Pee Pee Dance

Braydon was fine when I dropped him off at school this morning but by the time I closed the door behind me I could see him coming around the corner after washing his hands, and he was in tears already. I called later and they said he was fine. But when I picked him up I noticed he was doing the potty dance, so I asked him if he had to pee. It was then that I noticed he had on the pair of shorts I put in his "just in case" bag at the beginning of the semester. Bray told me he had an accident in his pants at school. This is the first time he's peed his pants in well over a year. I have no idea what happened that could have brought this on, but given yesterday's issue, I'm sure I can guess he was picked on again. I don't know what to do about this. And the girl at the front desk of the preschool could have TOLD ME about it, if only so that I'd take his peed in clothes! Perhaps I could have noticed the change before we left, but I didn't even think to notice it because this is the first time it's happened. I hope things turn back around for him, because just a couple of weeks ago, Braydon didn't want to be anywhere other than school and now he hates it. He keeps saying, "I've decided I'm not going to school anymore." Grrrrrrr.

Loans, Homework and Tests

I just found out I'll be able to get a student loan this year. Just in time too, because I am already almost out of my grant money. Life is expensive! It is no picnic not working. I still think I've made the best possible choice in quitting my job and going back to school, but this is a whole new life.

It's been so hard getting my assignments done on time with a three year old constantly either begging me to play, jumping on me or needing mommy for something. I really didn't expect anything different. And it's so hard to have to tell your precious child that you can't play with him because you have homework. He has no idea what that means except that mommy has something on the computer that is temporarily more important than what he wants at that very moment. I can't even imagine how that must feel. But so it goes, because homework must be done.

Tomorrow is my first college test. Other students in my classes said that was odd; they've all had tests already. It will be for my Art History class, and I think I'll do just fine. I do need to study though, but that won't happen until Bray goes to sleep. Which has been a whole other challenge lately!

Despite all the difficulties, school has been incredible. Braydon is happy in school and I love all my classes. I have had a few "I don't want to go to school today" comments from Bray, but lets face it... we ALL feel that way sometimes.

College Success for Everyone

In an earlier post I mentioned how completely useless I thought the college success course would be to me. I've been working since I was 13 years old, only ever had two jobs where I wasn't promoted (and actually received a raise at one of those two), and I feel that I've developed a good set of employable skills. I'm not going to school because I can't get a job. I am going to school to get a degree to back up my skills and to learn more about being a writer. I have loved many of my past jobs, but in the end none of them were what I wanted to "be when I grew up".

As it turns out..... there is a lot I need help with. I know this. I don't deny it. However, I had written the above mentioned class off as something that would only help with time management and note taking (both of which I think I'm good at). I've been to this class three times now and in all honesty the first two seemed to confirm my thoughts. In this last class though, we went over everything we would be doing over the next sessions and what we could hope to learn. I see now that this class will offer stress management techniques (which I need), tips on emotional intelligence (lets face it, even the most "responsible" among us could use this), assistance with career planning (if I didn't need this, I'd be a successful author by now) and an array of other seemingly helpful topics. I think for now, I'll open my mind to the possibility of learning something new in this class....

Pink Elephants on Parade

During ENG101 we watched the clip from Dumbo known as "Pink Elephants on Parade". Whether you remember the whole movie or not, you likely remember this part of the movie. After our instructor showed us the clip, he gave us five minutes to write as much as we could about, not only what we saw, but what the scene meant. Basically it was a short review. Here's what I came up with.

