And she never complained

In just a few days, it will be 4 years since we lost my mom, Leta Schwiderski.  At the time of her death, I wanted to deliver a eulogy at her funeral.  The Diocese of Peoria has a "rule" against this type of addition to the liturgy so I was denied the opportunity.  It was probably just as well because I wouldn't have been able to get through it but I have always regretted not sharing my thoughts.  Since this blog is my way of working through things in my life, I'm using it as a forum to get past the regrets.
Our mother, grandmother, sister-in-law, and friend, Leta Schwiderski lived a life much different ours. She did not have the advantages that she made sure that Frank and I had but she never complained.
Mom was born in 1917 in Toluca, Illinois to immigrant parents, Massimo and Maria Passini (or Paseni...no one was ever sure of the spelling as her parents were illiterate in both Italian and English), the youngest of four children.  Massino passed away in the early 20's leaving Maria with four children and no mean with which to return to Italy. She housed single coalminers as boarders (in a two bedroom "company" house), took in washing (with a wringer washer and outdoor clotheslines) and cleaned the local post office.  Mom never shared much of her childhood memories but she also never complained.
Mom attended St. Ann's elementary school (as did my brother and I) and intended to go on to high school.  When the first day of what would have been her freshman year came, Mom made plans to meet her friends on the corner across from the school.  Whether it was a communication problem or whether Mom was late to the meeting place, I have never learned.  When she arrived, her friends had already gone in.  Mom was very shy and she could not make herself walk into that building alone.  So, instead, she walked 3 blocks to the local garment factory and applied for a job.   At age 14, Mom went to work full time.  I'm sure that she missed doing what her friends were doing at school but she never complained.  Her weekly paycheck went to help with the family's living expenses.  She bought a wooden ironing board with some of her first paycheck....the ironing board is in my laundry room.  It is no longer used but it's still here, part of the family.
Our dad, Clarence (Bud) Schwiderski noticed Mom and pursued her relentlessly.  Mom was not interested and perhaps Dad's sense of style had something to do with that.  Dad was a farmer and had the habit of going "uptown" in his denim bib overalls, minus a shirt and with a red bandanna tied around his neck.  This was not something Mom considered in good taste or the height of fashion but it was the Depression...  Dad finally wore her down and she improved his look.  He never gave up the bibs but he added a shirt and lost the bandanna.  They dated for several years and Mom waited patiently through World War II, writing to Dad every day.  All of her friends were in the same situation, waiting for their fiancees so I'm sure that she never complained.  After all, he was coming home and all in one piece.
When Dad came home from the War, he wanted a more secure future for his family than farming could provide so he went to work at Caterpillar Tractor Company in Peoria.  Dad was an avid hunter and outdoorsman so his choice of second shift (3 to 11 p.m.) was perfect for him.  He could still hunt in the morning and when nothing was in season, he could do private contractor work.  That choice left Mom at home alone every night.  I'm sure that she hated it but she knew what Dad needed to be happy and she never complained.
Dad's second shift work made Mom a single parent in many ways.  Parent-teacher conferences, extracurricular clubs and sports and everything that was involved in parenting was pretty much left up to Mom.  It wasn't that Dad didn't care, it was that times were different and Dad put our financial stability ahead of his parenting responsibilities.  And Mom never complained.
Mom walked everywhere she went.  She never learned to drive a car.  Everything that she needed was located within walking distance from the house that Dad built less than a block away from her mother's home. The grocery store, post office, church and bank were all within walking distance.  Shopping for clothes was another matter.  She shopped mostly from the Montgomery Ward catalog but we did need to shop for school clothes and Christmas gifts.  If Dad wasn't available to drive us to Streator or Peoria, Mom had to ask someone to take us on these shopping trips.  Aunt Rita usually got the call and Mom paid for the gas.  I know that she felt that she was imposing on others but she really had no other choices and she never complained.
Frank and I were fortunate to be able to attend college and that meant moving away.  I know that Mom was lonely during these years because she was truly at home alone in the evenings and no longer had the responsibilities of taking care of us. When I came home for a weekend, I used to complain because she talked the entire time that I was home....I couldn't find a minute to myself.  But Mom never complained about being alone.  And she was proud to have two college graduates when she had not been able to make herself walk into the high school.
We also made Mom proud by each marrying a terrific spouse and presenting her and Dad with 5 grandchildren.  These grandchildren were the highlights of her life.  (And being a Nonie now, I understand completely how much she loved the title!) She understood that jobs moved us far from home and that meant time with these grandbabies was limited.  We came back to Illinois as often as we could and she and Dad drove out to see us a couple of times a year.  She would have preferred to see our families daily but she understood and she never complained.
A lifetime of smoking cigarettes result in Dad developing COPD.  His last years were tough ones and their travels came to an end.  There were many hospital stays, many doctor's appointments, and lots of medication but Mom never complained about the care that Dad needed.
Dad passed away in 1998 and we were all worried about how Mom would handle being alone with no one to care for after all the of the years of devotion to us and then Dad.  She surprised us by forcing herself out of her comfort zone and discovered the senior citizen services provided by the state.  Mom joined a group of ladies who hopped on the county van every week for a shopping trip to Peoria, Streator, Pontiac or Bloomington.  She made a whole new circle of friends and faithfully joined those bus trips even if she had no shopping needs.  She especially enjoyed the "secret" stops that the bus made at the local casino.  Since this was a state-provided service, the driver was technically not allowed to make this gambling visit but everyone was sworn to secrecy and you never saw a happier bunch of ladies....imagine..putting one over on the state of Illinois!  There were no big winners but the adventure was enough excitement for them.
Mom was able to live on her own for many years even when she could no longer hop on the bus.  Friends like Cathy Althaus and Joanne Butenas were there to fill in when Frank and I could not.  But the time finally came when it was no longer safe for Mom to live on her own.  She moved into assisted living at Heritage Manor in Minonk and this time, she did complain.  She wanted to be back in her own little house where she could stand on her front porch and see the place where her childhood home had stood.  She wanted to eat what she wanted to eat and watch TV when she felt like it.  She wanted to go to the church that she had been married in, where I had been married and where Dad's funeral had been.  She wanted to sit by her picture window and keep an eye on the neighborhood.  (Her vision was awful but she never missed a thing and could tell me how many strange cars had been at neighbor Kay's over the weekend.) But she did understand and finally adjusted to life at the Manor.

