The Finishing Fairy

Is there a Finishing Fairy that works for other people that I don't know about?? If so, I need his or her number.

You know, someone who will FINISH the dishes and not leave one coffee cup and a fork in the sink after loading "all" the dishes after dinner;

Someone who will FINISH making the bed by actually putting the pillows back on the bed after neatly smoothing out the sheets & comforter;

Someone who will FINISH taking the trash cans all the way back behind the gate after the trash men come as opposed to leaving them about 4 feet from that dreaded gate latch;

Someone who will FINISH hanging their towel back on the towel bar after their shower as opposed to leaving it on the sink which just happens to be a whopping 2 feet from said towel bar;

Someone who will FINISH that terrible chore of rinsing their toothpaste spit out of the sink before they walk away;

Someone who, after eating a bag of pretzels (or equally crumbly item) in the living room will FINISH cleaning up the huge mess of crumbs left all over the coffee table and floor;

Someone who before tossing their socks and undies in the dirty clothes will FINISH unballing them from that neat little pingpong sized ball they end up in while taking them off their body...anybody???

Anybody there to FINISH up ANY of that stuff?

Have I become the Finishing Fairy? Clearly we all know the answer to that. So, I know a few people who may read this and say "picky, picky, picky...you should be GLAD that they load ANY dishes or even go to the trouble of even pulling that sheet up since they are getting right back in that bed a little later that night. The trash can made it THAT far back? You mean the towel wasn't left on the FLOOR? They BRUSH their teeth without you telling them? Pretzels...try ice cream! They KNOW what a dirty clothes basket is?" Well folks, here's my reply to that---

How 'bout I take you HALF WAY to piano lessons or swimming? Maybe you'd like that meatloaf minus the meat? What about me washing your clothes and putting them in your drawer wet? How's about I clean that toilet with softscrub, but don't rinse the soap off? Maybe I'll just do PART of the bills this month? Plan vacation....hmmm, sorrry, only planned for ONE. Birthday CAKE on your birthday--wups! Can you stop your day and pick me up--I'm stranded cause I didn't put gas in my car.

I mean REALLY??? What on earth do people think we Finishing Fairies do all day long? As "picky" as one might think some of this is, I bet if one counted the time it took to FINISH some of those things, they would see a. why a Finishing Fairy is needed in the first place, and b. that it would be very simple and easy to FIRE the Finishing Fairy, thereby freeing up time for other things. Finishing Fairies are nothing more than fairies with manners...a little respect, a nod for a job well done. Not an earth shattering, change the world job, just a little spit cleaned out of the sink so the next person doesn't have to look at it. A simple "I care enough that you are washing, drying and folding my clothes that I'll not also have you spend 15 minutes unballing every sock, underwear and shirt too".

I say we start a new campaign--"Finishing Fairies Hired, Tired and FIRED"

Chicken Salad

Death, dying, getting old--it's all about Chicken Salad.

I've decided to "cook" at home more, instead of going out to eat so often. Leftovers are nice, but revamping them is even better. Today I decided to make Chicken Salad out of the leftover grilled chicken. While making that chicken salad I got to thinking...no one under the age of 30, and often times 40, really likes Chicken Salad. Really--they don't. I didn't. Chicken Salad is for "old people". Why is that? Why is Chicken Salad something that every old person I know likes?

While I was making Chicken Salad today, something really odd happened...I started getting calls about people dying. No kidding. One of my oldest friends emailed to say she was on her way here from Atlanta--her father-in-law had passed away yesterday; a friend here in town called--her mother-in-law passed away this morning; I got a facebook message--our neighbor from our old neighborhood died today. All the while, I'm making "old people" Chicken Salad.

I was only a somewhat removed acquaintance of one of these people, but I know some of all their families or friends. I know a little about their lives. I know they meant a lot to a lot of people. But I don't know what all of them liked, disliked--but I bet they liked Chicken Salad. Making my Chicken Salad took on a whole new meaning. It became a tribute of sorts. A tribute to families who had lost someone they love, a tribute to a life well-lived, a tribute to a person who would be the missing link now in many circles...my Chicken Salad became something special. Something more than just "something old people eat".

It became somewhat of a comfort food, while still being a sad reminder of getting old. It became a reminder that I'd better make the best Chicken Salad I could, cause tomorrow I may not be able to make it better. It became a reminder that I should share that Chicken Salad with someone...anyone, because other people are the greatest gifts we have and sharing with others is the greatest gift we can give. It became something that I should appreciate and enjoy to the fullest, as I should each and every day of life.

