A Perspective of Kindness

Note: As the school year winds down, teachers are extremely busy and completely submerged in school activities. I apologize in advance for the amount of school related posts that may be headed your way in the next week. It's a hazard of the job!

Every year, we (the 5th grade team) try to have a guest speaker come and talk to our kids about kindness. The speaker is a local photographer and I honestly don't know if I've ever seen a happier person in my life. His whole talk is centered around kindness and how when you plant your own seeds of kindness, you get what you give. I've heard him speak 4 times now, and every time I can't help but take even more away from his message. One story he tells the kids is about a time when he was doing some speaking at a high school. The kids were about to leave his session and head to a class where they did not enjoy the teacher. When he asked them why they didn't enjoy the class, they told him that the man was horrible and mean and all those other adjectives that I'm sure all of us have used to talk about our "favorite" teachers through the years. He told the kids that they should all go to their class, sit down, and just smile at the teacher when he walked in. So, they did just that. The teacher walked in, looked around, and immediately demanded to know what was going on. (Anyone who has been with teenagers will jump to horrible conclusions about what they are up to.) They all said nothing and continued to smile. Eventually, the teacher began to laugh, the kids began to laugh, and when class was over, the kids went and found the photographer and told them they had the best class of their high school career with that teacher. Later in the day, the teacher sought him out, and thanked him for his part in the scheme because it made the class enjoyable.

I'm so glad to hear this story once again with only 5 days left in the school year. By this point in the year, the kids are done and the teachers are done. Patience "ropes" so to speak, are frayed and hanging by a single thread ready to snap at a moments notice, and kids have learned by now exactly how to push every teacher's buttons to snap that strand quickly and effectively. But with a simple smile, everyone can enjoy the last few days together, and everyone will hopefully remember to smile once school rolls around in August.

Another point he makes is about perspective. He asks the kids if they like Mondays, which of course, is met with a resounding no. He tells them he loves Mondays, which leaves them all shocked. He goes on to explain that he doesn't work on Mondays, but he really doesn't like Saturdays, because those are his busiest work days. It's all about perspective. This is so important to remember. A lot of times, we forget about the perspective of the kids. I know I'm guilty of it, and we probably all are at some time. My reality is that I have a nice home, with all the amenities of modern living. I have clothes on my back and food on my table. I have a husband who loves me and a son who lights up my life. I have a job with people I love and I have hobbies that I enjoy in my spare time. My perspective is that I can't wait for summer vacation to begin so I can spend an unlimited amount of time with my family.

But I have to take time to think about the kids' perspective. There are kids who live in houses that I wouldn't even qualify as a house. There are kids who don't have hot water for showers and who have clothes that don't fit and are always dirty. There are kids who have been "camping" for the last week, and I honestly don't think its for a family vacation. There are kids whose only meal is the breakfast and lunch they eat at school. There are kids who have no mother, father, grandparent, or any other adult that loves them. They don't know what it's like to light up someone's life, like my son does. There are kids who practically live in a dysfunctional war zone. Their perspective is that next Friday marks the last meal they might eat for 2 months. Next Friday might be the last time they shower until fall because they do it at school. Next Friday might be the last time any adult says anything positive to them. Next Friday might be the last time they see someone care for them. Next Friday means that for 2 months they are always in the middle of fights, or drugs, or goodness even knows what. And that changes my perspective for sure. The only thing I think I can take from that is that everyone should count every blessing that is handed to you. Be thankful for every little thing in life, even when things seem all wrong. Because the only person that can change your perspective is you. This, along with planting your own seeds of kindness, can only bring you happiness and bliss.

hhmm...

Something tells me this could be a problem....

(If you are offended by the dust that is streaked with the fingerprints of an almost 3 year old, then I'd be happy to let you come clean my house! But just for record, until I saw this picture, I didn't realize it was dusty...)

