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The Two Little Piggies

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I have a love-hate relationship with teaching. The hours are horrible. The pay is a pittance. The work never stops – nights, weekends, vacations. There are times where it is as if no one wants to hear a word I am saying, and all I am doing is putting out one behavior fire after another. Not to mention all the times I have had to tell  the Three Monkeys that I can’t do something with them or for them because I have had something to do for the class.

It is EXHAUSTING.

And then there are times when it all is so incredibly breathtakingly amazing.

This is the story of the two little piggies – guinea piggies that is – and how an act of kindness lifted my heart in so many ways.

Way back in August, my students and I decided we wanted to get guinea pigs for our classroom. We had everything we needed. Cage? Check. Food? Check. Hay? Check. Guinea pigs? Ummm…

It’s not that I didn’t want them. I did! But, guinea pigs cost money. And with the pay cut I took in order to work at this little piece of academic heaven, I never had the spare change to go get them.

That damned empty cage sitting in my classroom mocked me every single day.

And then this week something serendipitous happened. I came across a listing for two male guinea pigs (cage included) FREE to a good home. Needless to say, I jumped on it. FINALLY we were going to get our piggies! I went to school the next day and excitedly told my class the news. The squeals of delight filled the room. We couldn’t wait!

That evening I took Monkey #1 (now 15 1/2, if you can believe it) and The Middle Monkey (almost 14!) to go pick up our new furry friends, Sergeant and Lieutenant – AKA Sarge and Louie. Together, the boys and I loaded the cage into the car and headed home. Upon arriving, we unloaded the cage to the kitchen table where they would wait until the next day when I would move them to their new home – my classroom.

There was just one little hitch in the plan. Something unexpected happened. In the span of about 10 minutes, Monkey #1 fell head=over-heels-hopelessly-in-love with Sarge and Louie. The very guinea pigs that were destined to go to my class the very next day.

All Wednesday evening, Monkey 1, my sweet little Aspie Monkey, was crouched on a kitchen chair, arms wrapped around his knees, gazing through the open cage door at Sarge and Louie.  He was so calm. So peaceful. Nothing, not meds wearing off, not his brother being very 13, was ruffling him. Occasionally he would tentatively extend one finger and stroke one of the piggies.

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“But, I love them,”

And then came the words that broke my heart. “I wish I could keep them,” he quietly whispered.

“But, baby, I’ve already told my class about them, and they are very excited about the piggies coming. You know they are meant to go to school.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But, I love them. I know I just met them. I can’t explain it. I love them.”

Oy.

I tried to make light, but I could tell, this was no ordinary love. This was a deep piggy love, and I – the worst mother in the whole wide world – was ripping them away from him. Not that he told me that. But he might as well have, because that is exactly how I felt.

The next morning, I brought the piggies to school. More squeals of delight. I told my school kiddos the story of Monkey 1 and his love of the piggies and how he had wanted to keep them. I don’t know why I told them. Except that maybe I have a case of verbal diarrhea and just talk even when I shouldn’t. But I did.

Today I got a message from one of my parents. Her daughter had told her about Monkey 1 falling in love with the piggies. Then the sweet girl asks her mother if there was a way that we could get other pets for the class and return the piggies to my son. Because obviously God wanted my sweet son and the sweet piggies to be together. The piggies belonged to him. Not the class.

I didn’t know how to respond. I was literally speechless. All that came were tears.

In the hours that followed, that mother asked and searched, and has now located another pair of guinea pigs for my class to have. All so my sweet Aspie Monkey can keep Sarge and Louie.

His response when I told him was to bury his head in my shoulder and repeatedly say, “I get to keep my boys. I get to keep my piggies.”

Yes you do, my sweet boy. Yes you do.

So while it means there will be more living things in my house, every single time I see those little furballs, every time I see that little smile on Monkey #1’s face, I will think of the sweet girl who knew it was meant to be – even when I didn’t.

And I’ll remember the time my student and her family taught me a lesson in kindness and compassion I’ll never forget.

