Summertime Blues

The regular school year brings routine, schedules and predictability for parents and teachers. I’ve heard many parents ask what they are supposed to do with their kids when classes cease and the hot temperatures roll in. My advice as a teacher and mother? Start your research early and have a plan!

Our normally scheduled activities take a backseat to the camps hosted by the venue. What would be our normal Wednesday morning at the gym for Tot Time is now replaced with the serious gymnasts who live and breathe for the uneven bars and balance beams. Our nature classes at the zoo have been overrun with eight and nine year old kiddos, hoping to get a glimpse of the two-headed turtle that resides there. Apparently summer does not care about my hatred for the heat, the overwhelming number of people out and about at our normal spots, or the fact that my two year old cannot participate in camps until she is 4. Getting crafty this summer is the name of the game for this teacher turned mama.

Establishing some type of everyday plan is crucial for the sanity of all those in the household. If there is even one predictable aspect of your day, the rest will fall into place. Perhaps a trip to the pool in the morning works best so you can head home for lunch and downtime. In a house with little ones, nap time may follow the pool, whereas older kids might use the after pool time to get their summer reading in. A weekly trip to the library will refresh your at-home libraries and keep those reading skills up to standards while out of the classroom. If your stubborn readers are having a hard time settling into a reading routine, take advantage of the time summer offers and use it as a chance for them to explore various authors and genres. Throughout the school year, they may be told what to read, but summertime gives their minds the freedom to get lost in a series that would otherwise go unread.

Perhaps you have toddler or preschool aged children who enjoy all the morning activities, but become a bit, stir crazy shall we say, after nap time or in the mid afternoon. I’ve found that it helps to have a craft ready for them to take part in. Free play is a must for all children, but that can only last so long, so when it ends, you better be ready!

Some of my favorite post-nap crafts include, but are not limited to:

– making homemade play dough

– painting with Q-tips and a cookie sheet

– using cotton balls and wiggle eyes to create creatures

– making pictures with bingo dobbers

– tapping into our food coloring supply to make various color ice cubes

– placing those cubes out in the sun, setting a timer, and checking their current state

– conducting a “sink or float” experiment with household objects and a bucket of water – – > older kids will love assisting with this!

– breaking out the sidewalk chalk for a good old fashioned game of hopscotch (bonus: this timeless game will enforce rule following and large motor skills)

– painting coffee filters with water colors and attaching streamers to replicate a jellyfish. The colors will run together and create a collage of colors!

 

While summer is about relaxing, you can’t expect a child to kick back into gear come August if he/she didn’t use any of their free time productively. I understand a schedule is hard to stick by, and may even seem impossible at times, but starting small is the way to go. Before you know it, the aisle at your local stores will be full of glue, pencils and notebooks. What a great feeling you will have when you realize you are sending your ducks off to a new grade level from the heels of a constructive summer!

 

 

A Lesson in Letting Go

This particular post served two purposes for me: using words to come to grips with certain emotions and the realization that everyone should experience difficult situations through the eyes of a child.

Anyone that knows anything about me can tell you how my heart encompasses a tender spot for animals (I get that from my wonderful Dad). Growing up, I surrounded myself with animals: horses, dogs, hermit crabs, fish, you name it. If it crawled, walked, flew or swam, I found a way to love it. That being said, it was no surprise that a pet would find its way to my adult life.

A few months after we were married, an opportunity came to adopt a black lab that needed a forever home. One of our dearest friends, who also happens to be a veterinarian, suggested this dear girl for us and how she would be a perfect “first time dog” for Jeff, who didn’t grow up with any pets whatsoever and was weary of the dreaded puppy stages and all that entails. The rest we say is history, because the minute those two met, I saw someone with a not-so-soft spot for animals completely fall in love with this gorgeous, four legged creature. Mandy became a part of our family in a way that I never thought possible.

Her love of retrieving tennis balls and swimming in the lake made her entertaining to watch, but it was her calm, cool and collected temperament that stood out as her shining feature. We were informed of her receiving formal obedience/bird hunting training, but she must have been at the top of her class. She didn’t bat an eyelash at the boom of thunder, fireworks or a gun. Nothing rattled, bothered or annoyed her. She was as steady as a ship at all times, which fared well for us all considering the colicky, screaming baby that entered our lives 2.5 years ago.

