Deep in my soul, I understand that my job as a mom is different. I understand that I am supposed to empower my daughters to walk towards their own, independent future.
I'm very proud of my daughters. They are learning both life lessons and educational lessons with relative ease. I love to watch them discover the answers, and yet, I cry when we reach major milestones. I honestly could not tell you why. I don't know if I am overwhelmed by pride, or if I am mourning that I am one step closer to their independence from me, or if I am simply just a crybaby and never knew it.
I do know that I am expecting the tears at the school program. My oldest child will no longer be an "elementary" student. We will cross yet another bridge. Together for now.
I am grateful every day that even as it gets more challenging, my children still talk to me and ask me questions. This is a precious gift and an awesome responsibility. I know that it is my opinion and experience that they weigh against what they see.
Someone once told me that children need us more when they are in these between years than they did as infants. I could not have imagined what they meant as infancy meant I was responsible for everything from nutrition, medication, toileting to speaking and singing and being cheerful enough. It was exhausting and I looked forward to the time when they would not need those things so often.
Now, as I watch my daughter and listen to her, I understand. She is trying to take those steps from little girl to woman. I can see she is trying to find what works for her. As I have said before, it often appears she is "trying on" personalities. I can see that she needs an anchor, a rock. She needs someone she can come to her to remind her of the focus and the guidelines of life. My daughter is very fortunate to have attended a wonderful school where she has been given many tools to walk through her life, but still she needs to see me using those same tools. She needs me to reaffirm that they are real and that they work. I can see now why that need is there. Life presents challenges at very inopportune moments. Things happen that I may not have warned her about. I don't get to schedule when she learns each lesson. I have to hold her in my arms or in my heart as she walks through these challenges and reassure her that it will indeed become part of her experience someday.
I understand as I watch her. I know that she has all of the tools we have shared with her. I know that she will use them. I know that she has a focus. I thank God every day for lending her to me. She has such a beautiful heart and mind and I know she has a wonderful future ahead of her. I continue to show her that she is able to form her own life. She will find that there are both positive and negative ways to handle each challenge in her path.
I believe this might be why I cry. It is pure sentiment. I love her. She is not mine to hold forever. It is really not about the potty training or the Christmas gifts. She is merely mine to guide and love for this very short time and I will continue to cherish every moment for as long as I can. The rest of the worldly wisdom will wait.
Children are truly our hearts.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Future
When I was a kid, my father would tell me over and over the gap between the educated and the not was growing. He would tell me that if I did not have a degree in engineering or medicine, that I would spend my entire life pumping gas. Okay... so the man did not exactly have a crystal ball. I cannot remember the last time I saw a gas station attendant that actually pumped the gas for me. I did not get a degree in either engineering or medicine. In fact, I am an engineering drop out. (Gasp!) I tried it, could not imagine spending my entire life as an engineer and in my 20 year old wisdom, changed my major to nursing.
So, now I see why he had those conversations with me. I have worked and been fairly well compensated considering, but now that I am older, and have my own children, I am developing a fairly large dose of my own paranoia.
For instance, I am fortunate enough to have friends who travel around the world. It is disturbing to hear that teens in Iran have better, smarter cell phones than we do in the United States. It is absolutely terrifying to see the use of technology in Korean schools. The elementary students there are not only fluent in Korean and English, but often are little genius' with computers. They are using technology in the classrooms that I can only imagine as an adult.
Soooo, the paranoia begins. I am now consumed by insurance, finance and education. I can see that US currency has lost a lot of power. I feel the overwhelming urge to lecture my children and tell them that in spite of bombs and shootings in the middle east, I feel that the real war now is education and technology. I feel like telling them if they don't work hard and faster and quit worrying about "play time" that this land mass will be owned by someone smarter and stronger in the future.
Ahhh...and then I take a breath. I encourage educational opportunities at every turn. I try to help my children figure out how to research and design their next project using a computer. I am already doing everything I can to impress them with my own paranoia. There is no need to burden them with visions from my teenage nightmares of a gray jumpsuit with a stitched name patch.
As I write this I am also assimilating a list of possible activities for summer vacation. I am no longer using graph paper to plan every moment of my day like I did in college, but I do like to have an outline. Why? There are far too many pointless distractions along the way that can become habits. Video games, TV, and other past times are okay in small doses, but we are all bombarded with the message that we are truly missing out if we do not catch the latest episode of "program Z". What is it that we are missing? In twenty years, will it matter if character a asked character b to get married? OK, so say it is that important...can my children build anything from that information? Could we have spent the time better?
So, I am not a complete "Tiger Mom"... We do watch movies or play laser tag occasionally. I am aware that sometimes, they just need to blow off steam, but I keep the "outline" as it keeps us from doing these things every day. Watching TV every day is not going to help them become the fittest and the best... They are not expected to win a Nobel Peace Prize, but I do not want them to wait for the opportunities. Hopefully, my children will have the skills to seek their own paths.
More importantly, I keep the outline to remind them that we have choices. We can do something at the beginning of the summer that will teach us how to do something even more amazing toward the end of summer. I'm trying to show them how to reach out and grasp their own self confidence and self pride. We celebrate our achievements and we even try to figure out what we could do differently from our failures. I cannot help but think this is much more important than watching fictitious characters live out a "plot".
Someone once said to me, "I don't know why you do all of this and worry about their college education. They are girls and will probably just get married anyway." First of all, I do not know what the future will be for my children. If they chose to get married and become a stay at home mom, I want it to be because it was THEIR choice, not because they did not have any other alternatives. And of course, quietly, to myself I thought, "Thank God you are not the father of daughters."
My life was centered around working for years. This last year, I have been learning a new path. I have had a job that has not dictated my every moment. I have been with my children more and we have been learning together to be more domestic. We are learning new recipes and learning to fix toilets. We are learning together. I do not know which has been more important, learning or together, but I know I value both I am able to laugh at the mistakes. I remember one year my mom quit her job and decided to be a stay at home mom. I remember it more as a cry for help. My mom made some sort of horrendous boiled lamb dish, added wheat germ to my sandwiches and checked me out of school to go shopping.I never really knew what to expect next. It was pretty funny. She made a taffy recipe, cut the candy into squares and placed them in a jar... The next day, the entire jar was a big sticky mess. As for the boiled lamb, even the dog would not eat it. The day that she made liver and onions, the dog actually hid from her. My mom went back to work full time after one year. I think maybe going straight to full time mom was a bit much for her.
I cherish this time. I may not get a cash bonus, but I get a lot more hugs and kisses. I may not get a certificate or diploma to display on my wall, but I have photos of very important celebrations and joys. I may not get a trophy or an award, but I get to see the excitement in their eyes and I get to hear their stories.
