Paint cups and sandsocks...

It was the silence that woke me this morning.

The silence first and then the swirling waters of our turtle tank.

I lay in bed listening to the quiet.
I hate quiet.
It unnerves me.

I closed my eyes, tucked my shoulders beneath the comforter and willed myself to sleep.

But nothing.

I wondered instead.

Did I add that tractor art to the curriculum? I couldn't remember. The afternoon prior I was sitting in my class working on it, but remembered that a child had become unclothed in my classroom just as I was about to add it.

I was sitting in my tiny chair, with my back to the bathroom. The person who was helping me was wondering amongst the children as I obsessively worked on my curriculum.

All of a sudden she became still and her eyes were staring behind me.

"Um." was all she had to say.

My fingers froze over the keys to my laptop. "She's naked isn't she?" I asked

She smiled and nodded, still frozen. To my right I hear "Hi Beanie!" And the naked child sat beside me.

"Hi love! Shall we put on your pants?"

"Okay!" She smiled.

And that was that.

15 minutes later, it looked like the children were done painting, so I closed my laptop and went to wash paint cups.

A parent walked in as I stood by the sink, my hands full of purple squishy soap paint.

"Ohmygod." She looked behind me.

"What?" I looked too. "What happened?" I surveyed the room and all looked good.

As I turned I dropped three goopy purple covered paintbrushes on the floor. The paint splattered all over the side of the sink and my bare feet. I laughed and bent down to pick up the brushes.

"Ohmygod. How do you do this? Come on!" she said to her child "Mommies gatta get outta here!"

"Oh! I'm sorry, um....Okay Bye!" I said to the now shut firmly door.

Hm. I stood at the sink with my arms crossed looking around. There was the paint table that I was cleaning. A child had sat back down and decided to paint her fingers. Then her palm, then her wrist. She was smiling.

The next table over was goop. The children were pounding it and cutting it. Some looked like scrambled eggs. Some like pancakes.

Then the Lego table was full. The boys were making star wars fighter jets and making the most awesome gun sounds ever. Mason had tried to show me how one day, but while his gun sound was awesome mine just sounded like a fart.

In our new kitchen area girls were feeding babies and boys were cooking dinner.

To me, the room was a fully engaged classroom. So much so that I could sit at a table, with 19 children and work on curriculum.

I took that moment to sit down on the carpet and enjoy. This is the best time of the day for me.
The time to sit down and watch.

Instead I got licked on the cheek. "Gallump....you taste good."

"Thank you Brooklynn. What do I taste like?"

"Strawberries."

I laughed.

I snorted.

"Not gravy?"

"Siwly Mrs. Beanie." She climbed on my lap "Want to watch a movie with me?"

"Sure. What shall we see?"

"I don't know. But I had fun. Maybe Monsters again? Because I had fun."

"I did too."

"Ooookay Then we will go!" She said very happily. A parent walked in and I stood up, squeezing Brooklyn one last time.

This parent came into the room and smiled. She walked into the room and observed all of the kids. She played a little and drug her kids away.

The day moved forward and in the car,  Brandee, Shane, Emma and I shared stories all the way home. We laugh, we moan in sympathy....but mostly we laugh.

My favorite moment of the day yesterday was a conversation with a 3 year old.

When I was on the playground, I came across Nico.

He had a sock clutched in his hand FULL of sand.

I looked at his feet and one was missing a sock.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Hey Beanie, I have this sand!"

"Did you take your sock off and fill it with sand so you could carry it around?"

"Yes!" He said, with one hand on his hip.

"I think you are a genius."

"Thanks." he shrugs

"Hey, can I take you to show Mr.Shane? "

"Sure!" He says and reaches for my hand. I lead him up to school age and show Shane.

Shane laughs and we leave. "What are you going to do with your sand?"

"I don't know. Carry it."

"Awesome."

Grilled cheese sandwhiches and tater tots..

 

I see it every single day.

I hear it even more then that.

People complaining about ridiculous things in their lives.

"I just don't want this bigger car! He doesn't understand, but its ugly and I do NOT want to be seen driving it."

I smile. I nod. But I do not say a word.
If I said a word it would sound something like this: "Shut the fuck up."

Yes.

Shut the FUCK up and drive the BIGGER brand new car. Be happy that you have one and stop being ridiculous.

Seriously? THAT is what you have to complain about in your life? HAVING to drive a brand new vehicle. Shut the fuck up and don't talk to me ever again. The end.

Actually, you can give ME your brand new shiny giant car and drive my borrowed tiny one. That overheats and we have to pray every single day will get us to work and back home for another week.

It's so annoying that I cannot say a word. All I can do is blink at them, bite my tongue and scream (In my head) SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I feel like we are living in a society where we can never be happy with what we are graced with. I think that if people take time from their lives and look around them, become aware of what is happening, and yes, shut the fuck up. Then in general, society on a whole, will be a lot happier.

The other day someone posted a picture of one of her plates that her child had broken. The picture contained the one broken plate next to the matching stack of 11. She was SO pissed off at her 5 year old for breaking a plate.