To say that Mandy was the perfect dog is an understatement. Honestly. She laid in the bathroom on the nights that pregnancy took a toll on me, treated Evelyn as if she were her own, and listened better than some children I know. While I could go on and on about the traits that made her remarkable, I want to touch upon the lesson we all had to learn the hard way: how to say goodbye. We as humans know our lives well exceed those of our furry family members. I know this, but how in the world am I supposed to convey all the details of life and death situations to a toddler?

It all came down to facts. She didn’t want a long, drawn out story about Mandy’s hips failing, arthritis taking over and the whole body aches and pains she was going through at age 14. She knew Mandy had “ouchies” as we called them and could obviously see the physical decline taking over. I told myself to stick to the matter at hand – base our explanation on what she knows and nothing more. I can’t stand when parents over inform their children in a situation, which can send you into a world of discussion that their brains may not be ready for. My job as her teacher and mother is to set the example and live by it. I told myself that being strong and steady will surely win this race. I thought back to the times in the classroom when topics swam around in murky waters. Those times usually involved current world events or at home disasters, but affected children in different ways. We call Evelyn our little Jane Goodall, due to her sweet, delicate nature when it comes to animals. I knew this was a case for my “A” game to kick in.

Evelyn knows there is a God who lives in heaven and that he created all creatures great and small. She also knows that he has helpers, such as St. Francis, to come to the aid for certain issues. As I held my breath and waited for the “where’s Mandy” question, I put my teacher face on and tried my best to spell out what happened. Her level of understanding and questions were not what I expected. How could this little person sound so wise beyond her years when I am on the brink of breaking down? How can she possibly grasp that Mandy isn’t coming back here? Would we experience a Groundhog Day scenario when she wakes up and forgets that we had this discussion? With all the questions rolling around in my mind, it took all I had to stay on my “fact track.” The bottom line went like  this: “We are sad that Mandy isn’t here anymore, but she was in too much pain to stay with us on Earth. God needed her in heaven to catch all the tennis balls. St. Francis needed a dog just like Mandy to help keep all the animals in line. God took away her “ouchies,” which is something we couldn’t do. She doesn’t need a bed or food bowls because God gives her everything she needs. We got to keep her collar and leash as a reminder of how much we loved her here, but now she is able to run around in heaven with all the other animals.”

I must have spent a week saying this, wondering when and if it would sink in. I know repetition is key to any learning process, but I was more emotionally tied to this answer than any other subject. It wasn’t until on a Sunday evening when I knew we were all going to be OK. We were walking out of Mass and passed a banner for the two popes who were recently canonized into sainthood. Evelyn asked who they were and why they had their own posters. I informed her that they were very important people who lived by God’s rules during their lives, but were called to heaven to help him there. She turned to both of us and asked, “Oh, God needs them to throw tennis balls for Mandy?” As I was drying the tears from my eyes, I took her in my arms and just replied with a weary “Yes, I bet he does.” With that reply and a quick prayer of thanks to the man upstairs, I knew my child just experienced one of the strongest lessons of them all: faith.

While the questions surrounding Mandy have lessened and the wound doesn’t seem as sore, there are days when I find myself waiting to find her at the gate when I get home. Or most recently, seeing a black lab running on the beach and thinking about how she came to life near water. Then out of nowhere, I catch Evelyn singing a little song about how happy Mandy is in heaven (to the tun of “row, row, row your boat”) and grasp just how beautiful the world is through the eyes of a child. And that is something to truly be thankful for.

 

What a good looking pup!

 

She was plotting how to take my Smiley cookie

 

 

 

 

Our first Christmas with Evelyn

 

 

 

 

Proudly showing Mandy her birthday party invitation

 

That face!

 

 

She spent her last few days with us at her happy place: the lake. As it turns out, her final resting place is there as well, complete with a water view.

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Egg-celent Time!

Growing up, Easter meant a myriad of things for our household: watching as the lilac bush as it sprouted new, beautiful blooms; saying goodbye to the snowsuits and boots (we hoped); white shoes to complement a new dress; my Dad taking forever to step up the tri-pod in the yard so he could capture our Easter Sunday smiles (again, sans snow and boots) and a Good Friday tradition of dying Easter eggs and visiting a sacred chapel with my grandparents. While some aspects of Easter have changed just a bit for me, passing certain details of this season down to my little one(s) is something near and dear to my heart.

I find such enjoyment in activities that can be done year after year, especially with little ones. What was boring last year was the hit of the day this year, and I am sure I will have to really step up my game for the coming year! With every stage of childhood comes a challenge. Last year, we couldn’t get Evelyn even the least bit interested in Easter eggs. This year, Miss Independent herself wanted nothing to do with our help and insisted on dunking the eggs into the dye on her own.