One of my favorite memories of Mom during this time was her 90th birthday.  We hosted a dinner for her at Capponi's (which she always preferred to Mona's).  Her family and 3 out of the 5 grandchildren were there as were the ladies from the bus.  It was a memorable evening and one she truly enjoyed.
We were able to have Mom with us until just days before her 92nd birthday.  She lived a long life and one that was, for the most part happy, but even in the bad times, she never complained.   I miss her every day and Sundays just don't seem right without our weekly phone conversation.  But I do know that Mom has been reunited with Dad and the rest of the family and that if there is a shopping van, I am sure that she is on it.  Now if I could only stop complaining!

Observations on the teen species

Recently I had the opportunity to substitute in a local high school library.  During breaks in inventory, (a hand can only hold a scanner for so long) I was able to observe the teens of our species in their (sort of) natural habitat.  I found that things have changed since teens lived in our home.
Let's break these observations down into categories.

1)  Behavior
When clustered in groups, the girls clump together in an ever shifting mass.  They frequently move to talk to other members of the group who may be standing in a different spot. It looks a bit like birds on a wire that are constantly fluttering to a new position.  The leader seems to change in each subgroup for no apparent reason other than that someone else has something to say.  There are several conversations going on at one time with no common theme. It's noisy but controlled (usually). When the bell rings or something else causes the group to move, they do so as a mass, dropping off the members in various spots until the group dissolves.
The boys, however, gather in a much more organized manner.  It starts with a couple of guys just chatting in the hallway.  As a new member of the group arrives, the gathering begins to form a circle, Soon it looks like they are gathered around an imaginary campfire. The boys may chat with those on either side of them but no one moves to cross the campfire to get closer to someone else.  There seems to be a leader to whom they all defer....waiting for wisdom perhaps.  When the group breaks up (to go to class perhaps or to find a place to hide so that they can skip class) they wander off in small groups.
Hugging is of vital importance.  When students meet in the hall or the library, they must hug as if they have not seen each other in weeks or months when in actuality, it has been approximately 15 minutes.  This may be a Southern thing as I don't recall this being commonplace in Illinois.  The parting greeting is "love you, girl (or guy)".

