Life with Cassie

 Follow this link to see a cartoon about Cassie!

http://Pixton.com/ic:4m3xylv2

Spring Cleaning

The Best Nest

Cassie on the swingset

Lacey on the swingset

A Twilight Walk in the Woods

It's once again that time of year when the world is experiencing a rebirth and I instinctively want my house to be part of that wondrous process. I get up around 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday, convinced that this will be the day  I whisk from the basement,through the main floor and upstairs, sorting, donating, vacuuming, scrubbing, dusting and otherwise beautifying. At the end of the day, my home will look like something from a magazine and we'll be relaxing together reading bedtime stories while my newly laundered curtains are flapping gently in the soft breeze of a a sparkling clean, open window. If this were a sitcom, you'd be hearing the canned laughter right about now.

So, yesterday was one of those days. I trudged down to the basement and began sorting through scraps of fabric, old patterns, craft magazines, seasonal decorations and outgrown clothing. Then, as the house gradually came to life, I was greeted by Cassie pointing out that the linens in the "donate pile" really weren't that old, and there was the stuffed animal that she'd been searching for and why was I getting rid of those clothes, even though they're a size 4 and too small for both girls? Daily needs of breakfast, Taekwondo class, grocery shopping and lunch consumed the next few hours. After lunch, I went downstairs to try again.The girls wanted to help.  I suggested that tidying their bedrooms would really make me happy.  Cassie stomped off mumbling that maybe she'd summon "Lady Alice," the matriarch of her dollhouse family, to help.  Lacey followed on her heels.  Later, I went to check on their progress.  Lacey had managed to stuff her clean underwear under the bed.  Maybe there was some linguistic interference here - "under" wear goes "under" the bed?  Cassie had managed to push a few piles across the floor.  Well, they were trying.  I headed back downstairs.

In a flash, it was time to begin dinner.  I realized that I hadn't yet done a single load of laundry.  And, I was still working on the basement.  After dinner, I went to inspect Cassie's room.  I questioned why there were still clothes strewn across the floor.  She explained that she was trying to decide what to pack for our upcoming trip.  What about the books on the floor?  Well, apparently she was trying to decide what books to pack.  And, why are those dolls in the middle of the floor.  It seems that they were playing and just fell asleep there!  

I tried the, "I love you very much but I can't do everything" speech.  Cassie replied that she'd finish cleaning tomorrow.  I next explained that I'd been waiting for the past couple weekends for her to get the bedroom cleaned and I was getting a little tired of waiting.  Ohhh.  She promised she'd like for sure get it done tomorrow!  I reminded her that she had made the same promise last weekend.  I then tried another clever tactic, otherwise known as bribery.  I said that if she got the room clean, we would go to see the movie about the Easter Rabbit that the girls have been anxiously awaiting.  Cassie thought that it would be better to wait and buy the DVD.  Then, we could watch it over and over again!  I was still one step ahead of her.  I sat her down and reminded her that in a few years,she'd be a teenager.  At that time, she'd probably want to be spending a lot of time with her friends, away from the house.  Wouldn't she want me to trust her then?  A surprised gulp and a nod.  Well, if the promise to clean gets broken again, it will be pretty hard for Mommy to trust you.  That got her going!

This afternoon, as I finally finished cleaning the basement, I realized that I still had the laundry to finish, kitchen to tidy, lunches to pack, and dinner to make.  I guess those gently flapping curtains will just have to wait.

Proportionality

As children, we're taught to listen to our consciences when making decisions.  We ask ourselves what the right thing to do is.  When we grow up, we realize that life's a little more complicated than that.  Everything becomes a question of proportionality.  Is the good accomplished by my actions adequate for the amount of effort that I spend?  Do the benefits my kids receive from being in a two-income household overshadow the fact that a nanny puts them on a bus in the morning?  Or, is the fatigue that I feel from getting up at 4:30 a.m. every day outweighed by the fact that going to work early enables me to be home in time to meet the school bus?

I've been running the test of proportionality a lot lately.  I have to listen to the girls prattle about whose mothers came to school at lunchtime.  I missed ballet yesterday to meet with the accountant.  There were dirty dishes on the counter when I got up this morning.  At school we are nearing the end of the 3rd quarter.  Student attendance has been abysmal.   I'm wondering if we'll ever be able to sort out the difference between nouns and verbs. I have been counting down the days until Spring Break.

