Warren Luck

When Mac and I first got engaged his family would joke about "Warren Luck" and if I was ready to handle all that comes with it. Basically, this luck or curse was their own version of Murphy's Law; anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

At the time I laughed it off. After 16 years I get what they're saying, especially now that I am raising three Warrens. I have learned to be prepared for anything, but not the normal things. I don't usually carry band-aides in my purse, but I do keep permanent glue, bobby pins, and assortment of oils, crayons, and sometimes bubbles. I have always been a flexible person, but now I have mastered the art of "go with the flow" and thinking outside of the box.

A2 is a walking, talking, real life example of the Warren Luck. If something strange is going to happen, it will happen to her, every time. She is my real life Junie B. Jones. This Warren Luck isn't all bad. A2 has learned to roll with whatever happens. She turns in a pumpkin person, the eye falls off, "Oh, well. Now she is winking." Trying to make stress balls for mom, balloon busts, flour ALL over the kitchen, "That is ok. Let's make pictures in the flour on the floor and the table and the counter, and the sink, and the refrigerator, and the mirror." A2 is the awesome go with the flow gal that she is BECAUSE of the luck.

A1 somehow has figured out a way to escape the Warren Luck so far. Maybe this is the only thing she got from me...

A3 seems to have caught a major case of the Warren Luck. Usually it involves health. Someone sneezes across the store at Walmart? Amelya will catch their cold. Uneven sidewalk? Amelya will find it and trip. Last night Amelya's luck landed us in the ER. She decided to sleep on Addelyn's top bunk. For some reason, she fell asleep at the edge of the bed where the ladder is, basically the only spot that isn't enclosed by a railing. Well, as her luck would have it, she fell out of the bed. She hit the landing and then the bookshelf, followed by the floor. Mac and I ran upstairs as soon as we heard the crash. We found her standing in her room screaming. A1 and A2 woke up and were trying to console her. Mac and I inspected her for injuries. There was blood, so much blood. I was covered in her blood. She was covered in it. Her hair was soaked. We found the gash on her ear. We knew right away we needed to take a trip to the ER. She is only 4 and she has already had 3 major catastrophes that required a visit to the hospital.

Thank goodness for my parents living close to us! My mom went along for a midnight adventure with the A Team. (Have you ever been to an emergency room at midnight on a Saturday? Crazy Town!) By the time we got to the hospital the bleeding had stopped and the crying increased. We were quickly taken to a room. The nurse was practically waiting for us when we got there. We had the best service. In a matter of two hours, A3 had her ear cleaned by a doctor, a CT scan, ear cleaned again, and then her ear glued back together. Being the champ that she is, she hardly complained the entire time she was there. She enjoyed the live hospital entertainment. A3 only got mad once and that was when the nurse closed the curtain, blocking her view of the wild hospital life.

Today she hasn't complained much. Her head isn't hurting. Her ear only hurts when her hair touches it and unfortunately her hair has a mind of it's own. Last night she fell out of bed because of Warren Luck. Last night she was saved because of Warren Luck. Anyone else would have been injured much worse, but A3 was lucky, Warren Lucky. After all, luck is what you make of it, right?

Election Rejection

I can't wait for tomorrow to be over. I have never been so excited for an election to end! I don't even care who will win. No matter which way the election turns out we are getting the short end of the stick. This is just my opinion. I am sure someone somewhere will be happy, no matter who wins. 

What bothers me the most about this election, even more than the candidates we have to choose from, is the way people are treating each other. It is like we have all forgotten how to be kind. We have taken on this mentality that our own opinion is more important then the opinions of others. We have become so intolerant of ideas that aren't our own. We have made it a mission to shout our opinions and then stick our fingers in our ears to shut out the opinions of others. Worse than sticking our fingers in our ears, we are attacking others for thinking different. We are using dirty tactics to try to get people to take our side. Name calling, threatening, destroying property, ending relationships: we are better than that.

When I told a mom-friend that I was undecided on who I would vote for, I received a lecture. I was told I was doing a disservice to my children. I was sending a message to my daughters that I didn't think a WOMAN should be president. I was telling my girls they weren't good enough to be president.

HOLD-ON-ONE-MINUTE!

I could be wrong, but I think it is more important to vote on the issues and not which bathroom the candidate would use, if he/she happened to use a public restroom. I am pretty sure if I voted for someone ONLY because she was a female would be sending the wrong message to the girls. Isn't that the same as someone voting for the other person only because he ISN'T female. Only the opposite...

