My 3-yr-old may be smarter than me

It was the kind of morning I always dread. Too tired from a busy and never-long-enough weekend, hearing the sounds of sniffles coming from my daughter's cozy pink bedroom. When we got her up this morning to get ready for school, she insisted she was  fine. She wanted to go to school and play with her fellow preschool friends.

So after our usual morning routine of strawberry milk, a breakfast snack, and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, we headed off to school. I kissed her head and gave her a hug before driving myself across town to work.

Then, around 12:15, my cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and groaned.
Her school.

"Amelia is in my office, and can't stop crying. She says she doesn't feel good and needs you."

I wasn't thrilled to hear this news, but wasn't extremely surprised. So off I went again, back across town, to pick her up.

I arrived at her classroom and peeked in the door. She took one look at my face and lit up like sunshine.

"Hi, Mommy!" she exclaimed, waving. Then she bounded her happy little self over to me.

I questioned her about her crying incident. I asked her if she was sick.

"No, Mommy. I am fine now!" Grinning. Grasping my hand. "Let's go home."

Um... what?!?

I think a three-year-old may have just duped her mama, two teachers, and the assistant director of her school.


You live you learn... I guess.
(Mama feels like a fool!)


Another year, another open doorway

Preschool open house chokes me up a little bit every year. Despite being with the same school since Amelia was three months old, despite being a total preschool pro, there is always at least one little thing that hurts just a bit.

We entered a familiar school building last night, but we passed all the familiar rooms. We waved hello at the familiar teachers, but kept on walking. This time, we turned a corner. We turned a corner away from the toddler room, away from the two-year-old rooms, and stepped instead towards the new three-year-old classroom. A classroom in which we learned about new things ahead: cooking lessons, show-and-tell, and even an introduction to Spanish language.

The smart mom in me is proud to have such a fantastic school and unique curriculum for my child.

The sensitive mom in me wants to know where my baby went.

Soon, Amelia will be helping me in the kitchen. Soon, Amelia will be teaching me basic words in a language I do not know. Soon, she will be grasping my hand as we hunt around the house for a show-and-tell item that begins with the letter of the week.

She only knows three kids in her class this time around. I hope she also brings home many stories of their adventures and laughter together as friends. Soon.

Change is difficult.

Even when we know it is for the best.

Talk, Talk, and more talk

I was a Communication major in the late 1990s. “Back then”, we concentrated mostly on media history, writing style, and journalism. Little did we know, communication would soon explode into a non-stop free-for-all of information. I wonder what Communication cirriculum looks like today?

When I was a communication major, the Internet was used for occasional research. But Internet speeds were pretty slow and it was difficult to find what you needed online. Google wasn’t incorporated until 1998, and did not gain worldwide popularity for a few more years. I trudged my way to the library and looked in (gasp!) books for information to complete various papers.

During the late 1990s, less than half of all U.S. adults went online. Fast forward 12-13 years, and over 75% of all Americans (age 2+!) are actively online in a given month. Facebook, second only to Google, has a monthly unique audience over 135 million. YouTube has a unique audience over 106 million. Twitter? Also huge, with 23 million visitors per month. People everywhere are sharing information, photos, and videos constantly. It is not uncommon for worldwide news to break on a social media site. I learned of Michael Jackson’s death within minutes, and through Twitter. The tragic Norway mass killings for a few days ago? Also Twitter. Amy Winehouse’s recent death? I first read it on Facebook. Before I even navigate over to a news site to check daily headlines, I am abreast of the latest news and gossip via social media.

I am proud to have a degree in communication. I marvel at how things have changed since I sat in classrooms and listened attentively to professors, or since I did my research at the library. I look forward to learning and immersing myself in new forms of communication as they emerge.

But… when is enough, enough?

I suffer a love/hate relationship with the barrage of information via social media. Part of me wonders if I should walk away to focus more closely on my real, tangible life. Am I wasting my time and feeling added anxiety with the problems of strangers and/or people I have not seen in 20+ years? Would I feel less stressed, less pressed for time if I did not find myself sucked into conversations, photo galleries, and blogs each and every day?

