Torrie is Twenty

The baby girl turns 20 Monday and to say that it doesn't seem possible is cliche, but it really doesn't seem possible.  I wish she were still four with that "nipple" plugged in her mouth walking around with curly hair and most of the time a giggly smile.  I was remembering how sticking the nipple in her mouth came to be.  For most children who suck on a pacifier, they start from early on.  For Torrie it wasn't that way.  She had never took a pacifier to make her sleep or to keep her quiet.  As an infant she never developed a liking for one and so it was just one less thing that we had to keep up with.  But shortly after she turned two, her attitude changed. 

When the kids were small, working at the blueberry shed would consist of starting no later than 7:00 a.m. and finishing up around 9 p.m. or even 10 p.m.  The girls would stay with Rowena until Mary will pick them up at around 4:00 and then I would pick them up from their Granny Mary's and take them home to only put them in bed.  One June night after working long hours in the blueberries, I was rocking Torrie in the Boston Rocker that I had in the living room.  We were rocking and rocking.  I can still remember her looking up with a smile and saying "leme get my nipple."  I wasn't sure I had heard her right but she darted in the kitchen, dug in some drawer and returned with an old Playtex nipple that I hadn't gotten rid of stuck in her mouth.  She sucked and sucked and the air hole made noise.  She was two years old.  I thought it was just a small comfort but it became a habit.  She sucked on a "nipple" for the next three years.  When she would leave to go to preschool with Mrs. Sami, she would stick her "nipple" in my pocket and as soon as she would get to me in the afternoon, she would jerk it out and plug her mouth.  By this time we had traded her "nipple" for a pacifier but we always called it the "nipple."  And she could do tricks with the pacifier-nipple.  If you stuck it in her mouth upside down, without touching it, she could flip it around so that it fit comfortably in her mouth. 

Another memory of Torrie is her nickname when she was a toddler.  The year before she turned two she stayed with Shawn Wallis at Marshall.  Shawn kept Haley Horton, Sarah Millsap, Will and Kyle Halsted, Taylor and of course Caitlin.  Torrie seemed to just run over who ever.  Shawn named her the Bulldozer and we shortened it to the Dozer.  One day on a drive around the country roads taking some family members on a tour of the farm something was said about the actual bulldozer that we used to make ponds.  Torrie tapped me on the shoulder and said not quite so clearly, "I right here mama."  Not sure what she said, I had her repeat herself.  Driving on down the road, it finally dawned on me ... She was the Dozer and she was right there beside me.  Oh I got a kick out of that.

One evening after Shawn had kept the girls, Leisha took the girls home with her to help me out while I coached pee wee girls basketball.  When I finally got them, Leisha and Rod were so tickled.  For supper one of the things she served was carrots and ranch dip.  Leisha laughed as she told me that Torrie had eaten all of her dip with just one carrot.  I think Torrie has always been one of Leisha's favorites. 

The January before this (1994) was when Torrie said her first complete sentence.  Snow had fallen and school had been let out.  That was also the day a horrific earthquake rocked California.  The television was filled with news of the devastation.  While I had her sitting at the bar with her brother and sister, you could hear the news repeating the horrible news.  Very gently she reached and patted my arm and said, "wha happened, mama?  wha happened?"  I think she repeated this question all day long. 

Her turning twenty is a big deal--at least it is for me.  I don't recall ever spending her birthday apart but this year she will be in Conway and I will be here in Onia.  I know the weekend will be filled with many more memories of the little girl that will be 20 Monday afternoon. (and not a second sooner)

A lot of dreams evaporated last night as the winning numbers were called.  Congratulations to the three winners in Illinois, Kansas, and Maryland.  I must say I am excited to hear that the winning ticket in Maryland was sold in a working class neighborhood.  I so hope it is a member of the working class that will claim 1/3 of the prize.  What a change is coming their way!

I am posting a picture of my lotto ticket right before it meets with its demise in the garbage can.  Before throwing it away, I reminsce all the happy talk we had yesterday of what we would do with the money.  All of us agreed that we would build a new school but we would definately want our names posted for all to see.  We would give money to friends, pay off our own debts, and live a life of luxury and leisure.(look back at my blog in March of 2011 as that was also a time of a big lottery jackpot)  As Faye and I walked out of the office, I announced for all to please remember us if they were the winners of the lottery. With a chuckle in my voice,  I reminded them how kind we were to each of them and how we were always willing to do anything to help.  As one teacher drove out of the parking lot, she stopped to assure me she would share with me.  What a smile that brought!