Thanks to my endless supply of paint, cotton balls, cut-outs of every animal known to man and God himself and some paintbrushes, we were able to move onto making bunnies, chicks and various other spring-like creatures while the eggs dried. As a teacher, I knew how important it was to let the child create on her own, thus making the experience, not the end product, the goal. To be perfectly honest, I could care less that her rabbit looked more like a marshmallow than a furry mammal. She was so proud of how and where she placed those cotton balls that even I couldn’t argue.

On the religious side of it all, it is hard for me to take all the credit for her knowledge of this joyous occasion. Her one day a week, Mother’s Morning Out program took care of most of the stories for me, along with a few songs and dances. It was so heartwarming to walk into her little classroom and see palms on the ground for Palm Sunday,  a table set for the Last Supper, and pieces of cloth hanging over a fake rock. They laid the groundwork for her basic understanding of Easter and I merely supplemented and enriched at home (and in the car, bathtub and anywhere else it seemed appropriate to sing Jesus songs). My little sponge was absorbing everything and gaining a solid understanding of God and the world around her.

Life. Is. Good.

 

The egg tradition continues!

 

 

My lover of all animals, great and small

Where the Bluebonnets Bloom

“Hair blowin’ in the wind
Wonder what you pretend you are
When you run…

I’ll think of you
When the blue bonnets bloom
When the blue bonnets bloom
I’ll think of you…” – Cross Canadian Ragweed

Depending on the amount of rain received, spring time here in Texas means wildflowers will line our highways (Thanks to Lady Bird Johnson) and you will find the majority of people outside, scampering about among the colors. I think Texas not only has some of the most gorgeous sunsets on Earth, but is home to a colorful array that serves as a picture perfect backdrop.

One of my favorite legends is retold and illustrated by none other than the great Tomie dePaola, entitled The Legend of the Bluebonnet. Legends serve a two-fold purpose for me: they are open-ended and they make children think. Yes, that is correct, they have the amazing power to make a child wonder if the story actually happened. To take it a step further, they can place themselves in the story, take on the role of the main character and tell the legend from their point of view. Legends allow me to hold a child’s attention with the turn of every page while living  in an age where it is easier to swipe a screen to find out what happens next.

For younger toddlers (22 months-2.5 years), I found that taking a plain, toilet paper roll and painting it blue or white is a great start to a craft for this particular story or time of year. Evelyn found it easy to then glue pre-cut strips of tissue paper to the tube, once dry. Pipe cleaners and any other stick on type materials can be added to enhance this take on your very own bluebonnet, but I chose to keep it simple, just like the story. Older toddlers and even pre-school aged children may enjoy taking their time to make their bluebonnet tubes more true to form. You could also have them dip their fingers in paint, dab their fingerprints along a pre-drawn stem, and add some leaves at the bottom to finish it out. It doesn’t matter if you have a mixed range of kiddos – remember that any activity can be altered to fit those just itching for a craft.

As a family, we have the obligatory bluebonnet pictures that hang on every living room wall of every Texas resident. However, it was not until this year that I was able to capture the pure joy and excitement that comes from a child running in a field of flowers. There is nothing more innocent and camera worthy than hearing a little one scream with delight as she rolls among some of God’s most beautiful work.

 

 

 

 

 

A Down and Out Vacation

As I sit here and write in the comfort of my air conditioning (which is set at a steady 70 degrees come summer), I can’t help but think about cooler temperatures and letting kids have more outside time than they do now (see previous post about my love of the cold).

My wonderful in-laws took us on a skiing vacation in March of this year. What could be better than the mountains of Colorado, cold weather, and the chance to enjoy the scenery while working out? I had visions of soaring down the mountain by day and sipping hot chocolate by night, all the while showing Evelyn the ins and outs of this sport I love so much. On paper, I had it all planned out. We would venture out in the morning, take advantage of all the activities offered for kiddos by the resort (ski school starts at age 3) and hit the slopes come afternoon when the grandparents were ready to wind down. It was all falling into place until a dinner out ended horribly wrong for yours truly.

I don’t know if it was altitude sickness (which I have never, ever experienced in all my years of skiing), food poisoning, or the first trimester of pregnancy, but I found myself on the couch/bathroom floor for the remainder of the trip and hopelessly watching skiers zoom by from the living room window. Granted, it was a chance for me to have time to myself all day, but not really in the manner expected. I stayed back while Evelyn took a sleigh ride through the mountains and made snow angels with her Aunt Liz and Uncle Stephen. This was the perfect example of improvising when needed and allowing others to step in when I so badly wanted to do certain things.

