Stir Crazy

I may have started something that has started to get away from me...  Last week several five and six year-olds in class started talking about how hungry they were.  It seemed of no consequence that we had just stomped in from lunch.  The conviction in some of the voices was unsettling.  I almost started to believe that they were in a near starving state.  So, I offered. “I could pop some popcorn if you like.”

“Yes!  Yes! A popcorn party!” was the reply (I did pause for a minute and think, “Wait a minute. Nobody said anything about a full fledged “party”.  Kids seem to think your classroom transitions from a learning center to a party palace once food is introduced. This is not the case, trust me.)

I hadn’t popped corn for this group before this time and forgot just how darn exciting it can be for a youngster to have this irregular experience at school. (Though we had a tonic water taste test a few weeks ago and that was a wild and crazy fun time. So, what made me think this wouldn't be?) Ipulled out the old fashioned Stir Crazy.  You know the kind that have a plastic bubble lid with a wire stirring arm on the bottom of the pan?  The arm whirls around and you can see the popcorn popping right before your eyes.  This was an anomaly to the kids.  I dare say none of them had laid eyes on one of these magic makers from the past.  Suddenly I felt like I had the secret to life’s happiness. (I suppose there is some truth to that when you think of it in the terms of a five or six year old.  An impromptu popcorn “party” is just the thing to bring joy.)

Eager sets of eyes from the student body watched as I poured oil into the whirling pan bottom.

“What is that?”

“Why are you doing that?”

“When will it be ready?”….. and so on.  (I think to just myself, "I am like the guys on MASTER CHEF." I don't let any of the side conversation distract me from the work at hand)

I pour in the recommended amount of corn and slip the bubble lid back on.  Then the waiting begins.  Kindergarten and “waiting” are not the best combination.  They are similar to oil and water or sand on your salad or driving with your parking break on.  They don’t work well together.  There were several premature announcements of "I see it popping!" and "I saw one pop!" LONG before any real popping had occurred.  This is just standard fare when dealing with five and six year olds.  There is no sense in trying to call them out on it. 

Finally the aroma began to fill the room as did the auditory signal that things were happening in the golden colored dome, which now was spewing steam from the tiny holes at the top.  All hope of completing any work with the kids was out the window.  Not a child was in their seat any more.  Instead, all twenty-four “starving” and curious youngsters were jockeying for a vantage point that would allow them to see the transformation in front of their eyes.  Of course there were the customary comments like “Cool!” and “How does it do that?”, “Is the lid gonna pop off?”

Of course I have to maintain the cool and say, “Calm down…. Everyone calm down… You’ll see what happens.” (Not always the favorite response to kids who are eager to know this second what is going to come next!)

Finally the magic is over as the popping slows...... I do the borderline "magic trick / accident waiting to happen" and whip the contraption upside down so the bubble lid can now be used as a bowl. (No skin was burned and no eyes poked out, so it wasn’t anything too serious….just excess oil dripping everywhere.)

As kids munched on this tasty treat I was glad to have some closure to the impromptu chaos of popcorn popping.  Within the half hour the popper was put away and the students were back to work. I didn’t give it another thought until yesterday and again today when kids walked in upon arriving without saying, “Hello.”, but instead greeted me with, “Can we make popcorn today?” and “Will you pop some more today?”

So, three days later........and we are still making popcorn on a daily basis.  As I write this I am sitting here on the sofa, at home, at 7:30 p.m. with toothpicks in my eyes trying to stay awake reminding myself that I need to don some shoes and hit the grocery store to get more popcorn because we have blown throw two bags in just four days. Then I do some mental calculating and wonder if I get up 15 minutes earlier tomorrow would I have time to stop at the grocery that is a few blocks from our school, or will I in my old age forget and not be prepared for the sure to be litany of “Will there be popcorn popping today?” questions when the kids stomp into class in the morning?............ It is a gamble.

 Then I am reminded that if all it takes is a break with the Stir Crazy to make school exciting, what’s the harm?

Plus I learned something else today.....  If I leave the classroom door open while popping it is sure to rouse a few of my colleagues who will then stomp down to the Kindergarten to see if they can have a cup of corn too.  (It is always nice to have an adult visitor or two when the majority of your day is spent repeating yourself.  Not that I am complaining, mind you. It is just a nice break to be able to say something once and not have to repeat it nineteen more times…)

The Tooter Behind me~

I went to visit my friend today.  You know the friend I wrote about a while back? The one with the escalator?  Mmm Hmmm…… I went to Target today.  The Target by my house is a Double Decker (I feel the need to point that out because only in an exclusive neighborhood do they have such things.  Well, that is, if you can call living on the outskirts of “the hood” exclusive)

My friend has a parking garage attached.  So, I zipped up the entrance ramp in my red race car.  (I don’t actually have a race car, but my car is red.  A former student coined it the “red race car” and it just sort of stuck.  Little did he know that it is a Volkswagen and Volkswagen just doesn’t make race cars.  Though, I have managed to break speed guidelines posted in the city on a number of occasions, I still wouldn’t call it a race car.)