I'm sure in my own ways, I am giving my children nightmares about wearing the gray jumpsuit. I cannot help it. It appears to be natural to worry about your children's future and to react to that worry in some way, but I hope my children look back on this as the best time of their lives. I'm pretty sure I will.
So, now I see why he had those conversations with me. I have worked and been fairly well compensated considering, but now that I am older, and have my own children, I am developing a fairly large dose of my own paranoia.
For instance, I am fortunate enough to have friends who travel around the world. It is disturbing to hear that teens in Iran have better, smarter cell phones than we do in the United States. It is absolutely terrifying to see the use of technology in Korean schools. The elementary students there are not only fluent in Korean and English, but often are little genius' with computers. They are using technology in the classrooms that I can only imagine as an adult.
Soooo, the paranoia begins. I am now consumed by insurance, finance and education. I can see that US currency has lost a lot of power. I feel the overwhelming urge to lecture my children and tell them that in spite of bombs and shootings in the middle east, I feel that the real war now is education and technology. I feel like telling them if they don't work hard and faster and quit worrying about "play time" that this land mass will be owned by someone smarter and stronger in the future.
Ahhh...and then I take a breath. I encourage educational opportunities at every turn. I try to help my children figure out how to research and design their next project using a computer. I am already doing everything I can to impress them with my own paranoia. There is no need to burden them with visions from my teenage nightmares of a gray jumpsuit with a stitched name patch.
As I write this I am also assimilating a list of possible activities for summer vacation. I am no longer using graph paper to plan every moment of my day like I did in college, but I do like to have an outline. Why? There are far too many pointless distractions along the way that can become habits. Video games, TV, and other past times are okay in small doses, but we are all bombarded with the message that we are truly missing out if we do not catch the latest episode of "program Z". What is it that we are missing? In twenty years, will it matter if character a asked character b to get married? OK, so say it is that important...can my children build anything from that information? Could we have spent the time better?
So, I am not a complete "Tiger Mom"... We do watch movies or play laser tag occasionally. I am aware that sometimes, they just need to blow off steam, but I keep the "outline" as it keeps us from doing these things every day. Watching TV every day is not going to help them become the fittest and the best... They are not expected to win a Nobel Peace Prize, but I do not want them to wait for the opportunities. Hopefully, my children will have the skills to seek their own paths.
More importantly, I keep the outline to remind them that we have choices. We can do something at the beginning of the summer that will teach us how to do something even more amazing toward the end of summer. I'm trying to show them how to reach out and grasp their own self confidence and self pride. We celebrate our achievements and we even try to figure out what we could do differently from our failures. I cannot help but think this is much more important than watching fictitious characters live out a "plot".
Someone once said to me, "I don't know why you do all of this and worry about their college education. They are girls and will probably just get married anyway." First of all, I do not know what the future will be for my children. If they chose to get married and become a stay at home mom, I want it to be because it was THEIR choice, not because they did not have any other alternatives. And of course, quietly, to myself I thought, "Thank God you are not the father of daughters."
My life was centered around working for years. This last year, I have been learning a new path. I have had a job that has not dictated my every moment. I have been with my children more and we have been learning together to be more domestic. We are learning new recipes and learning to fix toilets. We are learning together. I do not know which has been more important, learning or together, but I know I value both I am able to laugh at the mistakes. I remember one year my mom quit her job and decided to be a stay at home mom. I remember it more as a cry for help. My mom made some sort of horrendous boiled lamb dish, added wheat germ to my sandwiches and checked me out of school to go shopping.I never really knew what to expect next. It was pretty funny. She made a taffy recipe, cut the candy into squares and placed them in a jar... The next day, the entire jar was a big sticky mess. As for the boiled lamb, even the dog would not eat it. The day that she made liver and onions, the dog actually hid from her. My mom went back to work full time after one year. I think maybe going straight to full time mom was a bit much for her.
I cherish this time. I may not get a cash bonus, but I get a lot more hugs and kisses. I may not get a certificate or diploma to display on my wall, but I have photos of very important celebrations and joys. I may not get a trophy or an award, but I get to see the excitement in their eyes and I get to hear their stories.
I'm sure in my own ways, I am giving my children nightmares about wearing the gray jumpsuit. I cannot help it. It appears to be natural to worry about your children's future and to react to that worry in some way, but I hope my children look back on this as the best time of their lives. I'm pretty sure I will.
Post Near Death Experiences....
There was a blip on the evening news tonight about a man who had suffered Post Concussion Syndrome. For those of you who do not know, this is basically a diagnosis given when the symptoms of concussion continue far longer than a normal concussion. Some people never recover, some recover after a few months, some recover partially.
The point of this news story was that after recovering, this man began to give everything away. He had been very wealthy, and at the close of the story, was living in a 1000 square foot mobile home and had very few possessions. He felt that his PCS had changed his perspective and he realized that greed and money were never going to make him happy.
Some who know me may think that I am going to relate with this since I quit a very secure and well paid position to pursue a career in the poverty of teaching.
I did think about the similarity just a little, but most of all, I felt very sad for this man. Clearly he was not happy before the concussion. Clearly, he was still searching for happiness.
Yes, I made some pretty major changes to my life. It might have seemed as extreme as giving away all of my possessions. I may have a love of technology and gadgets, but I have never drawn my source of happiness from them.
My heart stopped for a time, and I have no stories to tell of "the other side". Clearly, I was not meant to be dead at that time, or I would be. It is that simple for me. I did not have any near death epiphany. The brain injury changed my life. It shook my confidence. We all know life is short, but live our lives in the bubble that it is something we read about others. I got a face to face look at the possibility of never spending another Christmas with my children. I also recovered my ability to speak and read, but there are things that I have not yet recovered. These are the events that changed my life.
I got to see that my priorities and my time on earth did not exactly match. The reality was that my job was not going to become any less demanding. I was not finding job satisfaction that could balance how I felt about saying "No, I'm sorry, but I have to go to work early." so often. My priorities are my children.
I try not to get too caught up in the near death epiphanies that others talk about. I heard no voice. I saw no light. I was given no "special" instruction. I don't mean to dash anyone's hopes. I think when it is the right time, it will be exactly the way it is supposed to be. A peaceful release from the trials this life has to offer.
Having said that, I think it is a gift to appreciate the time we have. I am ever mindful of how I spend my time now. I try not to live in worry, anger or general discontent. I try to look for the smiles in the room instead of wondering who may not like me. So... maybe I did have an epiphany of sorts. I have always felt this way, but I am much more concious of it now. It does not just exist in books for me now. It is my bubble. I am careful with my bubble.