2) Fashion
Both boys and girls have the same uniform....skinny jeans and a t-shirt.  I am not sure that everyone who is wearing skinny jeans should be doing so and I am also not sure where they shop. In three days I believe that I saw maybe three girls in skirts or dresses. Footwear is universally athletic shoes or sandals.  Many of the students seem to have taken advantage of spring shoe sales as the athletic shoes are blindly white.  Socks come in a variety of colors and seldom match.  I guess matching socks is just not a priority.  The "saggy" pants style seems to have passed....at least in this economically and ethnically diverse community.
When it comes to hairstyles, the differences between the boys and the girls is very obvious.  The boys sport a variety of hair styles...long..buzzed...buzzed on the sides and long on the top...spiked....falling into the eyes...any style seems acceptable.  Hair products are very evident and it is obvious that much time is spent on styling.  The girls have only one style....long.  It can be curly, straight, pulled into a ponytail with a scrunchy, or piled up on the top of the head in a messy bun.  Styling does not seem important....length is the key.  In three days, I saw less than one dozen girls with an alternate style.  Hair color seems more important than product.  Teal, lavender and yellow seem to be the most popular hues for the spring.
The one accessory that is mandatory for both males and females is a set of earbuds.  These come in a variety of colors and are removed and inserted frequently.  I am concerned about their hearing ability as they age and predict that hearing aid technology will be a growth industry.

3) General Observations
Teens today are much more "grown up" than we were at that age and even than our 30-something children were. They are definitely more worldly.  Do they have the maturity to deal with all of this worldliness?  I hope so but I do have my doubts.  And after spending 3 days with them, I am no longer in fear for my care as I age.  I might not want them to be my doctors but I think I can safely count on them to take care of my in my nursing home.  Of course, they won't be able to hear either but that is something we can share.

Popular

While subbing in a middle school library recently things were rather slow. I had few classes scheduled. The student library assistants took care of the mundane clerical tasks. Students who came in for research were independent and needed little help from a sub. The shelves appeared to be in order so there was no need to reorganize. So....what is a library sub to do? Well....find a book to read, of course.

I stumbled across a title that sounded interesting even though it was nonfiction.  ( I generally don't read nonfiction....just a personal preference.)  The title was Popular; How a Geek in Pearls Discovered the Secret to Confidence by Maya Van Wagenen.  Having struggled with popularity my entire lifetime and being a self proclaimed geek, I was intrigued. Add the fact that the author was 15 years old and I was hooked.

The book that changed Maya's lfe..

This book is a memoir/journal of the author's 8th grade year in a Brownsville, Texas public school.  While helping her college professor father reorganize his personal library, Maya runs across a 1950's guide to popularity. (He apparently picked this book up at a used book store and bought it for a laugh.) Maya reads this book and takes its advice to heart. She decides to follow this
guide through her 8th grade year in an attempt to see if it would raise her from her geek status.

All I can say is WOW! What a transformation this decision brings to Maya's life and, for a brief time, to the culture of her school.  I literally could not stop reading this book or book talking it to every student and teacher I encountered.  What a perfect book study for the right group of middle school girls!  How I wished I had read something like this when I was that age. Could I have followed Maya's example? Not in a million years!  If you think cliques are bad in the current middle school, you haven't lived through the 1970's in small town Illinois....trust me!

And this book stayed with me. I kept thinking about it days after I had finished reading it. Then something interesting happened. In the book Maya categorizes the middle school food chain from the popular volleyball girls thru the lowest of the low, substitute teachers. (Regular teachers are rated a 9.) While I was subbing at this school and after I had finished the book, a teacher was scheduled to bring 2 of her 7th grade reading classes to the library. Because these students were facing the state mandated tests the following week, I elected to use this time as a checkout period. That is not what this teacher had in mind for thess class periods. She expected a lesson for her darlings, something that she was not required to plan or in which to participate.  When she learned of my plan, she seated herself at a table in the back of the room and actually folded her hands as if to say, "They are all yours, honey." Her classes' behavior was totally out of control and I could not reign them in. She did nothing to support me or to curb their behavior.  Now this teacher was a cute, perky blond in her mid 30's. Think drill team captain or volleyball team girl....do you see where I am going here? It suddenly dawned on me that this was exactly what Maya encountered in middle school and that I was, in fact, the lowest of the low....a substitute teacher.  I wish I could say that I reached into this book and pulled out some wisdom that saved the day and made me the most awesome sub ever but that didn't happen. What happened was that this experience opened my eyes to the fact that this was not an adolescent phenomenon. This social hierarchy exists with people (women) no matter what their age. And few of us are brave enough to step forth like Maya and face it head on.

I wish that my book club was a female only book club but it is not. This book is so worth the attention of adult, ladies book clubs.  What a discussion it would bring about of how women treat each other, no matter their age. Unfortunately guys would not relate.....boys and men have their own pecking order but Maya's solutions would not work and I don't think guys could relate.