As I neared the top of the ramp I was reminded of the need to be a safe driver as a mob of people exited the front door of Target in what looks to be the likes of a clown car letting out. (It was a true mob.)  I wondered if the place had just gone up in smoke or there had been a bomb threat or Anthrax scare.  No way to know for sure from my vantage point…….  They just kept coming.  I saw a parking space just across the aisle from me, but couldn’t maneuver the race car into it without taking out a few of the pedestrians.  So, I waited.  The line of cars behind me grew at a rather alarming rate.  About 45 seconds into the clown car-like episode I hear a blaring horn coming from the teenage gal behind me.  Now, this is a big “no-no” in the driving world.  Just because you want to go, doesn’t mean you get to go, especially when there is a mob in front of you.  Then it hits me, how do I let this woman know that I am aware of her desire to go but I can’t honor it because of the 40+ people streaming across the road in front of me.  I ponder giving a hands up in the air gesture but wonder how will I communicate the situation using my hands?  I ponder stomping back there to tell her about the situation.  (I should have said that the angle of the ramp prohibits the car behind me to see what is happening in front of me because the incline is so great.  So, for all this woman knows I have fallen asleep and am holding up her quest to get to the handbag counter.)

While I am pondering the “stomping back to tell her” I hear the horn blow a second time.  I look back and take note of the car she is driving; it is a late 80’s Oldsmobile.  Clearly the red race car is no match for that tank.  With one fell swoop her right front bumper could take me out.  So, I immediately decide I will do some sort of hand gesture in the rear-view mirror.  Well, as luck would have it my sign language for “crowd of people walking in front of me” must have looked like something else because the next thing I know I am on the receiving end of a rather unfriendly gesture that drivers sometimes make using only their middle finger……  Oh, you know that one too?  Mmm Hmmm..  I didn’t much care for it. 

FINALLY, the clown car crew clears out of my way and I zoom around the parking garage to try and get away from the non-friendly finger lady.  Then I stop and wonder why?  Why am I, a nearly 40 year old man, afraid of this what appeared to be 18 year old female who was in an all-fire hurry?  I had no explanation except “fear”?........  And there is was……. the real reason.  Fear seems to be the most unfriendly of friends who pops up when you least expect it to.  What exactly was I afraid she would do?  Smash into me?  Yell at me? Tell all the other people in the parking garage that I was a terrible driver?  What could an 18ish year old say or do that would make me so afraid of her? None of it seemed plausable.  Further, even if any of those things did happen, who'd care? After some mental gymnastics I reminded myself that just because someone else doesn’t understand your situation it does not necessarily mean that you need to explain it to them. 

Though this example is crude, the notion that you don’t have to explain yourself to those who don’t “get” or understand you or a situation you are living has application in many other areas of my life.  - Now, the tricky part is remembering that when this urge to explain yourself pops up again.

PS- I had no trouble with the escalator today.  I think we are friends again.)

Yo Yo Extravaganza!

Yo-Yo’s are all the buzz in Kindergarten this week.  Why, you ask?  They have been around forever.  Well, we had a fancy yo-yoer come to school for an assembly showing marvelous yo-yo tricks.  (The likes of which I have never seen before in my life. He was quite amazing with the round thing wound onto a string.)  The PTA was then going to sell yo-yo’s at the noon recess for any students who wanted to buy one.  (Mmmmm Hmmmm. You can see where this is headed.)

The yo-yo extravaganza was set for the next five days following the assembly.  Kids could beg or plead for money from their parents for a yo, or they could smash open their piggy bank using their own money to get one of these newly coveted items that have been around since God was a boy.  (I did take a minute to reflect on how the yo really didn’t have the draw for me when I was a child as it had magically done to the twenty-four Kindergarten students in my class, and apparently what it had done to captivate the nearly 600 kids in our school.  How do I know this?  The line at the yo-yo buying table the first day. – Hundreds of kids are lining up to buy these plastic marvels.) - Not only can you buy a yo, you can also buy the paraphernalia to go with one.  Mmm Hmmm, I wondered that too.  WHAT paraphernalia goes with a yo?  Let me tell you.  You can get a pack of 10 extra strings, a Yo holder, a DVD with advanced Yo tricks and so on.  Who knew?

So, at the end of the noon recess on the first day of the yo-yo saleathon I was met by three very distraught five year olds.  Any guesses why?  Mmmm Hmmmm.  The line was sooooo long that they waited the entire recess in line and never made it to the purchasing booth. I worked some magic, I tell you!  I told great tales of perseverance and tenacity and that this “waiting for a yo” could very well be the experience that helped build both of these in them.  It was less than exhilarating to the yo-less five year olds.  One even had tears in her eyes. (I may not be a motivational speaker after all.)