Disney’s Dumbo is an animated film that takes the audience on an elephant’s quest to come to terms with his large ears. The lovable elephant befriends a mouse named Timothy Q Mouse and, in one scene, the two get into more trouble than they bargained for. This particular segment of the famous Disney movie stands out as one of the most memorable because of its dark tones and eerie music. After becoming accidentally intoxicated, Dumbo and Timothy Mouse begin to have a hallucination of pink elephants that sing, dance and perform before their eyes. Startled, Timothy Mouse asks in terror, “are you seeing what I’m seeing,” before seeking cover under Dumbo’s hat as he peers out questioning what he is viewing. The two friends watch in disbelieve and fear as a pink elephant produces another elephant from his trunk. This is continued until four elephants are formed, each made from the truck of the one before him. The elephants begin to play trumpets and symbols, growing and shrinking with the noise they are creating. A brief moment later and you are now watching these, and other elephants crawl through windows as they begin to sing a cautionary song about their own presence. These elephants continue to transform into various shapes and colors including pyramids and snakes, theater masks and dancers, figure skaters and snowmen. This continues on, until two dancing elephants, outlined in blue and pink, created a spark of electricity that turns into lighting. The obviously male figure throws the lightning bolt at the elephant with female features, and from this a group of smaller pink dancing elephants is created. The elephants then become various vehicles with eventually crash into each other, bringing the hallucination to an end. On the surface, the scene is a caution to young children of the dangers of becoming intoxicated, a theme that is found in many early Disney movies. Pink Elephants on Parade also includes undertones of sexuality, and caution of releasing one’s inhibitions; it brings to the surface a fear of what may be hidden in the darkness of your own mind.

Where the End Met the Beginning

A Little Bragging Please First ENG 101 Essay

The topic: 3 pages on a photograph that has significance in the student's life
The photo I chose: the 1st sonogram of my son

The rough draft of my first English 101 essay was due 2 weeks ago. We got them back last Friday with the teacher's comments and edit marks. I am very proud to say that the only thing he took out was a comma and a word that was just a typo. Not only that, but his main comment was, "You end with the word simple twice, but let me say that your story is anything but simple. This is a wonderful tale that is filled with genuine and heartfelt sentiment. This is as close to a flawless draft as any I have ever read. Excellent job". When I read this I was floored! I like to think I am a good writer, but this was one of the best compliments ever. Would you like to see why he said this? Well, the paper is below. I won't be posting everything I ever turn in, but this is about my son's first photograph, and I'd like to share it. Hope it touches you in some way...


Where the End Met the Beginning

Perhaps the single most important photograph taken in my, then 21 years of life, this simple black and white image represents a lifelong intuitive dream come true. With each glance at the picture, a rush of pure love flows through me. That certain, unmistakable piercing in my heart, takes me back to that life altering moment. In observing the 4x6 still, my mind travels to the day that brought physical evidence to the drastic change I was in the midst of. Measure marks and statistics line the right side. “MILLER, TARA,” date and time and more technical markings run along the top. What is memorable, however, is the blurry triangle of life nestled in a dark abyss.

Surrounded by a thin black metal frame, the first photograph of my son stands atop my desk. Within the frame, perfectly suited for this picture, a border of white compliments the black square that surrounds the focal point of this memory. It is a faint image that most people can’t make out. One that I wasn’t sure I was seeing correctly, laying there in the doctor’s office over three years ago. Deep within the grain of grey lays a little boy’s head and body. The shape is so clear to me now; a defined facial structure and a round belly with two appendages that almost look like arms. Wide black circles where eyes would eventually shine and a smile, I was sure, that could light up a room. This is the personification of every intense emotion I’d felt the four months prior to my ultrasound.

Among a sea of family memories, the barely noticeable face of a four month old fetus shines though. Pictures of the beach and holiday get-togethers bring fond memories; however they don’t hold the same utterly consuming sense of purpose as the first sonogram image of my child. This small symbol of infinite opportunity is a constant reminder of how fragile my son is; how fragile we all are. It is in place on my desk to keep that knowledge constantly visible. Though the love never hides behind errands and rules, it is all too easy to let the overflowing emotion of being a mother fade out during everyday routines. Being able to see his face, before it was recognizable, before there were dos and don’ts floating around in his mind, keeps me grounded. It allows me take a step back and realize that there is a bigger picture; to see that whatever roadblock life has thrown on my path, it too shall pass. In the cloudy view of a new life, I see a vessel of pure possibility, my biggest responsibility.

As I lay in the reclining doctor’s office chair on January 23, 2006, I thought about the last several years of my life that had led up to this moment. It did not happen how I had expected, but incredible life changes rarely do. I had always known deep in my heart that I would be a mother. Although the moment came unexpectedly and during the worst time of my life, it was here and there was no going back to what things were before. Waiting for the technician to come into the room, my mother and sister sat with me and we talked a bit about what lay ahead. What was said exactly escapes my mind, but the thoughts going through my head ring as clear today as they did then. I was looking at these two woman who’d been there for me my whole life and who were now standing by my side, when I needed them most, but they weren’t who should have been there. Fighting back tears I wished my child’s father could be with me that day, however much an impossibility it was. Not willing to let the hardships that led me here override the connection I felt to my supporters, I giggled at the tears rolling down my mother’s checks and let my eyes swallow the one’s trying to travel down mine.

