The Future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades

Often we make friends because there are commonalities among us. We like similar things, our humor is the same or our children are friends.

Being friends because your children are friends isn’t always the best idea. When the kids fight and separate, things can become awkward between the adults if you let it. My Chatterbox had has an ongoing friendship with a gal since kindergarten. This girl’s mom and I have been friends that long as well – actually more so. We would go on girl only weekends, scrapbook together and we even share the same birthday.  Our girls no longer ‘play’ or ‘hangout’ together, and they go to different schools, but that doesn’t stop them for being Facebook friends, or speaking fondly of each other. Friendships change and evolve. I do not have the same friends from kindergarten, nor do I expect my children to have those same relationships. But I do think fondly of some of my childhood pals, and I hope my children do too.

Today on Facebook, all my mom friends were posting first day of school pics and comments about their child toddling off to school. My youngest toddled off to Grade 10 this morning, running to catch the bus for fear she would be late. Her friends showed up 5 minutes later and I sent them towards the bus stop. I paused to think about my first day in High School. I stopped by to pick up a friend and we walked to school together. The weather was similar as it was today, warm and sunny, with wind blowing gently. It was a melancholy day.

To me it is just another sign that my children are growing in independence and I have less hands on time with them. To make up for this, I make sure I am available for when they seek me out to chat. I heard about her day and the comparisons that were made between her and her brother. I heard about her plans to out shine her brother in some areas and make her own mark in others. I definitely have a confident girl. (*Author’s Note: I rarely talk about The Boy, mostly because he forbids me. I respect that. It has nothing to do with favorites – because obviously I am their favorite.)

Conversations drifted from drama and the improv team to cheerleading and running. It looks like she will give the Cheer Team a pass and go out for the Cross Country Run Team.

Nice.

I have to admit to loving this idea a whole lot. (We ran together last week at a 5k race in Edmonton and are planning a girls trip to WDW together so we can run the 5k together there. It is cool for me to run with my girl, just as cool as it was for me to run with my dad.)

 

When she was in grade 6 she was determined to be a cheerleader. I think it had to do with the High School Musical rage at the time. She made academic choices to head towards schools with a cheer team that was active in the competitive community, and not just about shaking pom poms for football. She enrolled in a school with a cheer team that consistently wins and travels to the US for competitions. Now that high school has arrived for my girl, she thinks she is a runner.

I like watching her run. She has that Gazelle stride I dream of having. It is something she is good at with little effort, so applying a lot of effort may have her see moderate to high success. I think its great to find something you excel at in school. I wish I had when I was her age, I was a late bloomer instead. That’s okay too.

She may decide that running isn’t for her either. Also okay. That is what high school is all about. Trying new things and figuring out the learning curve. Meeting new friends who share similar interests with you. My friend’s daughter said, “High School is for finding bridesmaids.” Isn’t that the truth! Find great friends, laugh and cry with them. Try new things and fail miserably at some stuff while you succeed at others. Take risks and play it safe, all within the same week.

ChatterBox was ready for bed at dinner time today. She managed to stay awake long enough to enjoy her evening.

It is shaping up to be a fantastic year.

The dreaded first day of school

Today is the first day for school for most kids I know. Children everywhere are missing summer, feeling sick to their stomach and fearing the unknown.

Me too.

When I was in grade 3 I had moved 13 times. This was to be the final home I was going to grow up in. My parents carefully picked my school so I could walk every day and not have to take the bus like they did. My mom made my lunch everyday with fresh, good for me ingredients when all I wanted was peanut butter sandwich and an apple, everyday until I died. Never happened. She insisted on variety. She was concerned about what the other moms would think. News flash moms, other moms don’t come to school to judge lunches.

I had a milk card and could order milk or juice every day for 25 cents.

Hot dog day was the last Friday of every month.

I was sent to school with a new wardrobe and new shoes. My note books were fresh and tidy, I vowed to keep them that way. That vow lasted less than a week. I remember being nervous about not making friends. That was always hard for me. My brother had a knack for meeting kids and being instant best friends. That lasted until he became an adult and didn’t care if people liked him or not. I, on the other hand, worried endlessly over who would like me and who wouldn’t. I blamed my hair. To be fair, it was clown hair.

