Remember the Victims, Not the Violators

Yesterday, the world witnessed yet another senseless act of violence in the mass shooting carried out at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut.  I first began to see the news on the event while I was working at the public middle school where I am employed, and when I came home later yesterday evening, I found myself unable to watch the details unfold on the nightly news.  It wasn't only that I didn't want my own young son to hear the words "children dead" or "teachers killed" spoken repeatedly on the broadcast—although that was certainly a factor—I just could watch the video clips being shown over and over with both moving and still images of children running away from their school, crying and terrified, or parents being tearfully reunited with surviving children or being comforted upon discovery that their children had not been spared.  It is terrible.  It is heartbreaking.  It is horrific.  And I cannot begin to imagine the devastation of that community.

Unfortunately, these types of incidents continue.  I don't know what the solution is.  Is it more gun control?  More investment in identifying and treating mentally unstable people?  Arming school faculties?  More security at schools?  More religion?  Less press coverage?  All of these have been bandied about on the news after each terrible act of violence carried out against innocent people over the last several decades.  But to tell the truth, I don't know, and I don't profess to have the answers.  I don't think that I can find a perfect solution for senselessness.

The American Way

Yeah, I know, it's too early for Halloween pics already.  What can I say?  I adore this child, and when we tried on his costume tonight, I just couldn't resist.  Besides, it's not like my blog readers are going to get to see him live and in person on Halloween night...

♥

Accepting Un-Pretty

I spent most of my childhood being teased mercilessly by my peers, both at school and at church.  I have always been the fat, freckle-faced, redheaded, unpopular kid.  I didn't play sports.  I didn't have any particularly enviable talents  I didn't come from a "rich" family.  I rarely ever had more than one or two "friends" at any given time.  It didn't take me long to understand that I have never fit into the mold of what common society considers to be physically beautiful.  I probably understood this fact by the time I had finished elementary school—although acceptance of this fact would come much, much later.

As I grew into adulthood, I learned that it didn't really matter that I'm not beautiful.  I'm smart, I'm funny, I'm passionate, and I'm a hard worker.  I have learned that I don't need a hundred "best" friends, and I'm honestly much happier with a smaller, closer circle of genuine friends.  I have learned that who I am is good enough, and that I'm worthy of love and friendship and respect.  I've learned that I don't need to be beautiful, and I've come to realize that I'm not sure I'd even want the pressure that would come attached to maintaining a beautiful me.

Working around middle schoolers, these past several years, has given me the opportunity to develop an entirely different perspective on being "un-pretty" by watching it unfold through the eyes of my students.  While it's not something I point out to them, I have students who do not fit into the "beautiful" category.  Some of them may never fit into that category, and there's really nothing that they can do about it.  While the "un-pretty" seems to afflict both male and female students, it is the girls I worry about the most.

The problem I see is this:

When a girl goes crying to her friends, parents, or teachers, telling them that she has been harassed or bullied by someone who said she was "ugly" or "fat" or some other such derogatory term, it is almost always handled wrongly.  The first reaction or these friends and parents and teachers is to comfort the girl—and rightly so—and then to say something like "Just ignore them.  You're beautiful no matter what they say."

An Updated Review of Malena's Mini School

In January of 2012, I was on the hunt for a new daycare facility for Kaleb and ended up deciding to enroll him into Malena's Mini School at their location on Pine Forest Road.

Although he had just turned 3 earlier that same month, he was placed into the "older 2s" class because Malena's promotes on the same schedule as the public school system and his birthday hadn't happened before the cut-off.  At the time, I was a little disappointed about that, since he was already fully potty trained.  Little did I know then that the "older 2s" class would be the highest level we would be happy with at Malena's.

At the beginning of June, the week after the public schools let out for the summer, Kaleb was promoted to the 3-year-olds class.  Since he was already fully potty trained, he wouldn't have to wait until the end of the summer for his promotion.  It was really great for the first week or so, but the newness wore off quickly.