With a cold jelly-like substance smeared across my stomach and one arm beneath my head, I breathed in deeply and slowing. This was it; the moment that would make this all real. Two months earlier, the nurse’s words “You’re pregnant” had changed my life drastically. I’d given it all up, every last bad habit, with the sound of those three syllables, but on this day the preparations and changes would be brought to life on the small grey screen in front of me. The tall woman in scrubs smelled like faint roses and had a gentile touch as she rolled the transducer over the small swell of my abdomen. A heartbeat, a head, a body, legs, arms and… “Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” she asked. With my answer, a penis was pointed out and a sigh of complete relief washed over the small room. Having dreamt about girls for months, I was sure the ultrasound would reveal a different outcome, but I was hoping for a boy and was filled with delight to be given that answer.

Several pictures were recorded and different body parts were discussed as I held in the tears and my mother let them go without any restraint. Though my face was void of salty evidence, I was overwhelmed at the sight of my baby boy on that screen. My entire being was flowing with wildly thriving emotions that I’d never felt; emotions for this tiny person who was ultimately saving my life. Being given the gift that is parenthood had changed me in just a few short months, and I knew it was only the beginning. Leaving behind the person I was before my pregnancy wasn’t hard. I’d left so many pieces of myself behind for a lot less in the past. This time, however, it was for the sake of something beyond the physical world as we know it. It was, and still is, for the sake of creating a life and the road taken after his birth is what would present the biggest challenge.

Able to feel him inside of me in a different way after the ultrasound, I had realized that I was not just carrying a fragile person, but something so much more. Cradled inside my body was a new soul; a new living, breathing soul capable of anything. It would be my main purpose in life to guide this being through his time on Earth. All my past experiences, successes and failures, all my predisposed judgment and all the things I was blind to, would come out in my parenting. With that realization, fear suddenly became ever present in the package of emotions I was now carrying around. This person, untainted then, will grow, think, feel, love, hate, live and, eventually, die. He, like every other human, was born with no inhabitations or judgment, no idea of how his new world would work. Every time I look at the picture sitting in a simple frame, on my simple desk, I take a step outside myself to remember that this life is anything but simple and I allow myself, and my son, to make mistakes and to learn great lessons from them all.

Beauty, A Kick in the Face and An Exposed Personality

After nearly a week in school, Bray and I are trying to settle into the new routines. As I mentioned in the post about our first day, we both love school so far. To date, I've had Elements of Intercultural Communication, Intro to Art History and Mythology. All extremely interesting classes which seem as though they will not only educate me on the subject matter, but help me better understand myself and my own outlook on the world. This of course, is exactly what I am hoping to do. As a writer, it is my goal during my college career to open my mind to the infinite possibilities of the universe and obtain knowledge of the world around me. This will make me a better writer, a better person and hopefully, a better mother.

The communications class so far, has been about getting to know our classmates and has made us aware of the judgement we use in making first impressions. Homework has consisted of reading the first two chapters, and after reviewing chapter 1 in class yesterday, it is clear that I went too far in my note taking. Four pages of notes and written answers to the chapter's review exercise proved to be overkill when all that was required in class Wednesday was to share one or two sentences of what we could remember. When I read the second chapter (due Monday), I'll take in down a notch or two. After 7 years of lacking structured education, it is hard to know what is expected.

