me that I wasn't expecting to hear for quite some time.  I don't know why it surprised me.  Nothing should surprise me anymore, and it usually doesn't.  My girls have proven time and time again that, if nothing else, they are precocious.  I guess my surprise was just a result of not feeling confident that I would handle the topic with the right finesse.

But I'm getting ahead of myself... let me set the stage for you a little.  For the last couple of weeks, Birdie has been bouncing around the idea of starting her own blog.  So cool, right?!  One of my fellow blogger friends, Perry Morgan, suggested several months ago that Birdie might enjoy blogging, but I was hesitant to mention it to her.  Then out of the blue, Birdie asked if I would help her make a blog!  (Sorry, Perry-- you were so right, dude!)  She wants to blog about her fantasy world she calls "The Dimension" and all of the magical creatures that live there. She plans to provide illustrations, as well as an "English to Dimension language dictionary".  I think it sounds like a fabulous creative outlet for her.  She also very politely pointed out that I could list her blog on my blogroll "so that other people could find her on the internet and enjoy her imagination."  Ha-- I love that kid!  I assured her that if she made a blog, she would be at the top of my list.  :)

So, back to the question that left me feeling unprepared...

Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes

We've got a whole lot of change going on here at the Crazy Train in the next couple of weeks.  I know you've heard the whole "change is good" nonsense that people like to spew about.  Hell, even I make this comment from time to time!  But I don't usually say this in reference to me and mine.  At my house, change is most decidedly B. A. D.  Change isn't what makes the world go 'round-- it's what brings the world to a screeching halt for my Crazies.  Change makes Princess and Birdie grumpy and tearful, and makes mama want to hide in the closet with ice cream or wine!  Somehow, Hubby tends to score more hours at the office during times of change, and therefore misses out on most of the excitement.  I'm thinking this is not a coincidence.  Regardless, you get the point-- change and I aren't on good terms.  At least not most of the time.  Change does have it's moments-- just not very often!

(not my photo)

I Am in Hate with NatGeo

Those that know me are well aware of my addiction to science information.  I love science factoids.  I love learning new science concepts and figuring out the way the things in our world interact with each other.  My innate geekiness is one of the reasons I chose to study chemistry in college.  My love of boring others with this geeky info is one of the main reasons I chose to study education in college.  The thought of having a captive audience classroom was just too much to pass up.

As a mom, I have the wonderful opportunity to share my interest in science with my daughters every day.  My girls are already naturally curious about the way things work, and I try to continually renew their interest in science-y things whenever I can. (A trip to a museum, an aquarium, a zoo, a park to go geocaching, or even a visit to the library's non-fiction section are fun science excursions.)  So, I am sure it comes as no surprise that my kids have subscriptions to Ranger Rick and National Geographic Kids magazines.  They are, most surely, two of the best kids' science magazines available.  And like good little geek-ettes, they love their science, too, which makes mama very proud.

Many moons ago, I subscribed to National Geographic-- the grown-up version.  For years I would get the bright yellow magazines in my mailbox every month and I absolutely couldn't wait to get them into the house so I could devour them.  I would find myself removing the plastic bag they are mailed in as I walked back up my driveway toward the house.  The articles were always captivating and the beauty of the photos was unrivaled by any other publication in existence-- I was in fully-geeked-out heaven with the turn of every page.  Aaaaahhhh.

About six months into my pregnancy with Princess and Birdie, however, I found that my lovely yellow magazines weren't getting the attention and adoration they deserved.  I had a stack of four NatGeos on my coffee table, and at least one of them was still in the plastic bag.  If I didn't have time to read my science mags before my bundles of joy even arrived, chances weren't in my favor that I would have time once I had two new bottoms to powder and mouths to feed.  In light of this revelation, I let my subscription to scientific and cultural heaven expire.

But those NatGeo marketing folks are no dummies.  Of course, a household buying the National Geographic Kids magazine is likely to buy the grown-up version of the magazine too... especially if you offer the magazine at a ridiculously low $1.25/mo.  *Hallelujah choirs*  For $15/yr, I could have my beautiful science fix every month again.  How could I say no to that?!  This would be AWE-SOME!

