Fundraisers and tears.

I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the US economy sucks right now.  I’m going to assume that you don’t need a link to a current news article to know that things are bad all over. Even if you don't feel it yourself, you may know a few dozen people that do feel it everyday or maybe they just don't know better.

My family is one of the semi-lucky ones. Scott has a great job and was hired directly by a national company when they saw they would most likely not have him as a contracted employee anymore. We are making by day to day with a house in Minnesota and our rental place in TN. We see houses around here being foreclosed, short sold or their occupants evicted daily. I just came across a parking lot filled with automobiles that were being loaded due to repossession. 

At the same time, the public school systems are suffering. Badly. Everywhere. The fact that Tennessee has no state income tax doesn't help matters much, I am sure.

Owen just began his first year in school this fall. It has been 10 weeks since his first day of school, and 10 weeks from the start of fundraisers and donations. It only took that long to get frustrated and feel like I have been pumped dry.

Coupon books, spirit wear, year books, plastic wrist bands for sale.  Please send in gift wrapping items, M&M, snacks, more hand sanitizer. We need $4.50 for this special presentation on Monday and the puppet show costs $2.50 on Thursday. Every week it seems my son’s primary school is encouraging me to buy yet another frivolous item or send in money for an activity with a reminder that a portion of proceeds will go to your child’s school that is desperate for money. Oh, and your child has a chance to win some ridiculous plastic trinket as a reward for selling stuff.

I’m frustrated because many of these fundraisers are based around items I wouldn't buy in a good economy and things I’ve definitely eliminated in a crap economy.  But most importantly, I know how little of my money will actually end up going to support the school itself.

For starters, those plastic trinkets or coupons for a free meal (1 meal) that I’ll find in the bottom of my son’s bookbag after the last day of the sale?  Completely unnecessary.  I’d rather see my money going towards supplies for his classroom. And really, I just bought $30 of coupons...now I need to take my whole family out to eat for my son can have his fundraiser reward of a free meal while we spend another $30+ and wouldn't have gone anyway? Or do I let him sit and eat his free meal while we watch. Heartbreaking.

And what about the majority of money going to the fundraising company?  While I want to do what I can to keep manufacturers open and jobs available, my first priority when writing that particular check is to help fund my son’s education.  I hate the idea that $45 of that $50 box of chocolates is going to some company that I have no loyalty to and have a hunch that the plastic trinket I find in Owen's bag is made in China anyway.

Scott grew up in a house that had NO money. Many days he and his brother had to steal food from the local grocery store because there was none to be had in the house. He has told me stories of how anxious he got every time he had a note from school requesting anything. School fundraising doesn't generate warm fuzzy feelings in any way.

Of course, we don’t feel like I can explain that to our son.  By the time he comes home with the note in hand, he’s already been told that he’s helping to raise money for his school and concluded that if your parents don’t buy this it means they don’t love you or care about your education. It’s not easy explaining things like “overhead” and “waste” and "we did what we could" to a five year old boy.

I try to teach my children every time we walk by the Boy Scouts selling popcorn (which is every store this time of year). I support the Boy Scout organization 100%, but when solicited by a young man this fall and was told it was $18 to buy popcorn...I had to decline. I decided on the spot to give a donation instead. Not a large one, but what I had in my pocket. Now, every time we walk by their campaign set up in front of the stores we frequent, the kids ask not for the product but if I have any change to donate. I hope that the kids will continue to ask me when the Salvation Army sets up their kettles in a few weeks. 

I’d prefer if my school districts would simply NOT solicit donations through fundraisers.  Or maybe there’s some pact we can sign that says “in exchange for not participating in any of this year’s frivolous fundraisers, I will send you a check one time for XX amount of dollars.”  Surely there’s a way to turn that into a tax deduction, right?

Tonight, I listened to Owen cry himself to sleep because he did not sell 10 coupon books. We did what we could to get that stupid plastic trinket and free meal. Because he didn't sell 10, he will not be on the morning televised announcements. Tears flowed. He stated he hated school. He never wants to go back.

