I found this little song and it’s like a prayer in a song. I guess the author wrote it while going through cancer. Although I cannot realte to that kind of day to day stress, I feel this song is light enough for the rest of us. It’s called “Be OK” by Igrid Michellson.

01_-_be_ok.mp3

Ooh, so exciting. I found this photo just in time for Halloween.

My paternal grandmother was the keeper of a bunch of very old photographs. A few of which, I know who they are, but the majority are a mystery. Who are these people? Who were these people who could afford tin type photograph or tinted tin?

Anyway, I’ve attempted to find more information but am at a stand-still. The black sheep of the family often moved away and their history wasn’t as well documented. Among the photos I found this great photo. I swore I would make a print and put it out for Halloween.

Creepy…

….or children who are scared of the combustion flash of the old time camera. I love the baby’s face. You’re imagination could go wild with this photo. Maybe this could be a fiction story starter for kids in my future elementary classes. Old pictures have so many story potentials.

So let your imagination wander when you see this photo. Unfortuantly, they didn’t have digital options and couldn’t delete. Poor Mom, probably had to deal with poor photo of her cute kids for years.

By the way if you know who anyone of these people are contact me!!!

I finally have a brain!
A brain to observe for 16 weeks, that is. My friend’s guru-teacher-mother has blessed me with being my mentor teacher while I student teach.

To celebrate I brought Wizard of Oz to my friend’s house for Zach and her daughter to view for the first time in uber-crisp HD. We could even detect the string that moved the lion’s tale. Did you know that Dorthy had freckles? In the end, Zach had a good impression of the witch to work with and my friend’s daughter had a new bond with Toto.

Zach keeps referring to the movie as the “Wizard of Bob.”

“No, it’s ‘Oz.” I corrected.

“Ob,” he replied.

My friend’s little girl told me a not-thought of method for killing the wicked witch, “You could spit on her.”

So true.

My friend and I had a good laugh at the line “Only bad witches are ugly.”

“If only real life was as simple,” she joked.

If only.

Yesterday it was raining so the Kindergarteners and I were engaging in some free drawing with stencils and a few quick Halloween drawing lessons given by me.

Here is how you draw a bat, a pumpkin, an alien, etc. They responded well.

One little boy came to me to show me his turtle. “Look at my turtle Ms. Kari,” he said. Great, great, I told him.

He drew two long lines coming from the turtle’s mouth. “Ms. Kari. What is this?” he said pointing to the animal. “It’s like a turtle with two really big, long sharp teeth?”

Ah, um, a turtle with long fangs? I’m drawing a blank here. “I don’t know.”

Ten minutes or so pass.

“A walrus?” I ask him. “Did you mean a walrus?”

“Oh, yeah, a walrus!” he replied.

New title: preschool art interpreter.

Always respond to every impulse to pray. The impulse to pray may come when
you are reading or when you are battling with a text. I would make an
absolute law of this - always obey such an impulse. –Martyn Lloyd-Jones

So far I am enjoying age three.

Unfortunately, no one told me that the temper tantrums are replaced by never-ending energy.

Honestly, if we could harness this kid to giant hamster wheel we would pay no electric bills. It is also a mostly, clean burning, constantly renewable source of energy. No naps are needed. Well, for him anyway. I need about 12 hours of sleep per night.

Why did no one tell me about the thrashing, throwing, tireless, teeming threes? Did I miss the memo? This kid can break more rules in five minutes than anyone I’ve ever met. He’ll also manage to do new things that require new rules while you are discovering the first set of broken rules.

For example, today, he put loose change down the slats of the deck? That’s perfectly good change that could be used in U.S. vending machines, gone forever. Why? Does the deck look like a piggy bank? Ever?

Also, does the vent system in our house resemble a toy box? I’m going to err on the side of caution and say, “No.” Still, thousands upon thousands of tiny toys have made their way into the duct work of our HVAC system. Thankfully, all have been recovered.

And to think, before I had children I worried that too much dog hair would destroy our heater.

When I was back home in Minnesota my mom told me that she enjoys laundry. More so than vacuuming.

Even though I have a state of the art, jam-it-with-everything you can, front-loading washer, I still do not appriciate the chore of laundry. Personally, no washer or dryer will be a perfect machine until it presses, folds and puts away your laundry, a la The Jetsons.

Today, because of my procrastination, I ended up washing about 400 pairs of little boy underwear. I realize I need to reteach the “double wipe” concept again, if you catch my drift.

Now vacuuming, that is a great chore. Instant gratification, quick and mostly painless. It’s also a quick way to remove Happy Meal toys from one’s home. I once knew a friends Mom that was so into the vacuuming that each vacuum track had to be going the same direction and this plushly carpeted area needed to addressed everyday. Not so at my house, but I favor the chore.

If our laundry was done by say, a maid, on a regular basis, we as a family would realize just how much clothing we have. Since I only do it about once every other week, the thousands of little boy undies are a good back up.

Somewhere Martha Stewart just shivered in fear, and she’ll never know why.

The other day while getting ready for work, my three year-old toddled up to me and said, ever so sweetly, “Mommy, you look pretty.” He toddled back to his dad and continued to get ready for school.

A few minutes later when we were downstairs getting breakfast and lunches ready he asked, eyes batting, “Can I have a piece of candy corn for saying you looked pretty?”

Hrumph.

“No.” I have a slight feeling I may no longer be the recipient of random compliments again.