My Lipstick Life

Home Alone

2011-08-19T19:03:00.000-07:00

My kids are growing up.

And I am getting left Home Alone. For 17 years I have been playmate, chauffeur, and constant companion to my three children. With a few exceptions, where they went I went. Where they played, I played. What they experienced, I experienced.

All that changed this summer.

My daughter got her driver's license. Her friends drive. Her boyfriend drives. The pool, the rec center, amusement parks, lunches, dinners, the mall - all places my kids go without me now. Friends are their companions. Mom has been replaced. This is a good thing. I know this.

But it basically sucks - for me.

Now I get filled in after the fact instead of experiencing first hand. Now I send texts to touch base instead of reaching out for hand to hold. Now I pray for their safety instead of making sure they are buckled up.

Now I sit home alone.

They say letting go is a process but it felt sort of all-at-once for me this summer. And this is only the beginning.

Continuing Ed 101.3 - Importance of Play

2010-04-24T20:08:00.000-07:00

Mommy, won’t you pretend with me?
We could dress up and drink some tea.
See, I’m figuring out who I want to be
When you play make believe with me.

Daddy, won’t you build with me?
Blocks, trains, a Lego city,
Math and physics I can see,
When you create new worlds with me.

Grandma, won’t you cook with me?
We could make lunch or cookies for three.
Measuring, pouring, I’m learning, yippee!
Having fun, you, me and Teddy.

Grandpa, won’t you read with me?
Those words and pictures I can see.
They come to life so easily,
When you make them real for me.

Brother, won’t you run with me?
Superheroes, a pack of dogs maybe.
We’re learning language easily,
When we imagine what we could be.

Sister, won’t you dig with me?
Here in the sandbox or away by the sea.
There are no limits on you and me,
We can get loud and super messy.

School Friend, won’t you swing with me?
Play some tag or climb a tree?
We’re taking turns and leading fairly,
When we’re running wild and free.

Teacher won’t you play with me?
Because ABC and 123
Just don’t mean that much to me.
To learn I need to hear, taste, touch, smell and see!

Totally Truthful Tuesdays - Caution! Teen Driver

2010-04-20T06:05:00.000-07:00

It's a white-knuckle job and I don't know if I can do it. It might be the hardest parenting job I've had yet. It may even stress me out more than the truth in the cartoon above. It's...

Teaching my teen to drive.

It un-nerves me. It is a total loss of control that I don't handle well. It's a why-can't-I-catch-my-breath? tightness in my chest that doesn't dissipate until I am back in the driver's seat.

I have a very smart and capable daughter. She is in the Honors Diploma program in high school. She babysits children with ease. She is ultra responsible. But giving her the keys and sitting impotent in the passenger seat while she pilots our vehicle we are still making payments on, trusting her with my life - literally, may be the reason I start getting the gray hairs my brother swears I already have but my hairstylist denys.

Truthfully, if I make it through the next 40+ hours of behind the wheel training without gray hair, I will surely have a glorious mane of it by the time the twins get their licenses.

God help me.

Totally Truthful Tuesdays - Preschoolers Rule!

2010-04-06T19:38:00.000-07:00

No one will tell you the awful truth like a preschooler. I have 32 of them that relish telling me wonderful truths like: "You have a really big bottom," "My daddy made my mommy cry last night" or "I have an owie on my personal business." (classic!)

Well, the other day I decided to wear contacts to work since my glasses need to be readjusted. I wore contacts exclusively until December when I got new glasses but the kiddos have a short memory. About ten minutes into class one of the boys commented.

"Ms. Tina, your eyes look different."

"I'm not wearing my glasses today, Eddie."

"Oh... you look like a clown."

Gee thanks! What can you do but laugh?

True Crime Tale

2010-04-04T00:09:00.000-07:00

Few stories make me cry like the Easter story. The betrayal, torture, and death of Jesus is a true crime tale that rivals any modern fiction for suspense, gore, backstabbing, and murder. Plus, there is a twist at the end that any writer would covet and no reader could see coming. It is an emotional rollercoaster between book covers that always leaves me breathless.

I teach in a Christian preschool and for years I wondered how I can make this intense and scary story one that won't give my preschool classes nightmares and yet still keep the integrity, the sacrifice, and the miraculous intact. A few years ago I found my answer and it has mesmerized my four and five year olds ever since - Resurrection Eggs. They are a dozen plastic Easter eggs in a carton; each egg contains an item that tells the Easter story. Here's what they contain and my paraphrase of the story:

A small donkey - Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey and the people praised him singing Hosanna!, laying their cloaks on the road, and waving palm branches.
Three silver coins - One of the twelve disciples, Judas, would betray Jesus to the high priests for 30 silver coins.
A goblet - While the disciples and Jesus were in the upper room sharing the Passover dinner Jesus broke bread and give it to them saying, "This is my body broken for you" and he passed wine to them saying, "This is my blood poured out for you. Do this in remembrance of me."
Praying hands - After Judas left to carry out his betrayal, Jesus asked three of his disciples to go with him to the garden of Gethsemane to pray. Unable to stay awake, the disciples fell asleep while Jesus prayed alone. Three times Jesus returned to prayer until he found the strength to complete what lay ahead of him.
Leather cord - Judas arrives at the garden with the guards of the temple, indicates Jesus with a kiss, and has Jesus falsely arrested and accused; resulting in his beating with a whip.
Crown of thorns - After lashing Jesus the guards fashioned a crown made of thorns and put it on Jesus' head mocking him as the "King of the Jews."
Cross made of three nails - Although Jesus was tried and no wrong could be found against him they sentenced him to death by crucifixion and nailed him to a cross.
A die - As Jesus was suffering on the cross, they took his clothes and threw dice, casting lots for them, giving his clothing to the highest roller.
Spear - After three hours on the cross Jesus breathed his last and a great earthquake shook the city. To be certain he was dead one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear and water flowed from the wound. Jesus was dead.
White sheet - Following the death of Jesus they took his body and wrapped it in a white sheet. Joseph, a friend of Jesus, layed his body in a new tomb and rolled a stone in front of the tomb to seal it.
Stone - Guards were posted outside the tomb to be sure no one could steal the body for Jesus had claimed that he would rise from the dead. On the third day after his death, Jesus' close friend, Mary, came to the tomb to anoint his body with herbs but when she got there the stone was rolled away.
Empty! - Jesus was no longer in the tomb for he did indeed rise from the dead and he lives today, awaiting our union with him in heaven.

I shared this miraculous story twice, once in each class, savoring the children's faces as they anticipated seeing what was in the next egg and raptly listening to the story unfold. Both times I was in tears as I opened the empty egg. I know the children don't yet understand my tears, but I pray they will. For this resurrection is the miracle of Easter and the hope of everlasting life for us all.

Happy Resurrection Day!

Totally Truthful Tuesdays - Telephone Trauma

2010-03-30T14:21:00.000-07:00

I got in trouble yesterday with my sister-in-law. I think after 19 years she finally figured out this awful truth about me:

I don't call. Ever. Anybody.

This is one of most irksome and irritating faults. Ask anyone in my family and they will tell you, if you want to talk to Tina, you're gonna have to be the one picking up the phone. Most people closest to me have all resigned themselves to this annoying trait but I fear I may have lost a friend or two along the way and this makes me sad.

I don't mind talking and catching up once I've picked up the phone. And it's not that I don't think of those I love and hold dear - I do. I just never think to initiate, pick up the phone, and kill an hour or two chatting. 'Cuz believe me. I can chat.

Talking on the phone was tough when the kids were little. There was never a good time to call if any of the three were semi-awake. On the off chance all three were sleeping... Well the last thing I wanted to do was disturb the quiet! Of course the kids are much older now yet somehow whenever I raise a phone to my ear I am needed. It is like an inaudible whistle that calls children from the far reaches of space when the phone connects with a mother's ear. Now at least with a look or a flick of my hand I can send them away - so this is no longer a viable excuse.

Believe me, I have tried to change. I've tried writing myself notes on the calendar to call people on a semi-regular basis. Like my mom, dad, brother, or in-laws. FYI - this doesn't work if you don't use a calendar much. I have kept old messages on the voicemail, blinking for days upon days as a reminder to call someone. All for naught.

I still hold out hope that you can teach an old dog (that being me) new tricks and I can change my mute and neglectful ways. Maybe when my kids move out of the house my desperation to talk to them will change me. There's always hope, right?

'Til then, give me a call sometime. I'd love to chat... Really!

Totally Truthful Tuesday - Singin' Fool

2010-03-09T07:20:00.000-08:00

I love to sing.

Consequently, I sing ALL THE TIME. I wish I could say I had skills but really I don't. I mean, I think (hope) I can carry a tune but beyond that I would need a lot of vocal-coaching and Auto-Tuning to produce something remotely recordable. But that's okay, really, I just sing for me; because I love it. It brings me joy, changes my mood, helps me connect to God, fires me up with energy, and releases emotion when nothing else helps.