But, would I also feel more alone? Isolated? Lonely? Some of my “virtual” friends are most like me, most understanding of my life dreams and wishes.

Just as I have been learning through parenthood, there is a balance somewhere. Like parenting, it is probably an ever-changing balance. Something that is never set in stone, but flexes and bends with each new day and different situation.

I am on a mission to find out what that means for me.

*What does it mean to you?*

---
Data sources: Pew Internet Research and Nielsen Online's June 2011 NetRatings data

Field Trip

Leaves crunched underneath our sneakered little feet. Birds sang from treetops and clouds. Fuzzy gray squirrels scampered here and there as the terrifying herd of 2nd graders tromped through the woods.

We chattered and giggled throughout the day, trying to listen to the nice man in green as he explained various phenomena of nature. We gawked at the animals in habitat enclosures, especially enjoying the funny little otters as they splashed and chased and dunked.

We slouched comfortably in large padded theater chairs, waiting for the planetarium show to begin. Our eyes twinkled with the reflections of stars from the domed ceiling. We marveled at constellations, hoping to spot them in the real-life sky later that night.

Before the teachers led us back to the vans, we were set loose in the museum and gift shop. We crawled through the kiddie cave a few times and touched some starfish in the touch tank. Then we made a beeline for the gift shop. Our dollar bills were crumpled and warm in our little sweaty hands, awaiting a chance to become something more.

 

Most of us got the same thing. It was tradition. Astronaut Ice Cream. Melt-in-your-mouth blocks of sugary goodness. Somehow back then, we didn't realize that it had the consistency of Styrofoam. It was exciting and fun and special.

Nowhere else in East Tennessee could you get such an exciting treat.

We loaded ourselves back in the vans, munching away on our prized treats. By the time we arrived back at school, there would be nothing left but foil packages and a few tiny crumbs of freeze-dried Neapolitan.

---
This memoir recalls a school trip to Bays Mountain Park & Planetarium in the Tri-Cities area of East Tennessee. This annual school trip was always fun - and always ended with astronaut ice cream. If you are ever in this beautiful part of the country, take a drive up the mountain to one of the largest city parks in the country. A mini zoo showcases deer, wolves, skunks, birds of prey, and more. Dozens of hiking trails (including my favorite, the loop around the lake) can keep you exploring for hours. The planetarium is well-known throughout the area and always provides an interesting show. I haven't been to Bays Mountain in a while, so hopefully all of this is still there. Either way, it's worth it. A fantastic park for an afternoon adventure. (I heard there's a new zip line adventure for the summer!)
- - -


Write a memoir post about a memorable school trip.

Scholarship Opportunity

This is a Sponsored post written by me on behalf of PBM Products for SocialSpark. All opinions are 100% mine.
I can't imagine my little princess going off to college. I also can't believe she is already three years old. Potty-trained. Intelligent. And, well, a bit bossy. The light of my life is growing up, and I can barely keep up.
She will be in college before I know it.

I remember the excitement I felt during those last two high school years. Independence, new experiences, and new friends were just around the corner.

My parents were probably less thrilled. College came with a pretty hefty price tag.

Today, I am thrilled to be able to help spread the word about  Parent’s Choice Infant Formula Savings Sweepstakes.
The sweepstakes, created in partnership with PBM Products, LLC, a Perrigo company, will provide one lucky winner with a $10,000 college scholarship in the form of a College Savings 529 plan.
The Parent's Choice Infant Formula Sweepstakes was launched on June 15th and will run through August 1st, 2011.
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Stung

When I was 17 years old, I fell into the boyfriend trap.

I slipped away from my friends and spent every spare moment with my love of the year.

After the novelty of the new relationship wore off, I opened my eyes. I opened my eyes and saw my friends off to the side, enjoying each other’s company. Laughing. Chatting. Planning weekend activities. Activities that no longer involved me.

