Choosing Joy

Today is my son's last day of school.  It should be tomorrow, but a doctor's appointment will take the place of his final class of his Senior year.

We have been scrambling to complete much needed home improvements in preparation for the big graduation day and the party that precedes it.  The idea of people descending upon our home for any large gathering typically throws me into a panic as we actually LIVE in our house.  We are not those home-dwellers who keep their house so immaculate that a realtor could come by and use it as an example of how to stage a house.  We live here. And living here means lots of messes - lots of hockey and lacrosse gear airing in the front room, games and books spilling out of shelves and the coffee table, dvds stacked three deep in the entertainment center, dog hair floating like tumbleweeds under the dining room table and embedding itself in carpet; fingerprints and doggie noseprints on windows, kitchen countertop always stacked with things that don't belong there, random things like a lone sock and a hammer or crossword puzzle books and a can of ceiling Spackle - we LIVE in this house.

So, frantically, for the last few weeks, I've been trying to make it look like we don't live here (with the exception of the basement: that has become the stacking ground for plastic bins full of stuff that will be sorted and sold in a near-future garage sale); like our house is just always clean and perfect - that WE are clean and perfect people.  But that's just it - we're not clean and perfect people.  We're messy.  We're a family of six individuals and two dogs living under one roof - always busy, always running, always going.  Life is messy.  But the attempt at control of this messy life has left me angry and stressed out and frankly losing my mind.  It all exploded in a frustrated rant last night after dinner when I was told that the stacks of old carpet would be disposed of another way than just putting them out with the trash.  My panic overtook my reason and I lost it.  My losing it is never quiet.  It is usually me yelling out all my frustration - whatever is bugging me the most right that second will pour out and spill onto whomever is closest or whomever seems to be the cause of the stress.  So after a loud fit, I stomped upstairs to my room, flipped on the final hour of The Voice and tried to chill.

Unfortunately, I woke up feeling the same overwhelming pressure and stress that I had fallen asleep with. So, I pulled out Ann Voskamp's "One Thousand Gifts" devotional and read:

What insanity compels me to shrivel up when there is joy's water to be had here?....I'm blind to joy's well every time I really don't want it.  The well is always there. And I choose not to see it...Why do I lunge for control instead of joy?...If I am rejecting the joy that is hidden somewhere deep in this moment, am I not ultimately rejecting God? Whenever I am blind to joy's well, isn't it because I don't believe in God's care? That God cares enough about me to always offer me joy's water, wherever I am, regardless of circumstance...In His presence is fullness of joy.  He is in this moment. ~Voskamp, p. 72

Why do I "lunge for control instead of joy"?  It isn't getting my tasks done more quickly. It isn't making the house not look lived in - it is making my family crazy and me crazy, so instead of having a "perfect house" it's an imperfect house with a crazy, ranting mama inside.   A crazy, ranting mama who is missing all these moments of joy because of worry over rolls of old carpet and mismatched (missing stain) kitchen cupboard doors.  Instead of relishing my time with my boy and my just-returned from college girl and my two glorious little girls, one who would be "graduating" from elementary school if she were in traditional public school this year (thankfully, she is not), I am freaking out.  And really, why?  The tables, chairs and soft-serve ice cream machine are all reserved and ready to be picked up the day before the party. There are some other food items that either need to be bought or made, but honestly, the main stuff is already resolved.  What is left is supposed to be fun: making a video celebrating my boy's life...filling planters and flower beds with riotous colored flowers...putting up the curtain in the garage and stringing photos of my boy...and finally, ultimately, the bringing together of people who have watched my boy grow from a wild lil Mite hockey player into a young man - celebrating his life and his accomplishments and his future.  Why am I freaking out?

So, if you come to my boy's party, please realize that instead of lunging for control, I was choosing joy.  Please disregard the cupboard doors without stain; please don't look behind the curtain in the garage, or judge us for the pieces of trampoline leaning on the backyard shed.  If it is raining, and we're all stuck inside the house, instead of noticing the dust bunnies, please admire the beautiful work my husband did to remodel our sunporch and ignore the couches' need to be cleaned.  Please enjoy the sundae bar and have fun chatting with friends and family and join me in choosing joy that day.

For more information re Ann Voskamp, go to http://www.aholyexperience.com/ 

Updated 5/20/15 8:47am

An Open Letter to the SWC 833 School Board

Dear Board Members,

We the people elected you to be our voices in the district.  We elected you to stand tall and strong for our kids and be good stewards of the taxes we pay to fund the schools.  We elected you to question, probe, research - whatever it takes for you to understand exactly what your employee, Superintendent Jacobus, and his (mostly due to resignations) brand new cabinet, are trying to convince you to approve.  You are the leaders of this situation.  As such, we the people expect you to do your due diligence when deciding on what should be included in $8 million in cuts from the budget. 

2015-2016 Recommended Budget Reductions and Potential Impacts  

We also expect you to ask why exactly our fund balance has dropped so drastically since Dr. Jacobus has been Superintendent - after all, it was he who introduced the "Budget Matrix" to the district,

"2014-2015 Service Level Matrix"

and eliminated the line item budget process - it was you (or your predecessors) who approved doing so.  We the people respectfully request the return of the line item budget as the Budget Matrix is confusing and difficult to read and understand.  It also muddles the numbers - grouping them together so that the real picture is like a Faux Monet: pretty from a distance but up close all muddled and confusing, only now, the picture isn't pretty no matter how far away one stands.

