Happy Mother’s Day to All, and to All a Good Night

Posted on by May 12, 2013
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Mom at 17Mamacita says: I was reading an article somewhere, by somebody*, that stated that no matter how old we get, there are still times when we want our mother. Our fifty-year-old mother.

When our mothers are young, we don’t consider them ‘friends.’ We don’t consider them young, either, because when we’re very young, all adults are old. Heck, our 12-year-old cousins seem like adults.  Our 22-year-old teacher and Grandma: one and the same, age-wise. No, to a child, most adults are old; they’re not sweet young things. They never were; it’s not possible.

Our mother was always a mother.  She had no life before us.  She’s just Mommy, when we’re young, and when she’s young. We don’t even know she was young till we look at old pictures. And then we’re blown away because, “Oh my gosh, look how YOUNG she was there!”

But as we get older, our mothers seem to stay the same, and somehow the years between us don’t matter as much as they used to.

They stay the same, that is, until we take a good long look at them and it hits us that they look old. Not just mom-old, but OLD. Wrinkly. And you know there’s white underneath the Miss Clairol. And they aren’t as sure-footed as they used to be.

This is shocking, but it’s okay, as long as the MOM is still there inside the stranger-every-day body. You know, MOM. The lady who can make magic with a word or a touch? Her? That’s the one.

Good thing WE’LL never get old like that, huh.

I’ve read that when we are in our twenties, the fifty-year-old mother is somehow at her peak of Mom-ness and Friend-ness. Our fifty-year-old mother is an expert in so many things.

What we don’t realize is that our fifty-year-old mother is still missing HER fifty-year-old mother.

And what very few of you know yet, is that your fifty-year-old mother is still as insecure and wondering as she was when she was in her twenties. Your fifty-year-old mother is still beating herself to death over mistakes she made when you were three.

How do I know this? I’d rather not say.

The seventy-year-old mother is still cool. Still Mom. It’s just that the fragility is starting to show, and the mortality thing comes to mind more than we’d like.

The fifty-year-old Mom is the epitome of Momitude. She KNOWS things. We should listen more to our fifty-year-old Mom.

Unless she’s a meddling idiot with outdated stupid ideas and a lot of unwanted advice, of course. You don’t have to listen then.

Chances are, however, that if your fifty-year-old Mom is mean and judgmental and delights in hurting people’s feelings, she was exactly the same when she was in her twenties. Bodies change a lot**. Personalities seldom do.

The following has been making the internet rounds for a long time now, and most of you have no doubt seen it before. However, I’m posting it anyway, because for some reason, it means more to me with each passing year.

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The Images of Mother

4 YEARS OF AGE ~ My Mommy can do anything!

8 YEARS OF AGE ~ My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!

12 YEARS OF AGE ~ My Mother doesn’t really know quite everything.

14 YEARS OF AGE ~ Naturally, Mother doesn’t know that, either.

16 YEARS OF AGE ~ Mother? She’s hopelessly old-fashioned.

18 YEARS OF AGE ~ That old woman? She’s way out of date!

25 YEARS OF AGE ~ Well, she might know a little bit about it.

35 YEARS OF AGE ~ Before we decide, let’s get Mom’s opinion.

45 YEARS OF AGE ~ Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?

65 YEARS OF AGE ~ Wish I could talk it over with Mom.

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Let’s talk things over with Mom while we have the chance.

If your own mommy doesn’t appreciate you, come right on over here. I’m not saying exactly how old this Mommy is, but she’s in her peak and prime of Momitude.  I do, however, screw it up sometimes, even now.  I do my best.  That’s all we can do, in any and every phase.

I have a lot of advice, but I’ll wait till you ask me for it***.

*If I knew the author and the name of the article, I’d have mentioned it up above, silly.
**Unless you’re Jamie Lee Curtis.
***Most of the time.

Teacher Appreciation 101

Posted on by May 3, 2013
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NO. Please, no.

Mamacita says: Every year around this time, I like to re-run this little piece about choosing a gift for your children’s teachers. We really do appreciate anything and everything we receive from our kids and their families, but some things are appreciated a little more than others.