I think each of us knew that winning the 640 million was just a dream, but yet we joined in the pleasure of excitement of what each of us would do with all of that money-- Which brings back to giving to friends and this question..... Am I the type of person or friend that deserves to be rewarded for just being a friend if by chance my "friends" became lucky enough to win?  Then I stop to reflect at what I myself teach the children I encounter daily.  Do I exhibit behaviors that I want people to say "Mrs. Caston is really a nice person."  or is it my alter ego that pushes through and people want to say, "Mrs. Caston is a B****" 

At least once a week, and actually more, I get to visit with someone who has been bullied.  Sometimes I discover yes they are getting bullied but they are also being the bullier.  How do you explain to children every action has a reaction and you can't treat people negatively without some consequences coming back?  I know it is just nature that we are not going to like everyone we meet.  It is more common in the upper grades and to be talking about that scares me to death.  I am frightened about what can happen when adolescents do not get along.  The consequences can  be severe.

When we don't treat, I didn't say we  like, people that we meet with respect and courtesy, we can only expect that a reaction is going to take place.  As parents, we try to teach things one way but yet our behaviors are what our kids impersonate.  To raise children to be good adults, we have to display proper behaviors.  We have to keep our emotional conversations between our family of adults so that what we feel doesn't come out in how the children behave.

Yesterday in reading, third grade read about a man who paid for Ramona Quimby's family's dinner because they seem like such a nice family.  Unknown to the man, the Quimby's really needed that extra monetary support at that time.  I hope my family is like that.  Yes, my kids are grown and practically gone but I hope they have learned to be a nice family.  I know that we weren't always on our best behaviors and sometimes my emotions came out in their behaviors. (This more in the girls than the boy.)  I can offer these words because I have already gone before you with my children and made all of the mistakes that I see come through my office. 

 I had a kid ask me this year if I believed in Karma.  They felt they were being mistreated by an adult  and they knew for certain that Karma would pay back this adult.  I guess if you believe in Karma and you held true to the fact he was indeed being mistreated, that would be true.  It does seem that things happen for a reason. 

So what does all of this have to do with a lottery ticket?  I guess I am trying to say...... when you meet someone, think of them as having the winning lottery ticket.  Think of them as being the person who could change your life or even just pay for your dinner because you are nice.  It may just be false behavior but it soon will become habit.  I know nice makes me feel better.  I have my own rudeness grabbing me, but I think if I just let go, it make everything much smoother.  So now I am going to try to let go and treat everyone as though they have the capacity to change my life.  Good things are on the way. 

Did we just have Spring Break?  I feel like I have been at work weeks and today was the first day back.  This week is going to be a busy week full of pee wee basketball, pee wee basketball, and did I mention.... pee wee basketball?

Speaking of pee wee basketball.  What is the opinion?  Is it a priority to win every game by only playing a few players or is it a priority to teach fundamentals and the love of the game and let everyone play?  Let's just say, I can see both points of view.  My heart aches terribly as I watch the ones who never touch the court sit on the bench while others, and I don't think these particular ones practice any harder than the bench warmers, get to play several minutes and demonstrate their NBA potential.  I like to win as much as the next person but is winning all that life is about.  Do we not need to create character in elementary school?  What about being a good sport?  What about recognizing effort?  I just don't know what to say.  Both sides could make a viable argument about their opinion.

Speaking of opinions, when did it become wrong to have an opinion?  Simply having an opinion doesn't denote you as a trouble maker- it just means you see things differently.  Who is to say the opinion opposite is not the one causing the problem? 

Another question that has been brought to my attention is the good basket people.  How does one get into the good basket?  Do they (the good basket people)  go around showing all the marvelous things they have done never daring to mention what and who they threw away to accomplish what they did?  Why is one not allowed to contribute to the conversation and let others know about these good basket people?  Would that be an opinion?  Oh yeah, an opinion gets you into trouble.

 

Front Porch Talk

The best place to talk and just share is Mama's front porch. It use to be Granny's front porch and even back then, it was the best. You can watch the cars go up and down the highway, see who is going to the ball park, count campers, just visit, and solve the world's problems.

Today the conversation turned to weddings as we sat trying to decide on the perfect flower girl dresses for Tyler and Lauren's upcoming wedding on June 9.

As we shopped online and tried to count how many would be attending rehearsal dinner, conversation soon turned to one particular wedding in the family. For the most part, our family is either Methodist or Baptist but there are a few Catholics in our clan. We reminisced about this one particular family Catholic wedding.

Far different than what we are accustomed to, the Catholic wedding consists of a great deal of standing and sitting and standing and sitting. At one point in the wedding, a woman was singing a refrain. She lifted her hand to our side and let out a high pictched "AHHHH" to which we were suppose to respond. We all looked frantically through our programs for the correct refrain, but we were incredibly slow. The Catholics on the other side of the cathedral were right on time. She did this same high pitched "AHHHH" twice to our side of the family and the only response came from the bride's side who were well acquainted with the refrain. The next time it became evident the woman had decided we didn't have a clue how to respond and she began directing her extended arm and high pitched "AHHHH" to the other side.