So if you are looking for a great read or have a middle school young lady in your sphere of influence, please pick up Popular by Maya Van Wagenen. I personally guarantee that you won't be sorry.

Mothers of sons

Mother's Day is always a bittersweet celebration for me. I can almost hear the collective sigh of relief from my family that the spring gifting season is over.....our wedding anniversary followed by my birthday and then Mother's Day is almost more than the males can handle.  

I recall those early years of our marriage when, at Sunday mass on Mother's Day, the priest would ask all of the mothers to stand for special recognition. I desperately wanted to join those standing but God had not yet blessed us with our sons. It was another example of my belief that I was a cucumber in a world of watermelons and all I could think about was being a watermelon. Not being able to stand with the watermelons was a knife in my heart.

Then there were the years that the entire family dreaded going to church on Mother's Day because we knew what we had to look forward to when it came time for the homily.  Father Jerry always started off his sermon with something like, "Please stand so that we can bless all of the mothers here today even though I hate this day. You see, my mother died on Mother's Day." Talk about a buzz kill!  If his intention was to make us all feel sorry for him, it worked but probably not in the way he hoped. I felt sorry that he felt the need to try to spoil the day for everyone else and it reinforced my opinion that he was a deeply troubled individual.

I lost my mom almost 6 years ago and I miss her every every day...not just on Mother's Day.  I still think that I should make that phone call every Sunday.  A 40 year old habit is hard to break.

Those gifts that the boys made at preschool and elementary school were definitely the sweet

moments.  I'm thankful that I can look forward to reliving these joys vicariously through our DIL as her time to be on the receiving end of these glue ladened treasures is just beginning. I still have some of these favorite gifts pressed away in baby books. 

But being the mother of only boys puts the "holiday" in a different perspective. I've envy my friends as they rushed off to those Mother/Daughter banquets, those Mom and me spa days, those girl's only shopping trips. I know God knew what he was doing when He decided that I wouldn't be the best parent for a girl....I'm horrible at hair bows and makeup...but missing out on buying that First Communion dress and watching your baby girl say yes to THE dress are moments I'll never have.  Boys don't need a mother to pick out a tux and in the case of a wedding even they really have little say in the matter.  The bride has final approval of all things wedding. I've missed those shared mother daughter confidences. Boys don't tell you about their first loves...you are forced to guess...or, as I did, interrogate their friends.  Boys generally are not sentimental so those family treasures that have passed from generation to generation will likely not pass on once I'm gone.  Understandably a DIL doesn't know those family stories and has her own family history to carry on.  She doesn't know that the trunk in the bedroom is the one that my nonie carried all of her worldly possessions in on her trip to the new world or that the wooden box on the chest in the living room is my grandma's sewing box that once held the most fascinating collection of buttons.  No one will want that wooden ironing board that my mother purchased with her first paycheck.  I don't recall what I bought with my first paycheck but I'm fairly certain it wasn't an ironing board.  The brave young lady that marries into a family with only sons is not in an enviable position...trust me, I know.

So in the absence of birth daughters I filled my life with virtual daughters....sweet young teachers who needed a school mom (yes, SGW, that is you), young mother neighbors whose own moms were miles away (LDM), students whose mothers didn't "understand" them, high school girls who didn't fit in anywhere and hid out in the library, young friends who needed an adult to plead their case for unlimited texting, and the step daughter of a dear friend who needed a designated mom on girls only outings. ( I was the only mom without a daughter and I'm sure she felt sorry for me and wanted me to feel included. She was like that.)  I'm sure I will continue to add to my collection of "daughters". 

But finally with the addition of a fabulous DIL and beautiful granddaughter (AKA Miss Perfect) I can join the Mother/Daughter club. I know it isn't really the same as I must share them with other strong women in her family but it's a step in the right direction. And maybe, some day, I'll get to share in that "Say yes to the dress" moment.... Things are looking up.

The care and feeding of a substitute teacher

At the one year anniversary of my retirement, DH and I sat down to take stock of our financial situation. I discovered, to my disappointment, that we were not where I thought we were on our financial road. I had not adjusted my spending to match our reduced income (imagine that!) and we had used more from our savings "envelope " than I had realized.  If we wanted to continue to travel with our still working friends, I would need to find a way to add to our income stream.

While I love my quilting business, it doesn't really result in much income. The general public doesn't understand the costs involved in making a quilt so my profit margin is slight. If I charge what a quilt is actually worth in materials and labor, I have little or no business.  So in order to have some business, I charge less than I should.
 

