Mean Tooth Fairies

Last night I had to "extract" a tooth from Leah's mouth that was making her gum infected. The dentist told told her on Tuesday that she had to get the tooth out by Friday.  If not, he would have to pull it. NOOOOOOOO! She was adamant that she could do it. So Leah, sweet little worrier that she is, spent most of the day Wednesday and Thursday wiggling that stubborn tooth around. Every time I looked at her she was working on that tooth.

It was hard to get out because the infected gum was poking up through the middle of the tooth. That tooth was defiant. It was also making Darren and me crazy. Of course Darren had to do the Dad thing--go get his biggest pair of pliers and say, "Hey, let me get that old tooth out for you. I have just the right tool."

Leah's response: SCREAM BLOODY MURDER. I told her that's just what Dads do, they try to tease you to make you smile. Or scream. My Dad had the biggest pair of pliers on the planet, and he took great joy wielding them around when I had a tooth that needed to come out.

Even Leah's best friend's father, a surgeon no less, had a similar reaction on Wednesday night. He went and got some surgical tools out of his kitchen drawer and said, "I can get that tooth out for you, Leah."

Leah's reaction: Cover her mouth and back out of the room.

Why do all Dads do that?

So, last night we sat at the kitchen table and with a paper towel I just wiggled that tooth around for about 10 minutes it seemed. Leah would wail now and then I would stop. She started coloring a picture to get her mind off the ordeal.

At this point my arm was numb and I had had enough. RIP!

SCREAM. HOWL. MANY TEARS. SOME BLOOD.

"I'm not going to school tomorrow," she sobbed. "It just hurts too bad." I made her a milkshake with crushed up ibuprofen so she wouldn't have to chew the tablets. She said it was gross. It was. Little purple chalk-like pieces floating around.

She said she was going to bed. This morning, she could hardly wake up.

As I like to say, "She was having a bit of a lie in." A term the English say for "sleeping in."

The tooth fairy, after putting his pliers back in the garage, only produced $3. He was flat out of cash, he said. That was sort of a rip off after the ordeal. I will try to make it up to her today.

Mean tooth fairies.

Two Great Irish Tales

Top 'o the morning to you! And no, I'm not chipper in the a.m., I just like that expression. I've been thinking a lot about Ireland lately because it's St. Patrick's Day soon, and because I've read two amazing books about Ireland for my young adult lit class.

The first book is a non-fiction book. Like most people, I prefer fiction, but not after reading this amazing story of the Great Irish Potato Famine of the 1850s. The book, Black Potatoes, chronicles the terrible famine that consumed Ireland due to the failure of the potato crop. During those times, the average Irish person ate 14 pounds of potatoes per day. So to have that crop decimated resulted in deaths of at least a million people and the migration of millions to the US and other countries. This is one reason for the strong Irish presence in the eastern United States. 

Non-fiction books for young adults are not written like they used to be. In the past there really wasn't such a genre as non-fiction for young adults. You just went to the library and picked out a boring encycolpedia, textbook-like book in the children or adult sections. Now authors are writing these riveting books for young adults. When you read them, it feels like you're reading fiction because the details are so descriptive and the format is so interesting. The facts are there, but told in such a way that they become page-turners. They're read for pleasure and not just for information.

The second is a novel titled The New Policeman by Kate Thompson. It is a fantasy tale about losing time and gaining time and the connection time has between two worlds. It is rich with Irish lore, customs, music and dancing. The Irish are a superstitious people, and this book explores some of those themes like luck, elves, and the use of music to keep bad spirits at bay. Each chapter has piece of music relating to the plot. I didn't realize music was such an integral part of Irish culture. But it was fun to sit down and play some of the tunes!

March is Such a Flirt

March is not my favorite month. The weather flirts like a lunchroom of hormonal teenagers and then the bell rings and everyone has to go to class. Glorious one moment, gloomy the next. Come to think of it, that's what teenagers are like in general. In fact, I think March is the most teenagerly month of the live-long year.