While I'm sure this is an odd correlation, I don't think I'll ever look at (or eat!) Chicken Salad the same way again. I think I'll order it proudly...and often. I'll eat it with vim and vigor. And I'll remember all those "old people" had wonderful lives with wonderful people, were greatly loved, loved greatly and probably liked Chicken Salad.

39 Hours and counting

How can the last 21--no TWENTY TWO years have gone by so fast? Honestly. It has just hit me while sitting here at 3:30 in the morning as thoughts of my daughters wedding in 39 hours awaken me. I have had little bouts of tears, thinking about her "leaving" us. I have had solemn moments of wondering if she'll be okay. I've thought about seeing her walk down that aisle with her dad. I've thought about seeing all our family and friends who we love so dearly when I enter the church. I've thought about parties, and invitations, and flowers, and clothing and food and decorations. Extra socks, programs, guestbooks, transportation, makeup, hair, appointments, schedules and photographers...but the thing I can't quite quit thinking about is something I saw a couple nights ago.

We were watching home movies from about fifteen years ago. My daughter was turning seven I think. I sat still that night and watched that video--I watched her open her birthday gifts, I watched her take care of her little brother, I watched her admire her older brother, I watched her excitement opening her gifts, I watched her hug me while I was filming all this and then I watched her open a card from her grandparents...

One of her granddads loved teasing her when she was little about "Dancing Goat". I'm not quite sure how all that started but, nonetheless she wasn't extremely fond of it. On this particular birthday she opened a "special" certificate from him that referenced the Dancing Goat. She looked at it with exasperation and promptly went over and gave that particular grandfather the "what for". We played it back three times to try and figure out exactly what she was saying and still couldn't get it! But by the end of her tongue-lashing (she was smiling the whole time) everyone was laughing, including Big Pa. She was praised for being such a good sport and she accepted that praise with the graciousness of a person far older than her seven years.

This same girl will be getting married in about 39 hours. She has been a true source of pride and joy for the last 22 years. She has been loving, kind and thoughtful the last 22 years. She has worked hard at every single thing she decided to do for the last 22 years. She has earned respect, admiration, friendship and true love over the last 22 years. She has been beautiful inside and out for the last 22 years. She has read, created, learned, experienced and soaked in as much life as possible for the last 22 years. She has done that with dignity, pride, respect and endless grace for the last 22 years. For the last 22 years, she has added countless treasured moments, years of fun, and unending love to the lives of her siblings and her father and me.

I watched that video and could have sworn that it had just happened. I had a true "rush" of memories flood my thoughts. It has made me feel somewhat helpless, as if her life is happening too fast. Just like mine, it is. So for the next 39 hours or so, I'm going to devote every minute I can in enjoying one of the most extraordinary blessings God has bestowed upon me for the last 22 years-my child.

Maybe He'll be kind enough to slow those 39 hours down a bit...or maybe He's already taught me the value of that time and now it's up to me to do my best to live these next 39 hours to the fullest. I will.

Out of the mouths of Babes...and wonderful Daughters

I went to my daughters wedding website just now. Just as a matter of curiousity I clicked on the Guest Book page. This is exactly what I read:

"OMfreakinG! I am so excited and I have a great summer ahead of me! Like my sisters wedding, ( and I can't wait to see everybody who is coming for that matter! We are going to party hardy all ight long!!) the pool, the lake, my birthday, and my trip to Dallas to see Aunt Tess and Uncle Fred! Now I officially get to say Hip Hip freakin hurray! My bridesmaid dress finally fit today and that was the fifth time I went to try it on! By the way for those of you who know my dads dad keep him in your prayers because he had s pacemaker put in yesterday. Thanks to those who are praying for him. And, yes I know this is gonna sound super dramatic and cheesy but thanks to those who are (well iI don't wanna say supporting but I'm gonna say it anyway!) Thanks to those who have supported our family and have kept us in your prayers. One last thing before I go. Sam you are a beautiful, wonderful, amazingly talented, funny,(sometimes!) smart, and most time the most happiest big sister on this planet and you are like more then a sister your my BFF. Yes, I know I can be annoying around you and Mike but it's because I don't want you to leave me but I guess I will have to let you go. You picked a great guy and a great family and I am Grateful to have Mike as a brother! I love you with all my heart! Best wishes!"

I am blessed.

