A Day Off

I'm sitting here in my underwear, blogging. Kids all at school (the school I work at and took a day off from). Me? I just read last Sunday's Post Secrets and am crying like a baby.

Miss my daddy.

This will be the twelfth Father's Day gone by.

Whatever his flaws and shortcomings were, I love him. I miss him so much. I am so sad that he is missing out on my children, that he is unable to influence the people they are growing up to be. He would have really loved my kids; they really are a special group of crazy silly smart.

I just recently had my wedding video converted from VHS to DVD. He sang at my reception. With my mom and brother. I watched the DVD last week and it was like they were still alive, just missing somewhere, but certainly, not dead. My father and brother. I don't know how to upload DVD files. But maybe by Sunday I can and give you some video of my daddy.

I should shower. Put on clothes. Savor this little window of time to myself.

Death isn't The End.

Father's Day is Sunday. If your's is still corporeal, could you give him the hugs I wish I could give mine?

The Hobo In Me

I look back on my fashion sense in high school, very much grunge influenced ... I mostly wore boy jeans that were holey and too big. Flannel. Big tee shirts. I have a couple old flannel shirts in my closet from back in the day and on rainy days, I reach for them, then push my hand away. No, Brandy, we don't wear that anymore.

These days I try to be a little less hobo and more granny chic. Just got myself some new Tina-Fey-Sarah-Palin bangs. Oh yeah, Bangs baby. I clip my hair up, all proper. I wear trousers (or are they slacks?) with my t-shirts; and jeans with my button shirts. Shirts with just a little twirl, always at the knee or so.

But ... I'm trying to eat better. I keep reading and learning more interesting things. Last night's health documentary was about vitamins. Evidently, upping your doses of C, E, and B's can pretty much fix everything that is wrong with no side effects (well, E gives me fishy burps if I eat it on an empty stomach).

Our uber stressful lives makes our bodies produce lots of adrenaline and cortisol. I'm not 100% sure, but I think too much of those chemicals would be bad, right? Vitamin C and E are needed to break those chemicals down. But we also need those vitamins for most every function of our body. SO. if we are all stressed and using up our Vitamin resources, is it any wonder why we get sick? And you do megadose Vitamin C when you are sick, right? I do. It seems to help.

I also watch a documentary on Ray Kurzweil. He has wacky ideas about eating. But he is a really smart guy. Takes over a HUNDRED supplements a day. Pops them like candy. So he can live long enough to upload his consciousness into a computer and live forever. It's a plan. 

I don't wanna have a stroke.

I'm getting to the point in my self education where the experts don't agree.

Some say eating fat doesn't matter. Some say it matters a lot.

I like canned sardines.

I always think of sardines as hobo food. I vaguely remember some old cartoon with a hobo opening up a can of sardines and the fish get up and dance around ... (not this one, but in this style of insanity).



Omega 3 is supposed to be good for your brains. Protein is necessary for muscle repair and growth.

But a lot of fat and sodium; they say that;s bad for the heart and stuff.

DO THEY EVEN KNOW ANYTHING??

Its not weird that I really like sardines from a can, is it?

Because I like oysters, too.

Whats The Point Anyway?!

When you have a hard job, more than anything, you want to know you are making a difference. Whether it is motherhood, doctor, president, social worker, actor, writer, or pre-school teacher, when the day/week/month/year has been especially arduous, you just need to KNOW that the stress, guilt, pain, time, energy is WORTH it, that the world is a better place because of what you do.

I can't tell you how many times lately I have asked myself, "GOOD GOD, THIS JOB IS SO HARD, WHY AM I DOING THIS? DO I REALLY WANT TO DO THIS AS MY CAREER? THESE KIDS AREN'T EVEN GONNA REMEMBER HOW I LET THEM PICK THEIR FAVORITE COLOR TO PAINT ANYWAY SO WHAT IS THE POINT AND THEY ARE NEVER NEVER NEVER GONNA REMEMBER TO SIT WHILE THEY EAT ANYWAY."

And then ... I have three (HOLY CRAP, THREE!) more new kids starting on Monday. To go along with my new kid that started this week. And the new kid last week. And the new kid every week or so for 3 or so weeks. Lots of new kids. On Monday, my class will officially be at 14, and 7 started within the last month.