Furthermore, we the people request that the current budget cuts be scrapped and the process begin again - with the people, not just the administration - Dr. Jacobus, his Cabinet and school principals - involved and with using a line item budget so that every expense has a cost directly connected to it.  No more generalities.  Please show us EXACTLY how much is being spent on each item.  Dr. Jacobus and Mr. Kath have claimed that the Budget Matrix is great for the district because it removes emotion from the process.  We the people disagree: It removes the specifics and allows expenses to be hidden within the formulas.  True transparency would dictate that a line item budget be used for this process, not general amounts with no alternatives given.
We the people believe that schools should be fiscally responsible and good stewards of taxpayer money; however, we also believe that cutting Special Education, Reading Recovery, Elementary Band, Orchestra and World Language and also increasing class sizes are not good cuts; it would seem that those cuts were chosen to inflict the most pain on the people of the district to really demonstrate what "dire" straights the district leaders have put the district into. 

Board Members, please insist that Dr. Jacobus and his lean cabinet go back to the drawing board and rethink the proposed cuts.  Please stand up for the children of the district - that is your job - and insist that increasing class sizes is not an option, that cutting special ed and reading recovery are unacceptable and that band and orchestra are important and should not be the sacrificial lambs of these cuts.  Board Members, please do your jobs and research the options, ask for the line item budget and insist that the administration provide it to you if they want anything approved.  You have the power - you are the leaders of this situation - USE YOUR AUTHORITY and SPEAK UP FOR THE CHILDREN OF THE DISTRICT. 

Sincerely,

We The People

Community Members: click here to give the administration your feedback re: the budget cuts.

Call your Board Members:
School Board Contact Info:

Kath, Ron

School Board Chair

651-769-0291

rkath@sowashco.k12.mn.us

Schwartz, Katie

School Board Clerk

651-347-7656

kschwart5@sowashco.k12.mn.us

Johnson, Laurie

School Board Director

651-387-0427

ljohnson1@sowashco.k12.mn.us

McElwee-Stevens, Kathleen

School Board Director

651-459-5411

kmcelwee@sowashco.k12.mn.us

Witte, Michelle

School Board Director

651-402-3184

mwitte@sowashco.k12.mn.us

Van Leer, Sharon

School Board Treasurer

651-202-3848

svanleer@sowashco.k12.mn.us

Brunnette, Tracy

School Board Vice-Chair

651-321-8449

tbrunnet@sowashco.k12.mn.us

Updated 2/12/15 2:53pm

It's Cold, Kids, Time to Learn to "Dress for Winter Success!"

The video above is courtesy of South Washington County School District 833: apparently, parents who live in Minnesota (or any cold climate state) have NO IDEA how to dress their children for cold weather, so they must be informed by district employees through a professionally produced video on the correct order cold weather clothes should be put on.  Like parents can't figure out that boots should go on AFTER snowpants or that snowpants need to go on BEFORE a jacket - unless of course one is wearing non-bib-style snowpants, in which case the jacket can go on before the snowpants, but remember, boots go on AFTER the snowpants.
Seriously? Do they really believe parents are this dumb?  Apparently, yes.

How about instead of cutting elementary school band the district cut all meaningless video production?  Just a thought.

Let's "Talk About Issues," But Only If We Like What You Say

Recently, Kirk Burback (South Washington County School District 833 parent), attempted to make comments on the District 833 Vote Yes committee's campaign page on Facebook.  He posted two comments, the first one on the committee's assertion that the district isn't planning to spend taxpayer money on iPads (the district has already bought approximately 1100 iPads for five schools and all the district preschools, and plans for all 17,300+ students to have district-provided iPads is in the district's "T3" Plan, but that isn't the reason why the district NEEDS "Q2" to pass...), but on "boring stuff" like servers and switches and the like:

Nothing combative or attacking in these comments; just some good questions, right?  

Then Kirk left a comment on a second post by the Vote Yes committee:

Apparently, contrary to the assertion by the Vote Yes committee in the above post that they want to "talk about the issues," they only want to talk about issues with people who agree with them as demonstrated by the fact that Kirk's comments were deleted and he was blocked from the page:

So, do the Vote Yes committee leaders really want to "talk about issues"? Or do they want to talk about issues, but only if what is being said furthers their agenda of selling the community on why they need to give up more of their hard-earned money to the insatiable education machine?  What does this say about the Vote Yes people?  Many of the those on the Vote Yes committee serve on various district committees and are very friendly with the administration: if the Vote Yes people actively censor legitimate questions and comments from their Facebook page, does it show that they really want to "talk about issues"? And what does that say about the administration that is hoping that the Vote Yes committee succeeds in convincing the taxpayers to approve the levy and bond referendums on November 5?  Experience has shown that this administration is not fond of actually listening to the people, unless it is to discover what the community truly cares about and then doing the opposite (busing/walking distances, last year's budget cuts, iPads all come to mind...).  

 My mama always told me, "Show me your friends, and I'll show you who you are..."

Anti-Bullying Legislation, BBIRT "Bullying Behavior Incident Reporting Tool" & South Washington County School District 833

There has to be somebody, some agency and, ultimately, some person that is responsible.  We have to show schools we are serious about this. ~ Minnesota Governor Mark Dayton

Just as President Johnson vowed to eradicate poverty, Mark Dayton has vowed to eradicate bullying.   He means to do this through the work completed by the Anti-Bullying Task-Force, along with Anti-bullying legislation that was introduced in last year’s legislative session and will be re-introduced at the next one.

According to Walter Hudson and Katherine Kersten this anti-bullying legislation will institutionalize bullying by creating a new bureaucracy that all students, teachers, staff, parents and anyone serving in the education system, public or private, would have to answer to. 