As far as me telling my girls they aren't good enough... well, that is a bunch of poo! I actually know A1 is more couth than one particular candidate, and she is a smart mouthed pre-teen with a quick temper... I know she would handle situations with more grace and understanding. She is smart and a great problem solver. A2 is wonderful at seeing both sides of every situation. She is a master at compromise. She is somehow able to make sure everyone is happy with decisions and choices. She would be an awesome peace keeper in the oval office. A3 is a superstar decision maker. She sets her mind to something and somehow it happens, always. She doesn't give up. If she made a campaign promise, you had better believe she will follow through with it! Do I think my girls are good enough to be president? Absolutely.

Don't try to use my girls as a tactic against me. Trust me, I put a lot of thought into all of my decisions and the girls are always the first and last thought when I am figuring things out. I promise you I have thought of them and don't tell me I am a bad parent if I choose different than you.

I told another friend I was probably voting for a third party candidate because I didn't feel good about voting for someone based on my hate for someone else. If I vote for someone, it is because I support them, not because I dislike the other one more. To me, a vote is a stamp of approval. I am not comfortable giving that stamp to either of these candidates.

She told me that was a dumb way to look at it. She said I might as well hand my vote over to the democrat. We discussed it further, but she wasn't budging and I wasn't either. I chose to change the subject.

I told another friend it was looking like I would be voting for Johnson. Again, I was told it was a bad idea. I was what was wrong with America. There is a reason for the two party system and I am ruining things for the future of our country. Then he said I might as well vote for the republican.

WHAT??

How could my vote for the Libertarian Party be a vote for both a republican and a democrat? That doesn't make sense. I am pretty sure these two friends are trying to belittle me and make me feel bad about who I want to vote for in hopes that I will vote for their person.

I don't want to unfriend people who think different than I do. The world would be boring if we all thought the same. It really bothers me every time I read or hear someone say they will unfriend someone if they hear they are going to vote one way or the other. How about instead of unfriending them or making it your personal mission to publicly attack them, you just chose to walk away. Make the effort to love that person for making a decision and having passion, instead of hating them for thinking different.  I happen to know one of my besties is voting for Clinton and another one of my besties is voting for Donald. They both have their reasons. I respect them. They respect me. We can move past our differences, because we are more than the person we are voting for.

The truth is there is a higher power in charge. Someone greater than us. Someone greater than any of the candidates. Someone who is ready for us to love one another and stop being rude.

I am making the choice to live with kindness, vote with my heart, and to show my girls that they do have choices. I want to show my girls they don't have to go with popular beliefs. They can, and should, go with what feels right. Even though my candidate probably won't win, I can go to sleep at night knowing I made the decision that didn't hurt my heart. That means it was the right decision for me!

Now, can we please get back to being nice?

***I have already voted so there is no need to try to convince me to vote for your candidate.***

Fish in a Tree

You know how sometimes you read that one book that really speaks to you, the one that makes your life make sense? I am reading that book right now. I didn't expect this book to touch me so deeply. I picked it up because it is a Rebecca Caudill book and I want to read at least 3 to my class, so they are eligible to vote in March.

Quick summary: Ally a middle school student has always been misunderstood in school. She always found herself accidentally in trouble and was labeled as a trouble maker. To make matters worse, her dad was in the military so her family moved a lot. She wasn't ever in one school for very long. Through out the course of the story we learn that Ally is dyslexic. This story beautifully illustrates how a person with a learning disability feels in a variety of situations. 

I have been reading this to my jr high class. The students in that class can all relate to Ally and what she is going through. This book has sparked so many awesome discussions. I am amazed by the way the students are hanging on every word and usually are bummed when the chapter is over. Yesterday we read about the class student counsel election. It brought up a lot of current event topics. I am so impressed by the connections my class is making between this book and real life!

Last week the book hit me in the feels. Ally described how it felt living with a learning disability. I actually got choked up while I was reading.

It made things so clear. I couldn't help but think about A2. This is her struggle. Every day.

Then I thought about my students. This is their struggle. Every day. 

This book gave me a new sense of importance and urgency in my job. I could be the "lifeline" for these struggling students. I want to be that person. I want to make learning easier. I want to make learning make sense for them. I want to help them keep their bikes together while they ride. 

I hope every teacher adds this book to their personal reading list. It is Y.A. It isn't a challenging read. It is probably a a 4 hour uninterrupted read. This will give a whole new perspective on those kids who need more help than others. 

I can't wait to share this book with the A Team!

