Home Sweet Home

We are finally home after a quick visit to my family in the Rio Grande Valley.  I am totally sleep-deprived and suffering from heartburn after binging on my mom's home-made tamales, but my heart is brimming with joy-- the unique joy that comes from spending time with your loved ones in the town where you grew up.  

I love taking my children back home to visit our extended family.  My dad had thirteen children and my dad's brother had sixteen and those two families have grown tremendously. Thanksgiving Day down there is like a big open house day.  Relatives, neighbors, and friends drop in throughout the day to taste the delicious Mexican-style turkey my mother makes, her tamales, and her tres leches cake, and to catch up with the family.  My kids especially love spending time with their many cousins.  Remember how much fun it was to go visit cousins when you were little? 

I also enjoy sharing with my children the spaces and places where I spent the first 19 years of my life. I am overcome by emotion at the thought of my children playing in the same beach in the same sand with the same rocks with which I played when I was a child.  That's when I ponder the insignificance of my 40 years of life on this earth which has been here for 5 billion years.  My great-grandchildren's grandchildren will probably play in that same beach in that same sand with those same rocks long after I am gone. 

My kids love to stand in the room where I slept as a little girl. They can't believe their mom was once a little kid just like them. My parents have combined my grandmother's old room and the room  that my sister and I shared into one large guest room, but sometimes late at night when I walk into that room and see the moonlight coming in through the window, I feel like I am an 8-year-old again looking out my bedroom window.  

I love visiting my childhood home, but I also love coming back to my very own home where my children are creating memories of their own. 

TTYL.

Public vs. Private, Take 2

Well, it's official -- the Obamas have chosen Sidwell Friends School, a Quaker-run institution, as the place where their girls will be educated.  I'm kind of OK with that; I think.  I mean, come on. They have to worry about privacy and security - they don't want reporters harassing their girls and they don't want to worry about their girls getting kidnapped.  Those are definitely reasons to send your girls to private school if you're the President of the United States.  But wait a minute, weren't those same girls in private school in Chicago before their daddy was elected President? What reasons did the Obamas have then? What reasons do most Americans have to send their children to private school?

I've been mulling that question for some time.  A few days ago, I was fortunate to have breakfast with two good friends who are educators and finally had a chance to discuss the topic with them.  One of my friends sends her children to private school, but she is a public school teacher. "Do you really think your daughter is getting a better education?" I asked her.

She said, in her opinion as an educator, she did feel her daughter was getting a better education. The school her child attends requires that every student take an academic test and only those that do well on the test are invited to attend the school.  That means the school doesn't have to deal with children with learning disabilities or low performers.  The school can then focus on propelling those students who arrive with good academic skills already to higher levels.  

She also said she is sending her daughter there because she wants to shield her from the crazy things that happen in some public schools.  For example, she said that at her current school which has a special behavior unit, a boy grabbed a girl by the neck and pushed her against the wall because the boy was angry. That could be scary.  She would rather her daughter not witness those types of events.  

The final reason she gave was because she feels that in public schools, teachers need to focus on the low-performers and the high performers are ignored and that can cause high performers to not develop a love of learning.  

I respect my friend's opinion and all those reasons make sense.  And I guess when it comes to your own child's education, you have to do what feels right for you.   For us, it feels right to send our children to public school.

Both of my children attend the school where my husband is the principal.  It is a Title 1 school which means the majority of the children attending the school come from low socio-economic backgrounds. I think my children are getting a great education.  Their teachers have fostered my children's love of learning. My children love to read.  They love to write.  (My son has his own blog.)  They love science and math.  They are learning to get along with people from different backgrounds.  They are learning about compassion and empathy by seeing first-hand that there are other people in the world less fortunate than they are.  They are cognizant of the fact that they are privileged.  Those are lessons that many American children need. Would they get all that in a private school? Maybe.

Of course, I shouldn't be so hypocritical as I am the product of private universities.  It was exhilarating to be in a school where most students were serious about their studies; where most students could discuss issues in depth; where partying was a recreational activity not a major; where many students felt their lives were to be used to further a cause; where freshman writing seminars consisted of eight students working closely with an English professor; and so forth and so on....but the interesting thing about my private university is that the majority of the students, like me, came from public high schools. Hmm. Go figure.  And of course, I have many friends who got excellent educations in public universities.