In the end, it didn’t matter who she played in the snow with or how many people were present to put her in a sled for a ride. When a mama is down, out and away from the comforts of home, the next in line sure know how to step in and make it alright. She had more fun than I could have ever imagined and came back to the house each day, full of eagerness to inform me of the happenings. And with Gatorade in hand, I took in every word.

My view from my spot on the couch

Just a Short Sabbatical

As I logged onto this site for the first time in months, I realized that my last post was from January. The neglect I have shown this blog means that

1.) I am too lazy to keep up with such a hobby

2.) I have placed my time and energy into other aspects of my life that does not include technology

3.) I just forgot. End of story.

I think said neglect comes from a variety of these three reasons, but nevertheless, summer makes my mind soar with thoughts of outdoor lessons and ways to incorporate any beach animal into our day. Thankfully, Evelyn doesn’t object too much and is a pretty good sport when it comes to humoring this Teacher Turned Mama!

There have been so many lessons learned along the way since January, and I will do my best to enter those that I remember or improvise with the few details I have stored in my brain from the past half year. One that sticks out for this Pittsburgher who takes up residence in Texas, was the great month of February. Now I know all my Northern friends are having words with me in their minds, but you have to understand my love for the snow and all things cold after experiencing months upon months of hot, dry weather. Still mad at me? Think of it as the the last snowfall bidding you adieu and the spring breaking through what was once the frozen tundra. Welcome to my love of February.

While I make it a point to return to Pittsburgh every 3-4 months or so, I never pass on the opportunity to remind Evelyn that cold weather here is unique and should be taken advantage of. From solids to liquids and liquids to solids, she enjoyed playing around in the small amount of snow we received. She learned a hard lesson though, one that every Texan tries to overcome: bringing snow inside results in a puddle of water and a mother explaining the real meaning of “Frosty the Snowman.” Thankfully, a ziplock baggie and a freezer can always be counted on to keep a memory frozen!

Peace Among the Chaos

I am a creature of habit. I love routines and nap times that happen like clock work. My child is the same way; she thrives on knowing that everything has its place so she can find something with ease if she wants to. With that being said, one can imagine my anxiety with my current home renovations.

Before the work started, I thought the hardest part of a renovation would be the furniture all stacked in one room and dust covering every square inch of the house. I didn’t think that keeping a 2 yr old confined to the house, amid the hammering, drilling and sanding would stand as one of the biggest challenges of them all.

To beat our so-called cabin fever, we took to the great outdoors. Thankfully, Texas weather allows us to do so, despite the fact that it is January. Here are a few snapshots of our morning/early afternoon – AKA pre-nap time:

Making sure those floors really are secure. We turned on Elizabeth Mitchell,one of our newest Pandora stations, and had a mini dance party. It lasted until the workmen told us to stop!

Older kids would a hopping or box jumping contest in an open space such as this. If I had the resources in my garage, I would have laid out some dots of different sizes and colors and watched as Miss E would attempt to hop over them.

Richard Scarry’s Busy, Busy Sticker book came in handy at the perfect time. Just as the drills were getting louder, E became more involved with creating the perfect beach scene in the book. Not only are the stickers reusable, but some of the templates allow for more discussion if the child’s age permits it. If she was a little older, I would take the stickers for the kitchen scene, place them on the playground scene and tell her to make up a story based on if those items really could work in that setting. I think I will be holding on to this book for a while!

I thank God every day for my nature, outdoor loving child. The buckets of dirt (in various sizes with various types of soil) provided us some much needed quality time outside. Not only was she engaged with the transfer of soils from one pot to the heat, but she filled a small pot with dirt and sticks. I asked her what the sticks were for and she said “for the deer to eat” (note: our yard backs up to a greenbelt where many deer come to feed at night and where many of our not so good fruits and veggies take up residence). I love the way a child’s mind works! Now, if I had an older child, I would take the opportunity to teach about decomposition to the Earth, worms to the soil and the food chain to the balance of our ecosystem.

But for now, I think I will stick with dirt on the shovel.  🙂

Learning in Line

It seems like long lines are attracted to those who don’t  have the time to wait in them, those shopping with small children, or the misunderstanding that the cashier is going extra slow on purpose. Regardless of the reasons, long lines happen and being prepared is one of the only ways to come out on top – sans scratches, bruises and impulse buys (because you needed four lollipops in the shape of Mickey Mouse, right?)