Art History is awesome. We've learned a few basics, watched a clip of a Flash Mob (look it up... it's amazing!), and caught a glimpse into the meaning of art. I always just say that art is everything and everything is art; something I am sure I picked up from my father, who is an incredible artist . Although I still believe it to be true and that the word "art" has infinite definitions, I like the way our instructor defined the subject. He said, "Art is expression that is experienced". While a little more narrow that my personal definition, I can agree. Our first assignment is to find something that we consider beautiful or art, not necessarily a typical art piece, and describe in one page. Simple enough right? Considering that I am stunned, daily, by the mass amount of beauty that surrounds us, I am having a hard time pin pointing what to write about. I look up; I see white whimsical clusters containing the purest nectar of life, waiting until they are too full to keep hold of the drops intended to sustain life. I look down as the sun light bounces off thousands of tiny rock particles, reminding me how fragile even the hardest parts of our souls are. Ahead in the distance the ocean water genitally rolls to shore, colliding with glistening sand, bringing with it peace and unity, reminding me of the depths of uncertainty. Of course, I could describe a piece of blown glass, the incredible Aurora Boreas, the shocking 3D sidewalk art of Julian Beever or Kurt Wenner, the cliff homes of Santorini, The Louvre.... the list goes on and on and on, and I'm not sure where to stop, or begin.

In Mythology, we will obviously learn of Gods and Goddesses, Heroes and epic tragedies; however these first two classes (and I expect more to come) have revolved around us, the students. We have taken a personality quiz, which revealed me to be an idealist, and had to write a mad-lib style mythical identity. Mine read "I am Tara, protector of Earth. I come from the depths of the ocean and travel to the infinite abyss." I'm sure I could have dug deeper and come up with something better, as did a fair amount of the students in the class, but this is what spit out of me in the 3 minutes we had to work with. The words lingered in my mind that entire Tuesday. "I am Tara, the undefined mother of an untainted soul. I come from the grips of Dionysus and travel the path of the un-named Goddess within."

Braydon has absolutely loved school and everything about it. Monday he was devastated when it was time to go and just HAD TO show me everything about the class and the playground before he could even think about going home. Tuesday I could hear him crying in my heart, and when I walked through the preschool door, he was sobbing on a chair with an ice pack to his cheek. Apparently Braydon was standing in front of the swings, not realizing that he was supposed to move, and another little boy came down from his flight, accidentally kicking my baby in the face! After kisses and comfort, we had to talk about forgiveness. I didn't need to cover clearing the runway because the teacher finished that lesson up as I arrived that afternoon. Wednesday all the kids took a campus walk and got snow cones. Braydon hasn't stopped talking about the beautiful little girl whose hand he held on the walk, but whose name he can not remember. Today seemed to be an uneventful day, with only an hour and a half in class, but he was happy when I picked him up. Bedtime on the other hand, has been a miniature tragedy in itself. Nap time is really screwing up my child's perfect bed time routine. Today I picked him right before this dreaded hour and a half of sleep filled misery and have high hopes for a smooth night. Tomorrow will be my first day in English class and Bray will be in his class a little earlier than normal, so he will get to experience a few new things as well. What, exactly, we shall hear about early afternoon (before nap time) when I come to bring my son home for our first "weekend".

A Week of Preperation

In the last week, I have been non-stop in my quest to prepare for the big day. With a to-do list still staring at me from my bulletin board, it still feels like school is a million days away, when in actuality, tomorrow marks the start of our educational leap.

Saturday, August 15th: The iStartSmart orientation is a new requirement for first year community college students in Maricopa County. The program is designed to prepare new students for school and equip them with organizational methods needed to stay on track in order to graduate. You start out with an online orientation, which I finished weeks ago. The next step is the in person orientation with a group of new students, a director and a few campus ambassadors. At this meeting, we learned about tutoring, academic advisement, clubs/organizations, etc. Nothing I didn't already read about online, still it was nice to meet some people I'd be attending school with. Starting in September I will be attending the third and final step of this program, in the form of a required college success course. The class is five weeks, once a week and one credit. The course description makes me angry. I am 25 years old and have a lot of real work experience. I believe I've mentioned this before, but I got my first job at 13 and have taken care of myself for a long time. In the twelve years I've been employed, I've worked in several different industries, gathering new lessons and talents along the way and leaving each job with a higher knowledge and self expectation than when I started. I see going to school as another new experience and will face it with the same openness that I have stared each new chapter in my life with. However, this required class will cover things I have already acquired, such as time management, organization skills and note taking tips. While I am infuriated by the apparent waste of time and money, I am hopeful that I will leave that room at the end of the five weeks with at least one bit of new information. With a graduation rate of only 14%, the school certainly needs to take some steps in helping students reach their goals.

