Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Have yourself a merry little christmas

I was given a chance to butt into a production here in Sierra Vista for a private company Christmas party. It was a musical show with a small cast, in a format I’ve never done publicly before this. The theme was a glee club at a Catholic school. There were four of us with individual “characters” we were to improvise during the performance. The character we came up with were our own creations. I was super excited to get the chance to tap into my creativity and see what happened.

With a month and a half of rough rehearsals and choreography, we had ourselves a show. We did a dry run of the show the night before and left that practice feeling pretty confident in the product we had.

We each had solo performances, a couple group numbers, and some improved banter in between songs. The show ended up being about 50 minutes long, which is way too long to post on the internet. So, what I did is pull out the songs I was a part of. This one is my solo performance with my character improv. It ended up getting a lot more laughs then I thought I would. There’s nothing cooler than having your expectations surpassed.

I adore performing and getting to do this was a real treasure. I’m stoked I have video of it too. It’s not often I’m able to watch my performances back and this makes me very happy. So, I hope you enjoy the bit!

Here's the link to my YouTube channel. I've posted two video clips from the show.

http://www.youtube.com/user/TheEmmaBemma

Emma In Wonderland

This past weekend was full. I learned a couple things about me that I’ve been sort of ignoring a little bit. Saturday was Isabelle’s final soccer game and then end-of-season party. I have learned that I am the farthest thing from a “soccer mom.” Though I am the mother of a soccer player, apparently it isn’t a mold that just slips around you and shapes the mom into a new kind of person. Perhaps there’s been a battle raging in angst to buck the stereotype to blame, nevertheless, I’m not at all like the other moms that were in attendance at the party.

Truth be told, I’m 100% alright with it. I don’t have anything strongly against soccer moms, but there’s just something about them that makes me a little irritable. Call me nuts, but I have plenty of things to talk about besides my kids and the things they have going on. Think me silly to have interests that don’t involve my kids at all. I don’t believe I’m a bad mother for having a life outside of my kids and husband. In fact, I believe I’m being a better mom by keeping some identity.

Another thing I learned this past weekend is the level of not-ok I am. I watched a movie with a girlfriend on Friday night and felt like bawling more than twice while watching it. I was expecting to watch a romantic comedy, which to some extent it was, but it had a very serious element to the story. Too many of those elements were similar to what my Mom experienced. It was rough.

For a few weeks now, I’ve been struggling to keep my emotions under control. I wish sometimes I didn’t feel like I have to, but I do. The holidays aren’t what they used to be. Especially as of late. I have articulated my feelings of woe over not having my Mom here this Christmas, but I really haven’t cried about it. I want to, but for several reasons it doesn’t fit in my schedule.

I had a conversation with my best friend a couple years ago, shortly after I lost Connor, about crying. She told me she either read somewhere or heard on a talk show the importance of safety. The safety in crying. To this day I find that significant. Too often I think we can take for granted the support systems we have around us. There is serenity in that girlfriend, spouse, sister, brother, parent, etc., when you can fall apart and not feel like you can’t gather it up again.

I don’t have a clue how bad things would be if I didn’t have the ear and shoulder of my best friend. She has talked me back from ledges and provided the safe places to land when I have decided to fall. The only thing that sucks about that now is the distance. We talk on the phone almost every single day and there isn’t much we don’t know about each other’s days. She knows how much nicer it would be if we were close enough to hang out with each other and really spill the beans. There’s just a difference between a phone conversation and being able to look someone in the eyeballs when you’re pouring your heart out. It’s safe.

I’ve been here before. I’ve felt like the Lone Ranger before. I’ve fought my fights single handedly. No matter how many times I’ve had to scale my mountains alone, I still long for the ability to just let go.

The year of 2010 is coming to a close and the weight of this year is heavy. This has been a year filled with equal pain and joy. Wrapping my noggin around that is weird. I have the baby boy I’ve been hoping for, but no mother to enjoy the splendor he brings with me. It’s so bittersweet.

I’m about to celebrate my 13th year of marriage to Joshua. Every anniversary feels like a battle won. This year has been one of our easiest yet. I’m looking forward to them getting easier and easier.

