Dear Public Educator

If you’re an elementary school teacher, God bless you. You have a tough job. You sit through tantrums, stories, good days and bad days. You are the eyes and ears for parents much like me throughout the day. Just so you know, if you need crayons, I got you. If you need sparkly gel pens, I got you. If you want a pretty journal to write in so you do not lose your mind, I am your huckleberry. I have friends in schools all over the country who teach and get to share their cool stories every day. I admire them for what they do.

I can not, however, get behind educators who are in the school system for anything other than treating all kids fairly and providing a solid education. Every child deserves a chance to the same resources as other kids. Every child deserves a teacher who is less focused on apps that communicate with the parents and more focused on putting the student first. Put down the phone. Stop favoring the quiet kids and stop singling out and trying to label the eccentric student. Teachers need to be trained on how to deal with all types of behaviors in the public-school system before being assigned to their school.

All this constant messaging and updating parents and essentially tattling takes away from a student’s right to education. I remember a time in elementary school where students who “called out” or were disruptive were able to be corrected by the teacher themselves. If the disruption continued, the student would get sent to the office. If the disruption persisted, a teacher would reach out to the parent and set up a parent/teacher conference via note home or phone call. A parent would be notified of a referral if issued.

I receive at least ten updates on my daughter’s progress throughout the school day. At least twenty kids are in her class. You do the math on how much time is being used up on updates vs learning. I know the fancy dojo app and similar apps are supposed to be used as a positive way to inform parents about their child’s day. I know the app is in no way a reflection of my child’s character and how she acts every day. This is just a friendly means of communication, but technology is the very start to the decline in our children’s educational experience.

Teachers are spending time communicating with parents throughout the day and denying children their right to education. They are taking away from another student’s right to learn by singling out a “disruptive student” in the class vs correcting the behavior on site. They are passing off the student to someone else and quick to label them or want to diagnose them because they don’t have time to connect and do their job. Put the phone down and teach! Put the iPad down and teach!

Educators cannot expect my kindergartner to sit perfectly still in class. They cannot expect her not to hug other students and hide her emotions. Teachers should not be able to shove an iPad in her face and call that teaching. They cannot get upset at that her behavior is declining due to the over stimuli. They cannot tell me that she needs a behavior counselor but then deny her access because she isn’t on government funded healthcare. Her school was quick to want to just label away because that is easier than teaching. Labeling is easier than leveling and understanding. Not everyone is cut out to teach and that is okay. Public schools need to stop trying to fill the role of teacher with a body and instead fill it with someone who cares about touching the lives of others.

I rode my bike today

With any new journey in life, there are fears. Fear is what keeps us grounded. Fear is what hold us back from any new potential in life. It is a safety blanket for young eyes and old eyes alike.

Fear for someone with a mental disability, such as myself, is crippling. It is always present during morning coffee and slowly encroaching and crawling under the covers with me at night. As a parent, I have a lot to fear and worry about. As my child grows, so grows my fear and anxiety. Along with the two comes depression. I have been suffering through bouts of depression since the birth of my daughter. As she ages, my anxiety seems to increase and the spells of depression just get longer. I have quit many jobs due to a seemingly minute mental disability. Music helps, therapy helps, surrounding myself with loved ones helps. The darkness only stays at bay though.

Today, I rode my bike for the first time in a long time. I sat upon the seat and gripped the handle bars. My feet pushed at the peddles and I smiled. I felt the breeze upon my face and the sweat roll down my cheeks as I peddled faster around my lake. I smelled the warm afternoon air and felt the sun shine down on my skin. I pushed past the thoughts of tiredness and thought about the good and new to come.

Today was the first day of a new beginning for me. For the first time in a long time I am able to not only feel happy but truly be happy. My worries have been categorized and assigned specific "worry time." Today I was able to live and enjoy living.

