A Prayer for My Son as He Enters His Junior Year in College

Dear God,

I can’t thank you enough for sending Conor into my life. And dear God, I also can’t thank you enough for the blessing of Mountain Dew, complete clicker control and a house that will now stay neat and tidy.

I pray that the people Conor encounters in college this year are patient and kind. That they see his smile and his open personality and don’t take advantage of him. I pray that his teachers have an endless supply of understanding when they read his essays, and that they comprehend that just because he is a poor speller doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. I pray that those hiring for on campus jobs understand that Conor moves at his own pace and that You, dear God, intercede and help him find work…even if he doesn’t want it. Cleaning toilets, Lord, would be a spectacular job and would basically kill two birds with one stone. See next paragraph, Lord.

Where I have failed in patience and understanding, I pray that his roommate Zach has the patience of Job. I wish Conor knew who Job was, Lord, but You and I both know that he hasn’t seen the inside of a church for quite some time. It makes me sad, too. Anyway, God, I pray that Zach won’t resort to violence when he finds endless supplies of empty Mountain Dew cans and random socks left in the most unusual of places. I pray that Conor, Lord, will not get ill and require antibiotics due to the fungus that will surely be growing in his room. Please protect him, Lord, for he knows not how to clean.

I pray that none of the criminals with whom Conor goes to school decide to steal his meds and sell them on the street. But if they do, Lord, I pray that the detective that comes to discuss my son with me is 40ish, single, tall and digs me.

I pray that Conor not get involved with hoochies and harlots. While things may have worked out for Jesus and Mary Magdalene, Lord, I would be at peace knowing Conor is free of disease. Open his eyes, dear God, and let him find somebody who is worthy of him. Close my mouth, dear God, that I might screw it up unintentionally.

I pray that Coach Clair realizes that he has a valuable asset in Conor, even if he isn’t playing basketball. But if he doesn’t, that at least Conor be allowed to finish his last two years in peace. Please grant Conor with patience and a civil tongue where Clair is concerned so that the term “douchebag” never leave his lips when addressing his coach.

I am not expecting my son to walk out of Bethany College a completely changed man, but I do pray that he realizes he has special gifts, that not all girls are psychotic, and that he is smarter than he gives himself credit for. I pray that he doesn’t lose his focus on his studies amidst the plethora of illegal activities he might partake in. I also pray that he learns the definition of the word “plethora”.

Finally, Lord, I pray that Conor understand just how much he means to both You and me. That we both love him unconditionally and are there to walk with him; You every minute, every day - me, when he needs me. Let him understand how much I will miss him and how I want nothing but the best for him. Make him realize that he needs to come home now and then to see his dogs…and me too, Lord.

In Jesus’ name I pray…Amen

You Can't Always Get What You Want...

The Rolling Stones had it right when they sang that song. You can't always get what you want. I have been bemoaning that fact for the last few weeks.

A series of interesting and unfortunate events led me to this wallow. First, my house project a.k.a. "The Money Pit" fell apart last Saturday. I went to stain my relatively newly sanded floors and made a not so lovely discovery. Seems my friend who visited the week that my floor sat raw must have had wet feet from my lawn sprinkler and walked across the floor. This dried and I was none the wiser until I went to stain the floor. Her footprints appeared in a weird ghostly revelation right before my eyes, complete with the logo from the bottom of her flip flops. I tried to fix it this weekend...it's a no go. I will be renting the drum sander again and resurfacing AND staining next weekend. The front door will be locked until further notice. :-)

The second strange occurrence was a flat tire on the way to work the other day. No big deal. The spare was flat as well; that was a bigger deal.

Number three on the list would have to be the moment I checked my checking account balance to be sure I had funds to cover two new tires (heck if I needed one I might as well do both...it's been a while) I noticed 500 dollars was missing from my account. WTH? Seems my debit card had been "compromised". Some lady somewhere was about to get a haul after spending some time clothes shopping online courtesy of me. Seriously?

Finally, through no fun at all (damn) my bed busted in the middle of the night. The rail at the bottom of the bed just gave up the ghost and landed on the floor. Scared the bejesus out of me.