Isabelle is embarking on the latter half of her last year before becoming a teenager. Saturday night we went to a company Christmas party and we dressed nicely. I helped her pick out an outfit. When she walked out of the room to grab her shoes, I didn’t see the little girl anymore. From the back, if I didn’t know any better, she looked like a young adult. A little tear filled my eye as I realized, yet again, she’s growing up.

I’ve made a decision for the year 2011. I don’t make new year’s resolutions. This is not one of those, it’s more a new habit. I’ve been keeping a good journal for Alex. I have regretted several times not doing the same thing for Isabelle. The differences between her childhood and Alex’s are radically different. Anyway, I’m going to start one now. I figure I have 5 years left of coaching this kid to become a good adult. She’s getting mature enough to understand things on an adult level. I think now’s a good time to start telling her where she came from in a journal just for her. I’ll give it to her when she moves out. The intention is to tell her about her through my eyes. I can’t tell you how cool it would have been to have gotten something like that from my folks.

Several years ago, I found a letter my Mom had written to me when I was just a baby. I cherish that letter and the words she wrote. She expressed the love in her heart to hold me in her arms. She told me how much she hoped for me and how she was going to do all she could to help me be a strong woman. I am so grateful I have the one letter, but it would have been neat to continue reading her perspective as I started wearing her make-up, stealing her shoes, fighting with my brothers, and the other torment I put her through.

I am going to give that to Isabelle. I hope she’s able to appreciate it.

The flurry of snow in my head is nothing short of a white out. Landmarks come and go to let me know where I am. Things are very manic and truthfully sometimes bi-polar. I’m dealing. I’m doing my best. The best thing I can do is what I’m doing. But, there’s a lingering fear of a pending threshold. I have reached it once before, I don’t want to get there again. The key is to keep some kind of control. If I lose control, I won’t have the luxury of spinning.

Finding Me

Every year hunting season comes around and I am very aware of what that entails. Every spare moment taken on my husband’s part, is spent hiking around Cochise and Santa Cruz Counties looking for the game. Truthfully, I love that his hobby is one that gets him out there and gives him more than just the hunt. He gets exercise, exposure to the outdoors, and peace and quiet away from the daily routine. I think it’s very healthy to have a hobby that promotes good physical and mental health. It keeps the levels of sanity at a good level.

However, today I am here resenting his hobby. I have no one to blame but myself for the lack of activity that gets me self satisfaction like that. My hobbies are accomplished from the comfort of my chair in the living room, my bed, kitchen table, or pretty much anywhere my fanny can plant. I write. I journal a lot. I jot down thoughts and ideas constantly. I day dream a lot too. While they are great and I find a lot of joy engaging in my own thoughts, I don’t do it without interruption or distraction.

I’m left thinking I’m getting slightly short changed because of the ease of locale. Being a stay at home mom is a gift and I love being one. It comes with it’s cons though. My energy level is very low when the idea of leaving comes up. I’m annoyingly content staying in my comfy clothes, ponytail, and no make-up. The thought of getting “dressed” to go anywhere is exhausting. I’m getting in my own way there. When I think about why I am so lethargic I can’t help but wonder if my body is depressed despite my mind’s lack of acknowledgement.

My other giant hobby is singing. I have played in a few bands, and lately I’m working on a new project. The downfall to building a band with other parents and full time employees is finding the time collectively to get together. It can be a challenge to pull everyone’s schedules together. I haven’t gotten together with the band in a few weeks. I have a feeling I’ll get a call soon to get together, but the time in between is daunting.

I’m super excited to be taking part in a small ensemble cast for a Christmas production for a local company holiday party. It’s a short show with a solo performance based on a character of my own choosing. I am excited to be challenged with creativity. The premise is great and the time I’ll get to spend collaborating with the rest of the cast to create the show is going to be a lot of fun!

So there are things that I do, but none of them are on a regular basis and are also dependent on others being involved. Because others involvement is sort of beside the point. I think what I’m going to do is take myself to the library and just be and let whatever my mind feels like doing happen. I need to permit myself the time to just totally relax. I’ll take my iPod and listen to some music to make extra sure I’m uninterrupted. Turn off my phone to eliminate any distraction. If I go and do that at least once a week, I think I’ll find the Emma I was once upon a time very in tune with. The longer I go without giving myself some time away from the house and the mommy duties the more lost the person I am will get.

