When I Win Powerball

So PowerBall is epic right now- something like 900+ million dollars. Obviously, I had to buy a ticket! I lost, but so did everyone else in America. Sweet! Hope is still alive! Now the jackpot will be even more insane, into the billions. Got four tickets today, so clearly, everyone else can give up because I'm going to win! My favorite part of the whole process is thinking about what I would do with all of that money! So here's my "I am a billionnaire" checklist!

Things I Will Buy:
1. New snow tires for the SUV (which I will pay off!)
2. A fancy minivan for when it's not snowing
3. Lovely waterfront beach home on Cape Cod for S with a dock for our new boat.
4. House in my neighborhood for J & R.
5. Dansko clogs in every style and color.
6. A heat press.
7. Commercial grade Kitchen Aid mixer.
8. A restaurant.
9. A golf cart.

Who Gets Some Moolah:
1. Every elementary school in town will get cashola to support art, music, coding, and theater initiatives.
2. Hamilton will get some bank, obviously, to support need blind admissions.
3. The Jane Fund, Planned Parenthood, Abby's House, and Ronald McDonald House.
4. The regular players- family, of course- and dear friends- as in college funds for their kids, not "go to Vegas and party" money.
5. I'll "Pad Every Pew" at church
6. My school for sure.
7. The people at DD who make my coffee every day.

What I'll Do:
1. Go to Great Wolf Lodge every weekend from January to March.
2. See every musical on Broadway until eternity.
3. Go to Hawaii to stay at Aulani.
4. Get all my groceries delivered until the end of time.
5. Get yearly memberships to all of the great museums, gardens, and science centers, and give them to all the foster parents I can think of.

I guess that's really it- I thought about buying a beach house in Cape May, but really, who wants to deal with the upkeep? I'll just rent a fabulous one every summer, all summer! Oh, and maybe I'll buy a winery...just maybe.

Leggings...

Yes, I shall blog about leggings. The fact that I shall blog about a clothing item is nothing short of EPIC. I have horrible taste- anything that I look good in my mother bought me, period. There is no need to ask where I got it- my response shall be, um, Sylvia. Over the summer she got me some awesome Soybu pieces- including yoga pants, which I struggled with. They're tight, and clingy, but oh so soft. I love them, and I wear them a lot in my house! I have zero "brave" when it comes to clothes. You want me to raise money? Volunteer? Build a house? Sure, I've got that DOWN. But wear clothes anywhere outside of my comfort zone? Hell no. Panic attack city. At the end of the summer I found two maxi skirts and a dress on super clearance at Target, and they are my wardrobe. No joke, I realized that for every time I went to church, I wore that one dress. It's cute, don't get me wrong, but I do need to break my vicious cycle of Monday- black maxi skirt with solid top; Tuesday, dress; Wednesday grey maxi skirt with solid top; Thursday, old black dress with pills; Friday, black maxi skirt with solid top. Exciting, isn't it??? I did start to add some scarves, mainly to hide the little stains on the chest shelf on the solid tops!

Then I did this way cool event yesterday, and there was Michaela with her enchanting LulaRoe. I have several friends that sell LulaRoe, and I look at their pictures and love them, but this was my first time meeting the line in person. And did I meet it! I loved all the patterns, colors, styles- but was like "ohhh how cute for someone in shape and tiny". Then Michaela said the magic words- not, "oh, this might fight you", but "OH! Check these patterns out! They will look great on you!". I was so doubtful- until she pulled out her phone and showed me multiple pics of gorgeous women of all sizes rocking their LulaRoe. SOLD. I bought two pairs of leggings, and called it a day. Got home and tried them on- yup, they fit! But still, they are leggings. As in tight. Super duper soft, not at all transparent, real leggings. That would replace pants. Back the fact that they are leggings.

Monday morning arrives- the insanity starts late, of course, but I find a shirt that matches perfectly, and a black skirt to wear over them. Get the kids the school, get breakfast, you know, regular morning stuff. Arrive at work. Realize how uncomfortable I am with the skirt on too. AND TOOK IT OFF. As in, I took off my black skirt and went with my long tunic like top and JUST. FREAKING. LEGGINGS.

I wore them all day. I was comfortable, for perhaps the first time since the fall of 1995, in leggings (I remember the outfit- black leggings and a burgundy long sweater from the Gap. In Mr. Danze's AP European Histroy Class). For once, I didn't give a rat's tush what others thought I looked like. I felt AWESOME. I felt STRONG. I am not what most of society deems as beautiful, or fit. I look at this picture and see the bulges- and know that it's muscle in my thigh (there are plenty of jiggly bits elsewhere, don't worry!). I look in the mirror and see the bags under my eyes, the encroaching wrinkles, the limp hair. But today I realized something...