Day Two of the yo sale on the playground went similarly.  This time five of my students stomped in from the mid-day break yo-less.  Come to find out the demand for this pre-1900 toy was far greater than anyone anticipated.  Certain models had sold out and were on back order.  (You read correctly….Certain models…..Who even knew yo’s had different model types?  I thought the only choice was a round plastic ball with a string on it.  Apparently they have ones with ball bearings inside, ones that retract, spin and then retract all on their own and then of course there is the plain Jane model like I had as a kid.)  The end of day two brought an intercom announcement from our school principal assuring the kids that they knew the demand was great and that they would get to everyone as soon as possible to get them their yo’s.  – None of this was much comfort to the growing student body in my room who were still yo-less.

Day Three of the Yo-Yo Extravaganza was yesterday.  Dare I tell you what happened?  An announcement on the intercom late morning saying, “There will be no yo-yo sales on the playground today.” – Complete chaos erupted in my room.  There were tears, there were audible sounds of disappointment.  (After some further research I learned that the yo’s were on order and on a UPS truck headed for us, but hadn’t arrived yet.)

The most entertaining line of this three day experience (Which will be back in full swing on Monday and Tuesday next week) was one boy who paid for a yo on the first day saying to me after this announcement, “If I don’t get my yo-yo today I want my money back because it is just like giving money away for nothing!” – This boy has a future in negotiations.  He is all about the take-back.  I couldn’t agree with him more.

I am anxiously awaiting what Monday and Tuesday will bring and I can only hope that the yo Gods will work some magic and make the UPS truck roll in before noon.

Marriage

I sat down next to two boys in my class who were building elaborate structures out of wooden blocks this afternoon.  One had built a "Lexus Tower"  (Note:   Toy car was placed on top of the tower, which I presume was a Lexus.).  As I began listening to him I was intrigued by what he told a peer...

"I am gonna get married and let her pay for the house and when she tells me I can have the kids I am going to divorce her!" -  Oh...... Oh, my.  What did I just hear?  Mmmmm Hmmmmm....  This is a five year old announcing his plan for later life, which I convinced myself was just something he had heard an adult say and was now parroting it back to his peer.

I could not help but wonder where his ethics were!  Or rather, how might I help him understand that this isn't really something you would want to tell anyone, even if it is your plan for later life.  I didn't have much time to think about it because the peer he was telling said, "I am gonna live with another boy.......Some people do that, you know?"  Well, that would certainly take care of some of the issues that student number one was pondering. 

Both topics were beyond the scope of what I could effectively facilitate an appropriate conversation without some input for each child's parents. So, I look forward to the look on their faces when the opportunity presents itself to share with them the conversation.  Knowing both sets of parents quite well I anticipate we will have a good chuckle about it, but there is always a part of me that thinks

 Hmmmm...... Well, Maybe I will let this one go......

Kindergarten......NEVER a dull moment.

What's Missing?

What's missing? .........Not your sock.......or a favorite shoe........ or your old high school yearbook. What's really missing?  What do you look back on and wish was still present? Or, what do you wish for that holds an element of allure for you?

I asked myself this question this morning as I stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen and whipped up a bowl of cereal to break the fasting. (A master chef here)...... I was surprised with what came to mind...

• A fearlessness that allows you to take risks and not perseverate on the mistakes that will inevitably come from such risk taking.
• Even just one clean closet in my house. (This one made me chuckle as every time I open the pantry door things seem to tumble out, most recently a brick onto my foot.  Don't ask what the brick was doing in there.)
• At times a desire to learn and/or do more.
• Permission to say "No."
• A big slice of Vanilla Bean Cheesecake that sounded amazingly delicious at the time I thought this question through.
• Permission to stop what isn't working.  (Though this one seems to be self-imposed, it is still harder than you would imagine to let go of.)
• A bottle of laundry detergent. (Thus the pile of clothes overflowing from the hamper.)
• Not least of all, my favorite friend from the past.  Somehow we both managed to forge ahead without investing the effort to maintain the friendship.

So, what of this question on some random Saturday morning?  Pick one and take a step in the direction of bringing it back or making it a reality.  I'm on my way out the door to the Cheesecake Factory to take care of the one I am going to tackle today.  You should tackle one of yours too.

Right now.....What's missing for you?

The Taste Test

There is no way I couldn’t love teaching Kindergarten after today.  In stomped one of my students this morning with a GIANT Ziploc bag that had a bottle of Tonic Water in it.  Mmmmm Hmmm…..(I was looking for the limes and other accoutrements to go with it but didn’t see any at first glance.)

He plopped the bag on my desk and began digging in his backpack.  He then whipped out a box of paper disposable cups.  “Here! This is for the class to have a taste test!”   I was taken slightly off guard wondering where in the world he came up with the idea that we needed to have a Tonic Water taste test in Kindergarten.  I was intrigued but didn’t want to stifle his initiative and quite frankly, his resolution and grit!  How many five year olds would stomp in with a bottle of Tonic water and enough cups to set up a tasting bar?  (Mental note to self: I like this kid even more than I did yesterday. )

Oh, it gets better….

