The Hangover, December 26

         It is quiet in the house. As I sit here enjoying, I sip my chia tea and savor the cinnamon roll my dad gave me in response to my exclamation I was longing for one like Mom used to make. Sounds of the Season has changed into the Solid Gold Oldies. The tunes make me swing and dance as I remember the words from my days as little and helping my family cleaning the house every Saturday. I liked dusting because I could redecorate as I went through the house.
          With every object or piece of furniture, there are memories. I sit here in the middle of my house and am pressed with the stuff around me. Bubble wrap, curly ribbon, empty envelopes, sacks of new things, and baby-dolls my daughter took the in-laws are all mark the giving that precedes this day. They are remains of giving and celebration. Happy. Fulfilled.
           My mind wonders to Mary. Exhausted. She probably looked upon her pink faced bundle knowing the he was something special. The morning after his birth, she was surrounded with physical and energetic gifts to reflect the gift he is to become. She is grateful. Yet, the overwhelming, the questioning, the complicated feelings of new mother must fall heavy in her heart. What next?
            I am absolutely positivity that my overwhelmed feeling of what to do with all this new stuff pales in comparison to Mary's. I am graciously empathetic. I hold tight, to the quiet after the storm of joy and giving. I fold these memories of joyful community in a box I will store I my heart.  I can visit the box at will.
             I will start today by picking up the remains of the past two days with joy and rememberance. My friends vary in their following the belief of Jesus as the Son of God being born during the Winter Solstice. However, it is this time of year that the folks all over the world have celebrations of community and giving. Whatever your faith path, I hope you take in the goodness of this time. Be joyful of the gifts you receive and thankful for the gifts you have given others. Smile at yourself as you go through the celebration season hangover. Fill up your little box, wrap it in color and light. Hold it in your heart as a gift to be opened whenever you feel the dark. Namasta.

TGIF. Thank God I'm Forty

When my husband came home from work, he asked me how my last day in my thirties went.  Shrug. "About the same as the day before except I did have MLD."  After explaining the MLD was Manual Lymph Drainage massage therapy to relieve the pain and swelling in my arm and other blocked node areas, I continued prepping dinner.

Truth is I didn't really think about it.  Woopy, am turning fourty. (Sarcasm)  Social norms proclaim one should be inundated with black and silver gifts proclaiming you are on top of some hill and there is nowhere to go but down.  What does that mean really?  I thought we were supposed to prime with age like a vintage wine.

The last six years of my thirties was a verticle ascent. I had to dodge boulders and even got smashed in the head it a big one that resulted in surgery.  It's there.  It happened.  Six years ago, age 33, I wasn't too sure I'd make 40.  Six months.  Okay, you made that.  Awesome. A year, check.  Okay, let's set our eyes on five years.  Oops, boulder falling, dodged it.  Another year, check.  Crud here comes another. And another.  Wait, did you say five years. Sweet.  Let's do another year. A couple of rock slides but no major pieces missing.  Six years ago I said I was going to be fourty.  Your smiles were twisted with hope and doubt. "Blay on," I yelled. You watched my ascent with eyes of fear and amazement while keeping my ropes taut. I kept my focus on the next finger hold trying not to look down.

I am standing here and honestly a little scared.  I made forty.  I beat the statistics.  Now, what? Society says I have hit the top; that all my parts will start falling off like antique bicycle rolling down a cobblestone path. I can choose a challenge of rock hopping mountain bike trails or an easy descent on my fat-tire cruiser.  I just got all my parts in place on my life-bike, and my tires filled with air.  You know what?  It isn't the easy way, but I am going to acend this hill. New goal, grand children. Let's see if my kids are anything like their parents they will be about thirty when they become parents.  So twenty years from now...I will be seventy.  That sounds good. 

I arranged what I hope will be a fun filled, belly busting with laughter, and awesome GF/CF cupcakes consuming bowling party for a few friends and their families this following Saturday.  I am pretty excited to have an excuse to throw myself a big party. Happy dance. Thank God I am fourty.  No seriously, thank him/her. Amen.

Do your best! Do your best! Do your Best!

Public Announcement from the Soapbox of the Midnight Housewife.

Colorado children are about to embark on a two month journey of state testing in all grade levels 3-11. I believe many other states are performing similar testing programs. Ours is called PARCC.  If you have a student, you are well aware of the impending testing.

I have heard from parents, teachers, and all kinds of folks much complaining and adjetation.  I have heard may children stressed out to the point of crying. My nine year old is so afraid of the typing element and failing just because he can't think what to write and how to type at the same time.  Yes, he has had typing in computer lab when his class should have been doing paint and draw programs.

Here is my message.  STOP FREAKING OUT IN FRONT OF THE CHILDREN.  By sharing all your burdens, unhappiness, and anger we are creating negative feelings in these already anxious students and pave the path for failure.  I don't mean failing the test.  I mean failing themselves.

HELP them by not sharing your feeling. Rather LISTEN TO THEIRS.

Let them know that EVERYONE IS IN THE SAME BOAT.  Ask them how many kids in their own class is confident at typing.  My 9 year old said "one maybe two."  I would guess this is the stats for most classrooms with a slight increase per grade level.

Share that the only thing they need to do is DO THEIR BEST. Play some card games or trivia games encouraging them to do their best even though you might know a little more then them.  Help them feel good about trying their best even if they don't win.  Then draw the connection with tests.

Let them know this is really not about them but the global performance of the state.  Whether true or not, it takes the pressure off of feeling like they are allone.

And last and definitely not least, HONOR YOUR TEACHERS. They are doing all they can and more to Shepard the kiddos to do their best with less stress.   All the while teaching the curriculum their charges need to move to the next level in school in a dozen subjects. It is an awesome task to do.

Moan and grown in the privacy of adults.

FOSTER DOING "YOUR BEST" IN YOUR CHILDREN.

Afterall, if you didn't like the rules in soccer, you wouldn't whine and complain to your child and then throw him out on the field and expect him to do his best to score a goal with his team mates, would you?

End soapbox rant.  

GO TEAM AWESOME ACHIEVERS