Start your morning with a BANG

A few days ago, as I was getting ready to walk out the door to go to work, I hear my daughter's voice calling from her room. "Mom! Can you come here for a minute?" I'm thinking..."What could be so important that you can't come out of your room?" So I put down my coffee, car keys, lunchbox and huge bag that I carry back and forth to school every day and head for the back of the house. She cracks her door. "What's wrong?" I ask. She's crying....and then I see her hair...bangs choppy and askew. "I tried to trim my bangs and I didn't think I was getting them too short but LOOK AT THEM!!!" she wailed. This is where my supermom powers kick in. She's lucky she caught me before I left. Since I started teaching in the neighboring district, I have to leave the house earlier than anyone else. Dad is now in charge of getting them to school. It should be easy, since he goes there anyway (he teaches math at the high school). But according to Parker, he's the one who has to keep an eye on the clock and yell at Dad when it's time to go. Anyway...a few more seconds and Hillary would have had to either figure this out on her own or follow her Dad's suggestion to wear a doo-rag wrapped around her head. Thinking fast I pulled down more hair and trimmed it to give her a little more bang with a little less chop. It wasn't perfect, but she thought it was great. One catastrophe out of the way, and it's not even 7:20.
Now that Hillary is older, there is so much she doesn't need me for. It's nice to know that I can still solve a crisis for her now and then. If only they were all that easy.

Where have all the Experts gone?

From the moment of conception, there are experts everywhere...telling you what to expect, how to feel, what to think, and how heavenly it is to be a parent. Babies are cute. Babies are funny. People will smile politely and look interested as you blather on about how the baby made the funniest face in the bathtub last night, or pooped on your husband when he tried to change the diaper. Entire sections of the bookstore are devoted to books that give you advice. Feed them this. Teach them that. No TV before the age of 2 (except for Baby Einstein of course!). There are charts broken down by age so you can map out where your genius is on the curve of normal. Websites, blogs, your pediatritian, your mother, your husbands mother, TV talk shows... From breastfeeding to starting Kindergarten, you're pretty much covered.
But once the baby fat starts to melt and your toddler starts to tower over you, the sea of information becomes a puddle (a muddy one at that). At least this is how it's been for me. Where is the book titled "What to expect when your child enters middle school"? Sure, there are experts at how to deal with PROBLEMS with older children. Drugs, sex, and rock n roll (all that jazz). But where are the cutsie, uplifting stories about 6th grade sons and 10th grade daughters? OF COURSE I loved their baby days and sometimes wish I could go back in time and kiss that soft baby cheek and dress them in clothes I chose. But this is a pretty great stage too! My children are smart and beautiful and articulate, and can get themselves breakfast and brush their teeth without me telling them to. (OK so maybe I still have to remind Parker about that once in a while!) They tell me stories about their day. They show kindness to others and are sometimes unselfish and grown-up. We can watch the same TV shows. I LOVE being their mom right now, just like this. When I read a poem Hillary has written, or watch Parker play football with the neighbor boys, I am overwhelmed with pride and I wonder "How did such amazing people come out of me?" Maybe I'm doing okay...maybe I don't need an expert after all.