From Motherhood and Student-hood to Motherhood and Teaching

I had almost decided to shut down this blog. Then decided that I need a place to write, even if no one is reading anymore.

I've treasured the time that I've had with my daughter since I've gone back to finish my degree. I feel like I've gotten to sneak in some extra hours at the park or playing games with her that typical working moms don't get to. At least I didn't when I worked.

Now, as I'm readying myself to enter the full-time work force, I wonder what kinds of sacrifices I'll have to make with family time. Will I have to be at the school for hours while she waits in boredom? Will she despise the profession of education as I despise the profession of business because of all the time she'll have to spend there? Or will she not want to attend college because she'll remember all the nights I've had to tell her that "Mommy's working on a paper right now; please, please, please, please go play in the OTHER room, now"?

Or will she continue the path that she's on? She pretends to teach me, her dolls, her stuffed animals, and her invisible friends, which I hope is a completely normal stage for a girl being raised as an only child. Maybe she'll be a teacher.

What will change next school year when she's in kindergarten? Will she learn all the concepts that I've worked so hard to shelter her from? Will she get special treatment because her mother's a teacher in the district? I hope not. This will not help her princess attitude in the least.

With the random selection of undergraduate classes that I'm enrolled in for the semester comes a new group of faces that I've never had classes with before. Some of them were born after I began kindergarten. Really. Some of them are closer to my age though. By a year or two. Some of them are obnoxious. Some of them are sweet. A few of them I'll even attempt to "friend" on facebook. These few are the ones in my lone English class this semester. They are young, nosey, and think they know everything about life. Like I was 5 or 6 years ago.

The braver of the few has asked me about my life. "Is that hard?" she asks of being a single mom. "YES!" I want to scream, but I'm afraid that my hasty answer will scare her away from motherhood forever. It's not that bad. It's just that being a single mother complicates things. It brings on guilt and burdens that mothers in nuclear families probably don't have. Maybe they do--they're just better at masking it than I am. Or maybe they don't have mothers who guilt trip them anytime they need a night out. Maybe.

Back to the braver of the few. She asked me about how hard it is to be a single mom. "It's tough, I'm not gonna lie," I tell her, "but I wouldn't trade it for the world," which is the truth. I told her that honestly I don't know what I would be doing without my daughter in my life right now. Working at Sonic still? I wouldn't have given up the kind of life I was living. It was fun. But everything changed when I saw the plus sign. + started my family. I just wish it wasn't so complicated for her sake.

Memorial Day For Moms and Daughters

Madeline is in the "asking questions" stage of her pre-school years. If you thought she was inquisitive before, "you ain't seen nothin' yet." Since she has been spending more time with and talking to her dad lately, she has been asking more and more (and more) questions about family in general. One of which is, "Who is so-and-so's daddy/mommy/brother/sister/cousin?" 'So-and-so' may refer to me or any random person in Wal-Mart, it doesn't matter the girl wants to know.



She has asked my parents who their parents are as well. My grandfather on my mother's side passed away over eight years ago. So when Madeline asked my mother about her dad, it was difficult to explain this to a three-almost-four year old. She was just not happy with our, "Well, honey, he passed away before you were born."



Sunday, on the way home from grandmother on my mother's side's house, we stopped at Grandpa's grave. I hadn't been there for five years or so*, it was difficult for me to find it. My mom helped, and soon we were all encircling the gravestone. We were trying to gently explain things to Madeline. When I told her that it was time to go, she looked up with her huge innocent eyes and said, "But I want him to get up!" So maybe we didn't answer any questions for her.



In the past eight years since the death of my grandfather, I have been a little sad that he's not around to see things like graduations, etc. But lately, as Madeline's personality continues to develope, I'm sad that my grandfather won't meet Madeline on earth. The mischevious twinkle in her eyes reminds me of him. I was too shy to really be close to my grandfather, but I think she would be if he were still around. I miss you Grandpa, and I wish you could see my wonderful daughter. You'd like her.



*My family has never been "big" in the idea of decorating/visiting graves, etc. We tend to take time to reflect together. My parents have always said that the grave is only where the physical body is, and we need to remember where the spirit is. So, don't think I'm a horrible granddaughter for not visiting his grave. I think of him often.