Something I've always wanted to do (and probably anyone who has riden in a car with me would agree) is take singing lessons with a professional. Not only for my enjoyment but because I have a voice that carries and the people sitting in front of me at church would probably REALLY appreciate it :)

Totally Truthful Tuesdays - Lipstick Truth. What Else?

2010-03-02T08:17:00.000-08:00

Okay, people, hold on to your butts (love this line from Jurassic Park). Here's the truth about how many lipsticks I REALLY have. If you count the three I bought today to replace beloved, almost-empty colors, I have a total of...

Fifty-four lipsticks.

Yes, you read correctly - 54. Do I like all of the colors? No. Some are not great shades on me but I keep them because I know the power of layering. The possibilities are endless when I layer a not-so-great color with a fabulous over-layer. So really I have many, many more than just fifty four tints.

Here is the breakdown:

45 colors and glosses in my make-up case ranging from pink to plum to red in brands more numerous to count (this does not count 2 chapsticks)
4 in my purse because the shade should match my outfit
2 in my church purse
2 in the car

1 on the desk by the computer awaiting reordering from Drugstore.com because Sephora discontinued the line - boo hoo

As you can see, being caught without lipstick available is unacceptable. Not to mention people think I am sick and on my deathbed when I am sans lipstick.

An obsession?

Perhaps. But I would rather call it a hobby - a beautiful one :)

Continuing Ed 101.2 - Reflections on Teaching

2010-02-28T14:29:00.000-08:00

How can I best serve, edify, and love others? How can I have a positive, lingering impact on the life of a family? How can I use my God-given gifts and talents to build up current and future generations?

I can do all these through the life of a child.

Through the demonstration of unconditional love to a child, you love a family. By edifying and building up the littlest individuals, you can change the dynamics in a family home. By instilling a love of learning, a sense of capability, a belief in oneself, and a determination that anything is possible, you can touch a future generation and impart hope to a current one. Furthermore, to do these to the glory of God - this is why I choose to teach.

I cannot say I remember my earliest teachers. Yet I know I grew up loving school, learning, and the educational process. I cannot pinpoint one particular educator in my elementary, middle or high school years that excelled at edification. Yet I left understanding that I was capable and I was confident that through self application I could do anything I could dream for my future.

Through the combined efforts of many good teachers, I got to college and experienced a few great teachers. Teachers who challenged me to stretch and become more, to have enough faith in myself to dream and believe, and to have the self-determination to work hard for what I want.

These three basic values of: challenging others to become more, instilling a creative vision that believes they can do anything, and encouraging the application of self to realize individual potential, is summed up for me in this - love. It is by loving a child that you give them room to become, vision to create, and encouragement to persevere. Only through an outpouring of imperfect love can I demonstrate the unconditional, perfect love of God who created each individual child with a great plan and purpose.

It is my hope that through love I can serve and edify, have a positive, lasting impact on a family, and glorify God to current and future generations - one individual child at a time.

Totally Truthful Tuesdays - Tomato Tragedy

2010-02-23T08:00:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry juicy, fresh tomatoes but I hate you. I have tried really, really hard to make friends with you, but I can't.

You make me gag. Literally. Remember when my parents decided they had enough of my tomato drama and forced me to eat a slice at the dinner table? It wasn't pretty.

The worst part is, I don't like picky eaters. I pretty much have zero tolerance. So our relationship really galls and shames me. Why must you treat me this way? You are on EVERYTHING. I am constantly chagrined by having to say, "No tomatoes please" every time I place an order. Can't we just get along?

I can eat salsa, tomato sauce, tomato soup, stewed tomatoes, and even tomato juice. But a slice of tomato on my sandwich? It will be removed. Diced tomatoes on my beloved Mexican food? It is akin to a crime. And do not even think of showing up in my salad unless you are the easily-picked-out cherry or grape tomato variety.

Really, Tomato, we need to work this out. The feud has gone on long enough. Maybe it's time to try this again...

Totally Truthful Tuesdays

2010-02-15T19:54:00.000-08:00

Drumroll please...

Introducing Totally Truthful Tuesdays where I bare it all for you!

I would love for fellow bloggers to join me in laying it all out there - the good, the bad and ugly. Grab my button, link it, and blog about your passions, pet peeves, and everything that makes you, you on your own Totally Truthful Tuesdays.

Bare it all, Baby!

PS: I Love Me

2010-02-14T16:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, I know this is a little corny but Julie at Big Girl Bombshell challenged us to write a love letter to ourselves for Valentine's Day. Honestly, for most of us it's hard to publicly admit things we value about ourselves. There is always the fear that it won't be received in the manner it was intended; that people will perceive us as prideful or boastful when really, you've had to dig deep, really stretch to find what it is we like about ourselves. And yet it's so easy to utter the negative dialogue we have playing in an endless loop in our heads.

Well, since I am still striving for New Beginnings I thought I would give it a try. So here I go.

Bean,

You are a whirlwind blowing through life scattering love and joy like fresh green leaves swirling in an azure summer sky.

You are a mother's comforting embrace when life serves up a scraped knee and punctured pride.

You are the helium in a heart-shaped balloon that lifts arms, eyes and spirits that were once earth-bound.

You are brightly colored lips that are wide open in boisterous song.

You are Fourth of July fireworks: sometimes beautiful, sometimes scary - always loud and colorful.

You are a rainbow-hued quilt fashioned from disparate scraps of fabric that combine to make something lovely and completely unique.

You are a compelling novel that I want to read all the way to the end.

You are a tube of bright fushia lipstick that can bring out the beauty or the clown in anyone you meet.

You are a jigsaw puzzle and though I don't know exactly what your life will make in the end, I know the pieces are wonderful.

In short, you are love, joy, comfort, a lift, wide open, beautiful, scary, loud, colorful, disparate, lovely, unique, compelling, bright, and wonderful.

And I love you.

BTW - Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

Continuing Ed 101.1 - Going Deep

2010-01-28T19:12:00.000-08:00

As most of you know, I have returned to college to get credentialed in Early Childhood Education so I can continue teaching Pre-Kindergarten. I have my degree in English and began my MFA in Creative Writing before getting derailed by marriage, family and life - and that's okay. But new regulations in Colorado demand that every lead teacher must now have an education in ECE. We must take two classes initially, building to an associates degree over time. Although I wasn't fired up about it, I now see this is a good thing, albeit slightly inconvenient.

Last night was my first class in Child Guidance Strategies. We started last week but the professor had to miss because she was busy rescuing 32 orphans from Haiti and placing them with adopting families here in Colorado. Needless to say, we accepted her excuse for being absent! Subsequently, last night was our first class discussion - and we went deep.

To understand how to guide a child in our classroom we need to understand where the children are coming from. What is happening at home? What have they been exposed to in their short lives? How are they disciplined? How consistant is their rountine? How much affection are they shown? Who are their primary caregivers? An endless list of questions we can never get all the answers to. And, it turns out, endless variations in answering those questions.

But because we can't ask the children for their answers, the teacher asked us for ours.

We were invited to be frank in sharing our own answers to those questions, to share our own stories. Stories of abuse, of neglect, of rape by a stepfather, of divorce, of punitive discipline, of jailed mothers and taking custody of siblings, of drug and alcohol dependence, of parental mental and physical illness, of special needs and emotional needs, of death, separation and running away.

Out of a class of 16 women only four could claim to come from an intact, healthy family. Merely one quarter of the women had the "nuclear family" we used to see on TV. This tells me that what most of us thought was the norm was really abnormal in our generation. And I would venture to say, even more so in the current genration of preschoolers.

I have 16 kids in my classroom. The same number as the amount women in my college class. Although I live and work in a pretty affluent neighborhood, how many of these children have some of these issues in their homes? Judging by the varied answers of 16 women in my class? Probably more than I would ever guess.

So maybe next time that child that never stops whinning, or the one that always claims he's too tired to try his table work, the biter, or the girl that bursts into tears at the slightest offense start to try my patience, I can remember that I don't know their story and my patient smile might be the only one they see all day.

And that can make all the diffence - right then.

So this is what I learned last night:

Life is hard.

I mean really hard. But people are tougher. We overcome. We are built to bounce back for the most part. We are able to learn, grow stronger, and make different or better choices in the next generation. We don't have to be stuck with what we were dished out. We can dream of making a difference in our own lives and in other people's lives.

We can touch the future - one child at a time.

Tomorrow's the day...

2010-01-18T18:49:00.000-08:00

See the students on this catalog? They have one thing in common. They're all YOUNG!

School is now in session!