We all assembled into the music room. I knew not a soul. The teachers up front called out the names of children. I heard “Robyn” but didn’t budge. I looked around the room to see if the hundreds of other Robyn’s stood up to join the teacher. No one did. She looked to the other Teachers and said, “The new girl? Anyone seen her?” That is when I knew it was me. Here I was the new girl…again. Grade 3 and already been to 5 different schools, 2 of those 5 my dad was a teacher in. I typically bonded with the adults and not the children. Weird, still a problem for me. Most of my friends are much older than I. I am sure a psychiatrist will have fun with that one.

We were led down the hall and shown to our class. Ours was the one without windows. Part of a 1970’s fad about fluorescent lights being good for focus. Thank heavens the pilot project on “Open Classrooms” was done. 6 classrooms with no walls. I think the concept was for the students to mingle in non traditional settings but typical administration, you can’t possibly change the way things have been done for a 100 years. I emerged from grade 2 with chronic headaches and glasses. Still, a class of 30, no windows and a teacher who didn’t like her job and thought smiling might kill her was my destiny. I dreaded recess. I dreaded recess every day until Grade 9 when we didn’t have it any more because we were part of the high school.

School is a lot different now and yet exactly the same. Moms take care of details so kids don’t need to. Food is pre-packaged and not as nutritious so kids don’t have the capacity to stay focused. The teachers who now teach, are there because their school experience sucked and they want to make a difference. They become disillusioned with the growing class sizes, inclusion that doesn’t work and parents who are in your face with problems that aren’t really problems.

The culture of school in middle class communities is very different from when I was a kid. Good grades are expected. Children compete with their peers and parents are emailed if assignments are missed. It certainly is a different world. I remembering not caring about marks, some how as if by magic, good ones appeared on my report card.

The parts that will be the same are the kids the will walk into school with a parent, holding their hand and hiding slightly behind their mom’s arm. They will look on a board to discover what class they are in and see if their friends are with them. They will carry their heavy bags to their room and look for a desk with their name on it. Most teachers take away the scary bits by deciding that for you. They will talk about class rules, and decide which ones are important and help make up new ones. This creates a culture agreement they can live with. The younger grades will be paired up with buddies so recess won’t be scary.

Then it is time to go home. I remember walking home from school in grade 3 on my very first day. I lived 3 doors down from the school. I came home and my Grandma was there to ask me about my day, she made me a snack. Then my dad came home and asked me about my day and if I made any new friends yet. I said yes. Her name was Cheryl. We would be best friends for about 5 months until Carrie with the beautiful hair stole her away from me. I realize now, my shyness was the barrier between me and friends. By the time I reached high school, that shyness was almost all gone. I never showed it on the outside. Now, it is non existent. I had to learn the difference between shy and bold and walk the path in the middle. Not everyone figures that out.

Today is the big day for teachers and children alike. 10 months from now, we won’t even remember what the first day felt like because we are so comfortable in our classroom with the culture the classmates built with the guidance of the teacher.

Now if only I had a Muppet Lunch kit like my daughter has, it would be easier.

She Wore Red Cowboy Boots

While I am away, I am reposting some of my olders blogs from 2011. It is interesting to see where I have come from. This is from /2011/01/08.

I was out last night and ran into my Grade 9 Drama and Religion Teacher. I think I had a tiny crush on her in grade 9 – not the “OMG You play for THAT team?” No, the kind of crush girls get on other girls when they are and do so many fabulous things. She was always dressed so stylishly, had a killer figure, was smart, funny and made me think. Reading over this I don’t think you believe me. It does sound like I had the OTHER kind of crush. Not true. She was a significant role model and mentor for me. The year was 1981.

Flash forward to 2011. She has GOT to be pushing the other side of 60. She was wearing knee-high red cowboy boots, a really cute cut above the knee denim skirt, a great rust red short jacket and she had a blonde bouncy pony tail. Clearly she has grayed but dyes it blonde. Same fabulous smile, and same great relationship with her students. I’m crushing again.

