Imagination

I am reading Steven Tyler’s book Does The Noise In My Head Bother You?  Anyone who is clueless regarding who Steven Tyler is I will clue you in.  Steven Tyler is the lead singer of Aerosmith and for those who just discovered him, he was one of the judges on American Idol. 

Okay, now that we aren’t all clueless in Highland, or wherever you live, what prompted me to write is Steven’s imagination as a child.  Come to find out, Steven had an imaginary family just like me!  I KNEW that is why I have a connection with him.

My imaginary family was the Smith family.  All first names started with a “K,” with the exception of the boy in the family.  The Smith family consisted of, in order or age, Kathleen, Karen, Kathy, Karolyn, Kim, and Phillip.  I believe I named the boy Phillip because I had a crush on a Phil in grade school. 

What is quite interesting about this family is imaginary Karen Smith was a teacher in this family.  Why is this interesting?  I now work with a teacher whose name is, you guessed it, Karen Smith.  Imaginary Karen Smith was also the teacher to my 50+ student stuffed animals piled on my bed.  “Real” Karen Smith would pull her hair out if she walked in with 50 students sitting there.

Thank goodness in the 70’s I wasn’t marked as a “Sybil” with all these multiple personalities.  My parents didn’t rush me to the nuthouse because I had this imaginary family with me.  In a time where there were no constant video games or cable TV, kids were actually using their imagination to create fun. 

Does anybody ever just lie on the grass and look up at the clouds to see what shape they are forming?  Probably not.  When my son was younger at times he would say, “I am bored.”  My response?  “It is good to be bored.  When you are an adult, you will have many moments when you wish you are bored.”

It is quite sad when asking kindergarteners if they have ever played a board game and their response is, “no.”  This just baffles my mind.  The last day of school the entire class was building a “city.”  The city consisted of Lincoln Logs, blocks, etc. etc.  The goal?  Build an imaginary city.  How sad that some students had no clue how to do this.  Some didn’t even know where to begin!  I am sure some kids are just used to having a controller in their hand and face glued to a television set.  Your imagination can make up some of the best games……FOR FREE.

I did let my son play video games; however, there was a time limit.  His room was also filled with Legos and blocks.  Shaun could even build with K’NEX at an early age.  When I look at the K’NEX “how to” sheet, I stare at it and say, “Really?”  You might as well put a Calculus book in front of my face because it looks the same to me.  Plus, this child could play chess at an early age.  Me?  I would make my own Chess rules by using my imagination.  My Chess game was much more fun that all those “real” Chess rules.

As you read this, take a trip back into your imagination time.  Hopefully it will bring a smile to your face as you remember those simple childhood imagination days.    J

Bras

I was going through writer’s block today.  Sitting in my chair, looking to the left and to the right, as if doing this my fingers would suddenly come to life and words would pour out like there was no tomorrow.  Hmm, no such luck.

I then looked at a friend’s status and saw what kind of day she was having.  Apparently, her boys were trying on her bras.  Yes, that’s right.  I am sure she is quite entertained watching her boys, whom are in elementary school, parading in her bras.  Yes folks, summer don’t get better than that!  This friend had actually said, “Why not write about my family?”  My response?  “You might have something here.”

As her boys are parading around in bras, this got me thinking about my bra days, or lack thereof, when I really don’t care and feel like kicking them as I walk.

When you are a young girl, you just CANNOT WAIT to strap them in.  My first “strapping” was in 5^th grade.  But what did the strapping lead to in school?  Boys snapping them in the back.  Nothing like having hook marks in your back from the snapping.  This is what I have been waiting for?  To have battle scars from wearing a bra?

Now 6^th grade rolls around and things are quite different.  The boys who were master snappers are now ogling you from top to top.  Yes, top to top.  Lord help you now if you weren’t WEARING a bra, because then they would tease you to death.  They were curious about what size cup you were, too.  If you had an A cup, which I did at the time, why even bother?