It would create mandates that would divert resources away from academics, while also forcing teachers into the role of thought police by requiring them to remediate children’s undefined “inappropriate” behavior and belief systems. These behaviors will be reported in a climate report that will follow students for the rest of their lives.  Imagine, your child, who was accused of a bullying incident in the third grade, unable to follow their chosen career path because of this report. 

According to legislative testimony by Ms. Kersten, One of the bill’s most chilling aspects is that students who dissent from certain state-approved cultural/political attitudes—who maintain, for example, that children do best when they have a parent of both sexes, a mom and a dad—could potentially be referred to “counseling” by school authorities for failing to sufficiently “value diversity.” 

She went on to say that H.F. 826 would send a message to students—at least those who belong to so-called protected classes—that they have an absolute right not to have their feelings hurt or their ideas challenged; and that authorities will intervene if this occurs.

 

Furthermore, the state would compel the educational system to investigate every reported incident of bullying, including anonymous accusations, which withholds due process of law, where the accused is allowed to confront their accuser.  It would also permit students to harass one another by making unsubstantiated charges of misconduct without accountability.

It is ironic to note, that every school district has a written Code of Conduct that in no area allows any kind of bullying, harassment, intimidation, etc. that all students must abide by.   These locally controlled Codes of Conduct are developed and enforced by teachers, school administrators and our elected school board members.  Why would an additional layer of intrusive enforcement be required?  Is it because the schools are not properly enforcing their own policies or is it there something more nefarious going on?

Woodbury resident, Doug Ballinger was recently quoted in the Woodbury Bulletin saying that he was horribly bullied when he was growing up.  Looking at bullying today, he reports that “This is a problem that is not being fixed.”  Ballinger’s thought process leads him to believe that adequate progress has not been made in the eradication of bullying. He also believes that “Each one of us has a range of tolerance to certain things, so that tolerance could be something as thick as a tree branch…or it could be a piece of spaghetti...however, one thing that cannot be argued is how a person feels.”  

To do his part in “fixing this problem” he has helped to create the "Bully Behavior Incident Reporting Tool" ("BBIRT") app, which he eventually intends to have on all Minnesota students’ phones…surely he is doing this out of the kindness of his heart not from the depth of the school districts’ pockets, right?

Ballinger’s vision for the tool includes:

A timely, accessible, and accurate bullying incident report to relevant offices/agencies with oversight of such incidents – and maybe parents, too…

While providing the schools usable data and platform for ensuring the right supports are provided for both school bully victim and bully alike.

His goals for the app are to establish a safe environment where kids can learn and grow mentally and physically, while not having to deal with his definition of bullying as “social distractions” while also helping the “bullying” student learn to cope and eliminate bullying behavior.

Mr. Ballinger believes that his app will help eradicate bullying behavior.  However, it would seem that a long list of abuses could occur with this technology in the hands of teenagers or adults.  If there is no set definition of bullying but instead a reliance on the tolerance level of the supposed victim, the number of bullying behavior incident reports will skyrocket.  Furthermore, when the incident can be anonymously reported, intent is left to be determined by the victim and may not accurately reflect the situation in which the incidence occurred.  Also, the possibilities of students, teachers and administrators abusing this tool, either through intimidation – fear of being reported – or false reports are extremely high.  

This app also indoctrinates children into the idea of “reporting” on their fellow-classmates.  If there are no consequences for a false report, than who is to stop those reports from happening? Or eventually, reporting anyone who speaks against the overriding political/societal ideology of the time?  

Apparently, South Washington County District 833 thinks that this is a fantastic idea.  They have partnered with BBIRT to pilot this app with the ERHS freshmen this year. 

Incidentally, SWC833 schools is also asking for a levy referendum that among other things, asks for money for improvement/additional of mental health staff; improved safety and security in the schools along with improving technology in the district under their T3Initiative: Transforming Thinking Through Technology.  It would seem that the District 833administration is all on board with this latest anti-bullying, thought police technology and legislation.  Perhaps we should ask our current school board members how and why this app is being allowed in this school district?  We should also research to see if any of our erstwhile Representatives and Senators, who also sit on the Legislative Education committees, are in support of the intrusion into civil liberties that this technology and anti-bullying legislation represents. 

Celebrating Fathers

Father's Day is right around the corner.  With that in mind, I'd like to take a moment and get a little personal.

SwimGirl graduated from high school last weekend.  Because her dad lives several states away, we planned her graduation party for the day before the ceremony, so he could join in on the weekend's festivities.  The morning of the party, SwimGirl's dad, IT Guy, picked her up for breakfast.  My neighbor happened to be outside when IT Guy came by, and asked me if it was an awkward situation for us - having IT Guy here and involved with the festivities.  I didn't have to think long for my response, "No," I answered, "We've been divorced for many years.  At first it was hard: adjusting to sharing the kids, scheduling and getting past what drove us apart in the first place. But, fortunately, we figured out how to make it work." He was surprised by my answer, since his own personal experiences with family divorce has not been very positive.  I totally understand this as my own parents divorced when I was a young adult; we've all adjusted for the most part, but holidays can get a little stressful because of the family rifts.

It is because of our own experiences with divorced parents that has led IT Guy, The Man of the House and I to do our best to be flexible and accommodating with SwimGirl and TBone.  When parents divorce, the stress and pain is not felt only by the couple splitting up, but by the children as well.  When parents forget that the kids are also in pain and/or use their kids as pawns, it only creates more pain and havoc in an already potentially devastating period in the children's lives.  If one is unable to separate the reasons for the divorce from the kids, the kids are the ones who ultimately pay the price of the failure in the marriage.