While I am a very strong proponent of young children taking naps—Kaleb still takes one every afternoon, no matter what—I am no where near as rigid on this point as Malena (the owner) is.  She serves the children lunch at sometime between 11a.m. and noon, and then expects them to lie down immediately for a 2-hour-minimum mandatory nap.  Even though a 2-hour nap would be no problem at all for Kaleb at home in his own bed, the early time coupled with the distraction of being in a room full of friends made it very difficult for Kaleb to accomplish this napping requirement.

He began coming home with bad daily reports almost every day, and most every comment was centered around Kaleb not being compliant with the napping law.  To make matters worse, Malena herself told me that she was making that class' nap times, and my child in particular, her personal mission.  Her stern attitude made me feel as if I were in the principal's office all the time.

New Discoveries in an Old Routine

As I begin this post, it's 11:20p.m. on Tuesday evening, and I already know that I'll be dragging when the alarm clock starts buzzing in the morning.  But, I've had some thoughts circling my mind in a never-ending loop the last few days, and I need to get them out, so here I sit, on the couch, blogging when I should be already asleep.  Alas.

About 6 weeks ago, Kaleb was diagnosed with ADHD by his pediatrician and began taking a daily dose of Adderall to aid him in regaining control of himself.  To say the least, it feels as if our lives have been transformed.  It took a bit of trial and error to settle upon the correct dosage for Kaleb—just enough to get the job done, but not enough to turn him into a pre-school zombie—but when the right dosage was tested, it was like a magic spell!  He's not a perfect kid, and we still aggravate one another immeasurably sometimes (he's 3 years old, and we are both redheads), but pretty much everything has improved by the introduction of this little pill into our morning routines.

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Many people who know me already know that Kaleb began Pre-K 3 at Escambia Christian School yesterday (Monday) on the first day of the 2012-2013 school year.  It wasn't something I had really prepared for, and was arranged on relatively short notice—the reasons behind our withdrawal from Malena's Mini School will be the topic of another post.

Privilege, Entitlement, & Pushy Parents

Today three intelligent, strong women (myself included) were defeated by one of "those" moms.  We had been resolved to a decision we had all but made final, and this one pushy mom managed to shove her way in and override us all.  You know the type: pushy, stuck up, and used to getting their way.....the kind who believe that everyone they meet is there purely to meet their needs and fulfill their every desire.  They're the types of moms who raise children who think they're better than everyone else.  They're the types of moms who believe that their children, though no virtue of their own, are better than everyone else's kids and deserve to be catered to.  They're the moms who want what they want, expect everyone to give it to them, and don't particularly care what sorts of hardships they create for the people who must cater to their whims.

I absolutely loathe moms (and dads) like this, and while I can paste on a smile and force myself to be civil toward them, they will never never never earn any genuine respect or admiration from me.

Working in a public middle school, it is extraordinarily easy to spot the glaring disparities between the haves, the have-nots, and the have-nothings among our student body.

The haves are usually the children of these pushy, privileged parents who raise their children to be sniveling, pampered, stuck-up brats.  They have name brand clothes, perfect acne-free faces (courtesy of high-priced dermatologists), and they win every form of popularity contest—prom queen, homecoming queen, student body president, etc.  These kids rule the school, lording over their peers with jewelry-clad fists and holding court in the hallways, bathrooms, and cafeteria where they are attended to by those on the outer fringes of their kind....the almost-haves.  The haves may not be the best or the brightest at anything, but their high-priced tutors and delusional parents ensure that their kids receive unwarranted recognition for even the most mundane and average accomplishments.

Review: Crayola Color Bath Dropz

On Sunday, Kaleb received a basket filled with new toys and other fun things (and a very little bit of candy).  One of the items the "Easter Bunny" included in his basket this year was a jar of Crayola Color Bath Dropz.  I was a little worried that they would leave some permanent color on our tub or towels—or the kid—but after 2 nights of use, I'm happy to report that they seem to have no negative effects!