I have made peace with a great many issues as I prioritize my time. I cannot relive the last nine hours if I have allowed frustration to own them.
I was given a gift when my heart was repaired. I have never had a healthy heart, and the repair itself did damage compounding the damage done by my heart fighting against itself. The surgery was no guarantee that I would live into my eighties, it simply borrowed a little more time for me to tell my children just how much I love them.
One of the things I have used my time for the most is simply talking with my children. We take walks, we turn off all electronics at home and sometimes just talk, sometimes we play games, sometimes we have a project. My kids have a lot to say, about everything. There is no TV show more entertaining than my child's story about a bunny and butterflies, nor an app that is more important than a shared concern.
It will never be April 26th, 2011 again, and for the most part, I feel like we used our time well. Maybe I did get that epiphany after all.
The point of this news story was that after recovering, this man began to give everything away. He had been very wealthy, and at the close of the story, was living in a 1000 square foot mobile home and had very few possessions. He felt that his PCS had changed his perspective and he realized that greed and money were never going to make him happy.
Some who know me may think that I am going to relate with this since I quit a very secure and well paid position to pursue a career in the poverty of teaching.
I did think about the similarity just a little, but most of all, I felt very sad for this man. Clearly he was not happy before the concussion. Clearly, he was still searching for happiness.
Yes, I made some pretty major changes to my life. It might have seemed as extreme as giving away all of my possessions. I may have a love of technology and gadgets, but I have never drawn my source of happiness from them.
My heart stopped for a time, and I have no stories to tell of "the other side". Clearly, I was not meant to be dead at that time, or I would be. It is that simple for me. I did not have any near death epiphany. The brain injury changed my life. It shook my confidence. We all know life is short, but live our lives in the bubble that it is something we read about others. I got a face to face look at the possibility of never spending another Christmas with my children. I also recovered my ability to speak and read, but there are things that I have not yet recovered. These are the events that changed my life.
I got to see that my priorities and my time on earth did not exactly match. The reality was that my job was not going to become any less demanding. I was not finding job satisfaction that could balance how I felt about saying "No, I'm sorry, but I have to go to work early." so often. My priorities are my children.
I try not to get too caught up in the near death epiphanies that others talk about. I heard no voice. I saw no light. I was given no "special" instruction. I don't mean to dash anyone's hopes. I think when it is the right time, it will be exactly the way it is supposed to be. A peaceful release from the trials this life has to offer.
Having said that, I think it is a gift to appreciate the time we have. I am ever mindful of how I spend my time now. I try not to live in worry, anger or general discontent. I try to look for the smiles in the room instead of wondering who may not like me. So... maybe I did have an epiphany of sorts. I have always felt this way, but I am much more concious of it now. It does not just exist in books for me now. It is my bubble. I am careful with my bubble.
I have made peace with a great many issues as I prioritize my time. I cannot relive the last nine hours if I have allowed frustration to own them.
I was given a gift when my heart was repaired. I have never had a healthy heart, and the repair itself did damage compounding the damage done by my heart fighting against itself. The surgery was no guarantee that I would live into my eighties, it simply borrowed a little more time for me to tell my children just how much I love them.
One of the things I have used my time for the most is simply talking with my children. We take walks, we turn off all electronics at home and sometimes just talk, sometimes we play games, sometimes we have a project. My kids have a lot to say, about everything. There is no TV show more entertaining than my child's story about a bunny and butterflies, nor an app that is more important than a shared concern.
It will never be April 26th, 2011 again, and for the most part, I feel like we used our time well. Maybe I did get that epiphany after all.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
BIG mistake...
There is something to be said about the bond of similarity. I was always fiercely independent. I got straight to the point whether I was speaking to a man or a woman. It never really mattered to me as long as my point was understood.
And this is my point. This week I am discovering that having a gender preference can really make all of the difference in the world. One of my daughters is much more sensitive to this than I could ever imagine being. I did not realize how much until yesterday. I usually think things through, especially when it comes to my children, but I missed a BIG one yesterday.
My daughter is in a pretty sensitive place right now. She's not really a teenager, but she is not really a child either. Through no fault of her own, she was placed in a very uncomfortable situation where she needed to explain something sensitive. It was necessary that she speak up and my husband and I agreed that this time he would go. Somehow I totally missed the importance that both of the people she would be speaking to were men. I knew they would be, it was not really a surprise, but I am absolutely angry with myself for not seeing that the situation would be worse for her with two men. I knew instantly when I saw her face and body language after the meeting. I could see utter humiliation in my child.
I hope I never forget the look on her face. I hope I am reminded of her need for female support in the future. Even in the afternoon her mood was still a little darkened. And I realized that she was not the only one who may need the same gender support more than I realize.
This has been very traumatic to my entire family. I have never seen my husband so upset. If I had to describe his face, it would be filled with frustration, anger, helplessness and devastation at the same instant. I realized that he needs to be able to speak to men who have daughters. Yesterday showed him very clearly that being a father of sons has differences. I am grateful that we do know a few very wonderful men that he will be able to go to for advice about being the father of daughters.
Unfortunately, I am all too aware that life has many twists and turns. Some of these are excruciatingly painful. I am human, and I am enraged at the situation, but I can also see that my children are surrounded by love and support. Right now, they are wounded and hurt, but in a few months, like a healed broken bone, they will be stronger. In the meantime, I will do what I have always tried to do. I will keep a close eye on my children. I will talk to them. I will let them talk to me. I must continue to comfort my girls and to reassure them that I am always supporting them. I will help to guide them when the decisions are uncomfortable, and I will be cheering for them when they overcome obstacles, both seen and unseen. I just hope we have a little breathing space before the next large obstacle arrives.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Opportunities to Educate
Our children are in a tough situation. Government, Districts and Schools are too busy fighting about money to ensure a solid education for the future.
It irritates me to walk into a classroom and not see a large detailed map. A few classrooms I have been in do not even have maps. Most often, I see a sad small globe. The map has lost importance. Teachers are being forced to teach for THE test in order for their school to get the appropriate funding. Most teachers are frustrated that they are only able to teach Science and Geography occasionally.
I am also astonished at our lack of use of technology. My children have done typing tutor websites, reading games and math games online at school. In this day and age, when most work is done on a computer, why are they not doing most of their assignments using a computer? Why not? It is much easier to continually build on math skills before sending them to Calculus class, why is the attitude not the same for computers and technology? I wish it were a priority. I don't know how much more evidence we need that our children need to be very comfortable with technology. I do not think playing video games is going to be enough. Our students should be able to create spreadsheets for their data by fifth grade. If you think that sounds ridiculous, take a look around the average professional workplace. More skills are already required. It is a learn it or be left behind time.
