Friday, July 3, 2009

The morning - How it cycles

As seen on mommytalk.com

Coffee, Tea, Pepsi, Coke. More then likely that you have formed an addiction to one of these great things, maybe something more off the line like Dr. Pepper or Mt Dew. In any instance you will fully understand where I am coming from if you are addicted to any of these caffeine filled beverages.

When I wake in the morning my eyes aren't fully open yet. I sorta look like someone that you would steer your children away from out in public. At least until I have had a cup of Jo, Java, Do-it Fluid, also know as coffee. I need the pick up, the bite in the ass to get moving. Things weren't always like this for me. I once rose with the sun, full of energy ready for a days worth of exhilarating activities... you know feeding , diapering, and laying on the floor to entertain during tummy time. Back in those days I was up and at 'em full of spunk.

Just a few short years later though, I am dragging myself down the stairs while listening to the the children pick at each other and fight over the silliest things. Is it the fact that my children are growing, depressing me in some way, am I missing the days of tummy time? What am I saying? Oh my Gawd, No - I am not missing tummy time! That is a thought that creeped out of a brain that hasn't had its recommended dose of Do-it fluid!

I will say that my mornings have evolved over the years. My first adult mornings were spent in bed laying there breathing, my body fused with my then boyfriend /now husband. Fused by the night before sweat and the tangled filled sheets that seemed to imprison our bodies. Next I moved on to my mother's couch were I woke cold and alone most mornings to the sounds of my mothers blow dryer and her aerosol hair spray unloading its pollutants into the atmosphere. (Note: That's where I fell in love with coffee, my mother turned me on to it.) After that brief stay with the my Mom I was wed... and thus bringing me back to the arms of the man I loved. Which in turn brings me to today. All that sweat and those tangled sheets is what brought me to this point where I am dragging my grumpy butt out of bed to tend the children that were created so many years back, all the while longing for a sip of sweet, black coffee.

The days are past that I will just get to ooze with joy at a baby and that will be enough for me to get motivated. Now my mornings are going to be filled with all sorts of kid craziness and then come the teenage years. I don't even what to know how much coffee I am going to need to get through that. I can only imagine that I will get less rest though so I may need more caffeine. After teen years though comes the empty nest.... Just me and the husband... and tangled sheets. That is something to look forward to. Hopefully I won't be needing caffeine to make through the day then.

B is for Bob review

We all have a type of music that really gets to us and makes us move. Engages thoughts with the lyrics and makes us just feel good when we listen to it. For me that would be Bob Marley.

I was struggling with this review because I can't think of a bad thing to say about Bob Marley's music. So what is there to write? I have to have good and bad points in my reviews, don't I?

I love "B is for Bob"! My 4 year old daughter loves Bob as well and she has always enjoyed his music. I think "B is for Bob", that is just hers to listen to, has to be her favorite.

I have to say that I have never heard any of Bob Marley's music that wasn't good for a child, it is all great music, and I could never say a cross word about the man who sang and wrote, what a genius. My children have been listening to Bob Marley since the day they were born... literally, Bob Marley always made me feel so good that he was on the play list in the delivery room.

When I handed the package, that came in the mail, to my sweet four year old she opened it and looked with excitement. The cover has Bob on it with this pretty little scene painted around him with easy to read words "B is for Bob"( I might add that it is an ECO friendly package!) She said "Mommy this is Bob Marley!" I let her load the CD in the computer and she started her listening experience. The very first song "Three Little Birds" is a brilliantly done acoustic version that I have to give mad props to Ziggy for doing. The simpleness of the sound alone is wonderful and I think it lets more attention be paid to the lyrics.

I have to share with you that Liv is quite the dancer and is always moving to music in that little kid jumping and flailing dance move bit that we all see in our pre-schoolers. When the drums of the song "Jamming" came on she planted her feet and began waving her arms slowly with her eyes closed and then her lil 'hips started to sway with the beat I said "Liv what are you doing?" she was actually on beat and seemed focused in her movements she opened her eyes and said "Mommy this is the way the music makes me feel, "sweepy" I joined her in her new dance and told her that some music makes mom feel all "sweepy" too.