Sunday I cleaned and re-organizing my apartment (specifically mine and my son's rooms). I'm overwhelmed and this, in addition to making lists, helps me stay focused on what I am working towards.

Monday the 17th, marked my third attempt to get Bray officially enrolled in preschool. The woman I'd been speaking to had given me a whole list of wrong information and was the cause of my having to come down to the school two too many times to do something that should have been done long ago. This time, I called ahead of time to make sure that the director of the preschool was there. I was told by the "other woman" that I couldn't pay the registration fee and receive the forms unless she was present. I was told this in person, when I came to the school to do it, under the advisement of said woman. When I called, the director, a very nice and professional woman, informed me that I do not pay her. Instead I go to the business center and make the payment; something I could have done the last time I was there. Angry and overwhelmed I came in that afternoon and got everything taken care of. I decided to just let it go. What was done, was done and no amount of complaining would change that. Although, I did very nicely let the director know that I was given wrong information on several occasions and that I think perhaps the woman I spoke to was unsure of what needed to be said to the parents. I felt bad, but I had to say something in order to allow myslef to just get over the frustration. It worked.

Tuesday I filled out forms and spent some good quality time playing with my son. There will be so little of it starting tomorrow.

Wednesday I had a parents orientation for the preschool at 2pm. I was told not to bring my son unless absolutely necessary, so I arranged for my sister to watch him for a bit. She lives in an apartment complex in the heart of the ASU area in Tempe. This was the day, apparently, that all the out-of-state freshmen were arriving with there parents and suitcases, and all the on campus residents were moving into their dorms. If you have ever lived or been in a college town on a day like this, you know that the streets and sidewalks are flooded with people. It took me 15 whole minutes to drive one mile. I was glad I was going to a community college near my home and not here. Anywhere, but here. I finally dropped my son off at 5 minutes to 2pm. I was 20 minutes away from where I needed to be. After I made my way out of the sea of college students and just accepted the fact that I was going to be late, I started wondering how vastly different my life would be if I'd gone to a university right out of high school instead of waiting so long. For a brief moment I thought I'd be better off now, but I'd never have met Braydon's father - that I am certain of. Which means I wouldn't be Braydon's mother and no amount of success would be worth that. Changing one step on your life's path can alter the future in a huge way. I couldn't give this thought of "what if" another second of my precious time.

Thursday I got my books! Friday I took my sister to get her books. All weekend I've been cleaning and preparing for what tomorrow morning will bring. I am nervous, excited, scared and happy all at the same time, and I'm loving every second of it.

Nervousness

Welcome, dear nervous feeling. I was wondering when you'd creep up.

These past five months have been filled with paperwork, tests, meetings and school supply shopping. I've kept busy and gone through the motions of everyday life. Now, with just two weeks left and only a few more formalities, I am starting to get that certain feeling in my stomach and heaviness in my heart that tells me a major life change is about to take place. I suppose you call this feeling "nervous". I am not worried about how things will go, or scared that I will fail; however when a change takes place, no matter how prepared I am or how much I welcome the difference in life, I can't help but feel anxious and a bit nervous.

Some changes do bring fear and a uncertainty to my mind. Will I fail? Will this be a mistake? However, starting school and sending Braydon to preschool doesn't feel that way to me. It most certainly isn't a mistake, and I know that I will do everything I can to succeed in my classes, yet still the nervousness is ever present. I was getting ready to go to the school today to complete the preschool registration process for Braydon when the nervousness started to sink in. I couldn't eat breakfast this morning (still haven't) and my heart started to beat harder as I got Braydon dressed. I haven't been able to focus on anything 100% and as I was driving to the school, the palms of my hands got sweaty. It's official, I'm nervous.

The feeling is mostly for Braydon. My first, and only child is about to begin school. This is the first year of many to come, where my baby will be sent off to a classroom and will learn the wonders of education. I will no longer be the only major "teacher" in his life. Sure, he's been cared for by babysitters and our family and friends have had some influence in what he has been taught these first three years, but I have been the main educator in his life. I taught him, among other things, how to walk and talk, how to eat with a fork and use the potty, to share his toys and sing his alphabet. As early as my pregnancy, I have considered the fact that other people will teach my child, and I have viewed it as a positive thing. Obviously he will go to school and learn from a teacher, but there are so many things that I can not teach him that I want him to learn: how to musical instruments, how to surf, to fish, to play sports, etc. I have always known that in order to be a well rounded person, he would need to have a wide array of teachers through out his life. However, now that the dawn is upon us, I am feeling nervous and judgemental.

