Life advice to my daughter.

Now that my daughter is reaching the precipice of teenage-dom, I feel that it is important for her that I pass on experienced and jaded knowledge of the dating world, life and everything else.

(I have never felt so old as when plotting this Blog.)

RULE #1:

WAIT for a man like THAT

While watching Unbreakable, an amazing movie By the way, The only thing that kept going through my mind and I kept sputtering through my mouth was "Why don't they make men like THAT anymore?"

Men who were stranded on a raft after their plane went down WHIST serving their country.

Men who were STRANDED on a raft, who were hungry so they worked together to catch a FUCKING shark by the tale and kill it by punching it in the head.

Two men survived 47 days on the raft catching birds and punching sharks and dodging Japanese air raids.

Of course they did.

I feel like most men today would die after 2 days in a heap on the floor clutching their water logged cell phone to their chest and crying about no cell towers in the ocean.

As the credits rolled I looked over at Emma with a smile on my face and said "Emma, Wait for a man like that."

RULE #2

IF A MAN CALLS YOU BAE PUNCH HIM IN HIS THROAT

(or balls)

No explanations necessary.
If you are older then 13 and you say the word Bae in your daily life you better be talking about going to the ocean and watching the fucking whales in the Bay.

RULE #3

DO YOU

There is no one in this entire world as important as you are. Travel, make friends and mistakes. Work on becoming a fully realized woman. Don't set your self up to settle down.
There is plenty of time to relationship.

RULE #4

Make friends and invest in them.

Friendships are uber important in your life journey. If you have good friends, you are never lonely and are rarely allowed to be grumpy. Friendships are a relationship. You have good times and you have bad times.

You fight and then make up.

Don't give up on your friends. Especially when you get in a relationship.
Understand that when your friends are in relationships you are as well. You will rarely get to be alone with your friend anymore. It is a process. Accept it, and whatever loser or winner they fall in love with.

RULE #5

Know your worth.

The problem with most of the dating world is that it is lazier then ever before. You go out on one date and that means you sleep together.
Uh hello? Are you ganna give your vagina away for a $25.00 pasta plate?
NO THANK YOU.
Be the kind of woman that is worth it. Know your value and act like a lady.

RULE #6

Be strong.

Sometimes life is incredibly hard. Find something to look forward too.

Love the people who are good to you, know your strengths and work on your weaknesses.

Always strive to do things in life with your whole soul.

Look people in the eyes when you talk to them and give firm handshakes.

Speak clearly and decisively, Make your voice heard.

Fight for what you believe in, even if it is unpopular. ESPECIALLY if it is unpopular.

Ask for what you want and fight for it.

Fight for others who have no voice.

Be different, be unique and celebrate it.

RULE #7

Be a secret keeper.

Other peoples stories are not yours to tell.  Keep information to yourself. Ladies don't gossip about their friends. They are a safe place, a keeper of secrets.

RULE #7

Be honest.

Liars are ugly. Nobody likes them and they have poor soul hygiene. Also, they cannot be trusted. exaggeration is another form of lying....that is ugly too.

RULE #8

Read the Bible.

Even if you are wicked old when you do, at some point in your life, read it cover to cover. Inside of it there Is wisdom, forgiveness, life lessons and most importantly LOVE.

RULE #9

Don't be a dick.

And if you do, apologize.

There is no weakness in admitting your dick-dom. Only strength of every relationship. Friendship, husband or co-worker.
Be nice to people, forgive when asked and always love people back.

RULE #10

Nobody loves you MORE then I do.

They may claim to love you as MUCH, (not possible) but nobody in this whole wild world will ever love you MORE then I do.
Not your husband, your lover, your children or your bestie.

I will be there for you in every success and in every failure. I will wipe your tears and push your chin up. I will be proud of you, no matter what and I will always be your biggest fan.

Preschool Teacher on a soapbox.

To whom it may concern,

I am a Teacher.

I am NOT a Daycare worker.