The other day, while my little E was at a Children’s Day Out program, I found myself with two and a half sweet, blissful hours to myself. Of course I ran errands, which took me to a nearby craft store. I was beyond happy with the fact that I made excellent time picking out my purchases, deciding which color of paint would best suit my craft in hand, and making a speedy run for the nearest checkout line. After careful calculations about my time and exactly how many other errands I could run, I was all ready to reward myself with a coffee from one of my favorite local spots. As the minutes ticked away with me standing in line, I saw those potential errands slowly drift out of my hand, faster than I would have guzzled down that coffee.

Now, I have learned to travel with just a few things in my bag, ready for times like these.  I casually pulled out a magazine that I am trying to desperately to finish and began leafing through the pages. I just began to drool over the renovation of a run down beach house when my ears and attention were stolen two different scenarios around me: the mother in front of me had a two year old that she was trying to keep entertained and the mother behind me had a pre-school aged child that she was trying to keep peace with. It’s funny how I could identify with both of them, even though their ages varied. The two year old wanted nothing more than to jump ship from the cart and run wild amid the glue, glitter and paint. She jumped out of the cart, mom put her back in. She screamed, mom gave her the iphone. She threw the phone of the floor and the mom just reset the game and threatened to take it away if she threw it one more time. Not only could I understand the frustrations of the mom AND the child, but I felt for both of them. The child needed something to keep her fingers busy and the mom needed to know that she was not the worst parent in the world and the slow cashier was actually not a result of her so-called bad parenting. I retreated back to my bag of tricks (which every teacher and parent should never leave home without) and pulled out some homemade play-dough to offer the duo. While this seemed to occupy her for a few minutes, I couldn’t refrain myself from listening in to the conversation that was happening behind me.

The four year old wanted nothing more than to know how in the world his wooden dinosaur was going to take shape and form. He questioned, mom answered. He questioned more, she kept answering. She introduced him to the words extinct and endangered, the animals that fall under these categories, and where he may have seen a few of them. The level of detail and depth this mother went into absolutely amazed me. She could have handed him some technology piece, but instead chose to elaborate about the number of teeth they were going to paint on the dinosaur when they got home. She could have answered her phone (which kept ringing), but chose to ask her son what he thought this <insert dino name here> would eat for dinner. Her connections to the content and her child’s everyday life made the wait seem shorter. She kept her son engaged with a topic, made him think about the questions asked, and expanded that topic to make him think about a different activity that they could work on with the same type of dinosaur (for the record, his answer was to make a food chain with dinosaurs, penguins, people and grub worms).

As I left with my newly bought items, I turned around and told her that I hope they enjoy building that dinosaur together. The little boy jumped up and down and informed me that this week was all about meat eaters because last week was all about the vegetarians. His excitement over something that many of us would consider so small made my day and even inspired me a little to push myself to capitalize on every moment and make it a learning experience. Getting into my car gave me a glimpse at the mother of the two year old and the struggles she was having trying to get that little one actually into the car. She saw me and thanked me for the play dough (again) and I reminded her that this wild ride of motherhood is never easy or one found laid out perfectly in a plan book. The truth of the matter was that she was just trying to survive the day and everything that was being thrown at her. I’ve been there and felt her pain. I’ve heard the screams of a toddler and witnessed the looks of strangers while your child is flaring her arms in the middle of the aisle. I’ve wanted to tell people that I am a good mother, despite the cries coming out of my two year old’s mouth. From those experiences came the objects I carry in my purse (and change weekly, mind you) and the stories I can now laugh at. From one person in line helping me out came the chance for me to do the same. I hope I can make a long line as fun for Evelyn as the mom did for her future archeologist.

My bag of tricks from today:

-Any animal book will do for my nature lover

– A spare stuffed animal is a must

– A bottle of water with food coloring (not pictured) to awe even the youngest set of eyes

– My on-the-go water coloring pad was the best six dollars I’ve ever spent

The Wave of the White Flag

There are times when you know you just can’t come out on top of a situation, and there are those times when you know you should  just avoid the disappointment and not even try. And then you have those times when you feel like you can conquer anything that life throws at you, only to rally with gusto and arise stronger than before. Over the past week or so, I have experienced all those feelings, thanks to a little time in our lives called “let’s try to keep a toddler in a bed.”

