Back-to-school anxiety

My daughter always looks forward to the new school year.

Who will be in my class?
Can't wait to make new friends!
Will the teacher be nice?
Can't wait to join choir, band, battle books, etc.
What will I wear?

But this year she wasn't as excited. Two girls who last year gave her trouble — both turning in physical altercations — are in her class. Even other moms could see the anxiety all over her face.

We tried to encourage her: It's a new year. Hopefully that's in the past. Try to be nice and send off positive energy. Just ignore them if they are mean. Tell an adult if the issue escalates. ... Our words didn't matter. She was STRESSED!

Her body language continued to exude anxiety and fear. It caused me and my husband heartache. We love our happy child. This was atypical behavior.

My husband and I discussed whether bringing up past issues when nothing has happened this year would be the right thing to do. I'll keep all the reasons to myself. But as everything in life, you have to pick your battles.

Day 2 of the school year, and all seems good. But I insisted we had say something anyway. It was a good decision, I think. We love that our daughter's teacher took our concern seriously and reassured our daughter.

As we left, our daughter told us how happy she was that we said something. We reminded her that when problems seem too big to handle that she should ask for help.

Tonight our daughter seemed excited about heading to Day 3. Here's hoping the year will be a good one.

Cheers!

Donating hair for a good cause

I love my daughter. I hope that I'm raising her to be a caring young woman who gives back to her community and people in need. So far she isn't disappointing me.

Today we went to the salon to donate 10 inches of hair to Locks of Love. She knew it would be shorter than the last time she made a hair donation. Then her hair was REALLY long.

We thought that first donation — just short of 12 inches — would be her only one. She had a few haircuts after, and then late last year she decided she was ready for a second donation. She's been talking about it all year, questioning the trims to keep her hair healthy and asking me to measure it regularly.

When I asked her why the donation meant so much, she said: "I just really want to help kids with greater needs than ours." She also said she'd love it if some girl cared enough to donate hair for her if it ever became medically necessary. My heart melted.

As we drove to the salon, my husband and I continued to compliment her choice. We're so proud that she's so giving at a young age.

She's sporting a cropped angled bob perfect for our harsh Arizona summers, and already talking about donation No. 3. If only I had so much heart when I was her age.

Cheers!


P.S. Thanks to her stylist at Dolce Salon & Spa in Chandler, which provides complimentary cuts to clients who donate at least 10 inches of hair to Locks of Love. They take care of the shipping, too. We just make sure to leave a tip.

Dinner time, quality time

As a working mom (for now), time is precious.

I'm exhausted as soon as I walk in the door. And that's when the home chaos begins.

Both kids need attention. There's dinner to make (at least my husband helps A LOT!) and homework to check. And someone, usually my daughter, wants to hang out and talk. This is a good thing on many levels, but honestly sometimes I want to check out and recharge.

For now, I double up duties. Dinner is great for spending time with my kids. I don't mean just eating at the table and talking about our days. I'm using the time making dinner to be with my kids.

Both my angels love to cook, and they are old enough to help without the worry of little fingers touching a hot stove or knocking over boiling water. So now, I'm showing my daughter how to make my broccoli salad while talking about how to handle a mean girl. Or I'm supervising my son making chicken ravioli with my combo marinara/alfredo sauce while I get him to talk about anything. Teens!

I've heard friends say they've always had their kiddie help in the kitchen. I just couldn't when they were little. It added to my stress. I worried about injuries (well, I still don't like them cutting with big knives) and extra messes. Now, not so much.

They've always had input on the foods we eat. Now I'm thinking they are ready to make dinner on Friday nights. We'll still talk about their friends and stresses. But at least I'll be sitting down...or hope to be. I'll share how that goes...soon.

Cheers!

Getting to know your child's teacher

The anxiety started weeks ago when I received the email with my daughter's supply list. Teacher's name was on top of the list. And my daughter's questions began:

What if she doesn't like me?
What if she's mean/too strict/no fun?
What if she doesn't think that I'm smart?
What if, what if, what if...

I have a whole different set of questions.

Quick dinner tips No. 1 & 2

I'm not a perfect mom. Never will be, but I don't aspire to be perfect. Just a good mom who has time for her kids.

As a journalist, I've never had a 9-to-5 job. Early days, late nights, weekends...they happen.
 
To make the most of my precious time with my family, I must find ways to be efficient. At dinner, my time-saving helper is my cell phone.

No space for bargains

I can't pass up a bargain. I love, love, love paying $20 for sandals that were $80 when the "season" began.  If they aren't too trendy, then it's likely I'll have them for a while. So it's no surprise that I have too many shoes in my closet.

Big-dollar savings make me swoon: 75 percent off shorts, 50 percent off purses, 80 percent off T-shirts...It makes me forget what I need to do and start my hunt. Can I find my size? What will the kids be wearing next year? Yes, I need roller blades (discounted 50 percent) because I will exercise come fall when the temps are much less intense.

Add those fun little discounts, such as $10 off a $25 purchase or 10 percent off your entire purchase, and I feel as though I HAVE to buy whatever I covet for the day. This is why I keep these coupons in my purse, JUST in case.