I pissed my pants today....

It was the end of the day.

I had just came into the twos room at work and surveyed the damage.
Not bad. Soft rainbow colored rings scattered the floor and clear bouncy balls littered there as well.

I walked amongst the children and picked up a clipboard. As I was checking children off, movement caught my attention.

It was Nico.

He was sitting in a chair, quite quietly...QUITE well behaved. I watched him for a moment and said across the room. "Nico. Come gimmie a squish."

"No." He muttered. His body tensing slightly.

"Nico...I can't hear you....come closer." I whispered, holding my hand up to my ear.

He laughed "No Mrs. Beanie, you'll get me."

Dammit. After a year of using that excuse, someone caught on.

"Gimmie a SQUISH!" I hollered now.

He giggled and stood up.

This was all a game you see. One that has happened every day since I fell in love with his fat squishy cheeks and his attitude.

"Gimmie a squish or Ill eat your entire face off." I whispered

And off he went. Running around the room, which was always ALWAYS off limits.
I took off after him like a shot growling and snorting and shouting "I will chew your cheeks!"

"No!" He giggled

"I will bite off your nose and poop it out and give you a poop nose!"

He paused to laugh hard, fart twice and then he was off again "You cannot catch me!"
He was right......I'm old.

I'm old AND I'm fat.

But I don't give up. I chased him and chased him and figured that he had an unfair advantage over me. He was 33 years younger and so in my mind, I deserved to use whatever means necessary to get my squish.

While running and hoping over various toys (and children) that were in my way, I leaned down and scooped up an armful of soft squishy rainbow rings.

(In my mind, I looked uber cool. Like a preschool matrix bitch. But instead of a black leather jacket flapping behind me, there was an apron.)

"AHA!" I stomped, planted my feet and frisbee'd  all 7 rings across the room. All 7 hit my target. "I got you I got you!"

I screamed. "I'm practically JUST like THOR!"
I hopped.
I looked around for witnesses, since I am the worlds WORSE target maker in the world. No matter what it is. The garbage....Juans head....I ALWAYS MISS.

"Nu-uh!" He giggled and took off running again "You did not get me!"

"I did I did!" I insisted and picked up three balls. I tossed them across the room and two of them landed.

"I did get you!" I stomped my foot and laughed so hard....that I pissed my pants.

It was then that I noticed Nicos dad leaning against the door. I stood up quickly, swiped back the hair that was flying around my sweaty face and approached him calmly.

He smiled shook his head and looked at his son "Nico!.....you couldn't even DUCK?"

He giggled "Hiiiii dad!" he ran to him, keeping his distance from my grasp.

"You gatta DUCK son. You know? Ducking?"

"This was not my fault." I insisted

"Mmmhmmm"

"So um. If Nico throws things in class tomorrow and gets in trouble, I just want you to know I'm blaming someone else."

He smiled. Coming from the teacher that had to approach him in the past about
1) Hanging his son from a tree
2) His son peeing in a bush when he was potty training
3) The time that Nico thought peeing in the bush meant pooping there as well.

I don't think he was too surprised. But as he walked away with Nico, I could hear him giving him tips on the age old art form of ducking.

A week home.

This is my disclaimer. Although I have not had to take a pain pill in more then 24 hours, The drugs still coarse through my body.
I've decided that Hydrocodone loves me and I love it. Especially when my mouth has hurt as bad as it has. Unfortunately it is refusing to leave my body. (probably because I am so fluffy and pink.)
And so I ramble here for you to read.
I will probably spell things the wrong way, but in my muddled brain I NEED to tell you, all of the important things that I have learned while being home for a week, bed ridden with ice stuffed in my face and Karma curled at my feet.

#1. Shane is a good boy.
Now I know most mommy's love their sons, but mine is above amazing. When my face started hurting me it did so IMMENSLY. The pain was not kidding. It was in fact making me its bitch.

At first I did all of the things that I usually do when mouth pain occurs. Rinsed with salt water, applied ice, took some ibuprophen...
Nothing helped.
I am not one to ask for help, nor do I cry easily. Especially in front of my children. Emma was safely tucked away softly snoring during my episode. SO that is good.
Unfortunately Shane heard me crying.
He tried to warm up my heating pad, he searched the internet for 24 hour dentists, he ran a bath for me and put me into it.
Finally while I was scooping hot water over my face he called brandee.
I wasn't even aware of this, I was too busy crying and splashing I guess.

"Mom get dressed. brandee is coming." were the sweetest words ever.

#2. Brandee is a good girl.

During a moment of sheer panic, when I realized that I NEEDED to go the emergency room. I stood in my room and moaned to myself :
....FUCK. I'm alone. I don't have anyone to take me anywhere! And then I kind of freaked out, practiced my labor breathing and tried to decide what to do.
Soon enough, brandee and Mandy showed up and whisked me off to the hospital.