I am a strong ass woman raising two boys alone. I am teaching them to think of others, be kind, and appreciate what they have.  I teach students that don't fit into the mainstream school system that they are valued. I empower others.  I can support friends who are struggling. I can take care of my family. I am surrounded by an incredible support system. I am a feminist. I am a pacifist. I am a Unitarian Universalist. I can make mistakes and learn from them. Sometimes, I can even build those really hard Lego sets (with lots of cursing).  I can be absolutely ANYTHING I want to be (except maybe a marathoner, but hey, jury's out on that- it looks pretty torturous). 

And I can do it in leggings. 

ENOUGH.

ENOUGH. When do we, as a country, finally draw the line and decide to take a stand in the face of violence? When do our legislators finally decide that they can actually show some fortitude and gumption and DO SOMETHING? When are fellow Americans going to start contacting these Senators?  Even the New York Daily News gets it. A Missouri state rep nails it. I am sure that I am one of a million bloggers today thinking about the same thing. Guns don't kill people, people kill people. Well, duh. So let's not give more people guns. It seems so logical to me. The fact that when my newsfeed bleeped "Mass Shooting in San Bernardino" I didn't even flinch, hit it home. I am at the point where I expect this, because nothing has been done to prevent it. These headlines have become commonplace. They don't surprise me- they scare me. I read an article today on how to survive a workplace or school shooting, and I found myself taking note. I. TOOK. NOTES. I thought about how I could teach my students to run in a zig zag pattern without scaring them. I tried to figure out what my children, who are six and four, could understand and replicate. The fact that I spent a good ten minutes debating the most therapeutic way to say "if there are victims, lay in their blood and don't move" rocked me to my core. I refuse to have this conversation- as I am very much hopeful that change is around the corner. That love will conquer hate. That common sense will prevail. I won't lie though, I'm scared for what could come next. There WILL be a time when our country, whether Republican or Democrat, will realize that we have to stand together against violence, especially in regards to guns. Yes, a mentally ill person can wreak havoc in many ways- but last time I checked, it's a lot easier to kill with a semi-automatic than a knife. I could like the incidents that lead me to this evening, and these thoughts- but as a child of the 90's, I can just say Columbine. I did some searching and found this article. I don't know what is more frightening- that there have been so many deaths, or that I didn't even know about half of them.

I really thought that there would be a change after Sandy Hook. I was so very optimistic. For naught.

In all things, give thanks...

It's Thanksgiving Eve- I would love to be all snuggled down with my boys, but they are with their dad. It sucks.  When choosing to get divorced I knew that this would happen, and that it would be sucky. Still better than the option!

So, breathing through the sucky, and enjoying the decorating of the adult tree, as we did the kid tree all together earlier this afternoon. My kids have finally gotten the concept and loved finding all of their yearly ornaments. It was awesome! So now I am cooking and baking, and doing all of the traditional Thanksgiving Eve things. The flip side of this is that the turkey I just basted isn't for me. The cookies in my car? Not for me either. Don't get me wrong, I have some yummy stuff that I will partake in as well, but they're the "side dish" to my day of giving thanks.

I am grateful that I can afford to buy a few packs of white socks for those who live on the streets.
I am grateful that I can afford to make a meal for those who cannot.
I am grateful that I live in a country whose icon of liberty is engraved with these lines:

"Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

I am grateful that I have the freedom to defend these lines against those who disagree (Ummmm, hello Governor?)

I am grateful that my life is full of people who feel the same.

I am grateful that my town has a whole parish of people who live their lives with similar ideals (I mean, really- check out the explanation of our "icon" of the flaming chalice).
I am grateful that I will be able to welcome my boys home Friday into a home that is warm, with a fully stocked fridge and pantry. 
I am grateful that we will make memories. 

Really, though, I am grateful to BE. I will always be indebted to my parents for being a living model of how to live life gracefully and with gratitude. When I was talking to my mom tonight and wailing about my boys' "gimme gimme" attitude she reminded me that I was the same way at their age- and that I grew to recognize the good that we all have in us- race, gender, class be damned. We are all humans, we all need help at some time or another- and that ties us all together. This holiday isn't about heading into a store to get awesome prices on something that we really don't need- it's about recognizing the good is us all, and doing what we can each do to better the world. That might just be by thanking whomever makes our coffee on the way to a big family dinner, or it could be passing out some warm socks to the panhandlers that approach our car as we dash to the store that is open to get extra cranberry sauce. 

I'm not saying that every person, everywhere, should eschew the creature comforts and family traditions- I'm just saying that we should be grateful that we have those comforts and traditions!

