St. Columba Bay

Last week at camp the campers "visited" St. Columba Bay. I learned that St. Columba does not have sand on it's shore, but rocks and pebbles.

 The kids made stepping stones for the children's garden at the church and then spent some time in reflection.  This is a pretty heavy concept for 4 year olds.  My friend A. ran this marketplace. She had each of the kids pick up two small stones. She played music and asked the kids to close their eyes and listen to the world around them. To see the water, to feel the wind and water on their face (she even spritzed them with one of those water bottles that have a fan attached), to listen to the music, to breathe in and out slowly.  Then she told the kids that when people come to St. Columba Bay that they would pick up two stones. One was to throw back in the water and it was the bad stuff...hurt feelings, a bad morning, mean things people may have said, or even something mean they may have done to someone else. The other stone was to keep and it was all the good things.  As an adult I found this really cool. Especially it happened on the same morning that I was really, really late to camp. So I threw my bad morning back into the "bay."  My group of 4 year olds all participated, but no one spoke up, nor were they expected to. But I still wonder how much they got out of it. Did they get the concept?

The next morning, Boogie went to St. Columba Bay with his group.  That night Hubby asked him what he did at camp. Boogs was all excited about St. Columba Bay. He excitedly told Hubby about the bay and throwing away the bad stuff and keeping the good stuff. Hubby asked what Boogie threw away.

Boogie's reply:  I threw away all my nights that I couldn't stay dry. I kept all my dry nights.

Wow! He really got the concept. A part of me was super proud that understood the concept and that he took it to heart. As teachers, that's what we want from our little students. That they walk away with new knowledge or new insight.  Another part of me was a little sad. I knew that his inability to stay dry at night was frustrating to me (especially when he leaked out of his pull-up and I was changing sheets in the dark in the middle of the night, though I always said, "It's okay, Sweetheart, we'll just take care of it."), but I had no idea that it was this frustrating to him, too!

The following day, I told A. about it and she told me that no one else shared in his group, but Boogie had volunteered information about his bad and good stones. She was fortunately able to give him some good counsel and tell him that his body will be ready when it will be ready and not to worry about it.

Well, I think between her good counsel and his ability to physically let go of his frustration was all Boogie needed. He's been dry most nights since then! I think we are dry 5 out of 7 nights! That's the most that he's had ever!  I'm trying not to get too excited or to pressure him. I'm trying to give him props and congratulate him when he's dry (without pressure) and to say, "Hey, no big deal on the mornings that he's not.  But to see that he's let go of his frustration is pretty wonderful!

Thanks, A. for all of your help!

ACK!

Last week I taught preschoolers at our Church's Bible Camp. It was a great experience. Unfortunately because of a terrible storm the night before, we couldn't begin on Monday because the church didn't have any electricity.  We started on Tuesday and nobody was expecting that we'd get our power back so quickly.

Let me start by saying that last week was a wonderful experience. I absolutely loved it and so did my kids. Boogs loved being in camp and Buggy was a hit in the nursery.

But, ACK!  I was so late the first day of camp. It was so bad. I just couldn't get moving in the morning and it was awful. I finally got us fed and dressed and still had time to barely make it to camp in time to realize that I could not find my keys. I looked everywhere and called my husband in a panic.  I didn't have anyone's number so it wasn't like I could call and tell them that I would still be there, but was running late. I think I had a panic attack as I ran around the house like a chicken with it's head cut off.  After saying a prayer to St. Anthony, the finder of lost things, I found my keys. (St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come around. What has been lost cannot be found.) Let me say that St. Anthony has saved me many a time!

I found my keys headed down the road and realized I left my lesson plan at home. I had to sacrifice an extra 5 minutes going back to the house to pick it up. I truly needed it, otherwise I would have ditched it. But it had my class list and the story lesson for the day. ARGHHHHHH!  Driving down the road I thought we might make it, then the closer we got to church realized that multiple lights were out and we had to do a 4-way stop at each intersection.  I might it to camp 5 minutes after the day was supposed to start. Not only that I still had to put Buggy in the nursery with all of her stuff and check her in and put her in a new environment without any prep. Thank God she's the second baby and goes with the flow!  I also had to walk Boogie to his class and get him settled. Of course as I pull into the lot, the director calls and because I'm fumbling with everything I accidentally hang up on her. I quickly call her back and she is very annoyed and rightfully so!  I'm late and she doesn't know where I am.  And I'm not a little bit late, I'm probably 20 minutes late, because of course I should be there at least 15 minutes before the campers arrive.  That's BAD!  Fortunately, when I ran into her in the hall on the way to my class she was pleasant and nice. I think she was just relieved that I showed up!  I walk into my room and my fabulous teenage helpers (which include the director's daughter!) have already started circle time and getting to know the kids and their names. They're singing and the kids have no idea that I'm way behind. There is a parent there and I'm mortified. I apologize and she's so cool and doesn't give me a hard time.

My teenage helpers tell me to relax and they truly do have it under control. I put away my stuff, take a deep breath, look over the plan one more time and ease into their circle time. The rest of the day went well and the rest of the week even better!  It was a great camp experience, minus the getting there on time part on the first day.

The worst part is that when I spoke to Hubby later in the day he told me he's pretty sure he got a call from the director looking for me. His phone rang, he didn't recognize the number, but answered anyway.  He heard someone say to someone else in a panicked voice, "I can't talk to you right now! I have a teacher who hasn't shown up and we don't know where she is!" He said, "hello" a few times, but the director was so busy that she didn't realize he had picked up and ended up hanging up without speaking to him. Probably about the same time I called to say I was there in the parking lot.

I.am.absolutely.mortified!  I was debating about volunteering next year, but at this rate, I'm too embarrassed to offer my services because I think they think I'm a huge flake!  As you can see this blog is aptly named. I am truly the epitome of the discombobulated mommy. *sigh*

St. Patrick's Day

Hello and Happy St. Patrick's Day! Are you wearing green today? My family is! Why? Because I did the laundry late last night and made sure that everyone had something green to wear. You might think this is overboard, but as a kid I was always pinched on St. Patrick's Day for not wearing green. Do kids still do that these days? My husband chuckled at me, this morning, when I told him how I wouldn't allow my children to get pinched for not wearing green. He thinks no one does that anymore...and he doesn't remember that happening in elementary school. I do, and I have the  "Gotta wear green on St. Patrick's Day" paranoia to prove it.  For everyone else, it's fun...for me it's survival. NO PINCHING!

You would think that since my brother was born on St. Patrick's Day that someone would remember to wear green, but alas no one did and I was pinched every year from 3rd grade to Middle School. It was always on the arm and it was always more than once!  I think my mom being Asian had something to do with the fact that this was not on her list of priorities (having her kids wear green on St. Patrick's Day). As she says, "I don't understand your American jokes." Not so much a joke, but a tradition.  However, her never remembering to put us in green has now made me paranoid about having something green to wear on St. Patty's Day...to the point that if I am going through my closet to get rid of old clothes, I'll make sure that I have something green to wear...even if I'm going through the clothes mid-summer or mid-winter. Go figure!

So, Happy St. Patrick's Day. Wear green! and I hope you find your pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!

p.s. Happy 30th Birthday, Little Brother!