No!! I Was Not Late For Work Just Because I Was Pulling The Skin On My Face Very Taut, So That I Could See What I Would Look Like If I Ever Had A Facelift...There Were Other Reasons, Too.

I was almost late again for work this morning, and not just because I feel like the Tin Man from the "Wizard of Oz," due to all the metal in my back, when I first wake up each day.  It isn't even because, now, just a few days before my 53rd birthday, I have to allot extra time in the morning, so that I can try different ways to stretch my skin taut, while I am applying my make-up.  This, of course, allows me, for a moment or two, to remember what I looked like in years past, before I ended up with so many wrinkles.  No, I was almost late again because I always watch "Channel 7 Action News" and "Good Morning America," and I am constantly distracted by all the important observations I am compelled to make during the course of these newscasts.  Luckily for you, I am willing to share my remarkable insights, so that you too, may ponder them while you are getting ready for work tomorrow, ensuring that you will possibly be late, as well.
1. Why can't American newscasters be more like the anchor of the Canadian news show "The National."  Much like Walter Cronkite, in days of old, he simply reports the news, in a professional manner.  He respects the viewers enough to allow them to form their own opinions about events, and never attempts to influence them through his tone of voice or ad-lib remarks. Additionally, he does not engage in any insipid banter with his co-workers, which I am especially appreciative of.  Perhaps, it would be more tolerable if this supposed jocularity used to segue from topic to topic was actually amusing, but sadly it seldom is.  My feeling is, if you are going to engage in banter that I am forced to be a captive audience to, make sure it is witty and amusing!!!!!
2. The recent case of that poor Grosse Pointe woman, who was strangled and then found dead in her Mercedes, has been getting a great deal of coverage, both locally and nationally.  Two days in a row now the reports have stated that her body was found shoved between the front and back seats, and then, very cryptically, they add that a prescription bottle was found on the seat, as well. What does that mean?  Is that an important clue that provides the key to solving the case?  I mean, I even watch all those true murder shows on Court TV and I still do not grasp the significance of that tidbit of information.  I carry my prescription high blood pressure medication in my purse, and, if you have ever been unfortunate enough to need to get something out of it, it will come as no surprise to you that things like my medication are falling out onto the seat all the time!  If I should ever be found dead in similar circumstances, please do not spend anytime analyzing that information, because most of the time when that happens I DO NOT END UP BEING MURDERED...I just end up being annoyed, because I can't find my high blood pressure medicine when I need it.
3.  It was reported that Peyton Manning may not be able to return to football again, following his third surgery on his neck.  I am not sure what the first two surgeries were exactly, but I know the last one was a cervical spinal fusion.  I, myself, have had three spinal fusion surgeries, since January of 2008.  Two were lumbar spinal fusions, but the last one was a cervical fusion, like Peyton Manning's.  As sorry as I am that his injuries are such, that they may prohibit him from returning to the sport that he loves, and one that he certainly excels at, is it really any surprise that someone, whose spine is now fused together by utilizing metal spacers, cadaver bone and screws, should not participate in a sport in which the other team's objective is to prevent him from passing the ball by knocking his so hard, that he will, hopefully, find himself in an entirely different football game when he gets back up?  Seriously, I am more concerned that Mr. Manning seems to harbor some hope that he CAN return to the sport.  My suggestion is that his doctors run some more tests to determine if he has suffered a head injury, because, to me, it sounds like he has had a possible concussion.
4.  This observation forces me to return back to my favorite news show "The National" again.  Why can't the stories that are reported on our local and national shows include more global events, instead of featuring all the stories about celebrity mishaps or showing the same weather report, over and over?  Because the Canadian show does not pander to such tabloid-style reporting, or the need to create a heightened state of anxiety about a dusting of snow, they have time to provide complete coverage, on stories of real significance, that are not limited to just a moment in which to tell them.  As the stories unfold slowly, the viewer is provided with considerable information, with which to draw a conclusion from, rather than on a catchy sound-bite designed to attract viewers, regardless of if the information is misleading or not. 
5. And finally, why do so many companies have to repeatedly air commercials that I find so incredibly irritating?  In particular, I DETEST the commercial, during which individuals come across items on sale, and then scream at the very top of their lungs, in dismay.  Also, I do not like the commercial that suggests, no DEMANDS, that I discuss something that they say really matters, which is what goes on in the bathroom.  They have been sadly misinformed by their ad agency, because I definitely DO NOT need to discuss what goes on in the bathroom with them, and I will demonstrate this to them by NEVER, under any circumstances, buying their product.
That concludes the observations that I made, instead of getting ready for work, causing me to nearly be late again.  Obviously, they are of such importance that it would be unconscionable for my boss to penalize me, even if I were to arrive tardy. Since Andy Rooney is no longer with us, I feel it is my solemn obligation to follow in his footsteps and ask the hard questions about all the things I find annoying, and I will do my best to accomplish this while behaving like a cranky old curmudgeon.   I absolutely draw the line at ever letting my eyebrows get as bushy as his were though!!