There was no Facebook in the mid 1990s, so I turned to the most popular high school “social media” at the time - I wrote a note. A simple note on lined paper torn from my 5-subject World Geography notebook.

    Let’s hang out this weekend! I miss you.

I folded the note precisely and slipped it to my friend as we exited the classroom. We parted ways for different 6th-period destinations. My heart skipped a beat; I did the right thing. I vowed to get my friend back.

When the final bell signaled the end of the school day, I searched the halls for my friend. I was antsy to connect with her as soon as possible. What fun activities would we get ourselves into on Saturday? I could hardly wait. But I did not find her.

Disappointed, I made my way to my gray metal locker, dialed the combination lock, and yanked it open. Yellow paper fluttered to the floor. Yellow paper, which had been previously stuffed through the upper slats in my locker door.

It was a note. Or, more accurately, a letter. Three full pages of handwritten words on slightly crumpled yellow lined paper. I flipped to the back – it was from her! Happily, I skimmed the words.

Then my heart plunged to the pit of my stomach.

My eyes widened with astonishment.

My hands began to tremble.

This was not what I expected.

My friend? Was not delighted to receive my optimistic little note. Her response? Three pages of frigid accusations. Her words held no affection. No wistfulness for our past adventures. No acknowledgement of our former closeness.

Venom.

I was stunned. I was hurt. Her words, floating through the corners of my mind, knocked the wind out of me. My pulse raced. My eyes darted around the emptying high school hallways. Tears wet my eyes as I observed other groups of friends happily chatting as they crossed the threshold towards the sunshine and eventually, to their cars.

I held it together long enough to arrive home and race up to my room. Only then did I let myself feel the sharp-edged pain of her words.

I cried. I called my boyfriend – no answer. I clung to my fuzzy brown bear, trying to find comfort in his warmth.

Maybe we can work this out.
I took a deep breath and picked up the phone. I dialed her number.

“It’s me,” I managed to squeak out. “I got your… note.”

First, silence.

The dial tone felt like a sharp smack in the face. The utter coldness broke my heart. This was someone who was once a very close friend… could there really be no affection left?

I distinctly remember this event as one of the most difficult in my teenage life. I can still feel this day. We patched our broken relationship over time, but it was never the same. I doubt she ever fully forgave me for putting a boyfriend ahead of our friendship. Nor could I ever shake the sting of her written words.

We became polite acquaintances.

The boyfriend? Long gone.

- - - - -

These days, as Amelia clings tightly to my hand in the midst of social situations, I should be glad. At least she hasn’t left me for a boyfriend yet. I hope my painful lesson can somehow keep her from suffering a similar collapse of friendship. I always remind her, “good friends are treasures.” And we thank God for all her friends in our nightly prayers.

- - - - -




Prompt: Choose a time when either the abundance or lack of affection (either by you or someone else) stands out, and show us. Bring us to that time. Help us feel what you felt.

First Day

In the Autumn of 1983, a five-year old me entered Kindergarten. My father parked the red Chevy Caprice Classic along the curb of the steep hill adjacent to school. My sister and I clambered out of the car after saying our quick goodbyes to Daddy. He was headed to work at the chemical plant; my big sister was in charge of leading me by the hand to Mrs. D’s kindergarten class. With my left hand in her right and our homemade corduroy book bags slung over the opposite shoulders, we crossed the threshold into our first day of the school year.

My young heart skipped a beat. Where many in my place were nervous, I was brimming with excitement. My sister was in my place this time last year. I knew the school, I knew the teacher. I had nothing to fear. But as I looked into the expectant eyes of the teacher and that comforting grip on my hand began to loosen, my confidence waned.

I could not hear the cheerful welcome from Mrs. D.

My heart, giddy only moments before, fell into the pit of my stomach.

