"You Are Not The Teacher"

My little girl adores her preschool teachers. And they are wonderful people. I've always had a lot of respect for teachers. Anyone who can corral a number of kids, get them to listen, learn and cooperate and still be sane at the end of the day when they go home to their own family, has earned my respect.

That being said, I am not hurt when my daughter (at 2 1/2) says to me, "You are not the teacher." True, I am not THE teacher. In addition to her preschool teachers, her dad and I are two of many people who "teach" her.  Her grandparents teach her about letters, how to spell, ride a bike, fold laundry and songs and games from our childhood, forgotten for so many years, but important once again. Her friends teach her games and how to share (we're still working on this one). Our families teaches her love and affection by their actions. Her teachers are everywhere- in the books she reads, the movies she watches, the examples set by those around her.

folding laundry with her Yaya

We reiterate a lot of those lessons at home. We teach her manners. We have taught her colors, shapes, animals, safe touches, and most recently, to read. Her Daddy taught her how to snowshoe and about her teeth. I teach her about cutting, drawing and painting. We teach her eveything we know- how to set and clear the table, how to get dressed and make good choices when choosing weather appropriate clothes. How to love.

This ensemble is not so appropriate for the snowy winter day she chose to wear it on.

We teach her how to cook and stir and be careful of hot pans (a lesson recently learned while she was helping make dinner). We teach her how to give, to volunteer, to enjoy life. We teach her to be thankful, to pray and to listen.




She is an observant child, our daughter. I often watch her watching others, wondering what she is thinking, trying not to overanalyze her curious expressions. She is honest and open (one of the many perks of this age) and is not afraid to tell me what she is thinking.

 

 

But most recently, she has started adding to her comment "I am the teacher."  I am guessing this is something she hears at school and is repeating, but I had a profound moment today where I realized how very true that statement is.  She has taught me so much since those moments she was placed in my arms. She has taught me things that cannot be learned from books or school. Like how much you can love. And just how fragile life is. She has taught me to appreciate the NOW because these moments right now will never be again. She has taught me that the best laid plans can change in an instant (because of an injury, a sick child or the words "I have to go potty!!!!"). She has taught me to be more flexible. She has taught me that doing things together (although not the way I had intended) can sometimes be more fun! And that is ok to relax and let my inner control freak get trampled upon from time to time. She has taught me that although we all mistakes. She has reminded me how much I love her dad and that our time together is important too. (We often race to see who can hug his first when he arrives home from work). She has taught me that I am really a better person when I am well rested. She has taught me to have patience. And to respect her opinion and occasionally indulge her, within limits, of course...

 

She wanted so badly to sleep next to her new luggage she got from friends!

Although not the photo I was going for, "I want to stand like this, Mama!" she proclaimed. I love it.



Three pieces of pie...ok (it was an All U Can Eat pie buffet!)

My little girl is right; she really is the teacher...

~Angela

Family Snowshoeing Adventures

Our little girl got snowshoes from Santa this year and we took advantage of the (small amount of) snow that we have this winter to get out as a family.

 We are lucky to have trails behind our house we can explore...

A wipeout was really just an opportunity to eat snow!

 No outdoor winter activity is complete without hot cocoa!

I loved this day!

~Angela

My Face Tells the Story



Maybe it is because I recently had another birthday. Not a milestone birthday, but I'm still another year older. Maybe I'm just a little vain. In either case, I looked at myself in the mirror recently. Not just the "does my hair look ok" or "does this dress make my butt look big" or "do I have on way too much makeup" quick glance, but I took a good long, close look at myself. Something I don’t do often. And I was thinking to myself: Here I am. At 31.

My body has changed considerably since carrying my baby inside of me a few years ago. My hair's texture has too. It is my natural color and I've accepted that. I don’t spend hours each day trying to style my hair in a way it doesn’t naturally want to as I realized there are better ways to spend that time.

And my face...it's older. The dark circles are there from staying up too late: cleaning, rocking my little girl, reading books, blogging, creating things, spending time with my husband, and having those incredible conversations that seems so much more apt to happen in the hours long after you should have been asleep.