Yes, tomorrow I officially go back to college to take the two classes I need to stay certified to teach preschool in the state of Colorado. To say I am nervous would be overstating it but I certainly have some trepidation. It's not that I think it will be hard work or a difficult course of study. Actually, probably not since I have been doing this for years and most of the knowledge is common sense (or mother sense) with some requsite fact regurgitation concerning child development and developmental psychology.

No problemo.

No, it's the disruption of my comfort zone, the change to my daily routine, the addition of tasks, responsibilities, and homework. These are the things I dread. I don't do BUSY well. Even with 3 teens we don't do a lot of constant running around in our house - yet. I love laid-back, curled up on the couch with a good book, sleeping until 10am, lazy days. I won't have a lot of those for the next 4 1/2 months (*sigh*).

I know I'll end up loving going back to school. I've always loved school - mostly for the social aspects, but still. So I am trying to face tomorrow with a positive attitude, an open mind, and a willing heart. And if that fails there's always the phrase I lived by when the kids were little and going through difficult stages, "This too shall pass."

And it will.

Put Me In, Coach!

2010-01-14T16:18:00.000-08:00

As some of you may remember in my January 1st post, New Beginnings, one of my goals was to get at least 15 minutes of exercise a day even if it is just walking the dog.

Well, I am happy to report that so far - 14 days into it, I have kept my goal!  I have logged 446 minutes and burned 2697 calories. Yeah, I know it's not even a pound yet but combined with my eating focus it is working to release weight and allow me to climb the stairs in my house without getting winded. Hooray!

The workouts have not been all blood, sweat and tears. A lot of them have been fun, moderate workouts on the Wii Fit Plus. And the Wii keeps track of my calories burned.  That there is some motivation, Boy Howdy! The hard workouts are the ones on the elliptical. Those are no fun. Halfway through the first one I wanted to cry. I know it will get easier so I'm going to stick with it.

I have a few tools that have been helping me. One is http://www.dailymile.com/, a Facebook-type social network that keeps track of your posted workouts and goals. The other is my fitness blog Desperately Seeking Size-Ten where I connect to a group of like-minded people who cheer me on and inspire me. It has made all the difference. If you care to, join me as I chronicle my trials and tribulations on the road to getting fit.

Because getting fit is what it's all about.

In the long run I want to bike, run, swim, kayak, play baseball, golf, soccer, and field hockey.  And I want to do cartwheels. Okay, maybe I won't do all these things, after all I'm no spring chicken anymore, but I want to at least be able to try!

Makin' A Splash!

2010-01-08T15:36:00.000-08:00

A little something for everyone!

Since beginning my foray into blogging 8 months ago I have been delighted by the humor, inspiration, wisdom, and kinship I have found with fellow bloggers by reading and following their written journeys through life.

One of my favorite fellow bloggers, Blue Cotton Memory, has given me an award!

The Splash Award – It is given to alluring, amusing, bewitching, impressive and inspiring blogs. The rules for this award are:

Put the logo on your blog/post
Nominate and link up to 9 blogs which allure, amuse, bewitch, impress or inspire you.
Let them know that they have been splashed by commenting on their blog.
Remember to link the person from whom you received your Splash Award.

Here are some of the writers who are always making me come back for more: more laughs, more inspiration, more wisdom, and more encouragement!

And as always, thanks for reading My Lipstick Life!

Another One Bites The Dust

2010-01-03T19:43:00.000-08:00

It's official.

Another school break is over and I have nothing to show for it. No list of projects crossed off. No proudly-organized craft room, curriculum files, or kitchen junk drawer. My jewelry sits unpolished and in disarray all over my dresser. My closet still needs an overhaul. The kids clothes need to be weeded through for too-small items that my sons will undoubtedly choose to wear first. I still need to dust.

Forget all the high hopes and resolutions for the New Year, I can't even get my To Do List accomplished over a two week break. I did, however, get a lot of relaxing in during my time off.

So I say 'no' to resolutions and 'yes' to goals & dreams. I listed some in my last post and the good news is I have not failed any of them because my life, unlike my winter break, is not over yet - thank you, God.

The good news is, as most procrastinators know, there's always tomorrow!

New Beginnings

2010-01-01T19:46:00.000-08:00

Unbelievably we have entered a new decade today!

Even more unbelievable my sons cut their hair short again! After a long stint of collar-brushing, over the eyes, covering the ears, hiding behind my hair, my twins have emerged. It is so wonderful to see them confident and styling!

I never fought the battle over their hair. I let them decide how they wanted to wear it and to my knowledge I never harrassed them. I didn't need to. My daughter harassed them endlessly! She is also sporting a new shorter 'do and loving it.

My hair can't get much shorter so I am making some other changes. It is time to get fit. I have decided to start a weight-loss blog and I hope it will offer me some accountability, encouragement, and therapy! I am recommiting to the Wii Fit and want to be active everyday for at least 15 minutes - even if it's only walking the dog. I also ordered new glasses. This is where the kiddos took this stylish photo I have posted!.

Besides my fitness goals I also have some other goals for 2010:

Serve others more. Like my family and I did in the post Teens Will Be Teens.
Consider going back to school after I finish my two classes for my ECE credential.
Blog more.
Spend more time with God.
Fearlessly start writing book ideas without always second-guessing myself.

Of course, I'll be blogging to let you know how it goes.

Happy New Year, 2010!

A Most Precious Gift

2009-12-24T13:01:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I received an early, most precious Christmas gift .

No money changed hands for this gift but it was the culmination of a 16-year investment. No one left the house to get my gift but many miles were traveled to receive it. No single person can take credit for it but a lot of loving hearts conceived of it.

Yesterday my three teens sat at the kitchen table and had a quiet time studying the Bible together. At my daughter's suggestion they animatedly opened the Word of God and took turns reading about the temptation of Jesus in Matthew chapter 4. They discussed how Satan challenged Jesus with scripture and how Jesus rebuked him in return using scripture. They concluded that you must really know your Bible to be able to resist temptation. And further, if man cannot live by bread alone but by the very words of God, then having a daily time in the Bible should be important.

I sat in the dining room alone, listening to my children sharing the Word and praying in turn. Laying their joys, worries, blessings, hopes, and dreams before God with pure and innocent hearts. Praying sincere prayers to a God they have complete faith in to be listening and answer. Unashamed of their faith in a savior born as a baby to save the world.

This gift was not given to me, the kids were unaware of me sitting with tears in my eyes and gratitude in my heart, yet I will cherish it as the most precious one I received this year.

My husband and I worked hard for this gift but we do not claim to have earned it. Many friends and family invested time and prayers. Many hours and miles were spent attending church. But as the Bible says, we merely plant the seed and God makes it grow.

To His glory!

Merry Christmas from the Dean Kids - Joy to the World!

Oh Christmas How I Love You!

2009-12-12T18:54:00.000-08:00

Oh Christmas how I love you

I do and always will.

But sadly this year's coming

Lacks my typical thrill.

What happened to buying gifts

From the overflow of heart?

To meeting the needs of others

And trying to do my part?

'Cuz now there's obligation

That no longer feels sincere.

With all the stress and buying,

It seems contrived this year.

The greatest gift of all

Was given on this day.

The Savior as a baby

Was born to show the way.

But now instead of worship,

We plunk our money down.

To buy unneeded excesses

And run all over town.

The merchants have taken over

What was simple yet profound.

Black Friday, Cyber Monday,

Oh Shoppers gather 'round.

I long for something simple,

Traditions of the past.

To bring me back to Jesus

On whom my cares are cast.

Christmas Tree Sap

2009-12-08T12:23:00.000-08:00

I'll come right out with it:

I'm a sap at Christmas.

If you know me, it is well-established that I am a crier.

If you don't know me all that well, here are some examples: At my daughter's middle school orientation I wore my sunglasses so I could cry as I toured the school. At her high school parent night assembly I cried as the principal described preparing the students for college. At every public recitation of the pledge of allegiance I cry (although I say this everyday with the preschoolers.) And forget singing the National Anthem...

With this being said I guess it should come as no surprise that I cried when we decorated our Christmas tree this year.

But, honestly, how could I not when my three teenage kids, wearing Santa hats, dancing around like fiends, singing at the top of their lungs with all the joy of family and the season, shower me with laughter and love? All I could do was dance along, try to sing past the lump in my throat, and join in the laughter through my tears. (Jeez, I am crying now as I write this.)

For it is at moments like these I realize that the time I have left to borrow them from their own lives is getting short and I never want it to end.

Remember what is most important this Christmas and spend it dancing, singing, laughing and crying.

And to all my blogging SITStas, Merry SITSmas!

Say Cheese!

2009-11-29T21:53:00.000-08:00

My 16 year old is obsessed with taking pictures of herself. This cute picture is one of 32 taken during a solo photo shoot about a month ago.