I have spoken to two different women from the preschool so far. One of the woman is seems confident, clear spoken and professional. The other appears to be the exact opposite. I realize that sending Braydon to the on-campus preschool (or Early Childhood Education Center) means that he will be supervised and taught by students in who are enrolled in the Early Childhood Education program, as well as the director/teachers of those classes. I am OK with that, but for some reason when I was on the phone with this girl, who spoke in a very small voice and stuttered when she answered my questions, I found myself questioning if this was the right choice. I pride myself on not being a judgemental person, but there I was, judging her. I realize that Braydon will encounter all types of people during his life, and I think that is a beautiful thing, but because I have gone through a selection of child care providers, all of whom ending up being a big mistake, I now find myself feeling nervous about who will be caring for my child. There are plenty of other reasons I should be nervous about sending him to school, and starting school myself, but this is what brought it on. For now, I will be keeping an open mind and reminding myself that we are all different, and this quiet, stuttering woman on the phone may be nervous as well.

Financial Aid Awarded

Today I received my financial aid award letter. When I opened the letter and glanced at the estimated cost vs. the aid offered, I nearly lost my mind! I immediately called my sister, who has been attending college for the past few years, without taking the time to read the full document. She assured me that I couldn’t possibly need $17,164 to attend a community college and had me review it again. I noticed that they laid out a budget for room and board, transportation and personal items. “THANK GOD!” I said, as I started to calm down to my normal self. Always read a document in it’s entirety before you come to a conclusion. Classes cost $71/credit and books, if I buy them used should only be about $50 each. I’ll need to factor in the cost of preschool, which is astonishingly low. The school is close and I doubt I’ll need $2,574 for transportation, as the letter indicated. Since room and board and personal expenses are already covered by other means, $2,675 per semester should do it. I’m not sure why, but I expected I’d need a lot more. Hopefully there aren’t some hidden costs of school that I am unaware of. Do I see a laptop in my near future?

School Supply Lists

In an effort to save potential readers the overwhelming despair I felt standing in the school supply isle, lost in a sea of soccer moms, below is a list of some necessities for going back to school that I have gathered. You'll find a general list for college and pre-school. I’d love to get a list for elementary and high school, but in all honestly I don’t have time for that, what with a three year old tugging on my shirt at this very moment!

From late July to early August, stores everywhere have great deals on everything related to back to school you can imagine. You can also purchase items at the campus bookstore; however the cost will typically be higher. You may also choose to shop online, if you’re not up for the crowds during this season of deals. Office supply stores such as Staples, Office Max and Office Depot have great deals this time of year, with websites that are easy to navigate. Hope this helps!

College
Notebooks - I suggest one for each class
Folders - for hand outs & print outs
Binder
Printer paper
Pens and/or pencils
Lead refills or pencil sharpener
Highlighters
Stapler and staples – for multiple page assignments
Paperclips
Tape (not sure when I’ll actually need this for class, but I will certainly let you all know when I come across a situation.)
Calculator – certain classes may require a specific type of calculator (i.e. graphing). Check with your professor if you are unsure.
Reference books such as a dictionary & thesaurus –
Day planner/Organizer
Backpack - this is a personal choice. I know people who carry their books to class, running out to their car to swap their English material for their math. You may choose a standard backpack, a messenger bag, or (for the ladies) a purse. Personally, I will be bringing a purse I purchased from Barnes and Nobel that fits my books and notebooks perfectly.
Computer or laptop – some schools require students to have a computer, while others provide a computer lab; however if possible, it is best to own one for doing research and typing assignments. You will also need a printer and a way to connect to the internet. As a suggestion, flash drives and/or CDs are great for transferring files or keeping back-up. If you are a parent going to college, I’d suggest you invest in a lap top if possible. This way you can utilize time out with your child, say at the park, to work on your class assignments.
Work Space – if you already have a home office or a desk, then you’ve got this covered. If not, then it would be great to set up an area where you can work on assignments and keep items such as a stapler, hole punch, trash can, post-its, back-up notebooks, etc. If this isn’t in your budget, put all your supplies in a box or container of some sort and store it near the table where you can pull out what you need when you need it.


