Sometimes, with my cold, dark heart, I forget that there are people in this world that are so inherently good it makes you want to spontaneously hug them. I had one of those moments on the night of my first open house at Exhibit C's preschool a couple years back.
As you may recall, Exhibit C is a medical enigma and the decision to send him to preschool, how he should be placed, which school was right and what modifications would need to be made, all weighed heavily on me. I decided on a highly accredited school with an outstanding reputation that also had a transitional kindergarten option. During the application and interview process, I talked with the appropriate staff members to fill them in on him and I felt good about the decision, even though it did feel a bit formal to me for a preschool, perhaps a bit less warm and fuzzy than that which the older Exhibits attended. As parents, we sometimes do a fine job of second guessing ourselves in these situations, don't we? After registering him, I was excelling at that, and soon found myself sitting at the back to school open house wondering what the hell I was thinking and how on earth I could consider sending my medically fragile child into the big bad world at the tender age of 3.
I liked the teachers and everything they had to say during the meeting but I still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling I had. I wondered if I ought to wait a year but then weighed that against how socially and cognitively ready he was for school. Walking down the hall on my way to the parking lot after the meeting, I ran into the preschool director. I stopped and smiled and somehow she must have read right through that, for she looked at me, smiled right back, then held onto my arms and said, "Cranky Princess, there are no problems that can't be solved here."
I hugged her and thanked her then continued down the hall, tears in my eyes, knowing the decision was good and right.
Exhibit C will attend kindergarten there this year. Since that hallyway moment, I've never once questioned the decision to send him to that school at that time. He has thrived. The director is still there and I *heart* her even more than sparkly tiaras and pedicures.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Career Change
I think I'm in the wrong line of work and that my passion for writing is greatly underutilized given that I do jumping jacks for a living.
Therefore, I was thinking that my mad writing skillz could be better highlighted by a bit of a career change. Picture this: custom, high-end eulogy writing. Work with me here, folks! I am considering opening some sort of online Eulotique. Brilliant, no?! If someone gives me a general outline of a person's life, I would be most excellent at stringing together all that boring crap to make it sound exciting, inspiring and noteworthy. For a small upcharge known as a "Last Laugh Fee", I would be willing to include some humor,'cause Lord knows if you people don't giggle a little at my funeral I'll be both dead AND cranky and that sounds like a combination you want to avoid at all cost.
I would also be willing to go ahead and write your eulogy for you before you're pushing up daisies. This way you can ensure that whoever gets nominated to read it at your service actually knows something about you and can therefore speak eloquently, and with some degree of accuracy, about your life and accomplishments.
One simply can't put a price on the final words one speaks about a loved one. Wait. I can.
Therefore, I was thinking that my mad writing skillz could be better highlighted by a bit of a career change. Picture this: custom, high-end eulogy writing. Work with me here, folks! I am considering opening some sort of online Eulotique. Brilliant, no?! If someone gives me a general outline of a person's life, I would be most excellent at stringing together all that boring crap to make it sound exciting, inspiring and noteworthy. For a small upcharge known as a "Last Laugh Fee", I would be willing to include some humor,'cause Lord knows if you people don't giggle a little at my funeral I'll be both dead AND cranky and that sounds like a combination you want to avoid at all cost.
I would also be willing to go ahead and write your eulogy for you before you're pushing up daisies. This way you can ensure that whoever gets nominated to read it at your service actually knows something about you and can therefore speak eloquently, and with some degree of accuracy, about your life and accomplishments.
One simply can't put a price on the final words one speaks about a loved one. Wait. I can.
Inquiring Minds Wanna know...
This is still fun, in case you were wondering!
http://www.formspring.me/CrankyPrincess
http://www.formspring.me/CrankyPrincess
Friday, August 6, 2010
National Dance Day
I was a fan of the National Dance Day concept. It's silly and stoopid and all kinds and sorts of cheesy... but the ability to dance as if no one is watching and do so with a huge smile on your face is, in fact, priceless. Inspiring a huge number of people to do it across the country on a given day? Even more so.
