My Little Ladybugs: All in a Row

Last May I participated in 31 Days to Clean, and truly seemed to make headway into organizing my home.  I suppose what surprises me is that over a year later I am still making alterations to that organization - with the intent of making things even better and streamlined.

One of the areas of my home that seems impossible to keep up with is: The Ladybugs' Play Room.

*not my Ladybugs*

I should be honest, reader, and tell you that I do make the ladybugs clean their spaces.  I also do a quick clean-up each morning after they get dressed, and each evening before they enter Slumberville.  But picking up clothing from the floor and making sure library books aren't integrated (and therefore, lost) into our collection is far from maintaining organization.  

I came to a sobering conclusion yesterday - having children means having tons of little "stuff" that is saved, collected, and stashed wherever it can fit.  And what is the bane of my existence?  You guessed it: vending machine toys.

oh the possibilities!

And where do these little items go?  Behind the TV, in the couch, under the seats in the car, and other lovely locations around our little home.  

For awhile I had this grand plan to organize the ladybugs' toys, but I finally resisted the urge and simply made a place for everything.  I even labeled the bins so I didn't always have to be overseeing the cleanup process. I truly hate standing in a doorway spouting encouraging comments through a grimaced face.  And in the last year, this seems to placate my need to see floor when I pass by the Play Room.

I suppose, reader, you could question why I even leave the Play Room door open.  Very good question.  However, our home is not large.  The Play Room is directly across from our upstairs Bathroom.  Having the door open makes the hallway space a bit larger, and well, "roomier."  It's all an illusion.  

This morning, while the Ladybugs were at VBS, I went through their Play Room's closet.  I did find out where they had stashed some of their trinkets when I have asked them to pick up their "stuff."  I aslo successfully relocated some toys in the attic and brought some older toys to the forefront.  I find satisfaction in my ladybugs finding enjoyment out of toys they had forgot.  I didn't go through each toy bin, but I do go through those after birthdays and Christmas.  Mainly because I have to find homes for all the new "stuff" brought into the home.  

Tomorrow I am tackling a storage unit in our basement.  It has a lot of old paint, and fortunately there is a hazardous waste pick up in our community on Saturday.  So I plan on really taking care of this space.  Hopefully VBS will allow me enough time to complete this daunting task!

My Favorite Witch

Witch Hazel

With all the pricey face products on the market, I was curious what most contained.  Today I will focus on toners, sometimes called: cleansers.

I spent countless hours reading the ingredients of the popular toners on the market.  I knew there would be many with names that I could not pronounce, but I was surprised that some even contain acid!  When I have used toners in the past, I have been pretty unimpressed with the additional services they provide.  I used to be of the mindset: what ever happened to good 'ol soap and water with a washcloth?

I have come leaps and bounds from using soap and a washcloth, but I still wonder what makes expensive products better than Dove bar soap.  Upon research, I was disgusted with what goes into a toning product.  Did you know some of the big brand name companies put coloring in their products?  Yeah, who doesn't need a little Blue #1 and some Red #33 or maybe a bit of Yellow #5? Ugh. Gross.

My research changed, and I began searching for something that would remove the excess dirt and grime, but not leave my face completely crusty and dry.  I was always impressed with the amount of dirt alcohol pulled off my skin - even after washing.  However, it was too harsh and most often caused my skin to get very dry.  Of course I never thought the wintergreen version of rubbing alcohol was a smart choice in a household with children. I also wanted a product that was inexpensive AND without ingredients that were impossible to pronounce.

So I decided to purchase a bottle of witch hazel.  You would think I was looking for uranium when I asked the store clerk at Kroger for a bottle.  She said, "I guess it would be by the rubbing alcohol.  But I don't think we have any."  I also had to search behind a few bottles of alcohol to finally find the witch hazel bottle at CVS.  You'd think I was looking for something gone the way of the dinosaurs.  And then I thought, well maybe people like buying astringents with food coloring and ingredients they cannot pronounce - just because the bottle is pretty and/or because it is from a company with great marketing.