"Nothing is permanent, we are all on a bridge to somewhere. Even when you can't see the other side, you can feel the bridge beneath your feet. Your job is to take one step at a time. Nothing is permanent and you have options to happiness."-unknown 

Overstimulating

Being a mother and working full time is a job in itself. When you throw in 3/4 time school, things get a bit tricky to manage. If I'm being honest, I haven't been 100% present in my child's life nor have I even been fully present at work due to juggling all three things at one time. We are managing, but not without caveat.
Being a 4 year old has its challenging moments. I remember being so tiny and not able to reach the counter to wash my hands and wishing I was taller. I also remember not understanding when I was told no but receiving no other explanation as to why. I remember crying for no reason except for the one that seemed fit to me at the time. That being said, I can understand life for my child is overwhelming since she will be starting school and leaving the only sitter she has ever known to care for her. Her parents do not live together anymore. She is leaving safety and entering something scary because she has yet to experience that. Safety to her is home and her room. Safety is my bed when she has a bad dream or her little routine of having her ipad in the morning and before bed.

Unfortunately, being introduced and overstimulated has caused some attitude issues that her tiny body can not hold in anymore. Terrible twos have nothing on stubborn Lilianna who does not get her way. Just like her momma with that temper.
I have been an ostrich to the issues lately due to wanting to focus on school but now that my schedule is back to normal I am seeing these outbursts and trying to fully understand the reason for them. She's scared. She constantly talks about leaving her only friends and having to make new ones. Kids are so much like little adults it's scary. I see her resorting to her ipad to keep her company since mom can't be present. She has a whole world of information clouding her mind instead of being able to just focus on her toys in her room.
Noticing all of this I decided this week to take the ipad away and limit her to just our living room TV to watch shows on. We got a new (to us) trampoline and I enacted exercise/play time. For every hour of TV or video games she must participate in two hours of play time/exercise. The attitude just this week has gotten better. She is remembering her manners and is really enjoying time with mom. I'm not saying this has fixed her completely but at least we have started on it.

 Kids are definitely overstimulated these days with all of the technology. It's time to dial down the fast paced learning and go back to old school learning by playing and exploring. More parents need to realize the damage these ipads and game systems can cause when they don't set limits. I commend you moms out there going through this stage of life with your kids. Throw some suggestions my way as well please because we are trying as best as we can to figure this weird stage out.

Wish us luck!
-Frazzled momma S.

Second Sunday in May

Miss Anna Marie Jarvis-the founder of mother's day, is rolling in her grave yet again as Hallmark consumes more money from people to celebrate their mothers one time every year. I'm not trying to be a Negative Nancy every year but I just don't understand all of this commercialism.

I respect what my mom has done for me. I love her and I try to let her know as often as possible. I just don't understand, as a mother myself, why we are suppose to be celebrated once a year. I understand Anna's intent on wanting to make it known that mothers are the backbone to their children's lives. Those intentions are perfectly transparent, but as the years rolled on, Miss Jarvis herself started to boycott the holiday. Hallmark and all other card companies took it over trying to bank as much money as possible from it. Mother's day is the third largest retail holiday in the U.S. We've turned a cute and innocent act of doing something nice for mom into "Get her what she really wants this year," "Celebrate mom the right way with diamonds,"... What happened to hand made cards and those little coupon booklets for free foot massages or one hour of quiet time?

I sit here every year feeling these same confused and angry emotions. I don't expect my child to celebrate me once a year. Hell, I don't expect my child to celebrate me at all. She shouldn't be forced into celebrating my decision to birth her and raise her. How dare we sit here and expect our children to do something special for us on the second Sunday of May every year. Having a child is our own personal choice. My "Mother's Day" this year was spent by deep cleaning my house, washing my walls and flushing my AC condensate pipe, otherwise known as normal adult life. The dishes still need washed and laundry still needs folding and stopping it for one day isn't going to make me any less stressed.