I felt the last, light brush of my sister’s fingertips and she pulled away. I watched her bounce down the tile, cinder-block walled hallway and around the corner towards the first grade classroom. My brown eyes began to fill with tears.

A touch on my shoulder jolted me back to reality. I finally heard her voice.

“Good morning, Julie! It is so nice to have you today.”

I glanced briefly at Mrs. D. Her eyes sparkled with kindness, her smile was warm. My eyes scanned the room, quickly taking inventory of the colorful posters, the plethora of books, the green chalkboard exclaiming, “Welcome to kindergarten!” in the unmistakable hand of a teacher. I inspected the wooden easel, splattered with years of drips from classes past. Kindergarten looked okay… but I still wasn’t sure. I felt small, alone. I longed for the comforting grasp of my sibling’s hand.

Then I saw her - my best friend. The one person I knew so well. She was happily chatting with girls we knew from church while her hands rhythmically slid the red beads on the abacus back and forth. She looked up, she grinned at me. My heart skipped a beat once again.

This was going to be a great year.


       
This is my first submission to the Red Dress Club! Please comment and let me know what you think.

Lesson Learned

I’m an expressive person. Some may say dramatic. I find it very difficult not to wear my heart on my sleeve – or to keep my mouth shut, for that matter. In the early teen years? This was not an admirable trait.

Imagine… a middle school in a small northeast Tennessee city, circa 1991. I was an emotional, sensitive 13-year old. One of my friends was acting distant and a bit cold towards me.

Did I suck up my feelings and ask my friend what was going on? Of course not! I did what most 13-year-old girls would do. I wrote a note about her.

I write a note to one of my sweetest friends. I write something like this:



“What is wrong with Maura these days? She isn’t talking to me, and I’m soooo annoyed. She’s acting like a snob – just like Bess!” (Bess would the #1 snobby girl in school).

What a silly, silly girl I was. I thought that wonderfully juicy note would stay quietly secure in my friend’s bookbag. Nope, she showed it to Maura! Who, in turn, marched immediately over to Bess and handed it over.


In my middle school, good students could be chosen to do a semester working in the office or library instead of taking gym class. I was working in the office at this time. So later that day, I was finishing up my organizing project in the main office when eight girls burst through the doors to question me about the note. This was quite a brazen gang of girls willing accost me a mere eight feet from the principal’s office… but that time, the vice-principal stepped out and sent them away. I was shaken, but refused to tattle and let the incident slide.

The girls, plus a few extra, found me again later at the end of the school day. The surrounded me at my locker and began to tell me what they thought about my note. How dare I insult Bess… who did I think I was?

For a rare moment, I had no words. Had no idea what to say. And this time, a hero stepped in. A popular football player, at the locker only two down from mine, told those girls where to go. He stood up for me! He told them to leave me alone. And they did… the incident blew over and my face escaped a beating.

Later that night, I told my mom (some of) the story. And she gave me a critical piece of advice. Something I still use today, especially in these days of over-sharing on social media.

My mom looked at me and said,

“Julie, you need to remember this. Never write down anything that you wouldn’t want published on the front page of the newspaper. Don’t trust things to stay hidden. If you wouldn’t want it broadcast to the world, do not write it down.”

Lesson learned. I have even passed this advice to my teenage niece. I know all too well how a loose mouth can lead to trouble.

Thanks, Mom.

(Names have been changed to protect the innocent. And because my mom was right.)


Photo credit:  © BrokenSphere / Wikimedia Commons



Nothing compared

1990 was a year of change and discovery in the world. Mikhail Gorbachev was elected the first president of the Soviet Union. The Hubble space telescope was launched. The Gulf War began. Ireland elected their first female president. The best preserved T-Rex specimen ever found was discovered in South Dakota.

I was in middle school. Teachers discussed world events with passion and interest. I listened and learned, enough to get my As and Bs. My mind and heart, however, were elsewhere.

The boy I "loved" just wasn't interested in me.