You know those friends of yours, who are completely selfless?

 Hug them. Buy them a mocha...or even better a vodka. Because they are the ones holding your hand at 2am while you wait with the masses for help. DESPITE having to work the next day, despite already taking their sleeping medicine.
Brandee held my hand and smiled at me, when I was so much in pain. She rubbed my back and supplied numbers because I couldn't remember any. And the most important? She filled my shoes and taught my class, all week.

On the way home, after taking some meds I guess I called her a Chippewa princess.

High praise indeed.

#3. Karma is fat

Or at least she is now, after sleeping in bed, curled up against me for a week, and eating weird concoctions that I gave to her. Like a hot dog/cereal bowl that I presented to her with a flourish. I hadn't made it to the store as of Wednesday, and while I sincerely doubt that she appreciated the fact that I made sure her hotdogs were served to her in the shape of a heart, she ate it with gusto.

After I did make it to the store, I fed her too hearty portions because I felt so bad about the alfredo bacon and the hotdog cereal.

#4. I didn't sing for a week

I always sing. Like always and forever. I sing when I'm happy, I sing when I'm sad. If I'm stressed out I sing 'Valerie'. If I think someone is grumpy(And I like them) I will sing them a song of grumpydom. to ungrump them. (It usually works)

But I didn't sing for an entire week. It made my soul sad, although I am sure the pain meds helped to dull the sadness. I knew that I was feeling better when Emma caught me singing tonight.

The song?

"Karma is my hot dog pooper scooper."

....Don't judge me.

#5. Dentists are weird but amazing.

When I showed up at my dentists office, clutching my miniature Chewbacca that the beast had got me, Mr. Dentist smiled at me when he opened the door.

"Hello Laureen."

"Hello. Say hi to Chewy." I demanded. Holding up my baby Chewbacca.

"Hello Chewy." My dentist laughed and shook his head. (A lot of people shake their heads at me. I have yet to figure out why that is.)

"Well sit here on your throne and tell me what is bothering you."

"My whole entire mouth." I handed him the paperwork from the ER and presented him with my prescriptions. "Here are these. Here are the times I have taken them." I passed him another paper.

"Okay. Lets recline you and see what's happening in there." He put down the papers and pushed a magic button to tilt my head back.

"Open please."

I opened. He inserted his round, cold mirror thingy in my mouth and started tapping.

"Ineedchewwwy I needchewwy!" I said around his tools.

He removed the tools and sat back. "Chewy?"

"Yes. I need him. He is in my purse. Can you get him?"

He did. and resumed his investigation into my mouth. "We need to pull this tooth."
I moaned.
He gave me shots in my mouth and my hands started shaking.
My chin was shaking. My everything was shaking.

He sat next to me and put his arm over mine. "You are just having a reaction. Lets talk about River Monsters."
I nodded, we did and it calmed me.

He ended up pulling a molar, all the while I stroked chewy and squeezed his little furry neck.
After he was done, he sewed me up and handed me a mirror. "You wanna look?"

"NO!" I screeched

"Why not?"

"Cuz its ugly!" I exclaimed

"Bullshit. You are a beautiful women, and that is a beautiful clot."

I just stared at him. "Huh?"
Then I started laughing, my mouth and chin numb, drool leaking out from between my lips. "That is the weirdest thing ANYONE has ever said to me."
He laughed, walked me to the door and wiped my chin. "Well it is."

#6. Liquid diets suck ass

I'm sick of soup. At first it was delicious, but now I want to eat something substantial. Karma agreed with me that Ice-cream is just frozen liquid, so yesterday that became part of my liquid diet. (And by agree with me I mean she blinked when I told her blinking is dog sign language for yes)


#7. Vicodine leads to not pooping.

About Wednesday I vaguely recall Brandee telling me to take stool softeners. At least I think it was Wednesday. All I could do was nod at her and blink, because my brain had shut off due to the cream of mushroom soup/vicodine diet I had been on.

Tonight I declared to my very uninterested children "I haven't pooped." I had just realized it.

Then "I'm ganna try to poop."

Then "I'm going to the store for poop medicine."

Emma just sighed "Mom. we get it. Stop saying poop."

"Poop poop poop!" I shouted as I walked out the door.

As I pulled up to Walgreens I was approached immediately. "Maam Do you have any change?"

"Sorry. All of my change is going twords poop medicine." I said as I walked into the doors.

When I came back out, poop medicine clutched in my fist. He approached me again. "There was a man looking in your car. I scared him away."

