Of Skeletons and Creative Thinking
A couple weeks ago, I bought adorable Halloween pajamas for Lil C. They are pink and when worn in the dark, you can see a glow in the dark skeleton, complete with a sparkly pink heart. They're adorable and more importantly, the kid really needed some new pajamas.
I brought them home and was so excited to show them to her, but my excitement quickly faded. She hated them. She said, "I'm NOT wearing bones."
Awesome.
So, I kept trying for two weeks. Finally, two nights ago, after being super fried from being alone with the girls all week while Mr. BBM is away, I refused to get off the floor and go find her another pair of pajamas. So, I flipped them around so she couldn't see the skeletons and asked her if she wanted to wear her new pretty pink jammies.
"Yes," she exclaimed with excitement. She asked me when I bought her new jammies, but I ignored her and helped her put them on. . . backwards, careful not to show her the bones.
It was when I put the shirt on her that she noticed something was up. The baggy butt area in the backwards pants didn't clue her in prior to this. She saw a white something on the backs of the arms as I was straightening them out and asked me what they were.
"Oh those? Those are pretty white bows. Isn't that cool that you have pretty white bows all down your jammies?" She said yes, grinned ear to ear and went happily to sleep.
The next morning, I asked her how she liked sleeping in her pink jammies. She said, "I love them." It was then that I took her into the dark powder room and showed her the glowing skeleton on the back of her pants and shirt.
"What?" she yelled, and then she looked right at me, cracked up laughing and said, "Mommy, you tricked me!"
I asked her if she was going to wear them again and she said, "Yes, I like my geleton jammies now." This morning, I went to work and my Mom was here when Lil C woke up in her backwards skeleton jammies. She doesn't mind that they have skeletons on them now, but she's still going to wear them backwards.
Sometimes you just have to think out of the box. Backwards is clearly the way to go.
Foreshadowing Different
Last week, we had a play date at our house. One of the Mom's saw a fleece blanket that was passed down to Lil C from Big I and she held it up and started telling me about the story the blanket is based on. Apparently, there's a book out there and the whole theme is that it's ok to be different. The Mom started saying some of the lines from the book. "It's ok to have crazy hair." "It's ok to wear glasses." etc. Big I received the blanket as a gift from her grandfather years ago, but I just thought it was a random blanket. I had no idea about the story behind it. I had no idea it was about to foreshadow our weekend.
Flash forward to this past weekend.
We had a birthday party to go to for a 5-year old on the street. She loves fashion so she had a fashion themed birthday party. The Mom went all out and created a dressing room and a run-way. There were two fashion shows during the course of the party. It was a lot of fun.
Both of my girls brought two outfits to change into and of course, they were both princess or fairy costumes. They were having a fantastic time.
It was after the second fashion show though, that I noticed that Big I was not being herself. I took her back in the dressing area to help her change and she was obviously upset about something. She didn't want to tell me, but I kind of forced it out of her. Apparently, she was being made fun of by a couple other girls who are around her age. She saw them pointing at her and laughing from the corner as she danced on the runway with another 5-year old friend of hers. She also heard them saying how "babyish" she was for dancing with the little kids and for wearing a Jasmine costume. This taunting continued throughout the party. Another kid told her she dances weird, but that didn't stop her from continuing to dance with her friends. She tried to shake it off and most people would not have known anything was wrong, but when we got home, she was clearly bothered.
The reason she was being picked on is the exact reason why Moms on this street love Big I. Although a 3rd grader, she can instantly transform herself into the perfect play date, no matter what. One day she'll be building an airplane out of tunnels, tubes and a play globe. The next day, she's a pirate on a play set ship. What's so cool about her is that she can get everyone involved in her different scenarios and everyone seems to have a good time. She plays with kids on our street that range in age from a couple months old to a 7th grader; and she gets along with all of them equally well. She is a neat kid, and I'm not just saying that because I brought her into this world. Ask anyone who knows her; they'll tell you the same.
I know how it feels to be picked on. What girl doesn't know this feeling at some point in their lives? And girls, they can be brutal. So I knew we had to talk about it.
I sat Big I on the sofa with me last night and put my arms around her. I told her about how much other kids love her, and how their parents do too. I told her not to get caught up in what other people think about her. I told her that the only thing that matters is what kind of person she is and how she feels about herself. I asked her if she had a good time, and she did. I asked her if she thought it would be more fun to dance with the little kids or sit in the corner and make fun of people. She picked dancing. I asked her if she thought it would be more fun to dance (even if you do dance a little weird) or sit in the corner and make fun of other people dancing. She chose dancing. I told her she has her whole life to grow up and act grown-up and that if she likes dressing up and playing with the little kids, she should do that for as long as possible. I gave her a hug that I hoped would squash all those yucky feelings and told her to think about what a good time she had with her little friends. Personally, I am thrilled that my daughter acts her young age of eight. Kids grow up entirely too fast these days.
This morning, I sent her off to school wearing a witch hat because it's crazy hat day. There wasn't a single other kid wearing a hat at the bus stop, but she walked up there with her two foot high hat on with a smile on her face. She loves spirit week.
When I came back inside, I found a little sign she had made last night. She took foam fish and dolphins and other sea creatures and made them look different. She drew hair on the one fish and lines on the one dolphin. She then wrote on it, "Different is Good!"
She is so very right. Different is good.
9th Kyu in the House
On Wednesday night, Big I was promoted to 9th kyu in Danzan Ryu Ju-jutsu. The week before, she tested and it was so awesome. It was a very serious event and she did quite well. At one point she had to do a hip throw and she did a great job.
Here's her partner, taking her down with a wrist escape.