So, I was heavily into a pity party, and believe me I can wallow with the best of them. My "woe is me" thoughts shifted this morning. I was on my hands and knees using a borrowed belt sander trying (in vain) to correct my floors. Good think time can be had while doing this sort of thing. Anyway, I started to ponder the bizarre things that had happened in the past week and then Oprah of all people popped into my head. Really? Oprah? Yes. All I kept thinking was that I needed to have an "attitude of gratitude". Yeah right. The moment I started to hear that in my head I could have slapped her myself. But wait. When I thought about it I discovered:

My floors had some other minor errors that I was just going to hide with a rug and the couch. Now they will be beautiful.

I learned I have great friends. Those that loaned me tools and those who helped change the tire.

If I wouldnt have had the flat, I may have missed the identity theft thing and an even bigger shopping spree could have been had on my dime.

Creditors and banks are actually nice to people who have an honest, good history with them.

Still cant figure out the bed thing, although it has provided comic relief to those who know me. You can imagine the jokes.

So basically what I've discovered is that it's ok. I need to relax. And while we might not always get what we want, "If you try sometime you find... You get what you need."

You're a wise man Mick.

Spring has sprung....

I think we are finally over the abysmal hump of winter. I hate how Mother Nature likes to rule supreme and gives us 70 degree days one minute and 32 and snow the next, but finally it looks as if the weather is improving with some consistency.

It amazes me how the weather can affect my mood. Give me a little sunshine and a warmish breeze and my entire outlook changes. Ahhhhh....

My many projects are in various stages at this point. Favorite son Conor helped me thatch/slice/seed the lawn last week. Meanwhile, his sister took a bubble bath and read a book. Um, seriously? I know I was the same way at 15. Karma is a bitch. Anyway the yard is hopefully on its way to becoming beautiful. The walls are done! Pictures will be posted soon. I have to say I hated it for several days, but as time goes on it's growing on me. I am anxious to finish the floors and start putting everything together. That's the fun part! I still need to paint baseboards, stain the floor and varnish it with several layers. Weekend here I come.

On another note, let the record show that the April Fool's Day/8th graders combo is almost more than I can take anymore. First group of youngsters today decided to relocate a teacher's desks and belongings. Of course most 8th graders are plagiarizing fools, so they took the same idea and ran with it. Throughout the day kids were called to the office and back to classrooms to undo the deeds they had done. The winner was the science teacher's room. Tables were stacked upon tables mixed with chairs and other odds and ends. This "fortress" reached the ceiling and hindered anyone from entering the room. It was actually pretty amazing - just as amazing that nobody ended up in the hospital during its construction. I doubt said teacher will ever leave his room unattended on this day in the future.

Trips, Treasures and Spring Break!

I ditched school early today. Actually, I was trying to be stealthy, who knows why, and slipped out of the building during my 8th hour planning period. Just my luck, my principal walked out right after me on the way to a meeting...on Friday afternoon...an hour before spring break began. Poor guy. He was sweet about me leaving - waved and wished me well. Whew.

Favorite son Conor and I hit the road and headed to KC to see my aunt and uncle. It is always a nice trip - scattered, rushed and filled with too much food, but a nice trip just the same. As I have said before, the drive time is usually my favorite. This time I used it to decompress.

It has been rough this year as far a my job goes. Multiple kids have had heavy issues that have taken up residence in my heart and my head. These issues have overlapped and multiplied in the months since Christmas and have left me a bit of an emotional wreck. They say to distance yourself from what goes on with the kids but that is easier said than done. Other than listen to them and pray for them there is really nothing else I can do sometimes. I hate that feeling. It has made me grateful for what I already knew...I hit the "kid jackpot" with my two. God blessed me, no doubt.

My uncle and I headed out to garage sale this morning. Yes, it was basically an excuse to leave the house, as there are not many garage sales in Kansas or Missouri in mid-March but I got lucky! We found two estate sales and then hit some thrift shops. I came away with four lamps and an end table...all for a whopping 20 bucks! Yea! Cant wait to work some magic on them but it will have to wait for the painting to be finished and then the mother of all spring break projects - refinishing the hardwood floors in the same room - to be done.

Here's to a week of family, friends and home improvement. Pictures to follow soon.

