Limerick for Tatum

In honor of St. Patrick's Day: 

A Limerick for Tatum

There once was a dog who was stubborn
Thought mom woke too early to walk him
She gave him a nudge
But he wouldn't budge
Thought, "Come back when the sun's up and try again."

Tatum is an unusual dog.  Among his quirks:  hates early morning walks, windy days, thunderstorms and people who cough.

This week I was sick.  The kind of weird sick that morphs into a different form every day.  First the headache that moves into your sinuses.  Then the sore throat and then....the dreaded cough.  Lucky for Tatum, I didn't have enough energy to walk him much anyway.  This weekend I was well enough for a stroll around the block.  We made it past about two houses when I felt the tickle.  I tried to suppress it as long as possible until finally I couldn't wait any longer.  "Hack, snort, cough."

Tatum sits down.  "Heel," I command.  Tatum whines.  I cough again and he gets up and starts pulling me back to the house.  "Who's in charge here?" I think and I try to redirect him back down the street.  He picks up his front paw and wraps it around the leash as if he's trying to take it away from me.  When I don't stop, he sort of hop-walks on three legs behind me.  All this effort to avoid a Sunday morning walk.  He looks pretty silly and I can't imagine it is very comfortable.   I manage to unwrap the leash and, after several tries, cajole him around the block.  Whew.  That was exhausting.  Now I need to go back to bed.   I think I'll look for a Leprechaun to walk the dog until I'm feeling better.

Snow Day: A Washington DC Definition

snow day (noun) a day on which public schools or other institutions are closed due to heavy snow.

--World English Dictionary

Maybe that's the case in other areas of the country.  In the Washington D.C. region, we might need our own definition.  The weather in our area is notoriously difficult to predict.  Or so the weather forecasters tell me every time they get it wrong. 

Washington DC snow day (noun) develops a few days in advance with lots of media hype and large scale projections,  "up to a foot of snow possible in some areas..."  Clever people always name Washington DC snowstorms so we can talk about "Snowquester's" impact on our day, the economy, the power lines, etc.  The hype and anticipation is a big part of the ritual because we never know which way the wind will blow (literally) and how it will ultimately affect us.  Kids (and teachers!) share their expert, foolproof ways to bring on the snow...inside out pajamas, spoons under the pillow, ice cubes in the toilet, snow dances.  We haven't had significant snow in our area in two years so We Want a Snow Day! is a popular refrain.

In the early morning hours on the day of the approaching storm, Washington DC snow day (noun) continues.  I don't envy the people who have to make the decision to close schools and governments in our area.  Using the information they receive from the completely unreliable meteorologists, they decide our fates.  Err on the side of caution and hear the ridicules and complaints.  Take a gamble and risk the eight hour commuting gridlock calamity we got last year.  Usually they err on the side of caution.  I don't blame them.  I'd take ridiculing over a traffic jam any day of the week. 

No school! Washington DC snow day (noun) really begins after the announcement is posted.   Our snow day is a day of sleeping in late.  Drinking coffee and reading the newspaper by the fire.  Putting on the snow pants, boots, mittens, hats, coats and heading out into the...hmm.  Where's the snow? 

Washington DC snow day (noun) is a day subject to ridicule--"Snowquester" gets changed to "Slushquester" and most of our area just gets rain.  Residents recently transplanted from the North and Midwest shake their heads in disbelief.  

Yeah, the fluffy white stuff would have been nice.  But I'll take the extra day off anyway.  Washington DC snow day (noun) No snow required.

I didn't get out my camera to take pictures of the slushy driveway, sorry.  But our unpredictable weather went from snow day on Wednesday to sunny and 60 degrees on Saturday.  Washington DC sprinkler day, anyone?

Lucky

For the Kellys, March is the month of one of our favorite holidays: St. Patrick's Day.  Just turning the calendar page causes Paul to start reciting limericks in his Irish accent.  He's already planning his menu of shepherd's pie and a Guinness (or two) to celebrate.

I haven't found any four leaf clovers or chased any leprechauns over the rainbow to a pot of gold...yet.  That's OK because I am already lucky--I married my Irish good luck charm.

Paul, how'd I get so lucky?

You take care of me.  When I go for a bike ride, you put the air in my tires and attach the rack to my car.