She has literally hundreds of photos in her file: photos alone, with friends, with family, with random kids she babysits, with the dog, in black and white, sepia, funky colors, you name it, she's in it. And it's not your same old smile in every picture either. Not hardly. Here is Girlie looking sad, looking serious, smiling, frowning, surprised, dejected, angry, and sometimes even trying a flirty look on for size (yeah, she went there.)

Okay, confession time: Many of her photos are with me. By her invitation of course. Nonetheless, we spend many a day snapping pictures together.

You see, I share her obsession in many ways. Only when I was her age we didn't have the instant gratification of digital cameras you can hold at arms-length and get a great picture. No, you had to wait a week and someone else was privy to your humiliation. That wouldn't do.

So I used the mirror.

I can remember my brother making me cry (don't deny it, R) and I would run into the bathroom. Not in embassasment, no, but to see what I look like when I cry. I can remember spending countless time in front of a mirror. Trying on expressions. Trying to discern just who I was and whether or not I was a person others would find engaging. I just wanted a glimpse of what other people saw. I'm sure if I had the technology as a teen I would have been filling up files of my own searching out what everyone around me saw everytime they looked at me.

I don't know if my Girlie is on a quest of self-discovery like I was. Maybe she is just in pursuit of the perfect profile pic to update her Facebook with. Either way, I hope she finds herself in those pictures and likes what she sees.

I know I do.

I'm Thankful... For Bubble Wrap!

2009-11-23T18:40:00.000-08:00

That's right. Bubble Wrap!

A few weeks ago I lay in bed on a Saturday night mildly stressing about all that I had to do at home and at school the upcoming week. And that's when I remembered about the bubble wrap. You see I needed it for an Indian Corn craft on Monday and had forgotten to put it on my list so I made a mental note, rolled over and went to sleep.

Sunday morning dawned crisp and clear. A thick layer of new snow was plowed to the edges of the Red Lion Hotel parking lot where we were having church service. And there in the gutter of the sidewalk, lying clean and un-popped on top of the sparkling snow - bubble wrap! The perfect size. In pristine condition. Just for me. I told my son to grab it and with a smile we hurried into church.

The service that morning was an in-depth look at God's indescribable nature. We looked at many pictures of the infinite universe that He created. We discussed His awesome power and glory. We marveled at how HUGE He is and how insignificant we are. Then marveled some more that despite our insignificance He lavishes us with attentiveness, blessings, caring and the sacrifice of His son. I left with deeper understanding that He is God and I am not.

As I walked out of church that morning I knew God had sent me (and my amazed kids!) a special message:

"I know your cares. I know your every worry. I love it when you talk to me and trust me to take care of you. I want to bless your faithfulness - even when you don't ask me for it. No worry is too inconsequential for you to give over to me. I got your back."

Our God works in mysterious and wonderful ways. When I'm listening He speaks powerfully to let me know how much He loves me. Me. Insignificant me. Who needs bubble wrap from God every now and then to remember He really cares, really listens, really loves.

Thank you, God.

Blue Moon or Step Back from the Ledge

2009-11-22T19:38:00.000-08:00

This afternoon I saw New Moon with my Girlie & her Girlie-friend.

Okay. Let's start by saying New Moon was my least favorite book in the Stephenie Meyers' Twilight series.

Here's why: far too much drama, Mama! Maybe mooning about inconsolably for the length of an entire, long novel is relateable to tweens and teens but Bella's living on the razor's edge looking longingly into the abyss gets old quickly.

Naively I hoped the movie would bring something different to the table. Somehow make it more, I don't know, endurable? Not. Bella was totally shattered throughout as expected but somehow through all this despair there is not one tear shed. Maybe I saw the sheen of a track of a tear but no real pathos. There were many screams of anguish (insert eye rolling here) but no real emotion. It was like watching a robot. If there had been a hint of sincerity I would have felt it and been crying along - I always cry along. I cried in church this morning as a matter of fact. I think I cried at the previews. At New Moon? I got nothing.

The upside was the forever-shirtless Jacob played by Taylor Lautner. Talk about eye candy! The downside is I felt slightly lecherous drooling over a 17 year old boy. I mean come on, he could be my son. Ewww!

Speaking of ewww! Edward, played by Robert Pattinson was completely unappealing in this movie with too much make up and nasty-looking contacts. Thus rendering me a Team Jacob minion until further notice.

And finally, I've got a beef with the messages this book/movie sends to our young girls (notably the 7 year-olds sitting behind me in the theater kicking my seat and giggling):

My life is nothing without the boy I love.
Not only one impossibly-handsome boy should be in love with me but two.
I should immediately reconcile with the boy that destroyed my life the minute he'll take me back - no questions or reservations.
I will do whatever it takes to be with this boy no matter who it hurts even if it means ending my life.
My boy will have 12-pack abs and two cannons with which he'll carry me off into the sunset after I throw myself off the precipice of desperation.

As I said - far too much drama, Mama! I'll take a goofy romantic comedy any day over this emo-fest!

I'm About to Get Schooled

2009-11-17T15:02:00.000-08:00

I stumbled across a writing prompt challenge while reading Mama's Losin' It's blog. She had around five different prompts but this one caught my eye and I thought I would use it:

Describe in 1000 words or less a time when something happened and you knew that life would never be the same.

This prompt is so rich with possibilities I couldn't pass it up. There are so many posts I could write off of this one idea:

My third date with my husband at the San Diego Wild Animal Park where I looked at our entwined fingers and realized if I didn't break up with him I'd marry him (we went on the fourth date and it's still going.)
Looking into my newborn baby girl's eyes and getting lost in her dimpled cheeks.
Finding out at 21 weeks pregnant that I was having twin boys when I thought I was having our second girl (oops!)
Or recently being informed I have to go back to college this spring and take two classes to stay certified to teach preschool... (hey, one of these does not belong with the others!)

Argh! Back to college? Really? I haven't stepped into a classroom where I was the student in 17 years. I'm gonna be that "old lady" glaring at the youths texting in the back of the classroom. Last time I was in school I had a word processor! The most I had to juggle was my social life, my job, Frat parties (I'm the DU "Little Sister" second row, fourth from the left), keggers, and, oh yeah, school.

Now I have a few more balls in the air: husband, 3 teens, yellow lab, job, church, don't forget blogging, and hopefully, some continued social life. On the plus side, my occasional alcholic beverage of choice will be nothing compared to my chugging-beer-through-a-funnel-days of my former college experience. So there's that. Ahh, but where will the homework fit in? It is insulting enough I have to give up my Tuesday and Wednesday nights. My midweek church services. My watching American Idol live. Will I have to scale back my Twitter time too? Horror! I guess I will be watching DVR'd AI and burning the midnight oil. Thank goodness it's just temporary.

So, I wouldn't say my life will never be the same but it will be seriously altered from January through May 2010... I'll keep you posted.

Lordy, Lordy Look Who's 40!

2009-11-14T14:45:00.000-08:00

No, not me. I passed that landmark last year. No, it's...

Sesame Street! The best kids show of all time. Bar none. Hands down. End of story.

Sesame Street is simple and comforting. Like an old friend, you can sit your kids down with Sesame Street and know they are safe. Nothing inappropriate is going to be said. There won't be any attitudes displayed that you will have to try and scrub away when your child decides to try it on for size. Values, morals and diversity are displayed uncomplicated by politics or agendas. There are no commercials to cause Little One to come into the kitchen asking for something outrageous for lunch... or Christmas. Just good clean fun and learning. (For more on my feelings about what kids watch on TV read - Garbage In, Garbage Out.)

Considering the ages of my kids, 16, 13 & 13, one would assume it has been at least half a decade since my kids and I last had an encounter with all things fuzzy where the air is sweet.

That was true up until a few weeks ago when my son had his tonsils and adenoids removed. It was a harrowing ordeal for a thirteen year old who has never really felt pain. He was a trooper but he is male after all. To say he needed a little TLC is an understatement. It was a cuddly-blanket-stuffed-animal-cozy-jammies fest for a week following the surgery. And upon his return home from Children's Hospital, my brave 13 year old, craving a return to a simpler time, accompanied by his Mommy, uncomplicated by pain, tuned in to Sesame Street for a little comfort on a Monday morning. And he loved every minute of it. Happy birthday, until we meet again, Sesame Street...

"Sunny days sweeping the clouds away. On my way to where the air is sweet..."

Breakfast of Chumpians

2009-11-10T14:47:00.000-08:00

We don't do breakfast well in our house.

Sometimes we don't do it at all.

Gasp!

I know, I know. This flies in the face of every healthy edict that demands breakfast be your biggest meal of the day. It's especially dreadful when you consider that I have three growing teens at home (who are all taking various health classes and come home girded with all this information about how we aren't feeding them properly although most times they are making their own decisions now - but that's a different story). But what if you just aren't hungry at 6:30 or 7:00am? Are we supposed to force feed ourselves and thus arrive at work or school with a tummy ache?

I say no.