So now, each evening I use witch hazel to clean the dirt from my pores, and I am very happy with its astringent characteristics.  I apply it with cotton balls to my dirty face, rather than washing with soap and water.  I apply it again to tighten my skin.  Of course I always moisturize afterward.

But I definitely feel that for a small price: $4.69 for a 16oz bottle, one cannot beat witch hazel for its benefits as a toner.  It is definitely Stuff That Really Works.

The Non-Prodigal Daughter

I'm sure most people know the parable of the Prodigal Son from Luke 15:11-32.  If not, here is my interpretation:

There is a family with a father and two sons.  The youngest is a spoiled brat who keeps bugging his father to receive his inheritance before his father dies.  The father finally relents, and says, "okay, here ya go!"  The youngest son then runs off to squander his riches.  Poor and destitute the youngest son returns and his father welcomes him with open arms and provides a lavish feast.  Meanwhile, the eldest brother is upset because his father has never given anything to him (not even a goat to eat with friends).  The Father reassures his eldest son that as the eldest he will inherit what is the father's, but that it is wonderful his brother has returned.

I have always been extremely bothered by this story.  On one hand, one can view the parable father as our Father in Heaven.  When we stray he is accepting and loving when we return to his fold.  That no matter what happens our Father will love us unconditionally.  Okay, I get that.  However, what about the other son?  Nothing is ever discussed about how he deals with the return of his special brother.  It is kind of reminiscent of Jacob's son Joseph and his relationship with the other brothers.  The youngest seems to get special treatment - no matter what.

To me, the eldest son did what was right, what he was SUPPOSED to do.  He did not beg his father for his inheritance before it was due, nor did he squander the money and bring shame to his family.  He did the RIGHT thing.

This parable hits very close to home.  I have spent my life doing what is right.  I was a bit mouthy as a child, but I always practiced my piano, did my homework, and did well in school.  I changed my major to business when I was convinced that music was a "silly" choice as a career; business would be more practical.  I only smoked cigarettes when I went out with friends, and had a handful of clove cigarettes during that time as well.  I never did drugs, I never failed to pay a bill, I never even got a speeding ticket until I was in my 20s.  I graduated high school and college with honors, and taught Sunday School every Sunday morning.

Oh there were failures: my first marriage, friendships, attempts at children's books, submissions of music, etc.  But in each failure there was a life lesson, and none involved not following "the rules".  In fact, maybe I should have NOT followed the rules more often.

Recently we were hoping to refinance our home.  It was purchased in 2002 during the housing boom.  We bought a "fixer-upper" and boy did we sink money into it.  But we only purchased something within our means.  We only used Jim's income, and the improvements have been mostly cosmetic and tender loving care.  When the government was helping out people who were having problems paying their mortgages I became very frustrated.  Even when Jim was unemployed in 2003, I paid the bills.  It was a struggle, but I did it.  When the government offered options for those who never missed a payment, I was thrilled!  However, only those with mortgages 150% or less under water could qualify.  What are we?  250%!  Yeah, so that's that.

I also can't help feeling frustrated when time and time again a person can show his/her true colors, but because of the blood relation we are supposed to overlook the events and behavior and welcome said person back into the fold.  I realize that is THE RIGHT thing to do, but it is ever so frustrating.  This person did wrong, and yet we are supposed to forget and forgive and move onward.

I suppose that I am the non-prodigal daughter.  The daughter who has done pretty much everything that she was supposed to do.  I must say that there are times when I feel it would be easier to be the other daughter - wouldn't it?

Coffee Face Mask

I am a beauty product junkie.  Not really a make-up junkie, but find me a cream or mask or special product to eliminate large pours and well...I'm there!

I have been searching for high quality products that are inexpensive as well as homemade products that can take the place of buying factory made items with unhealthy ingredients.  Because of this rather unhealthy obsession, I have decided to devote a weekly (or every-other-week) blog on STUFF THAT REALLY WORKS!

