Monday, June 30, 2008
New tooth
We were in line at a Babies R Us buying our little one a new exersaucer when I noticed a little white spot on her gum. I felt around and sure enough, she's cut her first tooth. I announced it to my hubby and our oldest, and I was so pleased to see how excited her big sister got at this little milestone. I knew I had a good girl.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Thanks, teach!
My daughter recently finished first grade. I can't believe how quickly the school year went. When I think back to the first days and how much she struggled, it's amazing to see how far she's come. That first report card was less-than-perfect, and I remember how devastated she was by that. But we, as a family, were lucky that she had such a wonderful teacher. She kept in constant communication with us through parent-teacher conferences and e-mails. She also made every effort to greet each child with a hug at the door in the morning and a few words to the parents as the kids were being dropped off.
When my daughter would come home from school, she was always in a good mood. I'd listen to her talk about her day and laugh when some funny, new saying would come out of her mouth. When I'd ask where she learned that, she'd always say it was her teacher. Then there were times at dinner or at bed, when she would call me by her teacher's name. She'd catch herself then blush or grin widely. I guess she was trying to make sure that I didn't get jealous. I never did. It always made me feel relieved that she was obviously loved and well taken care of during the day.
As the final days of school were approaching, I began the count down. When it got down to the final two days, she insisted that there were four days left not two. We went back and forth on this, and then I finally asked her why she kept saying that there were four. She said it was because she wasn't ready to leave her teacher yet. I assured her that she would have a good teacher in second grade. I wasn't sure if that helped or not.
Well, the last day finally came. The children were given autograph books to sign, and my daughter brought hers because she realized her teacher hadn't signed it yet. When it was time to go, she walked up to her teacher and asked her to sign it. I watched my little girl fighting back the tears. And the more she fought it, the harder they came. I don't really like to cry in front of my daughter because she's a sensitive little kid. She doesn't like to see anyone cry. But this time, I couldn't help it either. She and her teacher rested their heads against each other as she wrote in the book.
The message said: You are my `sweet angel.' I love you and will miss you. Please come see me.
And she signed her name. Then she gave my daughter the biggest hug.
Her teacher came to me and hugged me earlier and told me how much she loved my daughter and what a great kid she is. And that's always nice to hear, but seeing how much love there was between those two made me realize how hard it was for my daughter to let go.
As we walked to the car, she sobbed about how unfair it was to have to say goodbye to her. She told me that she dreamed of having a teacher like her and now that she had her she didn't want to say goodbye. I don't ever remember feeling that way about any of my teachers growing up. I told her that we would write to her this summer and in the fall she could bring her an apple on the first day of school. I also looked that cutie in the face and wiped away her tears and told her, `You know, you crying like this is the reason teachers and the people you meet love you so much. You're a great kid.'
I think that helped.
When we came home, I set her up with an e-mail account and she wrote to her teacher that afternoon with promises to write to her often this summer. I know that's a promise and a friendship she's going to keep forever.
When my daughter would come home from school, she was always in a good mood. I'd listen to her talk about her day and laugh when some funny, new saying would come out of her mouth. When I'd ask where she learned that, she'd always say it was her teacher. Then there were times at dinner or at bed, when she would call me by her teacher's name. She'd catch herself then blush or grin widely. I guess she was trying to make sure that I didn't get jealous. I never did. It always made me feel relieved that she was obviously loved and well taken care of during the day.
As the final days of school were approaching, I began the count down. When it got down to the final two days, she insisted that there were four days left not two. We went back and forth on this, and then I finally asked her why she kept saying that there were four. She said it was because she wasn't ready to leave her teacher yet. I assured her that she would have a good teacher in second grade. I wasn't sure if that helped or not.
Well, the last day finally came. The children were given autograph books to sign, and my daughter brought hers because she realized her teacher hadn't signed it yet. When it was time to go, she walked up to her teacher and asked her to sign it. I watched my little girl fighting back the tears. And the more she fought it, the harder they came. I don't really like to cry in front of my daughter because she's a sensitive little kid. She doesn't like to see anyone cry. But this time, I couldn't help it either. She and her teacher rested their heads against each other as she wrote in the book.
The message said: You are my `sweet angel.' I love you and will miss you. Please come see me.
And she signed her name. Then she gave my daughter the biggest hug.
Her teacher came to me and hugged me earlier and told me how much she loved my daughter and what a great kid she is. And that's always nice to hear, but seeing how much love there was between those two made me realize how hard it was for my daughter to let go.