The curriculum that I TEACH is researched, planned, written and executed with care and individual thoughtfulness.

My goal as a TEACHER is to provide an atmosphere filled with LOVE, routine and challenging thought processes.

At the beginning of the year my students learn how to properly hold a pencil, are given activities and tests that exercise their fine motor skills and by the end of the year, they are writing words that they have sounded out with said pencil.

They are learning literacy skills, sentence structuring and money value.

They are learning how to tell stories from the beginning and finish them at the end. But those things are FAR from the most important things to me.

I teach children MANNERS, such as raising their hands before speaking, asking to be excused from the table, waiting quietly and with patience when an adult is speaking.

I teach children KINDNESS, such as standing up for one another, helping a child who is hurt or sad and complimenting others on their actions (or cute shoes)

I teach children HONESTY, and that they can trust us with their story, information and heart.

I follow through when I say something, because it is part of my job as a leader to teach your children that adults are trustworthy, honest and can be trusted themselves.

Children are special and unique. Each one requires something different from their teacher.
I am silly when I can be and strict when I have to be.

I am not stuck in a teaching rut, I do not HAVE to be a Pre-K teacher. I want to be one.
I have considered what it would be like to work in a school district. And I cringe every time.

One of my school-agers brought home a referral from his school yesterday:


"Ms.Beanie, I have a note." He said miserably foreseeing written letters of apology and video game groundation.

I gave him a stern look, shook my head and began to read it.

"___________  splashed in puddles and stood beneath the water dripping off of the building, even when I warned the entire class beforehand."

I just stared at it for a moment before putting the note away.

"DO I have to write an apology letter Ms.Beanie?"

"Not today love." I replied

Later I stepped outside of the classroom to talk to his mom. " He got a referral today, Please read it. I want to follow through with discipline so I kept him off of the video games, however I did not make him write an apology letter for it."

She read the note and her eyebrows raised before looking back at me. "He's a kid!"

"He's a number." I said to myself.


I would fail miserably in the school district. I would hop in puddles and decorate the walls with paint splatter.

That being said, I do appreciate job offers. Thank you for thinking that I am amazing.

However, I do NOT appreciate being told that I deserve better. Because I as far as I am concerned, I travel an hour a day simply to work at the BEST.
With the BEST teachers and the BEST leader.

(And thank you Jesus, we have a long waiting list to prove it.)

When people have a passion for painting it is an amazing talent.
When you have a passion for Preschool it is considered a step below teaching.

This is untrue.

Preschool is IMPORTANT.
It is a valuable step in the development of a healthy and well rounded individual.

When we TEACH your child, we think about what values need to be instilled into them. Each and every one of them and as a TEAM we work together to provide it, while cultivating your child's need for magic, natural consequences and happy memories.

Some of these skills are invisible and cannot be written on their daily notes.
Can you imagine?

Daily activities:

 I learned how to stop being an asshole.

Today I learned to use my words instead of my fists to communicate. Also I stopped eating my boogers for dessert.

Today I learned that when Ms.Beanie says it is cold outside, I should PROBABLY grab my jacket.

Today I had to complete my work three times, until I have Ms.Beanie the kind of work that she expects from me.


It is my pleasure and indeed honor to have a small say in what kind of human being your child becomes.

Know that when WE as Preschool teachers say we love your child, we MEAN it.
We worry, hope and pray for them.
When they leave our classrooms we MISS them, think of them and sometimes cry because of it.

Penis.

I say the word penis, on average, at least 20 times a day.

"Don't kick people in the Penis."

"Put your penis away!"

"Are you rubbing your penis on my table?"

"We don't color our penises."

"Nobody wants to see your penis."

"Is something wrong with your penis? No? Then stop squeezing it, I'm sure your mother wants grandchildren someday."

You know, the norm.

Yesterday I rang my bell and made a lofty announcement " I am speaking to the boys. Please keep your feet, hands, crayons and elbows off of your own OR each others penises. We do not punch, hit, stare or even speak to another persons penis. I am tired of SAYING the word penis. If I say penis one more time to anyone in the WORLD, I will sell you. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Ms.Beanie."