I'm confused

I would like to take this opportunity to publicly declare my support for the theory that instead of global warming, we are actually heading into an ice age. Here is it May 10th, and the high was 55. Little did I know that the 55 was at 6 a.m. By noon, the weather station at school (a WeatherBug station is on our building) was proclaiming 44 degrees with a windchill of 38. It rained all day long, and not just drizzle. It was raining hard enough for me to hear it in my classroom, which is on the first floor of a two story building. That's impressive rain power. The wind was gusting no less than 800 mph and while walking to the car after school, my umbrella did what I've referred to as "the Mary Poppins" since I was a child. (In case you aren't familiar, "the Mary Poppins" is when an umbrella turns itself inside out. It's what happened to the mean nannies, right before the wind blew in Mary.) I wore a sweater to work today (which I had to get out of summer storage, no less), and was cold even with my heater cranked up. I've been sitting under a fleece blanket for the last hour and I'm still cold. I just broke down and turned on our "fireplace" in the living room. I am not at all ready for the 90 degree summer days, but I'd pretty much gotten it in my head that I was through with winter until next year. I don't adapt well to unexpected change, so this just really isn't going to work for me. Oh well...guess I'll just go make me a cup of hot tea. Iced tea just doesn't have quite the same effect today.

Something's different...

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there! My wonderful husband and son gave me a new version of Photoshop Elements for Mother's Day, and I've been playing with it most of the afternoon. I made the blog header. I was pretty proud. I've also made a background. Unfortunately, I've been trying to get it show up for about an hour and I'm losing my patience with it. (Great, there goes the benefits of that 30 minutes of Wii Fit yoga...) So, you are stuck with an incredibly boring white background until I can make it work. Which might be never. Who knows?

I also played around and made two different images with my new program.

Here is the original picture.

Then I used the tutorial on Pioneer Woman to practice some edits.

I was proud of myself. :)

I loved this original picture, but I wanted to play with my new toy some more!

I'm not sure what I'm more proud of...the coloring change, or the fact that I edited out that bug.

(I bet you're trying to figure out what bug I'm talking about. Keep looking...it's there!)

I've had a great day playing with my new software. Hopefully, I'll figure out this background thing so you won't be looking at boring white forever!

This just in...

For anyone who might be wondering, I am apparently a right front tire's worst nightmare. You may think I'm being a teensy bit melodramatic and exaggerating a slight bit. Trust me, I am not. Allow me to prove my case.

Let me take you back to the summer of 2003. I remember it well, as that was bad hair year 2003 (take my word for it, the Meg Ryan look is not attractive on the likes of me). I was home from college for the summer, working as an office runner at my mom's office and taking some classes at the local college. Luckily 2 of them were online so that cut down on my actually having to go to class and pretend to listen for several hours a week. (I won't discuss the 1 class I did have to attend, especially since it may have resulted in the lowest grade I ever earned throughout the course of my education. And by education, I mean since kindergarten. But seriously though, why the heck does a 5th grade special ed teacher need to take economics? I'm pretty sure I understand that when the economy is bad, I get less money to buy pencils and erasers. No, I had to waste time and money on a class that was absolutely pointless. But I'm not discussing it...) One of the online classes was geography and for a portion of our grade, we had to complete several maps of various geographic regions in the world, and by complete I mean color. Like with colored pencils. Like I do in my 5th grade classroom. But whatever, it was easy.

Unfortunately, the world, or I should say I, wasn't as technologically advanced in 2003 as I obviously am in 2010, so I had to physically take the maps to the instructor since there was no way to teleport them to his office. (No! The horror! A personal, face to face contact?? Dreadful...) Now, I mentioned that I was working at my mom's office. The office was a fair distance from our house and since we were both going to work at the same time, and coming home at the same time, there was no sense in driving separately. So I would often ride with her to work and home. I had my latest series of maps completed flawlessly, so I was planning on taking the car over lunch and turning them in. Lunchtime arrived, I jumped in my mom's gold Cadillac and set out for the college. As I approached the school, perhaps 4 or 5 blocks away, tragedy struck. There was something in the gutter area of the street that blew the right front tire, which caused the entire car to lurch toward the curb. This unfortunate lurch rammed the tire rim into the curb, which pretty much bent it all to hell, which in turn, continued to shred the tire. Expletives flew from my mouth and I quickly turned onto a side street.