Ironically, it was The Man of the House who taught me this fact.  He came into our lives when SwimGirl and TBone were still quite young, and tried very hard to let IT Guy know that he was there as a bonus parent, not as a person trying to take over IT Guy's job as "Dad." There were times, early on, when IT Guy and I were unable to communicate without animosity; it was during those times when the three of us would have to attend TBone's hockey games together and TMotH would stand between us, talking to both of us, but also providing a buffer - a sort of "No Man's Land" in human form.  Because he was willing to be that neutral person, IT Guy and I were able to present a civilized front to the children, something they desperately needed to see their parents do.  The kids also were able to see that even though IT Guy and I couldn't make it as a married couple, our love for them, our involvement in their activities, and our presence together in their lives would not change.  It takes a strong man to do what TMotH did for us and the kids.  He taught us how to get along by his example of being willing to not take sides and get along with both of us for the kids' sake.

There are those people who are quick to criticize those of us who have experienced failure in marriage; as though somehow that failure represents some kind of moral incapability or character deficit or an inability to understand the gravity of the marriage vows.  The sad thing is, that criticism is nothing compared to what a divorcee` feels or tells his/herself about their divorce.  No one can beat up a divorced person more than that person has already done to themselves.  For a person like myself, who detests failure so much that they will not even attempt something if failure is an option, divorce represents the ultimate failure and can take many years to understand what went wrong and how things could have been different.  No one can beat me up more than I have beaten myself up over the years because of this "failure." Self-righteous attitudes toward divorce is not what a person going through that experience needs; love and understanding goes much further and can help lead that person to healing and potentially the ability to start new - either with the first marriage or with someone else someday.

Back to fathers:  What I experienced this weekend was a good outcome from my own personal first marriage failure.  Where some kids only have one parent or both parents present to celebrate the achievement of their high school graduation, SwimGirl had three doting parents happy to cheer her accomplishment.  SwimGirl and TBone have benefited from having two parents AND two bonus parents in their lives.  Without TMotH, TBone would have probably never played hockey - TMotH is the one who originally bought him skates and took him out to the rink for the first time, marveling at TBone's balance and almost instantaneous acclimation to the feeling of blades on his feet.  Without TMotH, SwimGirl would not have had the opportunity to try different activities before finding that swimming was her talent and passion.  Without the support of IT Guy, the kids wouldn't have been able to continue those activities due to financial constraints.  Unlike many separated families, I cannot complain that IT Guy has not done well by his kids financially.  He's never been late, never missed a child support payment, has always made sure they had health insurance, and even when he moved hundreds of miles away, he always did his best to be part of his kids' lives.  Because of him, the kids have experienced things and visited places I would have never been able to show them.  Because of him, TBone has learned how to fix computers and be my own personal Techie here at home.  Because of him, SwimGirl had an early start with computers and will be taking that knowledge with her to college to pursue a degree either in graphic design or architecture.  Her passion for architecture was also nurtured by IT Guy and the trips he took the kids on - showing them cities and buildings that do not exist in the Midwest.

Recently, Kathleen Parker wrote a column titled "Say it. Go ahead, say it! 'Father'" in which she discusses the fact that even with more women becoming the sole breadwinner in the home, which is causing some people to question whether women need men at all, that we do indeed need fathers in the family unit.  Not only that, but that fathers should be celebrated.  I couldn't agree with Ms. Parker more.  In our home, TMotH is often away, building powerlines or restoring power after storms; leaving me as the sole caretaker of our four children.  I've learned to be very self-sufficient, accomplishing tasks that earlier in my life I'd have never known I could do on my own.  It is a humbling experience to be the single caregiver; I've had to learn to ask for help when my pride is screaming, "NO! I CAN do this on my own!" There have been times when the trials of raising teenagers become too much for one person to handle, so calling IT Guy and asking for his assistance has been necessary.  There has not been a time when I've called him and asked for his help in something where he hasn't shown sympathy for the situation - has stepped in and said, "Don't make me have to get on a plane and fly up there!" something for which I am eternally grateful.

No matter how self-sufficient we as women get, no matter all the technology and social safety nets we have to be able to raise children on our own, there will not be a time when children do not need a father-figure - their biological dad, a step-dad, a grandpa, uncle or even a great male friend - in their lives.  Girls learn what it means to be a woman by the way the male-figure in their lives treat them and the women around them, just as boys learn what it means to be a man from how their mothers and other women around them treat them.  Boys need men to teach them how to be men and how to treat the women in their lives just as girls need women to do the same for them.  Feminism should not be something that becomes women accomplishing goals to the exclusion of needing men in their lives; it should be a means of equal pay for equal work and an appreciation for the roles that both sexes play in society and in the family unit.

This weekend showed me that even though IT Guy and I failed at our marriage (something that occurred when we were both very young and had a lot of growing left to do, including finishing college and all the stress that comes with that while holding a household together and raising a young family), that the outcome did not have to be one of failure as well.  Even though we were unable to complete our journey together under the same roof, our children need not suffer adversely because of our inability to make things work between us.  The proof of that fact was evident on Saturday night when IT Guy, TMotH and I sat together, with friends and relatives, chatting like the old friends we now are, basking in the pride of our daughter's tremendous accomplishment: finishing high school and preparing to set off on her own life's adventure starting with a scholarship to a Division I school and ending wherever her talents and dreams can take her.

Updated 6/6/13 11:12am

Why Elephants Don’t Chew Gum

There once was a little elephant named “Ellie”.  Ellie was a very good little elephant who tried to always do what her mama told her.  But, Ellie was also a very curious little elephant, so she also asked her mama “why” a lot.  Sometimes, even after her mama answered her question in a very kind and patient way, Ellie still needed to find out the answer for herself.