One of the top 5 hits of 1990 was Sinead O'Connor's Nothing Compares To You. Her drastic shaved head got everyone's attention. And for me, her battered and bruised soul was a reflection of my dramatic rejection.

 It's been seven hours and fifteen days 
Since you took your love away
(You danced with me two weeks ago at a party and never asked me to "go" with you)

I go out every night and sleep all day
Since you took your love away
(I go out when my parents say I can and I wake when they get me up in the morning. But I really wish I could sleep all day and be sad)

Since you've been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see whomever I choose
(I still try to sit next to you in math class, but you sit with your buddy now. If I go to another party, I guess I'll dance with someone else)

I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant
(Probably having Chinese food with my parents tonight)

But nothing
I said nothing can take away these blues
(Our love was so strong during that one dance at our classmates house. My heart is shattered, it was love)

'Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares to you
(I will never get over you)

--Lyrics by Sinead O'Connor, pre-teen translation by yours truly.

Part of me looks forward to these days with Amelia. I can't help but find amusement in the drama. Hopefully, if I hold on to my memories of those days, I may also identify with her heartbreaks and embarrassments and be the mom she needs.


A special thank you to @mamakatslosinit, whose pretty much world famous writing prompts help me out of many a writing funk.

Giddy

Tomorrow, I may have to bust out some dance moves and hang out with this guy:



"Snowmageddon 2011" hit us hard. Snowed in for two full days. No school for an entire week. Too cold to play outdoors. Parking lots so slippery that we'd have to risk bodily  harm just to run an errand or two. So after eight straight days of very close indoor togetherness, it is finally time for Amelia to go back to school!

I remember how thrilled I was when she first said "mommy".

Today, I can barely handle one more "hey Mommy".

"Hey Mommy - I need a snack."
"Hey Mommy - I need help."
"Hey Mommy - I want some Play-Doh."
"Hey Mommy - I have poo-poo."
"Hey Mommy - I want a different snack."
"Hey Mommy - I want to watch a show."
"Hey Mommy - I want some lemonade."

Every 5-9 minutes, it's another "hey Mommy." Even when Daddy or other people are around, it's still "hey Mommy." Apparently I have some kind of magical power over the fridge, pantry, and television. And the toilet too.

Don't get me wrong, I love my girl. She makes me laugh and keeps me on my toes. But I am getting desperate for alone time. And it's bad. It is the pull-my-hair-out, silently-screaming-inside-my-own-brain kind of desperate.

It's time for us to have some space!

Danger: Tunnel Approaching

It happened in preschool.
My first disastrous boo-boo.
Complete with some stitches.

Children's playthings are so safe these days. Everything is made of plastic. With rounded edges and, except for the occasional "made in China" disaster, non-toxic paint. Warnings are stuck all over baby equipment. And age restrictions can always be found on the front of the box.

Toy makers weren't quite so safety-conscious back in the day. Metal was not taboo. In fact, our preschool had a big yellow plastic tunnel in the playroom. A big yellow plastic tunnel with a metal rim around the edges. I loved running around the room and ducking to crawl through the tunnel. Often, I giggled with other kids as we chased each other around the room and through the large yellow tube.

I'm sure that tunnel had been used for years without incident.
But, as I mentioned a couple days ago, I am a klutz. Even at the tender age of three, I was a hopeless mess of boo-boos and bruises. And, coordinated as I was, I managed to run my face right into the metal edge of that yellow tunnel. I bounced right off and landed - splat - on my back. Blood was gushing from the bridge of my nose.

I don't remember much from that day (I was three, after all), but I know my dad was called at work. The teachers laid me down on a stack of folding tables, holding towels or tissues to my nose. I'm pretty sure I was screaming and crying. My Daddy arrived quickly and took me to the doctor. I ended up with some stitches and a genuine fear of that cruel yellow tunnel.

I still have a scar to show for it.