Our Color Bath Dropz came with three colors of tablets: RED, YELLOW, & BLUE.  Here's what Crayola has to say about their product:

"The Crayola Bath product line brings the color, fun, creativity and imagination of the Crayola brand to bath time. Crayola Bath Dropz are fizzing water color tablets that turn ordinary bath water into colorful, fizzy water. This jar makes up to 30 baths! Mix and match the tints to create all the colors of the rainbow."

Sunday night, Kaleb wanted a RED bath.  We used one red tablet under the running faucet, and within minutes, the tub looked as if a gruesome homicide had taken place there.  But when bath time was finished and we drained all the water from the tub, there appeared to be no color left on anything.  Kaleb, the tub, and all his bath toys were unaffected by the color, as was his bath towel once we had him all dried off.

Tonight, we tested out mixing our primary colors.  We mixed one YELLOW tablet and one BLUE tablet and the result was a bath tub full of very GREEN water.  Kaleb played with his toy boats for at least a half hour before it was time to get out and head to bed.  Once again, when the water had been drained, there was none of the color left anyplace.

Overall, I'd say these are a simple and affordable way to add some fun to your kids' bath!

P52, Somewhat: Week 15, "Tradition"

I grew up in a family with traditions.  We knew, more or less, what to expect at every major holiday, and it was nice to know what was coming.  Now that I'm a parent myself, I want Kaleb to benefit from these same types of traditions.  But the pressures of wanting him to have the perfect Rockwellian holidays, as I remember having in my own childhood.

What I have discovered is this: I probably actually never had a holiday that went perfectly according to my parents' plans.  My family holidays with Kaleb will probably never go perfectly either.  And that's ok.  Just as I never had any sense of things going wrong as a kid, Kaleb probably won't either.  In fact, the most important tradition is to simply spend time with Kaleb and do things to make his holidays special and memorable, just as my parents did for my brother and me when we were kids.

This year, for the first time, Kaleb and I dyed eggs.  Assuming I already had all the supplies we'd need, I didn't bother to read the directions of the egg dying kid my dad had given us.  I bought some eggs, and hard boiled 20 of them.  18 of them survived the boiling without cracking, and they were set aside to be colored.  On the day we were to dye the eggs, however, I realized we had no vinegar to add to the dye water to help the color adhere to the egg shells.  A quick glance around Google hinted that I might be able to use lemon juice instead, and I decided it would just have to work.  Kaleb and I spent some time dying the eggs, six at a time in three rounds.  They came out with plenty of imperfections, not at all what I had hoped for my first attempt at sharing this activity with Kaleb.  But you know what?  He didn't notice those imperfections at all!  He was overjoyed to be able to help, to get to participate in something new and fun.  When it was all finished, I couldn't pry Kaleb out of the kitchen.  He actually wanted to stand atop his stool and watch the eggs drying on the counter.

My Boys

It's not at all unusual for me to see a few raised eyebrows when I make reference to "my sons" or "my boys."  Most people know that I'm a single mom with a little boy, but those plural nouns often throw people for a loop.  However, even when I was pregnant with Kaleb, I already had one fuzzy child—my big orange cat, Morris.

In 2002, I was married and living in PPV military housing in a little town in Northern San Diego County called Ramona, California.  One day while I was home alone, there was an unexpected knock at the door.  I opened the door, and there stood a sleep-deprived Navy wife with a Radio Flyer wagon containing a basket of mewling orange furballs and several dozen cans of kitten formula.  She told me that her cat had had these kittens and had taken off and not returned.  She had been trying to take care of all 6 kittens herself, but was finding it impossible to keep up with them and her own children.  She was looking for families to adopt the kittens.  I had always wanted an orange cat—it seemed a redheaded woman should have one—so I agreed to take one.  We already had 3 cats, and I knew my then-husband would be none too happy when he came home....but he was rarely very happy anyway.

What'll I Tell My Son About Tattoos?

I've lost count of how many times people, upon learning that I am a single mother, have asked me "how on earth" I'm going to explain tattoos to my son.  Frankly, I don't see what the big deal is.  Granted, I'm usually asked this by someone who remembers the way-back-whens when tattoos were only something worn by sailors and hookers (or, more recently, by bikers and hippies), but seriously....it's 2012, people!

