It is not even 7:00 a.m. and I have been awake (not willingly) for an hour.

Zach was sleeping in my bed with my husband. He gets out of my to bed and walks to his bed, where I am sleeping to wake me up.

Why me?! I hate mornings. He had a perfectly acceptable adult sleeping right next to him to wake up. Grimace. 

But no, he pitter-patters down the hall and whines on at full throttle until I wake up and bring him downstairs.

Somedays, there is no glory in being the Mommy. On those days, coffee is the only consolation.

Wow, this is just a case of a bad teacher that this photo didn’t turn out. Who was there just to check my shirt? The collar is out of wack and the sleeve is messed up.

Of course I remember insisting on a ponytail that day to my mother’s dismay. I of course, was reminded that I was wrong when the pictures came back. Still, I was a little scruffy, but a nice kid.

I vow as a elementary teacher, to make an effort to at least fix kids shirts, if not their hair, on picture day.

Today, I stood surrounded by 2 year-olds and a floor full of scattered toys. I had two options: I could start cleaning it up myself, or I could attempt to get these kids to pick it up themselves.

Background: these kids are the room I dub the “ferral children” and have never truly been shown how to clean up. I’ve tried showing them how (”Here’s the bucket for people put the people in the bucket.”) I’ve tried repeating and encouraging (”Clean up! Everybody Clean Up!”) I’ve tried catchy tunes about cleaning up played while attempting the first two strategies.

Nothin’.

Today, I was desperate. I remembered one girl had mini M&Ms in her cubby for potty training and she was out today. I grabbed the bag and began offering one M&M per picked up toy.

At first they were slow to catch on. Soon, they saw their friends getting mini M&Ms popped in their mouths like baby birds, and by the time for lunch the room was clean, every child had picked up something, and I was down only about 20 mini M&Ms.

BRIBES! Who whould have thought? Cheap, little, tiny, non-choking-hazard, chocolate bribes! God bless you mini M&Ms!!

Lately I’ve been on a wasabi pea kick. If you haven’t had them wasabi peas are baked peas with a brush of wasabi (an uber hot Japanese spice.) You only taste the wasabi for a moment if you keep chewing through it and then it mixes with the sweet taste of the pea. It’s quick brush of pain and pleasure, which makes it quite yummy. If you have a few of them they also wake you up a bit and get your blood going.

So the other day I was eating them and Zach wanted one, because if mom has it and “I” don’t, it must be good, right? So I gave him one. He started yelling “It burns, it burns!” I told him, keep chewing. A few minutes later I hear him ask, “Can I have another?” So I gave him another.
From his car seat, again I hear “It burns me, it burns me!” then again, “More.”

I thought, “What kind of mother am I? I find this amusing, they must be bad for kids, I will probably burn in hell.” Turns out, nope, they are just plain old peas and a little bit of vinegar, wasabi powder and a few other natural things. After looking on-line, it turns out other moms have done this as well and found it equally entertaining. Of course this rules out hot saucing techniques in the future.

My sister and my niece were models on the catwalk. Here are some pictures of the cuties!

Yesterday was my last day as a Sunday school teacher for my church. I held the position for almost a year.

The position “moved” me to go back to school and become a teacher, but a lot has happened since last fall. Number one, I lost my job. Number two, I am now working at a daycare 40 plus hours a week. Number three, Zach has entered the most difficult part of his terrible twos. So, it becomes harder for me to get everything done, get my own church time in and teach a little Sunday school.

I feel like I did some good.  Some kids didn’t understand that a group “Amen” was needed at the end of our prayers before snack time. Many children had a good amount of knowledge about the bible but enjoyed games and metaphors. In the end, I’ve come away with a much better understanding of kids and why they say and act the way they do.

Becoming a confident teacher, in my opinion, really involves finding the grace and compassion for all children, more so than your ability to pound information into their little skulls. It’s a tight rope of control and compassion I hope to be walking for a long time.

Two pictures (taken by Grandma Stevens) that perfectly capture Zach at 2 1/2. Just a little bit precocious, this one.