I am happy that toys (and car seats, and high chairs, and cribs...) have become safer since I was Amelia's age. But the next time you are thinking about safety for your young child, just remember: with every safety improvement, there were probably a few kids who suffered. Do you have a nice, soft, collapsible tent/tunnel for your child to run through? Well, you can thank me - and the scar on my nose - for that one.


Linked up to Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop again today!

Back in time

Back in the day, I attended a small Catholic elementary school. Class sizes were generally small, ciriculum was advanced, and we had a great music class. Each year, the 5th grade class would perform a musical/operetta. I remember HMS Pinafore and The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe to name two. My 5th grade class was exceptionally small - only eight students, to be exact. Our music teacher struggled to find a script that would fit our unique cast and eventually settled on a play called Hey George.

I was cast as a princess. I don't even remember the full plot of the play or even the name of my character. But the performance was a really big deal to me. We had a lengthy script requiring lots of singing. I had participated in various Christmas pageants and choir shows in prior years, but this was my chance to stand out as a star!

As we practiced and practiced for opening day, I was excited to perform. But also very nervous. My main singing debut was a duet with my prince. I remember extra work with our music teacher because I had to hit some high notes. I wasn't comfortable singing on my own, especially notes I wasn't sure I could hit when the time came. But I practiced and worked hard, eventually gaining some confidence.

Performance night finally came. Wearing my amazing rose-colored sparkling princess costume, I stepped out onto the balcony on our set. And I opened the play with a funny spoiled princess tantrum. Shortly thereafter, it was time for the big song. And I nailed it! Hit every note and soaked up the applause afterwards. The play went without a hitch, with all of my classmates doing an exceptional job. We received a standing ovation as the curtains closed.

While I don't do it anymore, I never quite got rid of my love for acting. There's something about stepping out of my own life to become a character. Something about expressing emotion through theater that just feels good. I still often get teary-eyed at the end of shows, remembering the rush of looking out onto a theater full of people standing and clapping.

If I could relive a moment in my life, I would relive my 5th grade performance. I poured my soul into becoming a princess. I succeeded after months of dedication and practice. It was such a fabulous feeling.

Everyone could use a standing ovation now and then.

---
This post was inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. Prompt: "“If you could relive any moment in your life, what moment would you choose? Write about it.”

Wordless (almost) Wednesday

I had no idea 2-year olds got report cards!

Why is it, as adults, we often neglect these basic things?

Happy attitude.


Interact appropriately.


Listen.


Cooperate.

Would you ace your preschool report card today?

- - - - - - - - -
Become a Google Friend Connect follower - click "follow" down the left sidebar. One lucky follwer will win a case of yummy Glee Guum tonight!

The things she learns

I am a firm believer in "school" at a young age. For socialization as well as learning. Amelia learns so much more from school than if she were only home with me. There's just something about that environment; the peer pressure of other kids, an authority figure who doesn't break as easily as mommy or daddy, and different toys/book than what we have at home.

Amelia learned her ABCs before I even thought it was time to teach her. She knows her colors, letters, numbers, and they're starting on shapes. It's so exciting to hear her talk about her school lessons at age 2 1/2. She's soaking it all in and, well, she's just brilliant. I'm allowed to say that, right?

You know what else I get a kick out of? The other learnings she brings home from school. The things she learns from the other kids, far from the lesson plan of the day.

While these probably shouldn't entertain me so much, I admit I have to stifle a giggle or two.

She now squashes ants - "Mommy, ____ does this. We step on ants together."

She learned all about spitting - "Hey Mommy, ____ goes pfffffft at lunchtime. It's called spitting. I can spit, but it's a no-no."

And she's learned the fine art of backpack selection - "___ has a monkey backpack. ____ has Dora. ___ doesn't have a backpack, just a school bag. But I like ___'s backpack best. It is blue. Blue is my favorite color. It's a nice backpack."

Ahhh, school. Quite a learning experience all around.

(Working to grow my Google Connect followers - click on the followers box at the right to follow publicly. Thanks!)