So, as the day gets underway I realize we are going to have to honor his request to have this “taste test” party.  One of the fundamental foundations of a quality early childhood experience is allowing kids choice, a voice and opportunity to lead.  So, I scooped up the mini-bar that was now on my desk and walked over to the Kidney Bean shaped table.  I started setting out 24 paper cups.  This drew immediate attention from students who were working in their morning journal. 

“What are those for?”  My reply, “You’ll see.”

“Are we having a drink?”   My reply, “You’ll see.”

“Where did you get those?”  No reply

“What are you doing?”    My reply, “You’ll see.”

This is a very predictable line of questioning any time, and I mean ANY time, I get anything out and start setting it up.  But, when there is the allure of food stuffs the line of questioning comes fast and furious.  This is true so much so that a few braves five and six year olds slid over to the Kidney Bean shaped table to take a closer look firing questions at an alarming rate.

“What are you going to put in those?”

“Are we having lemonade?”

 “Are you going to put candy in them?  We are having candy!!”   and so on.

Finally I have the make-shift tavern set up and I open the Tonic Water which proceeds to erupt causing a great display of “water works”  This is met with cheering and shouting coming from everyone………except me. By now nobody is working in their journal and EVERYONE has bellied up to the bar.

I pour twenty-four cups of Tonic water and then have the brainy idea that I am going to need to get a few photos of kids drinking this stuff to see the reaction on their face after their first sip, or in some cases a gulp.  I stomped over to the closet to get my camera out of my backpack and high-tale it back to the “bar” area.  In my absence a few brave souls were eye-balling the remaining liquid in the Tonic Water bottle.

Finally the time had come!  The anticipation was enough to implode on some of the students.  As everyone tipped back their glass I snapped pictures like mad to get the faces of those who clearly found it repulsive.  (Did I mention that I love Kindergarten?  It must be because times like this when you have all the knowledge you need about a situation that is old to you but so very new to them that makes it all the more fun for me.)

This led to much discussion about the taste and why it was, quite frankly, so “icky” as one girl put it.  We talked about how in the world did the water explode when I opened the lid and what makes the bubbles.  To heck with standardized tests and cramming in more curriculum!  I say capitalize on the ideas that students bring to school and make them educational in ways beyond what you imagined they could be. 

(I did sit down at the computer this afternoon and pen a quick email to the parents explaining the event.  I envisioned twenty-four dinner time conversations where kids talked of drinking Tonic Water at school and the impending worry that may come to the parents. After all it is Friday and I wouldn’t want any undue worry for the entire weekend.)

Perhaps the greatest gain from this experience was honoring one student’s desire to contribute an experience to the class.  He beamed as we chugged and choked down the tonic water and for that alone the time spent was worth it.

Marketing~

12:15 a.m.:  A sense of satisfaction about being an adult waves over me. –How many times would I have killed as a child to do what I just did without needing the permission of anyone? ( I am so cool.)

12:13 a.m. : I turned the key in the lock of the front door on my house. I check to see if any of the neighbors are peeking out their windows.  They aren't.

12:12 a.m. I quiet the motor of my car. (The Red Rocket as my friends refer to it)

12:10 a.m. I careen around the final corner before zipping down the street toward my home. (Hoping there are no stray cats or raccoons darting out tonight...)

12:09 a.m. – I cram the last French fry in my mouth and lick the last bit of salt off of my upper lip. (These crispy grease laden sticks are simply amazing.)

12:07 a.m. I guzzle down three slurps of Coca Cola (I gave up soda at least a dozen times in the last two years, but tonight seems to hold no rules.)

12:06 – A third handful of fries are lifted from the bag and headed toward my pie hole.  (A loose fry tumbles to the floor of the car. I will rescue it tomorrow in the daylight.

12:05 a.m. – I chug big gulps of Coca-Cola to rectify the choking situation.

12:04 – A second handful of crispy French Fries makes their way to my mouth as I blare the radio to the tune of “Walkin’ in Memphis” – (A nice walk down memory lane and my college years when this song was popular. – I remember many a lunch at the Mount Mercy Café with classmates, but am quickly brought back to the present as a fry gets crammed in my throat rendering my breathing nearly impossible.  Several hunks of French fry are expelled from my mouth as I cough to regain an open breathing passageway. - (Unpleasant but it seems to beat the alternative....)

12:02 a.m. – My first handful of amazingly crisp, hot, steaming potatoes goes into my mouth as I speed out of the parking lot and manage to clip the curb in my pursuit to be home and back in bed by 12:20. (I tell myself I am subconsciously checking the struts...)

12:00 a.m. – I place my order at the GLOWING reader board outside of the 24 hour McDonald’s. (I am just two miles from the safety of my home and it is midnight on a school night. I feel free.)

11:48 p.m. – I push the accelerator farther toward the floor as I take the S curve on Northgate Way headed toward the Golden Arches.  My flip flop gets caught on the rug and we reach a speed that violates the law.

11:43 p.m. – I stumble to the door, enter the secret code and beeping fills the kitchen as the alarm alerts me that I have 30 seconds to exit. 

11:40 p.m.  I look for a pair of flip flops, throw on an overcoat and head to the door.