Clown Invasion

Late night writing can only mean one thing... I have something on my mind. Let me tell you, I do!

What do I have on my mind?

Clowns. That is right. I have clowns on my mind.

In light of the recent clown outbreak that seems to have taken over the entire country, I can't stop thinking and worrying about clowns. I am anticipating having one show up out of no where. I look out the kitchen door and expect to see a clown sitting in our back yard, watching and waiting for us to come out and play. I look past our fence and imagine a puff of menacing red hair poke out the the corn field. I drive down the road and search for clowns in the distance, clowns on porches, clowns in ditches, and clowns crossing the street. I can't stop thinking about them.

I started sending clown siting updates to friends. Every time a new clown incident pops up on fb, I forward it on. I was half laughing at the clowns until I read a fb status that clowns were spotted walking along a cornfield 10 miles south of us and then another report of clowns walking through neighborhoods 15 miles north of us. I feel surrounded.

I decided I needed to warn the girls about not talking to clowns. I thought it would be best to tell them if a clown shows up in the cornfield behind us they need to run. Obviously, this was not the best idea, since I have answered 500 questions about clowns in the last 20 minutes and my parents both reported there was constant clown talk ALL NIGHT LONG. I simply wanted my super trusting children to be aware of the dangers associated with the large shoe wearing, giant makeup smile painted creatures. I don't want them to be the next victims of clowns.

I am now officially obsessed with clowns. Like a for real, full on obsession. I am completely consumed with clown thoughts. Tonight while I was sitting out dealing with ulcer pain while the rest of my friends danced the night away, I figured out what is going on with the clowns...

We are dealing with a clown revolution. Clowns have been treated badly for years. Ever since the movie It, clowns have gotten a bad wrap. I believed the only clown you can trust is Ronald McDonald. Then out of the blue it dawned on me, he is the leader of this clown-invasion. This clown-coop has been in the works for years, even BEFORE the movie It. Ronald's entire mission involves two steps. First to trick kids into trusting clowns. "Love me and my crazy giant red shoes and I will give you fries." "Trust me, I will give you junky toys that break before you get home in your happy meals." Then after Ronald has a nation of kids loving clowns, he feeds them unhealthy food. Step two is to fatten up the children of America, so they can't outrun the clowns. With childhood obesity at an all time high, Ronald's plan is a success.

Now the clowns have gathered in secret clown clan meetings. They have organized. They are ready to take over the country by any means necessary. Clown cells are emerging from the underground lairs they have been inhabiting.  We are under attack. No one is safe from clowns. No one.

Until clowns are stopped, I will continue to pass on the sighting information. I will continue to watch for clowns in parking lots, in the back of my car, and in the pew in front of me at church. I will not take this laying down. Mostly because the heartburn is really bad right now...I am going to be ready for a clown ambush. I am not going to leave my house without being armed with makeup wipes and a spray bottle. (Without the makeup, a clown is nothing.)

I won't be a victim.

I can't wait until the field behind us is plowed. I don't even care that I will be sneezing for days. Allergies are better than clowns. 

Floundering Flutist

*Warning you are about to read the ramblings of mom on the brink of losing it. Thank you 5th grade band.


FLUTE. Oh flute. Little flute you have caused so much stress in my life. A1 decided before school started she was going to be in the band.  She was going to play the flute. She was going to be awesome. School started. She missed school. She missed a flute lesson. She missed another day of school. She missed another flute lesson. She is behind the other kids in her group. She is finding flute is hard. She refuses to practice. She isn't a natural flute player. She has to work. She doesn't like to work. She wants to quit. She isn't going to quit, I won't let her. I am the worst mom in the world. I am horrible. I am ruining her life. I am the cause of her needing to drop out of school. I am ruining my life. I am ruining peace. I am ruining relaxation. 

Normally my motto is "If it causes stress and it isn't necessary, get rid of it." Is the flute causing stress in my life? YES!!! Is it necessary? NO!!! I am I getting rid of it? NO... wait, what? I have to stick to my guns on this one. A1 has never had a challenge. She is capable of doing anything she has ever tired. This is the first thing she has EVER had to work at and she isn't coping very well. (I am not either.) Tonight we had tears, temper tantrums, and screaming. I forced her to practice tonight. I worked with her. I stuck with it. She stuck with it. She practiced for 30 minutes tonight (that includes all the self imposed interruptions).

My skills are basic at best, but that is what she needs right now so we are good, except I am not the most patient person when it comes to her tween-itude. Eye rolls are my rage button. Huffy puffy breathing is my combat trigger. Stompy feet are my quarrel switch.

