The Show Must Go On...

Yep, a beloved American tradition has finally arrived.  The first snow day of the school year!  While most children romp in pillows of snow, my Princess sobs uncontrollably.  "But Mommy, it's movie star day at school!"  Yes, my daughter is devastated because it is Red Carpet Day at her preschool, and she is stuck hanging out with her mom.  Red Carpet Day is fun.  All the little tots dress up in their fanciest attire, walk the red carpet (plastic tablecloth), wave to their adoring fans (teachers), conduct interviews with nosy reporters (teachers again) and have their pictures taken by the surging paparazzi (school directors).  But the snow has taken all that joy away from my little girl.

So at 9:30 a.m. when most children are stuffing themselves into inflatable snowsuits and moonboots, Princess is donning her black velvet dress, expertly accessorized with pink jewelry, pink sequin pocketbook and her blue Cinderella headband.  Wearing no shoes (because they would only slow her down), she struts her stuff on our makeshift runway proclaiming that she is a movie star and a princess.  The paparazzi did show....

 along with her adoring fans (aka mom and dad).  She laughs in the face of snow day traditions! Who needs sleds and snowballs when you can have photo shoots and ivory bows?

I honestly don't know where she came from.  This sports-loving, long-devoted feminist remains stunned at the girly girl way my daughter walks through her life.  But she is fabulous!  And I am so lucky she is mine.

Happy Snow Day!

Instead...

Having some bad days at work...bear with me as I muse about what I career I could have instead:

• Personal chef...for non-picky friendly families only
• Writer...probably of children's books b/c my attention span lacks stamina
• Candle shop owner...at least my office wouldn't smell like the home-ec room all the time
• Event planner...again, for nice, reasonable people only 
• Professional book club facilitator...just love talking about books
• Bookstore owner...the independent kind with charm, loyal customers, and no nearby Borders.
• Gourmet food buyer...spending my days tasting great cheese - heaven
• Consultant...maybe I'd be more effective in my career if the same people didn't piss me off everyday
• Photographer...for Sports Illustrated - I love their photography
• Teacher...oh wait - I gave up that career for this one...(sigh)

What would you do instead?

The Biter

Princess was attacked.  

The attacker's teeth missed her eye by less than a centimeter.  On her cheekbone, a magenta temporary tattoo-like imprint of each tooth.  The assailant had to be pulled off her face.  Miraculously, the skin was not broken.  No, it was not a pit bull or a doberman that pounced on my little girl.  It was a two and a half year old boy - the biter of her class.  And I have had enough.

Princess's teacher called me on Friday morning to tell me what happened.  She assured me that Princess was fine, and I have the luxury to verify that by the class webcam.  Miss P told me Princess did not provoke the attack at all.  She was simply sitting at her table coloring her picture when the biter gestured as if he was going to hug her.  He leaned in and bit her face.  My heart raced, but again Miss P said Princess was fine, but there would be a bruise.  In my mind I pictured a typical blue bruise, maybe the size of a quarter.  That is why I was completely unprepared for the reality of the redish/purple explosion on her cheekbone.  It left me speechless.  I fought back tears.  Princess, though, was her happy self so I did my best not to let my astonishment show.  I was sad, and then I was pissed.  

The Biter has attacked my daughter (and other children) before, but never like this one.  This one was bad.  Both my husband and I spoke to the director.  We think this child who has pattern of biting should be asked to leave the school.  If he doesn't, we will.  It is difficult enough sending my daughter to daycare, much less worry about the Hannibal Lecter who lingers nearby as she eats her turkey sandwich.      

And now my educator voice whispers in my ear....what kind of house must the Biter live in so that he feels the only way he can express his emotions and/or get attention is to chomp his teeth into some other kid's arm, back or face?  I do feel for the Biter.

But my mom voice yells even louder, "But he needs to stay away from my little girl."  

(Woman sheepishly reenters her blog) Anyone here?

Wow, I suck....October, huh?  I was always going to get around to posting, but I feel as though I ran out of things to say.  Of course, I didn't.  It was just an excuse not to have to post.  Now I know no one is reading this anymore as I have left my few faithful readers down.  But I promise if you venture back....well I will try to make it worth your while.  I may even add a few pictures to make the page a bit more flashy!  I did get a sparkly new laptop for Christmas (yes, I am now a Mac owner) so I am anxious to try out all its bells and whistles.  

Anyway, it is odd that today is the day I decide to post.  I have spent this last week feeling really "off," and I have not been able to put my finger on why.  Yes, princess has been extra whiny this week.  True, work has been extra stressful.  I know, money is always a concern, especially after we drop a few grand on a weekend away (had to - it was for a wedding - ok, ok, didn't have to go to the spa for two treatments before the wedding, but let's not talk about that).  But something is tugging at me, making my eye twitch, my heart tighten and my stomach lurch.  Now I watched the Oprah on intuition so I know I should listen to the tug, but I am, damnit.  I just don't know what it is saying!  Talk to me intuity - talk to me!

Nothing.  

Maybe it is just indigestion.

I Did It Myyyy Waaay...

Frankie (Sinatra that is) makes it sound so easy. Just choose to do it "my way." Yet when you try to fill someone else's shoes, those around you constantly speculate if you can do it as well as she did, wonder how much you will change their jobs and hope (well some people anyway) you'll fall flat on your face so the big bosses can see they really deserved the job. To complicate matters even further, the person you replaced didn't retire or leave the company. No, she simply got promoted and (with all good intentions on her part) checks in every few days to see how it's going. Yet, you continue to try to do things "your way" since "her way" just doesn't make any sense to you.