As mentors go, I never once saw her sad, angry or depressed. I knew plenty of teachers who were. I loved it when I could please her or make her laugh and it killed me the day I disappointed her. It was wonderful to see her still reaching out to her students and making them WANT to do better. I bet she has touch a 1000 lives and has no idea how she truly affected them in the long run.

Alex Anderson, a man who also had a profound influence on my life so far, explained to me about the ripple effect. A tiny pebble drops into the water and creates a ripple, many ripples grow from there. Each one affecting the before and after. The pebble is you or me. Think about how many lives you have touched. Good, bad or indifferent.

After seeing my Grade 9 Teacher, I thought about how she made me think, and how she may have been disappointed with path my life took after High School. I really hadn’t thought about her until yesterday when I saw her again. Now she is all I can think about. I am thinking about the choices I made and how the ripple effect touched the people around me.

2011 is laid out before me. I have some big choices to make. I hope I make the right kind of ripple.

Maybe I should buy a pair of red cowboy boots.

I have become THAT Mom

We have been celebrating a bit LOT in the Tourist household this past week!  It seems that if you say YES more than you say NO, the possibilities become vast.

This time last year, my eldest kiddo GeneticOffspring (GO) registered for High School and said he was going to take bigger risks and try new things. I encouraged that frame of mind. It was working for me so why wouldn’t it work for everyone? GO is a was a very shy person who was afraid of what if’s. That seems to be an epidemic. The worry of What If. He entered High School with the intention of joining new clubs, speaking to new people and best of all trying new things.

How did that work out for him? Well, grade 10 was filled with new friends, higher marks, extra curricular activities, and laughter. All of these outcomes were a result of saying YES! Because his attitude and hard work became visible to teachers who run the extra curricular clubs, GO was invited to join the Grade 11 and 12 Concert Band and Improve Team to travel to California to represent Canada in a band competition. Since he was already on the Improve team, Band, Jazz Band and is a nice kid, the selection was made easier for the teachers. He was given a new instrument to learn (E flat alto clarinet, not that big of a change from B flat but big enough that we needed to google E flat alto clarinet fingering ) and new music to play. He had 3 days to learn before his first performance. Knowing him the way I do, this was a HUGE step of YES and I knew he was shaking inside.

The highlight of the trip for him is performing IN DISNEYLAND. We all know how I feel about Disneyland. Well, I passed that gene on to my kiddos. He says he can’t wrap his head around sitting in the Plaza Gardens beside the Castle, overlooking Walt and Mick (the Partners Statue in the center of the Hub). He has been practising for hours. He has learned that with practice and hard work you are better. Better at music, better at understanding the reasons behind hard work and most importantly, better at being an authentic self.

While he practices, we get to enjoy the musical stylings of the Alto Clarinet while it plays the Muppet Show Theme song, The Disneyland Medley and and a bunch of other fantastic musical numbers that have my toes tapping.

Image via Wikipedia

Occasionally I yell out “TEMPO” and the Tempo returns and the music is once again easily recognized.

This is SUCH a proud moment for our family, it was decided that we must pack up and fly to Disneyland to listen to MY Offspring play Disney music IN Disneyland! How could I not? I am going to film it. We booked the flights and the hotel. Plan to be there for just the weekend. We shared this wonderful news with GO and as you can imagine it went over like a led balloon…

The look of horror on his face said it all. The first thing out of my mouth was “you won’t know we are there. We are staying far from you. If you see us on Main Street, I won’t look at you. If you want to approach us then you must come to us”. He seems a little better about that. I understand, I really do. His first trip alone and his mommy is coming. First of all I WISH! They get to go to Disney Studios! I promised I would pay for the trip only if (he thought I was going to say only if he paid for half the ticket, but NO) took a lot of pictures of the studio! I WANNA GO! He was surprised and thankful to hear that!

The truth of the matter is, it didn’t occur to me that I should fly down that weekend to watch GO play, I was thinking how cheap it would be to travel without him! I could think of a million things we could do without him complaining. We wouldn’t have to go to the Lego Store! I asked ChatterBox where she wanted to go and she said to see the Stars on Hollywood Blvd. Cool! I’d love to do that! We could go to El Capitain Theatre, I have always wanted to do that and see the Chinese Theatre, then go eat at Disney’s Soda Shop!