My first blog is about a fantastic face mask that really provided results.  I have been unimpressed with many homemade face masks and scrubs, mostly because they leave my face feeling too dry or too oily or too blah.  I have been trying to organize my home this week - which has pretty much left a lot of stuff out (hence this lovely image):

So I noticed that I had not tried a gift from a piano student yet - Starbucks Tribute Blend beans.  My Keurig can brew your OWN blend, and I just happen to have the little device.  However, I am too lazy in the morning to grind the beans.  So I ground a bit on Monday and noticed that my whole mood changed.  I became much happier.  I had this brilliant thought - what if I made a coffee mask?  Then I had another brilliant thought - I can google recipes that other people already concocted!

I ran across a few recipes, but was smitten with a certain Crunchy gal who seemed to have her act together on homemade products.  I was certainly surprised at how my face felt while the mask was on - cool and refreshed and how I felt after the facial - ready for my day.  This is a big deal, because I woke with laryngitis and a migraine.  Even a day later my skin feels fantastic!  So I have to say this is STUFF THAT REALLY WORKS!

Here is a link to the original recipe on Crunchy Betty's blog: Mocha-Frappuccino Mask

Here is the recipe I used yesterday morning:

Coffee Mask

• 2 Tbsp freshly ground coffee
• 2 Tbsp. cocoa powder
• 3 Tbsp. plain yogurt
• 1 Tbsp. honey

Incorporate all ingredients well.  Use fingertips to cover entire face.  Relax for 15 minutes.  Get in hot shower.  Use water to loosen mask with fingertips.  Move fingertips in circular motions to get the scrub benefits of the coffee grounds.  Continue until mask is completely removed.  This could take a little while - the coffee grounds are messy.  However, this is why I removed the mask in the shower.

THINK

Well, the Summer has officially started for the Martin family.  Friday and yesterday were spent at parties and promotions, as the school year finally ended.  I must say though, I wish Zoe's dance recital was complete because then we would be free as birds.  But alas, only one more week.  I should be saying, "I think I can!"

I plan on having the ladybugs work on reading, writing and math this summer.  However, I told them they have two weeks to decompress from school.  This week we have 3 doctor appointments: orthodontist for Zoe, allergist and well visits for both.  I promised that we could incorporate other activities around the doctor visits: Jungle Java (I have two free passes), Greenfield Village, and the library.  The second week the ladybugs will attend VBS at the church attached to their school.  Even though the program is in the mornings, I will continue with the "time off" for our brains - we truly all need it (probably me most of all)!

With a Summer full of fun times ahead, I am not without concern.  The attitudes of my ladybugs have become quite challenging.  Zoe has become quite the mouthy child, and oftentimes gets in more trouble for her verbal reaction to a consequence than her initial behavior/action.  Swear words to her are: stupid, dumb and anus.*  However it isn't the words she uses but her snotty attitude that accompanies her language.  I have been dreading the summer for this reason.  However, earlier I ran across a kind of acrostic poem.  I printed it for free, and I am going to hang it and hopefully get the ladybugs to understand the importance of it.

Before You Speak Think

*One Sunday Zoe came home and proceeded to state that she learned there was an "a" word that meant butt.  Apparently an older student her her class (we have a one room Sunday School) told her and the other younger children that "butt" was not a swear word, but there was an "a" word that was a swear.  Now reader, my girls go to a school that reprimands the students for all potty words (butt included), so this was news to Zoe.  However, I immediately responded with, "Oh!  Yes, anus is the technical term for a butt hole and that must be what he meant."  Thank God for that one, because it truly made the situation a lot simpler.  

Glitter Toes

This past week has been a complete Debbie-Downer - emotionally speaking that is.  I basically feel like every area in my life is at a stand-still or worse yet: sad.

I suppose, reader, this is where I go into detail of all the depressing stuff surrounding my life.  However, I'd rather just do bullet points.  I know, that seems formal; but I really want to share without super intricate details.