I realize that single moms are far more common these days than they were just a couple of generations ago.  Divorce rates have grown exponentially and the rate of children born to unwed mothers—like myself—has risen as well.  But let's face it: even back in the "good old days," parenting has never been an easy undertaking.  Throughout history, parents have always been faced with the decision of how to raise their children, what lessons to teach, and what morals to instill into their offspring.  My case is no different.

Yes, I have tattoos.  They are visible.  And Kaleb knows that I have them.  However, until very recently, I only had tattoos that had been on my body longer than I had been a mother.  Now, however, I have fresh ink at a time when Kaleb is old enough to be aware of it and curious about them.  The one on my forearm, especially, has gotten a lot of attention.

Today, Kaleb asked me if he could have a tattoo, too, "like Mommy's tattoo."  We had a talk about tattoos—yes, my 3-year-old and I—and how they become a part of you forever.  I explained to him that real tattoos are something only for grown-ups, because they are an important decision and because you have to be old enough to take good care of them.  [For the record, I have this exact same opinion on piercings.]

Incredible Imagination Meets Developing Motor Skills

In case I haven't said it often enough over the past week or so, let me tell you now: my kid is really, really amazing.  Sure, I know most parents say that about their children.  But you know what?  We're actually all correct!

Children are the most amazing little people, always changing and developing and gaining new skills.  It's one of the most fascinating things in the world, especially with young children who are changing with every blink of the eye.

Last night, while I was preparing our supper, Kaleb called out to me to "Come look, Mommy!"  I walked into the living room, and Kaleb was standing there, beaming from ear to ear, holding the Lego creation shown in the picture to the left.  Only half paying attention—I know, it's terrible, but we're all guilty of this from time to time—I said "Oh, neat," and turned to go back to the kitchen to continue working on our supper.

Kaleb, however, was completely dissatisfied with my response (and, honestly, he was totally justified to feel that way).  He said, "Wait, Mommy!  Take my picture!  Take a picture of my Legos!"

Now, I should say here that I fully believe that there must be some little bit of human DNA—yet unidentified, of course—that passes down the outgoing nature of a parent to their child.  My brother and I got it from our parents, along with the "performance" gene, and Kaleb has apparently gotten it from me.  He wants to be noticed when he has done something worthy of note, and he will not give up until he has the recognition he feels he has earned.

Recapturing a Piece of My Childhood

One of the best things about becoming a parent is that you have a valid excuse for having toys around the house.  I mean, sure, some of us have held onto some childhood toys even though we were not yet parents, but it might still have been a nit awkward to have a friend pop by for a visit and find us having a teddy bear tea party in our adult dining rooms while we were yet single or childless.

Now that I'm a parent, I get the added bonus of having a legitimate reason to play like a kid: it's good for my son!  Yes, that's right....not only do I get to have fun with his toys, but it also benefits his development for me to get down on the floor and play toys with him.  What an amazingly wonderful concept!

When I was a child, two of my favorite activities were coloring with my crayons and building with Legos.  And these are still activities I'll readily admit that I enjoy as an adult.  At this age, Kaleb has the larger Duplo-style Legos, and I am so excited for the time when he gets old enough to have bucketfuls of the standard-sized Lego bricks.  Right now, our favorite activity to do together is to color.  I have a large set of Crayola crayons, and Kaleb has a box of larger preschool-sized Crayolas of his very own.  We each also have our own coloring books—his Mickey Mouse & friends, mine Strawberry Shortcake—so that we can lie side-by-side on the floor and color together.  He may not have the motor skills for fine art yet, but he's improving at the same time he is learning by watching me.

Being a parent may have its ups and downs, but getting to play with an adorable little boy whenever I want is definitely one of the ups!