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The school year is winding down;  summer vacation is just around the corner, and It’s time to be thinking about giving your child’s teacher a gift of appreciation.  After all, this dedicated professional has spent more time with other people’s children than their parents have, and deserves some little something to show them you care.  You don’t have to do this, of course; in fact, most families don’t, but if you do, here are some suggestions.

Might I suggest – nay, plead – that you NOT give your child’s teacher a candle, statue, t-shirt, mug, plaque, hankie, seasonal brooch, earrings (unless they’re actual jewelry), snowglobe, poster, pencil holder, candy,  book (unless you know for sure it’s one she/he really wants), toiletry (unless you know exactly what kind he/she likes) homemade goodies (however pinteresting they might be), or a framed picture of your child? Teachers have more than enough of that stuff, and we never really liked most of it in the first place. Trinkets are something that must either be displayed or packed away, and who has the space to do either? The third option will be explained later in this post.*

I loved your children, but I didn’t want their pictures on my wall or dangling from my Christmas tree or sitting on my desk. Those spaces are for my own children.

Yes, please. Oh dear lord, YES.

What your child’s teachers really want are gift cards to restaurants, stores, and cool educational websites. Your child’s teacher would genuinely appreciate some genuine appreciation. Teachers have very little spare time; gift cards to restaurants are really appreciated. The best educational toys are found online, and since science isn’t tested in most states yet, science toys would be met with grateful thanks of such sincere intensity that you might shed a few tears, yourself.

Teacher Appreciation certificates, good for merchandise, are also well-received. The simple act of letting a teacher know that he/she IS appreciated is really all we want, but a little swag added to it is nice, too.

I know it’s easy, heading to the Dollar Tree or WalMart or one of those overpriced classroom supply stores when it’s time to get a little something for Billy’s teacher, and anything sincerely given is sincerely appreciated. But if you want your child’s teacher to remember you forever as a parent who KNOWS, go for the science toys, restaurant cards, and even a mall card, good for every store in the shopping center. If the teacher has young children herself/himself, fast food cards are a lifesaver; you know how much YOU appreciate having the wherewithal to run through the occasional drive-through, well, a teacher is just like you, except he/she has 30 children (200 if he/she is a secondary teacher) instead of three and less free time than . . . . well, you. If your kid is in secondary school, please don’t forget those teachers, too. Elementary teachers always rake in the loot, but junior high and high school teachers, who deal with hundreds of students each day, are often forgotten.

Amazon cards are lovely, too. Breathtakingly lovely.

*Oh, and that third option, for dealing with the onslaught of the candles, picture frames, apple-shaped stuff, mugs, ornaments, and trinkets?  Brace yourself:

Summer yard sale. Do you really want to see the gift your child gave his/her teacher on the ten-cent-table?

But then, what would YOU do if you were given forty trinkets every year?

So, do what I tell you. Gift cards. Restaurant cards. Science toys. Certificates of appreciation/swag-of-choice.  Starbucks.  Prepaid Visa.  (A girl can dream. . . .)

Amazon card. iTunes. (Make sure the teacher uses iTunes first.)

Teachers are people, you know. Most of them are INTERESTING people. They have actual LIVES, lives that really don’t include ten thousand candles, statues, picture frames, and “World’s Best Teacher” mugs. They don’t really want more wax and ceramics, but they could really, really use some gifts that give them a little breather (coughcoughrestaurantcardcough), and useful things they can actually use at home or in the classroom.

Please include a positive, grateful note.  That will be the best part.  Those, we save.  You don’t even need to include a gift – a positive, grateful, thank-you means so much.  I’m not exaggeration.  Those notes mean the world to a teacher.  I’ve saved every one I ever got.

P.S.  Did I mention that your teacher already has enough mugs and lotion to start a shop?  I did?  Well, I”m mentioning it again.