Thank You

Dear Jarman folks,

I just want to thank everyone at Jarman--new, old, young, “seasoned” (you know who you are!), teachers, support staff, building people…the whole lot of you—for doing your jobs every day. My family has benefitted from all of your efforts for years. All four of our children have wonderful memories of their time at Jarman, they have all loved being there, been loved while they were there and, most importantly they were all well-educated there.

To the teachers, I can’t thank you enough for the endless hours of effort that goes into your work…not just for my child, but for all the children. I can’t imagine doing your job every day, and I know some days you can’t either! Please remember that it still remains a very important job. I know that is very hard for some of you who have seen such changes over the last 10-20 years…it is hard for me too. Sadly, schools are now often expected to be not only the child’s teacher, but the child’s disciplinarian, manners coach and moral compass—an impossible task in addition to educating. Please know that there are still a few parents left out here who would prefer to do that work at home and leave the teaching to the schools. And, we truly appreciate you doing just that—teaching our kids.

To all the support staff…you truly make it run like clockwork at Jarman. It’s so nice to go back each year and see the same number of people doing the same work and making the work look easy. I know it’s not. Thank you for not hanging up on me when I call the school! Thank you for letting me hang over that counter and vent, and thank you for at least talking about me later behind my back!!! You guys always put a smile on my face and made me feel lucky to live where I do and know the great people I’ve been fortunate enough to meet at Jarman.

To all my kids teachers and those near and dear to the Biddicks—we have always loved that you love our kids (or faked it well!), putting up with them (and us) and encouraging our family throughout the years. Each and every one of you have played an integral part in my kids successes and helped them to learn how to better handle their failures. The unending patience (and sometimes your ending patience!), smiles, words of wisdom, care, concern and knowledge you shared will continue to be immeasurable in all our lives.

Speaking personally, to all of you I have known and encountered over the last 19 years--I have grown tremendously not only as a person, but especially as a mom because of you. I have become a better mom—truly the most important job I believe--thanks to many of you. I have become a more patient person thanks to many of you. I have learned what to care a lot more about and what to care a little less about, thanks to many of you. I have experienced some of my very best, most memorable life “moments” with you. And you allowed me to share some less-than-stellar moments with you. I have been so incredibly blessed to be a part of the Jarman family for the last 19 years. I will miss it terribly and fully intend on hanging over Carolyn’s desk some next year griping about something stupid my kids have done.

I love you all and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

With sincerest thanks,

Stephanie

(and I’m sure my less-than-wordy family!)

There's this Woman I Know

There's this woman I know who is ....


Amazing, wonderful, awesome, fantastic, outstanding, super...??? No, not really. We hear those words all the time. Honestly...do we really pay attention to those superlatives? I think not.

This woman is interesting. She is smart. She is kind. She is hysterical. She has thousands of children. She has no children. She is respected. She is tough. She is tender. She is unique. She is clever. She is sneaky. She is good-hearted. She is wise. She is active. She is tired. She is tenacious. She is unwavering. She is fair. She is a wife. She is a daughter. She is an aunt. She is a boss. She is an employee. She is a leader. She is memorable. This woman is a principal.

Being an elementary school principal is a special job in it's own right. But take an extraordinary person and put them in that job and you have something beyond simply "special". You have kids and parents who feel secure. You have kids and parents who learn. You have ingenious solutions to seemingly unsolvable problems. You have kids who learn to lead by example. You have an advocate insistent on the very best for ALL "her kids". You have kids learning to be ambassadors of good stewardship, honesty, integrity, intellect, kindness. You have parents and kids learning to cooperate in order to achieve goals. You have fun times and fond memories. You have nothing short of a host of angels helping to lift you and your child up to the highest levels of success. And when there are failures, disappointments or struggles, you have a shoulder upon which you and your child may cry. You have an advisor, a coach, a counselor and sometimes a referee.

This woman is the only elementary principal my children have ever known. For some kids she is their principal for all years, for others only part of a single year. But every year, this woman knows every childs name...not by the end of the year...by the beginning of the year. She knows their strengths, she knows their weaknesses. She knows their parents. She knows where they are from. She knows each and every child's "story". She knows your child and she knows mine.

And throughout the last nineteen years, this woman I know has become an integral, important, meaningful part of our family's story...more importantly, this woman, she is our friend.
Thank you Patti.

BLACK NAVIGATOR LADY

First of all, please know that this is simply a venting…I have read the newsletter pleas, etc., etc., and I know there truly is nothing you guys haven’t done already to encourage parents to drop their kids off in an appropriate “driving” manner!