She was tested on the basic ju-jutsu foundations like breakfalls and rolls, and then demonstrated various techniques for getting out of a finger hold, wrist grabs, lapel grabs and chokes, etc. Here she is doing a hip throw.
And here's some actual video of it happening. . .
If pride had the physical properties of helium, I would have been taking photographs from the ceiling. Here she is with her proud little sister right after testing.
The big reveal. Sensei removes the blue tape from his gi.
Getting striped. . .
The assistant instructor and all around cool guy, giving Big I her congratulations. . .
The new promotee's. Check out those grins. Check out those blue stripes!!!
I am so proud of her and so happy she's found the martial art that is right for her. It's the one thing she looks forward to doing all the time and she frequently talks about how much she loves it.
If she can throw people now, just imagine what she'll be able to do by dating age. . .
Compliments for Me-Actual Learning for Them
I could easily give my students an article or something to read as a class to teach them the skill of outlining. But I don't. Finding an article they would all find interesting, something they could all relate to, is practically impossible. So I do the same thing every year. I write this on the board. . .
"Mrs. BBM is SO awesome."
They chuckle and share some private jokes for a couple seconds. Then I ask them to fill in the details in the form of a graphic organizer. Last year, they were very funny details. This year they were super flattering!
The kids told me I was a "snazzy dresser," and that I had "great hair," and perhaps the best compliments of all were the ones they placed under "great personality," and "funny." They added details under each category like "cute shoes," and "bombshell blonde," and "stylish haircut." When we were finished I had an entire chalkboard full of compliments that any girl would love.
Then we turned our graphic organizer of Mrs. BBM awesomeness into an outline. And I could hear the light bulbs clicking on. They get it now. They really get it.
When I was finished getting flattered, we had a rough draft workshop. I was making the rounds and sitting in on groups, and adding my two cents here and there. And then I got to this one particular girl and her paper on the abuse of animals in the entertainment industry. It absolutely blew me away. I've been telling them that in this argumentative essay, they need to find their voices. But still, I see what they've written and it is usually straight-forward and informational. It doesn't jump off the paper. This girl totally got it. I was so excited about her opening paragraph that I asked her to read it out loud. She blushed the whole time, but you could tell she was super proud of herself. The other kids were silent when she was finished. It was powerful. I knew I had gotten through to at least one person in the class during the past two weeks when I've been pounding it into their heads about developing voice in their writing.
In my speech class I also read her paragraph out loud. My speech class delivers persuasive speeches next week and I've been stressing the need for passion in their speeches and appeals to emotions. I read it and they were, for once, speechless. It feels so good to even reach one student; and my hope is that many others will strive for what she accomplished in just her introductory paragraph.
It is unconventional days like this in the classroom that make me love teaching. Despite the fact that I woke up yesterday feeling horrible, I left campus happy with a boatload of cool compliments AND the knowledge that I had really taught them something.
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Eleven Years: Then and Now
It's 6:05 p.m. on my 11th wedding anniversary. Eleven years ago, I was just arriving at my reception. The weather had been in the 70's all day long and it had been an amazing day.
Today, I've just emerged from the shower. Instead of getting dressed to go to a nice restaurant for a quiet dinner, I put my pajamas back on, along with the robe with the two drops of coffee stain on it too, from when I almost spit out my entire mouthful this morning after reading a horrendous student paper and thesis statement that made no sense. It has rained all day long and tonight, we might get snow.
Eleven years ago, I spent hours getting my hair done and doing my make-up, getting in my dress and having hundreds of pictures taken. I was excited and nervous all at the same time.
Today, I spent hours grading papers and chasing after a little girl with a very runny nose and pleading with her to please put her dirty tissues in the trash and to please just sit down and rest. I've been nervous today too, but it's a completely different feeling when it involves your daughters.
Eleven years ago, I was getting ready to have a nice dinner. . . chicken marsala, one of my favorites.
Today, Mr. BBM ordered sandwiches from the local pizza shop. They'll probably arrive while he's retrieving diet coke from the store so I'll have to answer the door wearing my stained robe, flannel pants and slippers with wet hair and no make-up.
Eleven years ago, I was gearing up for a fun night of dancing with friends and family. And man was it fun!
Tonight, I'll curl up on the sofa and probably watch Food Network while I continuously check on the girls while they sleep and pray that their fevers don't come back. Mr. BBM will probably fall asleep on the loveseat. He'll also probably snore.
Eleven years ago, Mr. BBM and I were dressed to kill.
Today, I wear pajamas and Mr. BBM wears homemade "man-pri's" or what I call "pirate pants," which are cut off mens sweatpants that I used to wear post-ACL surgery because they were the only comfortable piece of clothing that I could fit over my obligatory knee brace. They were too short for him when I was done with them, so he cut the bottoms off and wears them despite the fact that I make fun of him each time he does.
Eleven years ago, Mr. BBM gave me beautiful diamond and pearl earrings and a necklace to wear for our wedding.
Last night, Mr. BBM and I exchanged anniversary gifts. I bought him a Steelers sweatshirt that he has to exchange because it is too small and the Polamalu Steelers jersey that I bought him hasn't even arrived in the mail yet. I just didn't have time to order it this week with all the grading and sickness happening. He bought me an outfit from Ann Taylor Loft, the store that seems to forget that they used to make shirts and sweaters with long enough sleeves for me and pants that didn't look like I was preparing for a flood. What happened Loft?
And more importantly, what happened to us?
Oh yeah, it's called a marriage, a marriage with kids. It's not your typical Cinderella story, but for now it's our story.
I'll just pretend my cheese steak tonight is filet; and Mr. BBM can pretend I spent more than three seconds combing my hair today.
Ah, marital bliss.
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