The point here is, I see no reason we have to pick one commercial holiday out of the year to post on social media about our moms. Celebrate them as often as possible. Tell them you love them as much as possible and be thankful they didn't give you to the fire department when you were crying nonstop that first week of life. If you are buying in to the commercialism, you are doing it wrong. Anna's intent may have been muddled but my intent to refuse to celebrate will be re-posted and re-blogged for years to come.

XO - Confused Bocharski

JuJu and Gymnastics

This week on "I'm struggling as a mom" join me as I flip my house upside down trying to find my child's birth certificate from 2013.

The first rule of hoarding is to know where you place important documents. For me, these documents either go in my wine cabinet drawers (appropriately so I can cry over how little money I have to spend on wine), or in my black fire box which sits on the top shelf of my closet. I only ever need to enter this box once a year which is during tax time because I suck at remembering her social. I have pee results from my first job in 2010 stored in this box if that tells you anything about my retaining important document skills. PEE RECORDS for Christ sake!

Well here we are days after learning I need to submit a VPK voucher in order for her to get in to VPK and I still can't place where I put her certificate to be able to apply for the voucher. Sonagram photos, check. News article from crowd-sourcing her name, check. Blockbuster card of my ex-boyfriend from 2010, check. (I'm not kidding about that. I sincerely wish I was though.)

The kid and I are both stressing about going to school. I'm stressing because I can't find a record that she was even born and she is stressing because "Who will be my friend there? Do they have tv? Will I actually have to do homework like my cousins?"
I have my own school troubles with financial aid needing more proof that I'm not trying to catch a free ride. I'm feeling a sass attack sneaking up soon if they don't get their paperwork together and start reading the documents I've been sending them.

Much like our house, our schedules have been tipped upside down lately as well. We really depend on the schedule to get us through our day. Let's just say it's been crab city here. Fussy toddler, frustrated momma, please send your JuJu vibes for us. On top of it all we are adding gymnastics classes to the mix for Ms. Lily per her request. Let's see who she really gets her grace from!

Send good thoughts for us this week and if we survive I promise you're all invited to our graduations.
xo-Frazzled Bocharski

Down with the Mouse

Death be to Mr. Cheese. That's right, I'm talking about the mouse. THE Chuck E. Cheese.

I did something this past weekend which taught me a lesson. Never, no matter how bored you are or how much you want to entertain your child, never take your kid to Chuck E. Cheese on a rainy day. Let me back track to my promise I made to my child a few days prior.

Here we are (Lily and I) just sitting on the couch, I'm chatting on the phone with the beau and we devise a plan to see this mouse since I have my kid on the weekend. I tell the tiny child of the plan and naturally, she goes ape shit. She wants all the tickets in the world and wants to play all of the games she's seen on T.V. Whatever. No big deal right? Wrong.

Fast forward to a rainy Sunday where I am grouchy due to being up all night consoling a toddler who only wants her father. Alas, I made a promise to the toddler and convincing her of the park is out of the question because hello! She is four and a damn good debater. The clock quickly ticks off the hours and nap time has come and gone but she still recalls the day and still asks to see about the mouse. An elephant never forgets.

Quarter til three and we are in the car on the way to see Chuck and the tickets/prizes he has in store for us. A quick stop at Dunkin for some much needed caffeine and a donut for the insatiably hangry human being in my backseat.

We've arrived. Time to unbuckle the beast and get her inside mouse-land. Not the mouse-land with Donald and Daisy but the kind where Chuck needs a smoke break and natty ice from a hard days work of standing from afar and watching kids turn in to savage beasts over needing a picture with this rat who likes cheese. As soon as we step inside my brain alerts me of an oncoming headache from sensory overload. Mini me starts screaming with excitement and of course we have to get invisibly stamped before we can proceed. We're greeted by some teenager who looks like he'd rather be dead than working at this knock off pizza planet (shouts out to my toy story lovers).

Okay, Mission one; find the machine that supplies us the gold coins. Scanning, scanning, walking around and scanning, tripping over kids and scanning, getting lost amongst the sea of tiny beasts and still scanning and back tracking now and looking hopeless but still scanning and "oh shit it's self service under this banner with a big arrow."

