Just a moment ago, I received this short e-mail from my husband. He is off work for the 18th day in a row, just because he wants to, so he is watching my child today...
910......3 numbers, no big deal.......till today....910 has great signifcance today.....on this great day 910 represents the time that jr decided to wake up today.....and since it was good enough for him to sleep to 910 i figured it was good enough for me.....so now i guess we can both be classified as worthless and lazy...he is his daddy's child....later.
I can't believe it! Any time I want to sleep in, the boy has to wake up between 6:30 and 7 in the morning... But NO... when it's Daddy at home, they sleep until 9! What the heck?!?
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Monday, December 05, 2005
Here Today, Gone Tomorrow
Yesterday in church, I was listening to our associate pastor drone on about the same point for too many minutes. In doing so, I happened to fall victim to my lack of decent sleep the night before. And twice, my husband caught me. So, not wanting to give him too much to nag at me about later, I tried to keep my mind occupied with other things that would keep me awake, since the ever-continuous sermon kept going on.
In doing so, I noticed that there was a gentleman that used to lead our Sunday school class, who was always impeccably dressed, was not so impecible this morning. He was wearing a shirt that had a bodice one color, the collar a different color, and each sleeve was a different color as well. I was drawn to it the way you're drawn to a car wreck. I wanted to look, just to be sure I was seeing what I was seeing, but it was so grotesque that I couldn't take my eyes away.
And then I started thinking. I know, wrong thing to do, but I did it anyway. Looking at his shirt, it looked like the ones that were really popular in the late eighties, early nineties, which was about the time that he was in college. And, being the fit, muscular man that he is, he probably hasn't changed sizes since then, so all of the clothes he used to wear probably still fit. So, he chooses to wear them, still.
Herein lies my dilemma. Do I wear clothes that are out of style now, or are the clothes I wear still timeless enough that it doesn't matter? Do I have enough sense to know which clothes are out of date now, and not to wear them? Or am I getting dressed every morning and being a distraction to my students as I stand in front of them? Even worse, is there anyone that would tell me that a certain outfit shouldn't be worn anymore? My husband sure wouldn't know.
I just don't want to look like that other guy when I go out in public.
In doing so, I noticed that there was a gentleman that used to lead our Sunday school class, who was always impeccably dressed, was not so impecible this morning. He was wearing a shirt that had a bodice one color, the collar a different color, and each sleeve was a different color as well. I was drawn to it the way you're drawn to a car wreck. I wanted to look, just to be sure I was seeing what I was seeing, but it was so grotesque that I couldn't take my eyes away.
And then I started thinking. I know, wrong thing to do, but I did it anyway. Looking at his shirt, it looked like the ones that were really popular in the late eighties, early nineties, which was about the time that he was in college. And, being the fit, muscular man that he is, he probably hasn't changed sizes since then, so all of the clothes he used to wear probably still fit. So, he chooses to wear them, still.
Herein lies my dilemma. Do I wear clothes that are out of style now, or are the clothes I wear still timeless enough that it doesn't matter? Do I have enough sense to know which clothes are out of date now, and not to wear them? Or am I getting dressed every morning and being a distraction to my students as I stand in front of them? Even worse, is there anyone that would tell me that a certain outfit shouldn't be worn anymore? My husband sure wouldn't know.
I just don't want to look like that other guy when I go out in public.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
The Apple is Red
When I was going to school to be a teacher, I decided that I liked the 3rd to 5th grade range the best. Junior high kids scare me, I didn't want to teach high school where they were all bigger than me, and I didn't want to go lower than third grade because that was when you taught kids how to read and write, and that was my biggest fear: being responsible for the literacy development of twenty kids. So, I am now teaching high school. Ironic, I know.
Then, we wanted to start a family. We were so excited about the baby, and what to name him, and what he would look like, that I forgot about all my fears. Then this little angel was born, and for over a year, I've been watching him grow up and just been amazed at how fast he's growing up and all the things that he's learning.
Then, I hear a bunch of other parents of toddlers talk about all the things that they are teaching their children. And, suddenly, my fear returns. I don't think I'm teaching him all the right things. Or even ANY of the right things! How do I know what to teach him first? There are so many things, and I don't even know developmentally where he's even supposed to be right now!
He learns new words everyday, he knows to say please if he wants something, and to say thank you when he gets it. He pretty much can communicate exactly what he wants with either words, gestures, or grunts. He can recognize many different objects by either their picture or looking out the window, he can tell you what cows, horses, chickens, ducks, Mickey Mouse, dogs, monkeys, lions and a few other animals sound like, and he can name a whole bunch of different body parts and point to them when you ask where they are.
But are these the kinds of things I am supposed to be teaching him? Are there more important things we should be working on instead of colors and how many pencils are in the picture? Why didn't anyone tell me when he was born all the kinds of things he's supposed to be able to do by certain milestones in his life? And don't even get me started on potty-training...
Can't we just go back to seeing if he can raise his head and roll from his tummy to his back?
Then, we wanted to start a family. We were so excited about the baby, and what to name him, and what he would look like, that I forgot about all my fears. Then this little angel was born, and for over a year, I've been watching him grow up and just been amazed at how fast he's growing up and all the things that he's learning.
Then, I hear a bunch of other parents of toddlers talk about all the things that they are teaching their children. And, suddenly, my fear returns. I don't think I'm teaching him all the right things. Or even ANY of the right things! How do I know what to teach him first? There are so many things, and I don't even know developmentally where he's even supposed to be right now!