1) A job I took to make a little money this summer (accompanist on June 20th) took a seriously bizarre turn.  The music director was fired.  She thought I wanted her job.  I receive 1 -3 emails per day, to which I am copied to have the information.  When said music director realized I was in fact not interested in her job, she responded with: oh, the inquiry came from a Melissa Martin not Michelle Martin.  Nice.

2) After secretly desiring the music teacher job at the Ladybugs' school, the job came available.  Within 24 hours I was told the position would be shared, and thus I needed a teaching certification.

3) My weight loss has taken a nice plateau.  I know what I need to do: exercise.  I also know what I don't want to do: exercise.

4) My spiritual life seems a bit clouded.  I know what I believe, but I am having a lot of concern about continuing to worship where we've been for the last 7 years.  **this is a topic for another blog**

5) Professionally I feel inferior.  I lack a teaching certification.  I was accused of vying for another professional's job.  And one of my vocal students, which I have only been teaching a short time AND who had the part of Amaryllis in The Music Man (did I mention she is 9?), was told by her music teacher at school that I was not teaching her correctly.  I basically feel like throwing up my hands and saying, "God - am I not in the right profession?"

The best thing I could do - even though I am feeling very down - is to paint my toes with glitter polish.  I must say that glitter toes is a nice diversion from the rest of the craziness.  I am a survivor, and I know I will pull out of this funk.  Usually my funks last a day or two - but I am confident the emotions will turn around soon.  I hope, at least.

Why is a Piece of Paper So Important?

Almost three years ago, I sat in the sanctuary at the ladybugs' school and watched a Christmas concert.  I listened to music choices from the teacher, and thought: I could do this job.  In fact, I could do a better job.  The Kindergarteners did only one selection, and yet the preschoolers did multiple songs.  The children's faces were vacant, but some had beautiful voices that stood out.  At that moment, I turned to my mom and said, "I would LOVE to do that job!"

Now, reader, I realize that is a VERY unChristian way of thinking.  But I admit I thought a job that was part-time (2 days a week) and did fun shows would be perfect for my already busy teaching and Mommy schedule. So when the music teacher position was mentioned in the school newsletter on Wednesday, my brain went "WOOT!"  It was available for fall!  What could be better?!

Okay, so reality was that this fall Evie is still only in school 3 days a week.  However, the current teacher is there two of the days Evie is in school.  That works.  But I would only have one morning a week to myself.  Not a lot of time to get things accomplished.  But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, right?

I sent my bio and interest email to the principal, per the instructions found in the above newsletter.  My bubble was burst very quickly, when I was told the school was going to choose a candidate that could be shared with the public school.  Therefore, I would need a valid teaching certificate from the state.

I completely understand the need to follow rules, and I want the best for our school.  However, what really baffles me is that my experience and qualifications would make a new certificate holder's brain explode.  But we live in a society that gives emphasis on a degree or certification.  That piece of paper does not ensure the person is qualified to teach.

I am reminded of a time when people passed a test and were able to teach (ala Laura Ingalls Wilder), or Doctor Howard who decided to come home one day (without finishing his schooling) and set up shop as a doctor. His office is at Greenfield Village, and he was really quite a wonderful doctor.  And we ALL know who Laura is via her books and the hit TV series.  So does one with a degree (a measly piece of paper), know their field better than one who has been engrossed in the field for 10, 15, or 20 years?  I think not.

I am not pressing the issue at the school.  The principal and some other parents know my desires and my skills.  Nothing is set in stone.  But I also don't want to ruffle feathers or upset the masses.  So I will sit, quietly, and plan my fall schedule around my girls and my current teaching load.  I will focus on the blessings that I have been given, and pray that whomever is chosen to fill the vacancy will be a perfect fit.

But in all honesty I will also be praying that God will work through the decision makers and maybe, just maybe, I will have a chance to speak about the position further.