In my line of work, we "dance" as if no one is watching on a daily basis. We make a living by putting ourselves out there, standing in front of 6 or 60 people who walk through the doors with a variety of agendas, who maybe are there just to check off the box for the day, or perhaps to blow off steam, deal with stress, train hard or to simply get lost in the moment and be entertained. They look to us for all of these things and more and the best we can do is hope that we deliver and connect with each and every one of them on some level. The only way to do this, really, is to be genuine, regardless of how much of ourselves we must leave exposed.
For me, this is the way I handle myself professionally as well as personally. There is some emotional risk involved, of course, as we're all only human with sometimes fragile egos, but I believe the benefits far outweigh this risk.
So here goes, my very favorite National Dance Day celebration, from my kingdom to yours. Watch it and smile and maybe, just maybe, dance right along with the princesses... as if no one is watching.
In my line of work, we "dance" as if no one is watching on a daily basis. We make a living by putting ourselves out there, standing in front of 6 or 60 people who walk through the doors with a variety of agendas, who maybe are there just to check off the box for the day, or perhaps to blow off steam, deal with stress, train hard or to simply get lost in the moment and be entertained. They look to us for all of these things and more and the best we can do is hope that we deliver and connect with each and every one of them on some level. The only way to do this, really, is to be genuine, regardless of how much of ourselves we must leave exposed.
For me, this is the way I handle myself professionally as well as personally. There is some emotional risk involved, of course, as we're all only human with sometimes fragile egos, but I believe the benefits far outweigh this risk.
So here goes, my very favorite National Dance Day celebration, from my kingdom to yours. Watch it and smile and maybe, just maybe, dance right along with the princesses... as if no one is watching.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Little Thumbs
Exhibit C has been a thumb sucker since the day he was born. At four years old, it was still one of my greatest pleasures when he curled up in my lap to snuggle and I heard that sweet little sucking noise as he drifted off to sleep.
I'm not one of those moms who gets overly concerned about things like thumb sucking, picky eating, potty training, or other such things, for, as my father would have reassured me: "I never saw a bride walk down the aisle with a pacifier in her mouth" or "My friends all know how to use a toilet" or "You know, I never met a grown up who only eats mac'n'cheese".
I don't quite understand parents who feel the need to put horrible tasting things on little tiny thumbs or who tie down the thumbs of sleeping children. Most kids who suck their thumbs do so only when they are tired, feel nervous or uncertain or maybe when they get bored. It seems to me that the ability to self-comfort in the first two situations is something we should all be so lucky to have and that creating drama around it doesn't do much to empower or reassure a child. In the case of boredom, well, a little creative parenting can go a very long way.
That said, I recently broached the sacred thumb sucking subject with Exhibit C just to see what he'd say.
Me: Do you think you might stop sucking your thumb any time soon?
Him: *big doe eyed, long lashed blink* NO. (immediately followed by insertion of thumb in mouth)
Me: Alrighty then
Three days ago, though, he announced that he would no longer be sucking his thumb and that at the end of one week with no thumb sucking, he would require a new DS game. Ummmm... OK.
And with that, he promptly stopped sucking his thumb.
This afternoon he curled up in my lap and we talked about important things like Spiderman, birthday parties and why kitties have bristled tongues. I kept expecting him to start to fade and accidentally put that tiny thumb in his mouth, I kept thinking that at any moment I'd hear the familiar, rhythmic, self-soothing sound... but I never did and, truth be told, as glad as I am he did it on his terms and in his own time, I already miss it just a little.
I'm not one of those moms who gets overly concerned about things like thumb sucking, picky eating, potty training, or other such things, for, as my father would have reassured me: "I never saw a bride walk down the aisle with a pacifier in her mouth" or "My friends all know how to use a toilet" or "You know, I never met a grown up who only eats mac'n'cheese".
I don't quite understand parents who feel the need to put horrible tasting things on little tiny thumbs or who tie down the thumbs of sleeping children. Most kids who suck their thumbs do so only when they are tired, feel nervous or uncertain or maybe when they get bored. It seems to me that the ability to self-comfort in the first two situations is something we should all be so lucky to have and that creating drama around it doesn't do much to empower or reassure a child. In the case of boredom, well, a little creative parenting can go a very long way.