11:39 p.m. – I am in my pajamas in front of the tube, computer at hand reading email…..and then it happens……. A McDonald’s commercial comes on the television.  The fries bounce out of the basket and onto the table with larger than life sized pieces of salt sprinkling down on them.  MENTAL Shift: I must get some.

Conclusion: Marketing is Alive and Well~

Mother-Drugs-Money and Me

         I have found myself on a quest the last few months to really understand how I became the person I am.  Mostly I want to be able to pinpoint what experiences in my life have contributed to the less than favorable traits I hold as an adult.  This has led me on a wild goose chase at times, but I am almost always re-directed back to the experiences I had as a child.  All of my training in early childhood education and child psychology won't let me overlook the importance of what happened during my formative years.  

     I wonder if writing about my own family is unkind.  I suppose it is.  Though is keeping the less than exemplary behavior of a family member a secret the right thing to do?  It depends.  It depends on your point of view and why you want to hide it.  It's funny how the older you get the less you feel like you have to protect other people from the mistakes they have made, even yourself. There are many stories that make up the people who are my family.  Now, my mom is perhaps one of the most interesting, or tragic, depending on the day and your mood when reflecting.  There were times in my life growing up as a child that she protected me from the forces of evil, namely my father .  He lacked a certain sense of maturity.  He was physically abusive..... mostly to her.  He beat her.  It was frequent.  He shoved her down the stairs, made unrealistic demands and threatened her life.  (Though horrific, I am not sure the past matters.  My father is dead now.)  My mother is still issue-rich in her own way, though.  (I am too.)  When she parted from my father (or rather fled) she started down her own path of destruction with my brothers and I in tow, though as a child I didn’t see it.  I look back now and wonder how different my life might have been if there was some sense of normalcy growing up. Though, I have to be careful not to sound like I am blaming the mistakes she made as reasons why I have had shortcomings. Yet, I can't help but think things may have been different for my brothers and I if she hadn't fallen prey to drug addiction.  She was a master at writing her own prescriptions from the tablets she five fingered from her own physician’s office on many of her visits. (Oh yes, "just help yourself" was her mantra.) This went on for years apparently.

            This "feel good" scheme came to a screeching halt one late summer day a month or so after my fifth grade year had ended.  I remember that afternoon with vivid detail even today so many years later.  My grandmother, who was nothing short of a cantankerous early senior woman at the time, as well as a control freak, whipped up in her yellow Cadillac Sedan Deville.   She ushered one of my brothers and I out to her car.   She rolled up the windows at the push of a button and sped away from our house while she told us that our mother had been arrested at the Osco Drug Store for writing herself prescriptions.  I didn’t really know what all that meant as an eleven year old boy, but it didn’t seem that things were headed in the right direction since my mother had been arrested. You don't have to be a genius to know that once your parent is locked up in the slammer it isn't like you are looking through rose colored glasses. I didn’t know any other kids whose mother had been arrested.  How does a mother get arrested anyway?...........  Weren’t mothers supposed to look after their kids,  and make sure they were safe?  My mother did some of that but only when she wasn’t busy self medicating and forging prescriptions.  She was a walking zombie at times.  She slept a lot. ( I thought she liked naps.)  Rather, she needed sleep because she was pumped full of so many different types of prescription medications that sleep was a necessary pleasure.So, what is the issue?  If you subscribe to the notion that your adulthood patterns were shaped by your parents presence or lack there of during your childhood then I can clearly see how these experiences as a young child have influenced my decision making as an adult now.  The real question is: Is it simply an excuse to make the connection between the behavior of your parent(s) when you were a youngster to the reason why you think the way you do now as an adult?  Is it just an easy "out" to allow yourself to think your parents had that much influence on who you are today because of the mistakes they made?  Sometimes I think yes it is too easy of an out.  Yet, other times I can't think of any other explanation.   So, maybe it isn't about figuring out who or what led you to be who you are today (And I am talking about the less than favorable parts of who you are) but about what you do with the knowledge of how your past has impacted you.....

          There is another vivid memory of my mother's drug abuse.  I can't recall which occured first, the story below or the being arrested for forging prescriptions.  Though it makes no difference, they both are alarming.  My mom was lying in her bed.    She was sedentary and mumbling.  She was completely incoherent.  My brother and I did not go to school that day.  (We watched her and were secretly kind of thrilled to be staying home.) Then the reality and grandure of the situation set in......  I remember my grandfather squealing into our driveway late that morning.  I scurried to hide in the linen closet so that he wouldn’t know that I wasn’t at school that day.  He came in, scooped my mom up and carried her to the car.  They headed to the emergency room.  She was admitted to the hospital and soaked up some therapy and drug treatment.        

       One of my brother's and I lived with my grandparents for well over a year while my mother was in treatment.  Later I was told that on occasion my grandfather told people that my mother "moved to California" during her drug treatment time.  (I suppose admitting that your daughter was in drug rehab was a tough one to swallow.) 