So, enough with the rant. What do I do about this? Since the fighting continues about what should be done with our schools, I will draw from my own experience. Two very intelligent women I know, came back from a conference with a dream. This was quite a long time ago. They wanted each student to have mobile access to a computer so that they would be able to do work in the classroom using an interactive white board. They could research and create assignments on computers. The only thing our school had at the time were white boards and an outdated computer "lab". This all seemed just insane. The budget would never cover it. It would be years... No.. by the next fall, the classrooms were equipped with interactive white boards, and there was a cart full of netbooks to travel to each classroom for assignments. It seemed like an incredible dream, but it happened very quickly. I will continue to tell this story for others to listen. When we have a disability, we go to tremendous extremes to become more able. We do not let it stop us.
At home, my children are given "project ideas". They have to do the research. What? Why? When? Where? How? And of course, how much? When they are done, we go over the information to see if it really a project we would like to do. Both of my children are able to type a paper and create artwork on the computer. They are able to incorporate both into one page. I will continue. We watch youtube videos to learn how to do more projects.
Why would we not do this and much more? We have the entire world of information at our access at any time. It is easy to find more to learn.
While they work it out, I will continue to supplement with as many activities as I can. We may not go on the travel brochure vacation, but I can assure you that we waste no time. Educational opportunities do not have to be drudgery. Neither do they have to be like Magic Mountain. I refuse to allow my children to become the future housemaids of the Chinese children who are studying and learning in their free time. My children are not entitled to a childhood of video games and movies to be paid for with a lifetime of ignorance.
Please do not feel sorry for them. My children are happy. They have fun. They also understand and appreciate the value in education.
Google and Yahoo and other Internet companies based in the United States are already having a very difficult time finding qualified applicants from the US. Most of their new hires have a passport issued from another country. When will it be time to take this seriously? When it is also our local grocery store?
I won't wait for that. I will continue to speak about this until ALL of our children are being given a chance.
Insects and Trees
The Praying Mantis project has proven to be a little more perplexing. After one week, we have three left alive. I do not really have any idea how many were in there when we started, and we released at least a 100 of the little creatures.
I do not know if they are unhappy with their food, or the conditions or if there are simply too many pesticides in suburbia, but they are definitely not doing well. In the spirit of not feeling complete failure, we decided we would take another of our insect habitats and a couple of nets to the local park to catch as many small insects as we can to provide a sort of "buffet" for our remaining mantids. We would have to watch carefully to see which insect disappears first. Maybe then we will have a better clue what they would like to eat.
We loaded up the car, took a picnic basket and drove to the park. This park is amazing to view nature in action. This particular park has a pond, many paths, a wooded area, and many different types of plants and trees. It offers the most variety of habitats in a square mile area. It is a large enough park to see ducks, geese, squirrels, bats, insects and birds and yet small enough that we do not have major "too hot, too tired" breakdowns.
With all of the things I listed, bug nets, lunch, habitat, wildlife, something really should have crossed my mind. Really, I should have heard sirens in my head as well pulled up in the parking lot. But I was blissfully unaware.
We started walking up the path. It was a beautiful afternoon. The light filtered through the lacy canopy of the trees. It reminded me of growing up in England. It was not yet hot enough to be miserable. It was lovely. We saw so many squirrels and turtles and geese. My youngest was already catching bugs with the stealth of a hawk.
It actually did not occur to me what I was missing until I felt a little tingle on my lip. I reached up to brush whatever dust or leaf had fallen on me and there it was. My left hand was so swollen that my rings were embedded in my skin. I called to my daughters. 45 minutes would have to be enough bug catching time because I had forgotten to bring benedryl or an epi-pen.
My oldest looked very concerned. "Mom, take off your rings."
I just shook my head, "It will be okay in a few minutes, it's too late to try to get the rings off. I will just wait until the swelling goes back down."
She really did not seem convinced. "K, it is all right. Whatever it was, I didn't even notice it. A few minutes after the medicine this will all start to go away and I will be fine."
The girls don't look like they believe me and insist on watching as I give myself the shot and take the pills. They saw me when my heart stopped and that took away a lot of faith for them. They do not take it for granted that I will be "just fine" yet. After about twenty minutes of them hovering over me acting very professionally with 'Sissy, I think she needs an ice pack', and 'look for a bite mark'. Once I can remove my rings, they are satisfied that I will indeed survive.
Well, as usual, things did not go exactly as planned. We only brought home seven insects for our 'buffet'. We did learn that maybe we should double check that we have at least benedryl with us when we are going to play with nature.
I still do not know what bit me. It doesn't really matter. I never saw it, so I could not have avoided it, and I find it pointless to hold a grudge. I am allergic to a lot of Oklahoma plants and insects. So many that neither I nor my doctor know all of them. Again, what is the point? I cannot avoid them all, and I do not wish to hide from them, so I should just remember my medications and get on with it.
We will go back to that park. We will probably forget the medicines at least one more time.. and we will probably survive. I have a safety net sometimes, you see the hospital is only about a mile from the park. I do like to live life, but it is not accident that there are five hospitals within ten miles of our house. (There are more than double that if we double the mileage.) We have too many unexpected events as a family. Or maybe, since we have survived them all, just the right amount of unexpected events.
Since I detest failed hatches, I have ordered three more egg cases. We will figure out how to do this correctly. We are doing more research to try to make the accommodations better. Yes, we learn even from our failures, but it would be so much cooler if this project could last longer than a week.
I do not know if they are unhappy with their food, or the conditions or if there are simply too many pesticides in suburbia, but they are definitely not doing well. In the spirit of not feeling complete failure, we decided we would take another of our insect habitats and a couple of nets to the local park to catch as many small insects as we can to provide a sort of "buffet" for our remaining mantids. We would have to watch carefully to see which insect disappears first. Maybe then we will have a better clue what they would like to eat.
We loaded up the car, took a picnic basket and drove to the park. This park is amazing to view nature in action. This particular park has a pond, many paths, a wooded area, and many different types of plants and trees. It offers the most variety of habitats in a square mile area. It is a large enough park to see ducks, geese, squirrels, bats, insects and birds and yet small enough that we do not have major "too hot, too tired" breakdowns.
We started walking up the path. It was a beautiful afternoon. The light filtered through the lacy canopy of the trees. It reminded me of growing up in England. It was not yet hot enough to be miserable. It was lovely. We saw so many squirrels and turtles and geese. My youngest was already catching bugs with the stealth of a hawk.