So for all intense purposes I am THAT Mom, the one who can’t wait to get rid of her kid so I can go play. Only you and I know differently…and so will GO after we return home and he sees the stalker concert footage filmed by a proud mama.

You are Welcome! But seriously, Thank You.

I have had a very interesting week. Stars are starting to align for me. A friend today said, I’m not superstitious but I think something amazing is about to happen for you. Really? I hope so. I don’t want to jinx anything, but damn it universe, I am DUE!

This may be old news to some of you but new to others. 20 some-odd years ago I was a Pre-school Teacher in an Edmonton Suburb where BMW’s and Audi’s were way more common than Escorts and Civics. I learned many, many things about myself, both good and bad. I had made huge mistakes but also made enormous good choices. I was in my early twenties. I was bright eyed and bushy tailed, I loved my job. I loved my students. I made amazing connections with these young 4 year olds. They taught me plenty. Many times over the recent years I thought about what a different world I work in now, yet still thought about these individuals and wondered how their life turned out.

Studies show by having a positive preschool experience can lead to success later in life. These children are more likely to stay in school, and move on to secondary education.

Over the past little while, former students have been showing up in my life. I am taking a class with a mother of a former student. How did I remember this mom 21 years later? Her child had a profound impact on me. We connected on a level that I cannot explain. I have thought about her many times over the years. I even considered naming ChatterBox after her. I discover she is about to graduate from a university program and about to become the type of professional I work with everyday. How surreal would it be if she ended up in my staff-room? Secretly, I would love that.

Yesterday I went to my Pharmacy. The Student Pharmacist had her name embroidered on her lab coat. I looked at her face, and knew who it was. I hadn’t seen her in 22 years. Her brilliance as a four year old astounded me then. Yet here she was explaining to me about possible side-effects. I said “I think I was your Pre-school Teacher” She looked at me as if I was bonkers. I said, “you were allergic to milk and peanuts. I could only give you rice products for dairy and I wore an epipen everyday – just in case” She became all excited and said “I out grew the milk allergy!!” YAY! I told her to say hi to her mom for me and was  happy she had been successful at school. She replied with, I really loved preschool.

That made me smile.

I have met several other children over the past two weeks that I use to teach, about 7 in all. I love the way their face lights up as they remember me.

Yesterday I registered Genetic Offspring for High School. He had a grade one teacher who made tremendous impact on him. She loved science, taught my son why you should love science, and he never looked back. Talking with the school counsellor yesterday, she convinced him he really needed AP Science, then she would let him take Chem 20 as an option in his second semester. My little boy man-child went to bed incredibly excited to start grade 10. His head swimming with plans to study math so he can succeed beyond expectations in physics. He will do it. He has had some amazing teacher mentors that inspire him.

Thinking about the effect one person can make in your life can be overwhelming. For me personally, there is one. This is person I will be eternally grateful for. They taught me I matter, my feelings are important, and showered me with all the support and comfort I needed during a time when I really didn’t think I mattered all that much. I haven’t spoke with this person in a really long time. I need to send them a note to let them know how grateful I am. I challenge you to do the same.

Meeting past students brightened my days this week. I know I didn’t get them through University, but I like to think I may have helped. Actually, I know I helped one in particular, because she told me so.

Next stop on the Edmonton Tourist Journey…Thank-you-ville

 

She Wore Red Cowboy Boots

 

I was out last night and ran into my Grade 9 Drama and Religion Teacher. I think I had a tiny crush on her in grade 9 – not the “OMG You play for THAT team?” No, the kind of crush girls get on other girls when they are and do so many fabulous things. She was always dressed so stylishly, had a killer figure, was smart, funny and made me think. Reading over this I don’t think you believe me. It does sound like I had the OTHER kind of crush. Not true. She was a significant role model and mentor for me. The year was 1981.