Ok, so I decided it would be a “good idea” to take Anne to school today instead of riding the bus…

What on earth was I thinking?

I have never seen such crappy displays of A. rude driving behavior, or B. idiotic, ignorance behind some very nice vehicles, or C. just s**t-heads for adults/parents. (did I mention that I wanted to vent…and not in such a “PC” manner?)

I’m pulling up to Jarman from the east since we’d dropped off some stuff at a friend’s house this morning. I get in the little drop-off-your-kid-at-the-curb car line on the right side of the road and pretty soon this big-ass black truck drives by on my left. I think, no problem…the guy needs to get through to Memorial…he’s off to work. (clearly he’s late, but he’s off to work nonetheless). But no…he pulls around the cars in line into the parking lot. “No problem”, I say to myself. Surely he’s pulling into the parking area. Nope, not that either, he pulls around and cuts off a car about six cars in front of me in the drop-off-your-kid-at-the-curb car line and goes about his merry way taking his precious child up to the little drop-off-your-kid-at-the-curb car line in a very rude, but expedient fashion. Ok, maybe I would have wanted to get that kid dropped off faster too.

Anne is yelling, “HEY…HE’S NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT”! Well, Anne he’s probably in a hurry and let’s just let it go.

About that time, Black Navigator Lady pulls up to my left. Again I am naïve enough to think, “well she just needs on through here, but I’m not pulling over because I’m only about three or four car lengths from being able to turn into this god-forsaken parking lot and she can get through the middle to get past on her way to her ever-important job that helps her afford this nice big shiny Black Navigator”. So I stay my course in my scratched up silvery gray land yacht. As she inches through, it becomes painfully clear that she is, in fact not inching through, but instead inching (and more like lurching) into my silvery gray land yacht. Now, I realize that at one time I thought I had the fanciest car in south Tulsa. I had moved up from a blue Dodge Caravan with 158,000 miles on it to a Eggplant Purple Suburban extra long model, to now the ever-sporty silvery gray Suburban XLT with 4WD. Did Black Navigator Lady not know this? Did she not see me? Well of course Black Navigator Lady saw me…how could you not—I’m in the land yacht for pete’s sake!

Black Navigator Lady has no turn signal on indicating that this is the very first day she’s ever done this and “oops” she’s made a mistake and just missed the fact that there were eight or nine cars in the little drop-off-your-kid-at-the-curb car line and now she’s stuck and really, really sorry and could we please let her and her nice big shiny Black Navigator in to the drop-off-your-kid-at-the-curb car line now. Nope, by gosh, Black Navigator Lady has done this all intentionally and does not mind one bit if she hits the front driver’s side of my silvery gray land yacht. This is the point at which things take a turn in the silvery gray land yacht of mine. Anne is yelling, “HEY…THERE’S ANOTHER ONE…THEY ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT”! And, I, being of sound mind and having a few years of driving/parental/adult/good-decision-making experience under my belt calmly say, “nope she’s not” as I pull forward in an attempt to signal to Black Navigator Lady to move on down the road with her nice big shiny Black Navigator. Just as I pull forward, Black Navigator Lady makes a nice angular move in front of me all the while blocking all the traffic that truly is trying to get east and west on the through street.

At the first possible moment she can, Black Navigator Lady whips in front of my tiny little silvery gray land yacht with her kid bouncing around unbelted. We all stop and I am about 5 seconds from getting out of my car and “politely” walking up to tap on Black Navigator Lady’s window and explain to her how this whole system works. Instead I choose a nice little horn honk. That didn’t seem to make me feel better so I ever-so-quietly murmured the phrase, “bitch” under my breath. Clearly not low enough as my 11-yr old daughter’s head swung my direction. I acted as if I hadn’t heard a thing and in a minute or so simply said, “honey, would you see if you know who gets out of that nice big shiny black car in front of us?”. “yeah, sure…pull up some more mom”. Uh-huh…and exactly what do I think I’m going to do with THAT information??? Hunt the little girl down who hops out of the nice big shiny Black Navigator? Find out who her moron parents are so I can go give them a piece of my mind? Keying the nice big shiny Black Navigator did cross my mind.