My grandfather was a remarkable man with a humbling past.  He had escaped from Aushwitz with a friend and managed to steal an airplane escaping to freedom.  He ended up in the states some time later.  His life and survival are simply put, a miracle.  My grandmother, on the other hand, had ice water running in her veins.  (Yes, she and my grandfather took my brother and I in and yes they cared for us.) Warmth wasn't something that came easy for her.  In fact, my oldest brother nick-named her The Crypt Keeper.  The amazing thing is that she actually looked like him.  The nick name was fitting and it stuck for years to come. 

So, we lived with my remarkable grandfather and the Crypt Keeper while my mother rotted away in treatment for several months.  I think at the time I wasn’t fully aware of what was going on.  What child is, really?  I remember taking the forty-five minute drive to see my mother at the Mental Health Institute.  What a name!  (Couldn’t it be called something along the lines of Hope and Recovery Center or maybe The Independence Center?  To have the name be so blatant!)  The days ran into weeks and the weeks ran into months while my mother recovered from the addiction.  As an adult now I can't help but wonder what was the cost to my siblings and I?

             My mother isn’t a substance abuser these days.  She has other vices.  She likes to swear, as do I.  She likes to buy herself things, as do I.  She also likes to take naps.  I live for them too.  The days of self medication are gone, as is every last penny of the trust fund that she and my grandmother spent unbenounced to my brothers and I who were to receive equal shares of it.  Does the money really matter?  Most of the time I tell myself that it doesn’t.  

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So, is the real issue identifying where and how you arrived to the place you are as an adult? What do yo udo with that kind of connective knowledge?
 Or, is it simply being aware that you don't have to let your childhood experiences dictate how you will live as an adult?  Can't decide.

The Bus Driver

One student in my class told me something today that made me realize my old age is just around the corner.  Well, I am already knocking on 40's door, but I mean REALLY old age is not that far away.

The kids in our school are keeping track of how they get to school each day for a set of weeks.  Each child is graphing this data on an individual ticket attached to their knapsacks. Because it is Kindergarten you have to help the kids complete the graph each day.  As I helped one boy he said to me, "I ride the bus, but my bus driver needs a lot of substitutes."

This was puzzling to me.  Why would his bus driver need a lot of substitutes.  So, I figure I will ask, "Why?" (Always a good one when you want to know more, eh?)

Child: "Because his skin is trying to get wrinkly and saggy and make him old.  He can't drive the bus very good anymore."

Then I wondered what he must think of me and my age.  We have talked about my age in class before.  The kids used to guess I was in my 50's as a general rule, even when I was a new teacher at 23 years old.  After a quick check in the mirror I saw the crows feet by my eyes and thought it is only a matter of time before I will need a lot of substitutes for the same reason as the bus driver.

The House in the Newspaper

Five year olds are a never ending source of entertainment.  (This is one of the main reasons I am still teaching.) 

Today a very well respected five year old bounced in the classroom door and proudly announced, "My house is gonna be in the newspaper!"

This sounded good to me, but I needed to know WHY?  Why was his house going to be in the newspaper?  I didn't have to wait long to find out.  He then announced, "Because our house is so fancy that EVERYONE wants it!"

A buzz began around the room as his peers were tuning in to the potential for overnight notoriety!  If I wasn't mistaken there were a few classmates who had a longing look wishing they too would have their house featured in the newspaper.

Of course I am not one to believe everything a five year old says.  So, I dropped an email to this child's mum and dad to find out the scoop!  Sure enough, they ARE going to have their home featured in a local magazine this summer because they built this house on a shoestring budget and packed it with some amazing features. 

I wonder if the teacher of the child can show up for the photo shoot somehow.....

Big Gulp, Fred Meyer and B of A

I gave up Pepsi Cola!....Well, I gave it up for the eleventh or twelfth time in the last year that is.... Until last week when I craved it so much.  So, I stomped into the local 7-11 to get a BIG Gulp.  What goes with a BIG Gulp you ask?  A Jack Link's Beef Jerkey stick! 

I marched up to the counter, placed my two items for purchase down and swiped my debit card in the reader.  Zip Zip! - (We love technology.)  I punched in my secret code with complete care.  You know, I put my hand up around the key pad and secretly punch it in and press enter.  Then I punch a few extra keys to really throw anyone off who is watching.

BEEP!  Invalid Code. - My big fat fingers must have hit the wrong number.  Re-entered.... Another round of additional key pushing for good measure..... BEEP! Invalid Code.  Hmmmm... Let's try it a third time.... Repeat... BEEP!  (This is the instant when panic sets in.  You know the kind..... Your heart pumps from embarrassment and all eyes are on you.  All eyes that belong to the line that is forming behind you of eager citizens who want to pay for their BIG Gulps but can't because you are holding up the line!)

