T R R ~F C C Makes me the best person I can be!

My son and his classmates, friends and neighbors keep singing this little tune:

T R R
F C C
Makes me the best person I can be!

It is not that I am against the 6 Pillars of Character, but it is the fact that we needed to come up with something to replace prayer in school and the character that was built by children believing in something greater than themselves.

All these things are fine and good and I am constantly "preaching" them to my children. I have fallen a victim to the catchy little tune myself. But I also add my own "prayers" and thoughts and emotions, so that it is not all provided to him at school ~ a place that he really doesn't care so much about.

The Bible, 1 John 3:18
Let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.

Trustworthiness:
Be honest • Don’t deceive, cheat or steal • Be reliable — do what you say you’ll do • Have the courage to do the right thing • Build a good reputation • Be loyal — stand by your family, friends and country

Respect:
Treat others with respect; follow the Golden Rule • Be tolerant of differences • Use good manners, not bad language • Be considerate of the feelings of others • Don’t threaten, hit or hurt anyone • Deal peacefully with anger, insults and disagreements

Responsibility:
Do what you are supposed to do • Persevere: keep on trying! • Always do your best • Use self-control • Be self-disciplined • Think before you act — consider the consequences • Be accountable for your choices

Fairness:
Play by the rules • Take turns and share • Be open-minded; listen to others • Don’t take advantage of others • Don’t blame others carelessly

Caring:
Be kind • Be compassionate and show you care • Express gratitude • Forgive others • Help people in need

Citizenship:
Do your share to make your school and community better • Cooperate • Get involved in community affairs • Stay informed; vote • Be a good neighbor • Obey laws and rules • Respect authority • Protect the environment

If we can't talk about our faith in school anymore (unless, of course, it is the Muslim faith ~ sorry, Lord, I had to sneak in a slam somewhere ~ I am not perfect), then we will have to use the Pillars of Character...things could be worse, I guess.

My Middle Man

Man in the Middle

Middle child in you I see that single star reaching for the dream that eludes your touch, and slips through iridescent fingers while you fly through the universe searching.

Middle child the cosmos springs you free and you tug the strings of life and jump rainbows in your sleep, while visions of splendor play Hopscotch in your mind, and on your lonely heart.

Moonstruck dreamer who dreams the dream of life,who beckons the gods’ of the universe to come play among the stars, while dancing around the star lit fire to tell the Tale.

The Ancient Tale of the Invisible Child. Middle child in you I see a dreamer.

(Written By "Mary" from some Internet Poetry website.)

I just picked up S from school. The teacher said, "He is so opposite of J~ It is so funny!" I think that is a compliment to S, not that J is bad, he is just different and much more spirited, which makes for longer conferences with the teachers. Though, as I have thought about this...S deserves to have just as much time devoted to his sweetness and good listening skills as J gets for his sense of humor and talkativeness.

I have noticed that as the Jan Brady of my bunch, S is often overlooked because he is so mellow and well-behaved. J is the first and is involved in all the activities first and gets all of our extra time and energy. And SM is our last ~ our baby ~ and, therefore needs way too much of our attention. S is "mellow" because he is forced to be.

I promise not to make him a "stereotype" and will do all that I can to be sure that he gets the attention he deserves. One thing is certain. He definitely gets the attention from the "ladies".

All the teachers love him. All the neighbor girls love him. All of the girls at school love him. We went to a church other than our regular church once this summer and sat behind Mary, an older woman, from Sam's drop-in daycare...she spent the better part of the church service backwards in her pew with her chin cupped in her hands staring at him in dreamland. Her father told her to turn around and she said, "But Daddy I just can't control myself...look at him! He is soooo cute."

My "middle child" is so sweet and shy. He is such a doll...was the cutest baby of them all. Still the girls can't get enough. They just can't control themselves and I can see why.

First Day of Pre-School

Love Me If You Can...

For lack of time to really write down what I would like to (kids are screaming in the shower and have to be dried, lotioned, dressed, brushed, read to and bedded down....) I am just going to put down the words of Toby Keith's latest song...says so much with so few words:

Sometimes I think that war is necessary. Every night I pray for peace on Earth. I hand out my dollars to the homeless. But believe that every able soul should work. My father gave me my shotgun that I'll hand down to my son, try to teach him everything it means.

I'm a man of my convictions. Call me wrong, call me right. But I bring my better angels to every fight. You may not like where I'm going, but you sure know where I stand. Hate me if you want to, love me if you can.

I stand by my right to speak freely. But I worry 'bout what kids learn from TV. And before all of this debatin' turns to angry words and hate, sometimes we should just agree to disagree. And I believe that Jesus looks down here and sees us, and if you ask him he would say...

I'm a man of my convictions. Call me wrong, call me right. But I bring my better angels to every fight. You may not like where I'm going, but you sure know where I stand. Hate me if you want to, love me if you can.

That's all I got tonight folks!

Oh...and Sally Field would have been censored on ANY network for taking the Lord's name in vain!

MarGEE OUT!

Vicious Cycle!

I get absolutely nothing accomplished on Mondays. Always, there are good intentions, but rarely, does anything really get accomplished.

I did get a couple of loads of laundry done, but, really, does that count? It is just a constant in our lives and is never really anything to be accomplished, just something to get out of the way.