I trust my body to know what is right for me. I listen to its cues that tell me when I am hungry or thirsty or when I need to pee. I believe that just like when we were babies, our bodies will tell us when to eat and if we listen closely, what to eat as well. The God in whom I believe who created the whole universe to work in perfect synchronicity surely made my body with just as much care and perfection. I just need to listen to it. I haven't been listening for a long time.

But what about the kids? Surely they can not perform at their peak at school until lunch without a big breakfast to fuel them, right? I don't know. Do we trust their bodies too?

No one in our family is hungry first thing in the morning. My three teens are all night owls like their mom. Our body clocks are wired for late nights and even later mornings. On Saturdays no one sets foot in the kitchen before 10am - probably because we're still asleep, ssh! So when we do break our fast it is around 10 or 11am. This is when we are hungry: brunch. (Bring on the Mimosas!) This time of course is suspiciously close to school lunch time in some grades which works out perfectly during the right years not so good in high school when some lunches are at 1pm.

So we have come to a compromise. Eat something. I don't care how much or little. Just eat something.

Trolling for Candy

2009-10-17T14:12:00.000-07:00

I've never liked Halloween. Not even when I was little.

Here's why:

Too much mischief being done.

Strangers at the door.

No good costumes for a girl over the age of seven.

Teens in lame non-costumes trolling for candy with a pillow case (wait that was me!)

Too few houses with quality candy.

Freezing in skimpy costumes.

Fear over poison & razorblades.

The lame-o that rings your bell when the lights are off after 9pm.

Michael Meyers.

Looking like a hooker every year in my costume - or so my dad told me somewhere around my 12th year: "Dad, how do you like my costume?" "You look the same as you do every year, like a Hooker."

You get the picture.

Then in '94 I got pregnant. My daughter was due on October 28th. I was terrified. Would she be a little late and be born on the dreaded day? Luckily, no. She was 5 days early. However, her birthday was close enough that I knew overlap would be inevitable and I would be forced to be festive. Hence the decorating began!

It was okay for a few years when the kiddos were little and I made their costumes like Raggedy Ann, twin dinosaurs, a present, a flower, twin puppy dogs. Those were fun times. They were lean financial times. But I guess there was a vicarious enjoyment through the kids and a creative energy that I enjoyed.

Now as a preschool teacher we have a Fall Festival every October where the Preschoolers and their families come and trick or treat on a Saturday morning through our decorated classrooms. The kiddos are adorable and polite. I even dress up - a little. And on the last day of school before Halloween the kids come to school in costume and parade around the school. Their cuteness is a little redemption for having to endure another October 31st.

However, at home, my kids are all teenagers now and it is back to: too much mischief, no good costumes, trolling for candy with a pillow case... And, wait for it, this year for my daughter's 16th birthday we are planning a costume party.

Lord have mercy.

Czar We Having Fun Yet?

2009-09-06T15:28:00.000-07:00

Honestly, I'm not.

This political Obama drama has worn thin.

I'll admit I am not a fan. I don't like the debt we are in. I didn't like Cash for Clunkers. And, although I believe we need healthcare reform, I don't like what is on the table and don't think it should be pushed through as quickly as they approved the stimulus I didn't agree with. I am leery of the many Czars and their power unhindered by accountability to the American People. I think my kids should watch political speeches with their parents instead of at school with peer pressure and unfiltered messages from their teachers. Oh, and I think if you really believe we are killing the planet with greenhouse gases you should stop eating meat because the livestock we eat does more to contribute to "climate change" than the car you drive.

These views may not make me popular but they don't make me a racist as I have been called recently. Nor does it make me an "heir of Bin Laden," part of an "angry mob," or a "domestic terrorist." I'd rather like to think of myself as a woman who cries during the National Anthem, sacrificed years with my deployed husband, and loves America and the freedoms she affords us. A Patriot who never really cared too much about politics until I became concerned about losing some of what I think makes America great.

I'll concede our President inherited a lot of problems and a tough job. Bush takes a lot of heat these days for the mess he left behind. But he was not alone on the hill and there were many right along with him that are still there pointing fingers at policies they wrote off on. I can not tolerate the blame game any longer. Play the hand you've been dealt and take responsibility for what you now control.

It's okay with me if you like President Obama, the job he is doing, and the goals he has for this administration. Its not okay to call me names, think I am a racist, ignorant, unenlightened, or an elitist. Debating is fine as long as we are both open-minded enough to listen. I'll admit I may not have all the answers and there is a good chance I am wrong - there is a lot of disinformation out there today. That's okay. Let's both be humble enough to acknowledge we may be wrong. And finally, please grant me the courtesy and respect I deserve although we disagree. I'll try to afford you the same.

Can we just agree to disagree?

Garbage In, Garbage Out

2009-08-13T20:37:00.000-07:00

I think we did the right thing...

To put it mildly, my kids are naive. Maybe you could go so far as to say they are clueless. As other teens are chortling away at some crass comment, my three are lost in space wondering what they missed. Half of the lyrics in popular music float right over their heads. Most sexual comedic overtures in TV and movies leave them nonplussed - since they don't get it.

This has become a liability.

We did it with the best intentions - sheltered our kids - but now they are doing more than missing a beat, they are missing the band.

I have always ascribed to the "garbage in, garbage out" theory when it comes to raising our kids. Therefore, if we wanted to keep our kids innocent and well, kids, we believed that they should be exposed to age-appropriate movies, TV, music, and conversation. They were raised on PBS - Sesame Street, Barney, and gasp! Teletubbies, Disney movies and Christian radio. No movie rated PG was screened until they were in grade school and they were at or close to 13 for PG13. As younguns, they went to bed at 7pm and all adult programing followed bedtime. To say we have been vigilant is an understatement.

Then early last year I got some hints that there may be a problem, a disconnect from the world they live in, that may hinder them as they navigate the perilous and murky waters of teen life. Mid-semester my daughter came home from a rigorous debate in Freshman Social Studies with an important question - "What is an abortion?" What? How could she not know this? Has this topic never come up in the last 15 years? Moreover, how did the teacher not preface the discussion with some explanation of the topic. Alas, no. No preface, no exposure in 15 years, and no doubt the teacher assumed every one in the class had at least some knowledge of the subject. Uh, yeah, not so much.

Another hint: singing along to Baby Got Back by Sir Mix Alot and not having a clue what half of the nasty lyrics are referring to. Okay, okay, something needs to be done.

I don't regret keeping them unadulterated. The benefits have been tremendous: sweet temperaments, few attitude problems, believers in God, and basically harmonious familial relationships. I give my kids credit for making great choices and being wonderful examples to their peers.

Hopefully that foundation will remain intact.

So let the sex-ucation and crass-crash-courses begin. This should be interesting. I have decided to start with a screening of John Hughes movies - might as well make it fun!

If You Want My Opinion...

2009-07-31T14:56:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't noticed, I am opinionated. Everyone is. Some are better at toning it down perhaps. But toning anything down is not my strong suit. I am, in every way, an "in your face" type personality.

Don't hate me 'cause I'm loud.

This then is my conundrum. I know not everyone who reads my blog will appreciate my opinion. So, vainly I search for non-provoking narratives with which to entertain and not offend. Yet opinions and provocation are the very nature of a blog. Blogging: espousing my insights, feelings, concerns, wisdom and stories - all imbued with my opinion. Perhaps if I cared less what people thought about me it would not be as threatening to let it all hang out. But in the words of Watts in the movie Some Kind of Wonderful, "I can't have you hate me!"

Or is it I have grown so accustomed to our sterile, passionless, politically-correct, tightrope of polite convention that permeates our society that I no longer feel safe expressing myself? I think I'm on to something. Somewhere we have lost the right to have an opposing opinion. We immediately become intolerant and backward when we don't go with the flow of what is currently being condoned, championed or force-fed by the world around us. Politics, climate change, religion, sexuality, choice, marriage, families, and more are all strictly policed as one-way topics - we all must believe One Way or we are bigoted.

I think as Christians we see this more and more prevalently. Especially in the media. If I am a Christian I am not to be trusted and my opinions are suspect. Guilty of intolerance before proven innocent. As if anyone who could believe in the "unproven" Word of God is unenlightened and an ignoramus. I agree that some are but not all of us. On that note, let me know when they submit incontrovertible proof on the Big Bang, Evolution and Climate Change theories...

For now I'll stick with my opinions. They may be wrong. They may be suspect. But they're mine and without them I have nothing to say.

What Happened to Hiring a Babysitter?

2009-07-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

It seems I have developed an intolerance.

Okay, I'll admit it is not my first. Nor will it be my last. But this peeve is the most insistent and pervasive at this junction in my life and it seems I run into in wherever I go.

What causes me so much grief?

Bratty kids.