But truth be told, if my husband were not an educator, I would send my children to private Catholic schools because I do think it is important for them to get a good foundation in their faith. So I guess I'll stop harassing the Obamas now.  I'm sure they can convince themselves that they have good reasons for sending their girls to private school even before their move to D.C.

TTYL.

Public vs. Private

I was somewhat ticked off at the Obama's last week when I read an article that said the Obamas are not even considering public school as an option for their little girls.  My first thought was, "What?  Are they too good for public school?"  But then as I read more articles about why the Clintons, and so many other high-ranking officials chose to send their kids to private school, I am starting to understand the Obama's choice a little better.

Hillary said that she was advised by several people to keep her daughter out of public school because the reporters would otherwise never leave Chelsea alone.  The truth is that with the Freedom of Information Act, any reporter could request information about the girls from their public school. That is pretty scary.  

I still can't get over the price tag.  The Washington Post reported that the Obama's will spend more than $50,000 per year on private school tuition for their girls.  Wow.  If a school like Sidwell, one of the two schools they are considering, has 1200 students and each student pays about $25,000 per  year, that means that it makes about $30 million dollars a year.  Can you imagine what a public school could do with that much money?

It could hire more teachers to reduce it's teacher-to-student ratio.  It could invest in a fully-equipped science lab and a science lab director.  It could invest in a computer lab with a full-time computer lab director.  It could fully stock its library.   It could have special ed teachers available full-time...the list goes on, and one, and on...

I am glad for the Obama girls who get to go to fancy private schools, but I am saddened by the thought of  how many more children's lives would be changed for the better if the Obamas decided to send their girls to public school.

TTYL.

 

Book Fair Stress

Who was I kidding?  My baby is still teething and she is still feeling miserable.  Thankfully, today was Little Gym day and she was busy balancing on beams, throwing balls around, and chasing bubbles.  That got her in a better mood.  I hope the tooth comes in soon!

I must go to bed early tonight.  Long nights are not good for someone who is just recovering from a sinus infection.  I still feel tired and now stressed.  I am in charge of the school's book fair and getting volunteers to work it has been rather difficult.  The fair is scheduled for the week after Thanksgiving.  If we had to do it over, I would not pick the week after we are all going to be out of school.  This means that the fair needs to be set up the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and reminders about the book fair need to go out too far in advance.  I'm sure it will all work out but right now I'm feeling a little bit of pressure.  Who said stay-at-home moms don't have stress?  :)

TTYL.

See Sylvia Run

Life is hard when you have a teething baby in the house.  Everything was a crisis for her today. Poor little thing.  I know she's in pain, but can I get one tiny break from the screaming?  Please, baby?  One tiny little one?  

I finally put her to bed at 6:45 pm and she was out by 7:15pm.  When I came out of the bedroom after she was down for the night, I was so ready to run away for a few hours to decompress by aimlessly walking the aisles at Target or Wal-mart.  But I was so moved by the scene in my family room -- the kids in their pjs sitting on David's lap while he quietly read Rapunzel's Revenge to them.  How can I run away from that?  I couldn't do it.  I let them finish their chapter and then the kids were sent up to bed after brushing their teeth.  And it was only 7:25 pm!  Bonus!  I can't remember the last time the kids went to bed before eight.  

So instead of running away, I decompressed by cleaning the kitchen with David, packing lunches, and then reading books on the couch together.  I am in a much better place now and tomorrow is a new day and a new chance to start all over again with my little baby.  

TTYL.

See Pug Run

I am so happy.  Tonight, for the first time ever, my kindergartener read Green Eggs and Ham all by herself! She has been reading those little Scholastic Bob books since she turned 4, but those don't really count because they aren't even real books.  For example, here is the text from the first 3 pages of Sam, one of the Scholastic gems to which I am referring:  page 1, "Sam and Cat."; page 2, "Mat and Cat."; page 3, "Sam, Mat, and Cat".  See what I mean? 