I stomped out to the car and rang up Bank of Americaon my mobile.  - After several agonizing minutes I learn that somehow someone has managed to use my information to buy thousands of dollars of purchases at a retail store about 30 minutes from my house the evening before. Just two days before this my Federal Tax Refund had been deposited as had my monthly payroll.  The account was packed with cash that isn't usually in there. Mmm Hmmmm...... They read me my new balance.  $43.25.  Holy Moly!  All I could think was, "The mortgage is due!  I have an 1/8 of a tank of gas and I might be able to scrounge up $5 in coins if I look under every seat cushion in the sofa and car." -

Oh wait, there are more details.  (Bank of America needs a shout out here.  They cancelled my debit card at once and ordered the money to be returned to my account, which would take up to 48 hours.) - I didn't want to ask where the money comes from.  But, really, where does it come from?- Is it a gift?

After a hair raising evening of time on the phone with the credit bureau, police department and the Fred Meyer Store I learned a few things....
* The police department is too understaffed to send anyone over to Fred Meyer to get the video footage of the person buying what I now know was several thousand dollars of money orders with a copy of my debit card. (Mental Note: Vote for ANY initiative on the voting ballot that puts more money into public service)
* Fred Meyer will only turn over crook footage to the police.  I can't storm in there with a zip drive and demand a copy of it.

So, after two days of paperwork and credit fraud alerts and sleeplessness I am pleased to report that the cash is back in the account and we are good to go!  Looks like i can gas up the car again and go back and pay for my, what must be watered down Pepsi Big GULP!

Rose Colored Glasses

Do you have mental gymnastics going on upstairs?  If not, read on!  I am an expert at it.  Let me share how it works. You know what I am talking about…..The key elements of mental gymnastics are second guessing, perseverating, denying, longing, anger………and the list goes on.  Surely you have done mental gymnastics at least once in your life.

Let’s get down to brass tacks and talk about the BEST strategies for cranking up a mental gymnastics routine…

First, you must be excellent at perseverating on something.  It works best with things that you have no control over and that you have absolutely no influence on.  For example, another person’s behavior.  Further, It works really well if this person is another adult and is someone who you have had strong feelings of attraction to.  Maybe you even had a relationship with them.  Only then can you REALLY get the mental spring board thrusting you onto the Pommel Horse and start the REAL Mental Whip Arounds! – You want a good workout, don’t you?

Secondly, simply think about all the things they have done that drive you mad.  Here are a few examples of things that are worthy of really working yourself up about. (This is for those of you who wouldn’t know where to begin)

• He or She calls and say they are on the way and somehow manage to never show up.  You call, text, pace, stamp your feet and wonder what act of nature might have swallowed up their car on the interstate while they were en-route. You may even peek out the window to see if there is a tornado passing by.  All of this for naught.  You come to find out later that they simply changed their mind and decided to go out with someone else that particular night, but blowing you off was easier for them so they didn’t have to face the guilt of telling you.
• Like the above, they say they are on the way and then ten minutes later text to say, “Sorry. Can’t make it today.”  Then twenty minutes later they call and say they ARE in fact coming over.  Then another call in 20 minutes saying they don’t feel well and aren’t going to come.  (If this one happens to you then you should feel amazed that you had the good fortune to have such a twisted web of lies that thrusts you into mental gymnastics like never before.  You are on the high bar.  Then you are on the balance beam.  You are flipping, somersaulting and swearin’.  It really is the best type of workout…mentally…in the gymnastics sense of the word. )  What they really are saying is that they would like to hang out with you if the other hot offer that just came in falls through, but they haven’t heard back from them with the confirmation so you might still be on, but it is unlikely.  Thus, the “I am not feeling well” excuse.
• “I’ll call you when I am off work.” –Ohhh, this is a good one too.  It gives you the opportunity to anticipate ALL day or ALL night long this alleged upcoming phone call to either look forward to or wait in anticipation for it to never come.  So, you think you are level-headed.  Maybe they just forgot to call you.  They got busy.  They worked late.  Right?  WRONG!  They stomped out of work at the regular time and are off gallivanting with someone else that they have a love interest in while hoping you will somehow not ever become wise to the fact that they are a liar and have multiple interests going at once. You can usually rationalize excusing the blown off phone call one or two times.  Once it reaches the double digits you can’t help but employ mental gymnastics to process its frequency.
• Next it is helpful if you can really hone in on some of your conversations.  The ones of particular interest are the ones where she or he casually hints around to wondering if you have an interest in someone else.  They don’t just come out and ask if you are interested in seeing someone else or if you are, but they drop hints like, “I bet you have lots of opportunities to see other people.” – “Ahhh….. Well, you guessed wrong, but you are good for my ego for thinking so.”  What that REALLY means when they say something like that is that THEY are seeing someone else, maybe even more than one someone else.  Mmm Hmmm.. Tell Tale Signs are when they start asking in beating around the bush ways if you are entertaining the idea of someone else.  TRANSLATION: They are already seeing and romantically involved with at least one other person. (Now these are not hard and fast rules.  You may be able to read into this some of my jaded outlook- This is for emphasis purposes) so, you take this as an opportunity to casually ask, “Why? Are there other people you’d like to see? Or have you met other people since we have been together?’ – You can tell this is a HOT button for her when she gets instantly irritated and says, “I never would do that!  Girls don’t do that.” – WAKE UP AND SMELL THE COFFE, KIDS! Run for your life if this happens, but ONLY if you want a break from the mental gymnastics.  If you want to keep the cycle spinning, hang in there longer!
• Romanticize the Memory~ this is, by far, the best way to hold onto this toxic person.  Remember the fleeting moments when it felt good to be with them.  Remember a funny conversation with them, or a particularly fulfilling afternoon together – ANYTHING that can get you into the dewy daydream state will work just fine.  THEN instantly remember the 9,627 times they left you hanging, were suddenly “sick” when they were supposedly on the way to your house and the emails they sent to and from other love interests.  – What? Emails to other love interests?  Mmmm Hmmmmm.
• Stumbling on information can be just perfect for jacking up your mental gymnastics routine.  This can happen in a number of different ways.  Perhaps the most taken off guard ones are the best.  For example, you are told to order up a pizza online when at her house. So, she throws you her smart phone to order up a pie online and she jumps in the shower.  You punch buttons to bring up the internet on this 4 inch screen (You forgot your glasses and you are nearing 40 so it is a challenge) and you see that her email inbox page is up and there are a series of emails from other guys that have eye-catching and ALARMING subject lines……Anything with “Oh, baby”, ‘Hey Babe” or “That was FUN last night” in the subject line is a red flag, kids. Well, you can just imagine where this is going.  It is wronger than wrong, beyond any sense of invasion of privacy to do it, but you simply must to keep the mental gymnastics going. You read a few of these emails.  After all it will only help your Mental Gymnastics go to a level they haven’t yet reached.  You will know you are at this level when the instant pang strikes your chest and sometimes your lower gut.  This is typically coupled with your lower jaw falling and your brows scrunching up. You have proof staring you in the face that your romanticized memories of this person are of little value.  You have to think fast.  Are you ready to storm out and simply explain that you aren’t really a match for her anymore?  Do you confess that you just read some of her email? Of course you don’t!  That would put a stop to the mental gymnastics that have you flipping, flopping, and second guessing which is holding you in this state of disbelief.  Nope. Instead you quickly order the pizza and perseverate in her presence about these other “friends” that clearly more is going on with.