My Preschool Littles

Working with children, as I have often said before, has been a blessing to me for many different reasons.  The children that occupy our classroom each day are at an age when the world still fills them with wonder, and seeing things through their eyes never fails to fill me with wonder, as well.  The first snowfall of the year or tree limbs dancing on a windy day captivate all of us, as we witness nature unfold through our classroom windows together.  I am present when the first feelings of empathy stir within them, as they notice another child who has suffered a bruised knee, or, perhaps, a bruised heart, and they offer some gesture of comfort or kindness, to make that child feel better.  I hear them laugh, as only children can, at anything they deem silly or amusing, during that carefree period of life still devoid of grown up worries or concerns.  And finally, I feel blessed by all the many wonderful things they say, honest and heartfelt, but, so oftentimes, hilarious. The nuances of language or notions of tactfulness have yet to be acquired, so their responses are often unexpected; but they are always delightful.
Just such an occurrence happened yesterday during "circle-time," a period at the beginning of the morning, during which time is set aside to share exciting news or interesting information.  To lend gravity to this important time of sharing, each child takes a turn speaking into our "magic microphone" to ensure that the thoughts that they offer are not interrupted.  (For those curious as to what a "magic microphone" looks like, it is a battery-operated reflector light on a stick, and it does absolutely nothing to alter the sound of one's voice, yet everybody, including myself, speaks directly into it as if it is magnifying the sound.)
A delightful little girl, with brown hair and soulful eyes, took the microphone and declared to all the classroom that she regularly attended baseball games with her daddy and her brother, and at them, she had a very fun time.
"That's wonderful!" Mrs. Theobald, the teacher I work with, responded, and then curious as to whether the child's father or brother was on a team, she added. "Who do you go see play?   Who is on the team?"
The child paused for a moment to consider the inquiry.  Then, after giving it some thought, she replied. "Baseball players....baseball players are on the team."
My favorite story of all though, involved my picture ID badge; one that is required to be worn by all the staff in our entire school district. At the time, many years ago when this practice was implemented, I was just returning to work following summer vacation.  In my photo, my skin is very dark from the many wonderful days I spent on the beach with my daughters in Port Sanilac, and my black hair is short and curly.  Each year the district updates our badges with the current school year emboldened on them, but unless you want a new photo taken the old one is used again and again.  Since that time, I have grown considerably paler and my hair is now past my shoulders with just a slight wave; in other words, I look nothing like my picture.
One of my littles, a boy about five years old, asked me to tie his shoe, and, as I did, he grabbed the badge that was hanging around my neck to examine the picture.
"What is this, Mrs. Valente?" he asked with a puzzled expression on his face.
"That is my ID badge," I told him, and then proceeded to explain the purpose of the badges.
"Were you a little girl then?" he asked.
Realizing that it wasn't the badge itself that he was curious about, but, rather, the reason why my appearance was now so different than it was in the photo, I explained, "No, I was a grown up, but back then my hair was short and now it is long...that is why I look different to you."
"But were you a little girl?"  he repeated, his puzzled and uncomprehending expression never changing.
"No." I reassured him again. "It was just a few years ago, but I was still a grown up."
Finally, a  look of understanding crossed his face, and he dropped the badge and returned to his play. I felt satisfied that my explanation had answered all his questions, and I also resumed what I had been doing previously.  Barely a moment had passed though, when he came back with another boy and asked me if he could show him my badge.  I complied, and waited to listen as he shared his new-found knowledge concerning ID badges and the reason why I looked so different from my photo.
Instead, he showed his friend the badge and began his sentence just as he had with me..."See, this is Mrs. Valente when she used to be.."  Much to my surprise though, he ended it in a completely different way than I had expected. He said, "See, this is Mrs. Valente when she used to be....Black!"
With littles, I have learned to always expect the unexpected! : D