It actually did not occur to me what I was missing until I felt a little tingle on my lip. I reached up to brush whatever dust or leaf had fallen on me and there it was. My left hand was so swollen that my rings were embedded in my skin. I called to my daughters. 45 minutes would have to be enough bug catching time because I had forgotten to bring benedryl or an epi-pen.
My oldest looked very concerned. "Mom, take off your rings."
I just shook my head, "It will be okay in a few minutes, it's too late to try to get the rings off. I will just wait until the swelling goes back down."
She really did not seem convinced. "K, it is all right. Whatever it was, I didn't even notice it. A few minutes after the medicine this will all start to go away and I will be fine."
The girls don't look like they believe me and insist on watching as I give myself the shot and take the pills. They saw me when my heart stopped and that took away a lot of faith for them. They do not take it for granted that I will be "just fine" yet. After about twenty minutes of them hovering over me acting very professionally with 'Sissy, I think she needs an ice pack', and 'look for a bite mark'. Once I can remove my rings, they are satisfied that I will indeed survive.
Well, as usual, things did not go exactly as planned. We only brought home seven insects for our 'buffet'. We did learn that maybe we should double check that we have at least benedryl with us when we are going to play with nature.
I still do not know what bit me. It doesn't really matter. I never saw it, so I could not have avoided it, and I find it pointless to hold a grudge. I am allergic to a lot of Oklahoma plants and insects. So many that neither I nor my doctor know all of them. Again, what is the point? I cannot avoid them all, and I do not wish to hide from them, so I should just remember my medications and get on with it.
We will go back to that park. We will probably forget the medicines at least one more time.. and we will probably survive. I have a safety net sometimes, you see the hospital is only about a mile from the park. I do like to live life, but it is not accident that there are five hospitals within ten miles of our house. (There are more than double that if we double the mileage.) We have too many unexpected events as a family. Or maybe, since we have survived them all, just the right amount of unexpected events.
Since I detest failed hatches, I have ordered three more egg cases. We will figure out how to do this correctly. We are doing more research to try to make the accommodations better. Yes, we learn even from our failures, but it would be so much cooler if this project could last longer than a week.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Just a little bit of art and craft.
I have known many artists. One of them works full time at a regular job, and creates amazing paintings that have been displayed around Oklahoma and has even made specialized pieces to be reprinted by the thousands for a more commercial use. She amazes me. I have watched her work, somehow hoping to "catch" just a little of her gift. I can look at something with her in awe and watch as she erases, or paints over and not have noticed any flaw.. but sure enough, when she is done, perfection is actually reached.
I neither have the skill, nor the eye to create such perfection. I have said on more than one occasion that I can create just about anything out of paper. I have made the Santa Maria, the ship Columbus sailed, I have made a many globes, and really just about anything that has crossed my mind. I love working with paper. Paper and I seem to have an agreement that paint and I cannot reach.
I can sketch something that looks reasonable and then proceed to ruin it with paint. I know what I wanted it to look like, but I do not understand the nuances of light and shade enough. I have tried to learn, but I appear to have been vaccinated. I know that I should add more white where I want to show light. I know that I should make the shadows more severe..but I just cannot seem to make myself do it. When a teacher guides my hand to add a flash of white, it does indeed look amazing..but then it is her painting. When left alone, I tend create blah.
I do not give up. I may yet create a masterpiece, or at least something I'm confident enough to sign. In the meantime, I will console myself by creating something with paper and glue and ink. I will also continue to look for inspiration. I just viewed a blog by an actual artist with photos of some of her lovely creations. She appears to be multi talented. She has creations from watercolors, clay and photographs. She is gifted and is sharing her gifts with others. She has the eye, the vision and the confidence and I thank her for sharing in her blog. She has, after all inspired me to try watercolors this weekend.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Cupcake Success!
I am not a chef... Okay, I am not even a competent cook. I brag that my children eat a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables, and yes, that was intentional, but it has been successful largely due to my lack of ability in the kitchen.
So, what makes today so special? I got many many complements on the last batch of cupcakes I made. Cupcakes and baked goods in general have largely been a complete waste of time between my disasters and the simple fact that when I purchased a new oven, I bought the coolest double oven I could afford....in a gas model. I have since learned that electric is much better for baking..
How could I have gotten so many compliments? Well, I had an idea the other day. I happened to have a lemon cake mix, a container of marshmallow creme, green frosting, jelly beans and a new cupcake decorating set. Why do I have a new cupcake decorating set? Because I have hope. Let's just leave that alone, it is delicate.
Well, I got the idea as I was unpacking the cupcake decorating set. I read all of the instructions, (as if they could help me) and there was a special gadget for inserting Bavarian cream into a cupcake. I had a vision of a very special cupcake. We used the cake mix to make wonderful little cupcakes. After they had cooled, I used the bag and special tip to force marshmallow goo into each cupcake. Then I used the star tip to create swirls of green frosting on top of each one. My daughter then decorated the tops with a couple of jelly beans. VIOLA!! They were yummy.. I could not believe it. They were so yummy that I sent them to school the following morning! Several children who normally will just reach for the chocolate cupcakes approached me to tell me how wonderful my cupcakes were.
I know, those of you who produce such culinary wonders are probably about to fall asleep. To me, this was not just about an idea. I have lots of those. Those ideas in the kitchen rarely work out well. Sometimes even the dogs will run away and hide. I know women who have received blue ribbons at the fair for their prize recipes. If one existed, I'm sure I would have a blue sticker in my kitchen.. similar to the ones displayed in some cars. I like to think I am just "differently abled".
Those compliments were like an Oscar to me. I should have taken a bow. I will cherish the day I had a cupcake success for a long time. That memory will get me through many burned or incorrectly mixed baking moments. I will hold on to it until the next time I produce something worthy of compliments. And that is how life is. So what if I burn grilled cheese sandwiches and cookies. Big deal. I am not afraid of that kitchen. I can always try again. One burned meal does not mean we will never eat.. It just means that night we are having salad and fruit, since I have not found a way to ruin them..See? So my kids are healthier because I am a terrible cook.
:)
So, what makes today so special? I got many many complements on the last batch of cupcakes I made. Cupcakes and baked goods in general have largely been a complete waste of time between my disasters and the simple fact that when I purchased a new oven, I bought the coolest double oven I could afford....in a gas model. I have since learned that electric is much better for baking..
How could I have gotten so many compliments? Well, I had an idea the other day. I happened to have a lemon cake mix, a container of marshmallow creme, green frosting, jelly beans and a new cupcake decorating set. Why do I have a new cupcake decorating set? Because I have hope. Let's just leave that alone, it is delicate.