Tonight was a rough night. The flute is a major problem in my life. A1 is not giving up on the flute. I am not giving up on A1. She will learn from this. I will learn from this. She has to stick with this until the end of the school year. The school year is almost over, right?

In the event that I don't survive the year with the flute, please promise me no one will play the flute at my funeral! Actually, please everyone do! I hope they pass out flutes and make everyone play Hot Cross Buns over and over and over again. I know I will be laughing. 

P.S. I am very impressed at my ability to play Hot Cross Buns even if no one else at my house was impressed at all!  

Ramblings are over.

Super-mom Is Not a Super Mom

I love this picture.

I love this picture so much.

I didn't remember this night until I saw the picture. We were all playing in our rooms while my mom was busy doing something, probably cleaning up a mess we made. Chris and I were supposed to be watching Caley, but you know what happens when you ask a 4 year old and a 7 year old to watch the baby...

Markers, markers happen, that is what happens.  I also believe Caley left graffiti on the underside of the bunk bed, but we aren't talking about that. I am pretty sure my mom was mad, I would have been. BUT I don't remember that part.

I love this picture, because even if my mom was mad (and she should have been) and her lips probably disappeared, as we came to notice they always did when she was mad, I don't remember her being mad. That means there is a good chance that when they are older the A Team won't remember all the times I have been mad at them . I can stop beating myself up over all the less than patient moments in my life, they won't remember, probably.

I love this picture because it shows normal kids who have a normal mom. I have always thought of my mom as super-mom. The mom who always had her stuff together. Always had her ducks in a row. And always had her floors mopped and laundry washed AND put away. Let's be honest, she always DID have her floors mopped, laundry washed, laundry put away, windows washed, counters cleared, floors vacuumed and basically all the other things my house is lucky to have done once week, EVERY. Single. Day. This picture shows that while my mom is a super mom she wasn't super mom, the fictitious mom character we all strive to be. The one we search Pinterest to find. The one who forgets to put herself as a priority. The one we can never be, because no one is super mom. It just isn't possible. Not even for my mom.

I love this picture because it allows me to be less hard on myself when I don't get everything right all the time. It quiets that voice in my head that says "Your mom wouldn't have done that. You aren't as good as your mom." The voice that doesn't let me fail and forgive myself.

I love this picture because it shows that my girls are normal. They won't grow up to be criminals who graffiti all over town, probably. They will grow up to be successful adults, probably, like the kids in that picture mostly did.

I love this picture because it tells be I don't have to be super-mom to be a super mom.

I love this picture because it reminds me to laugh when the girls pull crazy stunts. Laugh and take a picture. Someday they will want to look back at the time A1 decided to write about her love of Jesus on the wall,

or the time A2 decided to practice writing her numbers on the couch,

or the time A3 decided to put on makeup

and laugh as much as I do every time I think back to the days they each pulled these stunts and many others. 

PS- Mom, thanks for being a great example for me to follow. I want to be a super mom like you. (I just plan on using less bleach.)

Communication Fail

I assume when I talk to the girls about something repeatedly and they answer all the questions with the correct answers, they understand what I am talking about. BUT we all know what happens when we assume.

A2 came home from school one day during the first week mad at me. I had apparently ruined her life once again. It took her a couple of hours and bedtime for her to finally open up about me most recent offence.

"Thanks a lot mom. You didn't teach me my address. My teacher asked me my address and I didn't know it. I was the only one in my class who didn't know and now she thinks I am stupid." A2 spewed at me.

I was confused. She knows her address. She has known it since she went to kindergarten. I didn't want her getting on that big bus without being able to tell someone where she lives, just in case.  I looked into her eyes and said, "Honey, you know your address." She shook her head and gave me a sassy duck/pout face. She wasn't buying it. I had to prove it to her.

"What is your street name?" I asked.

Without hesitation she said, "C___________ Lane."

What is your house number?" I asked.

Again she didn't hesitate, "####"

"See I told you, you knew your address." I was throwing a victory party in my head.

"What!?! That is my address? Why didn't you tell me THAT was my address?" Her anger increased, especially as I started to laugh at her.

Party in my head. Over. All these years she knew the information, but she didn't know what the information was. I would ask her to tell me where she lived or what our street name was or what our house number was. I am not confident I ever asked her to tell me her address. We had a major error in communication. I assumed she knew her address was where she lived. I was wrong. Communication fail.

A2, making me a better communicator since 2009.