New kids are a great thing. It really means that people have heard good things about my school and are willing to entrust us with the most precious, beloved, important people in their life. Nevertheless, it's one of the most challenging things. Building a bond, helping the child feel safe and loved. You can imagine. I can't begin to really teach the child anything until they feel safe and loved.

Good thing they are so darn cute and easy to love.

But I have had this nagging concern that it doesn't matter. A study of not too long ago showed that the academic advantages of Headstart Programs made no significant overall, long-term academic difference and that makes me worry. Maybe I should be encouraging mothers to stay home with their kids. If pre-school doesn't make their lives better, we need to fnd out what WILL and DO THAT. Right?

But I am madly in love with the Montessori philosophy of education. It is beautiful and elegant and feels so right. I love watching a child concentrating on an activity, mastering it, perfectly absorbed and disciplined. I love the emphasis on peacefulness and self-discipline and kindness. My classroom is much tidier than my home ...

So I have been torn and conflicted. My understanding that pre-school doesn't REALLY matter and my feelings that it HAS to have significant impact.OR WHY AM I DOING IT?

Then I got this link to an NPR podcast and my energy and faith and enthusiasm has been refilled.

Pre-school helps especially with the kids who really really need some help. The studies show SIGNIFICANT advantages all the way up to adulthood. My love and attention and clever North-American-Countries-To-The-Tune-of-Jingle-Bells helps my babies stay out of jail, earn more money, and be more successful with interpersonal interactions. It makes sense. All day long, I remind them to be kind, be quiet, be soft, be gentle, be careful. I tickle them and smile at them. At nap time, I rub their backs and massage their brains or feet. When they are so frustrated they have no words, I loan them them some. When all they can do is scream and cry, I give them space or hugs and remind them to breathe. "Shhh, it's okay. I know. It's hard. You're okay."

At school, they learn a million naughty things they probably wouldn't have picked up if they stayed home with mom or dad, but they also get an opportunity to find themselves, separate from mom and dad. In my class, I try to give them every opportunity to DO and CHOOSE. Last week, I taught them "Squeezing Oranges" and they got to drink their own fresh juice. They really loved that. They love to put paint on a brush and create. I make them bring their own blanket to their mat to lay down and sleep. I remind them to pee and blow their noses and wash their hands so that someday, they will be able to take care of themselves.

AND IT MATTERS! It DOES make a difference. Not just today, but it matters for always.

They said every dollar invested in quality pre-school programs comes back 30 times. I am much happier.

The things Maria Montessori discovered a hundred years ago are being proven over and over again. Children who maybe don't have the awesomest home life can really use a good pre-school. That period of time from birth to maybe 6 sets a person up. If you don't learn how to BE with people, it is harder and harder to teach later AND pretty much impossible to train into an adult.

I'm not saying put your babies in daycare. I'm saying a quality program for a 2-4 hours every weekday, a consistent routine in a safe and enriching environment is probably a good thing for you pre-school age child.

And I'm gonna try to help.

I think it's the best way I can contribute to world peace.

The Value of Life - Eat me.

"I'm a vegetarian. Oh, but I still eat eggs because I'm also Pro-Choice"

--Some comedian in some documentary I once watched. (How's that for citing my source?)

I read an article at Runner's World.com about the need to increase protein to improve health. I have personally found that increasing protein in my diet has been very beneficial to weight lose and feeling good. But I have that nagging "meat bad" thing stuck in my brain.

The comments after the article were as interesting as the article. Now, it is safe to conclude that the commenters were fairly intelligent and fairly health conscious, otherwise they'd be at the Jersey Shore fan site (great, now I gotta find a link for that ...). Many of the comments were from our friends, The Vegetarians: Wah, but what can WE eat?!

I have nothing against people choosing to not eat meat. But there are a couple of myths that do irk me. One is that animal protein is linked to CANCER!!! As one commenter cited:

Some clarification on animal protein and cancer....

Am J Clin Nutr. 2009 May;89(5):1402-9. Epub 2009 Mar 4.

Meta-analysis of animal fat or animal protein intake and colorectal cancer.