Maybe working with preschoolers has something to do with it. But not for the reasons you think. There are no bratty kids in my classes. You see, when Junior or Princess is in my class, I have control. There are rules and there are consequences and I don't make idle threats. And since I only have them for 3 hours, I don't have time to get lazy about following through. After their initial testing and challenging is over and they see I mean business it is smooth sailing - most of the time. Then I am free to love and nurture the kids and that always brings out the best in them and the best in me.

Maybe I'm just a control freak.

Or perhaps it is because my own 3 are nearly grown. Lets face it, teenagers bring a whole new set of problems but none involve them running, squealing to & fro between the tables in a nice restaurant on my Girl-cation to Seattle with the parents sitting blithely by like they are on a quiet date for two. Hire a babysitter. Nor do they throw themselves bodily on the floor wailing for a treat while Mom casually stocks two shopping carts at the supermarket. Engage your teenage neighbor for two hours during nap time. Lastly, they have long outgrown pounding the walls and crawling under the dressing room doors at Kohls while a half-naked mother screams, "Stop it or I'll slap you!" to no effect. My daughter is available for $6 an hour.

All these activities are for me quiet, kid-free oasis of time where I regroup and relax.

This was just as true if not more so when my kids were young. As a mostly stay-at-home mom I lived for these quiet times of decompressing. Only when I was in dire straits would I bring my kids on these outings. Picking up a couple of things at the grocery store? Okay. Country Buffet, Applebees on Kids Night, Cici's Pizza? No Problem. But clothes shopping? Forget it. As a young family of 5 we did not have the means to hire a sitter, except for date night, so I went shopping or ran errands when Hubs was home with the kids. Period. (They are his kids too and it is not babysitting when you stay home to care for your own children - don't get me started...)

However, it seems there are a lot of parents who feel differently. What a shame. To those parents I say this: You may amused at Junior's "harmless fun" as they cross by my table on their 5th trip around the restaurant since my first bite of grilled salmon with garlic mashed potatoes and fresh green beans and you may be able to effectively tune out Princess's pout and continuous pleas for check out candy while I am stuck behind you at Target but - I CAN NOT. And since I am not able to discipline your child as I see fit or instruct you how to do it yourself, I would appreciate it if you got a sitter or went on Dad's day off and ceased ruining my inner-peace mojo.

Maybe I'm just getting old.

Tina Triva

2009-07-06T21:42:00.000-07:00

A while back a viral note was going around on Facebook. It got so popular there were even articles written about it on MSN & Yahoo. The note's title was 25 Random Things About Me and my home page was filled with friends' posts for weeks. To participate you simply noted facts, habits, goals, or trivia about yourself in order to bring your long-lost friends up-to-date on who you turned out to be after high school. Then you tagged your friends to do the same. The notes were fun to read and many were surprisingly personal. I tried to be funny and vulnerable without getting uncomfortably personal. Of course, true to myself, a lot of my humor is self-depreciating because really, who else can I poke fun at?

Here are my 25 random things:

1. I stink at typing without spellcheck.

2. I have been cheated out of going to Paris twice - if I don't get there in this lifetime I will feel incomplete.

3. I intended to teach college students but ended up teaching preschool.

4. God has a sense of humor.

5. Kids magnify all your flaws - even the ones you didn't know you had and they don't have to be yours to have this work.

6. My ego cashes checks my body can't cover.

7. I do most of the talking in my house (and everywhere else!)

8. TV rarely interests me because I don't like to get sucked in.

9. I tend to be pathetically ignorant of current events and yet so very opinionated - a dangerous combo.

10. Rarely have I applied myself 100 percent in my estimation.

11. My kids think I'm crazy and my husband is sure of it.

12. If my salvation is so important to me why don't I tell more friends about Jesus?

13. My family is my life but getting away once in awhile reminds me I have one.

14. I can't go a day without singing - please don't make me.

15. I care too much what other people think about me.

16. Laughter really IS the best medicine.

17. I didn't live up to my expectations since I didn't know what to expect.

18. God is God & I am not.

19. Of course 40 is the new 30 since I only feel 20.

20. I am the loudest person I know and it frequently embarasses me.

21. Why does thinking my life is half over scare me when I could die any day?

22. I am the worst at keeping in touch with friends & family even though I love them & think of them all the time.

23. Arrogance irks me since it hits so close to home.

24. My kids can make me feel success and failure simultaneously.

25. I have been told by too many preschoolers that I have a big butt - I really should do something about it.

There you have it. Some Tina Trivia. Mostly my life can be summed up by the picture above - I love it when its all about me (& it doesn't hurt to be surrounded by gorgeous men in life)!

The Chinese Incident

2009-07-02T17:11:00.000-07:00

Before I began writing My Lipstick Life I started a "blog" of sorts on my Facebook page. My intention was to post funny incidents from Preschool and share the lives of these precious, precocious, and sometime hilarious four & five year olds. I now accomplish this here except for my first post back in March. I have reprinted it here for laughs. If you would like more kiddie fun search my posts for the "preschool" label. Enjoy.

Flying in the PC-Free Zone Or kids say the darnedest things!

Entry 1 – 03/09/09

The Chinese Incident

Every year from late winter through the end of school in May we have many families touring the school trying to make the momentous decision where to send Junior or Sweet Pea to preschool. With our fabulous and fearless director, Meg, at the helm guiding them through the classrooms, explaining the curriculum, and answering their questions, each family spends time observing the class in action. We try to go on with the class as if unobserved but this is rarely possible as the kids are so easily distracted and a group of people standing in our doorway is a great excuse.

So stands a hapless mother, her two children, and Meg as the students are lining up at the sink adjacent to the door to wash up for snack. The lovely mother of undetermined Asian descent is smiling and nodding as she listens to Meg. Her two kids peek out from behind her legs to check out the class when a small hand points an unwashed finger at her son and exclaims, “Look! A Chinese boy! Look! A Chinese Boy! Look! A Chinese boy!” over and over like an atrocious skipping record by a band called the Faux Pas.

Stunned and at a loss as to how to halt this train wreck, Meg quickly asks the three if they’d like to see the playground and they are ushered quickly out our door. The students continue with their handwashing, eagerly anticipating snack and completely oblivious to my poorly-concealed laughter. Hopefully the mother understands that innocence is not politically correct. I have no idea if they will be back but if they do, they’d better be prepared to fly in the PC-Free Zone…

Living With OBD - Obsessive Ball Disorder

2009-06-14T17:46:00.000-07:00

Maybe its because he no longer has them himself, but my dog, Jack, is obsessed with balls.

Can you see the manic glaze in his eye? There is a ball just out of view in this picture and he will not rest until he has it. Literally. Will. Not. Rest.

Inklings of the disorder were apparent when we first met Jack back in April at his foster family's house. Actually, it was one of Hubby's requirements - that he be "ball crazy" - when he filled out our application at Safe Harbor Lab Rescue. Hubs has some hopes of training him to be a huntin' dog... Obviously retrieving would be required.

Anyway.

The full-blown OBD was evidenced one Saturday when Jack & I went to hang out with our neighbors in our cul-de-sac's weekly-driveway-picnic-drinkfest that I attend occasionally when I spy them next door. Love my neighbors. Like beer. But not every weekend night. So, I brought a camp chair, a beer, and Jack out to socialize. Jack promptly found an old baseball with split seams and made the rounds begging for a throw until I look down after 30 minutes at a ball of red string. The baseball cover was later found after passing through Jack's large intestine - and here I thought it fell off with a hard throw...

With the then remains of the baseball in the trash and at loose ends, Jack decides to play Monkey in the Middle to my 14 year old neighbor, Matt, and his friend throwing a football. The monkey rarely got the ball but doggedly ran between the teens for another hour. Even after they switched to a baseball & gloves and spread farther apart, Jack would not rest. Worried that he was going to pass out, I dragged him by the collar into the house and to his water bowl in the kitchen. It is only when I turn around and see bloody paw prints tracking through the house from the garage that I realize that Jack has run the pads off his paws and still did not stop. This is dedication and adoration in the extreme. This is a massive case of Obsessive Ball Disorder.

I don't know if Jack learned his lesson after being unable to walk for two days and suffering through ball-restriction for a week, but I did. Never again will I underestimate the depth of his obsession. I now know, I must be the parent, the heavy, the enforcer.

I have to be the one to say "enough is enough, Jack, leave your balls alone!"

Mii Fit?

2009-06-10T18:10:00.000-07:00

Some of you may remember when I boldly declared "game on" in I knew this day was coming... on April 20th and are wondering how the game is going.

Its not.

The game has been kicking my butt like I'm a one-legged-woman in the contest. In other words - I haven't lost. ANYTHING. Zip. Zero. Nada. And yet somehow this makes me a loser? Yes. Yes, it does.