So it goes and the battle of the bra continues through life.  Nice and perky when you are young.  Oh how good your boobages (my made up word) look in that million dollar bra you are wearing by Victoria’s Secret.  Who am I kidding?  At that point in your life you can attach two pieces of Kleenex to a string to cover you and you would look great!

As with everything else, when we get older our boobs like to go south.  Especially if you add having kids to the mix.  Thank you children!  I brought you life and my reward is kicking my boobs around.  I guess it gives you something to do when you are bored.  Imagine this conversation, “What did you do today, honey?”  “Well, since I had nothing better to do, I played a game of kickball with my boobs and I WON!”

Gone are the days of the single hook in the back.  Hello days of double and even triple hooks.  Padding, underwire, over wire, everywhere wire, that is what I have today.  No more using one hand to undo and release the beasts.  At times, at least for me, it can look like I am swatting flies or doing a Bollywood dance just to get out of the dreaded bolder holder.

So young girls, enjoy your A’s.  If those boys are picking on you when you are young and also giving you battle scars on your back, if you have the guts, give them a wedgey.  Let them see how it feels when something is pulling on the ballage (another word I made up) area.

For all of us getting older gals, I say let them hang sometimes.  Any form of suffocation is not good.  Besides, there is nothing better than playing a game of kickball with yourself and you always win.  J

*This entry is dedicated to Sheri Kollwitz Graegin and Family.  Thank you for the inspiration.

Breathe

Looking up at the clear blue sky, everything looks at peace.  Is it really?  The leaves are swaying and the sun is shining, as if all is okay in the world.

As I look closer, some of the leaves are waving wildly, as if in torment or perhaps doing a happy dance.  While other leaves are calm and just gently blowing in the wind, breathing in and out.

Today I sit, with my baseball cap on and my hood pulled over my head.  Not wanting to be seen.  My body is in torment today, and perhaps if I hide and sit still, I will be ok.  Like the gentle leaves blowing, I am calm just sitting.  No pain, just calm.  Just breathe.

As I get up, I am like the wildly waving leaves…my body in torment.  I try and gently put my feet on the ground; however, the movement is not smooth.  If I am not careful, I will fall.  The movement is like the tormented leaves…swaying wildly back and forth, until I can get my balance.  Instead of a graceful walk, the steps are sharp movements.  I need to:

Just breathe.

Take a breath and look around you.

Gently close your eyes.

Inhale slowly and then exhale.

Listen to the birds chirping and feel the wind through your hair.

Just breathe, for a breath can be taken from you without warning.

Enjoy the peace that is nature, the peace that is your own breath.

Whenever life gets to you, close your eyes and just breathe.

A Kindergarten Tale

Now that I have been out of the classroom for about a week, I feel I can now delve into the wonderful world of the kindergarten class, or as I fondly call them The Children of the Corn.

Let me school you on those little 5 and 6-year olds.  Everyone, that is everyone not in the classroom, has said to me, “Oh how cute, kindergarten.”  Those people are DOOMED if they are to go into the classroom and teach, doomed and possibly tied up in the back of the classroom.  Yes, they appear cute on the outside but careful because they have horns.  Just ask any substitute who comes in nicely groomed to a kindergarten class all smiles. And what was she thinking wearing nice pants and stiletto heels?  Those nice pants turned into a step stool for the kindergartener who does now know how to tie their shoes. And those heels?  That’s a joke.  I am sure she should have rethought that one.  By the end of the day, she is disheveled.  Makeup smudged, hair standing straight up due to the glue that was “accidentally” put in her hair by one of the students. The smile that was on her face at the beginning of the day has turned into a “When do they get out of here?” look of panic. 

Each year brings in new faces and 25 different personalities.  Some may not realize these little people have NO CLUE how to line up.  Folks, they just don’t come in knowing how to do things.  At the beginning of kindergarten, the line kind of looks like the platoon in the movie Stripes….all over the place.  The following cadence is used to try and get things in order:

      Follow the person in front of you.

      Follow the person in front of you.

      Follow the person in front of you.