You are always complimentary of my cooking.  Even when it looks like glob.  You tell me it's the best glob you've ever eaten.  And then you clean the kitchen after I cook.  Sometimes I leave an awful mess and you've scrubbed your fair share of pots.

When you're reading the newspaper, you don't mind when I interrupt you to comment on the article I'm reading.  Or at least, you pretend not to mind.  That makes me happy.

You go to the grocery store for me.  Even when you are tired.  Even when it is rush hour.  And you never complain about it.

I love to hear you sing and play the guitar.  I'm glad we have common interests like riding bikes, running, live music, good books and good food.

You are a wonderful writer and I cherish the poems and notes you write.  I love that you leave the kids notes on their lunchbox napkins. 

Speaking of kids, you are the best dad ever.  When I watch you teaching Katherine how to swing a racquet, I know where the expression "patience of a saint" comes from.  I see you spending time outside shooting hoops with Jack.

And did I mention you are the most handsome man ever?

Life gets crazy.  Life gets busy.  We have our shares of ups and downs. 
Through it all, I am so lucky to have you.

The Empty Pot

“Dressed in our newest clothes we’re on our way.  We’ll see the Emperor on this special day…”  The third grade plays were wonderful!  Now, I wonder how long it will take to get all the the constant refrain of all these songs out of my head.   Last week, the third grade classes performed various Chinese folktales for friends and family.  We all enjoyed the finished product, but not many people know how much effort goes into those final performances.

First we need to reserve the stage to practice.  Since we have 6 classes, this is not an easy task.  To give each class a daily practice time, some of the teachers move their math block to accommodate others.  Every day one class will miss recess and use that time to practice.  The practice area is a common area, so our budding thespians must contend with people switching classes, walking through the rehearsal on their way to lunch or specials.

Now that we have our rehearsal schedule, we begin to look at other aspects of our play.  To help learn the music, we collaborate with the three different music teachers on staff.   We coordinate lesson plans and curriculum with both art teachers to help create some props and scenery.   The speech teacher rearranges her schedule to be available to help with her caseload.  We have 5 special education students participating in the play so the Special Ed. Team gets involved as well.   Two part-time staff members help with instruments and costumes.  We ask other teachers, “What about the lights and sound?  Who knows how to rewire these microphones?”  Soon, parents will be invited to volunteer to help with programs and dress rehearsal logistics. 

It’s not easy.  We are trying to coordinate with about 25 adults and almost 180 third graders.  Why do we do it?  Why do we disrupt our regular schedule and take on the extra time commitment and stress of this production?   Short answer: we love our students.  We believe the value of working together far outweighs the challenges we encounter.  For many, this is their first play.   We feel a swell of pride to see our students work so hard to learn their lines, cues and songs.  On Friday night, the POD filled up with parents.  The lights went down.  Narrator one began:  “Ancient China is a land of stories…” 

The kids are excited.  This play is a part of their story now.   I don’t know what I would have said last week, but now that it is over, I can honestly say, it was worth it.

This Too Shall Pass

I had one of those weeks.  You know, the kind where you just want to crawl out of your life and catch the next flight to Australia? 

That's where Alexander wants to move when he's having a bad day.  Have you ever read  Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst?  It's one of my favorite books. I'm laughing because one of my good friends is trying to vacation there with her family this summer. However, her kids are convinced that a high percentage of poisonous animals live in Australia, making the country entirely too dangerous.  So, maybe they have bad days in Australia too.  Really, I would never, ever fly to Australia if I was having a bad day because that flight has got to be about a million hours and I don't think I have enough Zanax to survive.  I should just set my sights on the Bahamas.

Anyway, I was not lounging on the beach with a daquiri this week.  I was right smack in the middle of winter with highs--highs !-- in the low 20s.  And Paul left on a business trip so instead of curling up in my pj's and eating lots of macaroni and cheese, I had be on carpool duty.  Then I got my haircut and I don't like it.  My bangs are just too short.  I know, I know... Michelle Obama got bangs and its all trendy now but I don't care.  At school, there are just 6 play rehearsals left before the big third grade production and I keep repeating, "It will all come together.  It will all come together." Now I need to talk myself into believing that.  Meanwhile, I lugged a heavy bag of work home over the weekend because report cards are due.  Blech.