So, why should a child hate school or hate boy scouts or hate church or hate anything if they aren't able to sell the most during a fundraiser. After a long discussion, we aren't sure what the answer is or how we will proceed. Will they give the sale credit to kids who find 10 donations instead of 10 sales....likely not. We chose to live in an affluent neighborhood minus the affluent house or income. However, will the competition between the rich and poor kids consume us? 

Tomorrow we will have to go shopping for more hand sanitizer, grapes and cheese. Thursday evening, the kids and I will be putting grapes and cheese on skewers. I picked skewers to perfectly coordinate with the plates the room mom picked out for the party so I wouldn't offend her. Scott laughs and says I should get seeded grapes and processed cheese food to offend the other moms. 

The first Saturday in November, we will be selling tickets at the school Fall Harvest Festival and handing out money to let our kids play games above their ability and fun level to raise money for the school. I have attended parent planning meetings and have been in email contact with the class mom. Our week for school drop off duty is in November. Even though I have never drove my child to school, I will have to sit and open doors for other families that do not ride on the bus, while my two youngest will sit strapped in a stroller hours before they usually awake and what ever weather conditions arise. It is not like we don't try.  We are involved. 

I hope the classroom does not make a big presentation about sending home spirit wear or yearbook, because I have not purchased it. The over priced t-shirt would be too small to soon and out of style before the next child enters school. The year book would be ripped apart or tucked in an attic or basement never to be seen again. 

Any suggestions out there? What do you do with fundraisers? I would like to know.

Game day and Nap day

Scott announced late last night that he was *still* considering taking Owen to Chattanooga tomorrow. The second part didn't shock me. The first part was a surprise. He was STILL considering...like I knew that was in play? I had not heard mention of him planning anything, but couldn't argue at the prospect. After a long week of all 3 children being sick, a missed school day, and an empty fridge, I was ok with that idea.


Today Owen and Scott went to Chattanooga. I found my head filled with songs of trains and trolleys all day. Why is it that Chattanooga brings to mind the sounds of trains? I have never even been there. After their departure we were faced with decisions of what we could do all day. HMMM....


First stop. Breakfast. I quickly learned that there isn't many places for breakfast in Farragut or far west Knoxville if you aren't eating fast food. Those that do exist in a reasonable driving range were BUSY. People stacked on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant all wearing UT Orange clothing. It is a crazy thing to see. There must be a city ordinance about wearing Orange on game day, because you don't see many in noncompliance. Luckily, I haven't been arrested and I was just without breakfast. Maybe I should reconsider reasonable driving distance next time.


2nd stop. Grocery store. Although UT game day makes people dress head to toe in Orange, it does provide us newcomers with little social life for tailgating or money for games wonderful opportunities if you avoid downtown. Last Saturday, I needed to go to Target. Parking was insane. Traffic was schizophrenic. I don't mind parking in the last row of a lot, but that wasn't even available. I have been warned that within a couple weeks as the holidays approach, getting anywhere near here will be close to impossible. Today, lots were empty. The only ones there were pushing out carts filled with cases of beer and snack food for the game. Perfect. Quiet store. Minimal traffic. 


3rd stop. Naps. This is where the day gets interesting to me. After eating lunch, Megan and Aidan went upstairs without me saying a word. We layed down for nap and slept. I didn't have any anxiety of Owen raiding cupboards, burning the house down or leaving the house unannounced, so I slept. When we woke up, I laughed. It was 5 pm. There went the possibility of completing any of the household chores that were on my list. 


4th stop. Dinner. Why is it when I go grocery shopping, the last thing I really want to do is prepare food? I had a coupon. Because "the game" was in progress and all people wearing Orange were doing other things, our pizza arrived very quickly. 


Meanwhile, I get this picture  

Mom is not here...ice cream for dinner.

Gone went the guilt of ordering a pizza. Sure I could have removed the soccer sized hornets nest in the basement, fixed the upstairs toilet that decided to imitate Niagara Falls last night at 2 am, put away the laundry or wipe down the years of black grime on the white woodwork in our rental house today. That doesn't matter and will wait for another day, because we must have needed that nap. 

