Little Miss Clean

We spent way too much money this morning at Walmart on cleaning supplies and toiletries. Always a depressing kind of shopping trip - lots of money spent and the end result of the trip is more chores at home.
On top of bathroom cleaner and shampoo, I purchased a Pledge duster. The goal for today was to clean the living room (it's a lot better now than it was, but it still needs work). I figured once we'd gotten rid of the mess, I'd do the floors and I'd introduce Alexandra to the chore that was my constant while I was growing up: dusting. We don't have nearly as many shelves and knick knacks to dust as my parents had (most of our shelves are wire crates), but I figured it would be good for her to have a new constant chore.

She has been chomping at the bit to open the duster. Alexandra didn't really want to help get rid of the clutter, but oh did she want to start dusting. Finally I acquiesced to her demands and allowed her to open the package and dust.
She dusted for two hours before I finally took the thing away from her and locked it in a closet. There is only so much I can take of pointless dusting (that is, dusting the same shelf 10 times).

Alexandra likes to dust. Our furniture is a little less dusty now. I'm in awe of the amount of entertainment that she received from cleaning furniture. Oh, and I've now swayed her attention to sweeping the room.

She's asked a few times when she gets to clean the toilet. That also freaks me out, but I'm putting it off a bit longer.

As I reluctantly get ready to clean out the guinea pig cage, I'm in awe of the child. Were chores so much fun when I was a kid?

Thank Heaven for Little Girls

I have Maurice Chevalier singing in my head at the moment.

My own daughter brings so much joy, so much angst, so much life into my world. I was just perusing photos of friends' little girls and realized how wonderful they all are.

Little girls are temperamental.
Little girls are sweet.
Little girls are made of rocks and rubber.
Little girls are the most fragile beings in the world.
Little girls are smarter than we give them credit.
Little girls make everything around them a little brighter.

Little girls are the world - and my little girl will get a big hug when she gets home from school today!

Translation Gap?

I woke Alexandra this morning with more than a few gentle nudges and belly tickles. I told her that she couldn't be late for the bus because I had to go work on my thesis today - I'm determined that it will be done today while she's at school.

"Then I'm not going to school," she responded.

"I thought you hated me working on this thesis - if I'm done I won't be so preoccupied with it."

"But I want you to get a better job, Mom. You can't finish you thesis!"

The higher the degree in English, the lower the salary for any job prospects. It's a fear I've been developing - but it was completely brought home to me when my seven year old expressed the same sentiment.

Today I will finish my thesis draft. Tomorrow I will apply at Walmart.

Just you and me, kid!

Breaking news that makes me sad to my daughter is never easy. Her face looking so heartbroken is usually enough for me to do anything to make her happy again.

Unfortunately, today, I realized that I can't do that. For nearly two years, I've been trying to conform my needs to the demands of another - making myself repeatedly miserable in order to appease that other.

Even after crying sessions and lots of hugs from close friends today, what made everything pretty crystal was having to explain it to Alex.

"We broke up."

"In real life?"
(now I'm not sure what she meant by that... but I answered the question anyway)

"Yes."

Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Why?"

And here was when it all made sense to me.

"We just have different priorities in life. You can still be friends with him and send him notes on the computer - I'm not going to keep you from doing all that. I just can no longer be in a relationship with him."


Granted, I'm still sad and have constant tears in my eyes. But I also know that I made the right decision. I wish it hadn't been made in anger, but it was and I can't take that back. I know what's important in life and what will keep me strong.
I'm watching Alexandra work on her homework and about to plunge into my thesis. Our work is important, yes. However, the love I have for my daughter, the love she has for me, that's what life is all about.

Thanks, Dad!

I was talking with a friend this evening about her fear of teaching American culture to international students through football. She worried that the students would be resistant - and that her lack of knowledge on the subject would make the class... interesting.

I suggested that she focus on Joe Montana's tight butt for the girls - that's what sparked my interest in football many years ago.