But I have a new weapon in my arsenal. The Wii Fit. I have not missed a daily workout in almost a week. Okay, okay, maybe that's not impressive to you but I am impressed and that's all that matters! The Wii Fit activities: Yoga, Strength Training, Aerobics, and Balance Games, are so fun that I keep going even after I have hit my goal for the day. I warm up and cool down with Yoga stretches and in the middle have a blast. I even have my own cyber-personal trainer. The Body Test gives me daily feedback on how I'm doing and helps to keep me motivated - I want to get a stamp on my calendar! It's the little victories...

The only distressing thing is your Wii Fit Age which is determined with a Balance Test, your real age, and your BMI (body mass index). And my Wii Fit Age?

Older than I am. That's all you need to know.

This is day 6 - Game on! (again)

Tina vs The Tornado or Let's Get The Hail Out of Here!

2009-06-08T13:24:00.000-07:00

A sunny Sunday afternoon doing errands at the Big Box Stores can be dangerous for your health!

Enter Walmart in the sunshine and leave in the downpour. This is not a new concept for Coloradoans where the slogan goes something like: Welcome to Colorado - if you don't like the weather, wait 20 minutes.

I waited a only few minutes and sure enough there was a break in the rain. On to Petco for a bag of dog food, kids in the car listening to the iPod. As I exit lugging the 30 pound bag (why did Hubs have to go on a 62 mile bike ride today!), the sound of a tornado siren is carried to me on a light breeze. I have only heard the siren once before but being a teacher I recognize it immediately. I scan the sky in front of me as I slog to the car, open the back, and heave the bag in. Turning down the tunes I ask the kids if they hear the siren. Its not until I am checking the rearview mirror to back out of my space that I see ominous gray-green clouds behind us. A quick peek over my shoulder and "Oh my! Is that a tornado?" Sure enough, swirling just north of us is a small funnel twisting our way. At this point we are fascinated, animated and slightly motivated. We keep our eyes on the twister as I head out of the mall.

Stopped at a red light, my twin, 12 year-old boys begin to panic in the backseat as the tornado looms closer and is most certainly churning our way. My 15 year-old daughter and I are amused by their panic still being only fascinated, animated and slightly more motivated. As we are pulling away at the green light the boys give a shudder of relief and rain starts to fall heavily. Really heavily. Like, really, really heavily.

Wait. Does rain bounce? And just like that we are being pelted by golf ball, ping pong ball, and "oh my gosh was that a baseball?" sized hail. Picture this: boing! - aahh!, smash! - aahh!, crack! - aahh! and this shrieking piggy went wee, wee, wee all the way home.

Suffice it to say, I was no longer fascinated, I was extremely agitated. Forget merely animated, I was over-stimulated and laughing hysterically between cringing screams as my boys looked on with horror that I may actually be enjoying this (note to Boys, this is how your mother freaks out). And finally I was beyond motivated to get the heck out of dodge but realized that the faster I go, the bigger impact each icy piece of hell would have on my poor battered SUV. Gravity + velocity = destruction. Obviously this equation escaped all the morons who were speeding past me on their way to an insurance claim.

Despite my nerve-wrackingly slow crawl home, our car did not escape unscathed and is pocked with many little dents. But I claim a victory with no broken windows. Our house weathered the storm as far as we can see but roofers will be checking out our lid. Our poor yellow lab crawled out from under the bed when we stumbled in the garage door. And Hubs? He was chillin' on our bed with his iPod after his long ride and missed the whole thing.

But you want to know what I am most upset about? All the container plants on my patio that are now leaveless and flowerless shadows of their former glory. Argh! But really? We are counting our blessings, looking out unbroken windows.

G-N-Oh-no-we-dint!

2009-06-03T14:49:00.000-07:00

For any of you who may have gotten a little too rowdy at your last Girls Night Out - a poem:

We've been here for hours

Yet we're still shouting.

People are staring.

That couple is pouting.

After only one drink,

Shrill laughter abounds.

By the end of the night,

There are sillier sounds.

Hubbys, jobs, kids,

These topics all covered.

On to new sex toys,

Positions discovered.

Try not to gossip.

Its hard not to fall.

Nothing is sacred.

We women tell all.

So one last drink,

Now it gets gushy.

"You're my best friends!"

The hugs are all mushy.

Our make-up's all gone.

We'll sing one last song.

Ten-minute goodbyes,

With tears in our eyes.

On home into bed

With a friend-happy glow.

Regrets in the morning

'Til your next GNO.

Thelma and Louise - Or Girls On Vacation

2009-05-31T18:58:00.000-07:00

I love my husband. Let's get that said.

Now I can move onto why vacationing with a girlfriend (or gayfriend) instead of Hubby is so relaxing.

It only costs half of what it would with Hubs.

We can shop 'til we drop with nary a sigh.

Conversation is never a struggle - talking over eachother means there's plenty to say.

I get the whole double bed to myself.

Snarky comments during people-watching are world-class sport.

I get real feedback when considering buying something or wearing something.

Sloppy drinking and over-eating are so much funnier.

There is always a green light during spending - "yes, you have to have that 4th pair of bling sunglasses!"

Her wandering eye never gets on my nerves - I too can appreciate the view.

Spa services are always on the agenda either before or during the vacation.

And best of all - when I go to bed all I have to do is sleep.

Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade the family or couple vacation for a trip with my girlfriend but really? Why not do both?

Last year Vegas, this year Seattle...

The Mouths of Babes

2009-05-10T19:03:00.000-07:00

To celebrate Mother's Day I have compiled some of the funniest answers from this year's Mother's Day cards completed in my Pre-K classes.

Mommy looks pretty when:

she wears her purple shirt.

she has a happy heart and not "bes" mean.

its Friday.

she uses her hair pretties.

she gets out of the shower.

Mommy loves:

Korean dramas.

my brother.

Mommy looks funniest when:

its Christmas.

she wears a honey mask.

she gets out of the shower (same kid!)

If I could buy Mommy a special present it would be:

more garden stuff - she loves garden stuff!

purple ice cream (same kid as purple shirt).

beer

Mommy doesn't like:

when I don't do stuff for her.

Daddy.

when I grow up too fast.

The best thing Mommy cooks is:

green beans.

eggs with no yellow - she can do that you know!

cottage cheese

chicken for dinner - it really is good!

Mommy doesn't like it when:

I wake up early.

I bite my sister.

I get cranky - I get tired!

Sugar poops in the house.

Mommy's age is:

Being a Mom is the best job God ever designed. Cheers to all the great Moms who have done their very best to raise great kids. And to a special mom who did a great job raising me - I love you, Mom!

Not So Sweet and Sassy or Been There Done that at 5 years old

2009-05-06T21:31:00.000-07:00

I have a beef with some parents.

I know this is not going to be well-received by everyone who currently resides with a precious, sweet, adorable, angelic, preschool-age daughter who deserves nothing but the very best... but I have to say it: (Disclaimer: the following opinions are those held by the author and in no way endorsed by Blogger.com) you are ruining your Sweetums, Sugarpies, and Pumpkins! Stop now before there is nothing left for her to look forward to!!

Okay, breathing, breathing...

I teach in 3 pre-kindergarten classes filled with wonderful 4 & 5 year old girls. Sweet girls who hug me and love me daily from their head to their toes - that never touch the ground in wedgie 2-3 inch flip flops. Their calves are so well defined I doubt they can wear flat shoes anymore. Their dangle and hoop earrings are just a pull away from disaster. The High School Musical camis, Camp Rock mini skirts and Hannah Montana lipglosses all age your 5 year-old-diva to a ripe 16...

Just say no.

This is not a new rant for me. It started when I had to make my own decisions not to let my daughter wear heels until she was a teen, pierce her ears until 10 years old, wear nail polish unless it was a special treat when Grammie came, and no make-up would be worn until 8th grade. Was I trying to be a strict "Christian" mom? No. I just feel that somethings should wait until you're older so you have something to look forward to. Now my daughter is 15 and enjoys doing all these things since they are relatively new. Had these milestones been accomplished by age 5, the new things might have been: tattoos, dying her hair, and piercing places other than her ears - once. Let's face it, teens want something new and novel to define their coming of age. What do you want to be new for your daughter?

I digress.

The latest insult (and reason for this rant in particular) is a party place in the mall that opened recently called Sweet and Sassy. They specialize in planning a party for your princess that has some girls at the preschool in a frenzy. Your party will include: a makeover, mani & pedi, hairstyling, fashion show, cake and (are you ready?) a limo ride with all your friends. Good night, People! What's left to do? When you go to Prom? Or on your wedding day? These girls have done it all by their 6th birthdays! Updo - check. Spa experience - check. Makeover - check. Limo ride - check.

I understand we want to give our kids the very best of everything but by doing so what are we taking away from their futures?

Please, just say no and save something for later.

Unless you want your daughter demanding a helicopter ride to Prom.

I <3 Urban Dictionary!