Tonight, we were reviewing her homework after dinner when we realized that we had not done one of the items on her list.  I was supposed to read her a book and she was supposed to follow the words with her fingers as I read them.  She loves Dr. Seuss so she picked up Green Eggs and Ham for me to read, but before she gave it to me, she read the title.  Then she read the author and next thing you know, she was reading the whole book.  I wish I could capture the look on her face when she realized what she was doing.  She was beaming, and I guess I was, too.

Every time our children hit a milestone, it brings back memories of my own childhood. The first book I ever read was called Pug.  I still remember the first few pages of that book, probably because it is so similar to the Scholastic gems I was just talking about--Pug.  See Pug Run.  Go, Pug. Go.  Run, Pug. Run.  I guess we all have to start somewhere.  

I wish all kids had a chance to get excited about books early in their academic lives.  I was lucky to have two people in my house who were avid readers: my grandmother and my dad.  I have this vivid memory of my grandmother sitting under a tree reading her favorite book to me. I am supposed to be playing outdoors with my little neighborhood friends, but instead I am sitting right in front of her fascinated by her story.  She looks so cute with her glasses on and that look of total concentration on her face.  She is reading The Three Musketeers. That is such a happy memory for me.   

My dad also loves books.  He has a special affinity for westerns.  We had many, many books and many, many bookshelves in our house growing up.  We didn't have children's books, but we had two encyclopedias - Childcraft and Brittanica, six huge dictionaries where you could look up any word in 10 different languages, many religious books (my dad was educated in a seminary), many science fiction books, including a large collection of Isaac Asimov's, many books on math and physics, and hundreds of other books all over our house. We, kids, all loved the Childcraft Encyclopedia and we all read it from cover to cover by the time we were in fourth grade.  I still love those books.  My bookshelves don't look right if I don't have a set of Childcraft Encyclopedias on it.  Those books must mean a lot to my siblings, too, because at least two of them also have a set in their house for their kids. 

I was lucky, too, that my first grade teacher had a passion for books and she shared it with her students.  She had a loft in her room decorated like a tree house.  We all loved climbing up into that tree house to read.  I wonder how many of those 6 and 7 year-olds are still readers today because of that tree house?

Some people say that they associate whole periods of their lives with certain music.  They hear a song and all these memories flood back.  Books do that for me.  I hope they do that for my children some day, too.

TTYL.

Stars and S'mores

We were supposed to go camping this weekend, but since we were expecting it to freeze, I was sick, and IK was incredibly cranky because she's teething, we decided to cancel the trip. It was for the best. We ended up having a very productive and fun weekend. Well, mostly David was productive. I spent most of Saturday on the couch watching him do laundry and clean the kitchen. He even found time to entertain the kids (and one of their friends!) with a trip to the library and the mall while I took a nap. Yes, life IS good.  

They brought home The Island of Blue Dolphins from the library.  I read that book in jr. high. It was such a treat to read it with the kids.  It's probably not age appropriate for N, but she seems to be enjoying it and keeps asking lots of questions.  We spent most of Sunday morning reading it. We did a few house projects in the afternoon and we thought we would just have an early Sunday dinner and put the kids to bed, but once we fired up the grill, the kids and David insisted that we have dinner in the backyard even though I thought it was too cold.  When we finished eating our burgers, there were still hot coals in the grill.  We decide to pretend like we were camping and had s'mores for dessert.  The kids loved roasting their marshmallows and assembling their chocolaty treat. 

After dessert, to continue with the pretend-camping idea, we went on a "midnight hike" around the neighborhood. The weather was perfect for it and the kids really enjoyed being out getting some fresh air.  It's amazing how a walk can have such a calming effect on children.  Even IK who had been drooling and whining all day was a happy baby on that walk.

