Times are A-Changin'...

…and this was truly evident last night as I spent the hours scrapbooking.

I came upon the photos I had taken of Nicholas in his Halloween costume last year: a character from a horror movie he’s never even seen nor has a desire to. This year he is portraying an Ohio State Fan; well that’s original now, isn't it?

More significantly as a mark of transformation is not WHAT he chose to be but the time and dedication we launched with each and every costume he displayed.

From the time he could articulate his wants and needs Mother and son spent an exorbitant amount of time in October searching for the ‘perfect’ attire. Most often this required me manufacturing his get-ups. What cherished moments we experienced entering the fabric store. We peeked through endless pattern books to generate ideas and choose the material as well as all the flawless accessories. How I adored the time spent together as Nicholas would touch the material to his cheek to check for softness to match the gentleness left in my heart. When I sewed he sat upon my lap and used his tiny hands to guide the material through the machine shouting with glee as we approached the finish of each dressing.

As you stroll through just a spattering of costumes you’ll not only find visual support that times have been altered, but reinforcement within the heart of a mom. Halloween was a treasured time when Mother and son exchanged thoughts and ideals, wishes and fun through a body covering.

Fireman Nicholas...his Sit and Spin was his fire truck.

Nicholas wanted to be Little Foot the dinosaur so this was our version.

Buzz Light Year...to infinity and beyond...

 

This was our favorite..Ice Dragon~



Arrghhh, Mighty Pirate....



Count Dracula...

He’s since given up homemade costumes and chosen the likes of Harry Potter and Scream, but how I would love for him to ask me to create more memories through a Halloween outfit.

Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them. ~Marcel Proust

Remember when....

“Remember when…”

I catch myself saying that phrase quite frequently as of late: Remember when we all use to try out and make our school sports team just for the fun of it? Remember when we were able to leave our doors unlocked when we left the house or even at night while sleeping? Remember when our world was not darkened by hatred and violence? I know you’re all shaking your head in agreement.

I recall my grandparents and parents speaking the same exact utterances and viewed it as a group of words that old people muttered as I grasped to appreciate the essence of comparing a new-fangled world with the previous outworn planet. I designated the expression as insignificant to wonder or ponder.

But more specifically and closer to heart, I stumble upon my muttering …Remember when teaching use to be fun?

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the relationship with my students-the opportunity to share a laugh or smile at their innocence when they remark about personal experiences. I definitely laugh at their quips of life as well as take pleasure in the instances I’m privileged to observe with their learning and discovery.

But when did the amusement fade away?

The question actually has quite a simple answer, or perhaps I believe it’s uncomplicated. Our ‘Government’ and ‘Powers to be’ decided that children need to be taught what to think, instead of how to think. They are skilled at reading questions and selecting a bubble to shade.

Children’s learning now requires rigid and staunch guidelines that leave little room for enjoyment or pleasure on both accounts of teacher and student. If there is delight within a classroom teachers need to fill out a paper ten times over to justify their every movement and thought, so rather than teachers creating, we’ve become robotic and mundane in our actions.

We meet to talk about our meeting and talk about our thinking. We give explanation and rationale to each and every deed. We gather to fill out papers as well as validate our accomplishments. We convene, assemble and gather…

Remember when teaching use to be fun…?

Hey, it's me, Angel-Kitty!

Hey, it’s me Angel-Kitty!

Heavens to Betsy, you will never believe what happened at our house this morning.

…and it was ALL Hurricanes’ fault!

Seriously, it was-I’m not lyin’ so here’s what went down…

Like every morning, Hurricane and I were summoned to the back door to be given our ‘guilt treats’. I call them that since I know we obtain these delicacies as a result of our humans feeling bad they leave us by ourselves to go do whatever it is they do. They think we’re sad and lonely, blah, blah, blah…but little do they know we perform our happy dance once they pull out of the driveway.

Anyway, true to form Hurricane sat patiently and to anyone watching will display those sad puppy dog eyes cocking his head ever so slightly. Oh PUH-lease…if they only saw him boogie down once they’ve left the vicinity. In any case, the alarm is set and the silence settles.

But ahhh, this day was a bit unusual! I was bored so I sauntered casually into the hallway where Hurricane was dozing. I positioned myself whisker to whisker gazing into his eyes just daring my brother to give chase.

…and we’re off! …up the stairs (I cheated, I scurried through the railings; a benefit of being small!) in the guest room, under the bed, to the TV room-behind the couch, then on the couch! “Awww, I’m telling Hurricane. You are NOT allowed on the sofa!” Next, I head into the closet, under the clothes, through the racks, on the bed and under the bed, down the hallway and down the stairs with my lovely mane blowing in the wind.

PHEW!!! I thought I had escaped when he bounded down the last five steps- “Crap, I think I’m a goner!” However, I find respite on the dining room table-WHEW! I’m safe now; deep breath!

As I take a break I take a momentary look out the window. Ohhh, look at those pretty red and blue glowing lights! Ummm-hey that nice looking man in the uniform is looking intently at our house; hey, what’s he doing ringing our doorbell?

“See, Hurricane? I knew you were in trouble for climbing on the furniture!” Hurricane is so nervous at the sound of the ding-dong his shrill bark raised my hackles although I knew that kind policeman would help me.

All of a sudden, I see Dad pull up in his car and talk to the pleasant officer. When he turns to walk toward the house he has his mad face on; UH--OH! He storms in and shouts, “which one of you set off the alarm?!”

I think I’ll go upstairs now and pretend I’m asleep…

Happy New Year!?

Happy New Year!

You’re right, it isn’t even November yet so what am I doing mentioning the new year?

Well, I have to come clean- the past few months have been anything but suitable regarding the economy, the outlook of the American people, the approach of my job and the pressure permeating my soul that more often than not I could pay no heed to however, I haven’t been successful as of late in brushing aside the pessimism enveloping me.

As well, I’ve abandoned consistent activities that bring peace of mind: writing particularly on my blog, allowing negativity to overtake my thoughts and steal the joy I desperately seek in the minuscule.

More so, I’ve busied my days with insignificant tasks to avoid thinking and to distance the world and those in it, all the same it’s grown old and impersonal.

Therefore, I thought I’d instigate the ideology and optimism, the cheerfulness and hopefulness that one tends to grasp when the proverbial door closes as another one opens. In my mind, the tiny fuses are anointed as the fireworks burst; streamers spout as resolve to begin anew resonates within.

So on this day, October 15, I bid myself and YOU if appropriate a Happy New Year!

“The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year.

It is that we should have a new soul. “

By G.K. Chesterson