Another state(ment)

Owen has a habit. He wakes up in the middle of the night or very early in the morning and raids the kitchen. Not only raids, but eats weird stuff along his way. Gone is a bottle of syrup, even though only one meal of waffles was served since we moved here. One bottle of honey recently discovered in the bathroom. Several chip bags, left over dumplings, cream cheese, bananas, and lemons. Gone. 


Scott tried to put a carrot out with reward that he would take him on a special outing if he didn't eat the family out of their monthly grocery budget for four mornings. It worked. Kind of. He showed me all the loop holes in the deal. If a chip bag is left on the stove, it is fair game. Or is honey is left in the cupboard with the coffee and tea, fair again. I swear, I will never win. 


With the fall break from school in full force, I made another deal. Stay upstairs in the morning. Don't even think about setting foot down those stairs without waking me up. If you do this, we will go to the top of the mountains. I wasn't sure if we would go or not. 


We did. We all fell in love.


First stop was a roadside harvest festival in Townsend. Although we did not photograph the biggest pumpkins and gourds I have ever seen, here is a few shots of out time there.

Next up, a drive through Pigeon Forge. Ummm. Wow. I still don't have the right words to describe the Las Vegas strip minus the gambling with the addition all all things amusement, comedy shows, music, westerns, not including all the carnival type parks and rides for kids. Here I was looking for a quiet day in the mountains, but I came unprepared and without a map. Because traffic was slow I was able to take a couple shots.

It was miles of stuff. Owen almost had an anxiety attack with all the carnival type attractions. Yet, I have to admit, there was many intriguing attractions if one had 3 weeks and 3 million dollars to explore. Sorry, Mom for my wrong information. Dolly Splash country is closed now, but Dollywood remains open. Tried to change lanes to get our pic on Dollywood Ln for you, but it was proved impossible.


So, off we go. To Gatlinburg visitor center. Candy apple break.

Aidan had a hard time choosing leaving the pumpkin nestled in the seat of the van or eating his candy apple. He did not want to loose track of that pumpkin. We visited the center. Owen spent all his money on an adventure tool kit. I was equipped with maps. Off we go. To the peak.

At 6,643 feet, Clingmans Dome is Great Smoky Mountains National Park's highest point. It is the highest point in Tennessee, and the second highest point east of the Mississippi. Only North Carolina's Mt. Mitchell (6,684 feet) rises higher. Here we are at the peak sitting in the tower after our steep climb to the top. 

Our descent was easier than the climb. We even stopped for a few photographs along the way.

Too bad Megan was camera shy. 

It is not every day Mom gets to be in a picture with her kids.

HoLa Festival

Last weekend the family traveled into downtown Knoxville's newly renovated arts district for Hola Festival! While Scott and Megan danced to music, Owen, Aidan and I traveled the streets to all the booths featuring different countries and their customs they celebrate. Owen filled out a passport after talking with each representative, and we looked at all the displays they set out to show us about their heritage. It was a wonderful event and nice to experience such diversity and celebration. As a family we vote, for the the food from Honduras! Yummy. Second in line was the "genuine" tacos from Mexico. You don't even get that at the roadside stands in Mexico. Real. Scott and the kids enjoyed tamales, too.

Megan with Scott giving her a boost to see young dancers in traditional dress. 

Owen's upset about something. What is new?

Owen trying to figure out what this is.

Street view of the HoLa festival on Gay Street, Knoxville.

Megan studying every move of the dancers and musicians with dad.

I can see this celebration to become an annual event for out family. It was fun. We love the diversity of our new home. I was able to meet a co-worker of Scott who was traveling booth to booth trying a food from every country. Wow! That is a nice plan.

Time and Tooth.

It has been 5 years, 8 months and 15 days since I first went into labor for the first time. Although I am grateful that I am not pregnant, don't expect to go into labor ever again, and will not be bringing home an infant soon, I find myself reflecting back to that day.