It's Gotta Be Somewhere...

I consider myself a person in the "easy-going," "Type-B" category of people most of the time. There are certain situations that can really make me seem the opposite, most of them involve members of the opposite sex that refuse to acknowledge the blundering of their ways and the enlightenment of my way. Most of the time, I am a flexible person, and no one needs to worry about offending me or making me angry when they make an off-hand comment. I am not easily offended and would rather concern myself with putting energy where it matters, and that is NOT with being angry over trivial matters or upset over nothing or picky about details that I cannot change anyway. This is just who I am. Not everyone is like this, but I rather enjoy this. I think it helps me enjoy the little moments in life, like getting "cuddle time" with my daughter or a ten minute phone conversation with a friend. I would consider my mother the opposite type of person. I have very few memories of "cuddling" with her or just hanging out and reading a book. She is a very "goal seeking" person, and most of her goals involved a spotless house when I was a kid. Crazy, wonderful woman. We contrast in this way. She is the uptight personality, I am the more easy going one. However, this is not always the case. I do have "things" that really bother me. "Things" that I won't do, have, touch, be near. Everyone does.

I have to say that one thing that really bothers me is underwear. Not my own, or now my daughter's, but other peoples'. I am very weird about folding even my family's under garments. I mean, they're my family. I lived with them. I made a very big deal about folding other people's underwear until I was too old to be doing that. I don't know when I was traumatized or why this bothers me so much, but it does. Every time I think about it, I flash back to age eight or so at my grandpa and grandma I's house. I found an old skate board in their garage and needed to clean it off. My grandmother handed me some soap, water, and a pair of my grandfather's old underwear to clean it with. I refused to touch anything but the band to clean with. I hated it. Eww. I'm hating even typing this. Gross.

This all leads to the bags of clothes that my dear Aunt Beth passed on to my daughter this weekend. I'm very excited about them. I went through them and found lots of pretty summer dresses and cute shorts for my little one. Also in the bag of hand-me-downs were two pair of little girl underwear that I was going to throw away. They are used underwear. Eww. I have enough money to buy underwear for my kid. Maybe not everyone does, but I do. However, my mother does not feel the same way. Before I could dump the unwanted under garments in the trash can, she "rescued" them and put them in the washer. "They're just little girls, Rachel. Their underwear can't be that bad," she smiled at me like I was crazy. "I don't care, Mother; it's gross!" came my witty reply. "Well, I'll keep them, just in case of an emergency," she smiled again.

So, I ask you, what kind of emergency will keep me from driving 3.5 miles to the closest dollar store and buying her a new pair next time I forget to pack enough underwear? What kind of "emergency" would keep me from putting her pants on her WITHOUT underwear and driving the extra 5 miles to Wal-Mart if she needed underwear that bad?

Used underwear, beware. When I find you, you're so out in the dumpster. I'm the mom. I have to draw the line. Here it is.

Pictures, etc.

This has been a very long semester. I'm a little stressed, but all is well. My new nephew is adorable, and I can't wait to get my hands on him to babysit (that is, I can't wait to have the time to get my hands on him to babysit). Here are a couple of my new favorite pictures. I have officially joined the digital camera world. I love it, but I miss my regular old film. My advantix film camera finally bit the dust. The battery went dead, and now I can't get the last roll of partially used film out or used. I'm not sure that that kind of film is still readily available anyway. C'est la vive. There are lots more pictures posted on facebook if you want to check that out.

Madeline, with attitude (below: Anthony Matthew and Madeline Grace)

It's a Boy!

I haven't officially shared this news until now, because I did not feel that it was my news to share. But now, I'm just too dang excited not to share... Are you ready?

Really?

Matthew (everyone's favorite little brother) and his girlfriend Andrea (who is wonderful) are having a baby. Not only that, but they had a sonogram today and found out that they were having a healthy baby BOY!

I am very excited for them. I know that they will make great parents. Congratulations, Kids! (well, maybe I shouldn't call them kids any more...) I'm very happy for you!