Already?

I can't believe it's the end of the first quarter! This year has flown by. My seventh graders this year are a dream . They make my two hours of 8th graders tolerable and sometimes even enjoyable.

My own kids are growing up. Tonight we went to the school carnival. I was informed that they did not want me to walk around with them. They are nine, and I guess it's time for that. I'm not sad, just shocked. I'm shocked that it's here already. Where did the time go? I know I sound like a cliche, but it's so true. I know every mother asks herself this. Believe me, when they were 3 months old, throwing up or teething, when I had such sleep deprivation that I thought I was going to die, I never thought this day would come. Before I know it I will be at their high school graduations. It's weird.

Time Flies!

I cannot believe how crazy it is that I have not written in so long! Once school starts, my life just goes full speed ahead. It is only because it is Labor Day weekend and my kids are with their dad that I have a chance to sit down and be a little lazy!

Only those who teach can know how time consuming and draining the beginning of the school year can be. Actually those kids can take it out of my all year. But I really do love it. Middle school is the best grade level ever. I was thinking what it was that seems to make this age so amazing to me. I think it's because their just on the precipice of things. They don't even know all of the potential they have. But everyday I see it, and it's an amazing thing to behold.

But it does make my life full, and it makes me exhausted. After dealing with children all day, I come home to be with my own children. And I just have very little to give at the end of the day. Hopefully I can rectify that and start to write a lot more, at least on the weekends!

School's Starting!

I love this time of year! School starts on Monday. Not only do my own kids go back, but I go back too. This year I'll be teaching 7th and 8th grade. I do not know why I'm so excited. At the end of last year, I walked, almost ran away! It was such a rough year. Some of those kids were real boogers. They were just constantly testing, pushing. The fact that I'm going to have some of them again should not be making me happy. But I am really ready to get back in there and teach and share. This is why summer break is good for teachers. It dulls the pain from the previous year, and allows you to do it all over again!

Arachnophobia

I was sitting in the front room talking to my mom on the phone while my kids were in the living room watching a DVD of The Brady Brunch. Yes, The Brady Brunch. I found a DVD at the library and wondered if my kids would like it. Oh my gosh, they loved it!. I have to say that I have enjoyed watching it again too. Who wouldn't love The Brady Brunch? Even though they fight and have problems, they always work it out. And Mike and Carol, while not perfect, are pretty amazing parents. But I digress...

While I'm on the phone I hear a loud, prolonged scream from nine year old son. Now, it is not unusual for my kids to have arguments of their own. And when they argue, sometimes they scream. I'm not proud to admit this, but there you are. So, I wasn't too concerned, except at the end of the scream there was a hint of fear. The scream sort of went up in pitch-just a pinch of hysteria. I had heard this very same scream from him a couple of years ago in the winter when I mouse ran over his foot. This was right after we moved in to our house, before I knew that mouse poison had to be a permanent winter time fixture in our house. So, my first thought was that he had seen a mouse.

I went in to the other room, asking him what in the world was the matter. He was all the way in the kitchen, and he pointed at the couch. "There's a spider," he said. I'm thinking, oh, ok, I can deal with this and get back to the conversation on the phone with my mom. I ask him where it is and he points the the edge of the couch. I look, and there is the biggest spider I have ever seen. It was definitely tarantula-sized. I know what a tarantula looks like, because when I was about nine years old, I was one in the latrine at Girl Scout camp. I didn't see it until I was actually on the toilet, looked up and saw it staring down at me. It scarred me for life.

I don't think I can explain how much I hate creepy, crawly, things or varmints of any sort. And seeing that spider took me right back to my childhood. All of the fear and revulsion that I felt at that time came pummeling back to me. My heart started pounding, my hands started sweaing, and I'm sure I was chalky white.

All this time my mom is still on the phone. I tell her in a quavery voice about the spider. Now, she only lives a couple of blocks away. I'm thinking she'll say, "I'll be right there." She is pretty fearless. But, no. She asks how I'm going to scoop it up. Scoop it up? Are you kidding? As far as I'm concerned, it can take up residence on my couch. My son will have to find a new seat. My mom starts telling me to grab a pot and place it over the spider. But the spider is near the crack between the cushions on the seat. There's no way that will work. And I know that spiders jump. Do you think that I want that spider to jump on me? No way. I don't think I could recover.

So my mom asks if I have any bug spray. I tell her irritably that I think I do, and I go out to the garage to find it. All of this time the spider is just relaxing, not moving, as if he's king of my living room. When I get back to the living room the spider is still where I have left it. I take a deep breath of courage, and with my two kids cheering me on I (across the room, mind you) aim and squirt insecticide all over that spider. I pretty much annhilate him with insecticide. The thing is, the spider doesn't move. The only movement is from the force of the spray. I ask my son if he is sure that the spider is alive. He assures me that it is, that he felt it move when he touched it. All of this is just too much for me. I tell my mom that it is still alive and can she come over? She says she will, and when I hang up I hysterically start crying. My kids are amazed. I don't usually cry in front of them. And I'm just sobbing. A spider can reduce me to this. Again, I'm not proud.

When my mom arrives, she scuffles up a pot to scoop it up in. She also is amazed at huge this spider is. She cautiously approaches it. As she scoops it into the pot, it lands with a dull thud. All of us rush over to peer inside. What do we see? A plastic spider. At this point my daughter speaks up. "I didn't think I left that spider in that couch!"

Girl Scout Camp

This weekend my daughter went to three days of Girl Scout day camp. I was signed up to go for three days with her. I was set and poised to go through three days of mud, sweat, sun, and fun all for her. She's nine, and this was her first experience with camping. I didn't know how she'd do. Would she fit in? Would she drink enough water? Would she stay with the group? You have to understand that my daughter's a lot like me. While we like to be social, we also like to be alone. We're not your typical girly girl. I think we both have tried to fit in with girls. And there are some girls that like us, but a lot don't either. I just wanted to be sure that she wouldn't be wandering through the day by herself.

But after one day of camping, I was done. I live in Kansas, and let me tell you, it was hot! It was so hot, no human being should be out there. It felt like I had jumped into a pool with my clothes on. It was just gross. I would have endured this if I felt like my daughter needed me. But I saw her purposely hanging back with me, asking me to do things that I knew she could do herself. She was reallly concerned about me and my fitting in. I really felt like this was inhibiting her.

So, when I got up the next morning, I just decided I could not do one more day. When I broke the news to her that she was going to camp without me, she just looked at me and said, okay, shrugging her shoulders. Later, she professed that she was glad I was not going. I asked her why, and she said that now she could walk up front with the girls. I explained to her that she never had to stay with me if I did something as a parent with the group of girls, that I was there for her. I also told her I was glad that she was able to do all of these things without me. I told her my job was to get her ready to go out in the world so that she could go out and shine and just be herself. When she came home that night, I asked her how her day had been. She said it was the best day of her life. I smiled and thought that I must be doing my job if she wanted to go to camp without me.

Honesty

So, as a single mom, sometimes I have to deal with sticky questions from my kids. I have twins, a boy and a girl, who are nine. Every parent has to start answering questions about all kinds of things in life at that age. I am absolutely sure that these questions will only increase as they get older. Tonight we had quite a lengthy conversation about the divorce between their father and myself. They wanted to know how long we had been married, why we got divorced, why I had initiated it. Then we went on to whether I would date or not. Their father is dating. I have not dated at this point. We have been divorced for five years. I would date if someone showed up that I felt was worthy to date, but that hasn't happened. This is just a recent development. For so long, I just felt so wary and exhausted from men. But that's a whole different subject.

As my kids were plying me with these questions, I'm thinking, here we go. Here are all of the questions that I would rather not answer, that I would rather leave in the past. But they seemed ready. So as honestly and age appropriately as I could, I answered their questions. I didn't tell them anymore than what they asked, but I did try to be as honest as I could. I tried to answer from my perspective as unbiased as I could. I tried to do this as respectfully towards their father as I could. They seemed satisfied with what I answered. They had their opinions on the subject, and I let them air those opinions. I always think honesty is the best policy. It's not always the easiest, and I definitely think as they get older it may really not be easy to be open, but it's the best. And I will strive to be as honest as I can. How else can they learn from me?

People Watching at the Pool

One of the things I love to do the most is take my kids to the pool. I have to admit that I am rarely one of those moms who gets in the pool and plays with the kids. I love to take my book, spread my towel out on the chair and read. It is so relaxing. Almost as much fun as reading at the pool is people watching. I think people forget that they are in public when they're at the pool. Maybe it's because you go to the pool in your swimsuit. Let's face it, it's almost like going in your underwear. Some people's swimsuits are even more bare than underwear. Whatever the reason, people just let it all hang out at the pool (literally and figuratively). They just forget that other people can and do see them. I probably do the same thing.

Today, I watched this elegant old lady (She really was old. She was shuffling instead of walking). She was dressed in an Esther Williams-like, black swimsuit. Her gray hair was perfectly coiffed from an era long gone by. And for her age, her body looked really good. She was truly joyful to be there. She was walking by the pool towards her lawn chair when a woman in her late thirties swooped down upon her. This woman was a little heavy set, was wearing a tankini, and her blonde hair was unfashionably braided. She lit into this woman. You could tell that she was furious with this woman. The younger woman pointed towards the direction that the older woman had just come from and strode angrily off. The older woman started shuffling after the younger woman. She did not seem upset. In fact, she forebore this treatment very patiently. She arrived where her daughter (I'm assuming) was busily spreading blankets out on a couple of beach chairs. Then the older woman slowly and elegantly sat down. The younger woman continuted her tirade, gesturing, pacing up and down, getting in the woman's face. Her face became so twisted up with anger that at first I thought she was smiling; and I thought maybe she had been joking with the older woman all along. I realized though, that she had just twisted her face into a horrible, angry grimace. I really could not tell that the older woman had even spoken. There was no gesturing. she did not even move her head. She stared straight ahead with her hands in her lap. But she must have said something, because the younger girl became more and more agitated until she finally sat down in her chair (two seats away from her mother) in exasperation.

Now, at first I thought that the poor, older woman was the victim in all of this. But upon further reflection, I think she was the passive-agressive manipulator. I think that over the years she had honed this quiet way of controlling and making others feel helpless and small. It was something about her manner, the way she was dressed. Even though I thought her daughter was behaving abominably, I think she was desperate and frustrated. Remember, that things aren't always what they seem. In fact, I have found that most of the time, things are almost just opposite of what they seem.