But this is not all of what happened this particular day. Taylor and I had to work in the blueberry shed up until 2 hours and 15 minutes before the wedding. It takes 2 hours to get to Little Rock from our home and we still had to shower and make up the best we could. Darting out of the blueberry shed, we hit every hole in the 3 mile trek home to make an attempt at being presentable. Frantically we did a quick once over and darted out the door. We are absolutely pressing the speed limit and exceding it in some spots trying to get there on time. Driving down I-40 at about 80 both hands gripping the steering wheel, Taylor glances over at my underarms and says, "Mom, you forgot to shave under your arms." My response, "No big deal, Taylor. My underarms hairs don't grow that well." Taylor comes back, "Well today was a day they did and you have some really long hairs under your arms." No time to stop anywhere and grab a razor for a quick once over, Taylor begins searching the car for a pair of scissors that use to be in the side pocket. No success. She does find a pair of fingernail clippers. So, there we are driving down I-40 as fast as we can and I have my right arm extended over my head and Taylor is clipping my underarms with none other than fingernail clippers. Giggling and laughing at all of our usual luck, we finally make it to the cathedral in time for the wedding. As for my left arm, I don't really remember what we did about that.

The wedding was beautiful and the reception was very nice. Thankfully it was in the dark and no one looked under my left arm.

Well, here it is. The death of a fond friend. Spring Break is over and we all must return to school tomorrow. (Arkansas) I imagine the only ones with a smile on their face in the morning will be the parents and the weary babysitters that have had to tend to these people the last week.

Looking back at Spring Break, I didn't get near as much accomplished as I had hoped to but I did get in some well needed rest. Due to my injury to my posterior, lifting was totally out of the question. Mopping was a chore. I am starting to feel like I can do a few things but when I stoop down and start to get back up..... YOWL! It is painful. How did I become injured you might inquire? Well when you turned 49 one day, the next day is not the day to show the 5th and 6th grade boys you can still hang on the basketball court with the best of them. Dribbling down the court was no problem, but when I left my feet to become airborne for the layup.... that is when a fifth grader decided to show me his football skills and wham! There was nothing to land on by my back side on the concrete.

The boys quickly ran to my side and asked "Are you ok?" My response, "No."
"Do we need to get an ambulance?" Again I answer "No."
"Do we need to get a teacher?"
"No."
"Then you're ok."
"uh, No."

I lie there a while longer while one of them extends his arm for me to press all of my weight on and rise to my feet. Fighting back tears, No fighting back an ocean of tears, I wait until I can call time to go to lunch.

When I finally get them to lunch, I am thinking now I can go cry and make my owie all better.

But NOOOOOO, the boss wants to have a talk.
And what he wants to talk about, I don't like the sound of.
Pretending my tears are all about my pain, I cry and I cry and I cry. The pain in my backside caused some of my crying but not all of it.
What I hear, breaks my heart. I am suppose to smile and be happy. Not just when he gets done but for the next rest of my career. I am suppose to smile and act like this decision is just dandy. I'd like to tell him all I know about a particular situation, but that would be looked upon as jealousy. Either he will figure it out or he won't.

So, I smile and act like I am happy. And whose to say I won't eventually be happy? I always ask the Lord for whatever is best. Sometimes the Lord and I don't always agree, but I have to rely on faith and his will. Right now, I can't talk about the way I see things or feel about things. It is so heartfully painful. I feel so mistreated. Given 27 years and someone give 4 and their desires out weigh yours. I know there is a bigger picture out there and I can only see for the the little while. I know the Lord is doing what is best for me.

So I will smile and be happy.

The Pioneer Woman

Guess who is on tv. The Pioneer Woman. My favorite cook on tv. After watching her show, I usually have to go to the store and get ingredients to cook something she has shown us. My favorites so far have been chocolate cake and corn chowder.

What will she entice me with today? I can't wait.

Blogging

I keep reading about the importance in blogging with students, sooooo..... with that in mind, I am going to try to keep up this blog. The problem with blogging is wondering who really wants to know what I have to say. I am an all over the place kind of person. One day I could be blogging about what is going on at school, on the farm, what I am cooking, what the Lord has done for me, or just what fun (or mischief) I have gotten myself into. With all of this in mind, I hope you enjoy what I put out there for you to read.

Since it is the point of determining how it could better benefit students, I am going to work on two different blogs. This one for myself-edublogs for education. I want to find out what is the best.

My biggest regret is that I didn't keep this up the entire school year. I could have probably written a book. However, some of the things would be hard for me to keep my own personal feelings out of. With all of this in mind...... Let me get to blogging.