i started out the day with a great deal of difficulty pulling myself out of bed....then pulling drew out of his cozy, warm bed. he's such a good baby, even when i get him up at 6:00 every morning he wakes up with nothing less than and ear to ear, toothless grin...if he happens to catch sight of waylon or ruby we might even get a chuckle. i have a wonderful husband who gets up to help me in the middle of the night or early morning and that just makes things so much easier. anyway, i digress....
on the way to work i turned on the radio to listen to my regular morning show and i hear they are doing their yearly radiothon for the children's hospital. you know the ones, where they play the stories of families who have had the misfortune of having a sick child who may or may not have beat the illness while sad, slow music is playing in the background. unfortunately for me, i'm a sucker for these stories. some of you are probably wondering if this is really me writing since most just see me as a cynical, no nonsense, blunt person...i've come to realize maybe this is one of the reasons i can't deal with emotions and must use a medicinal route to balance myself out. i think i keep a lot of the tenderness i have in my soul to myself, bottle it up and freak out when i can't put anymore in my bottle. that being said, i squalled all the way to the babysitter's this morning listening to a dad tell the story of his sweet little girl losing her battle with leukemia. the more i heard drew babble in the backseat, the more i cried. (luckily i don't do the mascara thing or i'd have been in real trouble.)
once i dropped drew off and kissed him 50 times before leaving, i got myself back in gear for another day at school. i realized then that there are so many kids i've had that i have really loved, mothered and wanted to keep safe and i almost started the waterworks again. i don't cry a whole lot but when i do, i can't seem to stop. now this evening i've just read a blog of a woman about my age with a daughter about drew's age and she's just suddenly lost her husband....then i watched that dang lion video where it runs to it's former owners after it had been in the wild for over a year or so and now i'm crying again. (if you haven't seen it, it's a must...go to youtube.)
maybe the cynic in me just wants to believe it's pms (that's for you jennifer) but then again, maybe there's a soft spot in me somewhere after all. i guess i know it's there, and god knows it's there and that's all that counts....
a few of my Achilles heel's:
`mistreated and neglected babies
`animals...any kind, even the mean ones
`feeling helpless when someone needs me
`those who seek something they may not have been blessed with yet...i'm faithful enough to believe the right thing will come along for you at just the right time.
`families of addicts...too much intervention for me i guess
`people who suffer with mental illness....i've seen how it can effect everyone around them
on a brighter note, i have more to add to "the things kids say" file:
me -"we're going to do a poster on good citizens and not so good citizens."
student-"well, which color are we gonna use for the good?"
me - "i'll let you decide since you came to help me."
student- after thinking for a few minutes as we walk down the hall-"okay, i think we should use yellow for the good. you know, like the sun is yellow and it's good, so we'll use the yellow for the good citizen."
student - "mrs. rosencrans, will you go throw that football again today and tire those boys out? i want them to be quiet when we go back in the room today."
student - "gosh mrs. rosencrans, i'm parched."
student - "you know, i'm half indian."
me - "oh really? like native american indian or india indian?"
student - "huh? you know, like an indian."
me - "oh, that kind....how did you find that out?"
student-"well, my dad told me."
me-"so that means your dad is a full blooded indian?"
student - "yep"
me - "what tribe is he?"
student - "i don't know, we'll have to ask my mom. i can't remember what they said."
so, we go ask his mom, she proceeds to tell him to go out in the hallway while she explains to me what he's talking about. evidently his dad sunburned his feet on the beach and they started calling him tenderfeet as his indian name....adding that he was of the "slap-a-ho" tribe. good thing he couldn't remember what kind of indian he was!
while studying continents this week, we have reviewed and tried to name them daily. student - "south america. mrs, rosencrans, is that where they have the other bible?"
and last but not least, the same student tells me he saw a sign that said "stop! mumbo-jumbo" on it. insisting that's what the sign said, we later found out it was a caution sign for wet floors that was written in spanish...somehow the spanish came out to say "mumbo-jumbo". :)
now to end, i'll leave you with some pictures of my gorgeous, big boy and my most favorite poem of all time.... it's been my favorite for years and years. i guess this is what i hope tim and i, along with our family and friends, can teach drew and any other children we may be blessed with as they grow up. i know it's what i try to be, even though i fail quite frequently....read it closely, they're very wise words.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!