The boys all answered (and tried not to laugh)
Everything was going well until the one little boy, who couldn't help it whispered "Peeeeniissss"
to the great enjoyment of every single boy in my classroom.

My head fell back and I sighed before going into full whale breathing.

*Breathing like a whale makes you feel calmer, instantly...try it.

I chose to ignore the penis whisperer and decided to take the high road of brow furrows and tight lips.
That never lasts long with me, especially when another child tells the penis whisperer that he was going to be sold soon.

Tree Choad. (Or how to throw a fit when your 38)

choad

 As it stands, the word choad has three major definitions.

1) A short, fat penis that is wider than it is longer
2) The area between the scrotum/vagina and the anus.
3) A derogatory term used to insult somebody.

"Ducas has a fat choad."

"Last night your mom tongued my choad."

"Quit being such a choad."

It is almost October.

This is my favorite time of the year, not only do we get to celebrate Halloween, read Halloween books, wear Halloween inspired clothing and drink Halloween coffee...but in MY family, October 1st means that we make plans for the 'Other'  Holidays.

Eeeeeee! Holidays.
How I love them so.

The music, the smells, the lights. Ahhhhh
Encase you're wondering...I AM one of those people who end up on December 26th, trembling and teary eyed that Christmas is over... "But it happened so fast.." I always say.

How sad.

However, I am also the planner of the family, and after eating our weekly family dinner and catching up on everyone's week, I whip my phone out and demand "OKAY. Let's schedule pumpkins."

Brandee and I look at our calendars and decide which pay day is the best to visit Delosso Farms.
"That's not a payday, but the next pay day is too close to Halloween." She says.

I "Hmmmm" In response.

"I am working. I can pumpkin!" Shane volunteers.

"Yay! If we are broke Shane can pumpkin for us!" I exclaim

"No, we can save." Brandee says...like an adult.

We quickly schedule our pumpkin date and discuss which rides we will go on.

As I get ready to follow my children out the door I murmur to Brandee "Wish me luck with these two. I am like the BOTTOM of the totem pole when we are together."

Brandee wishes me luck, I squish Mandy's face to my boobs and I am out the door.

On the way home I am excited.

Filled with Glee even.

"OH CHRISTMAS!" I exclaim "I can feel you coming! We will have the BEST most AMAZING tree EVER!....Who's turn is it to pick our tree this year!?"

Shane claps with Glee "MINE!"

My stomach drops and I frown at him.
Shane has ALWAYS wanted the most depressing tree's at Christmastime. You know, the ones you feel sorry for. The ones with gaping holes or lopsided ones that cause you to look away so that you don't feel sorry for the tree. THOSE ONES.

"NO." I mutter

"YES!!!" He exclaims "And I am going to pick out the smallest, most chubby tree on the lot!"

"NO!" I gasp trying to still my sinking heart with my hands

"YES! It will be a tree choad!" He laughs manically which causes my daughter to laugh with him.

"But SHAAAAAAAAAANE! I don't WANT a tree choad!" I whine, which causes him to laugh even harder. His fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to keep the tears at bay.

"I know! I KNOW! But it is MY year and I want a tree choad!"

"Oh my god, and it will break in half when we put my shark ornament on it that Mandy got me." Emma chuckles in the back seat.

"But I want a big fat tree! I picked out the BEST tree!" I whined some more, trying to make them see it my way. LAST year was my year and our tree was magnificent!

"DO you mean the one that we had to cut a foot off of to fit in our house and it took us 5 HOURS to put up. THAT ONE?" Emma questioned

"YES! But wasn't it magnificent?" I whispered, still awed by my fat giant LOVELY tree.

"Well yeah...but you had to run to Walmart and buy a whole separate tree holder for it."

"But...well now we have one so Shane can pick out a giant tree!"