Well, I got the idea as I was unpacking the cupcake decorating set. I read all of the instructions, (as if they could help me) and there was a special gadget for inserting Bavarian cream into a cupcake. I had a vision of a very special cupcake. We used the cake mix to make wonderful little cupcakes. After they had cooled, I used the bag and special tip to force marshmallow goo into each cupcake. Then I used the star tip to create swirls of green frosting on top of each one. My daughter then decorated the tops with a couple of jelly beans. VIOLA!! They were yummy.. I could not believe it. They were so yummy that I sent them to school the following morning! Several children who normally will just reach for the chocolate cupcakes approached me to tell me how wonderful my cupcakes were.
I know, those of you who produce such culinary wonders are probably about to fall asleep. To me, this was not just about an idea. I have lots of those. Those ideas in the kitchen rarely work out well. Sometimes even the dogs will run away and hide. I know women who have received blue ribbons at the fair for their prize recipes. If one existed, I'm sure I would have a blue sticker in my kitchen.. similar to the ones displayed in some cars. I like to think I am just "differently abled".
Those compliments were like an Oscar to me. I should have taken a bow. I will cherish the day I had a cupcake success for a long time. That memory will get me through many burned or incorrectly mixed baking moments. I will hold on to it until the next time I produce something worthy of compliments. And that is how life is. So what if I burn grilled cheese sandwiches and cookies. Big deal. I am not afraid of that kitchen. I can always try again. One burned meal does not mean we will never eat.. It just means that night we are having salad and fruit, since I have not found a way to ruin them..See? So my kids are healthier because I am a terrible cook.
:)
Work Work Work
I took a leap last year. I had cardiac ablation last year to rid me of the pesky Wolff Parkinson White Syndrome and immediately put in my notice at work. My former employer was a very large, very popular airline. I have dealt with some of the angriest people in the industry and have had some of the most interesting situations come across my desk. That was my job, to handle 'escalated' situation.
My last official day of work was May 8th. I worked the overnight shift so that my Mother's Day present to myself would be no more 50 hour work weeks. I was giving up a good salary, great benefits and a steady future income but I had plans. I was going to enroll in school, look for a part time job in the fall.
It didn't exactly go that way, because an opportunity came to me. It was practically gift wrapped. There was a part time position available at the church right next door to the school my children attend. On May 7th, I interviewed for the job.
May 7th was also the day of the track meet. I support my kids so I went to the track meet on that beautiful sunny day. Just two weeks before I was taking 4 different heart medications. Two of them cause sun sensitivity. Hmmm.. I wonder what happened. Yes, I was wearing sunglasses so I got the coolest of all sunburns. (Insert sarcasm here.)
My first job interview in over 15 years was going to be at 7p.m. and I did not get to my house until almost 6:30 p.m. I took a look in the mirror, the mom outfit, the ridiculous sunburn and frantically scrambled thru my make up drawer. I guess I was frantically looking for an actual miracle product. I quickly realized that there was nothing that would cover either the red stripes, or the white ones. I took a long look in the mirror, brushed my hair and walked out of the house. The only thing worse than showing up for an interview looking this ridiculous would be to show up late. (This is what I am telling myself.)
I showed up a few minutes early and this is when the situation got even more ridiculous. I was not just being interviewed. There were seven or eight people there ready to question me. FANTASTIC! A group humiliation event. OK, so needless to say, it was really difficult to take the whole thing seriously knowing what I looked like. So I just relaxed, introduced myself, smiled and made a joke about my first interview appearance in 15 years.
I was FLOORED when I got the phone call Monday. They were actually offering me the job. I was unemployed for ONE day. I had planned to goof off with the girls all summer but now I would need to report to work the next day. WOW! I thought back to the interview questions. What on earth could these people have thought? None of the interview questions were that challenging and I breezed through them all. So I was given a gift. I would be able to be right next door to the school if my children needed me. My hours were to be pretty flexible if I needed. Amazing.
Now that it is almost a year later, I would add a couple of things to the interview list. This is not just a job. Being an Administrative Assistant at a church is more challenging than I would have imagined. There are days when I just would like to run away. Unlike my previous job, if someone is upset with me when I explain how or why something will not happen, I will see these people again. Not only will I see them at work, I attend the church where I work. This means that often, on Sunday, I am asked for things. That is fine, but it should be disclosed in the interview. If I am in that building, I consider myself to be "at work".
Now, life may very well take another change. I never know what will come next as for some reason I feel that the possibilities are endless. I feel completely free since my surgery in a way that I will someday try to put into words. When I was hired for this job, I was told that the new Pastor may want to hire someone else and that I may be let go. I am at peace with that. I have had some wonderful conversations with some wonderful people. The good thing about that job is everybody eventually comes to my office. I get to see some of the kindest faces. I have gotten many hugs and many words of encouragement.
There is no room for regrets or unnecessary disappointment in life. It is experience, and I LOVE experience. I hope to have many many more experiences to talk about.
My last official day of work was May 8th. I worked the overnight shift so that my Mother's Day present to myself would be no more 50 hour work weeks. I was giving up a good salary, great benefits and a steady future income but I had plans. I was going to enroll in school, look for a part time job in the fall.
It didn't exactly go that way, because an opportunity came to me. It was practically gift wrapped. There was a part time position available at the church right next door to the school my children attend. On May 7th, I interviewed for the job.
May 7th was also the day of the track meet. I support my kids so I went to the track meet on that beautiful sunny day. Just two weeks before I was taking 4 different heart medications. Two of them cause sun sensitivity. Hmmm.. I wonder what happened. Yes, I was wearing sunglasses so I got the coolest of all sunburns. (Insert sarcasm here.)
My first job interview in over 15 years was going to be at 7p.m. and I did not get to my house until almost 6:30 p.m. I took a look in the mirror, the mom outfit, the ridiculous sunburn and frantically scrambled thru my make up drawer. I guess I was frantically looking for an actual miracle product. I quickly realized that there was nothing that would cover either the red stripes, or the white ones. I took a long look in the mirror, brushed my hair and walked out of the house. The only thing worse than showing up for an interview looking this ridiculous would be to show up late. (This is what I am telling myself.)
I showed up a few minutes early and this is when the situation got even more ridiculous. I was not just being interviewed. There were seven or eight people there ready to question me. FANTASTIC! A group humiliation event. OK, so needless to say, it was really difficult to take the whole thing seriously knowing what I looked like. So I just relaxed, introduced myself, smiled and made a joke about my first interview appearance in 15 years.