One day, Mama called Ellie in from the yard:  “Ellie, come in please, we are going to the grocery store.”

“Why?” Ellie answered as she continued to push her baby elephant in a stroller around the yard.

“We need to buy yummy peanuts, hay and chocolate milk,” Mama answered as she gathered her coupons, grocery list and tucked them into her purse.

“Okay, Mama.” Ellie put her baby and stroller away, went into the house and picked up her little pink purse.

As Ellie and Mama strolled to the store, Ellie saw lots of things that made her curious.

“Why is that leopard wearing a yellow hat?” She asked.

“See the big brim? It keeps the sun out of her eyes,” Mama replied.

“Why do people ride in cars but we have to walk, Mama?”

“Because we are too big to ride in cars, Ellie.”

“Why is the sky blue? Why is the sun so bright? Why are some houses big and some houses little?”

Mama kindly and patiently answered each of Ellie’s questions so Ellie could learn about her world.

As they neared the grocery store, Ellie saw a little girl blowing a great big pink bubble-gum bubble.

“Oh, Mama! I want to blow great big pink bubbles, too!” Ellie cried as she watched the little girl’s bubble grow.

“No, Ellie, elephants don’t chew gum.”

“But why, Mama?  Why don’t elephants chew gum?” Ellie asked.  Mama’s mind was on the list she held in her trunk, so she didn’t answer Ellie.

“Mama,” Ellie said again, “Why don’t elephants chew gum?”  All the way to the store, Mama had kindly and patiently answered all of Ellie’s questions, but now she was feeling a little bit tired, so she said firmly, “Elephants DON’T chew gum, Ellie.”

“But, Mama, why?  Can I buy some gum? Please Mama?  I want to blow a big bubble, too!” Ellie whined.  Mama didn’t like it when Ellie sounded whiney.  Giving Ellie her “Mom Eyes” look, she said, “Absolutely not.  Elephants DON’T chew gum.” And then she walked into the store.

Ellie knew better than to ask any more questions after Mama had given her the “Mom Eyes”, but it didn’t stop her from pouting and walking very slowly behind Mama in the store.

Shuffling her big elephant feet, she followed Mama as they finally made it to the check-out.  Staring at the floor she thought “I wish I could have some gum.  I’d show Mama that elephants DO chew gum!”  Just then, Ellie saw a quarter lying on the floor right at the end of her trunk.

Quickly, Ellie glanced up at Mama and saw that she was busy chatting with the Rhino in the check-out next to her.  Slowly, Ellie reached her trunk out and picked the quarter up.  Then she edged past Mama and scooted toward the gumball and mini-toy machines at the end of the check-out aisles.

“Ellie, where are you going?” Mama asked her as Ellie slipped past.

“I just want to look at the toys, Mama,“ Ellie lied.  She knew she shouldn’t lie, but she had to buy a gumball!  Quickly, Ellie slipped the quarter into the gumball machine and turned the knob.  A big blue gumball popped out.  Ellie snatched the gumball and quickly tucked it into her little purse, just as Mama said, “Come on, Ellie, time to go.”

All the way home, Ellie thought about the big blue gumball hidden in her purse.  She knew Mama would be sad that Ellie had disobeyed and lied, but Ellie was so excited to get home and try to blow a bubble that she pushed her guilt way down deep and just thought about the fun she was going to have.

When they arrived home, Ellie helped Mama put away the groceries.  Then she went outside to play.

Looking at the house, she checked to make sure Mama wasn’t watching, then she tip-toed around the backyard shed and pulled the gumball out of her purse, “Now I’ll show Mama that elephants DO chew gum!” she thought as she popped the gumball into her mouth.

The gumball was hard and sweet.  Ellie smacked and chewed (and drooled a little too) until it was a gooey mess in her mouth.  She tried to blow a bubble like the little girl at the store, but it wouldn’t work – no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get a bubble to form.

She stuck the end of her trunk into her mouth to adjust the gum.  As she pulled it out, the gum stuck to her trunk – creating a long gum-string that went from her mouth to the tip of her trunk.  She put her trunk back into her mouth and tried to scrape the gum off on her little tusks.  Instead, two more long gum-strings formed! 

Reaching her trunk down, she tried to wipe the strings off with her toes, but more strings formed.  She tried to throw the gum, but only got another string stuck on a branch above her.  She shook her trunk and more gum stuck to her big ears.  She shook her whole body and stomped in a circle – gum stuck in her eyelashes all the way to the wisp of hair on her tail.  She was COVERED in gum.

Then she heard Mama:

“Ellie?  Ellie!  Where are you?”  She wanted to answer Mama, but the gum held her mouth glued shut.  “ELLIE!” Mama called.

“Mama!” Ellie tried to say, but it came out sounding like “Mmmhmmh.”

“ELLIE! COME HERE NOW!” 

Ellie’s big eyes filled with tears as she tried to answer again, “mmMhmmm!”

She heard the backdoor slam as Mama came out of the house.

“Ellie, Where are you?” 

“Hm, ombr hmmm, Mmmmhmmm!” Ellie replied and tried to move, but the gum had her stuck, stuck, STUCK.

She heard Mama’s footsteps drawing nearer.

“Mmmhmmm! Mhhemlp!” She tried to say, wiggling her big rump and doing a little dance.

“Ellie?  What are you doing?” Mama said as she rounded the shed.  Her big eyes got even bigger when she saw Ellie covered in gum and stuck to a tree.  “Where did you get that gum?” She asked as she reached up and pulled the gum away from the tree.