Now what to do to add to the income?  Retail? Nope.....don't want to work nights and weekends.  Public library work? Same thing, nights and weekends.  Childcare?  Nope....only if it is Mr. Perfect or his equally perfect sister and I could not charge to care for these perfect babies.  And the whole idea of working is to earn some money.  Fast food?....you must be kidding!  Too out of shape to get into the fitness business.  Not even gonna consider cleaning houses when I have a domestic goddess that does that for ME!  What am I trained and qualified to do? That's it...I'll register as a substitute teacher in my former school district. (I do miss being around the kids so it's a win-win.)
 

I made all of the right calls, filled in all of the paperwork (not easy to remember some of that 40 year old information), and finally got approved to be a substitute.  At first I intended to only sub for the librarians in my former district but these ladies are a healthy group and the calls just weren't coming in so I decided to venture into the classroom. Of course, I set some limits for myself....No kindergarten, first grade or pre k; No math!; No high school (those big kids scare me!).  

I started accepted assignments carefully and discovered that I didn't hate it.  Oh I got stuck in a few math classes when I was asked to cover some classes other than the job I had accepted and those did not go well.  But no one was permanently injured and I learned that I really do hate math. Of course my favorite assignments are still in the library and in my former school.  I'm still remembered somewhat fondly by the kids there and this proves that absence really does make the heart grow fonder!
 

But I've learned a few things by being on the other side of the employment contract and I've learned that even though I like the kids in the classes, there are some schools that I just don't like and that I will avoid in the future. The rest of this blog post (rant) is really for my teacher friends so some of you can just stop reading now....unless you want the view of the classroom from the sub's point of view.
 

So here are my suggestions for teachers to keep in mind when preparing for a sub or encountering a substitute in your building

1.  All of us who are subbing appreciate a well written lesson plan and for the most part, the plans I have found are quite good. 

2.  If your lesson plans involve the use of technology (even something as simple as watching the morning announcements or taking lunch count) please leave the password for your computer and bookmark the site I need on the desktop. Also please do not assume that we know how to use your document camera and digital projectors.  There are many brands of these out there and they all operate slightly differently. Some of us are older and don't know how to use a smart board. Yes, I know that the kids can show us but we actually like to look slightly smarter than a second grade student.

3. Please leave the lunch and recess times in your plans. (Believe it or not, we can't always believe the kids).

4. Please ask your grade level buddies to check on us.  We need to know we are not alone.  The absolutely worst assignments are those in which the entire grade level is gone to attend training.  Then you have blind subs leading blind subs.  And you know that some subs are better than others....just like there are good teachers and great teachers.

5. Please leave plans for dismissal. All schools are different and we want to do it correctly for student safety.

6. (This is the big one) If you are a teacher and you see a sub in the hallway...BE NICE!  If we sit down at lunch with you, don't ignore us. Let us join in the conversation. We are generally nice people or we wouldn't be doing this.  Yes, I am more than likely older than you are but I still have most of my brain cells. I might even have some experience that might be helpful to you. If you cannot acknowledge that I exist, you can be fairly certain that I am going to find out who you are and that I probably won't take a subbing job for you.  If you cannot speak to me, you certainly don't value me enough to leave your students in my old and gnarled hands.. And if you do not value a good sub who will follow your plans to the best of her ability, that is a loss to your and your students.

I guess you can tell by point #6 that I have encountered some less than friendly teachers. It's the truth but it has also made me reflect on the way that I treated subs when I taught. I'm not talking about subs that I used...I probably left them way too many instructions. I'm talking about the way I interacted with random subs at lunch, dismissal, during hallway duty or at recess. And I'm certain I was guilty of the behaviors that I dislike the most....I'm sure that I did not make the effort to include them in the conversation...after all, I'll probably never see them again! I didn't offer to make sure that they knew how to use all of the equipment and I know I rolled my eyes and said something like, "what did you expect....she's a sub!" I did develop friendships with the subs who seemed to always be in our building  but I wonder if some good subs chose not to return because I wasn't as nice as I could have been. 

Being a substitute teacher isn't easy but I'm glad I decided to give it a try. I'll probably continue to do this part time job for a few years and I know I will be selective about the jobs I take. I won't change my mind about pre k, kindergarten, first grade, or high school (unless it's in the library).I don't wish illness on my library friends but I do wish they weren't so disgustingly healthy.  (I am assuming here that they actually have me as a preferred sub and that I did not do a bad job for them or that they did not like me when I worked with them and will not let me darken the door to their domain!)