Remember that we all have a gift to give, and never doubt that one person can change the world, even if it's just the world of one person. Do good. Be kind. In the words of a pretty awesome Reverend, blessed be.

Looking back...

Today is November 9th. Four years ago, it was the last night, in my life, that I would be pregnant. At the time, I was mightily irritated because I was doing that 24 hour pee in a bucket test, to ensure that I wasn't developing pre-eclampsia- which, after delivery, when the tests were run, I wasn't. It was the last night we were three- daddy, mommy, and Mr. M. 

Here we are, four years later, and we're still three- Mommy, Mr. M, and J-Birdie. 

That fact should make me sad, but it makes me ridiculously happy. My boys are the center of my life- my heart waltzing around outside of my body. J has been many things- Shrimp, J-Dog, and J-Birdie... but he will always be my baby. J will grow, and change, and one day be a man- my man-baby. Heaven help any partner that he chooses...I may not be so kind!

The baby that made me strong, and willing to change my life. The baby that made me even stronger through his numerous health issues- I know more about kidneys, ear tags, hip dysplasia, air ways, and the deaf community than I ever though possible. When I learned he had 99% hearing loss, I was ready to communicate forever through sign. I was ready to do anything to ensure his health and happiness...thankfully, through a lot of changes in the home, and several surgeries, he's a fully hearing kiddo (97% according to his last screens- I'll take it). 

Tonight, I am grateful. I have been blessed with a child that is my mini-me- which at times, to be honest, really sucks. Stubborn as all get out, but then again, it's karma. A sweet, kind, boy- when given his birthday presents tonight responded with "Thank you mama, for making my birthday special". 

As my heart continues to live outside of my body in M and J, I am just so fulfilled. I love you, my babies, and I always will. 

Views on drama, cars and kindergarten...

You know when you have a lot going on in your life, and you just need all the other details to fall into place? Yes? So you know my last two weeks. There were so many major transitions (M to K, J to a new school, Nanny 911 the splendiferous Catherine leaving for college, Mommy back to work, and new to being a middle school teacher ALL. DAY. LONG). Everything has it's own weight in emotions, logistics, and whatnot.

First, the positive. Miles flipping LOVES kindergarten. Frankly. I love his teacher, and his school, and his nurse, and his principal, and the lunch room, and I want to go to kindergarten again. He loves going to Miss Allison's in the morning, but is less than impressed that mama gets out of work early enough to get him from the bus- he would MUCH rather hang at Miss Allison's with his buddies. J is tolerating his new school- he loves a lot of it, but is rather cranky about this nap time thing- my kids don't sleep- they just don't- so nap is kind of ugly. J wants to chat with his teachers and is less than impressed about the "Shhh!" that comes when he's trying to have full blown conversations with the few awake members of his class. Well, suck it up, buttercup. Nap time happens. I manage to make it to work on time so far, and work's going as smoothly as I could hope.

Then there's the shit show portion of life. Nothing insane, but the minor annoyances that you really wish you didn't have to deal with- like your car dying in the the 90 degree heat. And the battery being housed in the freaking wheel well, which necessitates a tow and a wait. ON YOUR KID'S FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL (J) when all you want to do is see how it went and how much he hates you for sending him. So you send someone to pick him up, and you move on. You get a new battery and exhale, thinking alright! Glad this happened now and not the first week of school!

And then, it happens again. The first week of school. The first day of soccer practice. When it's 90+ and you sweat merely exhaling. Got M off the bus, navigate the "I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE MISS ALLISON'S!". Climb in to go pick up child number two- and have dreams of stopping and getting a nice bottle of wine. Crank the keys. NOTHING. Silently lose your mind, and climb back out of the sweat chamber. Call AAA. Let M go play with his buddies. Try to find a garage to deal with this issue- realize no garage can do anything until after Labor Day weekend. Then, a eureka moment. I paid a lot to have fancy pants extended warranties on this SUV. Call dealership. And like the parting of the heavens, life is easier. "Bring it in!" they said. "We'll have the rental here" they said, "at no cost to you!"

You send an amazing friend to get kid number two, to drop at an equally amazing neighbor's- you get to dealership, you get a rental. You uninstall two car seats and are appalled at the filth below- like really, really embarrassed. As in I am hoping detailing comes with service at the dealership. Detailing with bleach and commercial grade vacuums. Hop in your little tin can, albeit a red tin can that's brand new, and start to relax- for about thirty seconds, until the child in the back seat realizes that the doors aren't on "child lock" and opens his door WIDE open (thankfully in the parking lot at about one mile per hour). Commence heart palpitations. Remedy situation by activating child lock. FINALLY drive home. You feel like ok, I got this. The fancy mama car will get fixed, we have a safe vehicle to get to school tomorrow. I have dealt with extremely kind people, and have the support of astronomically amazing parents and friends. There are way bigger problems in the world!!! Pull into the driveway and you hear this little voice from the backseat... "but what about soccer?"