P.P.S.  Even if we already love you, your child, and the whole family, please be careful about bringing a teacher home-made edibles.  We have allergies, too, or diets, or even just likes and dislikes.  I hate to break it to you well-meaning, generous, lovely givers, but most homemade goodies end up in the wastebasket.  All those adorable, crafty, homemade “favorite teacher” treats you’re seeing on Pinterest?

No.  Thank you, and we appreciate the effort and we know you are appreciative, but. . . . no.

P.P.P.S.  I’m mentioning gift cards again.  Total coincidence.

P.P.P.P.S.  One of the best gifts I ever got from a parent was a pair of razor-sharp fabulous fantastic marvelous Fiskar’s scissors.  It was over ten years ago, and I still thank that woman every time I run into her.

P.P.P.P.P.S.  I also adore the 2-ft.-tall hourglass a student gave me.  Not every teacher would, but this kid knew me well.  Who else among you has a gigantic 2-ft.- tall hourglass, prominently displayed in the living room for all to see? That’s just what I thought.  I rule.

 

No More Death, I Mean It! (Anybody got a peanut?)

Posted on by April 5, 2013
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imagesMamacita says:  Every day, it seems, another icon dies.  It’s getting to the point where I am almost scared of my Twitter feeds – the letters “RIP” are appearing way too often, and they are taking my childhood with them.  They’re taking big chunks of my current life, too.

There are people who are always supposed to be there, even if they’re strangers we know only from the big screen, small screen, book covers, stage, radio. . . .  It’s getting to the point where watching a fairly recent movie wherein everybody in the cast is still alive is more and more rare.

Is this why so many television shows are killing off favorite characters faster than we can adjust our hearts to the loss, to help us cope with real people dropping off the face of the earth, no more to entertain or love us?  I’m not actually talking about people we know personally – family, friends, etc.  That is also happening at a rate faster than our hearts can take, but this post is about “celebrity” deaths that make us cry, because, in a way, we also love those who make us laugh, cry, and enjoy life more because they were there, even though these people don’t know us.

I can barely think of my beloved Madeline L’Engle without sobbing about never knowing what will happen to her characters now. . . .

I am thinking in particular of Roger Ebert and Richard Griffiths, but whenever I watch an old movie (or a new one, for that matter!) I find myself looking at the beautiful, healthy, talented people and wondering how they could possibly be dead.

Then again, maybe that’s one of the wonderful things about preserved media – it makes us all immortal.

I do have a message for all of you living people, however.  Here it is:

Don’t die.  I can’t take much more of this.

Then again, maybe I’ve just been watching too many “What’s My Line” celebrity guest shots from the 1950’s and ’60’s – so much talent, most of it gone.

Thank you, film, for preserving this talent so we can appreciate it years and years after these wonderful people have gone.

And now, I’m heading back to Tweetdeck, fingers crossed.

Also?  Hourglasses used to scare me to death when I was a child.  I think it has something to do with The Wizard of Oz.

 

The Dangers of Dihydrogen Monoxide: Prevent a Tragedy With Science

Posted on by April 1, 2013
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I use this article in my classrooms every spring.  I hope you will all find it useful as well.  Information is life-saving, and this particular information contains more than one lesson for us all.  I would be most grateful, and extremely interested in any comments you will make.

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Dihydrogen Monoxide: When people do not have sufficient knowledge of science, terrible things can happen!

IX:  Deadly science in the home: be sure you know what to look for!

 

poisonEvery year, thousands of people die from exposure to dihydrogen monoxide.  Widely unreported by the media and virtually ignored by government agencies, this silent toxin remains unknown to the majority of people at risk.

 

poisonSome officials believe that dihydrogen monoxide’s deadly facts and statistics will never be fully released to the public because of government dependence on its addictive qualities; in other words, the “feel good” sensations it can deliver are blinding people to the harm it can also cause, and it’s been proven that most federal, state, and local governments are made up of people who simply can’t do without it.

 

poisonThe presence of dihydrogen monoxide has been found in schools, businesses, and even homes, and traces of it exist in many toxic chemicals such as sulfuric acid and ethyl alcohol.  Many estimates show that every home in America – if not every home in the world – contains a DHMO source, intensifying the danger of this potentially deadly and hazardous compound.