Then, today, everything magically moved into balance.  I have been tutoring a student two mornings a week during my planning period.  I was slightly annoyed that she was 10 minutes late for our appointment this morning.  When she arrived, she apologized and offered this explanation..  She reminded me that she's been looking for a job for weeks.  She said that as she was entering the building, her phone rang with a job offer.  Somebody wanted her to clean houses during the day.  Although she desperately needs work, she turned down the job.  I asked why.  "Because," she said, "You are helping me and giving me an opportunity that I may never have again in my life.  I don't want to lose this opportunity.  I'll keep looking for another job."   Well.  There was no really appropriate response to that.

Later, I was approached by a student who consistently seems to demand a disproportionate amount of my time.  He handed me a crumpled piece of paper covered with barely legible writing.  He then explained that during his ongoing job search he had met someone who had information about a job cleaning metro stations.  The person had offered to help him call for more information.  But, not wanting to be late for class, my student had explained that he would take the information to school and ask his "best teacher" for help.  Wow.  No really appropriate response for that either except, "Sure.  I'll be happy to make the call."

Talk about balance.  The scales were really starting to tip and I was beginning to wonder if I'm putting in enough effort. 

The balance continued at home too.  While I supervised snacks and homework, Les folded the laundry.  Cassie set the table and Lacey cleared it.  During dinner, Lacey discovered that a napkin placed in her lap really does serve to catch dropped food.  By 8 p.m., both girls had showered and laid out their clothes for tomorrow.  All this goodness outweighed the fact that the mole the cat brought into the house is still running around loose.  If we don't catch it, I may be sleeping with Cassie in her top bunk tonight.  And, that might prompt an entirely different question about balance!

Teacher Work Day

Many years ago, my Mom gave me some wise advice.  I was  around 12 years old and was struggling with a math story problem.  When my Mother tried to help me, I yelled that the problem didn't make sense.  She calmly explained that it must have made sense to the author and that just because I didn't understand it, didn't mean that it didn't make sense.  Obviously, the error rested with me!  My Mother then explained that it would be more appropriate for me to say that I didn't understand.  Of course, she was right.  I've never forgotten the sage advice.  I've shared it with Cassie and with many of my students. 

Teacher work days are one of those things that I simply don't understand.  Way back when, someone needed to come up with a title for the days when teachers work without students present.  Thus, the name "teacher workday" became institutionalized.  Of course, we teachers work hard every day, and night and weekend.  The implication that we have designated days to work is a bit insulting!  I'm working on a more appropriate name, such as, "Teacher Rest Day."  (Yeah, so what would you call a day with no students?  "Teacher Celebration Day" might not be too popular with parents.)

At any rate, today was a Teacher Celebration Day for Cassie and Lacey.  Because I'm in another county, I had to work.  Les was all too happy to stay home with the girls.  Last night, he informed the girls that everyone would sleep in, and he was true to his word.  I was happy that he was home.  I was free to leave very early and, therefore, would be able to leave work early.   I've finally started to feel healthy again.  Seriously.  After having multiple biopsies and other less pleasant procedures performed, the doctors have found no cause for my severe anemia.  This is actually good news.  And, I'm feeling so much better that I decided to make my first trip to the swimming pool in over six months.

All day long I thought about how great it would feel to be back in the pool.  I am by no means a great swimmer, just a happy recreational one.  I love the peace and quiet that surround the pool - just me, quietly stroking through the water.  And, maybe I'd be able to squeeze in a few relaxing moments in the jacuzzi.. . .

When I arrived at the pool, I had to wait in line behind half a dozen juveniles.  Shouldn't you kids be in school?  Then, as I made my way toward the stairs, I was engulfed by a stream of elementary kids headed to the library.  The locker room was full of moms, little boys and not so little boys.  Come on - there's got to be an age limit.  The pools were full of screeching, splashing kids. Ah, geez!  Teacher workday!  How could I have been such an imbecile?

 

Okay,  let's remember that the glass is half full.  This unexpected crowd was not going to erode my peaceful swim!  The lifeguard chased the kids out of lap lane, so that I could use it.  And, the ancient geezers who usually pepper me with comments like, "If I felt as good as you looked, I'd be in great shape," were distracted by the noise from the kids.  I had a great swim.  The "runner's high" even kicked in.  I exited the pool feeling so great that I didn't care that I'd forgotten my conditioner, comb and blow dryer. 

As I turned into our pipestem, the girls came racing toward my car, side by side.  I stopped so that I could watch and enjoy them.  They were grubby and laughing and panting as they ran and pushed at each other in their efforts to reach me first.  What kind of love must inspire a kid to just run like that, full force, without inhibitions, toward a waiting parent?  I must be doing something right.  That glorious image of the girls is now etched on my brain.  Even the 15 inch, black crayon "X" that Lacey left for me on the kitchen floor couldn't mar the beauty of this teacher workday.

Look!  No jackets!