But what about the day when you finally can’t ignore that continuing on with the mental gymnastics will, in the end, destroy you?  You swallow a great deal of pride and realize this person is much stronger than you are and you are no match for his or her elaborate behavior.

What about when the time comes to trade in the rose colored glasses and to stop pretending that this person is the “one and only” when really they are just unremarkable?  (Oh, Been there, have you?)

What about when you can’t ignore the oppressive falsehood that remembering the relationship somehow preserves it or connects you to this person?

What about the moment when you finally can see that this wasn’t about love?  What powered this attraction to this person was really about your soul’s desire to heal the past? (Mmm Hmmm… I read that somewhere and thought there is no way there is any truth to that statement.  Yet, I have read it a dozen times since then and still can’t say with 100% certainty that it isn’t true.  Isn’t doubt just unresolved truth?)

In the end you can’t let yourself ignore that this whole experience of “love” was just an illusion.  It was temporary and in reality it wasn’t love.

I say storm through the door, people! – Pack it up, move ‘em out and NEVER turn back. Shed a tear, or cry a river, but get yourself free~

I Saw Them Kissing!

Kissing is a BIG no-no in Kindergarten.  Well, it is a big no-no for any grade when you are at the school-house.  Who you kiss and what you do as a five, six, seven or eight year old on your own time when you are off my clock is COMPLETELY up to you and rests with your parents.

Every morning my class assembles in something known as a “community circle”.  Simply put, we think of our class as a community of learners and we come together to continue to build the bond we have with one another by sharing anything this is on our mind with our peers.  Usually there are a handful of kids who announce they have a play date with a peer coming up.  Or, someone will announce that a relative is coming for a visit.  Sometimes kids want to tell about a new “level” they reached on a video game, etc…………  Not this past Monday………….  One child announced in that tone that clearly indicates the desire to get someone else in trouble, “I saw those two kissing!” (This was said with a simultaneous gesture pointing with both hands at a boy and girl in our classroom who were sitting across from one another in the circle.)

The usual gasps of appalled, AND highly intrigued, five year old classmates was heard in waves across the classroom at that very instant.  All eyes turn to the teacher to see what, if anything will come of this accusation.  Even in a court of law you are innocent until proven guilty, right?

When the turn came for one of the accused to share something with the class she had clearly been mauling this accusation over in her head while waiting.  She stood up and announced, “I did NOT kiss him!” – (Right hand on hip, left hand pointing at the other accused.)  and then it hit me…. Kindergarten is more like a daytime drama television show than I had every imagined.  – I couldn’t help  but wonder if Kindergarten is really just the playground where young people rehearse for later life.  But alas, my personal refeection time was cut short when another child announced, "I saw HIM pick his nose!" - He too was pointing with a disaprooving look at the next accused.  Never a dull moment....