Gray hair is God's graffiti

Another birthday has come and gone. Birthdays are a funny thing. When you are young, they cant come fast enough. "I can't wait until I'm old enough to go to school; spend the night at a friend's, see an R movie, drive; date; vote; leave home....the list goes on and on. It's funny how unhappy we seem to be with the age we are.

What amazes me is how "into" birthdays my students are. I teach middle school and let's just say the frenzy surrounding a birthday, especially the birthday of a teacher, is tantamount to a a swarm of bees excited because their nest has been knocked down. HAPPY BIRTHDAY is shouted at random times throughout the day/period. Well wishes are screamed down the hallway. There is also the obligatory birthday song every hour...not necessarily because they want to wish you happy birthday but because it is a calculating move to delay the day's lessons. Then upon hearing it's your birthday you get the autobiographical rants "I had a birthday last week", "My birthday is in May", "It's my dog's birthday...Tuesday, or is it Friday, or maybe Saturday, I think", "I want an iPod for my birthday". Of course those conversations branch off into the virtues of the iPod which morphs into who has the latest Eminem or Lil Wayne song, which turns into a "how to download music illegally" discussion. And all of this happens in a matter of minutes if left unchecked. Tired yet? Me too. Next year perhaps a gift to give myself would be a personal day!

Basically, at this point in my life, there is no giant swell of emotion for this day. I am obviously thrilled I'm still here, but the rush of excitement that the day held when I was younger has slowly changed into a day I refuse to cook dinner and a night when I pour a little extra wine into my glass. I like that part for sure. It's more of an introspective day now, too - like New Year's is for most people. Am I where I should be in life? Who measures that? What are my goals for the next year? What's my plan for how to accomplish them? Why in the world do I still feel like a 20 year old but that is not the image looking back at me from the mirror? Why didnt anybody tell me my eyebrows would eventually sag, along with my boobs?

I guess the biggest gift to give yourself on your birthday is the ability to enjoy where you are at that moment. Take stock, yes, but dont beat yourself up for a goal left unmet or a new gray hair or wrinkle. You are where you are supposed to be. Period. Sounds great, right? That is what I am striving to do.

However, in my darkest moments I do catch myself saying one thing again and again....I can't wait until I'm old enough to retire. :-)

Life doesn't need to be a production...

Favorite son Conor came home last night from college. He had played in his last basketball game of the season and was feeling "free" now that it had come to a close. I, however, was feeling wonderful because he decided to come home.

I can remember when I first got divorced. I used to think that time spent with the kids needed to be a "production"; that I needed to be sure they were entertained etc. I would run myself ragged physically, emotionally and financially to be sure that on "my weekends" things were fabulous. It seemed that things were so BUSY that we never got down time to just be.

The gift that has come with age (both mine and my kids) is that I now realize it isnt about the "production" but is instead about time spent together. This became very clear when Conor and I headed to Vegas for a friend's wedding. Never feeling flush where finances are concerned, I decided we would drive. Conor had just graduated from high school and would be leaving for college at the end of the summer so I figured a road trip was in order. Now, driving from Kansas to Vegas seemed to be a daunting task. Yet, even in the dead of night after driving for hours and hours, we were still having a blast. We did crossword puzzles, listened to books on tape, laughed over the freaks we encountered in gas stations at 3 a.m. and talked, talked, talked. That windshield time was such a gift for me as a mom. In fact, we both agreed that the car time was the best part of the trip.

I have learned to treasure those times with my kids. Case in point was last night ---A simple conversation about life and school over dinner, and a movie on the couch (that I actually stayed awake for)...simple, and yet time that fills my heart.

In for a penny....

Well, I finally made a decision. After two weeks of playing around with color and making a mess of my living room, I finally picked the colors that will soon be on my walls...and I am too scared to start painting.

First let me say I am NOT afraid of color. If anything I have always been rather adventuresome when it comes to dark colors. This project, however, has me stymied. My inspiration picture is here from http://www.how-to-faux-finish.com/...

I LOVE the leather technique they used! So, I read through the website, and started my hunt for paint. I had several EPIC FAILS as seen here...

See the green? That's what I will be covering up. Again, not afraid of color and the green was fabulous in its day. Anyway, I hated all the samples I did. I couldnt seem to figure out what I wanted to do, stippling, sponging, washing...ahh! So one day last week I simply walked into my local Home Despot and went for it. This is what I purchased....