“Mhat mm mdorem,” Ellie tried to answer, as big crocodile tears streamed down her gray wrinkled gum-covered cheeks and dripped off her trunk.

“I can’t understand you,” Mama answered as she kept gently pulling gum off of Ellie.  Finally, Mama managed to get enough gum removed so that Ellie could move out from behind the shed.

Still crying, Ellie followed her Mama and let her use the hose to clean the gum from her tusks, trunk, toes and tail.  Using her soft trunk, Mama gently cleaned the gum out of Ellie’s eyelashes.  When the gum was all off Ellie’s body, Mama put a garbage can in front of Ellie so she could spit the little bit of gum still in her mouth into the can.

Then Mama looked at Ellie and said, “Now you know why elephants don’t chew gum.”

Ellie sobbed and said, “I’m sorry, Mama! I’m sorry I lied.  I’m sorry I didn’t listen! I’ll never ever do it again, Mama! I promise!”

Mama wrapped her trunk around Ellie as she whispered to her, “I know you won’t, sweet baby.  I love you.” And together they started walking toward the house.

Just then, a boy on roller skates rolled by, Ellie saw him and said, “Ooooo, Mama! I want to roller skate!”

“No, Ellie, elephants DON’T roller skate.”

“Why?” Ellie answered as together they walked into the house.

~ The End ~

Swim Meet Rules of Etiquette

MNHockeyMama's Swim Meet Rules of Etiquette

1. Never ever block other parents' view of the pool.  If you cannot find a seat, then please, at the very minimum, kneel down or sit on the steps in order to remove your fat butt from obstructing the view of the pool.  (If you choose to stand in front of me and block my view, you can be sure that you will be told to sit down. Arguing with me and swearing at me will only serve to make you look more foolish. Most swim parents are pretty laid back and as Minnesotans, are more likely to whisper with one another about their irritation with you. Not me. I am a hockeymama at heart and have no problem telling you "SIT DOWN.")

2. When the sign states: "No Parents Allowed on the Pool Deck," that is exactly what it means.  No coach wants a helicopter parent hovering near little Billy, making sure that he knows to put on his goggles before he steps up on the block. 

3. Saving seats: STOP IT. The meet is four hours long. Your child will swim maybe about five minutes of those four hours. Find a seat, watch your child swim and leave. There are places to hang out at every swim meet outside of the pool area.  It is not necessary for you to watch every event of every meet just because you are worried you will lose your "prime" seat in the bleachers.  If you choose to put a blanket, jacket or other personal items on a five foot section of the bleachers in case you do leave or your "friends/kids/parents" finally choose to show up, don't expect other people to respect that "reserved area" and not push blankets/jackets/personal items aside when they need a place to sit for the few minutes they are in the pool area to watch their own children.

4. Swearing at all, but especially at someone kindly (loudly) telling you to sit down, is absolutely forbidden.

5. Memorizing your child's best times is encouraged. Memorizing the best times of all the kids in his/her age group is creepy.

6. Cheering for your child and/or their relay team is also encouraged. Cheering, screaming and loudly proclaiming that your child's relay team just "Obliterated the record for ___________ event for 9-10 year olds" is also creepy.

7. Talking with other parents about swimming and other topics is encouraged. Talking loudly to other parents or on your cell phone about surgical procedures, bodily functions, gossip about other parents, etc. is wrong and shouldn't happen.

8. Getting antisocial toward other parents when they discuss topics with which you disagree should be discussed, i.e. politics/religion, and insisting on horning in on their discussion to voice your disapproval will cause you to be ostracized from the other team parents and therefore is discouraged.

9. Talking loudly during the start is forbidden. Respect the swimmers need for quiet so they can actually hear the start.

10. Talking smack about the other swimmers on your child's relay because they didn't perform as well as you think they should have is very wrong and therefore, forbidden.

11. Encouraging friendly competition between swimmers on the same team to get them to do their best is good. Asking other parents how their child swam ______ event only so that you can "one up them" by bragging about your child's massive time drop is rude.

12. Encouraging your child to cheer on teammates is strongly recommended. Condoning your child telling their teammate "good job" when he/she knows his/her teammate didn't come near a best time in ________ event, so that he/she can be smug about his/her own performance is in poor taste and is strictly forbidden.

13. There are no "Refs" in swimming, only "Officials." Yelling at the Official for disqualifying your child is never okay.

14. Do not show up to a 6am warm-up dressed like you just came off the pages of Vogue. Comfortable clothes are acceptable and encouraged. (Pajama pants are strongly encouraged.)

I Want a Wife

When the snow was falling on Sunday, it was beautiful and serene (other than the four times we had to shovel, that is).  With a fire burning merrily away in the fireplace, football blaring on the TV, the newspaper in my lap and the kids off at the sledding hill, I was reminded why I love Minnesota.

Not so much now.  It isn't the cold or the endless gray sky days.  It is the fact that as soon as the snow comes, it becomes impossible to keep my floors clean.  Even if I insist that everyone walking into the house take off their shoes before getting past the foyer, the floors still are covered in nasty dirt brought in by my dogs and/or husband (or, admittedly, me sometimes) who don't have the capacity to be trained to wipe their feet or choose to walk wearing giant, snow covered boots directly into my kitchen in order to refresh a mug of coffee.  I've tried covering the bare floors with numerous rugs or putting slippers near the door to entice new behavior, but those measures always fail.  My floors are only clean for about five minutes after they've been swept and mopped in the winter months.  Add the dirty floors to my family's penchant for leaving whatever is in their hands on any available surface and you have a recipe for absolute chaos in a charming Tudor-style suburban home.  (Add to that the "hidden" candy wrappers constantly discovered behind the couch when a garbage is two feet from said couch and there's a recipe for a parent's head to explode.)