A lot of things have happened in those 5 years. 

• Scott graduated from College.
• We brought home a puppy.
• A few hundred dollars to the Veterinarian and a try at an obedience class, we found a new home for the puppy.
• We were blessed with Angel Baby.
• We remodeled our kitchen in Duluth.
• Scott got a job in Sebeka, MN.
• We sold our home in Duluth.
• We built a house.
• I became a SAHM. (Stay at home mom)
• I gave birth to a daughter.
• I gave birth to a son.
• We took trips to Grandma and Grandpa's cabin.
• Owen learned how to ride a bike.
• Scott was fortunate to not loose his job, rather get hired directly to do computer software engineering for one of the largest media companies. He is one of a team who are responsible to program the web sites that have more than 20 million unique visitors each month. No pressure there. 
• Our Zip code now begins with a 3 instead of a 5. 
• The kids and I not only survived but thrived on a 1200 mile trip to Tennessee. 
• I have become accustomed to strangers calling me sweetie and honey.
• I still get annoyed at solicitations for SAHM's to work at home. Really? Not in my world. Have you tried it with my kids?
• We laid rest to the 1997 Pontiac Grand Am and bought a new Toyota Yaris commuter for Scott. He still washes it every weekend. I already have bets on this weekend. Don't mind much, except for the water spots he leaves on my Mommy van from spraying the hose at his car and not washing mine.
• Scott and I are members of the PTA.
• Owen started Kindergarten. After 18 years of school, I again have to do homework every evening.
• We are the proud payers of both a rent and a mortgage. Yes, at the same time. Every month. I would like to think of us as stimulator's of the economy, but we aren't. We are just caught in this giant fly trap of people renting other people's houses because they had to move to find a job yet they can't sell the house they own and rented someone else's home. All of us hoping not to become the next foreclosure statistic. All of us pinching pennies and dollars and waiting for some movement in the housing market. We are fortunate someone will be borrowing our house at a reduced rate soon. We didn't get so lucky with a reduced rate here in Knoxville. 
• We are now fans of splash pads and discount theaters. 
• I am proud to report I have not seen a water moccasin or black widow with the exception of our trip to the Zoo.
• Larissa and Miguel are proud parents to a new baby girl.
• We have survived almost 2 months without cable television. I don't think anyone here would want to get it soon. Scott works. Kids play. I miss Vikings Football.
• It is September 30th. The thought of wearing long pants and shirts hasn't crossed my mind.
• My flowers I planted here are thriving, and trees are just barely showing the first signs of color autumn.
• Kelly and Mike are celebrating their first anniversary today.
• I was accused of being from Canada because I talk funny. Maybe I just didn't call them sweetie or honey?
• Owen and I have not missed the school bus. 
• I am thinking I may also need to carry a flashlight to the bus stop, or I just may spill my coffee next time I see our lizard in the driveway. 

As little as those little thoughts may seem, today is kind of a big day for me as a mom. It was 5 years, 8 months and 15 days since I gave birth to my first child. 5 years, 8 months and 15 days later, Owen lost his first baby tooth. 


I have always looked at my children's teeth like badges on a Mama Scout's vest (or would it be apron or sash?). I survived the sleepless nights. I survived the crabby days. I tried tricks like Orajel, frozen bagels, Motrin, and Popsicles, but soon learned hugs and love were the best medicine. I grew as a mother as each tooth emerged. I was proud.


The tooth was wiggled free with so much ease compared to how they came in. I held it in my hand, mostly speechless. However, Owen was a proud boy. He wasn't speechless. He jumped up and down. He called Grandpa. He hugged everyone. He exclaimed how big he was now. He yelled. He rejoiced. He didn't even look at the tooth. 


Today I do not mourn my first baby's lost tooth. I am celebrating with Owen. I am celebrating his spirit and adventure. I am celebrating his hard work in school and his positive attitude towards moving to TN. I am celebrating his smile. Even if it is one tooth less.