Sounds easy enough, right?  But to the new kindergartener, they have no clue what in front of you or behind you mean!

In our classroom we have a lot of “fests” going on, and it’s not the type of fests you may be thinking of.  Also, we add the year we are in to accentuate the word “fest”.  Here are some examples:

1. This is not “bathroom fest 2011” which means when one goes to the bathroom the next 24 all of a sudden are going to explode in their pants.

2. This is not “drink fest 2011” which means when one student needs a drink the next 24 are going to die of thirst.

3. This is not “talk fest 2011” which means we really don’t care what you have to say right now.

4. This is not “tattle fest 2011” which means we really don’t want to know that Johnny looked at you.

Cute, right?  Sure..maybe if you are new to the classroom, but try this for 180 days!

Like I said earlier, each year brings in a new set of students, with various personalities.  This year I was “flashed” by a little boy twice.  Why twice?  Perhaps he was thinking, “Hmm, maybe she didn’t catch me, I am going to try this again.  I need some sort of response.”  My response was, “Really?  Do you do that at home?”  He shook his head no and folded his hands in his lap.  I am happy to say there were no more flashes after this incident, thank God!

Kindergarteners just say whatever.  This is why many teachers could write books because YOU CANNOT MAKE THIS STUFF UP.  Case in point.  We were at bathroom break.  After you use the bathroom, wash your hands, and take a drink you sit down with your hands folded.  This one particular day, Johnny (whose name has been changed to protect the innocent.  Ha!  Innocent!).  Okay, getting back to the story, Johnny was sitting down; hands folded when he suddenly cocked his head to the side, put his finger to his lip and questioned himself, “Did I toot?  I think I tooted.”  I will give him this; at least he answered his own question.  The girl he sat next to, God bless her, remained quiet but was probably thinking to herself, “If you don’t know that was your air that escaped your cheeks, math and reading are sure going to be hard for you.”

To think, I quit a Financial Representative job to work with these creatures.  First I volunteered and eventually decided I loved it. Even when I was laid off, I continued to volunteer in the classroom.  I love what I do and it keeps me sane, or maybe a little insane.  J

Inspiration

Inspiration:  the action or power of moving the intellect or emotions.  I have an inspiration, and he is living under my roof.  This inspiration is my son, Shaun.

Shaun and I were both in a serious car accident when he was 6-years old.  Thank goodness I took the brunt of the accident.  This accident is why I have a Frankenfoot:  a plate and 13 screws. 

Physical therapy was a nightmare.  I had developed RSD (reflex sympathetic dystrophy), which is a neurological condition that affects the skin, muscles, joints and bones.  Just a touch to my foot and I would nearly jump out of my skin.  There were plenty of tears during the course of my therapy.  To this day, my right foot is cold and does not like to be touched.

Who was my source of inspiration?  My son.  I remember people coming up to me during therapy and saying, “How do you do it?  Therapy hurts!”  My response, “I have a 6-year old son, and I am not about to let this bump in the road stop me from doing anything and everything with him.”

There have been many bumps in the road I have had to endure….the numerous surgeries, cancer, autoimmune issues but who continues to inspire?  My son.  Nobody could take better care of him than me, his mother.

Shaun pushes me, even though he doesn’t know it.  He keeps me grounded and inspires me.  He asks for my opinion with his music, and in doing so makes me want to continue with what I love to do….write. 

Growing up was difficult for me because I never felt good enough.  Never thought I was smart enough.  Those insecurities follow me to this day.   Having an inspiration has helped me.  I never thought an inspiration could be my own child.  However, it makes sense…he is my own flesh and blood.  His inspiration runs through my blood and in turn, I believe runs through his blood.

I Have OCD

I have OCD.  Those of you who know me, probably didn’t know this little tidbit of information.  Those of you who REALLY know me, like my best friend Carole, know about it and have to deal with the insanity.

I plot and plan whenever I have to go to more than one place in my car. I am my own MapQuest.  J  If this gets deviated, I break out into a sweat.  Here is an example of me picking up Carole to go do our errands:

1.   If we are going to the library in Highland, my car must be facing south.  If I am facing north, that is just INSANE because that means we have to backtrack.  Not a good idea.