Since it was only 6:45 pm when we got home from our hike, we decided to finish off the pretend-camping night with a real look at the stars.  Our neighborhood has too much light to really see anything in the sky so we drove to West Cave Preserve, a light-restricted area in the Hill Country somewhat near us.  The drive to the preserve was peaceful and relaxing. The kids were in their pj's and drinking hot cocoa and everyone was in a talkative mood.  The one slight problem with this plan is that by the time we actually got to the preserve both girls were already asleep and D was about to doze off.  The sky was just too gorgeous to not wake up N and let her see it.  She was glad we did.  D remembered to bring his binoculars and the four of us stood outside our van, huddling together to stay warm, looking up at the Milky Way, the Seven Sisters, Cassiopeia, and a billion other stars for a long, long time.

TTYL.

What I Know For Sure

I was sick as a dog two days ago - so sick that I had to visit the doctor for the first time in a year.  The doctor diagnosed a sinus infection and sent me home on antibiotics. He also recommended I get "the real Sudafed". You know, the kind you have to swipe your ID for.   

There must be something in that "real Sudafed" because a few hours after I started talking it, I felt like a million dollars.  I only took one Sudafed that day because I went to bed early that night, but I  woke up the next morning at 5:30 a.m. full of energy.  The only reason you could tell that I was sick was because I sounded nasal. Otherwise, I was just having another busy bee day.  That night, however, I realized that you shouldn't take non-drowsy Sudafed right before bed.  You really don't get drowsy. The same day that I woke up at 5:30 a.m. I stayed up until 3:45 a.m.  I was up 22 hours.  Exactly what is in that "real Sudafed?"

While I was up lamenting my lack of sleep, I began to ponder "deep thoughts" as always happens when I have insomnia.  I had just had a conversation with a dear friend about family and I guess that got my brain going.   I began asking myself, Oprah-style, what do I really know for sure about family, friendship, love and just life in general?  Below are some of the crazy thoughts I came up with at 3 a.m.  after being up for 22 hours.  This list is in no particular order and by no means, is this list exhaustive, but I thought I'd share it anyway. 

What I Know For Sure

1. Family loves you no matter what.  You can be the meanest person to your mom, but she loves you just as much as she did when she first held you as a tiny baby in her arms.  Same goes for other family members. 

2. I don't think people realize how much their parents love them until they have children of their own.

3. True friends are the ones that don't mind listening to your issues over and over again.

4. It doesn't matter so much what I wear.  What matters is how I feel.  If I feel good, I will look good.

5. A parent's job is to teach their children to be productive, compassionate members of society. If you model compassion, your kids will be compassionate.  If you model selfishness, your kids will be selfish.  On the other hand, you can't blame it all on your parents, you make your own choices, too.

6. Seize the moment.  Some opportunities only come once in a lifetime.  You don't know how long your life is going to be.  Carpe diem!

7. There is no greater passion than the love between two married people (or people committed to each other) who are sharing the ups and downs of life together.

8.  Life is a lot about attitude.  If you have a positive attitude, you will have a positive life.

9.  Volunteering makes you happy.  Somehow dealing with other people's suffering makes you realize how good your life really is.

10. Life is a little about the destination and a lot about the journey.  My grandma used to say this to me all the time, in Spanish.

11. Don't let somebody who is having a bad day make you have a bad day, too.  Smile and move on.

12.  You can't really get to know someone else until you get to know yourself.  

13.  The guy tail-gating you is probably just in a hurry.  Move over and let him pass you.  There are few things in life more satisfying than watching him get pulled over a few blocks ahead of you for speeding.  :)

Okay.  Your turn.  What do you know for sure?

TTYL.

Lizards and Snails and Gecko Tails

Bugs. My kids love them. Yesterday afternoon I was repotting a mum when I discovered a tiny little speckled gecko. It looked so cute just sitting there at the bottom of the pot. I called my daughter over, "Hurry, come see this!  Get your brother!" Both kids ran towards me. 

The excitement in my voice must have startled the little gecko because that thing flew out of the pot and landed right on my foot. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" I screamed so loud it scared my kids. "What's wrong, Mom?  Are you OK?" they wanted to know. "The, the, the lizard is on my foot!"  I yelled again. 