As we walked to the car, she sobbed about how unfair it was to have to say goodbye to her. She told me that she dreamed of having a teacher like her and now that she had her she didn't want to say goodbye. I don't ever remember feeling that way about any of my teachers growing up. I told her that we would write to her this summer and in the fall she could bring her an apple on the first day of school. I also looked that cutie in the face and wiped away her tears and told her, `You know, you crying like this is the reason teachers and the people you meet love you so much. You're a great kid.'
I think that helped.
When we came home, I set her up with an e-mail account and she wrote to her teacher that afternoon with promises to write to her often this summer. I know that's a promise and a friendship she's going to keep forever.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Happy Mother's Day
The best gift I got today was a simple letter my oldest gave me and I'd like to share it with you.
My favorite thing about my mother is her kiss!!!!!!!
My least favorite thing is nothing.
The funniest thing is her laugh.
My mother laughs when I tickle her.
My mother cries when I am hurt.
I never get mad.
I love her because she loves me!
Hope this made you feel as good as it made me feel. Happy Mother's Day all!
My favorite thing about my mother is her kiss!!!!!!!
My least favorite thing is nothing.
The funniest thing is her laugh.
My mother laughs when I tickle her.
My mother cries when I am hurt.
I never get mad.
I love her because she loves me!
Hope this made you feel as good as it made me feel. Happy Mother's Day all!
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
The best book
One of my daughter's favorite bedtime stories is `Just in Case You Ever Wonder' by Max Lucado. It's been a family favorite for nearly seven years. It was given to me by a former employer as a baby shower gift and it's the best gift we've ever gotten. It still gets me a little choked up each time I read it to her because the declaration of love is almost is strong as the love I feel for that child. It just makes me thankful and grateful for the children I have every day.
A few good men
I've never been athletically-inclined. Never had any interest in anything have to do with sports or breaking a sweat for that matter. So last year when my daughter decided she wanted to try soccer, I was supportive but not overly thrilled. I had a feeling that it would be a disaster. I didn't see myself as a `soccer mom' and to be honest my beautiful daughter is no Mia Hamm.
My daughter just finished her second season with her team. A lot happened over just a few short weeks. She got better. She's not as skilled as some of the other players, but she definitely showed improvement. She wasn't afraid to fall down or take a hit like she used to. Sure, she's still a delicate flower compared to a lot of her teammates, but she didn't fall apart over a skinned knee the way she used to. She even scored her first goal in one of the last games. That was a real highlight.
But more than all of that, she learned to have fun. She learned that winning was great, but it wasn't everything. She learned about communication and being unselfish. She realized that having blowout wins over a team were nice, but they weren't as much fun as working hard together in a low-scoring loss. And she didn't learn any of those things from us, she learned them from her coaches.
I've got to say for our family's first experience with kids sports, we totally lucked out. Her coaches are a father-in-law/son-in-law team who work extremely well together. Every practice is a positive experience for my daughter. I never had to worry about dragging her there. She looked forward to going. She lived for those high fives from the coaches when she did something well. And their attitude poured over to her teammates as well. All the girls are very supportive of one another. All of them know that my daughter has to try a little harder than most, but they're all the first to pat her on the back or come over to me to tell me what a good job she's doing.
When the season ended, her coach had some lovely words to say about my daughter. He talked about what a good listener she was and how hard she works to do her best. But above all, he noted how she always wins everyone's heart. As a mom, there's no greater praise. And for her, that meant everything. When we got home for her end-of-the-season party, my husband found her crying in her room. We realized that she was crying because the season was over and she wasn't going to get a chance to see her coaches or her friends. We told her that we would make every effort to see them over the summer and fall was going to be here before she knew it. We also reassured her by saying that she could play soccer as long as she wanted, and she would see her coaches again. That made her feel better.
So I just want to thank those coaches for proving me wrong about sports and showing her that there's more to sports than winning and losing. She's learned some valuable lessons and there's nothing greater than that.
My daughter just finished her second season with her team. A lot happened over just a few short weeks. She got better. She's not as skilled as some of the other players, but she definitely showed improvement. She wasn't afraid to fall down or take a hit like she used to. Sure, she's still a delicate flower compared to a lot of her teammates, but she didn't fall apart over a skinned knee the way she used to. She even scored her first goal in one of the last games. That was a real highlight.