So, there it is...out of the way.

Honestly, it is not really out of the way, either. It is cleaned and, most of it, is folded, but there it sits. Quite RIGHT IN THE WAY. On our bed. So, the next logical move would be to get it out of the way by putting it away. (I should be doing that right now ~ but I am not.) So, later this evening, it will likely get moved to the handy dandy bench at the foot of our bed with some of the laundry that I completed last week.

Oh, crud! That bench is overflowing with last week's laundry and so is the rocking chair. Guess I will have to shove some of the crap over on my window "seat" to make room to put the neatly folded piles of clean laundry. Soon enough, they will no longer be folded neatly, as I will be rummaging through the piles to find what it is that I will be wearing the next day or two. And the rest of the pile will likely get knocked onto the floor when the kids rush to the window to see the bus pulling up with their big brother.

I will complain...but I know that I am the one to blame.

I will want a place to sit to re-fold things, but the damn laundry is still on my bench, and in my rocking chair, some on the floor and the bed is now overflowing with yet another full load of laundry freshly pulled from the dryer....

Girl, just get off your butt and put that stinking laundry away!

It is a vicious cycle...a vicious wash cycle.

One Nation Under God

Got this from a mass email, but it is worth putting out there....

One day a 6 year old girl was sitting in a classroom. The teacher was going to explain evolution to the children.

The teacher asked a little boy:
Tommy do you see the tree outside?
TOMMY: Yes.
TEACHER: Tommy, do you see the grass outside?
TOMMY: Yes.
TEACHER: Go outside and look up and see if you can see the sky.
TOMMY: Okay. (He returned a few minutes later) Yes, I saw the sky.
TEACHER: Did you see God up there?
TOMMY: No.
TEACHER: That's my point. We can't see God because he isn't there. Possibly he just doesn't exist.

A little girl spoke up and wanted to ask the boy some questions.
The teacher agreed and the little girl asked the boy:
Tommy, do you see the tree outside?
TOMMY: Yes.
LITTLE GIRL: Tommy do you see the grass outside?
TOMMY: Yessssss!
LITTLE GIRL: Did you see the sky?
TOMMY: Yessssss!
LITTLE GIRL: Tommy, do you see the teacher?
TOMMY: Yes
LITTLE GIRL: Do you see her brain?
TOMMY: No
LITTLE GIRL: Then according to what we were taught today in school, she possibly may not even have one!

FOR WE WALK BY FAITH, NOT BY SIGHT ~ II CORINTHIANS 5:7

A Reminder to Myself...

My oldest child is a wonderful person, he is funny, he is smart, he is sensitive and caring. He is spirited. He is a terrific individual with a mind of his own and a great imagination.

First grade has started and, all of a sudden, he is disruptive (getting up out of his chair without asking), innattentive (dreaming or thinking of something else that is more interesting), blurting out (excited about an answer he has come up with and wants to be the first to share that idea), pushing and shoving (defending himself on the playground), running in the halls (trying to catch up with the rest of his classmates).... SHEESH!

HOW DARE HE?!

What has happended to our kids' childhood? Our independent spirits? Our dreamers? Our silly hearts? It seems like children are classified as "good students" if they fall in line and follow the crowd and not be heard. They are considered "behaviorial problems" if they do not instantly become a drone.

This is a huge concern to me. I want my child to be successful in school and not find it to be a daily struggle. As notes have come home to me this year and as I have discussed them with my son, I listen as his heart breaks ~ I watch as his spirit cracks ~ I can feel his confidence crumble.

He cries to me, "It is so hard, mommy. I am trying to be good. I am trying so hard!" And then he tells me how ashamed he is and that he wishes he could be better. I tell him that I know he is trying and that I know he can do better...then I feel ashamed of myself.

I can't stop crying about it. I can't stop worrying about it. As a mother, my heart is breaking; my spirit is cracking; my confidence is crumbling.... I feel the pressure (unspoken but insinuated in many ways) to medicate my child into a zombie, so that he can be seen in school, but not heard.

NO MORE!

I understand the need for a teacher with a classroom of 20 first grade students to have some sort of order, some peace and some quiet.

But this is MY CHILD, my 6 year old child, and I want him to be himself. I don't want to drug him into being another version of himself. I want him to be his true self. The wonderful little boy that I gave birth to...that adorable little boy whose first words were Mamma and Dadda ~ the two people that love him and trust in him no matter what. The little guy that used to say, "What's that? A Cow?" The smart and honest boy who says things like, "I'm telling you the truth mommy. It's true that I have lied in the past, but I am telling you the truth now!" (When we were on the way to a Dr. appointment and I was telling a Grandma that Jack was telling me that he was feeling better....) Or when I was asking him a bunch of questions trying to get an answer to a question I didn't want to ask, he stops me and says, "Uh, Mom, I know you are enjoying this little game of twenty questions, but I am really tired and just want to go to sleep."

I don't want my child to just be seen. I want him to be heard. He has such wonderful things to say.

Tonight I told him that he is better and he has no need to be ashamed. I will continue to tell him that. And I know that I will be a better mom for it with nothing to be ashamed of!

Love your child because he is your child. He is unlike any other and, for that, he should be loved for who he is, not for what he is expected to be.

~ Margaret Jaworski