First Grade Finals and Selective Memory

This past week has been busy!  Whew!  Thursday was First Grade Field Day, which is a whole day near the end of the school year dedicated to outside fun and games.  I volunteered to be with Casey's class as they made their way through 26 stations of activities that lasted from 10 in the morning until 3 in the afternoon with Emily joining us at noon after pre-school.  It was a gorgeous, sunny day in the mid 70's; perfect for Field Day.  I led half of the class through the day and was utterly exhausted from the experience.  First graders like to be heard.  Loudly.  And they like, no, love to be the line leader.  And they keep track of who has been the line leader and who hasn't.  It might not be a bad idea to introduce Statistics into the curriculum in first grade, because these abilities could be capitalized on.  I likened the experience to herding cats or turtles at various times of the day.  But I had fun and I consider being an active participant in the girls' school part of my job now that I stay home with my girls.  But mommy needed a cold one and a nap after Field Day for sure - my ears were ringing for hours afterwards and, once again, I found myself thankful for my TWO girls and not eleven.  Teachers surely have 'professional cat and turtle herder' as well as 'an extraordinary amount of God-given patience' added to their skill set listed on their resumes.  If they don't they should.

Friday night was the First Grade dance at the girls' school and Casey danced and ate cheeseballs for 2 hours straight.  I asked her a few times if she wanted me to dance with her and with a quick, "No,thanks" she was off running and grooving with her friends.  It was fun to see.  Emily, on the other hand, surprised Tom and I with the shyness she presented in this situation.  Usually, she throws herself into a fun, social situation without any worries.  This time, though, she was a bit of a wallflower and observer.  It is such a sweet phase.  She did find a little friend or two her age that she ran around with for a while and even one of Casey's friends tried to encourage her to dance, but I'm pretty sure the highlight for Emily was observing... and eating cheeseballs.  

Sunday, Casey's Daisy Scout troop had a sweet little ceremony in which they officially became Brownies.  You could tell Casey thought this was a big deal and I even caught her fidgeting a bit in anticipation of becoming a member of the next "older girl" step.  It was sweet and the girls had fun with the picnic and playground afterwards.

Christmas cookies 2009

Sunday afternoon I enlisted the girls help in baking for the dessert I was bringing to the picnic.  Every time I want to bake cookies with the girls, I always start by thinking: "This will be so much fun!  Me and my kids baking in the kitchen......"  Images of Nestle Toll House commercials and photos in those parenting magazines illustrating a happy, apron-clad mother with her adorable little helpers come to mind.  As I start to pull out the flour, sugar, and eggs, I hear the scraping of the step stools being drug across the floor and then being smashed into the cabinets as my girls haul them out in order to position themselves at the correct height.  And then I hear those sweet little voices start in with, "I want to pour the flour in!  No, it's my turn!"  and "Can I eat the chocolate chips?!...  But I want to!!"  And in an instant I realize that those images I conjured up of those calm mothers are voiceless!  In the commercial, there is a voice-over telling the viewer how wonderful their product is because if it were video-taped live, you would hear the mother saying "Please don't touch that!!" for the umpteenth time just before she takes a nip of vodka.  And in the magazine, only a moment is captured in the photo and I'm sure it is right before the flour is dumped over onto the counter and the eggs are added to the batter before she can pick out the shells.  And you surely don't see the dance that said mother is doing around those little stools that are positioned directly in front of the mixer and her frantic attempts to maneuver around the 20 little fingers that are trying to dip into the batter.

Emily 'helping' bake 2009

Okay, maybe that's just my reality....

But the next time I want to bake cookies, the chaos of my kitchen will not be the first image that will come to mind.  It will be those idealistic images in the ads.  From here I could go into the brilliance of the people working in marketing or think about how amazing it is that we seemingly forget some less-than ideal moments in our lives.  I am convinced we were all given the gift of selective memory for the benefit of our sanity.  The best example I can think of is childbirth.  Mother Nature sure has a way of blocking out most of that experience; so much that you might actually do it again!  (and again and again for some of you!)  Without our ingrained selective memory, I'm sure most of us would call it quits after trying that experience once!  And I guess it is the same selective memory that allows us to let ourselves fall in love again after being hurt before.  Or forget how awful that last hangover was and merrily have another drink or two the next time.   But that selective forgetfulness, thankfully, doesn't work for everything - a personal example is the taste of mustard.  Yep, I can remember vividly what that tastes like and know not to eat something with mustard on it ever again.  (yuck!)  Anyhow, I am grateful for my selective memory that allows me to jump back into the arena of baking cookies each time.  And blissfully hopeful that 12 hours in the car with the kids will be only a joyous, fun-filled adventure when we head out on our next family vacation, as I'm not able to recall exactly the details of the crying and screaming in the car of our last trip.  Teachers might get a dose of it as they anticipate the beginning of the next school year forgetting they will be herding cats and turtles for the next 9 months.  And it probably will allow me to forget just how exhausted I was after Field day so that I sign up as volunteer again next year.  Thankfully, selecting only the good memories to keep; filling my mind with images of me and my girls that would grace any magazine ad or commercial. 

First Grade Field Day 2012