Both kids looked down and started laughing. The little gecko was quietly sitting there about a foot away from my foot. "Mom, it's just a tiny gecko. You're not scared of it; are you?"  D reached down and tried to pick it up. Its tail broke off. N picked up the tail. "Cool, it's still moving!" she said.  D picked up the gecko and held it up to me. "Here, Mom. Touch it." I reached out my hand, but for the life of me, I couldn't do it. You see, I grew up with the fear of bugs in me. I was taught to let out a blood-curdling scream and smash any creepy-crawly I saw. 

My kids, thankfully, have not adopted my ways.  They have opted to go with David's.  David loves bugs, too.  He picks up spiders and carries them out of the house.  Instead of swatting flies, he catches and releases them outside.  He has taught the kids not to step on ants, but to observe and admire them.  He has modeled respect for these creepy-crawlies and the kids have taken this to heart.

"Come on, Mom. Just a quick touch.  You can even close your eyes."  I closed my eyes and gave it a quick swipe with my index finger.  It felt rough and scaly and a little creepy.  The hairs on the back of my neck all stood on end, but I did it!  I touched a creepy-crawly! I have never done that before!  And I did it all because of my kids.  And my husband.  

TTYL.

Plastic Bubbles

Last night at dinner, my son spilled orange juice all over the kitchen floor and as he was cleaning it up, he got a nose bleed.  Boy, was he mad!  "I am bad luck today!" he shouted as he stormed off to the bathroom holding his nose with the paper towels he had just used to clean up the orange juice. A little while later, his sister accidentally hit him on the nose while they were playing and he got another nose bleed. "This is torment!" he shouted.

After he calmed down, I reminded him that people who don't do anything never get hurt or never get nose bleeds.  "It's better to go through life with a few bumps and bruises than to always live life in the sidelines," I told him.  His daddy chimed in, "You don't want to be the boy in the bubble." That was all it took.  D wanted to know who this boy was and why was he in a bubble.  

So instead of reading his bed time book, Peter and the Secret of Rundoon, we googled "the boy in the plastic bubble."   I had heard about this boy but had never taken the time to learn his whole story. It is heart-breaking.  

David Vetter's parents already had a healthy daughter but wanted very much to have a baby boy to carry on the Vetter name.  They had had a boy already, David Vetter III, but he had died at the age of 7 months from an infection.  He had been born with severe combined immunodeficiency (SCID).   Going on the advice of three ambitious doctors who were doing research into a cure for SCID, the parents decided to have another baby.  The doctors warned that this baby had a 50% chance of being born with SCID.  The parents agreed to take that chance and their new baby boy, David Vetter, was born with SCID.  Within seconds of the C-section birth, he was  transferred to a sterile plastic bubble where he was expected to live until a cure was found.  My guess is both the parents and the doctors thought this situation would be short-lived. 

Unfortunately, they were wrong.  That little boy lived in that bubble for twelve years never having felt a human hand on his skin until he was in coma as a result of failed bone marrow transplant from his sister.  His mother was not allowed to hold him before he was put in his bubble for fear of infecting him. Can you imagine not holding your baby right after the birth? Can you imagine a life without human touch?  The lack of human contact had psychological repercussions for him.  He was assigned a psychologist early on to care for his emotional needs.

I cannot fathom wanting to have a child so badly that you would take a chance like that.  What was the quality of life for that little boy? But it is easy for me to do some Monday-morning quarter-backing, we have been blessed with easy conceptions and three healthy children.   I am more upset with the doctors who would ask these young parents for a baby for their experiment.  That is a human life they were experimenting with!  That couldn't happen today; could it?

N was so enthralled with this story that she even dropped her Fancy Nancy book and came over to read with us and look at the pictures.  "Why did they put him in there, Mommy?"  she kept asking.  We tried our best to explain why anyone would do that to their baby. "That is very sad," she said. We all agreed.

D was very pensive.  Then he said, "I'm glad I don't have to live in a bubble."

  

TTYL.

Photo: Courtesy of the BBC UK.

Once

Do you ever watch a movie that makes you feel like a different person after you've seen it? 