Shoes

  One can wonder who wore the first pair of what we now call as "shoes". What was his or her name who decided to put something on their feet for protection against natural hazards of weather and the rough ground they walked upon. What did it look like? How did it feel? Not only can shoes provide a practical purpose, they can tell a story about a person. 

  By looking at shoes, we can see the reflection of the personality of the wearer. The shape in which the shoe is in can help tell how the wearer stands or walks.  Shoes also show character in how the individual reacts to fashion by the style, brand name, condition or quality of materials. 

  When my kids were infants, I went by the advice of others and books I had read that shoes weren't the best thing for developing feet. The hard soles could possibly bring trouble to growing muscles and bones. Their tiny toes could feel the floor better to start crawling. I bought Robeez and other similar shoes for day care and times they required shoes. Most of the time in their learning to walk years, they were barefoot at home. As far as I can tell, no one is pigeoned toed, mule legged or walking funny, so I back my decision.

  Now that they are older, there is a different battle. Owen still would rather not take the time to put shoes on the correct feet and make sure he just doesn't stomp around on the heel like they were a clog. Megan puts on shoes, but will quickly escape from their captivity and run around barefoot in the yard. Aidan loves to wear shoes and socks, because he is a a big kid and does pretty much what mama says.

  Last week Scott and I attended our first school conference as parents of a Kindergarten student. I arrived at school, started unloading the children out of the mommy van and then made a panicked phone call to Scott. Where are you? So, you don't have extra time? Okay. I guess we will just deal with this situation. Deep breath. 


  Turns out with the change of routine and anxiety of what a conference was, Owen didn't put on his shoes before he got into the van. Not even half way. Not even on the wrong feet. Just not at all. We were already at school yet had no time to reverse course. I smiled and shouted, "Let's go!" 


  Still nervous, Owen entered the classroom and explained teary eyed his shoe-less self. The teacher smiled and winked at me. After all, she has spent many hours a week with Owen for the past month. She knows how he rolls. We proceeded with our conference, and left full of hope. Not only is Owen improving on behavior, he scored well on the pretest for Kindergarten. 


  We left the parent teacher conference with a mindful of what we need to work on. It is amazing the level of reading he is expected to be at by the end of the school year., even more what is expected by the first grade.  Considering how tired my Kindergarten child returns home, the hours Scott works, and the attention other children need, this may be a great task. Add to the list putting on shoes, correctly. Maybe learning to tie. 

 Recently, we bought tap shoes and ballet shoes for Megan's dance class. Absent of any known preschool programs that don't cost a fortune and not excited about karate, we chose dance. She cherishes her shoes. She has kept them safely in her dance bag away from all potential harm from her brothers. She has never worn them outdoors and is careful to keep track of them at class. I still get teary eyed every time she runs into the studio, puts on her shoes and declares to everyone she is ready to start dancing.

 One of the little things in life....Shoes. Gotta have them, don't need to love them. Some of us do, some don't. My all time favorite shoes were the Converse All Stars of the 80's, my knee high boots with heels, and my red and black Nike Teva-like sandals I just junked. Wow, did those shoes shoes hiked though hundreds of miles on paths through Duluth, never ending lawn mowing and daily wear for a decade. That is when I needed to wear shoes. After giving birth to 3 children and needing a 1/2 size bigger shoe after each child, I prefer the practical, sturdy, or plain. Or just barefoot. It is easier to dance that way.


  We all need to dance in life. There is no better way to live.

What a Zoo!

Today I visited the Knoxville Zoo. See if you can tell the difference between the animals I brought with me and the animals that live at the zoo. Warning: A few of the pictures may be difficult to distinguish.

 The Little Bear Exhibit.

I must admit that Megan wore her mingo shirt because she was hoping to see some of those flamingos that Grandma loves so much. No flamingos were seen on this trip, although we saw some cranes and other pink birds.

I did manage to bring 3 exhausted and happy animals back home with me. I think they were the correct ones, however I did hear some roaring, screeching and yelping at bedtime....

Boys vs girls.

