Halloween Party

How do all you other bloggers figure out what to write about? When I read other people's blogs and they're just writing about their day to day lives it seems pretty easy, but easier said than done I guess.

Yesterday I volunteered to be a helper at Maddie's 3rd grade Halloween party. I only work 1/2 days on Fridays anyway (have I mentioned that I love my job??) so I just worked from home in the morning and then went to the school about noon. First, I helped the girls get into their Halloween costumes for the parade K-4 does. That was cute - one girl had a Spiderella costume with a great big stand up collar that WOULD NOT stand up. I managed to get it standing up with a couple of safety pins and I swear I thought she was going to hug me until she remembered that she was cool and I wasn't her mother. That was the high point, because from there it just went downhill.

The room mother put me in charge of the craft table, which I could have told her was a mistake because I am the least crafty person you will ever meet. No creative sense, less patience. Plus, we didn't have enough pencils and only 2 pairs of scissors for a table of 5 kids, and only 10 minutes to do the craft (foam bats) before the bell rang and they had to move to the musical chairs. It was an exercise in frustration for everyone involved. The glue sticks weren't strong enough to hold the pieces of their bat together, they argued with each other over who got to use the scissors, whined that they didn't know how to do it, etc. I was ready to quit by the second group. Next time I volunteer it will be for something cool and outside, like the after school picnic on the last day. Then if anyone gets bored they can go play on the jungle gym.

Anxious

Maddie is a very anxious child. She's a perfectionist, which is often a source of great angst. She started third grade this year, and heard a lot from various grown ups in her life (including me and Dave) that third grade was the big leagues. TOTAL FAIL. Seriously, I don't know what we were thinking, 'cause guess what? 2 weeks into third grade she was crying about how much harder it is than second grade.

It really isn't though - she just psychs herself out. Mostly she likes it fine and does just fine.

You know what she's worried about this week? Passing the 1 mile run part of the President's physical fitness test. That's right, my child is afraid of gym class. She has managed to convince herself that running the mile means running, full tilt, as fast as she can, for the entire mile, and that if she does that she'll get a stitch in her side, her throat will hurt, and she'll throw up, which will be beyond embarrassing. No matter how much I tried to convince her last night that the person who finishes first and the person who finishes last get the same grade, and that running the mile just means jogging the mile, she just couldn't think rationally about it. Since the one mile run wasn't even scheduled to occur until Friday (tomorrow), I just cut off all discussion after a certain period of time, since it was obvious that she was just getting more upset.

So tonight, she brings it up again, and Dave says:

"Look - this is ridiculous. Did anyone die doing it Tuesday? (boys did it Tuesday).

"No."

"Did anyone burst into flames?"

"No," this time with a smile.

"Did anyone's head explode like a watermelon?"

"No," this time with a big grin.

"Then, on Friday, when you're doing it, if anyone dies, bursts into flames, or gets hit by an exploding head, you can start walking instead of running."

She laughed and hasn't mentioned it again. This, after I spent a half hour yesterday trying to coax her out of hysterics. I'm going to choose to think I laid the groundwork for this result.