The yellow gives me a headache when I look in the can. I can only imagine what it will look like on the wall.

Oh well, time to dive in. It's only paint. And time. And money. (the headache is back) :-)

Happy VD

Um....right. I received this message together with hearts etc. from one of my 8th graders. While well intentioned, I don't think I will be celebrating venereal disease any time soon. To quote Seinfeld, "not that there's anything wrong with that".

Just so you know:

8th graders + Valentine's Day + hormones= Chaos.

Not to mention the ladies on the warpath because they didn't receive any gifts from their clueless 8th grade loves. My advice to said gentlemen today? Duck and cover.

Heartache

I can remember hearing the word "heartache" as a kid. I thought it meant your heart literally hurt, like a stomach ache only higher. As I've grown into an adult, I have been lucky enough to have few moments of heartache, but have also learned that once you experience it there is no mistaking what it is.

The first time I can truly recall heartache was the day I filed for divorce. It wasn't an ache of fear or doubt, but one of grieving for a relationship that "should have been" - one that two people couldn't or didn't want to make work. Quite honestly, it was also the ache of failure. I could not believe that I was in that situation, and was heartsick about what my decision might do to my kids. Prayer, although a constant in my life, became even more important to me.

The next time was years later in an ICU waiting room. It's amazing how the feelings of utter despair can grab your heart and not let go. My aunt had, for more than three days, been bleeding into her brain. I discovered this upon a visit to check on her after what she called "a tiny little stroke that was taken care of through my femoral artery...no big deal." I was planning on a mini weekend visit just to be sure her "no biggie" and mine had the same definition. Through fault I place on multiple doctors with no communication, she had been taking three blood thinners - after the removal of a blood clot in her brain. That caused the brain bleed that led to an ambulance call and immediate surgery. So I found myself alone, in a waiting room, with the woman who'd been my mentor and surrogate mother for my whole life down the hall fighting for her's. Steeped in memories and fear for her future, I can remember praying like I've never prayed before.

I find myself in a heartache situation again, only this time it isn't a family member or my own situation that is at the source of the pain. I have an 8th grade student, A. He was diagnosed with cancer last year as a 7th grader and had to undergo multiple surgeries, the removal of a bone from his leg, and several rounds of chemo. I had heard about him - knew the 7th grade was doing fundraising etc. to help him through his difficult health crisis, but I didn't know A, himself. That changed in August of this year. I picked him out right away of course. He was the bald kid in the wheelchair with a huge group of friends gathered around him wherever he went. That was what I saw...what I came to know was that A is a kid who seems to light up the room when he is in it. His friends flock around him like bees to honey, not only because they are protective etc. but because he is a genuinely good person. He makes others laugh, has a great sense of humor and has remained amazingly positive through his entire ordeal. The one thing he hates is to miss school. One moment will forever be frozen in my mind where A is concerned. He was feeling ill one day and was refusing to call his parents to come pick him up. I finally talked with him privately and the look in his eyes when he tearfully told me he just wanted to be normal and go to school like everyone else crushed me. I am surrounded by kids all day, every day during the school year who don't want to be there...A, given all his problems just wanted to stay. What a kid. He wrote a paper for me recently about his cancer. In it he described the hospitals he's stayed in, the friends who have supported him and his decision to shave his head (his biggest hiccup during the beginning phases of chemo) before nature took its course. I was amazed at his positive attitude and perseverance. Not many adults I know would act the same way. Yesterday, A was told his cancer is back and is now in both lungs. It was a crushing blow to him, his family and his many friends. Here is a kid who has fought so hard and so long to reach the end of this disease only to be told he has six months to live. My heart aches for him. My prayers have centered on A and his family and friends. Only God knows what's in store for him.

I feel blessed to have had him as part of my classroom; my life. It seems in this case, the student did more teaching than the teacher did.

Closets and Memories

That coat closet on my should do list is now pristine. In addition, I found a box of pictures I thought was long gone and had a wonderful hour or two strolling down memory lane. What a blessing a simple chore that had been put off for so long brought.

While I truly enjoyed the closet, I feel like what's under the fridge is a totally different story.