"NOPE!" Shane shook his head "I'm getting the choad and there is nothing you can do about it. It's MY TURN! Family rules."

He was still chuckling at me, even when I smacked him for it on his tummy.

By the time we got home, I was pouting (and stomping) Shane was STILL laughing and Emma was spinning around in circles, probably high with the knowledge that her mom was miserable.

Shane stopped on the front porch to our home and looked down on me walking up, " I'm over your tree choices! You know what Momma, your tree choices SUCK!"

I gasped appalled at anything that I have chosen sucking.

"The pink tree?" He questioned, his arms folded and his eyebrow raised.

"Well THAT was my divorce tree! I HAD to celebrate with pink tree icing and pink diamonds on top!"

"The tinsel tree?" Emma stood next to him, her eyebrow raised as well.

"AGH! That is a reminiscent of times past. IT SHINED so prettily!" I stomped up our front steps after them. Completely rethinking my decision to give birth.

"I don't understand why you two are Christmas ruining assholes! I am the best mommy EVER and have filled your lives with Christmas fucking joy. JOY!" I shouted and pointed to the sky.

I walked down the hallway, de-braing and stomping like a toddler.

Behind me I heard "Oh my. Mommy is so mad." Then laughter.

Lots of laughter.

"If those beasts think I am going to have a choad tree, they have another thing coming." I murmured to Karma.

She snorted (Which in Karma speak means: THOSE BASTARDS!)  and I was happy that I had ONE family member who would not be getting coal for Christmas.

Looking for cows.

A few months back, while sitting in the passenger seat, my stomach growled and Shane let out a laugh.
He was still learning how to drive and each day after I clocked off at work, I headed to Tracy to pick him up....


"Hungry?" He smiled

"Yes, and I am going to die from it. COMPLETELY DIE!" I huffed and crossed my arms.

"OHHHH MYYYY MOMMMYYYY" He singsonged at me peppered with chuckles and headshakes.

He always does that when I throw a fit.

"It is almost 7:30 and I found a turd on my classroom floor today....A TURD!"
"A surprise turd."

"Yes! And now it's late and I am so hungry that I want to eat your giant baby man face off!"

He gasped fake-appalled at my threat of eating his face, and chastised me accordingly. "How sad to YOU. I am not speaking to you for 3 MINUTES!"

My mouth dropped open "3 MINUTES?! But I barely even threatened eating your giant face, just barely!"

3 minutes was a lot in our family, usually it was 10 seconds of the silent treatment in which we would pout, apologize and be forgiven.

1 minute in: "I hardly think that is worth 3 minutes!"

2 minutes in: "I am so sad at YOU! How sad to YOU!"

2 min 35 seconds in: "I'm sorry for threatening to eat your face."

3 minutes exactly "I hope you have learned your lesson! I forgive you."

"That was HORRIBLE."

"I know. That is what you get. Now....look out the window Mama."

"What!? NO! I have to look forward and make sure we don't die..or worse...hit some gravel."

"Gravel IS death." Shane mimicked one of my driving lessons

"Precisely."

"We are fine momma, relaaaaax...Look out the window. Look for COWS!"

I snorted and smiled at him. "You remember that?"

He nodded and smiled. It made my heart happy.

When Shane was small, we drove around a lot. And no matter where we went, we would tell him "Look out the window Shane! Look for Cows!" He eagerly would for a minute or so and then makeup incredible places that he had spotted the mooing mammal.

On Car drives, or in waiting rooms we would play I-spy, sing along to Vegi-tales or make up stories together.
As he got older he would draw and then regail us with stories that went along with his pictures. (These usually involved Luigi in some way.)

On my keychain I had a itsy bitsy checkers set, and in my purse were spare pens and pads of paper for tic-tac-toe.

I took him everywhere with me. The DMV, Gynecological appointments (he would count behind the curtain to 100) and every kind of shopping imaginable.