I’m frustrated that I have allowed myself to get away from me. I know how important it is to maintain an identity away from my kids and husband. Don’t get me wrong, they are my life. But I think its very mentally unhealthy to make them all that makes me, me. Separation is good for all of us. Having independent personalities is vital to our unity. It’s the difference between healthy and unhealthy dependency. One day the kids will be gone. It’s a good length of time away, but I don’t want that day to get here and I not know what to do with my time. So, having me intact outside of them is good preparation for the future.

I don’t want my kids to learn that life is your kids and husband. You have to have your talents and hobbies and things that make you happy in addition to those kids. I think the library is a great place for me to start re-establishing my independence.

Sacrifice and Compromise

For every action there is an equal opposite reaction. Scientifically you can show example upon example of that fact. In relationships it is a little less obvious. At least I think so.

Marriage these days is treated with such frivolity. So many couples simply give up when it gets hard, or annoying, or not easy any more. Isn’t that the point? Aren’t we supposed to grow as individuals in marriage? Being able to evolve as a person and still keep a marriage strong is a testament of personal caliber.

I’ve been married for nearly 13 years. You will be hard pressed to find a couple married 13 years at my age (30). The rarity of my marriage is almost the source of our vendetta to keep going. Making it this long together has been nothing short of taxing. The road to longevity isn’t smooth and unwinding. Quite the opposite. But being able to stay on that path together through it all is an achievement worthy of recognition.

We all have friends who complain about their spouses. Whether it’s a man whining about the constant nagging of his wife or a woman bitching about not being paid enough attention by her husband, we hear about it. As good friends we do our best to support the person doing the said complaining and try to give advice to keep them together.

Because I have been married since I was 17 years old, I have had friends tell me I don’t know what it’s like to be in the dating phase of a relationship. I’ll tell you right now that couldn’t be more false.

I met my husband when I was 16 years old. He graduated from high school and left for boot camp. The next time we saw each other, I was 3 months pregnant and we were engaged. The time I saw him after that was at our wedding. He left for Korea for a year unaccompanied tour 6 weeks after that.

While most couples have a honeymoon phase the first year of their marriage, we were thousands of miles apart doing completely different things in our day-to-day. I was a new mother, essentially single. He was trying to be a husband in a foreign country. Needless to say, when we were reunited we were strangers.

The second year of our marriage was actually our first year of dating. We didn’t know each other. We didn’t really know each other when we got married. All we knew was the fantasy of teenage romance. Completely unrealistic and ridiculously off base. We had a lot of catching up to do. Over the course of the next three years we worked really hard to figure out if being married to each other was the best. It was a constant ebb and flow of uncertainty.

Remembering how our travel to today has been, testifies to the people we are. It couldn’t have worked without sacrifice and compromise. Constant sacrifice and compromise. Our relationship has evolved into a unity dependent of each other. I can’t imagine how my life would be without him. I’m assuming things are the same for him. At least I hope he can’t imagine his life without me.

The more time we get under our marriage belt, the more we understand what to do and what not to do in order to maintain the dynamic of our relationship. I think that is extremely vital. With so many years spent figuring each other out, we better have things under control at this point.

I believe the key to our longevity is the compromise and sacrifice we do. Because I know that’s what has worked for us, I can’t help but think the same philosophy can be applied to all marriages. All marriages start with at least a level of respect, understanding, and mutual affection to make each person want to spend the rest of their lives together. Cultivating those basic elements strengthens the couple. So many lose focus of what got them married in the first place. Find it, fix it, make it better. Stay married.

Women should give a little more. Men should do the same. When both give a little, they get a little. Compromise. Women should let a little more go. Worry about the things worth getting worried about. Men secure your woman. She’ll worry less. Sacrifice the selfishness a little bit and the rewards can be substantial. Look at the bigger picture. Pull yourself outside of the moment and see the cause and effect of the choices you make. The little bickering fits aren’t the big picture. See the big one. That little bicker is usually the indicator of the bigger problem. Fix the bigger problem and sometimes those bigger problems have a very simple corrective action.