 

poisonIn addition to the dangers posed to living creatures, DHMO has caused billions of dollars worth of property and environmental damage.  The chemical compound in DHMO has been known to wipe out entire cities at record-breaking speed.

 

poisonPerhaps the most surprising aspect of dihydrogen monoxide is its wide-spread use in almost every aspect of daily life.  Research has proven that this chemical compound is used for everything from sanitizer to pesticides.  In recent years, dihydrogen monoxide has been used as a performance-enhancing supplement; in other words, athletes and potential athletes are using DHMO as an energy booster before a race or game, etc.  (the fairness and sportsmanship of this practice is being questioned, but the use of DHMO by athletes is rising yearly.)  Younger children, seeing the older athletes using DHMO freely, are imitating them in rising numbers.

 

poisonA surprising number of young parents have been seen – in public – giving children as young as 2 weeks a dose of dihydrogen monoxide in order to quiet or silence them.  One can only imagine how much DHMO these innocent babies are getting at home.

 

poisonDihydrogen monoxide is a popular, much-sought-after substance in the public schools.  Even elementary children have begged for it, right in the middle of the school day, so addicted that they’ve become unashamed in their desperate longing for a “hit.”  Little wonder, too, as we see so many adults carrying a stash of DHMO into stores and other public and private places, unable to do without a “hit” themselves.

 

poisonWhen frozen, DHMO expands to the level that can cause severe damage to people’s homes, often in the night when people are sleeping.  IN fact, DHMO can expand with such violent force that it is not possible to make a usable pipe strong enough to withstand this force.  Variations of DHMO have also been found in homemade bombs, which would use the pressure and explosive power of this compound to destroy.

 

poisonThe American Burn Association has identified DHMO as a target for a public awareness campaign regarding the dangers of the compound, as even a simple action such as heating it in a microwave can cause it to explode unexpectedly and violently, causing first and second degree burns on anyone in its path.

 

poisonDihydrogen monoxide can also cause exponential growth of mold and bacteria.  Under the right conditions, DHMO will encourage molds to grow rampantly, quickly covering surfaces and rising to toxic levels.

 

poisonEven when people are well-trained in the use of dihydrogen monoxide, accidents will inevitably happen and are more often than not fatal.  People’s failure to train their children in the proper use of DHMO will almost always result in shock/trauma at the very least, and brain damage and even death at the very worst.

 

poisonDihydrogen Monoxide is a clear and odorless liquid and is often difficult to detect; experts must be called in when a severe build-up is discovered.  It is difficult if not impossible to totally isolate our society from dihydrogen monoxide, so our survival will depend on our skill in identifying it and using it properly.

 

poisonParents, especially, are urged to secure their homes against dihydrogen monoxide misuse, as the lives and well-being of their children, as well as themselves, depend on it.

 

poisonBe cautious.  Be careful.  Most of all, BE AWARE.

 

