Oopsie Baby!

I have a friend from high school who has five kids.  She is a great mother, she spends loads of time with her children, she has a healthy and loving relationship with her husband, brings cookies over when I am feeling down and is an all around wonderful person.

The two of us were having a cup of steaming hot coffee one early morning a bit ago and were chatting up the ins and outs of our lives.  I find the best conversation is often had over a caffeinated beverage with a couple of sugars added into the mix.

As the two os us had our heads together in rapt attention to the other - as we both crave one on one time where we know the other individual is really listening...

Right at that point, someone we both knew came up to us to say a quick hello.  The visiting friend said to my coffee drinking friend, "Oh, I didn't know that you had another baby."

To that, my friend replied jokingly, "Oh, you know, we weren't quite ready for another one.  He was  a little oops, " this said along with a hearty giggle.

After a couple of minutes, my friend and I were left alone again, and I could tell that there was something that had shifted.  After not too long, my friend said, you know, sometimes I feel like I have to apologize for the number of kids I have.  We wanted each of our children, we love them more than life itself, I don't think anyone was a mistake or unplanned!  I hate when I do that...when I make a joke out of what is mine."

Together we discussed that issue and concluded that our kids are the loves of our lives...to my friend, I only wish to be as great of mother and friend as you...and there is no Ooops in that.

We Call It Special Night

A couple of years ago, we started a tradition in our house.  Once all three kids were tucked in and ready for bed, one of them would have what we called "Special Night".  This activity only happened once a week per child, but it was ten to fifteen minutes after bedtime, spent one on one with mom doing whatever activity each child chose when it was their night.  Sometimes in those minutes, the boys would choose to play Go Fish, Monopoly, we'd draw, have hot chocolate, or build blocks.  Depending on the son and the night, the activities would vary.  The boys loved it - it was a time for us to connect one on one with no interruptions, and they got to choose the activity.  During Special Night is where I learned of my oldest son's first crush, about the girl in class who just can't seem to get along with anyone, the happiness at being the best runner in gym class, the struggles that one was having in math, and many other very private thoughts.  

Unfortunately, as things go, "Special Night" has been pushed aside for late soccer practices, band concerts, and playing until the last possible minute.

Today I realized that we haven't been doing special night...and I miss it!

I'd like to up the anty and the fun.  This week, the Crowe house will once again have "Special Night".  The time around, the recipient will be secretly sneaked out of bed for minutes of un-divided, un-equivocally, the best time of the week....at least for me!

I feel lucky....

NEED...just ONE...more...DIME!

Went through a Starbucks drive-through the other day...it was just one of those - I need to have some extra caffeine, to super juice me up, to get through the rest of the day days.

Anyways...I reached into my purse and grabbed what I thought was a fiver...no such luck...it was a $1.  So, that had me a little crazy...must find change...must find change...and quickly.

Found the lint in my purse, many Chuck E. Cheese tokens in my change tray, and mildewed apples in the crack of the seat.  

I happened to be lucky in the midst of it all...I did end up with a tall Americano.

But this got me to thinkin' - do celebrities ever have to scrounge for change?

Enquiring minds do want to know...

FART!

The word - the special special word - FART!

I allow my boys to use this word, and by doing this, I know there is a possibility that some will think my mothering skills are lacking.

Go back 28 years... Star, my next door neighbor, and the "bad girl" on the playground even at the age of seven, was walking home from school with me. Something smelly happened and I said, "Wow, that was a terribly stinky!"

Peals of laughter were heard through the air and I think she might have even laughed so hard that there were tears in her eyes. "Stinky? Don't you mean fart?"

"I'm not allowed to say fart."

This is when the teasing began....and trust me when I say that it was only the beginning.

You see, I let my boys say, "Fart." It might not be a great reason, but there is a reason. One little innocent word made me feel like a fool for many years. I know I can't shield them from most of the world, but in my own little way, I like to try to all of the time.....

Saving Three Lives....

Today I donated blood.  This isn't the first time.....the very first time I gave blood was on the 2nd anniversary of my mother's passing.  That day, I was on my way into the store to buy some flowers to put at my mom's grave site.  Right in front of me there was a big sign that said, "Donate blood today."

It really felt like that sign was up there just for me...it was my turn.  My mother had to have multiple blood transfusions when she was in the hospital.  Each and every drop gave her additional time to be with us.  So, that day in honor of my mother, I donated blood.  

Today, I was able to give blood again.  As I was going through the paperwork, one of the staff from Bonfils told me that giving blood one time could save the lives of three people.  Really, what I does can make that much difference??  In addition, he told me that I was young to be giving blood.....young??  (I'm never too old to enjoy a compliment.)  So, in addition to helping save some lives, I felt like my younger self.

May the blood I donate give someone else additional time. 

Give blood, it's easy, completely free, and, absolutely, ONE person can make a difference!

Fifty-Seven Teachers in the Classroom

This blog is meant to be observational, but I'm already assuming it will get its share of criticism.

On average, there are 26 kids in an elementary classroom.  In each classroom, let's assume that 5 of the kids are from divorced families.  (Obviously these statistics are for Parker - not all neighborhoods.)  Of those families, 3 of the parents have remarried.  What that means is that there are - 2 moms/dads (and let's assume that one of the parents is absent from the family) 3 remarried, and 21 families that are married.  If you add all of that up, there are 2 parents + 6 parents (original)/6 (half - or step) + 42 parents =56.  AND, of course, there is the original one teacher = 57.  Hope this mathematical equation makes sense...

What I am trying to get at is this...a lot of the time I hear criticism about our public school system.  But...if you look at the facts above, I come to observe and show something....

There are 180 days in the school year.  If what I have specified above is even close to true, that would mean that if each parent took 3 1/2 days and spent it in their child's classroom, there is a possibility of some major changes, right??  That would actually mean that there would be two live adult bodies in the elementary classroom each day.

Would this change the test scores, stats, and overall concern that we as Americans have about what is going on with our educational system?

So, for me, I am off to make sure that I am volunteering my time.  I've heard that it takes a village to raise a community...and I certainly hope that is what we all want.

There isn't anybody that is any busier than anyone else.  Isn't it time that we all take the time??

Underwear!

When I first woke up, I felt really old. With lines on my face, and everything saggin', I felt a bit like a beat up pair of granny undies.

At the store this morning, after taking a shower, and taking my time, casually perusing the aisles, using the coupons, and smiling and talking to all eyes that I met, the casual pair of boxer briefs would be what would fit.

Later in the day as I walked past my husband and he silently gave me a slap on the backside I felt a like a lacey thong....sexy and secure in all that I am.

Bikini, boxers, thongs, briefs, they all have their place BUT....please, oh, please just don't call them panties!