2.   Next checkpoint, going to Strack’s on Cline Avenue.  We are rolling, and on the right track.

3.   Next, going to the dollar store on Cline Avenue.  Again, we are doing well because we are following a circle path, which will lead us back to Carole’s house.

However, sometimes a “wrench” is thrown in like Carole forgetting to tell me she has to go to the bank.  Not good because the bank is not in my carefully planned out circular path.  After several deep breaths and smacking Carole in the face, we go to her bank.  I might add, I have an oxygen mask on because I can’t breathe due to this mess up.

When I grocery shop, I have to buy cans in an even amount.  That is, except for tuna.  Tuna cans are bought in threes.  Again, I don’t know why.  Perhaps the great tuna Gods know.

My obsessions over checking the door and curling iron are much better.  The curling iron issue was awful.  It was even more maddening when I worked in Chicago.  In my mind I pictured my entire house bursting into flames.  Now, when I buy a curling iron, I make sure I buy the automatic shut off iron. 

Which leads me to a post on Facebook:  “Should I jump in the pool before 9:00?”  I have strict rules regarding this.  I feel I should not go in the pool prior to 9:00 a.m.  Why?  Good question, which I have no answer.  It took great courage for me to jump in the pool before 9:00 a.m., and I can tell you that I lived to tell the tale.  Also, night swimming is a big issue for me as well.  I feel I should not be in a pool unless there is sun over the pool.  What good are the beautiful lit up toys unless you USE them at night? 

Here are some other quirky Kathy obsessions:

·        I cannot eat breakfast after 11:00 a.m.

·        I cannot go into my pool until June.

·        I cannot drink hot coffee after 10:00 a.m.

·        I cannot buy or use holiday plates or decorations, unless we are in the holiday month.  However, 4^th of July I start in June.

I have to add, once the holiday is over all things must come down.  I don’t know why, it is just an obsession.  I get crazed when things are still up and I begin to twitch.  My mom doesn’t understand this, especially during Christmas season.

The moral of the blog, if you ever have to deal with me and take me places hopefully you are as obsessed as I am about backtracking.  If not, don’t mind my twitching and I carry my oxygen with me.  J

Bathing Suit Weather

Ahh, bathing suit weather.  You have gotta love it….or HATE it.  With me, I have mixed emotions which are:

1.    School is out and time to swim!  (I give this an A+ Grade).

2.    School is out and I have to find a swimsuit. (I give this an F- Grade).

Here is the dilemma every year.  Due to the lovely incisions on my stomach, which produce a “butt stomach”, the bottoms I choose for my bathing suit can be quite tricky.  I have to find the bottoms that will go over the butt stomach area.  If you get them to low, besides your normal butt hanging out in the back, your butt stomach hangs over the front.  NOT a pretty picture, unless I want to stand there with my hands on my hips and a cigar hanging from my lips.

How funny it is to even TRY on the bottoms that tie on the sides.  On me you wouldn’t even be able to see the ties on the side due to the roll.  Sexiness at its best.  No longer am I a size 5 and won’t scare people by trying on a suit that a size fiver should wear.

Moving to the top of the bathing suit.  I long for the days when I was an A cup.  With what I am packing on top NOW, I swear it took me 20 minutes just to situate my top.  I should have turned on the radio and maybe I could have danced while shoving things into my top to look right.  Things being my now D cups.  I push one way, and one falls out.  I push the other way, the other one falls out.  I push up and nearly hit my chin.  You get the picture.

I did solve my problem with my top, as only a Polish woman would do.  I used safety pins.  Yes, that’s right, safety pins.  I used them in the front so the top would close better.  Now at least it looks like a nice path instead of the valley of the doomed. 

I am happy to say the only people who are subjected to my bathing suit attire are my neighbors.  Even then I try and put on a cover up so as not to scare innocent people.  Better yet, if you don’t like the look, cover your eyes! J