Not a toddler anymore

Today was Amelia's first day out of the infant/toddler program and into her "big girl" 2-year old class. It's funny, she's been to that school since she was 3-4 months old. But every year, at the start of each new class, I get sooo nervous. And sad.

Amelia even went to summer school this year. But today she was dropped off into a different classroom with different teachers. No more drop-in tables, only big kid seats. No more sippy cups, only grown-up cups. Luckily, many of her friends moved up into the same class. So they provide her stability.

This morning, my girl was being so brave. She didn't cry. She stood in the classroom by herself for a minute, looking very worried. As I turned to leave, she looked at me. Her face turned pink, her eyes welled up with tears, and that sweet bottom lip began to stick out. She looked like she was about to burst. But she didn't. She stood there, trying to be strong.

Then she whispered, "I love you, Mommy."

AHHHHHH! My heart fell to pieces. But I, too, remained strong and kept my happy face going.

Then Amelia asked, "one more hug, Mommy?". I reached over the half-door and hugged my precious little girl. Then I turned to leave.

Then MY eyes welled up with tears.

That was hard!!! It would have been easier if she just cried.

FIRST giveaway! Back To School

It seems all the kiddos are back to school now. My daughter's preschool class begins August 31st. She attended all summer long, so not a big change for us. I do anticipate some adjustment with the different classroom and teacher, but hopefully nothing too dramatic.

Today, I took her class supplies list to the best place for such a task - WalMart. When you need giant boxes of tissues, baby wipes, and a ton of glue sticks, WalMart is the place. They actually had folders on sale for one cent! I didn't need any folders, but had no idea anything was sold for one cent these days.



To celebrate back-to-school time, I'm giving away a $15 WalMart gift card and an apple charm pin. The pin is in honor of my sister-in-law, who is a teacher and missing the start of a new school year while recovering from her serious accident. Family & friends have been selling these pins as a fundraiser for her. You can have one too!

You can enter for the $15 gift card and pin through August 31st. Winner will be notified by September 2nd.

How to enter:
- Follow me on Blogger (one entry)
- Follow me on Twitter @BalancingMama (one entry)
- 'Like' 3 Moms In One on Facebook (one entry)
- Leave a comment on this post telling me which of these you did (if you're already following on some of these, just remind me).
- Double your # of entries for tweeting: Back-to-school #giveaway at 3MomsInOne.com. $15 WalMart gift card! Enter and follow @BalancingMama http://bit.ly/cb9NYB

Good luck!

Our school photos never looked this nice

Amelia's preschool obtained a professional portrait photographer to take the school photos this year. Gone are the days of cheesy fake library or paint-splattered paper backgrounds. Gone are the furry white pedestals to sit on and the funky ladders to lean against. That's what we had to endure in my day. Maybe that still exists in the middle and high schools? Luckily, I have several years before I find out.

The photographer wanted to take all the school photos outdoors in morning light. And they turned out beautiful! I knew Amelia was gorgeous, but this photo makes those sparkly blue eyes come alive. I bought the rights to the image, but it deserves a big shout-out. Thank you, Shelli Allen Photography!!!!



Please check out Shelli's website HERE.

An Amelia funny re: Jesus (one of those great child moments)

I already posted for today, but can't help but share this story from Amelia's preschool teacher.

Apparently, Amelia is in some kind of disagreement with Jesus. She goes to a church preschool, and today they took the toddlers to the sanctuary to look at the pretty stained glass Jesus. They talked about Jesus and sang the obligatory church school song, "Jesus Loves Me", usually a class favorite. And Amelia, usually the one to shout "more!" at the end of any & every song, kept saying "no! no! no!"

Teacher: "Amelia, don't you want to learn about Jesus?"
Amelia: "NOOOO!"

Teacher: "But you like to sing about Jesus"
Amelia: "NOOOOOO!"

Teacher: "Don't you like Jesus?"
Amelia: "NOOOOOOOO! Yuck."

So how do I explain what that was all about??? And am I allowed to think this is funny? :)