Really...that is not a picture of me pole dancing!

Now that I have your attention. I received this e-mail from my daughter's kindergarten teacher today. It is, as she says, "priceless".


A first grade girl handed in the drawing below for her homework assignment.



The teacher graded it and the child brought it home.

She returned to school the next day with the following note:

Dear Ms. Davis,
I want to be perfectly clear on my child's homework illustration.
It is NOT of me on a dance pole on a stage in a strip joint surrounded by male customers with money.
I work at Home Depot and had commented to my daughter how much money we made in the recent snowstorm.
This drawing is of me . . . selling a shovel!!!!!

Sincerely,
Mrs. Harrington

When the going gets tough...

the tough want to curl up on the couch and stay home. But we can't. I have just had a few very long days or maybe weeks. As I was reading one of my favorite blogs today, I came across this poem. It is a good one. I found it here.


It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

-Oriah Mountain Dreamer

You say Donut, I say Doughnut

I will go to my deathbed swearing that I do not eat or like doughnuts. However, today, I took my three kids to Krispy Kreme after school (they had gift certificates for free doughnuts). We ended up with four doughnuts (Eden wasn't sure if she wanted a regular glazed doughnut or one with chocolate frosting and sprinkles). She ate the glazed, I ate the one with sprinkles. It was really good.

Just an FYI - I hate doughnuts and do not eat them!

Photoshop Love Affair

Check out this video ...

Dove Evolution

I am not sure where Dove got this video. And I imagine the company responsible is not happy (or maybe they don't care) - but it is striking. You had to know this was being done. What is scary is that I am raising daughters in this environment. And, yes, even though they are only in kindergarten I still hear things like, "Mommy, (name) said my hair was too curly." OR "Do you think my freckles are funny?" It is scary. Not sure we can stop this, but I wish we could.

Bedtime

I love going to bed. Love getting my pajamas on, opening my book (yes, a real book, not an electronic book) and getting into bed - then falling asleep. It is so simple and easy. Why is it so hard for my two five year old daughters to see that.

Tonight this was the drill. After about 5 minutes of really annoying silliness, they finally got their pajamas on. Then the laughing fit started. Well, you know that is trouble, because they sleep in the same room. So there is no stopping that - except when I shove the toothbrushes in their mouths. Then the lotion, Eden was itchy, Clara had a sore throat - dealt with all that. Then, there was the gymnastics trick they learned in P.E. today that I promised them they could show me later. I don't know what they are teaching in P.E. these days to kindergarteners, but I am hopeful it is not what I saw! This trick was Clara scratching Eden's head and calling them a dog name then telling them to sit?! Yikes.

Finally, into bed. Clara no longer wants to be tucked in on both sides (comforter between mattress and boxspring) - it is getting to tight. Rudolph, her new stuffed animal, has to be properly put to bed. Eden now also no longer wants to be tucked in on both sides and her "special" blanket which she absolutely needs, but hasn't seen in months must be found. Okay, good. Good night.

Five minutes later...I am hot, I need chapstick - "hey, that is the kind Chloe has," my pants are bothering me, I have too much stuff in my bed. Finally, I have to threaten them with, "if either of you get out of bed again there will be no friend over on Friday." I hate pulling that card - but it worked! Good night...hopefully.