...or so I thought at first.  Now I'm not so sure.  Now I am pretty sure I hate my favorite magazine.

The Student Teacher

Late last week, after the final bell had rung for the day at school, Birdie found me chatting with a couple of teachers in the hall.  Birdie butted in joined the conversation and instantly began wowing Ms. H-- a third grade teacher-- with her random bits of knowledge.  Off the cuff, Ms. H said to Birdie "you should just come teach my class for me, you're so smart!  I could really use a day off."  Birdie hardly reacted at all-- she actually looked quite flummoxed by the notion of teaching third grade-- and then she moved on.  It seemed that she had dismissed the whole interaction for the haha that it had been.  My only concern was that Ms. H might not have realized Birdie really does have a sense of humor, but she might not have understood the situation.

And then the whole thing was out of my head, gone and done...

Oh yeah!  I'm gon-na be a teeea-cher!  Gon-na teach some thirrrrrd grade!

...until last night, that is.

The Genius Kid

Not my image-- obviously

As I have mentioned before, I work as a substitute teacher at my daughters' school.  This morning, I had the extreme pleasure of spending some time in one of our school's second grade classrooms.  My daughters are in second grade, and although I wasn't in class with either of them, several of the students I was with recognized me as Princess and Birdie's mom.  This started a small tangential discussion with the students.  During our little tangent, one boy, whom I did not recognize as ever having been a classmate of my girls before, noticed the picture of my family I keep in my school ID badge.  "Those are your kids?  Hey!  You're the mom of that genius kid?!  (He was pointing at Birdie's photo when he said this.)  Wow!"  His tone indicated something between awe and incredulity.

Bullies: Inherently Mean or Morally Uneducated?

Stop Bullying Logo I found

bullyingpresent participle of bul·ly

Verb:

Use superior strength or influence to intimidate (someone), typically to force him or her to do what one wants.

I wish I knew what makes mean kids tick.

What about the make up of a human being makes some kids overpower the weak or fragile?  Why do the tears and fears of a weaker child make some feel kids more powerful or superior?  Is this survival of the fittest gone terribly wrong?  Is it learned behavior or human nature?

Jack the Ripper (Among Other Things) Makes My Neighbors Nervous

Birdie exploring the yard

My family has lived in our current house for nearly five years now, and it has been just recently that the neighborhood kids have really started to "get" my girls.  I know this comes as a shock to you, but Princess and Birdie aren't exactly-- how should I put it?-- "down with" kids their age.  They are reeeee-ally not into most of the outdoor games their peers like to play, either.  (You know, like tag, or riding bikes, or soccer-- just about anything requiring physical contact or eye contact.)  THAT is a problem.  When you are seven and you don't usually like playing seven year-olds' games with seven year-olds, making and keeping friends can be challenging-- to put it mildly.  But my kids and my neighbors' kids keep trying, so there is still hope.

The way my kids play-- or don't play-- with other children makes everyone else in the 'hood nervous.  With Princess and Birdie, you can count on lots of scowling and shouting and very little sharing and sportsmanship...  Unless, of course, by sportsmanship, you mean that they are going to win.  Then there is lots of sportsmanship-- right up until it becomes unsportsmanlike gloating.

Gettin' Gussied Up

As a child, if I strayed from my usual uniform of pants and a t-shirt, my parents would ask me "whatcha gettin' all gussied up for?!"  Trying something new in the wardrobe department prompted this conversation EVERY TIME.  I would look at my clothes and wonder if being gussied up was a good thing or not-- the tone of the question made me suspicious that my clothes "weren't right."  I heard no malice in their words, just an implication that I didn't make the same selection from my closet that they would have.  I would proceed to be self-conscious about my fashion choice.  I don't know if it was their intention or not, but this recurring conversation quashed my interest in "gussying up" for a very, very long time.  I still hear that question bouncing around in my brain every time I put on heels or have to dress up for a special occasion.