2009-05-02T09:53:00.000-07:00

May 2: problem saturation

A process by which Mainstream Media addresses an issue incessantly, building up to a sense of pending doom. Of course, the problem, while worrisome, does not pose the grave threat they would like you to believe. Finally, MSM abandons coverage of the problem completely, moving on to another problem.

"Honey, why don't we hear any news about the drug cartels anymore?"

"That was last month's problem saturation, dear."

Problem saturation - http://www.urbandictionary.com/ hits the nail right on the head with this Word of the Day! (Truly I heart you UD! Where else can I look up all those hip words and phrases that the teens use? ie: asshat, pwned, bromance, tool, etc.)

Ahh, the media! They are so adept at stirring the public into a frenzy. Observe Heidi and Spencer above. They are completely isolated on a deserted beach and yet are tools enough to buy into the hype and wear masks. No wonder Brody broke off his bromance with Spencer! He is totally pwned by media. I bet they aren't eating pork either. What an asshat.

Regular influenza - the flu - kills 36,000 people a year. Let me know when the Swine Flu, H1N1, Hamthrax, Spamdemic catches up. Stay tuned to your local stations for next week's problem saturation...

What's in a name?

2009-04-29T17:01:00.000-07:00

New spelling system.

OKAY. How would you pronounce this child's name?

Le-ah
Leah? - NO; Lee - A? - NOPE; Lay - a? - NO; Lei? - Guess Again.
This child attends a school in Livingston Parish, LA. Her mother is irate because everyone is getting her name wrong. It's pronounced
"Ledasha".
When the Mother was asked about the pronunciation of the name, she said,"the dash don't be silent." SO, if you see something come across your desk like this please remember to pronounce the dash. And if they axe you why, tell them the dash don't be silent.

I received this forwarded email today from my girlfriend, Barb. Looking beyond the racial vernacular I immediately focused in on the name issue. The painful reality of attendance-calling throughout school years, introducing yourself who people won't remember your name 5 minutes later, telling and retelling the boring story of how you got your name, etc. I know first hand what poor Le-dash-a is going through. For I too have an identity crisis.

My name is simple and easy to remember.

However, Tina is not my name.

Confused? You're not alone. Here's the scoop: When my mom was expecting me she & my father decided to honor their mothers by naming me after them, Nancy Elizabeth. All well & good right? Wrong. Neither of them liked either name. So, they pulled Tina out of thin air? No. My father's mother, Elizabeth, was called Bettina by her French in-laws as Bettina is a derivative of Elizabeth in France as opposed to Liz or Beth. But Bettina was a little over-the-top for my mom so they settled on Tina. Whew! Got it? Pretty boring story, huh? I can't imagine how many times I have repeated it throughout my many years in grade school, college, getting a job, meeting new people, and finally, on my formal wedding invitations where everyone on my husband side wondered what the heck happened to Tina and who the hell is Nancy Elizabeth?

Ah well, Mom, I think in your heart of hearts you knew - for a personality this big - one name just wouldn't do...

Besides, Nancy just doesn't work for me but Tina beats the pants off of Le-dash-a! Word.

Teens Will Be Teens

2009-04-26T16:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my family & I went downtown to hang out and encourage homeless teens with http://www.standupforkids.com/. Our job as volunteers was to play games with the teens, organize donations, set a positive family example, and listen to them if they wanted to talk.

We started out there organizing hygiene-bag donations between boys and girls. Then it got interesting. We were asked to add condoms and lubricants to each bag since they just had 3000 donated. (My 12 year old twin boys were not involved with this activity. They were playing Foosball with other teens - thus, we avoided a detailed explanation regarding lubes & flavors... ack!) Distressingly, 2 out of the 3 girls present at the shelter were already pregnant. However, this did not stop them from digging into the donated box of multi-colored, multi-textured, multi-flavored condoms with glee. I didn't see a lot of interest from the boys though... Come on Boys, "no glove - no love!"

After loading up the prophylactics & lubes we mingled with the kids. Most were eating lunch. Some were texting on their cell phones (yes - they had them! huh?) and others were hovering around a laptop one of the volunteers brought for their use. I sat at the laptop table & painted "Liz's" toenails. She is engaged to "Raven" who was also at the shelter. He looked over the age-limit of 21 but they were probably a package deal. Although I asked no questions she poured out her story to me over orange-toenail-polishing. And when the computer was free, she showed me pictures of her 17 month old daughter on her Yearbook and MySpace pages. Then she fed her Vampire (a MySpace app), updated her status, and answered a few emails as did EVERY OTHER TEEN in the shelter.

This blew my mind!

These kids have no home. They have been in and out of jail. Some are pregnant with no hope for the future. They don't know where their next meal will come from - but they are plugged into the social networks and texting on their cell phones.

I guess teens will be teens regardless of circumstances.

The big question is: What do their status updates say?

The Dentist Sucks

2009-04-23T19:57:00.000-07:00

Oh Dentist, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways:

You cost me my paycheck - literally (remember, I work PT)
You insult my tongue with claims that it refuses to get out of the way then push & stab it with your mirror
You chat & ask me questions when there is no reasonable way I can answer aside from grunts & snorts
You cost me my paycheck
You assure me it will just be a little pinch when it hurts like...
I have to come back 3 times to finish with one tooth
You cost me my paycheck
Your drilling refuses to be drowned out by my iPod
You tell me to open wider when I already have the biggest mouth on the planet
You cost me my paycheck

And finally,

You make me remove my lipstick!

Shame on you Dr. Dentist! But thanks for the smile...

Reduce, Reuse & Recycle

2009-04-22T17:33:00.000-07:00

A blog in honor of Earth Day.

Although I have had a few setbacks since "This is day one - Game on!" (Yes, I know this is only day three.) I am still committed to Reduce. As it is my hope to Reuse all those clothes I somehow outgrew and Recycle the clothes I am wearing presently.

With greenest sincerity and in the name of Earth Day,

Amen

Okay, you may have detected at smidgen of flippancy over the whole Earth Day hoopla. Here's my take. We need to be good stewards and take care of what God has created but calm down people, let's take care of it - not worship it. Ultimately, God is in control. Let's worship Him instead.

I knew this day was coming...

2009-04-20T15:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, so, the fat has hit the fan.

The annual trip to the doctor has resulted in the The Inevitable.

Yes, you guessed it, the shape up, slim down, eat less, exercise more, if-you-don't-change-heart-disease-diabetes lecture that I have been dreading. I knew it was coming. With assets my generous - who doesn't? Come on! Couldn't the doctor have just agreed with my "more to love" rationalization? Alas, no. And although I have been avoiding the doctor for as long as possible for this very reason, sadly, as long as possible ended.

Now here I am.

Accordingly, today I turned over a new leaf and no sooner am I in the school office than the secretary is offering to bring me Starbucks. An hour later I am in the classroom and a parent says she's going on a run to - wait for it - Starbucks, "do I want anything?" Argh! The final insult was snacktime where 2 giant, frosted, decorated, Paradise Bakery yumminess, chocolate chip & sugar cookies were brought in for a birthday. Get behind me Satan!

But, resisting it all and fighting the good fight, I blog victoriously, feeling saintly and courageous, girded for the next battle:

Dinner

This is day one - Game on!

Texting, Texting 1-2-3

2009-04-19T14:08:00.000-07:00

When I was 15 (early 80s - shhh, don't tell) my brother & I got our own phone line. We weren't rich. My parents just did not desire to hear the phone ring non-stop every night. And ring every night it did. We spent countless hours on the phone. Partly because my 3-years-older brother had a placard on his bedroom desk from his friends that read "Social Director." This is still true today but even more so in High School. (Also, our parents were frequently traveling so our house was Party Central but that is a different story...)

Fast forward to my own 15 year old daughter. She has a cell phone. She also spends countless hours on the phone - or at least her thumbs are on the phone.

This then is the crux of my blog.

Hours on end of discussing "are you sure he was looking at me?" and "did you see what Marcy wore?" helped me to refine my dialog skills and hone my rapier wit. Conversational skills that have served me very well these last - you do the math - years. However is my lovely, shy daughter going to learn how to think on her feet to keep a conversation going if she never gets to practice? Is it possible to be charming and vivacious while texting? How will she master the proper inflection that screams sarcasm or the pregnant pause into which so much can be conveyed?

These are the things that cross my mind in the shower.

Why Lipstick?

2009-04-18T14:57:00.000-07:00

Why My Lipstick Life?

Well, in life things change (duh) but in my life there is one constant, you guessed it, lipstick. At any time you can find upward of a dozen different lipsticks & glosses in my purse. Nothing of significance has transpired in my life sans lipstick. Flat broke? Wet N Wild. In the money? Channel Fushia. Scales up? Lip Plumper. Scales down? Matte Finish. 22 hour labor? Long Lasting with multiple apps...

Suffice it to say, if it happens to me, it happens with lipstick on!