Bob Marley's music spans the generations and quite possibly can fill those gaps that seem to be getting wider and wider among us. If your not a fan of Bob Marley this is still a great CD for children or even yourself! My husband wasn't keen on the idea of Bob being remade for children...but he was caught jamming out to Liv's B is for Bob CD. With Bobs messages being about love, unity and peace and empowerment how could it not be a good message to get to your children?

For a chance to win this CD and some other great prizes including and Ipod shuffle be sure to check out the contest thread in the Mommytalk forums!

Share your thoughts here.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Spell Checker!

A while back when I first started working at mommytalk.com I had to take my stabs at writing. I never really did it much,why? Well because this darn problem I have with spelling and getting my thoughts out of my head in the correct order writing just seems to be a lot of work at times for me. It seems to be getting easier and all the neat little methods I have for editing myself aside from running to my good friends Lil'momthatcould and Mouthygirl seem to be working out. And on another note... I really don't care if things aren't perfect. As long as I get my points across!

There was a forum post I read a while back where someone was complaining that she was told that she wouldn't be taken seriously by anyone because she had poor grammar and spelling. I thought on it for a moment and wondered if I wasn't taken seriously because I suffered from the same problems... I still wonder form time to time weather or not people take me seriously. But here again it really doesn't matter to me. If they don't take me seriously then it is their loss.

Do you judge someones input on how they present it or for the content that is presented? Why?

Saturday, May 16, 2009

The Bestest Teacher Ever!

So A few Days ago I was waiting out side my nephews school, He is usually flying out of that school like a bat out of hell and I have to cloths line him to avoid him running strait into the road... But this day he was taking his good old time... I noticed a teacher, Mrs. Brown she was eying me... like... I know this lady... eying me... I having the memory that I have I remembered her from Elem. school she was a 1st grade teacher not mine just one of the other teachers. I said "Hello Mrs. Brown" she nodded and smiled. Then when my nephew came out of the building she said " Lucas who is this lady? Lucas said "this is my Aunt Rachel" As he tugged on my cloths to try and pull me away from the school and towards the parking lot.

I asked Mrs. Brown if my most favorite teacher Miss Barken still worked there at that school... she said "Yes", with a smile then said "this will be her last year, she's retiring." "Oh" I said, "I'll have to make it up here to wish her fair well." I hadn't seen her since I did Kindergarten observations like 8 years ago and then it was only briefly just a fast Hi, how are things in a passing moment.

I feel the need to tell you how very important this women was. She was a fantastic teacher. I'm going to go out on a limb here and let you in on something that not many ppl in my adult life know she was my special education teacher, my Learning Disabilities teacher... But she was more then that to me, she was someone I looked up to some one I knew cared deeply for me. I sat in her class room for 3 yrs starting in 3rd grade and all through 4th and 5th. going between my regular classes back and forth every day. I watched how she helped each and every child that was in her class room how she always went that extra mile for them giving hugs and smiles to lift sprites and singing songs and even rapping... as corny as that sounds... she was fantastic!


I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me and how I think she helped make me into who I am today. She was the most positive influence in my life during those years it was right after my folks got a divorce. Things just weren't pretty for me, She made the grey skies clear up!

I wanted to let her know that I never forgot anything ever... I never forgot that she loved chocolate, and she had all the sweet fruit smelling markers in the world in a cup on her desk, I never forgot all the times she reminded me that I could be what ever I wanted in life and that having a disability didn't mean I wasn't smart. I needed reminded of that alot for some reason kids reminded me all the time that I was in the sped classes and when your a kid those words can hurt. She made me spelling tapes were she would spell out all twenty of my words on a tape recorder 3 times each every week she made me those tapes. She made those tapes for each student we were all on different levels. I'll never forget that she took me to the ballet during the summer and to a fancy dinner that I had to wear a dress to. She took me to see a movie too at the theater, things like that didn't happen in my house with my mom we didn't have money for those sorts of things. She hooked me up with a pen pal too whose name was the same as mine and we were the same age. Fun times.