Kaleb's Jobs

No matter what I do, Kaleb is growing up.  He has learned to identify colors, count objects, and sing numerous songs.  His vocabulary continues to grow, and he is getting better and better at communicating with those around him.  He's also developing his own opinions and learning how to express them.  As a preschooler, many of his opinions are expressed through defiance, so I'm constantly looking for new ways to inspire Kaleb to do the right things: follow directions and follow the rules.

And I'm trying to accomplish this with as few tears (his or my own) as possible.  When several of the incentives I had offered weren't working, I started looking for a new strategy.  What I have ended up doing is actually recycling a tactic I used last summer when Kaleb was potty training: a sticker poster.  It's so simple, yet so effective.

During potty training, Kaleb would get to stick a sticker onto the poster on the bathroom door.  He was always so proud and excited to add a new sticker to the poster.  Last week, I created a new poster which is now hanging on the wall in Kaleb's bedroom.  It's a little more involved than the Potty Poster, but it also covers more jobs and is divided into one-week columns—enough columns to last us until school starts back next Fall.

Each job is labeled in words, for me, as well as pictures that Kaleb can interpret on his own.  They are lines up on the poster, from top to bottom, in chronological order as they occur during the day.  Most are jobs he will do every day, while a couple are jobs that occur less often.

So, what are Kaleb's Jobs?

Alert: Childrens' Consignment Sale Pensacola (April)

I found out that there is another childrens' consignment sale happening in a few weeks.  Unlike the March sales I posted about several weeks ago, this is a sale I had never heard of before, and so cannot verify the quality of this sale.  I think I already have all the clothes Kaleb will need this season, but he and I will probably go check out the sale anyway so I'll know if it's one I want to attend next year.

For those of you who weren't able to get what you needed at the last sales, or those who didn't attend them, check out the flyer below for the upcoming April sale!

If you need more information than what's on the flyer, check out

http://www.tinytotsandpolkadots.net

Why I'm Not A Christian

Several weeks ago, I wrote and published on this blog a post entitled "A Darn Good Christian," wherein I mentioned that a co-worker had told me I'd make a "darn good" Christian....if I only believed in God.  I went on to explain that I didn't need the Bible or church or any other religious trappings to see a need in the world and try to do my part to fill that need for the benefit of my fellow earth-dwelling creatures.  Christians do not have a monopoly on good works.  Within that post, I did not get into the reasons behind my non-belief, stating that they were fodder for another post.  This is that post.

Before I get into my specific reasons, there are a few things I feel I must state first if I have any hope of my words being understood in the manner intended.

1. I probably know more Christians than non-Christians.  Most of these people are my friends and are good people, and I respect their choice to believe as they wish, not because I think they are right, but because they are my friends and I care about them.  Those who are my friends and already know about my lack of Christian faith may not agree with the choices I make in this regard, but they all acknowledge my rights to believe as I choose, and they care about me regardless of our differing opinions.
2. I do not believe that Christianity itself is bad.  You'll understand more of what I mean by this as you read through the post.
3. As with all my blog posts, the comment section is open for your feedback.  However, remember to be civil with your comments.  Hate-filled comments will be deleted.  Strongly emotional comments, those aimed at "converting" me, or those filled with scripture are probably not comments to which I will post reply....unless you actually come up with a compelling argument.  One more thing: If you feel the need to post harsh criticism, at least have the courage to attach your name to it....I've grown weary of people hiding behind the "anonymous" label when spewing negativity.

With that out of the way, I'll put forth the primary 9 among the many reasons that Christianity has found no place in my life.

P52, Somewhat: Week 11, "Nostalgia"

This week's P52 post topic was "Nostalgia."  I could think of plenty of things to write about, but they were all either quite mundane or were memories I like to keep to myself.  Then I was looking through some storage boxes, came across one very small item, and was stricken with a bout of nostalgia.  So I snapped a photo of that memory-inducing item, and here it is:

"Tiny Memories" photo by Sarah Getz for P52 Photo-A-Week Challenge, 3-12-2012

Just three short years ago, Kaleb's little feet were shorter than my fingers.  While I can't honestly say that I miss having a newborn baby, I can't help but look back fondly at where we've been.