It's not that we're inherently dirty people.  Generally speaking, the kids are decently dressed in mostly clean, neat clothes.  They're bathed (or bath themselves) on a regular basis (although in the summer a dip in the pool sometimes substitutes for a bath), their hair is brushed, their teeth are clean (the little ones are required to give me a "breath test" if I think they haven't properly brushed) and usually, their clothes pretty much match. (Although I did let Buttercup leave the house yesterday in a rosy-red sweater paired with a hot pink leopard print skort and black and white leopard print leggings; I figured that I couldn't wear that outfit, but at six? Who's going to complain?) But we have a problem with clutter.  The usual clutter that accumulates in any family: school papers, newspapers, random mail, receipts, toys, electronics, knick-knacks, etc., seems to cover much too much of the available space in our home.  (If I really want to scare myself, I watch "Hoarders" and freak out with the fear that eventually we'll be carving pathways from the bathroom to the living room and eating on our beds because we can't find the dining room table or kitchen island.)

When I visit my friends' homes, jealousy flows through me as I gaze in awe at their well-ordered rooms.  The craziest thing I ever saw in one friend's home was when she and her husband decided to buy a bunch of ammo and it was stacked on her dining room table.  This wouldn't be an unusual sight at my BFF from Up North's home: they're hunters and her husband is a taxidermist.  But in one of the "best" neighborhoods in my city, in a very beautiful expensive home, encountering a dining room table loaded with ammo was pretty surprising (and very entertaining!).  Another friend of mine has a house that looks like it could be a model home, it's so clean and beautiful.  She has two kids and a husband (who works from home) and other than the dozens of family photographs hanging on the walls, you wouldn't know that a family lived there.  I'm totally jealous by the motivation it takes to keep one's house in such cleanliness.  (For all the spotless beauty of both these homes, they are by no means cold in any way - always cozy, warm and welcoming are my friends and their homes.)

I have the desire to have a spotless, orderly home.  I regularly dream of a home where I'm not freaking out if someone calls to tell me they're stopping by in a few minutes and worrying that I'll die of embarrassment when they arrive and see the state my house is in.  However, I don't seem to have the attention span to do what it takes to get the house spotless or to keep it that way.  That actually is a big part of the problem: I can get the house clean (especially if I have some empty totes in which to shove all the crap covering the counters), but I can't seem to get it to stay that way.  This I blame on my family's inability to put anything back where it belongs or to actually get their shoes into the boot box in the foyer (or to hang up their coats or put their backpacks someplace other than in the middle of the hall or to wipe up the eyeliner shavings from the foyer bathroom's counter...).  Considering that I am the one home alone most of the day, though, it probably isn't fair that I put the blame all on them.  And supposedly, since I am home all day, it is my job to clean up the house and keep it nice along with doing the finances and making sure that everyone has what they need every day.  That's what being a "Home Executive" is, right? And if I didn't have the option of being a home executive, then I would have a job and STILL be dealing with every one else's crap when I got home from the job.

In order to combat the disorder of my house, I make lists of all the "projects" I need to complete so that I can have the joy of marking each one off the list.  The problem is, making the list usually overwhelms me, so by the time I finish the list I'm already feeling defeated and discouraged.  The current list is as follows:

1. Clean the floors.
2. Clean off the kitchen counters, get rid of the newspapers and other random papers.
3. Clean - ok, CLEAN EVERYTHING. (That actually takes up a big a chunk of the list.)
4. Sort and toss the crap in the multitude of bins in the house, beginning with the ones in master bedroom.
5. Clean out and organize the "sun porch" (which is what it would be if it didn't end up being a place where everything without a real home gets tossed).
6. Dust all surfaces and wash windows and patio doors.
7. Bathrooms=disgusting. Git r dun.
8. Buttercup's bedroom, painted in September, still hasn't been put completely back together and organized. Get that done.
9. File all "keeper" paperwork.  Clean out "office-area" bookshelf, replace bookshelf with one that has shelves that aren't constantly threatening to dump contents onto floor.
10. Clean out three (yes, THREE!) junk drawers and one misc. cupboard in kitchen.
11. Finish putting up inside Christmas decorations (no, the stockings cannot just stay on chaise lounge in front of the tree).
12. Declutter Declutter Declutter.
13. Organize and find home for all crafting supplies.
14. Finish Christmas craft gifts (time is counting down).
15. Design and order Christmas cards.
16. Send Senior Portrait into Yearbook company so SwimGirl is not excluded from her Senior Year Yearbook.  (This also includes scanning in SwimGirl's baby picture and getting her to send me her 60 word quote. Hard to do when she isn't currently allowed on the computer.)
17. Clean the floors. (Again.)
18. When list is completed, start all over again.

Number 18 defines the real problem: keeping a house clean with four kids, two dogs and a non-inside-an-office working husband is a gross example of the guy who got stuck pushing the boulder up the hill in Greek Mythology: the house can be cleaned, sparkling and beautiful, all clutter stowed or tossed away, the floors shiny and dog-hair free, the bathrooms sanitary and smelling of lavender, but it only lasts about a day.  Then we're back to the same old behavior that puts us into the house of chaotic mess.  Frankly, I get BORED with doing the same thing day after day, cleaning and cooking and driving them to and fro.  Am I grateful to be able to stay home and maybe work on writing? Absolutely.  But seriously, is it too much to ask to have them put their darn shoes in the boot box and hang up their coats and not drop candy wrappers behind the couch? Is it too much to ask the man to take off his flipping boots already before he stomps across my kitchen floor?