Flash forward to 2011. She has GOT to be pushing the other side of 60. She was wearing knee-high red cowboy boots, a really cute cut above the knee denim skirt, a great rust red short jacket and she had a blonde bouncy pony tail. Clearly she has grayed but dyes it blonde. Same fabulous smile, and same great relationship with her students. I’m crushing again.

As mentors go, I never once saw her sad, angry or depressed. I knew plenty of teachers who were. I loved it when I could please her or make her laugh and it killed me the day I disappointed her. It was wonderful to see her still reaching out to her students and making them WANT to do better. I bet she has touch a 1000 lives and has no idea how she truly affected them in the long run.

Alex Anderson, a man who also had a profound influence on my life so far, explained to me about the ripple effect. A tiny pebble drops into the water and creates a ripple, many ripples grow from there. Each one affecting the before and after. The pebble is you or me. Think about how many lives you have touched. Good, bad or indifferent.

After seeing my Grade 9 Teacher, I thought about how she made me think, and how she may have been disappointed with path my life took after High School. I really hadn’t thought about her until yesterday when I saw her again. Now she is all I can think about. I am thinking about the choices I made and how the ripple effect touched the people around me.

2011 is laid out before me. I have some big choices to make. I hope I make the right kind of ripple.

Maybe I should buy a pair of red cowboy boots.

Nice ‘fro! Did you pay to have it look that?

There is something so fabulous about a Drag Show! I was continuing my further adventures through Fringing by attending Guys in Disguise Classic III in 3D.  This had to be my 8 or 9th Drag show spanning 2 decades and I dragged hauled my hubby to this one. It was his first AND he liked it! I love how feminine and girlie and risque the Ladies are. I am kind of jealous actually!

The Google Dictionary describes Feminine as:

fem·i·nine Adjective

• Having qualities or appearance traditionally associated with women, esp. delicacy and prettiness
  • a feminine frilled blouse

I always have looked at the very feminine women in my life and felt a tiny bit envious. Not completely envious…just a tiny bit. For those of you who know me and those you don’t, delicate is not a word that one would use to describe me. As a child I was always compared to Lucy, from the Peanuts. “Bull in a china shop” might be another phrase you could use to describe me. I was never the girl with the hair and make up and dressed to the nines. Maybe briefly during high school, but high school doesn’t count because I wasn’t a fully developed human being yet. I was still trying to figure “it” out. Besides, High School was the 80’s, AND WE ALL KNOW 80’s FASHION WAS GHASTLY! So, no, High School does not count.

Besides, I was cursed blessed with curly hair. The ONLY time my curly hair has been feminine was during the 80’s when big hair was “totally awesome!”.  Curly hair has a mind of it’s own. I remember sitting in front of my mirror every morning before school. Blowing my hair out, curling it, gelling it, until it didn’t look like I stuck my finger in a socket any more. Then off to school I would trot. Once sitting in class, I could actually feel my hair move. All that hard work making my hair looked “totally RAD!” would be for not. No, my hair hated me. It would lay in wait for me to be busy, focused on other things and then it would make it’s move. SPROING! I would leave class with bed head. Yes! I was “totally psyched!” Okay, so I lied, my hair wasn’t even feminine in the 80’s.

What does it feel like to have long gorgeous locks of hair that does what you ask it too and behaves like it loves you? I have a fantastic hair stylist who is reasonably great with my hair. Let’s face it, she is doing the best she can with my hair. Maybe the Drag Queens have got it right. They wear SYNTHETIC hair. I could do that. I could change out my hair everyday and look FABULOUS too! But to be feminine, I would need more then hair. Gigantic feet do not look cute and sexy in a size 10 sling back. True, my eyebrows need pruning, mascara wouldn’t hurt, maybe a pedicure and a manicure would help. So even if the Guys in Disguise gave me a makeover, would feminine be a word you would use to describe me? I can hear you laughing. True, it would take more then a make over.

If being feminine was really important to me, do you think I would have done something about it?  Likely – okay, most definitely. Do I think it is an important part of my tourist exploration? Maybe a little because it is a new avenue and one I have never been down before. Maybe I will start with shoes and a handbag, maybe some great earrings. But PLEASE if I ever start to look like the people of Wal-Mart.http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/ Just let me know.