We just finished watching Once, a musical about a chance meeting between a guy and a girl that evolves into an uncharacteristic romance.  The movie was filmed on a $100, 000 budget, but it is one of the best movies I have ever seen.  Partly because it is unpredictable.  Partly because it is so real that you feel you are one of the characters yourself.  Partly because it makes you question your life.  Partly because of the music. 

Oh, the music.  The music is just fabulous.  The movie won an academy award for Falling Slowly, my new favorite song.  Listen to it so you can see what I am talking about:

You listen to this music and you wonder how it is possible for a brain to put notes together like that to create something so beautiful.  It literally brought tears to my eyes.  

I love movies that make you question your life.  The characters in this movie have simple jobs. He fixes vacuums.  She cleans houses and sells roses.  But they both have a passion for music and that is what gives them both hope.  What is my passion?  I am 40 years old and I have spent half of my life (19 years) in school, six years working in the oil and gas industry, five years working for government, and the last four full-time parenting.  I love politics.  I love computer systems.  I love math.  But what is my passion?  I'm not sure I know and that's why I think I am lucky to have watched this film tonight.

TTYL.

Short and Sweet

Today is short and sweet.  Everything seems so easy.  Do you ever have those days?  Making lunches and breakfast was actually fun this morning with everyone helping.  IK slept in until 9:30 a.m.  (unheard of!)  I got my book fair plan completed and mailed out before IK woke up. I found out a good friend is getting back with her husband after being separated for more than a year.  I got all my errands run. 

I even got 10 hours of sleep last night.  I accidentally fell asleep with the baby last night at 8pm and rose at 6am to the sound of my husband running into a toy on the floor while trying to wake up our four-year-old who also managed to get in bed with us last night.  Ah, yes, I know. I've heard it all.  "Don't let your children into your bed.  You'll never be able to get them out." But it's so much easier than completely waking up and taking them back up to their bed and it's a myth that children can't sleep by themselves if they have been sleeping in the family bed.  My 8-year-old slept with us until he was 3 and he was perfectly happy to move into his new room and sleep all by himself in his new big boy bed.  Same with NK.  She still comes down to our room occasionally, but for the most part, she stays in her room at night.  I actually love snuggling with them.  They are not going to want to sleep with us forever so why not just enjoy it?  Seize the moment because tomorrow morning they will be different children than the ones you're snuggling with tonight.  

Now I am sitting here watching IK deconstruct her tiny sandwich.  She only wants to eat the turkey.  She refused her veggies and fruits and now she wants more turkey.  Hmmm.  That's a lot of nitrites for one little human.  I should cut her off.

I wish parenting were as easy as everything else has been today....TTYL.

   

Victory is Ours!

I have been humming "Victory is ours.  Victory is ours.  Victory is ours today!" all morning.  I want to sing it at the top of my lungs, but IK is still asleep.  It was a late night for everyone last night.  I have two reasons to celebrate.  The obvious one is Obama, the first African-American to be elected President of the United States.  Woohoo!!!!  The second reason is that my son DK won his own bid for VP at his school today.  Woohoo!!!!!    

I have been up most of the night reading reactions, both from Democrats and Republicans, about the outcome of the election.  Yes, I actually read the National Review.   I stopped when I got to the article that equated allowing abortions to allowing slavery.  Huh? 

Overall, most people are congratulatory.  Obama overcame many obstacles and ran an excellent campaign.  Conservatives agree that the Republican party needs to regroup and devise a new agenda that appeals to the middle class.  What they need  is to start the difficult task of separating themselves from the religious fanatics that make up their current base.  I'm sorry to tell you this, but that's one of the main reasons you lost, folks.  The American people decided they do not want a right-wing evangelical that close to the presidency.  What part of separation of church and state do you not understand?  Some of you might think I feel this way because I am not religious.  Wrong.  I am a Catholic.  I believe in God.  I believe in Jesus (which by the way, wasn't Jesus also a community organizer?)  Maybe where we differ is that I believe in helping people not just in telling them how they should act based on my own personal beliefs.