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I SUPPOSE

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The Usual Worries

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Worries worries everywhere

Poetry On A Roll

Worries will keep you up at night
and leave you with a migraine in the morning.
Nothing solved.
Just a bigger mess than before.

Worries will drag you down
countless mountains of slippery slopes,
keep you on your tip toes;
expect the usual mess,
carelessly tossing you around like a rag doll,
have you flipping out
with your trail of constant moods swings,
there’s not a moment of peace with this thing.

All it does is take, take, take
until you are in your grave.

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Mother’s Day Breakfast

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It’s Mother’s Day, and the Monkeys have been fighting in the kitchen. The Middle Monkey is mad at The Girl Monkey because she did not wake them up before she came into give me Mother’s Day kisses. (In her defense, she tried. Both boys ran her out.) There is much banging and shouting. At one point, Monkey #1(who ironically is remaining calm) tells them both to go to their rooms because he will not have them ruining the day.
More banging. More screaming.
Then suddenly, there they are. Standing at my door. One with the plate. Another with a glass of Diet Coke.
“Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy! We love you!”
They hand me my breakfast and scurry downstairs to retrieve their own plates and return to my room where we commence to have a breakfast bed picnic.
It wasn’t fancy.
They didn’t make it from scratch.
But, I know more than anything else, it was made with love.
It was the best breakfast I have ever had.

Anger

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Filled with anger

Consumed with frustration

I look to make sense of the situation

You have created.

Your refusal to understand me

Your refusal to see me

For the person I am inside

You put the blame on me

You say it is what I have done

At no time acknowledging your role in this game

You see me for what you believe me to be

I will never win in your eyes

I will always be a pariah

I am tired of trying to please you

To make you like me

To make you see me for the wonder that is me

Never seeing the person that I am.

The bond is now broken

No adhesive will make it whole.

Filled with anger

Consumed with frustration

I will never let you beat me

No matter how hard you try.

Just Me and My Boys

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My sweet little boy monkeys.

It seems that I am always doing special things with the Girl Child.  Their dad will take the boys off to go do something (like go to a retro monster movie), and Monkey #3 and I will have “Girls’ Day.”  We’ll shop, have lunch, get our nails done.  You know – girly things

It is rare when it is just me and the Boy Monkeys.  Today, however, it was just the three of us.  And it was really pretty great.

I have the Monkeys every Saturday during the day, whether it is my parenting time or not, while their father is at work.  Usually, we are just at home doing weekend things.  But, today the boys and I stepped out.

My mother decided to take The Girl Child to go see a local production of Swan Lake.  Monkey #1 had a short Boy Scout thing to do.  The Middle Monkey and I went to pick him up.  We were all hungry, so off to IHOP (Monkey #1’s request – he loves the red velvet pancakes).  It was a delightful little breakfast.  No arguing.  No meltdowns.  No irritations.  Fabulous.

Monkey #1 had seen that there was a neighborhood yard sale going on, and wanted to go picking.  I didn’t feel like wandering from house to house.  So, we made a compromise.  We went to this place that is like one giant yard sale crammed in a building.  There is stuff EVERYWHERE.  And you never know what you might find.  We even saw an electric butter churn!  The boys and I had so much fun scrounging around seeing what we could see.  We would make fun of silly things, wonder about unusual things, comment on the cost of overpriced things, laugh at how someone would put a price on an empty box, and marvel at a 5 foot tall hand-made model of a Dutch windmill.

I was able to get some books for a book drive we are having at school and some vintage necklaces to use the beads to make something new.The Middle Monkey picked out a pencil sharpener shaped like a die (the singular for dice) and a strategy game I loved playing when I was a kid.Monkey #1 found a National Geographic from July 1976 (yes, the Bicentennial Edition).  I had to talk him out of the bamboo cane he wanted to buy.  I could just see him deciding to cane one of the other two monkeys in a fit of frustration.  All for less than what we paid for breakfast at IHOP.

Then my mother called and said she was heading home with the Girl Child.  The boys and I were tempted to tell her just to keep the girl.  We were off having fun!  But, we headed out anyway, thus ending our little excursion.

What a great day.