Mission two: collect all the tickets with a hyperactive 4 year old who insists on joining a random child's birthday party just so she can take a picture with the mouse. Side task; explain to the 4 year old why the mouse won't come say hi to her and try to convince her that tickets are cooler than hugging a guy in a mouse costume. Spoiler alert; she was never convinced.

Mission three: Find an open ticket muncher after what seem like eternity of pushing through the sea of kids and clearly unenthusiastic adults who shared our same uncanny expressions. We find the muncher, get the receipt and head to the counter. More waiting and the smell of old pizza with the combined noise of machines and lame music has brought about the headhache from earlier. Tiny beast is tired of being held by mom and insisting that 177 tickets will buy her some super cool toy on the top shelf. She is not interested in picking a toy from the bottom shelf and instead leaves with play-doh suggested by another teen who hates kids and is using the job as a birth control method.

Mission four; Abandon ship. This should have been smooth sailing except for the fact that the invisible stamp had to be checked by the first teen who was also pulling head Dippin Dot dispenser duties. This delays the process in leaving because Timmy can't decide on the color of dots he wants in his cup.

Final thoughts? I will never return and I suggest you follow my warning. The pizza bar/dippin dot cart is right in the entrance/exit. In theory, this should be a great way to start your time in hell. Get full on cheese and then run off the fat by chasing your kid around aimlessly from machine to machine as they have no regard as to how money works. Then they sucker you in to overly priced frozen ice cream balls. The mouse never comes out to the play floor which is really heartbreaking considering over a quarter of the machines there were out of service. Parents do a terrible job of wrangling their mini hellions but that is no surprise considering they trust the anti theft stamp placed on the party's hands at the entrance.

Lesson; parents still suck at controlling their kids in public and a mouse has given me nightmares.

Tea Time

Welcome to Shelby-land. I am a mid-twenties female (last time I checked) who has the mind set of a forty year old. My talents include, but are not limited to, belching at inappropriate moments and being a hypochondriac. I am well in to a month now of living the divorced life and I have to say, living on beer and cheese fries is working out for me. I am keen on this whole living in my pajamas and not wanting to mingle with people thing. If it takes me longer than 10 minutes to do my hair or make-up, I am most likely going somewhere I don't want to be in the first place. Please read; the above mentioned things have absolutely nothing to do with (#momlife). It took me 26 years on this Earth and a failed marriage to realize I need to stop trying to impress people. I do not have the patience or determination to pretend to be someone I am not.

If you followed my last blog with my now ex-husband, then you know I went through postpartum depression and a series of financially risky days. I also did the whole "new mom, super in to my kid" phase. One thing I learned for sure is I am not a regular mom by any stretch of the definition. I am most definitely a cool mom and yes, that was a Mean Girls reference. At any rate, the same rules are going to apply to this blog just as they did the last. This may be a new series to my life but I promise you I'm still going to throw out something that will piss off one of my readers. Divorce has turned me in to a more opinionated person, that is for sure! Hopefully you stick it out to read some opinion pieces and relish in the divorced life with me. Somewhere along the way there will be a few collaborations with the best friend a girl could ask for, the one and only Mr. Hartmann-Hanson himself.

In the meantime, I am hardcore living inside of the "this is fine" meme with fire surrounding me. My mom said it best "Damn millennial's have no patience." A severely reduced income with the overwhelming urge to pay off all of my debt as well as attend school and be a single parent? Step in to financially independent land with me will you? I really need to go ahead and find out where the patience is stored inside of me because I am running on fumes.

Not everything is going to move when I want it to. I am well aware of the old "return is worth the wait" saying and I am crossing my fingers that this is one of those moments. I figured nearly 10 years out of school was long enough to make my return and finally decide on a degree. Who knows if I will use it but at least I am back to finding my niche.

Welcome to my big cliche of a year of change and new blogging. Follow me?
-xo newly Bocharski again!