But back to my literature review, the most disturbing part is that the majority of the opinion pieces I read on the National Review did not seem to blame Palin for their loss. How is the Repulican party supposed to regroup and appeal to the general public when they are tied at the hip to these right-wing evangelicals?  Not that we don't have our own left-left-lefties, but for a party to win it needs to appeal to the middle.  I'm sorry, but in America, the middle is not made up of conservative, evangelical Christians, guys.  Time to do your homework, Republicans, or you're going to be in the same boat in 2010 and 2012.  

Must wake up IK to go to Little Gym class...TTYL.

Don't Count Your Chickens

The vice-president speeches at my son's school this morning were anti-climactic.  I didn't even have time to set up the video camera to record DK's speech before he was done saying it.  Oh, well.  At least I got to take a picture of him giving it and he knows it was important to me because I actually showed up at assembly.  I have only been to assembly one time this year and that was for the first day of school.   I am blessed that my husband takes the kids to school with him every morning.  But today I was nervous and excited for DK and his speech so IK and I made the half-hour trek over to school.   It was actually very nice being there to watch assembly and now I'm wondering if I shouldn't help my hubby out on Mondays and take the kids in... Nah.  

Speaking of speeches reminds me of elections. We are actually thinking of getting a sitter and going to the Driskill tomorrow night to watch the election results with other Democrats.  We would love to host a party at our house but most of our friends have kids and would need to go home about the time that the results are starting to come in from the polls closing.  Bummer.  

Sometimes I get nervous that we are counting our chickens before they hatch.  Every where I look, I read some analysis of what went wrong with McCain's campaign.  Yes, selecting Palin probably made him go down in the polls eventually, but People... IT'S NOT OVER!   Anything can go wrong.  Today on NPR, they were saying that small town voters will have a big impact in some of the swing states.  That worries me a lot -- small towns are full of Republicans, right???Then they had a story about how long the lines are expected to be tomorrow and that might deter the younger voters who are overwhelmingly for Obama.  They interviewed a young man in a swing state who had been waiting in line for 3 hours to cast his early vote.  It was the first time he voted and he said he didn't mind waiting that long because he knew he was casting a historic vote.  I hope other young voters feel the same way he does.  

I am so glad the election is tomorrow.  I cannot go on like this.  I can feel the anxiety inside of me.  I hope with all my heart that Obama wins.  Can you imagine the celebrations that will ensue if he does win?  I will be the first to go out on the streets and light some candles and sing something.  Hallelujah!  The first Black man to be elected President!  The feeling of victory is starting to pump into my blood and it feels GOOD!   

But there I go again, counting chickens....I wish it were 10pm Tuesday night already....

TTYL.

You Miss 100% of the Shots You Don't Take

My son is running for Vice-President at school and tonight he wrote his speech.  He is already in student council as a class representative, but he really wants to be an officer.  I had a great time working on the speech with him.   DH and I wanted him to embellish it with a call and response type cheer or at least a chant. My sister suggested he say "DK is our man!"  I suggested, "DK, DK, he's our man, if he can't do it, nobody can!"   His dad suggested, "A vote for me is a vote for excellence!"  (That's the school's theme this year. ) I told him his favorite candidate has one - "Yes, we can!" but he did not budge.  In his speech, he simply says his name, what position he is running for, and why people should vote for him.  And he closes by saying, "Please vote for me for Vice-President. Thank you."  

I had him practice saying it slowly and pausing after each sentence.  I reminded him to look at the audience which he reluctantly agreed to do after watching one of Obama's speeches on YouTube. He also made two very simple posters.  I really wanted to make the posters for him, but resisted the urge.  It's his responsibility.  What am I teaching him if I make the posters for him?

I imagine most parents are thrilled to watch their child want to be involved in this type of school activity, but I am more nervous than he is about this election.  The other two students running for vice-president are in fourth grade.  DK is only in third.  What if he doesn't win? Will it affect his self-esteem?  Will he cry?  What will I do to support him if that happens?  If he wins, how do we teach him humility?  

My brother says I make parenting hard because I over-think everything.  Maybe he's right.  I should just let my child enjoy his moment in the spotlight. He can't win if he doesn't try.  Go get 'em, DK!  Have fun!

TTYL.