Conclusion - On the basis of the results of this quantitative assessment, the available epidemiological evidence does not appear to support an independent association between animal fat intake or animal protein intake and colo-rectal cancer.

There is more evidence that a diet high in sugar/carbs correlates to cancer than a more carnivorous diet. We need to stop propagating unsupported myths and allow new research to teach us more accurate myths.

It's amazing how very few see the painting on the cave wall. It's a large animal and a bow, not flowing waves of grain and a scythe. Man has been eating animals for eons. It makes sense that this is what is best for you. You never hear anybody say, "I'm allergic to meat".

The second thing is the high and mighty tone. I shall not harm another living thing, that all may live in peace. BAH! No living thing lives without MURDERING other living things EVERY SINGLE DAY. A plant's life is as sacred as a cow as a fish as a mushroom as a newborn baby as an unborn baby as a chicken as rose.

Life is sacred. It is a beautiful TEMPORARY miracle. We are all dying from the moment of our birth. What nobler thing to do with one's life than to let your flesh be consumed that another may live on? I am totally pro-cannibalism, by the way. Just one more of many many reasons I will never be president.

Don't be a vegetarian because you think it is a more noble path. Be a vegetarian because you like carrots. Then KILL those carrots often, aware that you are ending their life to continue yours. Just because a carrot doesn't bleed blood, doesn't have a mouth to scream out pain, doesn't make its sacrifice less of a contribution to your life. You filthy carrot killer.

Eat healthy and give thanks to God for this beautiful world that allows death to aid in the continuity of life.

 And when I die, come have some Brandy Stew. I have a good recipe.

Feelings of Abandonment

Got a new batch of babies at school.


Oh, how I love that first week.

They cry and cry and cry. I want my mommy, daddy, monkey ... sigh. I want to give you back to mommy, daddy, and monkey, kiddo.

I try to explain that these super irritating sobs are likely the very reason mom and dad dumped them off in the first place, but the babies are too consumed by grief to really hear me. They can barely breathe, y'know?

Children under two are not fans of  starting school, it seems. They have absolutely no idea what is going on except that everything they know and love has been taken away by the people they trusted most, who have disappeared and they may never get any of it back.

And, just so you know, the teachers, as smiley and sweet as they try to seem, it is really really really really really irritating. Exhausting.

"Normalization" (when your kid finally accepts school as the new routine) takes 6-8 weeks. The first two weeks are the hardest. It is so hard to teach everything from square one. Rolling a rug. Putting things away when finished. Hands to yourself. Sit when you eat. Sitting in circle. How to line up. How to walk in a line. How to not scratch people's eyes out. Take turns. Leave others' stuff alone. Soft voices. No biting. NO TEMPER TANTRUMS!! NO CRYING!!!!!!

It's really hard for everyone. There must be a better way.

All I know: Today, I am really tired of being screamed and yelled at and ignored.

Maybe I don't wanna be a teacher anymore. Maybe I would like to be the kind of teacher who has all summer off. Maybe I would like to talk about teaching theories with adults while staying far away from the trenches.

Also, if my darling daughter could stop with the "I'm a kitty" phase and poop in the potty ...

Whatever becomes of me, I am going to try harder to be patient with sad babies tomorrow. Promise.

Wearing My Religion On My Shirt Sleeve In Public

Read a great article about religion and politics.

It starts out about a Broadway Musical that I imagine won't be playing at the Capitol Theater (SLC) soon (tho, I could be wrong).

Then the article moved on to discuss a play I really like, Angels in America, which I read my first year at college.

In one telling scene a gay man with AIDS named Prior is helped to the hospital by a Mormon woman named Hannah. As they wait for the nurse, the man confesses that he believes he had a vision of an angel, and Hannah responds:

Hannah: "One hundred and seventy years ago, which is recent, an Angel of God appeared to Joseph Smith in upstate New York, not far from here. People have visions."
Prior: "But that's preposterous, that's ... "
Hannah: "It's not polite to call other people's beliefs preposterous. He had great need of understanding. Our prophet. His prayer made an angel. The angel was real. I believe that."
Prior: "I don't. And I'm sorry but it is repellent to me. So much of what you believe."
Hannah: "What do I believe?"
Prior: "I'm a homosexual. With AIDS. I can just imagine what you ... "
Hannah: "No you can't. Imagine. The things in my head. You don't make assumptions about me mister, I won't make them about you."