Those Fleeting Angelic Moments

Kaleb was sleeping particularly soundly through a nap a couple of days ago.  In fact, he slept so long I decided I'd have to wake him up if I was to have any hope of him going back to sleep that night.  Normally, Kaleb is a light sleeper and wakes up the moment I open his bedroom door.  This day, he slept through me sneaking into his room.  So, I sneaked back out, grabbed my camera, and tip-toed back in to snap a pic of Kaleb at his most angelic: sound asleep.  I can't imagine any parent being able to catch sight of their sleeping children without falling in love all over again.

I Can't Do This!

When faced with a difficult task, it can sometimes be so much easier to just say, "I can't do this," and let someone else do it for us.

I notice Kaleb does this all the time.  Just tonight, he had trouble reaching the light switch in the bathroom and said, "Mommy, I can't reach it."  A short while later he was trying to open the plastic case that contains his play set of doctor's tools.  When the case's latches got stuck, he said, "Mommy, I can't open this!"  The difficulty he encountered trying to put a book back onto his slightly-overcrowded book shelf caused him to exclaim,"Mommy, this book don't fit on here!" Finally, as Kaleb's bedtime drew near, I told him to go take off his clothes in preparation for bath time.  He was wearing new pants today, and the buttonhole is still a little tight.  He called out to me, "Mommy, I can't unbutton my pants!"

And in our house, this is a very typical evening.  Whenever Kaleb runs into trouble trying to do something on his own, his first reaction is to call in Mommy for help, to do it for him.

As children, we learn to depend on the grown-ups in our lives to take care of us and provide for us.  That trust and reliance is an important aspect of the parent/child relationship.  While we grow up, those grown-ups begin to teach us the skills necessary to grow up to be self-reliant.  And then the cycle begins again once we are adults, and begin to pass along these skills of self-reliance to the children in our lives.  This cycle has been repeating for millenia throughout the animal kingdom, and is not unique to we human creatures.  What is more unique to humans (and some other primates), however, is this desire to proclaim we "can't" and have someone else handle things for us.

So, did I turn on the bathroom light for Kaleb tonight?  Or open the case of toys?  Or put his book back onto the shelf?  Or unbutton his pants?

P52, Somewhat: Week 10, FREE WEEK

Several dates over the course of this P52 Photo-A-Week challenge have been left as unassigned free weeks.  This is one of those weeks, and I decided to use it to take a photo that would illustrate an ideal evening at home for me.  So when the perfect night came along, and after Kaleb was tucked into his bed, I snapped a few quick shots the remnants of our quiet evening activities.

Lately, Kaleb and I spend a lot of our evenings together doing quiet activities that exercise Kaleb's developing motor skills.  This particular night, we spent out time on the floor of the living room coloring in some brand new coloring books with crayons and stringing beads onto shoelaces.  Kaleb likes pretty much any activity we do together, but these are some of his current favorites.

"Beads on Strings & Coloring Things" photo by Sarah R. Getz for P52 Photo-A-Week challenge.

Alert: Consignment Sales for Children in Pensacola (Spring/Summer)

If you're a parent, you're probably well acquainted with the expenses involved in keeping growing children in clothes that fit them. Over time, these expenses can get to be difficult to keep up with. Some are lucky families can hand down clothes from older cousins or siblings, but not everyone has this option available.

So, for those without hand-me-downs, many organizations have events where parents can get together and consign or purchase used-but-still-usable clothing for children of all ages and pregnant women. Pensacola has two organizations that do this on a grand scale, and both are gearing up for their Spring/Summer sales, scheduled within the next couple of weeks.

I have gotten copies of the Spring/Summer sale flyers for both of these upcoming sales and have posted them below for any readers in or near Pensacola that might want to come and take advantage of these great opportunities to stock up on some warm-weather clothes for the children in your lives.

Both sales are primarily clothing, but they each also have an impressive selection of kids' toys, gear, furniture, and other necessities. It is certainly worth it to go and have a look! The majority of all the clothes Kaleb has ever worn have come from sales at one or the other of these organizations.