I'm a costume designer, makeup artist, teacher, mom, knitter, baker, want-to-learn-how-to-do-it-all

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I'm a costume designer, makeup artist, teacher, mom, sewer, knitter, baker, want-to-learn-how-to-do-it-all, blogging, Costumed Beagle enthusiast. I am not always pleasant, although through intensive cupcake therapy I have learned not to throw knives at people anymore.

Friday, May 18, 2012

I'm Good in a Crisis

5th grade curriculum includes student reports on states.  William got New Hampshire.  He has been working, pretty diligently, on this for several weeks.  They had to draw the flag, complete a fact sheet, complete a set of note cards, do a 4 page report, give a speech and then will have a full "states fair" next week that parents will attend.  We know a lot about New Hampshire now.  Most of this he has done on his own...until his paper was due.  He had spent a couple of hours typing it up, when he emerged from the basement teary eyed saying he was going to fail this assignment.  Drama is not a new thing 'round these parts, so I didn't react too much.  "What's wrong?"
He replied that he was almost done and then his paper had disappeared and now he couldn't get it back.
Oh no.
I tromped downstairs to take a peek and execute my well practiced ctrl Z move, but William had closed Word.
oh no.
Me: "Why did you turn it off?"
Wm: "Because my paper was gone."
Me: "But I could have got it back, luv, did you save it at all?"
Wm: "no."
oh no.
This was beyond my magical ctrl Z powers, and after a few frantic phone calls discovered it probably was gone forever.

But my sweet boy, who has a bit of trouble this year focusing on schoolwork, had done the work and was now in tears. Enter mom-in-crisis mode.

Me: "Well lucky for you, I type fast.  You dictate your paper to me, and I will type it out, and we will have it all back before you can think twice about it."

And that is what we did. We then also had a very important lesson in Saving documents.  It took me about a half hour to put things to right and my luv trotted off to scouts in a much altered mood.  I did not get dinner fixed that night, but it was OK.  And it brought back to mind my own mother.  I do not have a lot of good memories involving my mom.  That is a small part of why I find Mother's Day so troublesome, although not entirely.

She was not an involved mom.  I never remember her coming to a game, or a play, or really anything growing up.  I never remember her helping me with homework or even asking me about school. But I do have a few select memories of her in a crisis.  In fact I have three good memories of my mom stepping up and fixing a problem I had. I treasure these memories. I will share one.

I was a Senior in High School and had a big paper due in Mrs. Hagen's English Class (PVHS friends will remember that class!)  I had done the work, and had proceeded to type it up on our brand new computer (oh that sad little machine!) the night before it was due.  I worked in High School after all my extra-curriculars, and often did not get home until after midnight, which is when, I assume I began typing.  I was not a very fast typer then, and I cannot remember when I finished, but much like William, as I finished up, the computer froze up and the only way to deal with it was to reboot.  All was lost.
I was in a panic.  My mom usually worked early in the morning and was often gone before we all got up.  I think I was still up when she was leaving, trying to fix my computer problem.  I don't remember much else, except that she took my hand written paper and told me she would get it to me before my class.  Back-in-day, there weren't a lot of options for typing up a paper.  But she knew she could go into St. George to the public library and there she typed it up on a type writer and brought it by the school (I'm not even sure she'd ever been there before that day) and got it to me on time.  She pulled through in a crisis.
I like to think that even though they are few, those are the moments I've chosen to glean and use for my own mothering purposes.  I'd like to think my kids know they could come to me in a crisis.  And that I could make it better.

1 comment:

  1. Great post! Really great post. Thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete