Thanksgiving reminder

All too often people tend to focus on what is lacking in their lives: money, a fancy car, respect or a nicer home. In short there is a lot of complaining in this world. Whining and belly aching do little to instill change or to get you the things you want. It will just serve you up a nice tension headache and take your focus off all the blessings you have in your life. Worse yet, your complaining just might be contagious and could cause others to join in the chorus-- thus causing a national migraine.

This is why I love Thanksgiving Day. It is the one day of the year when people are supposed to forget about their desires and afflictions and focus on their blessings. It is also the one day when families are practically mandated to sit down for dinner and look at one another. Sometimes people are so busy, they don’t stop to look and listen. If we did, maybe there would be less complaining and more understanding. Maybe there would be more reasons to love and celebrate the gifts that we have. Sometimes it is easy to forget that the most precious gifts aren’t material.
You can’t buy them. Well, you can’t buy authentic ones-- friends and family. But it is also strange that many of us often take these most precious gifts for granted. Fortunately, true friends and family are also the most forgiving. They are the shoulders we cry on when things go wrong, the ears we vent to when we are really mad and the eyes we smile at when things are just right.

May today be a “just right kind of day.”

I am blessed to live a small, quaint community that is relatively safe and that pulls together during times of need. I am blessed to have a family that cherishes me even when I am not so charitable or forgiving. I am blessed to be able to complain and to want and to celebrate my triumphs in life. I am blessed to have family and friends and a day that celebrates them all.

Another day, another-- well, another day

First of all, thanks to all of you who gave me some absolutely fabulous advice on the parent-teacher fiasco. I really am trying to become more positive because if I get an attitude about her school and her teacher, Maggie will pick up on it and get one too. It would be my greatest pleasure that she remain oblivious to my struggle with her teacher.

I've decided to meet with the principal and her teacher to discuss ways in which my daughter is best handled. A third, impartial authority would be good-- as it will help keep both of us from getting defensive. Plus, I'm enrolling her in Sylvan for help with her math-- that way she'll gain some confidence and succeed (without having to struggle with me:)

I do have good news. My husband was able to get Thanksgiving off-- an absolute gift to the kids. Each evening at dinner and before bed, my little ones pray for daddy to come home soon (and it just about breaks my heart), so they are on cloud nine because he was only gone three days this week instead of 4-5!

Also my mother called this morning with the best gift ever-- a weekend away without any kids or my husband (whom I love dearly, but he is not a shopper and this is a Mommy-daughter shopping trip!!!!) And so, I'm flying out to my home state of Texas for six glorious days and shopping, relaxing and having fun. I so need this. I get so depressed during the holidays because my family is a family of shoppers--and my husband is not. He is allergic to stores. And so, I have no one to shop with out here-- and I get so sad wandering the malls and looking at things with no one but my checkbook and a snooty sales person to talk to. Yes, I walk into Nordstrom's and actually hope a sales clerk asks if I need anything because I always answer an enthusiastic "yes" and then proceed to make her shop with me. I know, it's pathetic, but shopping alone is so depressing.

But this post is about the good stuff and I've got plenty of it. I spent the day sewing and made my little ladies some new PJs-- now I'm working on these scarves that look like stuffed animals choking the lives out of the wearers.

Have a great Thanksgiving-- if I don't get a chance to post again or visit blogs before Thursday.

I'm out of the corner

I thought I'd update you all on my "terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day." Well, it turned out the conference wasn't too bad. This doesn't mean I am entirely pleased, but I can understand a few things from the teacher's standpoint.

The fact is my daughter is a day dreamer. I will agree with that. She also misinterprets "finish your work" to mean "hurry up and get it done." I see that in her for sure.

And what I decide to do with the school remains to be seen. We discussed ways of handling the situation, and if things get better, Maggie will stay. If not, I will home school-- which could be a disaster in itself because she definitely doesn't want to listen to me.

I am still angry about the hair, but it was me that had it cut-- not the teacher-- so I have to take responsibility for that decision. All the teacher did was make me feel nuts. Plus, I need to find some way to help Maggie handle her dad's long absences from home because that is definitely an area where her teacher doesn't "get it."

Well, that is enough for now. I was a little upset this morning. I feel better now, but I still have my eyes on her teacher. For most students she is probably a great teacher. Other parents love her, but I'm not her biggest fan. Oh well, I'm trying to be positive and teach my daughter to learn from this situation-- and to see where she can improve (because there is definitely room for that).

Excuse me while I suck my thumb

Bah Humbug, but this is going to be a doozie of a day! I am preparing for what could be a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day, but who knows maybe I'll catch a break, the clouds will clear and the sunshine will pour into my world.

This morning at 8 a.m. I have my first major parent-teacher conference of the year. I say, major conference because my conferences with this teacher are so frequent that I must now rate them by level of seriousness. Lucky me, I've been meeting with said teacher every Thursday since the beginning of school so we can "discuss Maggie." This is one reason I've been MIA in bloggerspace.

Now you might think my Maggie must be a trouble maker, a mouthy child, a downright "at-risk" child to warrant so many conferences, but truth be told, she's a pretty good kid. She's empathetic, sweet, outgoing and smart. She's also a touch hyper and easily distracted-- though not to the point where it interferes with her work.

So what pray tell is this teacher's problem with my daughter? Maggie is a hair-chewer. It's a nervous habit brought on by a hatred of math. The more math you serve this child, the "crunchier" her hair becomes. I have tried nasty tasting hairspray, french braiding it and putting it up in topsy tails, but the child becomes so nervous she rips out the hairstyles and commences with her comfort food. Now, the more said teacher complains about Maggie's little habit, the more nervous she becomes and the more she chews.

My teacher's solution: move Maggie next to a kid with ADHD. Maggie cannot take distractions. She asked to be moved because this kid was destroying her school supplies. Her teacher told her to deal with it. And so Maggie became even more nervous and had trouble focusing in school. Her math skills deteriorated-- as did her confidence. And so, her teacher kept her in from recess so she could work on her math-- only no one was actually helping Maggie. She just sat in room all by herself and counted her fingers and toes.

My solution: after weeks of arguing with the teacher and explaining Maggie's home situation, I cut off my baby's beautiful (and I mean beautiful) long, blonde hair. Her hair was so beautiful; it looked fake. I know I should have fought like a mother bear-- I did. But in the long run, I was worn down. I had too many things to deal with and my daughter's hair was one thing I could control. Cut it off and the lady will shut up.

Now magically, her teacher has discovered that Maggie has trouble in math and needs help-- oh and that her classmate is a distraction.

I'd like to give that woman a refresher in listening skills (among other things).

And so today, I get to meet with said lady-- and my husband is stuck on duty so all three kids get to come along-- this should be fun!

I'd pull her from the school, but it is the best one on the Ridge. In the long run though it might not be the best one for my daughter, so I may end up pulling her out and homeschooling her.

Spoiled rotten

That's right. I am spoiled beyond all hope, and though I try to dissuade those who love me from continuing with this immense amount of spoilage-- they just won't stop (not that I am really complaining-- I just don't want to turn green and fall apart). But alas, I am out of luck.

My dilemma started in August when my couch started taking people hostage. Yes, you needed a come-a-long to hoist you out. Then mysterious things started happening. My couch became a consumer of socks and other small articles of clothing-- library books too. If I did laundry and forgot about the booby-trapped nature of my couch, I'd have to flip the couch over and dig the socks out. I know you all think I'm kidding, but the sad truth is I actually had to cut a slit in the bottom of my couch so I could dig the socks out (somehow they'd ended up inside it). Then the springs in the couch cushions finally won their freedom and tried to make a run for the living room. This was the last straw I needed new furniture.

All summer I searched for the perfect set. I found plenty that would work, but I had trouble committing to them. You see, I'd fall in love with the colors and the squishiness of the cushions, but I couldn't bring myself to sign the check-- because I knew one thing was true: it would ultimately live in my house with my children. No decent self-respecting piece of high quality furniture should be subjected to the likes of my little girls.

And so, I looked all summer. I measured the length and the width of couches and quaint little chairs all summer and never bought a thing.

My husband came home and discovered that our rug had become two-dimensional and was now flat like a pancake.

Now during this time, a local swanky furniture store was going out of business and was full of deals that were not so great. I'd drooled over just about every couch in the building. Two days before the business closed its doors forever, I asked my husband to please look at this couch and tell me it was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. I just needed him to say it. Tell me I'm impractical for liking the chairs too-- and the Pakistani handmade rug. tell me its all disgusting and completely unsuited for our house.

What did he do? He bought the whole lot -- and told me I'd have to wait on my 10-year-anniversary ring because I was currently sitting on the money he'd saved up to buy it.

And so, I am feeling completely spoiled-- and now a touch braggy-- I'm sorry about that one, but it is so nice to be able to sit down without getting poked in the tushy.