But more than all of that, she learned to have fun. She learned that winning was great, but it wasn't everything. She learned about communication and being unselfish. She realized that having blowout wins over a team were nice, but they weren't as much fun as working hard together in a low-scoring loss. And she didn't learn any of those things from us, she learned them from her coaches.
I've got to say for our family's first experience with kids sports, we totally lucked out. Her coaches are a father-in-law/son-in-law team who work extremely well together. Every practice is a positive experience for my daughter. I never had to worry about dragging her there. She looked forward to going. She lived for those high fives from the coaches when she did something well. And their attitude poured over to her teammates as well. All the girls are very supportive of one another. All of them know that my daughter has to try a little harder than most, but they're all the first to pat her on the back or come over to me to tell me what a good job she's doing.
When the season ended, her coach had some lovely words to say about my daughter. He talked about what a good listener she was and how hard she works to do her best. But above all, he noted how she always wins everyone's heart. As a mom, there's no greater praise. And for her, that meant everything. When we got home for her end-of-the-season party, my husband found her crying in her room. We realized that she was crying because the season was over and she wasn't going to get a chance to see her coaches or her friends. We told her that we would make every effort to see them over the summer and fall was going to be here before she knew it. We also reassured her by saying that she could play soccer as long as she wanted, and she would see her coaches again. That made her feel better.
So I just want to thank those coaches for proving me wrong about sports and showing her that there's more to sports than winning and losing. She's learned some valuable lessons and there's nothing greater than that.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
EOM
The husband and I are very fond of communicating by e-mail. Sometimes we even argue by it. Yes, I know it's not the healthiest form of communication in the world, but you do what you have to do to get your point across. But I digress...
Well, the other day I was walking out of his home office on the way to my daughter's room to help her with her guitar practice and some school work. As I walked out I noticed this huge wet area in our entry way. His dog's weak bladder was at work again. I told the hubby about it and he didn't make any moves from his office chair to clean it up. I told him that I was busy with our oldest and he said, he'd `clean it up later.' My husband operates on his own time schedule so I know that could mean two hours later. I was getting plenty ticked, so I grabbed an old towel and just laid it in the entry way. I know he saw me, but still he didn't move.
Our oldest and I finished her guitar practice and her school work. I came back later and the towel was STILL in the entry way. Now, I was beyond peeved. I asked him if he was waiting for me to clean it up and he said, `well, you are the housewife.' Then he said, he would do it and to quit asking him about it. Usually this kind of behavior leads to a Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, but I kept my mouth shut since our daughter was still within earshot but getting ready for bed. So, I got onto our other computer and sent him an e-mail. He asked if it was something he wanted to read. I told him it was because it was funny. I insisted that he read it now.
Here's what he found in his subject line:
You're a putz (EOM).
We both burst out laughing. Gotta say that was the best way I've ever ended an argument.
Well, the other day I was walking out of his home office on the way to my daughter's room to help her with her guitar practice and some school work. As I walked out I noticed this huge wet area in our entry way. His dog's weak bladder was at work again. I told the hubby about it and he didn't make any moves from his office chair to clean it up. I told him that I was busy with our oldest and he said, he'd `clean it up later.' My husband operates on his own time schedule so I know that could mean two hours later. I was getting plenty ticked, so I grabbed an old towel and just laid it in the entry way. I know he saw me, but still he didn't move.
Our oldest and I finished her guitar practice and her school work. I came back later and the towel was STILL in the entry way. Now, I was beyond peeved. I asked him if he was waiting for me to clean it up and he said, `well, you are the housewife.' Then he said, he would do it and to quit asking him about it. Usually this kind of behavior leads to a Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, but I kept my mouth shut since our daughter was still within earshot but getting ready for bed. So, I got onto our other computer and sent him an e-mail. He asked if it was something he wanted to read. I told him it was because it was funny. I insisted that he read it now.
Here's what he found in his subject line:
You're a putz (EOM).
We both burst out laughing. Gotta say that was the best way I've ever ended an argument.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Enough of Mileygate!!!!
You know, I blame `Dancing with the Stars' for this Miley/Vanity Fair scandal being dragged out this far. If DWTS hadn't brought Donnie and Marie Osmond back into the spotlight, no one would give a rat's patooty about what they think of the teen queen's pics. Enough already!!!! This story has been dissected from every angle. Yes, as a parent I'm disppointed that my daughter's favorite singer did this, but it's time to move on!!
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