I looked at him. My eyes skinnied up. Is this a new approach? I am well known to yell at men who beg from women around the West. "FINE! You can either have 50 cents or 2 poop pills. But that's it buddy. My boss is a beast and pays me in quarters."

"Nono. Its okay." He walked away looking scared. I sighed. How sad.


#8. The week flies by when your sleeping.

I have watched 30 episodes of UGLY BETTY and and halfway through season 2 of MONK. But regardless when Shane gleefully said "IT'S FRIDAYYYYY!" This morning, my response was "It is?!" I have slept the week away, falling asleep mid BETTY and waking up at 4am to run into the kitchen for my next dose of antibiotic.
The only notice of days passing was me asking Brandee "was work okay?" And her answering "Work is fine honey. You need to get better. We are all fine."
I asked her every day.

I miss work. I miss not wearing the same animal print nighty every day and wearing makeup. My face is washed out. Yesterday I almost slapped on some red lipstick for the hell of it. Karma didn't blink when I asked her, so I passed on that Idea.

I miss walking every morning, and even the gym. I cannot wait to be 100% again. At least tonight when I fall asleep again, I will know this: I have beautiful clots. How many people can say that?

It's a start.

"I am not going to your class." A little boy stated. Quite firmly I might add.

"Why ever not?" I questioned him, squatting down in front of his bike.

"Because I hate you." He answered.
His little face was serious and he shrugged his shoulders with the answer given.

My neck snapped back and I can tell you why. I have never, EVER in my career been HATED by a child. Loved yes. Frightened of (at first), sure. I am quite loud and strict. But hate?
 It was two weeks until transition and he was to be in my Fall Pre-K class.

"Why do you hate me?" I asked.

"Um. I dunno....I just do."

"If you hate someone you should know why."

He shrugged.

"If you USE the word hate you should know what it means."

He shrugged again.

I stood. "Talk to me in 2 weeks and we will see where we stand then." And I walked away to squish my children and stare up at the sky searching for aliens.

On the first day of the new school year, the little boy was sitting in the front row of my circle time.

I greeted the class and made them giggle with my puppets. I looked at him "Good Morning."

He stared at me.

"I see you are sitting in my class."

He nodded.

"Did you change your mind about coming to my class?"

"Nope. My dad just brought me here."

"Ah." And I continued circle time.

The next day, there he sat again. First row.

"Here again?"

"Yup. My dad just keeps bringing me here."

"I see." And I continued circle time.

Later during table work, I was squatting down, explaining a project to another child when he stood next to me. " I still hate you."

"Do you?"

"Yes." His face was completely bare of emotion.

"Why?"

"I dunno, I still just do."

"Okay, well now you are in my class. And I am your teacher."

He shrugged.

"Well. You may not be rude in my class. And by saying you hate me, you are being rude."

"So."

"It is unacceptable. Which means it is not allowed. And if you continue to be mean and say rude things like that, you can write me some sentences."

"I don't know how to write sentences."

"You'll learn."

He turned and walked away.

By the end of last week he would appear in front of me and stare at me. And then walk away. It sparked my curiosity, but I was busy and so I would turn and continue whatever else I was doing at the time.

This morning he came to my table for line work. I put his paper on the table and explained what I wanted him to do. "Trace the lines with the marker." And I did one line. "Paint the line with the color from the marker. Like this see?"

He nodded. And sat down. He scribbled all over the page and handed the paper to me. "I'm done."

I took it from him and placed another paper in front of him. "Do it again."

He stared at me. Sighed and scribbled all over the paper again.

"I'm done." he said, holding the paper up to me once more.

I accepted his paper and placed another one in front of him. "Do it again."

He stared at me and readied his hand for another page of scribble. I put my hand over his hand, and knelt next to him. "You will give me the kind of work that I expect from you. I know you can make these lines, and I will sit here right next to you until the work you hand me is acceptable. You do NOT have to like me. But you will do the work that I give you to the best of your ability. DO you understand what I am saying to you?"

"Yes."

"Show me." And I stood up.

2 minutes later he handed me a near perfect paper. "Is this acceptable?" He asked

"It is. And I knew you could do it."

He ran away to play, only to come running back immediately. "And I don't hate you anymore." And off he ran.

I smiled.

Each year brings me a new class of children. Each one a puzzle. Each one unique and delightfully special. Some laugh easily. (Some cry easily.) But each is a treasure, some are hard to open up. But once they do the prize inside is worth every struggle that was faced to open it. I look forward to learning every nuance and giggle spot of my new class.

And I hope that I can impress upon them strength of character and determination for growth. In more ways then intellectually. I hope I can make the hard to laugh, laugh easier. The shy ones beam with wonder, the loud ones calm their bodies and the sad ones find safety and love here with us all.

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.