Now, I'm sure you're all thinking, it's 2003 in this story. Just pick up that handy dandy cell phone everyone seems to always have plastered to their ear and call for help. Well, I did have a cell phone. I had a delightful plan with my then fiance, now husband, with T-Mobile. Unfortunately, because it was 2003 and T-Mobile hadn't yet tapped into the Catherine Zeta Jones sales pitch, there was no T-Mobile service in that entire town. We had discovered that towards downtown you could pick up some service, so I got out of the now defunct Cadillac and started walking around with my phone in the air like every cell phone commercial of the time depicted when proving their service was superior. I finally was able to reach my brother, who then reached my dad, who then came to my rescue. Of course, I felt terrible that I mutilated my mom's car like that, but my parents were pretty forgiving after a short amount of time. Plus, I got my maps turned in, and I believe I got an A in that class.

Fast forward to the spring of 2007. We bought our car in August of 2006, so you can see it was not very old, which makes this story even more painful. I was 5 months pregnant and it was a Saturday afternoon. I was heading to town to meet some co-workers for a trip to the nearest Chili's for dinner. As I came into town, I ran to the ATM. I collected my cash and drove to the exit. I was easing out into traffic when my car dropped into the biggest damn pothole I've ever seen. Unfortunately, I hadn't seen it until after I felt the bottom of my car reach China. (I blame my poor eyesight) I drove a little ways with that "Oh, I hope no one saw that...." look on my face, and pulled off into a parking lot. I waddled out to look, but didn't see any visible damage to the tire. I shrugged my shoulders to no one in particular, got in the car, and kept on my way. I then decided I wouldn't be able to make it to the nearest Chili's (45 minutes, by the way) without an ice cold fountain Coke, so I pulled into the gas station. I went in, filled my cup, paid my cash and walked out. When I walked out, there was a very nice man standing by my car who kindly asked me if I knew that I had a flat tire. My right front tire. I laughed as tears began to form and kindly informed him that I wasn't surprised as I just hit a huge pothole. I tried to call my husband, but he was working nights at the time, so he was asleep and didn't answer. So I had to call my father in law. Luckily, he came right up (this town is very small, you can get anywhere in about 5 minutes, thank goodness) and he changed the tire for me, cussing the Germans the entire time. (I drive a Volkswagen and apparently their bolts and things are slightly different than anything he'd seen, so it was a tad bit frustrating.) In the meantime, my hubby calls me frantically because the people I'm meeting have been calling the house repeatedly wondering where I am, which of course leads him to automatically believe I'm lying dead in a ditch somewhere, which I guess might not be far from the truth considering the circumstances. I assure him I'm fine, the tire is almost finished being changed, and soon I am on my way to a delicious meal of Chili's chicken strips. (Trust me on this, they are scrumptious.)

This brings us to the present. Tonight, I went into town to run an errand. I was minding my own business, driving calmly and concentrating on the road when out of nowhere, another giant pothole jumped out in front of me. (At least that's what I'll swear in court!) The tire didn't blow up or go flat, but there is a baseball size knot sticking out the side of it, so that can't be good. I had to hitch a ride back home with my father in law (he's like the Lone Ranger or something) and tomorrow my husband will be dealing with the aftermath of yet another issue between me and the right front tire. I guess you could say one thing about me. At least I'm consistent!

I know how that feels

I love musicals and I'm not ashamed to admit it. For as long as I can remember, my family always went and watched the high school productions that my mother choreographed and I even got the opportunity to play "second townsgirl" or "small orphan" in a couple. I participated in local theater and high school theater as I grew up and I enjoyed every minute of it. Now I take every chance I can get to watch live theater. This summer will be the second year we have season tickets to the Starlight in KC, which if you ever get the chance to do, I would suggest. It's so great to be outside on beautiful summer nights watching shows, while getting to do some taboo theater things, like drinking a coke or even a beer, and enjoying some cotton candy and popcorn during the show. But I digress...

