Lessons in Bees

Today Jellybean told me that she is a little worried about school because "Mary" is in her class. Last year "Mary" was a developing Queen Bee and Jellybean was genuinely confused by her fickleness. and her meanness.

It was incredibly apropos because I just finished confronting a Queen Bee in my own life so I was able to talk with her from a very fresh perspective. But, I'm afraid I burdened her with a curse more than alleviated her concerns. It would appear that she, like me, was born to battle these creatures. And on the one hand I felt a little proud but on the other my heart broke for all of the future heartbreak she is facing. So, I tried to arm her as best I could. Here is what I told her, from one Queen Bee Slayer to another.

I wish I could tell you that girls grew out of this phase. That somewhere hearts were softened and insecurities were wiped away and these Mean Girls turned into compassionate, open women. But that would be a lie. You will meet Mean Girls your entire life. The first lesson that you have to learn is how to recognize them. It is easier to simply avoid their reach altogether than to have to slip out from their grasp once you realize what you are tangling with.

A sure sign that you are dealing with a Mean Girl is if she tries to cozy up to you and get information from you about other people, your friends. She may sound supportive or sympathetic. She generally shows up an opportune time, like when you have just had an argument with one of your friends. Trust me. This girl has no interest in comforting you. She only wants to use you. Your best response..."You should ask her that yourself."

The second and hardest lesson you need to learn is that when you go up against a Queen Bee, you are going alone. Even if you are going to defend your friend against mean things that the Queen Bee has done. You will look at the Queen Bee and all her "friends" around her and when you turn to find comfort in seeing your friends behind you...you will hear the wind in the trees and gravel under your feet. But you will not hear the sound of someone backing you up. I've done this countless times. I wish to God that I didn't feel like I had to fight these battles. But, I truly can't help it. And the worst feeling is knowing that you are standing there completely alone. Even at my age when I know that it is the case, I still hope...and my heart still drops. But, if you choose to stick your neck out and stand up to her, (and you don't have to!) know beforehand that you will be standing alone. No matter how many people told you that this person needed to be brought down. No matter how hurt and upset the person you are defending is, in the end it is your neck. alone. And nine times out of ten, you're going to get your ass handed to you in a pretty package with a bow on top. And after all of that, they will come out of the woodwork to tell you how great it was that you stood up to the Queen Bee.

And the last lesson...nine times out of ten? It won't have changed anything. The Queen Bee will still reign. But you? You have stood up to injustice. You will hurt. But, I have to believe that somewhere in the universe this little flap of butterfly wing has brought about an act of great love.

Peek-In-Monday

The Meatball helping us clean-up the yard.

This man...

I just came across this picture from when Ladybug was born and it took my breath away.

2nd Semester

I have lovely news for all of you. I am very proud of myself and thankful to everyone who has supported me and cheered me on.

Last semester I got a 3.5 grade point average! YAY ME!

I am now in my second semester at St. Mary of the Woods taking 8 hours.

• Introduction to Theology (required) 3hrs
• Mass Media (major) 3hrs
• Intro to Computer Software (required) 2hrs...this one is proving to be a little tricky because the big mamma-jamma book I bought for the class is based on Office 2007. I have a Mac, so Mac's version is 2008 and a very different layout. I'm figuring it out, but the book was kind of a waste!

I'm about 3 weeks into the semester that ends in March and I'm off to a much better start than last semester. Then I will have only 46 hours left to get my Bachelor's degree! JEESH! that's like 2 1/2 years. ugh.

slow and steady, Cakes. slow and steady.

Peek-In-Monday

shoot! I'm a day late! I just bought a cheap, crappy rug (though it looks good from a distance) for our living room. The last one was toast and we have been without one (or a coffee table) for several years, maybe. Anyway, I found this one at Sam's and knew that I didn't have to worry about becoming too attached to it. That's my criteria at this point in time. I won't bring any thing into the house that I will become too upset about losing when it's inevitable demise comes. We don't have "special rooms" in our house. We live in our living room and every other room in this house. Now, I need to head down to the secondhand store to pick up a "new" coffee table.

I have plenty of time for a fancy house with expensive furnishings. Now, is not that time. And when it comes, I expect to be very lonely. On second thought, I will never have time for a fancy house with expensive furnishings. I never want to bring anything into my house that I will become too upset when my grandchildren...

After I brought the rug into the house, Ladybug announced that she needed to "Make it ours." Here is how she did that.

Happy Halloween 2009!

I was actually a lot more put together this Halloween compared to Halloweens past. We even carved Jack-o-lanterns from pumpkins bigger than Chowder's head! The only last minute glitch was that Friday night Ladybug sprung on me her deepest desire to be a spider for Halloween. Not Snow White. Not the simple Snow White dress she had received for her birthday a month earlier. Not that. No. A spider. Have you perhaps gathered yet, that though I am a fierce baker, I am definitely not a crafter. Luckily, she was quite pleased with what I managed to Frankenstein together, namely Chowder's dress socks stuffed with plastic grocery bags and a too big black turtle neck paired with too big pants. Chowder on the other hand...

It's different...

I was sitting in Parent-Teacher conferences chatting cheerily about the idiosyncrasies of my sweet, funny children. As I spoke with the teachers, my heart was so warmed by the genuine love that they had for each of my kids. Each child has two teachers (that adds up at Christmastime let me tell you!) and they play off of each other so well.

My worries about Porkchop's need to lick various surfaces? Hasn't show up.

My concerns about Jellybean's desire to please in peer relationships and the ease at which she can be emotionally manipulated? The teacher already spotted it and was on top of things. (Her incessant need to say every single farkin word that comes into that brain of hers? still working on.)

Meatball's rigidity in everything? being redirected productively.

NOTHING was a big deal. Weaknesses were met with nonchalance and strengths developed. Things were going great at the conferences. And then sheets of paper were pushed my way. The "report card," (They don't give grades in Montessori) the reading scores, the standardized test scores. They were all saying one thing. They're bright. Very, very, bright. The test that they take three times a year that is supposed to measure the child's progress as she goes through the year? Pretty much aced the first month of school.

This news filled me with the worst kind of dread. This intelligence is a curse in my family. This is what conference's with Skaterboy's teachers were like...once. Now, he is a high school drop out trying to get his act together in community college. I had these scores, too. I flunked out of college. My brother is extremely bright, barely made it through school and took 6 years to graduate from college (the only one of all of us.)

When I was pregnant with Porkchop, I used to jokingly rub my belly and say, "Mediocre intelligence, high motivation. Mediocre intelligence, high motivation." It was only half a joke. In my family, high intelligence=under achievement. It meant being saddled with every report card saying, "Not living up to potential."

But, these teachers already read the sheets, the child, and in that split second the anxiety on my face. This is Montessori. It's different. Meatball may technically be in first grade but because they have multi-age classrooms, he is working with the older kids. It's not a big deal. They aren't singled out and strapped with that stupid moniker, "Gifted." (What the hell does that mean anyway?!) They don't have to suffer through tedious lessons about things they already know and then go to hours of enrichment activities to give them a challenge. They just work at their own pace. And so does everyone else. No stigma. The kids themselves don't even know that they aren't working at "grade level" because for them, there is no grade level.

This is why the thought of moving is terrifying. This school is the perfect place for my children to grow and learn. It will be very difficult, if not impossible, to duplicate.