Instead, I hurried Little Anne out of the car at the drop-off-your-kid-at-the-curb car line several car lengths from the door (another thing…do these parents think that the kids can’t walk a whole three car lengths to the door without dying before they get inside?). I said, “have a great day…love you”, pulled out of the drop-off-your-kid-at-the-curb car line, pulled up by nice big shiny Black Navigator Lady, watched her bouncy, dressed in pink, fluffy black-haired daughter get out of Black Navigator Lady’s car, and when Black Navigator Lady finally wondered who the schmuck was sitting next to her in the scratched up silvery gray land yacht she nearly hit, I scowled at her and her nice big shiny Black Navigator and drove off.

Next year can I get a part-time job directing traffic out there in one of those fluorescent vests? And, I liked to be carrying a large visible weapon while I pleasantly direct all those impatient, morally bankrupt, egotistical, self-centered, idiotic, rude drivers who attempt to cut in front of a whole line of patient car drivers at the drop-your-kid-off-at-the-curb car line, to the back of the line or else I blow their tires out with my handy dandy weapon. Is that too harsh for the district? I’m thinking the kids would love seeing the old lady with the bright vest taking on little "Ashley’s" mom who never, ever waits her turn…just like little Ashley.

For now, I guess I’ll go take it out on that stupid, condescending Wii Fit “trainer”.

Venting over…thanks.

The Humming of the Clothes Dryer

D-E-E-P E-X-H-A-L-E............

Here is what I am experiencing right at this very moment: the low hum of a clothes dryer working overtime, the clinks, clashes and beeps of a new wii Mario Cart game, a yearning to have not a single Christmas decoration in sight, a constant "need" to check American Airlines flight status for the next 16 hours to make sure my son returns to Germany safely, and an overwhelming desire to cry!

No, it's not possible for it to be hormonal. Stress...nope, that's all gone too. Relief...maybe somewhat. You know I think it's just everything. Everything all lumped into one big fat culmination of reality. Reality that a.) Norman Rockwell must have painted only fictional scenes. b.) Planning and executing are two TOTALLY different things c.) letting things take their course is usually best d.) Having your husband repeatedly tell you "c" while you (me) are still fighting the urge to "plan" means that he was right and you were...well...misguided e.) regardless of plans, families are unique and wonderful and funny and growing and changing entities that we are blessed to experience and be participants within.

Now, having said all that, what is up with this post-Christmas blues stuff? Is it the weather? Is it having to put all this Christmas junk up? (Of course, some around here contend that if not as much were put out, then it would be far easier to take everything down--odd logic, don't you agree?) It's just weird after Christmas--that's all there is to it. We had one heckuva Christmas here. We really did. We were all together. We had a truly WHITE Christmas. We were blessed to give and receive wonderful gifts.

So why is it that now I have this odd uncomfortable feeling of ... peace. A couple friends have just posted some clever comments relating to my perceived inability to relax, however, I'll have you all know that I just sat up in my bed and folded three loads of laundry while watching Desperate Housewives and quietly weeping at a hearty episode of Brothers & Sisters. Is that not relaxing? Surely it is. Does the fact that I also sucked on some sunflower seeds make the whole scenario lean more toward the relaxing side?

Here is my reality. My reality is that relaxing, at least for me, is a bit over-rated. A few examples: A TWO HOUR AND FORTY MINUTE movie about a science fiction character called Avatar who just doesn't like the idea of their "hood" (a tree of life) gettng blown to smitherenes by the evil militia group wanting to take over the universe....SERIOUSLY??? You mean to tell me that sitting and watching the blood curdling screech of girl avatar should be more relaxing than...say...vacuuming? At least when I vacuum I can hear the nice low hum of that little machine I am pushing, my floor ends up cleaner. When I sat "relaxing" for TWO HOURS AND FORTY MINUTES all I ended up with was a ringing headache and a sore butt.

I think the whole clothes dryer/decorations/crying thing is about change. I think that we humans don't necessarily "do" change well...at least not innately. And, sisters and brothers, we got a whole lotta change goin' on around here. I thought I liked change, I think I still may. And maybe it's not really about change, maybe it's about all the unknowns. About an innate fear of things not being as "okay" as they are now. Of our children failing, of our children being put in harms way, of losing a loved one, of not being able to manage everything, of meeting new people, of losing friends, of not doing a good enough job, of not understanding something, of being tired.

So for now my reality is that I fear my life will be very different a year from now and maybe there's really nothing to be afraid of, but if there is, I'm going to embrace it with everything I've got and if that means "suffering" through a TWO HOUR AND FORTY MINUTE movie about blue people in order to be with the people I love the very most, then by golly I'll do it!

But I think they should sit quietly with me soon and listen to the clothes dryer running.