Well damn. Tomorrow is a new day...

Transitions, also known as no more packing lunches!

It's been a bucket of transitions in my household over the past week. Y'all know how much I like change, so I have been PERFECTLY DELIGHTFUL. So, really, if I have had any contact with you in the real world over the past week, I am so, so, sorry. I'm not really that much of a jerk! J started at a new school, much to the chagrin of his mama- CK is an amazing school, with such loving teachers, and provided an amazing education to my nuggets. However, it's completely out of my way in the morning- and for me, needing to be at work by 7:15, that means a lot. So he started at a new center about a mile from our house. His transition has been going well, and his mama LOVES that they provide hot, scratch made breakfasts and lunches! WAHOOO! One less lunchbox to pack!

Our beloved nanny, Miss Catherine, went back to school, and all of a sudden tubs are totally on mama- this doesn't mean much to most parents, but my kids HATE THE TUB. It's a screaming trip on the misery train, complete with breakdowns, tears, and sometimes some unkind words (on the mama end)! Aside from the logistics, we miss her desperately, and our days feel kind of weird.

And then there's Mr. M. He's almost 6. He missed the cutoff. Which of course means kindergarten is calling his name. GULP. My nugget CAN'T be that old! He has been excited but I have been a mess- I am a teacher, and my reporting time is WAY earlier than his get on the bus time. BAH! How will this WORK? Nevermind the days that I work and he has no school! Enough to make a mama blanche. Thank goodness for Miss Allison- she's putting M on the bus every day, and is pretty much serving as my "oh sh&t" go to! I think he likes her almost as much as his mama, and I'm REALLY thankful for that! It doesn't hurt that I worked with her mama over ten years ago, and they're just good people- the real deal. So a big exhale.

Mr. M's school had a lot of events in the spring (most of which Miss Catherine took him to), and we were lucky enough to have his class assignment in May. All summer, he's been thinking about Mrs. Rubin. Would she like waffles? Does she sing funny songs? Will she play games? Has she ever been to the beach? Since I knew nothing, I just played the "I don't know card". Well, today was the "you're a kindergartner for one hour" orientation, and I have to say, I may love her as much as Mr. M!  She's peppy, and fun, and seems to be a perfect fit for my guy. I was a bit teary (read: about to bawl like a baby, but the fabulous nurse gave me a big hug and reassured me. I LOVE HER). The kiddos got to ride the bus with the principal, and meet their new friends (be assured, M had his listening ears on- I checked!) Parents got to sit in a rather stuffy room (it was humid as heck today- not the fault of anyone) and pretend to not be nervous. I got to meet some awesome parents, and get all crazy over creating a contact list- right up my alley. We also met the PTO coordinators, and got some Zeh school swag- T-shirts, stickers, and a really cool book called "Hello, Stripes!" which is about a day at Zeh where Stripes, the zebra mascot, got to join in the fun.

Let me tell you, when it's bedtime the night before day one, that book was a lifesaver. Miles loved the story of Stripes' day at Zeh, and as his mama, I loved the messages that were infused. It appears that it was written by the Zeh PTO, and illustrated by Brad Vinson and Danny Moore. Not trying to plagiarize, but excited to share some of their words.

A zebra without stripes
Looks something like a horse.
Zebras really need their stripes,
To set them on their course.

The stripes are not a label,
Just a piece of who we are
The stripes we earn in life
Will help us to get far.

To get these special stripes,
We have to do our best.
And when it comes to learning,
We should put ourselves to the test.

We have to use our talents,
And improve those that aren't so good
But when it comes to getting stripes,
We have to think we could.

Our stripes could be a work of art,
Or helping hands we earn
So let's all get together
At Zeh we will learn!

WOW. Nothing about winning, or common core, or standardized testing. Doing our best, using our talents, having helping hand. YES, please. THESE MATTER! This was so reassuring in and of itself. Then a few pages in, this winner "Each child is as unique as the stripes on a zebra."

HECK YES. I am so thrilled that Mr. M will be a Zebra, and his brother can follow. Proud of my nugget, and even MORE proud to be in a school system that just gets kids!

Icing on the cake? M and I have reviewed the lunch menu, and HE WILL EAT IT ALL. Goodbye packing lunch stress! You got that right, this MAMA HAS BEEN SET FREE!!!!!

On a serious note, to all of those kiddos and mamas taking a new step- enjoy every moment, and relish in the excitement! And cry when you need to...