Dongles, Sherlock Holmes, and Stuff That’s None of My Business

Posted on by March 23, 2013
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DongleMamacita says:  I’ve been reading about the “dongle incident” and doing some serious thinking.    I’ve also been doing some serious head-shaking, and some equally serious wondering about where the line should be drawn between private conversation and public listening.
I don’t know about you (some of you, maybe, but definitely not all of you. . . .)  but when I’m not sure I understand something, an analogy is sometimes helpful.  Since I am “in education,” (but who isn’t?) I try to think of something well within my own understanding to help me out.
Like this:
Sometimes, teachers assume that their students have a background in cultural literacy when in fact they do not.  And sometimes, helping a student make and understand a connection between one thing and another, makes it all worthwhile.    Sometimes, teachers do not agree on what is worthwhile and what is not.
A few years ago, my sixth graders were getting ready to read a Sherlock Holmes short story: The Adventure of the Speckled Band, to be specific, which is my favorite Sherlock Holmes story.
About ten seconds into my enthusiastic introduction to the story, I realized that my students had never in all their lives even HEARD of Sherlock Holmes.  They will never be able to make that claim again, however.  I assure you.
We read the story and most of the students agreed that it was pretty cool.  Snakes.  Poisonous snakes.  Gypsies camping in the yard.  A cheetah and a baboon wandering free.  A huge powerful man given to fits of violence.  A bed, nailed to the floor.  Bending the iron rod.  Holmes, bending it back.  We discussed the physics of the iron rod; all the students, young as speckled bandthey were, knew that bending the rod in the first place required strength, and that bending it BACK required even more.  Holmes’ powers of observation fascinated the kids. Weird noises in the night.  Strange coincidences that even an 11-year-old thought off-kilter.  A bell-pull that pulled no bell.  Shared inheritances.  Screams in the night.  What’s not to love?
When we had finished, I recommended other Holmes stories, and the bell rang, and they left my room.  I sat there hoping the unit had gone as well for THEM as it did for me.
I knew it had been a good unit when I overheard a group of boys talking about it in the hallway.
“Now I know what it really means when somebody says ‘No shit, Sherlock!'”
No, I did not stop short, drag the student to the office and demand that he be punished for saying ‘shit.’  The P.E. teacher who also overheard the boys wanted to, but I asserted myself, which didn’t often happen because I am pretty much of a wuss in spite of my big talkin’ ways, and anyway, I do not believe in jumping on kids when their conversation was not directed towards me.  Eavesdroppers often hear negative things, and if they would mind their own business, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.  (I am not referring to inappropriate remarks specifically aimed at a non-invited listener with the intent of upsetting, insulting, or otherwise involving said uninvited listener, mind you; I am talking about private conversations that happen to be overheard and sometimes taken personally when no personal involvement is intended.)
I figured that we were eavesdropping on those boys, and that whatever they said to each other in their supposed privacy (unless it was about bombs or threats or clues about who TP’d the restroom or whispers of abuse, etc.) was their business, not ours. Kids deserve some respect.
The other teacher walked off in a huff, carefully, so the corncob wouldn’t fall out.  I smiled at the boys and said, “That’s right, guys.”
Knowledge is power.  Education is all about connections.  And that, as far as I was concerned, was a legitimate connection.
And that is why I think too much was made of the “dongle incident.”  This is also why I do not call a flash drive of any kind a “dongle.”  If I told my students to insert their dongles into the drive, I’d be disappointed if I didn’t get some laughter.  The word “dongle” is funny enough all by itself, and funnier in ANY kind of context.
Too many people take too many things far too seriously these days.  It takes our attention away from REALLY serious things, and THAT, my dear readers, is why so many important things are circling the drain while others, not nearly as important or serious, are getting so much attention.
Taking offense at someone else’s private conversation?  Please.  Was the conversation repellent?  Yes.  Sexist?  Yes.  Anyone’s business other than the two men speaking to each other?  No, it wasn’t.
Should we all try to be kind, considerate, discrete, careful what we say, and mindful of our surroundings when we say it?  Of course we should.
Does it ever happen that eavesdroppers do not hear what they’d like to hear?  That’s been a truism for hundreds of years.  “Eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves.”
Were these men wrong in having this kind of conversation in public and loudly enough to be overheard?  Yes.  Was this woman wrong in making a huge public deal out of it INSTEAD OF trying to deal with it, at least at first, more quietly?  Yes. Don’t get me wrong; I think the men were indiscrete, but I also think the woman overreacted.  And I think the conversation was gross, but other people’s conversations – if they’re discrete – are none of my business.
Could this whole incident have been handled more wisely?  No shit, Sherlock.
Let’s all try to use our brains a little more, and our sense of context a little more, and our “I’m offended” a little less.  There are too many genuinely important issues out there; we must not allow ourselves to be influenced by, let alone offended by, an overheard conversation not even intended for the eavesdropper’s ear.
Rise above it.  Overcome it.  Be better than it.  Don’t give it any attention.
I do not want to live to see the Kardashians win.