She nurtured my love for reading and challenged me to read all the time. In Fifth grade I read the most books out of any other 5th grader in the school. She lent me her copies Anne of Green Gables and A Blue Eyed Daisy which is still on my all time favorite list. For a kid who couldn't spell to save her life I could read like no other and by the time I was in the 6th grade I was reading things like Steven King.. and Poe. I don't know if she would have approved that reading material but she wasn't my teacher anymore and I didn't read that stuff at school anyway only at home. At school I read what was suggested.

As a rebelling teenager I was having issues in my freshmen year. My mother called the BOE and asked if they could get a message to Miss Barken ...My mother knew that this teacher had an effect on me so thought Miss Barken might tutor me for a small fee. And she did. Weekly she would come over and help me with some homework and teach me studying methods. At this point in my life I was a bitter, hateful, grungy pot smoking, teenager, who hated anything that had to do with adults and conforming... So one day I decided to tell her that I didn't want her to help me out any more. My mom was at work so she couldn't stop me so I just said I didn't want to be tutored any more. Miss Barken got into her teal blue car and drove away as I sat perched on the kitchen window sill smoking a Marlboro menthol. I thought for a moment that I may have hurt her feelings but at that time I didn't really care.

I care now though and feel horrible about it. I wanted her to know how fantastic she was. So I got her a card, and I wrote her a letter and personally delivered it to her class room at the end of the day on Friday. You should have seen her face when I walked through the door... She still looks the same minus the hair...Perms were in way back then...thank goodness they aren't now her hair is still the same soft golden color and she still has the same huge smile and warm eyes... Her hug felt the same, safe and loving, Her voice was the same as well. She was setting at a half circle table in a nearly empty room just two children sat with her at that table. (the others were in gym) She teaches regular classes now, but those two children setting at the table they needed something...they needed what she was giving...they needed that lift, that extra mile, that push, that smile and those hugs they needed her!

Friday, March 13, 2009

The worst experience I have had in a long time just happened to me. I was driving home from my sons school I was taking his friend home...you know, car pool stuff. I was driving up the road right next to the school one block over and there was a bunch of kids in the road walking it took them a while to get out of the road and when they did they stopped on the curb. Now mind you while I was driving behind them the boys in the back seat were paying attention and making note they they could see the underpants of two of the boys. These older boys were not just bustin a sag their pants where around their ankles and they were hollering at two girls on a porch near by.

The boys stopped on the curb to talk with the girls. When I got to them I stopped the car and rolled down my window and said "hey sweety, I just want to let you know that there are two little boys in the back seat of this car looking at you" before I could continue telling him I wanted him to know that they were going remember that experience and hopefully wouldn't repeat it when they got older. This young boy couldn't have been no more the 14 started cussing and screaming at me."fuck you, fuck you white Bitch" Fuck you! I'll show you my fuckin ass! fuck you" Fuckin white bitch. I began to shake literally I was pissed off. how could any child have the balls big enough to speak to any adult this way.

All the while there was a girl with them saying chill out, chill out... and I was trying to let him know I wasn't being angry with him... I was speaking to him in the best cool mom tone I could. That girl got yelled at too he told her "fuck you, fuck that" Part of me wants to give that kid a hug he prolly needs one. The other part of me wants to find his mom and drag his lil fanny home to her for a butt whoopin' wonder if she would punish him for being so disrespectful to an adult and the girls he was in the presents of. Before I gave up and started to drive away one of the boys picked up a rock and threw it at the side door of the van the one the boys sat behind, behind the tented glass looking at that behavior of those older boys.

I feel like I shouldn't have even bothered, My husband said I was crazy for even stopping, I grew up in a neighborhood much like the one my sons school sets in I am not afraid of what is there and the behaviors are like there. When I grew up I got my butt beat for behavior like that. Not that I ever walked around with my pants to my ankles...But I do remember being disrespectful to an adult once... you now when I got home I walked right into a back hand in the mouth... God, I love my mother:)

MY husband says I should just give up on our neighborhood being a community, I can't though. It takes a village!