He learns new words everyday, he knows to say please if he wants something, and to say thank you when he gets it. He pretty much can communicate exactly what he wants with either words, gestures, or grunts. He can recognize many different objects by either their picture or looking out the window, he can tell you what cows, horses, chickens, ducks, Mickey Mouse, dogs, monkeys, lions and a few other animals sound like, and he can name a whole bunch of different body parts and point to them when you ask where they are.
But are these the kinds of things I am supposed to be teaching him? Are there more important things we should be working on instead of colors and how many pencils are in the picture? Why didn't anyone tell me when he was born all the kinds of things he's supposed to be able to do by certain milestones in his life? And don't even get me started on potty-training...
Can't we just go back to seeing if he can raise his head and roll from his tummy to his back?
Monday, November 28, 2005
What he says goes!
When I was pregnant, both sets of grandparents talked about what they wanted to be called by the new baby when it was old enough to talk. Jonathan and I both agreed that whatever the baby decided to call them, that was what everyone else would be stuck calling them for ever after. It was a big responsibility for such a little person, but we knew that our little one would do just fine.
The grandmothers, though, had different ideas. Both of them have aversions to certain names because of the grandmother before them, and both of them have one name that they just really don't want to be called. His mother didn't want to be called "Mamaw" because that's what we call her mother-in-law. My mother didn't want to be called "Grandma" because that's what we called her mother-in-law. So, his mother decided she wanted to be just plain Grandma, and my mother wanted to put a little bit of a flair on an old thing, and she decided she wanted to be called "Grandmama", with a rolling "r". It sounded very aristocratic.
Well, little Micheal is now at the remembering people and their names stage, and both of his grandmothers are here every month, alternately. So, he knows them pretty well, and he's working on calling them by name.
Grandma has been pushing her name, and Grandmama is working on hers. The only problem is that they aren't coming out the way they wanted. Micheal calls them both "Mamaw". So, while my mom was here, we tried to change it a little bit so that there was a difference between the two at least. So, my mom now answers to "Memaw" and we saved "Mamaw" for his mom. Now we just have to work on the two "Papaws". He doesn't quite see them as often.
So, the lesson of the day is that you can't always have it your way. Grandkids don't follow the same rules as Burger King.
The grandmothers, though, had different ideas. Both of them have aversions to certain names because of the grandmother before them, and both of them have one name that they just really don't want to be called. His mother didn't want to be called "Mamaw" because that's what we call her mother-in-law. My mother didn't want to be called "Grandma" because that's what we called her mother-in-law. So, his mother decided she wanted to be just plain Grandma, and my mother wanted to put a little bit of a flair on an old thing, and she decided she wanted to be called "Grandmama", with a rolling "r". It sounded very aristocratic.
Well, little Micheal is now at the remembering people and their names stage, and both of his grandmothers are here every month, alternately. So, he knows them pretty well, and he's working on calling them by name.
Grandma has been pushing her name, and Grandmama is working on hers. The only problem is that they aren't coming out the way they wanted. Micheal calls them both "Mamaw". So, while my mom was here, we tried to change it a little bit so that there was a difference between the two at least. So, my mom now answers to "Memaw" and we saved "Mamaw" for his mom. Now we just have to work on the two "Papaws". He doesn't quite see them as often.
So, the lesson of the day is that you can't always have it your way. Grandkids don't follow the same rules as Burger King.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Blessing in Disguise
This week has been pretty painful, and I don't think it's over yet. I will probably have to return to work and somehow convince the kids that I really can't talk louder than a whisper and they need to be quiet enough to hear me. We'll see how long that lasts.
At home, though, has been a different story. I have been able to sit back and, without commenting too much, watch my little one be himself. Micheal is getting so big every day, and this week, I got to watch him grow up just a little bit more. Usually, I work all week long and get to hang out with him on the weekends. So, I look forward to weeks off from school so that we can hang out longer. The neatest part, though, was that I got to just sit and watch. I didn't have other stuff that I just HAD to get done, or a meal that had to get finished, or anything like that. I got to watch him play, I got to watch him interact with my mom, and her puppy dog, and I got to hear him add more words to his everyday growing vocabulary.
Sometimes I forget exactly how far he's come from just a short eighteen months ago, and sometimes I forget that eighteen months really is a short amount of time, not a long one like it gets to feeling like sometimes.
So, this year, when people ask me how my Thanksgiving went, I'll be able to tell them that it was WONDERFUL! (despite the fact that it really was pretty painful.)
Now, I really can't wait until Christmas! :)
At home, though, has been a different story. I have been able to sit back and, without commenting too much, watch my little one be himself. Micheal is getting so big every day, and this week, I got to watch him grow up just a little bit more. Usually, I work all week long and get to hang out with him on the weekends. So, I look forward to weeks off from school so that we can hang out longer. The neatest part, though, was that I got to just sit and watch. I didn't have other stuff that I just HAD to get done, or a meal that had to get finished, or anything like that. I got to watch him play, I got to watch him interact with my mom, and her puppy dog, and I got to hear him add more words to his everyday growing vocabulary.
Sometimes I forget exactly how far he's come from just a short eighteen months ago, and sometimes I forget that eighteen months really is a short amount of time, not a long one like it gets to feeling like sometimes.
So, this year, when people ask me how my Thanksgiving went, I'll be able to tell them that it was WONDERFUL! (despite the fact that it really was pretty painful.)
Now, I really can't wait until Christmas! :)
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