A Musing Mother 6

Kindergarten teachers fascinate me. Certainly, there is the occasional oddball who doesn't like teaching kindergarten and finds the children quite bothersome, but then there are the teachers at my son's school. Ridiculously long, healthy, dark hair, always curled and/or flat ironed and never in a ponytail. Make-up, color-coordinated and professional clothing and that ridiculous smile that doesn't budge. They are unflappable, organized, and never get tired. Nancy's response to a child standing on the table: "Get off the table. Get off the table. Right. Now. Get off the table or I'm going to call your mother!" As if I know his mother. Ms. R.'s response to a child standing on the table: "Oh, Collin," in a disappointed voice. "What are tables for?" Collin never gets on the table again. She has 27 children in her class. Everything is organized, scheduled, and predictable. When a parent who is supposed to be helping in her class steps out

"Wait a minute Dad, I need to buckle up Back Pack before we go!" "Good idea, she needs to be safe." "It's a HE dad.  He needs to be safe." "Oh, of course." "His name is Gold, because gold is yellow like Back Pack." "Makes sense." "Hello Gold, how are you today?" "Um.  Dad.  He can't hear you.  He's a backpack."

My oldest daughter turned 16 on Sunday. When I told others this fact I was often greeted with a gasp and then, "How do you feel about that?!"  I feel fine about it.  Honestly, I stayed in what-do-I-need-to-accomplish mode.  I thought about the birthday cake I would bake from scratch  buy from Costco, birthday shopping and carrying out the second part of fulfilling my destiny.  While others are floundering with the doctrinal questions of purpose of life, I have it all figured out.  My first purpose is to give four children birth.  Done.  The second purpose is to mortify them all the days of my earthly existence.  This has brought me a great deal of glee. The reason I blog. I've carefully considered the pros and cons of having another driver in the house.  Not that we have an extra car but how nice it will be to send her to pick up a sibling from school when I'm not home or up the street to pick up sour cream from the store.  Since she's still in training, however,

Three of my four children are fairly certain there is no Easter bunny.  The same three that are pretty sure about Santa Claus.  I'm not saying one way or the other because Santa is kind of like a sacred relic in my mind and not Pagan.  Regardless, the Easter bunny comes to our house every spring which, coincidentally, is the same day we celebrate the Savior's resurrection. When I was the mother of one little girl, I went to the fabric store and picked out a pattern of a darling little Easter dress with pantaloons, buttons and a collar.  All the big nuh-uh's.  Hours and days later, the result was a blue checked dress with sunflowers that was sort of cute, too short, and very expensive.  I was proud.  It was a rite of passage and although not glorious, it was passable. A year later I had two little girls and I made matching jumpers without buttons, zippers, or collars.  Although adorable, I skimped on the pantaloons as well.  Shortly after that I discovered Jolene's and I

 Guess who is trying to get the timer on the camera to work.  Where is the mom?  Not here...  Nope.  She hasn't shown up yet... Seriously. This is getting old. Maybe we gave up a little too soon.  Just call us the Dorky Bunch. There it is!  The whole family without the vlogging.   We're dorks.  Sorry. That's okay, girls.  Go ahead and play on the cliffs. I'm still trying to work the timer on the camera.

Pardon the alabaster legs.  Someone really needs a tan. No segue and totally random, hypothetical question that has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with my life - Is it ever appropriate to spank a 13 year old child when she is tired, cranky, and radiates unfocused anger while lashing out at anyone and everyone which ruins a family vacation?  At least after the hour of 7:00 p.m. every night.  I'd love to hear your thoughts and experience.  Again, not that it is relevant to my life or anything... just an overall parental support question.

The gesture Namaste represents the belief that there is a Divine spark within each of us that is located in the heart chakra. The gesture is an acknowledgment of the soul in one by the soul in another. "Nama" means bow, "as" means I, and "te" means you. Therefore, Namaste literally means "bow me you" or "I bow to you." A  system of exercises for attaining bodily or mental control and well-being ______________________________________________________ Fill the lungs with a deep inhale, bringing in energy, vitality and prana, the life force..... ... Go to the post office, pick up prescriptions at the drugstore... As you exhale, feel the body releasing toxins, stress and any negativity that has accumulated, as it drains down into the ground..... ... needs her teeth cleaned.  I should call the dentist... Stay with this breath, focusing on the feeling of deep peace for ten deep inhalations and exhalations.... ... bake a birthday cake - maybe b

I have discovered that epiphanies come at the most odd moments and locations.  The newest location is our local WalMart.  Which I hate, for the record but that fact is irrelevant for this post.  I'm just reiterating my feelings. Right in the aisle by the chocolate chips I ran into a couple of friends from my childhood.  They grew up and got married to each other.  I thought it was serendipitous because my oldest daughter and I were shopping for quilt supplies and Charlotte happens to be a master quilter.  I tried the "divine intervention" route, trying to guilt her into renewing our friendship and drop on by my house the following day and help us with piecing this thing together but it was a no-go.  Always worth a try. As we stood there talking, me in my sweatshirt announcing the high school where I work, a stocker passed us a number of times.  I had an inkling I knew the boy and, once I finished catching up with my friends, accosted him and asked him if I knew him from t

  She wants to do color guard but doesn't know how to twirl a flag.  I'll support any healthy hobby that doesn't require me to be Julie, the cruise director, and provide entertainment every waking moment.  Love the child dearly but she was born with an Energizer battery and no "OFF" button. The high school is holding workshops every Thursday at 4:00.  Even though she's only 13, she really, really, really wants to learn how to be on color guard then dance with all the props on football fields.  I'm not a tragic figure but in order for her to make these practices I am going to need to leave work a little early and break a few traffic laws.  She called me at 3:10 just to remind me to leave early so she could get to the gym and be one of the lucky to secure a flag.  I can't leave too early or it will raise eyebrows so I have it timed with little room for error. I cut off conversations mid-sentence, leave my computer running, run in the hall (big no-no in a