I knew this day was coming. I knew it. I have been waiting for it with my armor on, ready to tackle all the problems that come my way. What I wasn’t expecting was the shift from no problems in the “big girl bed” to “there is no way you are keeping me in here.” Back in October, she slept like a champion for me in a twin bed with a toddler rail. I really did think that I hit the jackpot with this one – if she loved a not-so-familiar bed there, she is going to just adore her bed at home, right?! Sadly, I was wrong, and had no idea of the type of battle I was walking into.

I am a parent that prides myself on the fact that I was diligent, disciplined and very structured when it came to sleep training her. In fact, I still am!  Friends and family will tell you that my schedule works around nap time. Yes, I realize this may look like a form of disorientation and there will be those days when it all goes you know where, but I can honestly attest to the fact that I have a phenomenal sleeper that operates like a finely tuned clock. I know when we are past that point of no return and when I have to leave Target because we are about to enter meltdown city if I decide to check out. I also know what it is like to have predictability and a routine of our own. And let’s face it, motherhood is all about flexibility, so why not put it into practice for sleeping? Enter nap time in her bed without sides…

I should just record myself saying “back to bed” so that when I literally do not have a voice left, I can still stand my ground. I know what I am doing will eventually pay off. Someday. Hopefully soon. Tapping into my inner teacher sternness has allowed for this whole “routine” to not grind on my nerves as much as the hubby’s.  I thrive on consistency and I know E does too (at least when it comes to sleep). Don’t get me wrong, we have had those days when I have waved the white flag and crawled into her bed with her to help those eyes shut. There were a few nights when I set up camp near the bed and woke with some of the most painful muscle aches I have ever experienced (and I am a runner). I have to keep in mind that even through the roughest nights, my white flag scenario is still not the worst around, nor is mine identical to others. We all have our flags and choose to wave them at different times. When you see that mama struggling with the kiddos in the shopping cart, know that her white flag is somewhere, ready to be flown. When you see the dad on the playground trying over and over again to get his daughter’s hair into anything but a messy bun, know that he has that flag in his pocket (and maybe even used it a few times today).  So I prepare myself as any good mother/teacher/wife would: with a cup of coffee in hand, my other on my hip, an explanation already in my mind and that look in my eye that says “I love you, but you need to go back to bed.”

 I waved my white flag at mealtime: no bib, no shirt, no tears!

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

As an educator, I am constantly striving to learn more. From reading articles and magazines, blogs and seminar handouts, to attending workshops on the latest “happenings” of the school world, I cannot seem to absorb enough.

As a mother, I am constantly trying to take what I know as an educator and bring them to life for my little sponge of a toddler. I often find myself jumping for joy because she takes delight in my “mini-lessons.” I never thought anyone would love my “Sink or Float” experiment more than my first graders until I filled up the bathtub and threw random items into it for Evelyn. The squeal of sheer excitement as we observed each item’s fate when placed in the water kept me grinning for days.

At a Homecoming Reunion event tonight, I was reminded of who I was before my days in the classroom and as a mother. Let’s rewind a bit and take it back to the good old days, circa 2001-2005, also known as some of the best years of my life. Attending Duquesne University was one of the best choices I could have made as a naive teenager. Even though those days on the “Bluff” are near and dear to my heart, it was nights like tonight that made me remember just how much I loved living in the present. That doesn’t mean that I don’t live life to the fullest now or when I first started teaching, but there is something downright real and intense about those four years of undergrad. I lived for Saturday night mixers and Friday nights on the wing with Late Night queso. I strived to pass each class with flying colors to ensure a solid job post graduation. I loved the bond among my sorority sisters and looked forward to formals, “be-dazzling” signs and cups, and meetings in the kitchen.

It pained me a little to realize that I forgot about some of those memories ( I blame the “mommy brain”) until tonight. I forgot how great it feels to have a sore stomach because you spent a good portion of the evening laughing. I realized that I still share commonalities with sisters now, 9 years post memories. Hearing the college kids of today talk about their adventures, rituals and wing traditions made me realize that some things don’t necessarily have to change. I can breathe deeply now, for there will still be pink carnations found on the tables and crescent moons on the walls.

Someday, I will tell Evelyn all about my days in the sisterhood. Someday, I will tell her that I hope she finds her niche at a university the way I did. Someday,  she will realize that her momma needed a night like tonight, to be refreshed and renewed to better serve her in the coming days (let’s face it, that is the only reason I am here, right?). But until then, I will spend my days with her, up to my elbows in bath water,  trying to determine if those Popsicle sticks will sink or float.

My baby girl (April 2012) and I in front of the School of Ed building on A-Walk. I was so happy to have her baptized in DU’s Chapel!