We drove, and drove and drove. It took us twice as long as Scott did, but I figured it would. It might be hard enough when you have your own needs to consider, but I had 3 other beings that needed almost constant attention. Switch the DVD! Get your Seat belt on Megan or I have to pull over! I am hungry! I need to go to the bathroom. Then there was diaper changes and blanket requests. It did not matter if these requests we an hour after we were driving for an hour or 5 minutes after we left that last stop. They had to be addressed.

I am forever thankful to Phillips for the most amazing 9 inch dual screen monitors that are loud enough, easy enough to strap in and are just plan wonderful. I know we couldn't have made the trek without you. Stopping near Metropolis, IL, was sure a treat for Owen and we played Superman on the Phillips the next leg our our journey.

We added an extra night to our trip and spent the night in Nashville. It was wonderful. We arrived early and found a nice place to stay, the Drury Inn. I recommend it to anyone traveling in the south. Getting there at the right time, we were able to check in and eat their complimentary finger food dinner. What a perfect match for my troop of youngsters. Chicken fingers, hot dogs, meatballs, veggies, fruit, were a warm welcome to hungry kids and a mom who didn't really want to drive to find a place to eat. The previous evening in St. Louis we had an awful experience with the hotel restaurant, and I didn't want to repeat that. Did I mention that they had complimentary cocktails with the finger food. Following dinner we checked into our room and went swimming outdoors. Everyone relaxed and was at ease in Nashville.

I am glad that we spent that extra night. Scott was beyond anxious at this point and kept calling us  for updates on where we were and when we would get there. The drive from Nashville to Knoxville was gorgeous. I think they call that part of the Appalachians the Cumberland Plateau. I may be completely wrong. Forgive me, I have a steep learning curve. I am glad we drove the during the day and I am glad we arrived to Knoxville early in the day.

We let Scott know when we arrived. He had shopped all weekend anticipating our arrival. Among the purchases was a new 4 person tent the kids could play and sleep in. His thinking was that the kids could sleep in it, as our beds wouldn't arrive for a few nights. He spent the weekend we were traveling shopping, cleaning and calling us.

When we arrived at our rental house, Scott surprised us all and came home. Eager to see us all again, he was ready to go. Excited. Happy. With plans. Lots of plans. He took us out to Puleo's Grille. We coined the term KEF for Kids Eat Free. Then he took us on a driving tour to downtown Knoxville. The last thing in the world the four of us wanted was a driving tour. I mean really. Wasn't 1,200 miles enough the past 3 days enough?

Not only did we go to Puleo's Grille, we also went to World's Fair Park and the top of the Sun Sphere. Kids had a blast, because they finally weren't strapped into their 5 point harness seats. They could run. They could play. They could hug.

But that is the difference between the girls and the boys. The girls, well were were worried about silly details. Megan was wondering if this was her new house, why wasn't her princess bed here. I was wondering when bedtime was and how I could make it work. Megan asked where the pool was at the hotel tonight (aka new house). I knew Scott was going to be disappointed that the three kids didn't waltz into the tent he had purchased and fall asleep within moments  I was growing anxious that we were out past bedtime...again.

The boys seemed to have no trouble. They played. Hard. Aidan sure held restraint and did not just run right into that fountain in the park, but mom intervened and there was tears. Owen ran and climbed. Aidan ran and climbed. Scott ran and climbed. They seemed oblivious to the world around them. The fact that we still had to drive the 20 or so miles home, it was past bed time and we still didn't have sleeping arrangements ironed out left no impression on their mood. Megan asked again where here princess bed was.

That is one of the many differences between the boys and girls in our family. No one is right. No one is wrong. Just differences. Boys vs girls. The girls could have relaxed more and not worried about what was next. The boys could have planned ahead, made plans for a smother bedtime routine, realized we didn't want to drive in the van anymore. After all, I added a day to our trip and had a evening in Knoxville so we could arrive at a respectable time.

 Turns out it doesn't matter much, because that first evening was perfect. We didn't have to wake up the next morning and drive all day. We had played hard, laughed loud and ate wonderful food. We had finally arrived to our new home.