Pre-School
Because each preschool varies in their policies and preschool age children do not need too many items, you will need to check with the head of your child’s preschool to find out what you should bring, and what they prefer you do not send your child to school with. You may also want to stock up on some at home supplies to help your child practice what he/she has learned during the day. Here is a list of some items you may need to pick up, whether you use them for class or “homework”.

Backpack
Labels or tags – in preschool, as well as day cares, children need to label all of their belongings
Folder – for paper hand outs
Pencil pouch or box
Pencils and erasers
Crayons
Preschool safe scissors
Lunch box – you may also want to pick up a sandwich container, a snack bowl with a lid and a water bottle. Yes, these add to the cost, but when the year is over, you will have spent more on zip lock bags and individually wrapped snacks and drinks (in addition to the amount of waste)
A change of clothes – most preschools require that your child is potty trained; however kids this age can still have accidents and you don’t want your child to be left without something clean to change into if this happens. (On that note, be on the look out for an upcoming blog about getting your pre-school child ready for using the potty in class!)
A box of tissues or baby wipes
A special personal item such as a photo or stuffed animal – check with the teacher to make sure this is allowed

If I find that either of us need something not on this list, I'll you all know! Happy shopping!

School Supply Shopping

Standing in the school supply isle at Walmart, young children running around me, teenagers arguing with their parents about what type of pencils to buy, and college kids only slightly younger than me with carts full of dorm room items, I stared blankly at the wide verity of writing tools; my son draped over my upper body fast asleep and seeming to weight 100 lbs. I headed out to the store shortly after lunch with an energetic boy in tow thinking I'd run in and pick up a couple notebooks, a box of pens and some folders for paper handouts. My son, who outgrew naps six months ago, passed out in the cart and now that I was in front of the array of products and watching all these people purchase their education, my heart sank. I thought about going home to let him sleep, but this might be the only chance I got to school shop without a 3 year old begging for toys or new books. Overwhelmed and on the verge of a headache, I stayed and tried to determine the most necessary supplies.

I filled a corner of the cart with one 5 subject notebook, a box of pens, a small package of mechanical pencils, a few highlighters and 4 folders for handouts. “This ought to do it,” I thought and headed to the grocery side of the store to pick up a few more items. All in one shopping at Walmart – 7 years ago I despised Walmart for their corporate-ness. Now almost 25 years old with a child and quite a few years of real work experience, I love Walmart. My sleeping son was now awake and back in the cart after I shamefully bribed him in with a pack of pez I had in my purse for a few weeks.

When I returned home I decided to take a look online to see if there were any sites that discussed college school supplies and see if I missed anything. This is something I should have done before I set out on my shopping trip. I am usually overly prepared when I go shopping, but I had the urge to just get this done with so I left the house with a vague idea of what I thought I needed. As I sorted through the various blogs and Yahoo! answers, the overwhelming feeling of being in way over my head grew to new heights. I missed a lot of things on these people’s list. At first thinking the majority of these items weren’t really necessary, I read on… and on. When I realized that I hadn’t even considered the fact that I needed a stapler to bind my assignments together, I wrote out a list and resolved to go back to the store when my sister could watch her nephew.

Three days and roughly $60 later, I feel completely assured that I have everything I will need; perhaps even a few luxury items. I have set up an office area in my room and plan on buying a lap top as soon as funds allow it. I am more organized on a personal level than I have been in a long time. I rarely buy anything for myself, and never do so without also picking something up for my child. During the second shopping trip I put together a little “school” package for Braydon. Pre-school age children don’t need a whole lot and I have yet to discuss specifics with the child care director, but I figured if he didn’t need these items at school, he could use them to do his “homework”. Check out my next blog for a list of back-to-school items for college students, pre-school children and more!

So You Want to Go to School? Now What?

During the last five months, I have gone through just about all the steps in order to start school this fall. Having just missed the spring semester when I quit my job, I focused my efforts on making a plan for the fall, which is now fast approaching. I’ve been working freelance jobs and selling baked goods on the side to make some extra cash. My mother has been a huge help and I couldn’t have even started this process without her. I’ve thought, several times, about giving up and looking for another job.