The creases (ok, the wrinkles) are there and there to stay. When exactly did that happen? Yes, I noticed them a few years ago when I traded in my tanning lotions for anti-aging creams with SPF... But this time I noticed a few more...the crease wrinkle in my forehead that is even more prominent when I worry, am running hard, thinking hard. The creases at the corners of my mouth that are ever present when I think, read or type...my face showing the emotion of me just being.  And my eyes. The creases there (sometimes called crow's feet) that I refer to as my "story lines."  They tell the story of my life. The creases are there when I smile those big smiles that are reserved for those BIG moments in life and when I laugh, which I do often. The creases are also there when I'm stressed, feel pain and sadness, and when I am overcome with compassion for others. I am terrible at hiding my feelings. I always have been. My face tells the story of exactly what I am thinking and feeling at any moment in time. I am animated when I speak, sing and laugh.  Often, I come across a photograph that has been taken of me and feel the expression that can be seen on my face. My face tells the story of all of those moments. And I would not trade those creases for life experiences. I like my story.



via Real Simple

~Angela

Music to soothe the soul

In one weeks time, my only grandma and both of my husband's grandmas have been in the hospital. It's been a time of prayer and relying on family for support, updates and hope for the best.
On a visit to the mayo clinic to see my grandma with my family, we stopped at the piano in the lobby to play the piano and sing. We are all terrible singers (it must be genetic) but this was such a fun family memory for me.

- Angela

Birthday sushi

Sushi is one of my favorite foods so our family day started with a (shrimp tempura, avocado and eel) sushi lunch to celebrate my birthday!












Bundle enjoying her egg drop soup.




More food pics- another fave of
mine -pad Thai.
My husband was a part of the family day, he was the guy behind the camera.
~Angela
Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A year in review: 2012- The year I almost gave up blogging

2012 was the year I almost gave up blogging.

I had someone I considered a friend say some very hurtful things to me, among them, that "it is very hypocritical of me to blog about a simple life when not everything I do is simple." hmm... though provoking... and yes, somewhat true. Not everything in my life is simple. Obviously. I live in a face paced, first world country. I work full time in a job that is constantly changing. I am a mom of a very busy, very smart toddler because we spend large amounts of time playing and learning together. We own a business. I am slightly obsessed with having my house organized which often creates extra stress. All of our family and many of our friends live far away, yet we manage to stay in contact with them. We travel often.  I have more hobbies than I really should. I enjoy technology and try struggle to keep up with how quickly it changes. I often overschedule myself.

I am not trying to falsely portray that my life is as simple as it could get or perfect. It's not. I do not try to falsely portray anything about my life. But I blog because I like to keep track of our journey in this life, the same reason I scrapbook. I also get a lot of ideas from other blogs and enjoy sharing with those who are interested in our lives what we are up to- whether it be my simple (or simple-intended) DIY projects for gifts and home décor, the simple unexpected gifts that nature gives us and my attempt as a friend, a wife, a mom to create memories and make people's lives better.

But I kept on blogging and I am glad I did...I documented the ways we have simplified our life, our races, craft projects and traditions.  My posts became more about crafts/projects and less personal after I felt like I was being judged so intensely. I stopped promoting all my blog posts on Facebook.  I learned more about the technology and web coding behind blogging (definitely NOT simple). I improved the quality of my photos.

I kept blogging more out of spite because I wasn't going to let someone bully me into giving up something I enjoy. Like the time my high school art teacher told me I had no talent. After shedding many tears, I tried harder and harder. I won state art competitions and went on to college to obtain a degree in art. Or the time an ex-boyfriend told me I could not possibly skate in an inline marathon with the little training I did and I was fat and out of shape, I funneled that anger into energy that led me to the fastest race I'd ever done. I could certainly do with less negativity in general, but that is not realistic. People will not always like me, agree with me or say nice things. I am not responsible for their actions, but I am responsible for how I react to them.

I think often people say hurtful things because they are not happy themselves. They compare their lives to others. I don't do that. I am content with who I am as a person, trying to be the best mom/friend/wife/employee/neighbor/member of society that I can be. I am not saying it is easy. It is a lifelong goal that I am constantly working towards.  I have feelings. I wish I could say that I did not care what other people think. That would be a lie. I do care. But I truly believe a positive attitude wins in almost any situation. And that is a simple concept that is hard to be taught.

~Angela

Here are my 3 favorite blog posts of 2012:

1. I Know What it Means to Love

2. Our 7th Wedding Anniversary that did not go as planned (told you my life was not perfect!)

3. This is a home where a child lives

Using an old ladder to display child's artwork

My daughter makes a lot of art projects. She creates at school and we love to create together at home, so I am always looking for new ways to display some of her masterpieces.

 

I found this beauty at a garage sale and it is rustic (as in, I would not climb on it).

 I bought these rings and punched holes in her artowrk to hang them from the rungs

~Angela