Anyway, I love musicals. So, I was delighted to hear that the high school was coming to the middle school to perform a few songs from the musical they are performing next week. I've never seen "Bye Bye Birdie" but it seemed pretty cute. The kids looked like they were having fun and it was good to see some kids excelling in an area that you never would have imagined for them. However, when not one, not two, but three different times people lost their place and forgot their words, I knew instantly how they felt. My heart sank for them and I wished I knew the words so I could jump up and save them.

9 years ago, I was cast as Ado Annie in Oklahoma. I was 18, almost at the end of my senior year, and seriously, my life's ambition in theater was to play Ado Annie. It was so much fun, and with the exception of my time as Lucy in You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown, it was the most fun I've had in a part. I worked so hard, and since I'm a perfectionist, I just had to be perfect. Before the actual show dates, we did a few daytime runs in which the local elementary schools and private schools would attend. Right before I went on for my first scene and song, one of the crew told me that Laurie didn't take her prop money for the next scene and that I needed to give it to her. On stage. Before I sang. Without the audience seeing. What???? Ok, fine. I made my entrance and when I tried to slip her the money, she gave me a look like "I already have this, get out of my face." (She was a very sweet girl, so don't think I'm being rude. She was just prepared with her props and the crew member was wrong.) Right then, my music started and I was so flustered that I missed an entire verse. My heart started pounding so hard I thought they could hear it over the music. My hands starting sweating so much I nearly dropped my basket. I know my face turned bright red under the lights, and if I hadn't had on a high necked dress, you probably would have seen my splotchy red chest. I could have died right there in front of a bunch of 3rd graders. I glanced frantically at the music man who was mouthing the words to me. I eventually got back on track, but I never forgot the humiliation I felt that I had messed up so badly. So when I witnessed it 3 times in the gym of the middle school, I knew just how they felt. I only hope they don't obsess about things like I do, and that they can move on with their lives. Apparently, I could use that advice, too.

No one to blame but myself

We have had an exceptionally cold and snowy winter in my corner of the world. I may have mentioned that a time or two..not sure. Anyway, there has literally been snow on the ground since the beginning of December. However, good fortune smiled upon us this week and we had temperatures in the 50s (albeit low 50s, but 50s nonetheless!) on Monday and Tuesday. It was heaven. For those two days, the temperatures and the on again/off again rain helped to wash away a great deal of the snow. By Wednesday, the only snow left were the huge piles in parking lots and ditches left over from all the snow plows all winter, and even those were starting to grow smaller. I was so pleased with the 2 days in the 50s and the quickly increasing lack of snow, that I decided to chance it by wearing my beloved flip flops on Wednesday. The weather woman (I'm not being uber feminist here, she is a woman and she does the weather. I'm simply giving you details.) promised 55 degrees and I decided to take the opportunity to air out my winter piggies. Of course, in typical fashion for me, it did not get past 44. But I really want spring so I didn't even mind. It was a wonderful day and I couldn't wait for even warmer weather so I can permanently shed my socks until fall.

Last night, we had some pretty heavy rain showers, which I love because I sleep so well with the rain on the roof. When I woke up, I peeked out the window on the stairs on my way to the coffee pot. There were 2 reasons for this: 1. I wanted to see if it was still raining. (It was.) and 2. I wanted to bask in the glory that through the window I could see absolutely no snow. I made coffee and & went on about my getting ready business.

As I came down the stairs a mere 45 minutes later to leave for school, movement outside that same window caught my eye. I slowly raised my hand to the window to peek through the blinds, terrified that I was about to see something I didn't want to see. As I separated the slats, my worst fear was confirmed. It was snowing. And I don't mean a flurry. I mean big, fat, wet, and sticking snowflakes. The car has at least an inch on it and where 45 minutes earlier had been muddy and barren ground was now fully covered in a fresh blanket of snow. That is when I realized that it was all my fault. If I had only been patient and kept my flip flops safely in the closet just a little bit longer, maybe the weather gods would not have seen fit to punish me with more winter weather. I only feel bad because my thoughtlessness is taking the whole town down with me. So, here's to hoping that the farmer's almanac is wrong and there won't be a March blizzard-and that the sands of time will fall quickly to warmer days.