After Emma was born, our travel time continued the same. We did have a DVD player in our car for long trips, but more often then not it was off and the whole family would sing along with Larry the Cucumber's 'GOD is bigger then the boogy man'
(10 years later and I can still sing every word.)

It is intriguingly sad to me, how often I see children walking along with their parents, clutching a cell phone or an IPAD.
I want to stop them and implore them to turn off the machine and enjoy their child.
Technology is everywhere, and I GET that I sound old when I shake my head at an opportunity to have touchscreens in my classroom.
APPS are amazing!
APPS can teach the children so much!"

I prefer human connection and verbal teaching styles. Computer APPS are perhaps an invention for the now while I, and my feelings about them are befitting of the past.

Old I know.

I scrunch my nose even now as I type this.

I always say that the most important thing in life, is to make memories....but after Shane's remark about cows I realized that it is even more important to be IN them.

Shut off your phones. Take a walk, sing a song and for my sake, wherever you go keep your eyes peeled for cows.

Castaway and Cold cream.

"Hey girl, Damn you look good. I know you just turned 38 but you don't look a day over 25." I gushed.

No I was not talking to my bestie.

I was talking to my vagina.

Being single means a great many things.

It means I get to stretch out on my bed kitty corner.

It means I get to read all day and not listen to anyone bitch to me about lack of attention, but more importantly it means that I can let my vagina resemble Tom Hanks face circa Castaway. (albeit a blond one thankyouverymuch)

This morning after lazing about in my bed and binge watching Sherlock Holmes I decided it was time for my weekly beautification ritual. Which means: soaking in a scalding hot bath infused with bath salts and bubbles up to my chin.
Also today, I decided, was a good day to check in on my vagina. You know, see what's good.
(Being single ALSO means I don't pay as much attention to her as I did when I was shackled.)
Poor Vagina.

Since the age of time, boys have always wondered what we do behind closed doors, The truth is
every bit as alarming as your imagination.
We soak in scalding hot water, we scrub out bodies (using imported sugar scrubs) and we apply ointment that aids in the sloughing off of dead skin to our feet and elbows.

Yes, we women wouldn't be as soft as we are without working for it.
My personal secret is simple and was passed down to me by my grandmother. Cold cream.

VAGINA TIP: The next time you shave your bagina bits, apply cold cream, let it sit for a good 5 minutes and rinse.
You will thank me. (And your vagina will feel like a silk.)

As amazing as cold cream is, it is a hard find. I had ran out a few weeks prior and was searching the shelves like a mad woman, squatting down and reading boxes and jars aloud...just to see if I had skipped over it in my previous 2 searches.

"Can I help you?" A woman stood to my right

"Yes. Cold cream?" I looked up at her and squinted my eyes

"Hmmm. Cold cream?" she questioned. Her eyes flickering between me and the shelf.

I sighed in irritation. Mostly because I had gotten this same reaction at both Target AND CVS.

"There is face cream." She grabbed a box and held it up

"That is not cold cream." I stated

"I've never even heard of cold cream." She muttered beneath her breath.

"OBVIOUSLY." I huffed, staring at her unsoftened skin.

But just then I saw it at the very very bottom next to the mineral oil.

COLD CREAM!!!!!!!!!! It exclaimed (In my grandmothers leathery voice)

"HA!" I held it in my hand before lovingly rubbing it against my heart. I grabbed two just for good measure.

Which leads me to my bath, and speaking lovingly to my vagina this morning.

"You should be in pictures!" I exclaimed to my vagina in the mirror and then I clothed myself and headed out to finish my Sherlock Binge.

Emma came up to me and rubbed my arm. "You are so soft. What is it. What do you use?"

I squinted at her, and decided that I should let her in on my little secret.
I left the vagina tip out.
For now.

Licensed.

I am a lucky mom. 

My son did not want to drive when he turned 16 years old. There is no way in HELL that he was ready too, and I had explained to him that until he had a job and could afford 16 year old insurance, It was a no GO.

I would like to say that I wish I was one of those parents that bought their child their first car and furnished their insurance, you know...all Betty Crocker and shit.