If I were a month which one would I be? I do have mood swings like March, but since I don't care for March all that much . . .hmm.

I love months that are not too hot or cold. Spring makes me crazy because the weather is so unpredictable--flirty, right? Snow in May is just too depressing for words. So that eliminates Nov., Dec., Jan., Feb., March, April, May, July, August, September. That leaves June and October. June is glorious, with the hopes of the summer before us, and days that smell like roses. October is beautiful and warm and colorful, and I was born in October.

So, by process of elimination, if I could be a month I would be June or October. Such randomness on a Wednesday morning when I've got to be in class in less than an hour!

Wow, that was short

Woe is me.

I was supposed to post every day in March. On March 1st I posted. Then I just forgot. For about two days. And how it's the 6th and I wonder why I can't remember things and how this always happens to me.

Take last Friday for instance. I took Leah to buy a gift for her friend. We found the gift and I went to pay. No debit card. I left her at the store (she was with her friend, I'm not that much of a slacker-well, maybe I am) and went home to look for the card. After tearing things up a bit I found it in a checkbook full of empty checks that I had been scrambling though earlier to find a blank check. (I didn't find a blank check, of course, and all the others were gone, not surprising.) I ran back to the store, paid for the gift, then collected the girls. Came home, got in the car to go collect the dog from the groomer, and got two blocks before I stopped to make sure I had the card. Dumped my wallet out. Cursed. Fumed. Cursed again. No debit card. Called the toy store to see if it was there. (At least I had my phone!) Went back home and took the credit card out of the drawer that I use only for emergencies. Now it was too late to collect the poor dog who had been at the groomer's since 9:30 am. because I had a hair appointment to get to. Darren said he'd get the dog and I went on my way. Still have the credit card and am using it because I can't bear to go into the bank and get another debit card for the 2nd time this month! I am thoroughly disgusted with myself and embarrassed.

Yesterday, Sammie was looking on a shelf and said, "MOM, isn't this your debit card?" Bless you dear child I said and put it in my wallet that is now more disheveled than disheveled. I put the credit card back in the drawer.  On my way home from school I stopped at the grocery to get some things, and was all happy to have my cute pink debit card with me, tucked into my wallet. The checker ran it through twice but it was denied. It was then, and only then that I realized that this must have been the debit card that I lost two weeks ago and forgot to destroy when I got a new one.  I got a bit teary when I told the checker that I couldn't believe it, that my life was disorganized beyond belief, and said that maybe I would be back after I went home to get the credit card. But I didn't. I was just too defeated.

Instead I wondered why I had given up sugar, what a stupid, stupid thing.

I know that the minute I go to the bank I will find the $%^#@ thing,  but I am getting desperate and the credit card balance is steadily growing and this doesn't bode well for my marital happiness. I hate checks but it looks like I am going to have to order them.

This just isn't the slightest bit amusing anymore, but it makes for good blog material. I think I had better head for the bank. Defeated by the debit card again.

Hey, how about those Orem High Tigers? State 4 Champions! Go Tigers!

Writing Every Day in March

In my teaching composition class my professor has encouraged us to write in our blogs EVERY day in March. If we do so, and regularly comment on our fellow students' blogs, then our writing will improve, and I think she said something about winning books or something. Winning books is enough for me. I am going to give it a shot.  Here are some things I'm thinking about lately. Just things that keep running though my mind on the first day at March.

• Walking in the snow is beautiful at night. I love it when it snows at night.
• Winter doesn't seem to be over. It never came and now it's here when it's time for spring. Hmmmm.
• Leah was the runner up in the school spelling bee on Friday. She and another girl were in a stand off for 15 minutes! What a nail biter. She was so cute and brave, especially since her teacher forgot to give her all the words to study, and she was in a panic right before the bee. Darren and I were nervous wrecks in the back of the auditorium.
• I am giving up sugar (in a fashion) for Lent. We were in Salt Lake last weekend and decided to take the kids to the Cathedral of the Madeline, a gorgeous Catholic church with stunning stained-glass windows. They sermon was about Lent, and giving up bad habits while exercising restraint in all ways. This is something that struck a chord with me. I decided to give up sugar--all baked goods, ice cream and chocolate Monday through Saturday. I can have some hard candy or licorice. Then on Sunday I can have a dessert(s). Sunday is a day of desserts. So instead of eating random treats every day, I will look forward to a very nice desserts(s) on Sunday. I have gone three days so far without sugar, except for a couple of Red Vines. 
• Check out this guy. When were in SL we went to hear him sing with the Utah Symphony. He was awesome. He sings all the old Frank Sinatra tunes, and he sounds just like him!