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Thirty things I believe.

Thirty things I believe I got this amazing link form a amazing friend. It has inspired me to write down just thirty things I believe in.

I believe in love at first site!
I believe that miracles happen daily
I believe your words can change your life
i believe prayer works
I believe in God and his son
I believe that nothing is impossible
I believe the only way to fail is to give up.
I believe in peace
I believe we can all heal
I believe that smiles and laughter are the best medicines
I believe small children and babies are great judges of character
I believe I can make a difference
I believe that you will reap what you sow
I believe in my self
I believe that mothers have an incredible amount of stength
I believe that all you really need is love
I believe my children will make a brighter future for their children
I believe things would be better if love ruled the world and not money
I believe rain is the greatest gift
I believe that children are special
I believe that the eyes really are the window to the soul
I believe I matter
I believe that life all of it should be valued
I believe that we should respect and love every ones differences
I believe that fear breeds for hate
I believe that music speaks to your soul
I believe that music can change your mood
I believe in wishing on stars
I believe outside is the best place to be
I believe we can make a difference

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

2 a.m. I was awakened by the sounds of a child heaving vomit from her stomach out of her mouth down the side of her bunk bed and on to the floor. I swear it felt like I just feel asleep. So I do the rub, rub, rub the back and scoop the puking mess of a sweet angel off her bunk and head for the RR all the while the Dh is frantically trying to find a cup of for water and the trusty puke bucket. He asked me with all seriousness "why do our kids always get sick?" Like I freakin know. Because they are kids and attend school, maybe... Maybe he mated with some unhealthy beast of a women whose children have less then optimal immune systems. Maybe we eat unhealthy foods or our home is polluted with toxic chemicals that make it easier for the ick that our children are allergic to fester. Hell I don't know why they get sick its two a freakin clock in the morning!

I get us all cleaned up and we make our way to the sick room also know as the living room. When ever someone is sick we set up shop in the living room in the lazy boy that is easy to wipe. If more vomit gets extruded from this lil body it will be easy to clean up. yes, sir that was my plan.

I have my cell phone with me for an alarm so I can wake the husband for work and get the boy child off to school. Not that I needed it cause I didn't sleep much after that. She was dealing with the dry heaves for sometime and then just became restless, tossing and turning. My alarm went off and I got disgusted... grrr... I marched up stairs sat on the side of my bed and began to beg my husband to wake up... literally... the sooner he wakes the sooner I can lay back down, right... Not so. My persistent cries "please , please , please, wake up honey I want to sleep for another hour before B gets up.

Knock , knock... "Mommy, is it time for school? It would appear that my cries woke up the boy child and not his father ... Sigh... Yes, go get your cloths and I'll iron them. I put a lil pressure on my husbands leg and he lets out a little peep of a whine... That sent me over the edge...I shouted WTF and and stormed out of the room like a 3 yr old having a temper tantrum. I am just so sick and freakin tired of having to wake up my 30 yr old husband every single day it takes so much out of me first thing in the morning. Like getting hit with a big ball of negative energy. He lays there simi awake and knows how irritated it makes me that he just lays there yet wont respond or even try and move until every last bit of morning goodness I have is gone and he has me totally pissed off or just sad that I let him take that much out of me... I'm sure he can hear it in my voice. ppl this isn't like a five min wake thing this last for nearly an hour every morning. god help me! and I had no sleep!

By this time all the children are awake, the sweet angel who was a hot vomit mess last night so needed to sleep in but her bestest bud and cousin who lives with us thought she would wake her to check on her as she slept peacefully in the living room. How thoughtful... Now every one is up and ready for the morning chaos.

Husband out the door, Niece off to visit Opa and her mother, and the boy off to school...sigh... O and I still in our Pj's it's 9 a.m. let's take a nap. I drift in and out of sleep while she lays next to me watching cartoons for nearly 4 hours. I don't know if she ever drifted off if she did it must not have been for long cause the sweet angel crashed at 8 sharp tonight. Hopefully no puke tonight. fingers crossed.