Welcome to my work life...

Now, let me begin by saying I love my new job. It is a great new challenge that keeps my brain hard at work at all hours (not so good for a restful night's sleep, but I am sure I'll get used to it). But my predecessor's presence lurks around me...always. She is great with people - always has a kind word and remembers everyone's husband's name, childrens' names and life stories. She writes personal thank you notes following almost every act of kindness. She treats every meeting as an opportunity to cater an event. I am just not built that way. I do not do small talk. I believe personal lives should remain personal. And I still haven't even sent my parents their anniversary card (going on 3 weeks now).

But...and this may sound pretentious however I am starting to really believe it is true...my predecessor didn't do her job as well as perhaps she should have or could have. It was a position she held for over 25 years. I am sure complacency set in at some point. There are tremendous gaps in her work, not to mention no computer files (yes, that's right folks...none. She handwrites most her memos). Glaring flaws confront me everyday, ones I know she must have seen, but instead seemingly chose not to ruffle feathers or chose not to work very hard. Because she is as nice as she is, I prefer to think the best of her.

However, here I am eight weeks into this great job trying to patch some of the gaping holes without ostracizing too many people (including my predecessor) at the same time. How do I fix some of the most pressing problems without sending the message to her employees that their much beloved former boss often dropped the ball so they are wasting their time doing some of the things she asked of them? That's tough news to break without all the home baked cookies and spinach quiche to distract them. I guess I will try to "wow" them with common sense first and try to address those areas that will help make their lives a bit easier.

If not, there's always Entenmann's chocolate chip cookies and Dunkin Donuts coffee. I guess I should go to a stationary store too (just in case of emergency).

Boy Crazy...

My sister-in-law and niece are visiting for a long weekend. My niece is 10 years old, going on 21. She wears mascara and blue eyeshadow, has a boyfriend, has a cell phone and has that "I'm on the edge of puberty" attitude. She is this fantastic girl who is in the often ungraceful process of shedding her childhood skin. All she wants to talk about is boys and who is hot and who is not. She loves the Jonas brothers (Nick is the hot one by the way). As she pages through her generation's version of Teen Beat, she floats into her fantasy world where everyone loves her and she always gets the hottest guy (that would be the aforementioned Nick Jonas). And I, trying to be the good aunt, listen intently to all her stories about what would happen if she met the Jonas brothers and why she needs to have a boyfriend even though she is only in 5th grade. But what I want to say (and do whenever an opportunity presents itself) is there is a lot more to life than boys. Yet even in this post-feminist movement world where women are equal (and probably your boss), she stares at me with exasperation and bewilderment when I ask what else she is interested in besides boys and shopping.

As she continues on, I find my eyes glancing at my own two year old Princess, and I wonder who she will be at ten years old. What world will she enter? Who will her role models be? How crazy will she get about boys? It is a little nerve wracking to contemplate.

So tonight rather than worrying about all those questions which I cannot control right now, I tiptoed into Princess's bedroom, hoping she wasn't yet asleep. Thankfully, she wasn't. I asked her if she wanted to rock in the chair with me for a little while, and she eagerly nodded her head. And so we rocked - back and forth, back and forth - while she told me stories about her day and what we will do this weekend. And I, trying to be the good mom, listened intently and snuggled her tightly. All the while, though, I was thinking that someday Princess will be ten...but tonight, thank God, she was wonderfully, fantastically two (without a hint of boy mania in sight).

You Spin Me Right 'Round

Well, I am on the working mom carousel today. As I have to do on many days, I left for work before Princess opened her eyes (it bums me out everytime). When I got to work, I dropped my stuff in my office and ran out to do two observations, back to back. Returned to my office to find 12 new e-mails (two with the high priority exclamation point) and three phone messages. Believing I only had 20 minutes until my next appointment, I quickly addressed the most pressing, and then dashed off to an elementary school. Patiently, I waited for my partner to arrive at said school only to find out we miscommunicated on our days so she thought our meeting is tomorrow. While lingering at the school, though, I thought about Princess and what she was doing now (gymnastics class, I think). That palpable "mom guilt" swirled around me as I saw other brown haired, brown eyed little girls skip through the school's hallways. Ugh...yet no time to wallow; it's back to the high school to comb through hundreds of pages of curriculum, four years' worth of department meeting agendas and school board policies as I attempt to do my part to prepare for state monitoring. Several people come and asks questions. I find out one teacher I observed is in tears because she thinks the lesson was terrible (it wasn't). I send a "don't worry, it was fine" e-mail. A few hours (and two Advil) later, it's off to my "new administrator" cohort/support group where I stare at a clock and eagerly anticipate picking up Princess.

Sprint to the car...drive too many miles to pick her up.

Big, big, delicious hugs from Princess. Breathe....

But only for a second.

Drive home. Change clothes. Make dinner. Empty dishwasher. Eat dinner. Play outside. Play inside. Feed dog. Bath. Strawberries (for Princess). Stories. Bed. Turn on the sprinkler for new sod. More kisses. Bed. "Rub my back Mommy." Bed. "Daddy's still at work baby girl." Bed again. Turn down the monitor's volume to make it easier to do the tough love approach to bedtime. Sleeping Princess.

Blog...and a glass of red wine. I think I earned it today.