I was FLOORED when I got the phone call Monday. They were actually offering me the job. I was unemployed for ONE day. I had planned to goof off with the girls all summer but now I would need to report to work the next day. WOW! I thought back to the interview questions. What on earth could these people have thought? None of the interview questions were that challenging and I breezed through them all. So I was given a gift. I would be able to be right next door to the school if my children needed me. My hours were to be pretty flexible if I needed. Amazing.
Now that it is almost a year later, I would add a couple of things to the interview list. This is not just a job. Being an Administrative Assistant at a church is more challenging than I would have imagined. There are days when I just would like to run away. Unlike my previous job, if someone is upset with me when I explain how or why something will not happen, I will see these people again. Not only will I see them at work, I attend the church where I work. This means that often, on Sunday, I am asked for things. That is fine, but it should be disclosed in the interview. If I am in that building, I consider myself to be "at work".
Now, life may very well take another change. I never know what will come next as for some reason I feel that the possibilities are endless. I feel completely free since my surgery in a way that I will someday try to put into words. When I was hired for this job, I was told that the new Pastor may want to hire someone else and that I may be let go. I am at peace with that. I have had some wonderful conversations with some wonderful people. The good thing about that job is everybody eventually comes to my office. I get to see some of the kindest faces. I have gotten many hugs and many words of encouragement.
There is no room for regrets or unnecessary disappointment in life. It is experience, and I LOVE experience. I hope to have many many more experiences to talk about.
Multiple Personalities
I am generally comfortable being myself. Sometimes I do admit that I temper myself out of respect for others, but tend to squirm quickly if I am not able to just be who I am.
I am completely fascinated by those who seem to vary from this so greatly. My poor daughter is in some sort of transformation between little girl and adult. It's pretty painful to watch as I often feel like she is trying on personalities. Some days she is overly kind and helpful. Other days she is completely passive as if life is too meaningless for her. Then occassionaly, I see her try to be mean, really mean. Some days she tries on the popular, everybody loves me snob personality.
I know she will find that who she really is will be sort of a blend of all of these personalities that she is trying on. I know that she will find confidence and poise. I am counting on it. Because in the meantime, it is a little like living in an asylum. I never know when I open her door in the morning what will be coming out. Will she be Miss energetic? Will she be sullen and depressed? Will she snap at her sister for existing in the same house? Will she offer everyone a cup of tea? We never know.
I have stopped talking to other mothers of pre-teen and teen daughters because there is not a lot of positivity about this. Most seem to advise that will last for years. That is not helpful to me. I don't have "years" worth of patience for this. I know that right now, I can shake if off, gently guide her toward humanity and move on. I don't know how many times I can do this without also becoming sullen, snappy and mean.
For her sake, and the sake of her younger sister, I pray this does not last for years.
I know she will find that who she really is will be sort of a blend of all of these personalities that she is trying on. I know that she will find confidence and poise. I am counting on it. Because in the meantime, it is a little like living in an asylum. I never know when I open her door in the morning what will be coming out. Will she be Miss energetic? Will she be sullen and depressed? Will she snap at her sister for existing in the same house? Will she offer everyone a cup of tea? We never know.
I have stopped talking to other mothers of pre-teen and teen daughters because there is not a lot of positivity about this. Most seem to advise that will last for years. That is not helpful to me. I don't have "years" worth of patience for this. I know that right now, I can shake if off, gently guide her toward humanity and move on. I don't know how many times I can do this without also becoming sullen, snappy and mean.
For her sake, and the sake of her younger sister, I pray this does not last for years.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Oreos and Mosquito Nets
When I was a small child, I wished that there would be no pain. I wished there would be no hungry children, no bad people to cause harm, no disease, no broken bones. I read so much and came across so many examples of what seemed like pointless suffering. I saw my parents and others just going through life as if it did not exist. That seemed so crazy to me. How could you just eat a corn dog at the air show like nothing is wrong? Don't they know there is real suffering out there? Oh yeah, I thought it was my job to explain to them what we should be doing to stop the suffering.
Yes, I became the annoying little monster at the dinner table. I put up kindness posters that I made myself. I would mention at the dinner table that we should be ashamed of ourselves for not mailing our dinners to a child in Africa. I even refused medication once, insisting that there were children in the Amazon that needed them. I was that child. I really believed that if everyone would just listen to me, we could cure all of these problems..
Now I know. There is a balance. There has to be. I cannot mail all of my meals and medicines to children in other countries. I teach my children of the current issues. I tell them that it is more than poverty. There is not one magic solution. One meal is just that. A meal. That person will be hungry again. We have contributed to building a source of fresh clean drinking water. We have sent mosquito netting and I explained the diseases that mosquitoes spread.
When we were packing up countless boxes to send to our soldiers overseas, my heart filled with pride. These girls were making sure that each and every box had a package of Oreos. They said that canned foods and black socks may be what they asked for, but that everyone had good thoughts when they ate Oreos. They are probably right. I cannot recall a time when I saw someone eat an Oreo cookie with a frown, or scowl.
I am so grateful that we write down these moments. I need to hold on to that feeling of goodness. I need the mental picture of each child carefully packing and inspecting the boxes to be sure that nobody was left out. I often refer to those moments when these same children act like it is the end of the world when they dont get something they want. It reassures me that they are not Veruca Salt, that somewhere inside, they know that most things just are not that important. I know that deep inside, they can sympathize and find compassion for suffering they could not possibly understand.
When we were packing up countless boxes to send to our soldiers overseas, my heart filled with pride. These girls were making sure that each and every box had a package of Oreos. They said that canned foods and black socks may be what they asked for, but that everyone had good thoughts when they ate Oreos. They are probably right. I cannot recall a time when I saw someone eat an Oreo cookie with a frown, or scowl.
I am so grateful that we write down these moments. I need to hold on to that feeling of goodness. I need the mental picture of each child carefully packing and inspecting the boxes to be sure that nobody was left out. I often refer to those moments when these same children act like it is the end of the world when they dont get something they want. It reassures me that they are not Veruca Salt, that somewhere inside, they know that most things just are not that important. I know that deep inside, they can sympathize and find compassion for suffering they could not possibly understand.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
How to extend the life of your dryer.
Many of us have complained about our appliances. "They just do not last as long as the one my Grandmother had". I hear that all of the time. Why is that? So many things have changed since grandma's day. I really think I do more laundry than my grandmother did. We are spoiled. At my house, we use a towel once. One video about the nasties found on a towel after use made that happen.
So many of us have purchased the new High Efficiency washer and dryer sets that the old "sudsy" laundry detergent is a relic at the store.. Rare and difficult to find. Most of us paid way too much for these appliances to risk shoddy care.