Things we "GET" to do

Leah came to me the other day and said, "Look at this." She showed me a blank answer on a piece of homework.

Perpetually positive Mr. Olson

She said, "I asked Mr. Olson if I had to do this problem. I didn't think I should have to do it." 

"Well, what did he say?" I asked.

"He said I GET to do this problem, so I HAVE to do it," she sighed.

"No, you GET to!" I laughed.

She groaned.

The power of positive thinking. That is what has kept Mr. Olson teaching elementary school for 34 years.

Thanks Mr. Olson for your kind answer to an interminable question. Thank you for patience when those questions come, the ones you have answered several thousand times during your teaching career.  Thanks for building your students' self-esteem higher than any parent ever could. 

It's a good lesson for all of us. We "get" to do lots of things every day. If we "get" to do them instead of "have" to do them then they have the potential to become great things. If our daily tasks are a privilege to perform, then we perform them with more pride, skill and success. 

I don't know if I will be able to apply this principle to cleaning up dog throw up, or other detestable chores, but there are a thousand other tasks that I "get to do" today by virtue of the fact that I am alive in this world where each day is a gift. 

Mr. Olson has known this secret for lots of years. I am glad he was able to teach it to Leah, Nathan and Sammie, three of my children who GOT to be in his class during their 5th grade year. 

Poptarts for Breakfast

Today my kids had Poptarts for breakfast, and thus I am living true to the Slacker Mom title that I bequeathed upon myself many years ago.

Tuesday Feb. 7 To Do List: Be a Slacker Mom. CHECK. Success comes in many forms.

Explanation if there is one:  I didn't sleep well last night (sadly, not an uncommon thing) and so when the kids were wondering what to eat for breakfast, I was still foggy, groggy and not even upright. But I wasn't  groggy enough not to yell, "Just eat some Poptarts!" when they called upstairs to ask what they should eat. The word Poptarts knocked them flat, and I could hear nothing for a bit; I am sure because they were stunned into silence. Then there was a bit of rummaging around in the pantry, and then some paper rustling, and then a "Pop!" sound from the toaster (thus the "pop" in Poptart--clever).

Then I remembered my scruples. I shouted,  "At least have some milk with them--a whole glass!" And as an afterthought: "Some vitamins, too!"


High and Mighty Mom Mantra 10 years ago: Poptarts are strictly for an after school snack so as not to deprive the body of valuable nutrients before a school day. Having a high carb sugar rush first thing in the morning is not conducive to learning. I do not want my kids to tell their teachers they had Poptarts for breakfast. That looks poorly upon me as a mother. I will not be a white trash Mom. There will be no Poptarts or Frosted Flakes for breakfast and no Hamburger Helper for dinner. 


Back then I hadn't yet succumbed to being a Slacker Mom. I am proud to say, however, that despite the Poptart incident, Hamburger Helper has never taken up space on my pantry shelves. But my life is only half over. Who knows what the next 40 years might reduce me to.

I finally got up to go downstairs. Even Slacker Moms have to redeem themselves sometimes. I figured I had better make some nutritious lunches to counteract the negative affects of the Poptart breakfast.

As I thought about what might be the most healthy option for lunch, I thought about my father. He passed away years ago, but I wondered if he was watching me now, and if he was, I am sure he was laughing to beat the heavenly bands.

After all, he was the one who taught me to eat Cheerios with chunks of cheddar cheese floating around in 2% milk. But we usually only ate it for a bedtime snack.