I got my first job at 13 and have been buying things for myself ever since. Moving out at 17, fresh out of high school, has taught me, among other things, to be a strong and independent woman. Living with and relying on my mother at the age of 24 is not where I expected to be, nor is it easy to deal with. However, this is where I am and I am grateful to have the chance to change my life for the better.

When I graduated high school I was going to take one year off, start college, become a journalist and live the life I’d dreamt about. It didn’t happen. Rent, car payments, phone bills, food, road trips, the party girl in me and eventually a child and a grown up life: it all costs money. I worked several different jobs and never started school, despite the several times I promised myself and my family I would.

After making the decision and enlisting my mother’s help, I couldn’t back out now. This is the only way I can even think about having a real career and making a good life for my son. I applied for financial aid right away and racked my brain for months to pick a degree. Everything I have ever wanted to be, with only one exception, works with an associate degree in arts, so that is what I will work towards. Deciding what I ultimately want to be when I “grow up” was always the hardest part for me. I change my mind too often and have never wanted to be stuck with only one choice. Now that I am an adult, I need to narrow my many fantasies and the one thing I know I am good at and will be happy doing is writing; whether I become an author, journalist, editor, etc.

So here I am, financial aid applied for, degree selected, placement exams taken, classes selected, academic advisor seen, pre-school arranged, school supplies bought. Two steps away from completing the new student process. I am a nervous wreck.

Making the Decision

Five months ago, as I was standing in front of the over-sized file cabinets sorting invoices alphabetically, I was regretting quitting my executive assistant position at an innovative company in a beautiful office that overlooked the mountains. There, they used my talents and gave me my own office with my name on the window and understood when I needed to take my son to the doctor or stay home with him when he was sick. I’d worked there since I was 3 months pregnant and they knew I was a single mother. As long as I worked hard and completed my tasks, they gave me the wiggle room a single mother needs. It was the best job I had ever had and if they hadn’t cut my hours from 40/week to 20/week, without any warning, I would probably still be there.

Perhaps the stress of being overworked and underpaid was starting to seep through the hard work they were used to getting out of me, or perhaps they were really doing budget cuts as the Director of HR informed me. Regardless, there I was, working 20 hours a week, making just under $15 an hour with a work load that required 50+ hours a week and performing tasks that should have made me at least $25 and hour. I regretted going to salary.com to find out how much I should have been making doing the job I was doing. I was satisfied before I saw that figure and knew that if I kept working as hard as I was then I’d keep going up in this company. When I started to feel unappreciated, it was hard to hide.

There I was watching my potential career be slashed to 20 hours a week and less that $1000 a month. This barely covered babysitting and commuting costs. I couldn’t do it long. Because the CEO assured me the hour cut was temporary, I stayed for three months, suffering everyday, before finally giving up on the company. I quit without a plan and moved back in with my mother. It wasn’t long before I found another job as an administrative assistant at a wholesale bakery; closer to home, full time and with insurance (a benefit I wasn’t receiving at the “perfect job”). It was a little over $2 and hour less, but the extra 20 hours a week made my income higher than it was before.

I had been reduced to filing invoices and taking bakery orders over the phone after almost three years of climbing to a position where I supported two Vice Presidents of Strategic Development and a CEO. I handled international communications, helped develop products and websites, wrote franchise articles, edited a book, created full business proposals on my own (a job that typically takes a team of professionals), attended a few investor meetings, worked with the sales associates, bought advertising for our company, developed a charity organization, ran two entire departments and a long list of other duties. I did not belong in this bakery taking phone orders making $12 an hour and not needing to think for any part of my job. I lasted three months then quit with the intention of going back to school. I was 24 years old and my son was 2 ½. Spring semester had already started, but I couldn’t stay there another day, despite the desperate attempts of my supervisor, who was immensely overqualified for her position as well. I quit the same day I made the decision without a two weeks notice, which I hadn’t done since one of my high school jobs at TCBY nearly 8 years ago. With my mom’s promise to help, I decided that this would be the time I actually go back to school, instead of just talk about it for the millionth time. This time it is going to happen.