One of the biggest culprits for the dryer mortality rate is fabric softener. That sounds completely ridiculous right? A few years ago, I read an article about lint screens. (I know, I read way to much.) It said that we all know to clean out our lint screen after each load. We all yell at our kids for not doing it, citing that the dryer will overheat. I am a fanatic about cleaning the lint screen and always have been. My parents did it, I do it. It's the cycle of life.
Then I read the article. It was saying that your dryer overheats and the heating element wears out even if you are scooping the lint out after every load. The problem is invisible. It is fabric softener in the wash and fabric softener sheets. The article said that it "coats" the lint screen in the same way lint does and it interrupts the flow of air. Whoever wrote the article knew I would be skeptical, because they went on to say that I should take my lint screen to the sink and turn on the water. The water would not flow thru the screen. "Right" I think to myself, but I take the screen to the sink.
Water did not flow. Now, in theory, this makes sense. Surface tension, combined with something a bit gooey and viola... But it was still very surprising to me. So, the moral of the story is that I now take my screen to the sink occassionally and scrub it with soap and water until water flows freely. The article claims this will double the life of my dryer. I'm beginning year two with this new dryer and I will continue to pamper it as I paid way too much for it to take it for granted.
So many of us have purchased the new High Efficiency washer and dryer sets that the old "sudsy" laundry detergent is a relic at the store.. Rare and difficult to find. Most of us paid way too much for these appliances to risk shoddy care.
One of the biggest culprits for the dryer mortality rate is fabric softener. That sounds completely ridiculous right? A few years ago, I read an article about lint screens. (I know, I read way to much.) It said that we all know to clean out our lint screen after each load. We all yell at our kids for not doing it, citing that the dryer will overheat. I am a fanatic about cleaning the lint screen and always have been. My parents did it, I do it. It's the cycle of life.
Then I read the article. It was saying that your dryer overheats and the heating element wears out even if you are scooping the lint out after every load. The problem is invisible. It is fabric softener in the wash and fabric softener sheets. The article said that it "coats" the lint screen in the same way lint does and it interrupts the flow of air. Whoever wrote the article knew I would be skeptical, because they went on to say that I should take my lint screen to the sink and turn on the water. The water would not flow thru the screen. "Right" I think to myself, but I take the screen to the sink.
Water did not flow. Now, in theory, this makes sense. Surface tension, combined with something a bit gooey and viola... But it was still very surprising to me. So, the moral of the story is that I now take my screen to the sink occassionally and scrub it with soap and water until water flows freely. The article claims this will double the life of my dryer. I'm beginning year two with this new dryer and I will continue to pamper it as I paid way too much for it to take it for granted.
Praying Mantis
As with all of our projects, I did all of the research. Once I had researched the Praying Mantis until I had reached the "This is the end of the Internet" sign, I condensed a few sites for the girls to read the information and view a few videos. Mind you, all the while, the details of this project are making me a little more squeamish than I would have anticipated.
First of all, we already had a suitable "cage" since we have previously hatched butterflies, so we moved on to ordering an egg case. Yes, that is correct, it is an egg case. It is a little ball that resembles poop. Yes, I said it. It is too obvious not to say.
One of the "details" is that each of these egg cases can provide between 100-400 mantids. I bought two in case one did not hatch. (Uh, yeah, I'm thrilled at the prospect of having 800 bugs in my home..) Oh wait! That's not correct either, because one of the other tiny details is that when they hatch, they need to eat. What do they eat? Each other. Okay, if you do not feed them a suitable food, they will eat each other. So, what is a suitable food? They like insects. The insects that are small enough for a baby mantid to eat happen to be flightless fruit flies. (Please say that three times.. for effect.)
I have mentioned that we have hatched butterflies. Well, let me just say how much more I appreciate butterflies. They have the decency to suck sugar water off of a sponge or paper towel.. Nice and easy food source. Also, butterflies have a reliable calendar. They arrive and you have an approximate due date. Ours have hatched within a day or two of that date. That is because the butterfly life cycle is relatively fixed. Eggs are layed and a clock starts. The day or so before they hatch, they even give you clues.. The cocoons begin to wiggle. Nice of them to give a sign.
Praying mantis egg cases are not so accommodating. I glued them to a stick.. per the instructions.. and then it says, "will hatch in approximately three to eight weeks". WHAT? What kind of guideline is that? Apparently, these creatures have a time clock that changes with the temperature, humidity and wind direction. All things must be within reasonable parameters for a length of time (also unspecified) before they mature enough to hatch. Nice.. oh, and there is no wiggling, no color change in the egg cases.. No signals that us mere humans are able to detect.
So, I talk a few teachers into having a praying mantis lesson for the children. If I'm going to have hundreds of them, I am going to share. I created worksheets and information sheets for the classes.
And we wait...and wait.. This poses a laundry list of questions. Do we do the worksheets and risk not seeing any "action" out of these eggs for a month or more? Do we leave them in the classroom waiting for them to hatch and eat each other over the weekend before anyone notices?
I decided to keep them home. The odds are tiny that they will hatch the same day, so I figure that I will see some hatchlings and take them to school the following morning. If you have been paying attention, tiny odds should be tattooed on my forehead.
As I sit here now, the first egg case began hatching just before we came home this afternoon. This meant I drove to the closest pet store carrying the flightless fruit flies to get food. (About 7 miles away) I returned and watched with fascination as they drop and hang from the egg case, waiting to dry before crawling away. Just now, the second egg case began hatching. GREAT. Now, I will be showing a video of the hatching process tomorrow at school.
I also have two vile vials on my desk containing the flies and maggots that will grow into more flies as well as some sort of toxic looking goo at the bottom that the flies are feeding on. Eeewweeee.. There just are not words to describe the feeling. How do I get here? It always starts with an idea. Then I realize that all things truly seem to be possible. The next thing ya know, there are nasty things in a jar on my desk.
The things I do to promote growing minds. The purpose of doing all of this is to teach a few simple concepts. Praying mantis do not carry disease. They do not bother humans. They eat insects that humans kill with pesticides. More Praying mantis', less pesticides. Also, to teach that they are indiscriminate predators. If it crawls, flies or hops like a bug, and will fit into their mouth, they will eat it. Females only eat the males if they are hungry and nothing else is nearby. Same with the babies. They will eat their siblings only if they are hungry and cant find something else.
An inadvertent lesson is that it is more important to learn than to be squeamish. We also will be releasing hundreds of mantids into the local environment to eat lots of garden pests. With any luck, their efforts will be appreciated.
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