After several years of "just" being a home executive, I'm more understanding of the housewives in the '50s who turned to Valium and speed to get through their days.  At least nowadays, I'm not also required to wear a dress and pearls while I vacuum the floor for the 80th time that week.  (If I met my husband at the door with a kiss and was wearing something other than my cozy fleece pants, he'd wonder where I'd been that day or where I was planning on going later.)  Now, instead of Valium, we have Facebook, Words with Friends and Angry Birds to numb our brains and RockStar and Red Bull to get us moving out of the video-gaming induced haze.

I have to believe that I am not the only woman (or stay at home dad) that feels this way.  When people talk about "Angry Housewives" they usually seem to be referring to the women who go off and cheat on their husbands for lack of something better to do or as revenge for whatever slight they're feeling at that moment.  In my honest opinion, that's exactly the dumbest thing any woman could do: Why on earth would you want to add one more person to the list of people who already are asking for everything from you in the first place? Good grief, I have trouble keeping one man and four kids happy as it is.  Why would I add another man to that group?  If anything, I want A WIFE. Not like "Sister Wives" (although, seriously? Other than having to get over the whole jealousy "I-am-going-to-freak-out-on-you-if-you-touch-my-husband" thing, how bad would it be to be able to say "No, honey, not tonight. Go ask one of the sister wives..."?) where there was sharing of one man going on, but someone who actually enjoys cleaning and cooking and driving duties and could do those things so I could write all day.  I guess that is also called a "Housekeeper" and/or "Nanny", isn't it?  Unless we win the lottery, that'll not be happening anytime soon.

Off to clean the floors.

Random Thoughts

12.5 inches of snow fell on my house over the weekend. It's great that we'll have a white Christmas. Hopefully we'll get a January thaw on the 2nd and all the snow will melt.

Receiving one of my kid's grades recently made me realize how strongly I feel about failure. Basically, I believe that failure isn't an option. I believe that so strongly that I won't even start something if I feel like there's a chance that I might fail in my attempt to succeed.  (This is good in some ways but has also caused me to miss out on trying something new because my fear of failure is so bad.) Unfortunately for my daughter, she's having to come to the same understanding the hard way.  Nothing like having to crack down on a kid the last Christmas she'll be home before she starts college next year.  The frustration I'm feeling as parent is unbelievable. The saddest part is that she doesn't seem to get that she's the one with the power here: follow my plan and privileges will come back; fight it and suffer the extended consequences.  Sometimes having to be a good parent really stinks. (I'm naturally a forgiving person; I prefer to get whatever issue is there out in the open, talk about it - sometimes really loudly - and let it go. Or just sort of forget about it.  So having to follow through on consequences for an extended period of time is really hard.  Especially when my child looks at me with her big brown eyes full of tears.  However, the tears will be forgotten when she opens her mouth and says something totally irresponsible and out-of-line.  That's what's helping me continue with her consequences. Still hard to do, though.)

How is it possible to lose a book in my own house? Oh hey, there it is. Right next to me. Good grief.

Made a double batch of rosettes today. The oil got to the smoking point. Now my house smells like a giant fish fry. I'm not sure if it is a good or bad sign that I didn't set off the smoke alarms.  The rosettes, however, ROCK.

15 days left til Christmas.  Even with our house Griswolded out and the tree (the prettiest tree ever, btw, even though it has a slight case of scoliosis and seems to be doing a peepee dance) is up and decorated and all the white crappy snow on the ground, it doesn't seem like it is really Christmas time yet.  Maybe I need to get more face time with the Hallmark channel movies?

Speaking of Hallmark Channel Christmas movies: I watched one with Tbone over the weekend.  He was scoffing at it at first.  Then he got into it. He was amazed by my powers of prediction - I was telling him what was going to happen (hadn't seen the movie before, I swear!) and he was shocked when I was right.  I then had to explain to him that the Hallmark movies basically follow a formula that begins with two people meeting, falling in love, having their love tested in some way, then ultimately getting married, usually about 2 weeks after they meet and usually on Christmas Day.  Even with all that, he still liked the movie.  I love it that my 16 year old son is still sweet and innocent enough to not have become jaded and cynical yet.  Which can't be said about all kids his age.  For example, I perused my daughter's friends' Twitter posts the other day and discovered that the boy with whom she was supposed to go to the last dance is a very sick-minded individual.  (The fact that her grades caused her to be grounded and unable to attend the dance with the disgusting boy was one little glimmer of happiness for my husband and I in what is a very unhappy situation.  Now if the attraction wears off during her time of groundation, life will be very good.) It does make me wonder what is going on with my daughter's head that would cause her to be attracted to this boy, too.

What would cause kids to think that using the n-word or the c-word in their tweets is acceptable behavior? Is it possible that they don't understand that unless their account is protected that ANYONE can read their tweets? Honestly, I don't get it.  I'm waiting for his next tweet to be Anthony Wiener-esque. Why would anyone believe that their 140 character thoughts on masturbation is something the whole world should see?  It is a sad commentary on what has become acceptable in our society.

Finally, conversations between my children that I recently overheard:

Buttercup (6): "Tbone, was that your stomach?"
Tbone (16): "Nope."
Buttercup: "Huh. Must have been mine."
Sparkles (8): "Yep, she gets gassy sometimes."

Sparkles: "Today I tooted and it smelled just like Daddy's toots!"
Buttercup: "I know because you made me smell them."
Sparkles: "Didn't they smell just like Daddy's?"
Buttercup: "Nope. They were worse."
Sparkles: "They smelled great!"

(I have an idea now of what my kids will be posting someday when they have Twitter.  Why are bodily functions funny anyway?)