But alas. I live in the real world of Singlemom-dom and juggling bills like a boss. Like I said. I am a lucky mom. And I have a son who understood that.

When it came time to hand over his keys and teach him the way of the wheel I will honestly tell you that I was filled with a fear like no other.

"Shane has a job!" I exclaimed to B&B (Birdie and the Beast...respectively)

"YAY! Praise Jesus!" One of them said..or both.

"Now I have to teach him how to drive." I muttered and Immediately I had to poop.

(I have nervous poop syndrome. Its a thing.)

"You can do it!" Birdie cheered me on, while flashes of her own driving experiences with children flashed across her face. It looked like horror...and fear.

" I can't teach my kids how to drive." Juan shook his head "Nope"

"Yes you can." Birdie cheered (shes always cheery)

"I have to poop." I whined. Juan rolled his eyes and pretended he didn't just hear that and Birdie laughed.

Teaching your child to drive is the worst thing ever.

WHY hasn't anyone told me about this? WARNED ME even.

"Emma, I think it is time I go out and find you a new daddy."

"What?"

"What kind of daddy do you prefer."

"WHY?"

"Well, My master plan is to find you a new daddy and then HE can teach Shane how to drive."

"I think you're ganna have to do it mom."

"DAMMIT."

FLASH FORWARD

Shane is strapped into the drivers seat and I am calmly sitting in the passenger seat. Telling myself to portray confidence and calmness.

What I was thinking is: "THIS IS SO FUCKED UP, THIS IS SO FUCKED UP."

"Okay son. You ready?"

"No."

"You can do this. Are you ready?"

"I mean. I guess."

"YOU ARE READY! Be confident, like me! Look at me being all confident and shit!"

He turned and looked at me. His eyes were nervous and his laugh was too.

We stared at each other and laughed together for a moment. "We can do this!" I whispered

"Okay. I'm confident-ish" He turned and grabbed the wheel.

Before I continue with my story I need you to know that I am fully aware that I suck at teaching people how to drive. I AM aware of my faults you know. 

"OKAY! Lesson ONE. What are you driving?"

"...um...a Ford?"

"No. YOU are driving a killing Machine."

"Uhhhh"

"This machine kills people. Be aware of that. Do YOU want to kill people?"

"No?"

"No you don't. SO you are going to drive safely and slowly."

"Okay Mama" 

"Good boy"

************************************

"LESSON FIVE! What is that?" I said, pointing to the gravel on the side of the road

"Uh...rocks?"

"NO! That is gravel. Gravel is death. Don't hit it. Its like hot lava."

"Okay?" He said while laughing nervously

"HEY! Do you want to die?"

"No?"

"Then don't hit the gravel."

**************************************

"LESSON 7 Everyone else is retarded. Remember that. You are the only smart one. Keep a look out for assholes and retards."

"Assholes and retards. Got it."

*************************************

"LESSON 8 There is absolutely no point in speeding. It is stupid. People who drive too fast are reckless and unintelligent. If you speed then you get pulled over. Your ticket will cost you hundreds of dollars and you will be late to work. Think about it, is going too fast worth it? No. No its not.

Just go the speed limit, and fuck everyone else. Just ignore them and sing a little song about how you don't care that they are honking at you. Arrive alive."

"Go the speed limit, sing a song, Arrive alive. Got it."

"You're a good boy Shane."

**************************************

I soon felt pretty comfortable with Shane driving, and I wasn't clutching the back of his headrest until my hand cramped up.

All of my directions sounded like childrens stories.

"Go over the creepy bridge, PAST the 'Where the wild things are' Trees and what do we do at the the blinky light?"

"At the blinky light, we turn right."

"Very good Shane! You are a good boy."

"You are a good mama."

Yesterday Shane drove off to work for the first time alone. I was worried. "Do you want me to drive behind you?"

"No mama."

"But do you feel confident?"

"YES mom."

"Okay son."

I'm still terrified.