I then realized that my dad rocks.

Okay - he's not Joe Montana.

But he did expose me to a fair amount of sports as I grew up. I can follow and consider myself knowledgeable about baseball, football, basketball, hockey, soccer, golf, tennis...
There are, of course, sports that I was never really exposed to - I am clueless when it comes to cricket, for example - but on the whole, I'm not an idiot when ESPN comes on. I can watch a game and not need someone to explain to me what's going on (well, okay - and jai-alai - what's going on with that??).

I went golfing with three other women on Saturday - a first grade mom foursome in the St. Andrew's Golf Scramble fundraiser - and was the only one to understand the difference between the fairway and the green. I do understand football and can enjoy watching a game (beyond the quarterbacks' behinds!).
I will again bring up the fact that I won Keegan's NCAA tourney pool. (ROCK CHALK!)

So when I got off the phone with my friend, I called my dad and thanked him for imparting this knowledge to me. I can hang with the guys and talk sports and not confuse a touchdown with a homerun (apparently, some women do this?).

Then I realized that my own daughter doesn't know the difference between a basketball and a football - let alone the games!
I'm sad, I guess that I'm not teaching her to be as well rounded as my own parents did - but then, I'm only the mom. I may enjoy sporting events now and then, but I'm not an avid sports nut.
At least she's learning to be a really good shoe shopper!

Did I just join the Home School Association?

I should be working on my thesis. I'm supposed to be finishing up my Master's degree in Literature this summer - and that thesis needs to be finished.

Instead, I spent yesterday and today volunteering all day at the book fair at Alexandra's school. I also spent these two days learning things about myself and the reality in which I exist.

I discovered that all schools have good kids and bad kids. There will be kids who spend their money buying books for their younger siblings - and there will be kids who swipe toys from the tables. All schools have them.
I discovered that I can say no to frivolous requests for scented highlighters by my first grader and her friends. I may have succumbed to the poster for her bedroom, but I also managed to say no to the toys and the expensive, not-really-a-book, book. Even after the big blue puppy-dog eyes.
I discovered that going out to lunch with mom isn't quite as tempting as the cafeteria's texas toast. Instead, mom can go find a soda and cheeseburger at McDonald's.

Finally, I discovered that I may have joined the Home School Association.

Between all of Alexandra's activities and my studies and work, I realized last semester that I had too much on my plate. I cut back a lot of my own activities - stopped teaching Sunday School, volunteered for only one project at her school last semester, withdrew myself from the conference planning committee in my department. Rather than co-leading one of her two Brownie troops (yes, she's in two troops), I led one meeting this semester and have just helped out occasionally for both troops. Less commitments - that's what I have been going for.
I continued to volunteer at her school on a regular basis, but only for the first half of the year. Then I cut that as well.

Last week, at a Volunteer Appreciation Luncheon, I was recruited to be on a team of first grade moms for the school's golf scramble. It should be interesting - I've never golfed more than 18 holes of mini-golf.
This week, with the book fair at her school and me looking for a way to procrastinate with finishing the thesis and other responsibilities, I found myself spending a good amount of time selling books to children.
I was wary of the other mothers - after all, it's a small school and a small town - they all know each other. I felt accepted, though, and enjoyed spending the past two days with these women. They're interesting - and different from most of the people with whom I spend my time. I was enthralled with their stories and appreciated these new perspectives.

Then I was sucked in - actually, I think that was precisely the term one of them used when we parted this afternoon: "See you on Tuesday - now that we've sucked you in, we won't let you go!"
I've apparently become part of the committee to put together the Teacher and Staff Appreciation Luncheon on Tuesday. I'm in charge of finding entertainment (a musician who will play for a couple of hours) and I'm also drafted to monitor all the children on the playground for two hours while the luncheon takes place.

I know that my thesis is getting mad at me for not finishing it - but I have more and more sympathy for my own parents whom I always berated for being such "joiners."