I suggested that she smash it up even more and make a mosaic out of it. That it could be a beautiful memory instead of the dreaded 1 out of 12 plate smash that she had going on in her head.

She fretted and worried that she did not have a matching "Set" of dishes anymore.

I offered to take the 11 matching plates off of her hands if it fucked up her ENTIRE world so much.

I got deleted off of her Facebook.
Her son was grounded.....(I always knew that children plotted against matching plates.)

I feel like the MORE people GET in their lives, the more they complain about. You would think that when people "come up" in the world they would be happy ever after.

Nope.

They bitch. ALL. THE. TIME.

I am not saying that "Bitching" should be against the law. Believe me, I bitch all of the time and Brandee hears it while we walk. But our bitching always includes a solution.

Me: I'm pissed off because the Beast is being an ass.

Brandee: Validates my bitchiness

Me: Do you think I should talk to him about it?

Brandee: Validates me wanting to talk to him

Me: I feel better.

Brandee: Validates me feeling better

And Vice Versa

See?

There is a solution to practically everything.

Someone once told me that I was a positivist. Is that a word? I dunno.
Maybe I was made with too much happy inside of me.
Maybe I have too much happy gene.

On Monday...ALL DAY I sang the "Grilled Cheese Sandwiches and tater tots song."
I sang it all day.
I was so happy.
It is my favoritest dinner in the world right now and on Monday, Mandy was making it for us.

During circle time I sang it, during naptime I hummed it. My co-teacher start singing it and dancing around the room with me shrugging our shoulders to the beat of my wicked awesome song. AND I sang it all the way home while Emma beat boxed next to me.

That night the sammiches were ESPECIALLY cheesy, crunchy and delicious.

I can tell you that practically everything in my life is not happy. It's not. Neither am I always positive. But what is posting about it on Facebook or twitter going to get me?

Sympathy?

Ick. That is so trashy.

Posting on a social media site your woes for someone to feel sorry for you? Seriously?

Have some pride, pick up a phone and call or text your best friend. Its in the code. They have to care.

So, if you are sad, irritated, mad, frustrated, fucking pissed off or angry try one of these simple solutions:

1) have sex. It makes everything better.

2) sing... it makes ME happy.

3) Have a cup of earl grey. Its delicious

4) Laugh

5) Find a solution

OR..... when the world fucking sucks, I find something to look forward too, even if it is simply grilled cheese sandwiches and tater tots.

For you.

"Cross That Line"

All along
I thought something would go wrong
Didn't you?
Walls were up
We never pushed our luck, like we wanted to

Every time I loose myself I find
I'm left alone but you need to know

[Chorus:]
For you I'd break these walls
I'd choose to fall
I'm going to cross that line for you

The sun is down
I thought you'd be gone by now
Didn't you?
Autumn night, I watch your face in the firelight
And I say to you

Every time I loose myself I find
I'm left alone but you need to know

[Chorus:]
For you I'd break these walls
I'd choose to fall
I'm going to cross that line for you

I don't know the right way
wonder what you'd say if I let go

[Chorus x2:]
For you I'd break these walls
I'd choose to fall
I'm going to cross that line for you tonight

The sun is down
I thought you'd be gone by now

Sickness.

Each day you wake, it is a blessing. An answered prayer. A wish come true.
At first death presents itself encased in hope.
We can beat this.
We can pray.
We will tithe and we will promise.
We will kneel until we bleed and clasps hands until they shake.
We will whisper words to the world. We will run, hike, walk jog and hope for a cure. We will drown our bodies in pink and pronounce to the world that we believe.
This is nothing.
This is another mountain to climb, another page of our story.

Death follows us all.
Its presence is prayed against and sometimes wished for.
Some seek it, and others do whatever they can to run from it.
But in the end, and AT the end. It comes.
Not always fast. Not always painless.

Until your mind is wracked with memories that aren't even your own.
Each spasm of pain, and incessant beep of the heart monitor is a curse. A wish denied.

Hush.
Hush surrounds you. Hushed words and hushed prayers. Daughters and sons, lovers and doctors speak around you.
They whisper while you sleep.
You can hear them cry. You can see it in your daughters face. In the strength that she projects.
 It is false.
And you know it.
 But you pretend, just like you did when she was small and was frightened.

You were too. But you pretended to be strong.

You want to wipe her face with your hands and let her believe that everything is okay. You smile when you want to grimace.

You hold your grandchildren against your heart and pray that they will remember the feel of you.
You want to be healthy for them. You smile for them. You pose for pictures and travel for them. So they have memories of you in these places.

You regret your mistakes and are thankful for the memories you leave behind.
You don't want your family to fall apart. You want to disappear quietly into the night, while they sleep and love and dream.
You pray for it.

You are helpless to it.
We all are.
It will come and slide its fingers into the heart of every single one of us.
But where there is death, there is also life.

Your laugh will live on in the throat of your grandson. The shape and tilt of your eyes will smile again in your daughter.
Your life lessons will always be in the hearts of your family.
Every day they will remember you, Babies will dream of you and their life will forever be changed because you were a part of it.