 And you can be very sure that I will never knowingly take a math job!

How to get locked in a bank vault in a few easy lessons

Today I made a quick (at least that was the original plan) to the bank. I needed to retrieve my social security card from our safe deposit box so that I could complete my substitute teacher application for Birdville ISD. 

 Everything started out fine---doesn't it always? The young lady at the desk got me signed in and took me back to the vault. She unlocked the vault and we located the Dallinger treasure box which happens to be located behind the door, in the lowest row of boxes. Using both of our keys, we opened the box (no fanfare or sparkles appeared). 

I knew exactly where the treasured item was located in the box and told my young guide to wait just a minute and I'd be done and gone. She informed me that it was against policy for her to be in vault with me and ushered me across the hall to the private room. Her last words were, "Just holler when you are finished". 

I found what I needed and closed up my treasure box. The door to the vault was just slightly open so I slipped inside to put the box away.  Remember that the box is located behind the door on the bottom row.  I moved the door slightly and the momentum pulled the door closed with a thud. No worries, right? You can always get out of the room, right?  WRONG! 

I tried the door...nothing was moving.  I knocked on the glass of the door...no response. This vault is in the furthest corner of the bank building and the only thing near it is the children's area.  No kids in the bank today.

Ahh...but I am resourceful! I have a smart phone. I was pleased to find that I actually had a signal inside the vault....not like anywhere in Illinois where AT&T apparently has no signal at any time from any place.  Located the website for the bank and mentally recorded the branch phone number.  I was reviewing my "I'm locked in your vault speech" when the phone connected to the "this number is no longer in service" recording.  WTH??? Apparently the branch has changed it's phone number but failed to update the website....either that or I failed to remember the correct number.  We will never know which it was because just at that moment, the bank security deposit princess came to check on me! Turns out, she was supposed to close the door to the vault behind her when she escorted me to the private room.  So we both made some errors in judgement!

But it had a happy ending...I was freed and not left to starve in the vault.  My friends were saved from spending their time baking cakes with files inside. DH was not required to file a missing persons report and defend himself against their " person of interest" suspicions. 

My only regret is that I failed to take a selfie and to check in on Facebook from INSIDE the vault ....add that to my bucket list! 

A kid magnet

What is it about some people that make them kid magnets?  It seems that every time DH and I take Mr. Perfect somewhere, we are instantly "adopted" by random, stray children, usually little girls.  Maybe it's because DH has been told he looks like Santa and maybe it's because I am that "doughy" grandmother  but whatever the reason, we look like the Pied Piper whenever we step out in public.

Recently we stopped in at the Y pool so that Mr. Perfect could practice his skills. (No, he isnt't swimming endless laps like Unca Tim but he does need work on his "kickers".)  We had no sooner gotten into the deep water when we were befriended by two little girls.  One, aka Watch Me, just wanted an audience for her latest tricks.  The other, Chatty Cathy, had a lot to share about her favorite colors, pets, and family members.  Mr. Perfect was totally oblivious to the new additions as he practiced climbing in and out of the pool. (Elbow, elbow, tummy, knee, knee)  We were able to convince Watch Me that it was more efficient to swim without holding her nose so something positive came from this encounter...for her.  Chatty kept up a running commentary on all things important to a 5 year old until she suddenly stopped and gave me an odd look.  Then in her most concerned voice she said, "You have braces". I replied that yes, I do have braces.  Continuing in the concerned voice she asked, "what happened?"  I replied that I wanted to have a pretty smile like hers and that braces would help me to do that.   She patted my knee and "Bless your heart" which in the South and in this case meant something along the lines of....just keep believing no matter what the truth actually is.  She hung around for awhile longer and then swam off in search of other adults to chat with...preferably those with a more realistic outlook on life.

While we were "entertaining" our little entourage, where were their parents?  Chatty's mother stopped by briefly to be sure she wasn't bothering us. (What do you say to that? Yes, your kid is annoying me so please haul her off and play with her yourself?). Watch Me's parents never appeared to look up from their kindles on their shaded lounge chairs.  And that is the usual parental reaction. I find that very interesting given the over-the-top helicopter parents that are quoted in social media sharing their concerns over the world we live in where our children cannot play outside unsupervised.  I guess as long as they are in sight, the kids are safe. 

Luckily for these parents, their kids are safe with us and we have accepted our roles as kid magnets.  Maybe that's why we became teachers in the first place.