That's what I try to walk around with in my head: You don't make assumptions about me mister, I won't make them about you.

I think my favorite job to date was Balloon Animal Twister in Denny's, here in Austin. For one, I made 3 times more money at it then I do teaching. For another, I offered my "talent" to everyone, without discrimination, and I really didn't care if they gave me money or not. It made people happy. I did this job for 4 days, two Saturdays and two Sundays and I observed America. Poor and middle class individuals and families of every race, religion, and status. The least likely man, a bearded motorcycle guy, gave me the best tip. A cool teenager who wore my jester hat ironically was inspired to learn the "art" himself when I told him how much I was making an hour. People were nice to me.

People are nice.

So I guess Mitt Romney, that wishy washy Mormon guy, is gonna run for president? Such a waste of money. Also:

Whether a candidate is Mormon, Muslim, Pentecostal, Catholic, Jewish, any other religion, or no religion at all is not grounds in itself for judgment about the commitments or character of a candidate. Like race or cultural background, to vote, or not vote for someone based on religion is prejudice, pure and simple. Remember the Mormon mother's words: "You don't make assumptions about me Mister, and I won't make them about you."

How I Made Brushing Teeth And Flossing Part of My Daily Routine (Thrilling title, Brandy. thrilling. Gonna drive people here by the droves, you are)

I was raised by wolves. That's why I have such terrible table manners and house cleaning skills.


I imagine that children who were not raised by wolves are expected to brush their teeth every morning and night. And take out diapers promptly. And clean sauce off the floor immediately.

However, these things do not come naturally to me.

In 1996, I had a crazy roommate who brushed her teeth while SHOWERING! I know, crazy! And clearly, not raised by wolves. I started keeping my toothbrush and paste in my shower caddy and soon, I, too, brushed my teeth every morning in the shower.


In 2008, my husband finally joined in this crazy, unwolfy behavior. Our toothbrushes and paste LIVE in the shower.

About 5 weeks ago, we put dental floss in the shower. And, as if by magic, I have dental flossed my teeth every single day since. Every day. At first, there was the sensitive, bleeding gums unpleasantness. But now I am proud to announce, my gums are no longer bloody. They love being flossed.

A secret I am sure is true: many illnesses could be avoided by removing the plaque and germs between our teeth before they multiply and infect the rest of our body. At the very least, no gunk between my teeth.

Floss, you!

Thrilling blog post.

Junk Food Trips Me Up, Yet, Calling It a Sucess (but not like election of 2004)

137.4

It's not bad at all for a month of sacrifice and occasional working out.

Plus, I blogged. And I do feel like I learned and experimented and got interesting and informative results.

But, dangit, I do love cheesecake. And raspberries. My hot pants (not to be confused with hotpants) fit again, and really, that is what's important, right? I am consuming much less food, generally, especially sugar and carbs.

So, I'm done with intentional deprivation and moving on to simple, cautious, informed eating and calorie counting (because I paid for the app, and I like using it. I enjoy seeing how the veggie side dish at Applebees is 120 calories cuz its tossed in butter, etc.)

Now I can go back to my irregular rant of a blog journal. You can resume readership.

I Should Exercise More

Stuff I Keep Thinking 'Bout Instead of Runnin' and Sweatin'

1. No one's gonna kidnap my kids and if they did, they'd have their hands full of unruly defiant willful disobedience. It's like gay marriage ... you want this??!

2. I think fish oil makes my fingernails grow ... grrr ... this things don't bite themselves.

3. Canon keeps touching my boobs "accidentally" then apologizing sweetly for touching my boobs accidentally. It is disturbingly polite and rude at the same time.

4. When small children say your big red sunglasses look funny ... hmmm. Sometimes I wonder about my hobo-gramma-crazy-person sense of bohemian style. If its on sale and I'm attracted, I should walk away.

5. I forgot I was blogging, oops.

Weight - 138.6