That said, I recently broached the sacred thumb sucking subject with Exhibit C just to see what he'd say.
Me: Do you think you might stop sucking your thumb any time soon?
Him: *big doe eyed, long lashed blink* NO. (immediately followed by insertion of thumb in mouth)
Me: Alrighty then
Three days ago, though, he announced that he would no longer be sucking his thumb and that at the end of one week with no thumb sucking, he would require a new DS game. Ummmm... OK.
And with that, he promptly stopped sucking his thumb.
This afternoon he curled up in my lap and we talked about important things like Spiderman, birthday parties and why kitties have bristled tongues. I kept expecting him to start to fade and accidentally put that tiny thumb in his mouth, I kept thinking that at any moment I'd hear the familiar, rhythmic, self-soothing sound... but I never did and, truth be told, as glad as I am he did it on his terms and in his own time, I already miss it just a little.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
I Am, Indeed, A Quitter
Someone recently called me a quitter. At first, it made me angry because it was so obvious to me that he had no earthly idea the kind of fight I put up every single day. It's an interesting concept really... for most of us really don't intuitively know what each other goes through, so I am not sure how we arrive at such conclusions, but it happens quite often, I believe.
My immediate thoughts were as follows, in no particular order: Do you know how much effort is required to slap on a happy face every freakin' day regardless of what havoc is being wreaked in my body at any given moment? Do you think it's easy to try to go about my business, maintaining a sense of normalcy not only for myself but so that the small human beings who once dwelled in my belly can feel secure and know they have the world at their fingertips? Does wanting to be in control of my own destiny, be surrounded by the people I love and be in the places I want to be in make me a quitter? Does signing a DNR order mean I've thrown in the towel or is it perhaps a sign that I understand that in both living and dying, prior proper planning prevents piss poor performance? Is it so wrong to want to handle things on my own terms? And, perhaps, most telling, are you presuming that your way is the only way and therefore the right way?
However, upon further consideration, I must say, I concur. I am, indeed, a quitter... for today I do, in fact, declare that I quit. I quit putting effort into people who can't be bothered and who don't appreciate how fleeting time is. I quit taking medications that make me feel worse than the disease for which I am taking them, and I quit hanging my hopes on unkept promises and arbitrary statistics. You tell me there's a 94% chance that something bad will happen and I will look you in the eye and say there's a 6% chance it won't. You say quitter, I say fighter, but I do, indeed, quit fighting with you. So there. You were right. I am, indeed, a quitter.
My immediate thoughts were as follows, in no particular order: Do you know how much effort is required to slap on a happy face every freakin' day regardless of what havoc is being wreaked in my body at any given moment? Do you think it's easy to try to go about my business, maintaining a sense of normalcy not only for myself but so that the small human beings who once dwelled in my belly can feel secure and know they have the world at their fingertips? Does wanting to be in control of my own destiny, be surrounded by the people I love and be in the places I want to be in make me a quitter? Does signing a DNR order mean I've thrown in the towel or is it perhaps a sign that I understand that in both living and dying, prior proper planning prevents piss poor performance? Is it so wrong to want to handle things on my own terms? And, perhaps, most telling, are you presuming that your way is the only way and therefore the right way?
However, upon further consideration, I must say, I concur. I am, indeed, a quitter... for today I do, in fact, declare that I quit. I quit putting effort into people who can't be bothered and who don't appreciate how fleeting time is. I quit taking medications that make me feel worse than the disease for which I am taking them, and I quit hanging my hopes on unkept promises and arbitrary statistics. You tell me there's a 94% chance that something bad will happen and I will look you in the eye and say there's a 6% chance it won't. You say quitter, I say fighter, but I do, indeed, quit fighting with you. So there. You were right. I am, indeed, a quitter.
For whom?
I do not believe that it is selfish to value quality of life over quantity. I believe that someone asking another person to endure pain and medications and procedures that are sometimes worse than the condition itself and adding the words "for me" or "for them" to the end of the sentence is far more selfish.
That is all.
That is all.
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