Nail Polish & Roses

Sometimes, you just need a little pampering with your 'sister from another mister'...I swear, sometimes nail polish will fix what ails ya. Little Miss and I spent the day with my "turtle" sissy, her broken back and her precious 1 year old little girl. It was a total "girlie" day complete with a photo shoot and bubbly pedicures. (Sidenote: nail polish remover will win in a battle against a kitchen table.)

Little Miss loves hanging with younger pals, like little Gracie. So much so, that tonight when we discussed our rose and thorn of our day- she said her rose was spending the day with Gracie...and her thorn? Having to leave Gracie. Is your heart melting? Mine did...my rose instantly became hearing about her rose/thorn!

A few nights ago, I mentioned I'd extended an olive branch to a few special family members my heart has been missing. While I was prepared for any outcome, I received emails and calls from them that were filled with love, thankfulness and excitement. I was a total sap and cried when I read their messages. We all agreed that we could focus on making new memories, remembering happy past ones...and close the chapter (that didn't directly involve us) of negativity.

I would have to say reuniting with family and learning about their current lives, even through calls/emails, was the rose of my week. And my thorn? Well...I can't say I have one.

Family

Family. They can drive you crazy. They can hold you when you cry. They can make you laugh until your sides hurt. They can hurt you- and because they're family, you forgive them.

All families have their issues. They have arguments and go through periods of time where they don't speak. But the thing with family is that nothing will ever change the fact that you are that...you are family. We stand by our family...which can make arguments among family members difficult for innocent bystanders. While we want to stand by and support those in the 'ring'...we want to be able to continue our own bonds, as well.

I decided today that life is too short for rifts, arguments and silence. Before we know it, the chance to call & say "Hey...this is out of hand- let's fix it and make happy memories" will be gone. Reminiscing about past memories together, won't be possible. Sharing those memories with the younger generations will be lost in the shuffle of an argument that grew faster and larger than a crop smothered with miracle grow. An argument that began so long ago...we're all thinking "wait...what is it we're fighting for, again?"

So today...I reached out to family members I haven't spoken to since Little Miss was a wee-one. I put myself in the position to get rejected- to have my olive branch swatted right back at me. I opened my arms (via facebook- it's not just for cyber bullies!) and my heart to my family...because I felt in my heart, it was what I needed to do. For me, selfishly...just for me. Even if the olive brach is swatted away, I won't harbor ill feelings. I will know I did what I needed (for me) to heal my own heart.


But coffee, memory sharing and kids playing in the near-future sure would be nice. ;-)

Bullies

Bullies. Whether we were being bullied or doing the bullying, we all have a memory from our childhood involving a bully.

When Little Miss started preschool, one of the first questions I asked was if she could name the "bully" kid in her classroom. For the first year, she wasn't sure exactly what that meant. Last year, the definition became more clear to her. There was a bully in her classroom who bullied everyone, including the teachers, but not her. Why? I have absolutely no idea. (Maybe he heard she was from Brooklyn? That her daddy is a rapper? That her grandaddy has guns? Who knows.) She would tell me the tales of what the bully had done each day...and would end her story with an I'm glad he's not mean to me! I was too.

Now she's in the "big" school...with lots of bigger kids. I had the same fears that I had when she began preschool regarding bullies. What if someone picks on her? Will she know how to handle it? Will she tell her teacher? Last week, she came home with a bully tale from the playground. Apparently, a little boy came up to Little Miss and her gal-pals and attempted to bully them. I have yet to get the straights out of what said bully did exactly, but supposedly it ended with Little Miss smacking him, knocking him down and her best friend kicking him. The girls were caught by a teacher & reprimanded...until they explained to the teacher they were "handling a bully" situation. The teacher told them, for future reference, calling over a teacher would be the best way to handle a bully situation.
I was proud that Little Miss handled her own against a bully...even if she did handle it to the extreme. (She's her father's daughter...what can I say?)

The scary thing about bullies is that with social media- they now have a voice like never before. No matter what age you are...if you piss someone off- look the wrong way or just simply, aren't friends with this-one or that-one...cyber bullies will be all over you. They'll so bravely write about you from their homes...hiding behind their computers. (Sometimes without even saying your name.) I can laugh at this...because I'm a grown up. But I can absolutely see how so many young teens have been pushed over the edge by cyber bullies. It is SO sad.