I am grateful for the hard I’ve had to remind me of the easy I have now. My life isn’t without it’s complexities, but it sure makes them easier to manage when I recognize the big picture. It’s always more than just me, especially since I’m not one person anymore. All I do, say, think, feel directly affects my partner. Knowing that has helped me keep the proper perspective...and kept me from divorce.

November 18, 2010

EDUCATION AND EMMA

Blunt honesty is how I roll. Very little that crosses my mind goes unsaid. I am not a college educated person. I am however, learned. The 30 years I have been around haven’t been wasted time. So many things have happened in my life and for me to walk away from any one of them without learning something either about myself or about life, then I would consider my time wasted.

That being said, I have some strong opinions regarding the education system. School is the time in our lives where we are truly molded into the people we are going to be. It is the responsibility of three people to make sure the time is used wisely and with intent. The student, the teacher, and the parents. When a child lacks academically one of those three participants is to blame. Period.

I’ll explain:

The student has the responsibility of doing their homework, studying for tests, actively participating in class activity, etc. When the child begins to shirk their role in the process, corrective action has to be made. I think it’s great when teachers meet with parents and discuss the child with the intent to improve their situation. If teachers and parents don’t pay attention that’s when kids fall between the cracks.

Parents have a responsibility to be 100% involved in what their child is doing in school. It’s more than just saying, “Do your homework.” Check your kid’s homework. Find out what they’re doing in class. Help them do their homework. So often kids will just blow through their homework and get a passing grade and not learn a thing. When kids aren’t excelling at school, parents should reflect.

Teachers have a hard row to hoe. They have this immense responsibility to lay the groundwork for the kids and the parents. It’s their job to set kids up for success. They are responsible for providing the tools a kid needs to achieve in life. The big line of responsibility is questionable as to their responsibility when a child fails.

My daughter came home last week with a four page packet for her language arts class. She is a nearly straight A student. She has two B’s and one of them is in Language Arts. Knowing that about her grade, I took interest in her homework assignments. I looked over this packet to see what the instructions were. She did the work and then I reviewed her answers.

The subject was Topic Sentences. She had a few pages of paragraphs with differing identification tasks of both topic sentences and supporting sentences. When I looked at her answers I was concerned at the amount of wrong answers. As I looked closer at the paragraphs, instructions, and her answers I got confused.

The paragraphs were poorly written. The instructions weren’t specific in telling her what she needed to do. I talked to her about her comprehension of the assignment. We did the homework together and I was confident she’d get a good grade on the work.

When she came home the next day, I was shocked to find out what happened in the class in review of the homework. I found one of the paragraphs in the homework confusing and I told my daughter to ask the teacher to help her with it. When she asked the teacher to explain why she got it wrong, the teacher told her to stop asking questions. She went on to tell my daughter the answer she gave was wrong and that was that. The fury I had was insane at that point. It’s one thing to get an incorrect answer. It’s another when the teacher ignores and shuts down a student when they don’t understand why they got it wrong.

We chose to put our daughter in a charter school because of the population of the student body. The entire 7th grade is only about 30 kids. Those 30 kids are split between two different teachers. In subject based classes the classroom size is usually around 15-18 students. That encouraged us as parents. So often class size contributes to poor achievement. The standard in a classroom is frequently based on the lowest performing student. Kids that understand the curriculum are forced to wait until those that don’t get it, catch up. Therefore the standard gets lowered.

I don’t know where the chain of responsibility got so broken. I am more inclined to blame the parents and teachers long before I blame a child. Kids are products of their environments. Parents and teachers are not teaming up enough to make sure the environments are the most conducive for kids to reach their potential. There is a huge debate as to the ability of those two parties to achieve that goal.

If parents stayed parents we could turn the standard around quickly. Jobs are important, but your kids are more important than the “stuff” we work to have. Most cases, education is free. Capitalize on such a priceless gift. We as parents can make the education worth while for everyone. When our kids don’t succeed, it’s our fault. Not just the teachers. As parents, we are responsible for the successes and failures of our children. Work with your teachers and find out how you can help them do their job. So easy.