I think I'm a little ADD

And I'm not even joking. There has been no formal diagnosis, just an epiphany on my part of late. See, I tend to be terrific at planning projects and adding to my "to do" list. Actually, I even have a "should do" list that is lurking in the background with a full supply of guilt over the things I don't want to face like dusting under the refrigerator and cleaning out the coat closet. AHHHH!

My "to do" list is full of beautiful, magical, creative things that would make Martha Stewart proud. Want to make a video of pictures for an upcoming birthday/anniversary/graduation? I'm full of ideas! Have a hankering to try a new painting technique or refinish hardwood floors? I'm all over it! Want to take on various craft projects for favorite daughter Brig, whose "wants" outweigh her motivation to help? Sure! Committed to blogging in 2011? Heck yeah! Want to get up every morning at 4:50 to "finally get on a regular work-out routine with P90X? Abso-freaking-lutely! Again, I am great at the idea and planning thing...it's in the follow through that things fall apart.

Add to the above the things everyone in the world struggles with; work (those papers wont grade themselves), grocery shopping, walking dogs, paying bills, reading the stack of books and magazines I have accumulated, multiple email accounts, a full Yahoo Reader with items I felt I HAD to keep up on, phone calls to family, facebook, and a DVR about to explode with hunky crime scene detectives and and characters who aren't so young and restless anymore...I'm overwhelmed just thinking about it all.

So, where to go from here....that is the question that I have been pondering of late. All of the things listed above are things that I truly want to do. And honestly, all of them will get done. Some will be done lovingly with the time and attention they deserve, while others will be in sort of a I've-procrastinated-as-long-as-I-can-and-now-I-resent-the-whole-thing sort of way. The problem I seem to be having is balance.

There, of course, is a plethora of advice out there about how to live a balanced life. Recommendations that I take "helicopter view" of my life, so that I can bring things back into balance only left me feeling like I was the maddeningly hard to find Waldo amidst the swarming scenes that make up my days. Another site told me to focus on doing one thing at a time. If I could do that, I would NOT be a female. My multitasking is the only thing keeping a roof over our heads, the teenager fed and the animals alive. Good grief. The advice to "clean up my surroundings" was really helpful. It helped me stress because things might be too cluttered and that clutter might lead to stress. Yowza...

Finally, I hit upon one that seems to work for me. "Have a mantra." I liked these:

- Look for the second right answer.
- Question everything, but don't forget to listen to the answers.
- Being sarcastic and bitchy is part of my mystique.
- Stop overestimating others and underestimating yourself.
- Perfection isn't an option.
- Think prosperously!

and of course, one of my favorites....Bigger snacks means bigger slacks. Such wisdom, right? =]

I will continue to ponder which suits me, or I will fashion one that is uniquely my own. In addition, I will strive to calm the chaos that comes with life and simply stop and enjoy - smell the roses, if you will. I guess that's ultimately what life's about anyway.

Hey, maybe that tired "smell the roses" cliche should be my mantra....

Stuff

As I took a look at things I wanted to accomplish for 2011, getting a regular blog going was one of them. It seems that I have started and stopped a lot over the past few years, but for some reason, I think things will stick this time. We'll see. The other goal was to lose weight...yes a resolution once again, and already broken for 2011...but I digress.

I have decided that I like getting older. I know stuff. "Stuff" is an overlooked word, btw. It really encompasses so much and is very succinct. I like that. My "stuff" includes the biggies about life, raising children, being divorced, dealing with family members who are ill and one of my favorites, home repair. (just kidding but wouldn't it be cool to know how miter? Look, another goal...sigh) Anyway, I also know "stuff" about education, teaching middle school students, coaching volleyball and track and various other education related topics.

With each year, my thoughts about all of these things are tweaked, rearranged or even deleted at times. But what I have discovered is the most important "stuff" to know is really quite simple and can be summed up in a quote I read this week...
And what does January hold? Clean account books. Bare diaries. Three hundred and sixty-five new days, neatly parceled into weeks, months, seasons. Let us realize this year, that all we have is all we could possibly want. - P Nicholson

So not only will I strive to blog, improve my list of "stuff" and try to be, in general, the best person I can be, but I will strive to keep that quote in the forefront of my mind and recognize that life really is quite simple. I do have all I could possibly want, and am grateful for all of it.