Teach your kiddos to be kind...lend a helping hand...smile at their school mates. And I will try to teach mine not to smack the next bully who walks her way...;-)

Arguing

Ask anyone. I can argue until the cows come home. I never tire or weaken my argument...I only grow stronger. I can argue until my opposer tosses their hands in the air in frustration and gives up...then I will consider arguing the point of why it took us so long to realize I'm.Always.Right.

Ask my friends...ask my mom...ask the man at the grocery store who attempted to tell me there was no banana yogurt in the box he was stocking the refrigerated shelves with- I will win. (And I'll win with yogurt!)

That being said...while arguing doesn't typically phase me- arguing with a tiny clone of myself, does. Little Miss doesn't choose her battles...she clearly wants to challenge the man at the grocery store who seems to think her mother is an arguing maniac. She thinks I'm a wimp. She sees my skills and throws fire on them. She will argue over any.thing.

I remember my first argument with my mother. (Well, it may not have been the first argument with her- but it was the first time I realllly pissed her off during an argument.) I want to say I was in first grade...and I believe the argument was over something silly like brushing my teeth.

Silly little argument...mmhmm, you're now rounding the bend to bite me in the arse, eh? I see ya. Oh and Hello, Karma...glad you could join us too.

School mornings begin with sweet cuddles from Little Miss in her bed. We get the clothes down that we've picked out from the night before...and it starts.

"These socks don't match!" Little Miss demands.

"They're pink. You're wearing pink...it matches," I respond.

"It's not the same pink!"

"Well, it coordinates...come on- lets go brush you're hair, monkey."

"I am changing my socks! These look horrible!"

I consider swapping coffee for wine...but know I'll never pull it off.

We argue over the color of the socks back and forth until finally...she decides she will just wear shoes that cover the socks. (While cursing me and calling me color blind in her head, I'm sure.)

In a few short moments, we're out the door and on our way to school. Hugs and kisses commence and before I know it- my little girl is sitting in a classroom full of kindergarteners and I'm? Crying in my truck because we fought over socks. SOCKS.

I argue with myself in my head...I should've just let her change & not argued. But what is that teaching her? That she can spend 30 minutes changing socks in the morning before school to find the perfect color hue to match her shirt? Doesn't that just promote child OCDs? Is that even a thing?

The afternoon rolls around and Little Miss bounds into the truck like a kitten with a ball of yarn. She's thrilled to see me and tell me all about her day. I'm thrilled to hear about every tiny detail. (Even the day she apparently beat up a boy on the playground for being a bully. Thats a post in itself.)

We get home and begin homework. Yes, kindergarteners have homework too...and since Little Miss went to preschool for 3 years- it should be a breeze for her, right?

We begin with a name-writing worksheet. I think it will be a piece of cake because...again, she was in preschool- homegirl can write her name with her eyes closed. But now, she is asked to write the letters a certain way- not just to make them look like letters.

"I can write them however...it looks the same," she tells me.

"Well, your teachers are suggesting we practice doing it this way- so we can-"

"They hate my handwriting! I want to write it my way! The way I have always done it!" she interrupts.

She's slightly more dramatic than I am. She goes from zero to hysterical in less than 2 seconds.

We work with the letter y...since it is in her name. We practice over and over...and finally, she stops arguing, opens her brain and realizes it's not difficult. But you have to try...

So our days in the B home have been a little trying. But we will get through it because clearly...we're fighters. ;-)

The Big K

Today, my little girl...my baby...the one I feel like I just yesterday gave birth to...starts kindergarten.

She is so excited. We met her teacher this week and discussed the business of the big K- which in kindergarten, consists of a lot of eating, snacking then getting home safe. These were my main concerns- what if she can't open her yogurt? will she starve? what if her water bottle top gets screwed on to tight & she can't open it!? WHO WILL HELP HER!?! Seriously, these thoughts were going through my mind.

I felt much better after chatting with her teaching duo. They assured me they'd help her with her lunch and make sure she got to me safely in the afternoon. They also promised that in a few weeks, she'd be able to walk herself into the classroom from the curb. I may or may not have looked at them in absolute horror. By herself?! Walk into the school...alone?! I know there will be other adult teachers and the principal will be standing right there by the big doors but...seriously?!? ALONE!? I felt like I needed to find a paper bag to breathe into.

While I was getting all the business explained to me, Little Miss explored the classroom. By the time I was finished, she was ready to spend the day. This also put my mind at ease. (Something else that puts my mind at ease? Her assistant teacher has known me since I was a wee-one...she babysat me. Love me a small town!!)

Little Miss can't wait to begin her real first day...and I'm excited to hear all about it! :-) Oh, and did I mention her BFF is in her class!? She is. We're super excited about that too!