It's easy to get caught up in a downward spiral when you are feeling overwhelmed and underappreciated. I have to pause and remind myself, "This too shall pass."  On the bulletin board above my desk I have a yellow Post-it note that reads, "contentment is a shift in attitude, not a change in circumstance."  I have pull myself out of my puddle of self-wallowing pity to remind myself of all the wonderful things that happened last week. 

 Like celebrating Pop Pop's 70th birthday.  Katherine wanted to make the most elaborate cake recipe ever and we pulled it off. 

We got our first snow of the year and, with it, a school delay and chance to sleep in.  Paul returned safely from Chicago.   We all snuggled on the couch together Friday night watching a family movie and there was almost no bickering.

Pausing to reflect on the good things can improve your mood.  And it's cheaper than a flight to Australia.

The New Normal

You know how talking about lice makes your head itch?  (OK, maybe you don't know this. When you work in an elementary school, winter means exposure to numerous flus, coughs and, yes, lice.  I, for one, can not think of the little buggers crawling around the scalp without scratching my own head.  Now, what was my point here?  Oh, yes, budgets.)  We start talking about saving money and I get the itch to spend some.

December was busy--full of school assignments, holiday shopping and family adventures.  December was certainly not the month for me to stick to our "normal" monthly budget.  Now it is 2013.  I turned in my final portfolio a few weeks ago.  Graduate class--done.  The tree is undecorated and bare by the curb. Christmas--done.  Last week we watched a promising post-season start give way to an injured quarterback.  Redskins season--done.  All the sudden I blinked and we're halfway through January.  I can turn my attention back to my normal life...only I'm not so sure what normal is. 

One of our December adventures was a birthday trip to Baltimore.  First we stopped by the aquarium...

...where I had plenty of opportunities to experiment with my new camera!



Then after an amazing lunch at Woodberry Kitchen we explored the Maryland Science Center...

...making sure to take a nap on the bed of nails, among other things.

It was so fun to get away and have an adventure.  While I know we can't afford to travel every weekend, I also don't want to plod along through the winter counting the days until Spring Break (68, but who's counting?)  I'm thinking about our Baltimore trip as we sit down to formulate our 2013 budget. Yes, we're trying to save for college, retirement and other practical reasons.  I'm also lobbying for this year's budget to include some funds for fun.  Honestly, I think adventure shouldn't be the exception, it should be part of our normal routine.

Now, where to next?

A Case of the Christmas Giggles

Dreaming of a White Christmas

Remember mix tapes?  I used to make them all the time when I was a kid.  When I created a new masterpiece, I took a ball point pen and poked out the little plastic tab on the side of the tape to make my creation permanent. 

One Christmas when I was little, my grandparents gave our family the gift of a tape player and a tape of Christmas songs.  It was, apparently, recorded at home in some lady's basement.  We could tell.  Along with the novice production, the singing was not much better.  The lady had a warbly and at times screechy voice.  



Hoping for the perfect gift



At first my brother and I were disappointed.  The tape probably would have been cast aside except for one thing:  Bobby and I discovered the little plastic tab still intact on the side of the tape.  This was a perfectly good cassette!  We could dub over the entire thing!

We hit the play button and listened to the piano plinking and plunking as the lady sang with dramatic flourish...

"And the angels..."  she crooned.  Quickly we hit record and updated the lyrics with our own childlike melody...

"Laughed so hard they wet their pants!" 

And then we laughed so hard, we almost wet our own pants.  We spent hours with our new gift that afternoon.  Lying on our stomachs on the living room carpet, we rewrote the words to every song and inserted our new, improved version onto the tape.

I hope you had a Merry Christmas! By now the gifts are unwrapped and maybe, just maybe some of them weren't perfect.  In our house, the basketball socks we ordered for Jack were too small.  Aunt Julie's hot chocolate mix exploded in the package during shipping, covering everything in a film of cocoa.   I watched the kids open their gifts--beautiful handknit hats--and couldn't help but laugh that they smelled delicious too. 

 Merry Christmas!  I wish for all of you memories with family and friends, filled with unexpected laughter.  I think the angels would approve.