Holiday Hrumph

Blech!
The holidays are coming and I am so NOT looking forward to the season. Instead of thinking of all of the fun to be had: Food, light shows, decorations, trips to malls, all I can think of is all of the crap that I have to do: Food, lights, decorations, trips to the mall.

Golly I sound like a Scrooge! But this is the way I feel. I guess I should be thankful; this time last year my mom was hospitalized and we all didn't know whether she would make it or not. Almost fully recovered, this year she wants to celebrate Christmas in ways that only Fagg women can: big, loud and over the top. She wanted to celebrate 25 days of Christmas. I compromised and decided that I can do 12 with good will. Personally I am waiting for the merry land of January 3rd to be here so that things can go back to normal but instead will make this work.

Anyhoodledoodle, the more I think about ways to celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas, the more fun I started to have. In the beginning I was looking at the financial part: my money has been funny lately and it's a downer to have to stick to a budget! I know many a person does it but I fully admit that when I was married I gladly handed financial matters to the ex and went on my way. Now that I have to make and stick to a budget, I am feeling the crushing weight of responsibility and I am unable to do the prescribed therapy (retail). But instead of bemoaning what I DO NOT have, I decided to look at things that I am able to work with.

Stay tuned for the countdown to the holidays!

Ho-ho-hoing
-r

Rachée runs like a couch potato. Mrs Potato Head to be exact

So.
This past Sunday was the day of the marathon and like the Philadelphia Eagles during every major drive when scoring is essential, I dropped the ball. The ball is in this case was my dismal finish time.
Sigh!
I admit that I stopped training as hard and as much as I had been as the race date approached. The allure of a warm bed always took precedent over a wog, a jog and visits to the track. I let life get in the way: The Bee has school, I had to stay late at work, Mom needed me to do something. Truthfully I just didn't feel like it.

My half-assed training cost and did I pay the price! Sore shins, my left ankle is still tender, muscles screaming from the rooter to the tooter. Plus the matter of my wounded pride. Lapped by a man stooped to the side is NOT the story that I want told yet its my story.
Most people are so amazed that I was in a marathon (participate, my words as my dismal showing can hardly be called run) but I feel that I wasted their time and my 80 bucks.
Instead of turning this into a woe is me post, I will do as Fagg women always do: make light of my suckiness.

I kinda knew my day was going to be an uphill battle when I saw some of the other runners. These people had serious running gear on: belts and packs full of water bottles, gel packs, hand sanitizer and the like. There were women in little sports bras that showed off six pack abs and men with shorts that showed rippling thighs (well most men had he-man thighs; there were a few I wanted to loan my jacket to). My spirits were lifted when I saw some folk that looked like me; weekend warriors who were racing just 'cause. Instead of getting into my own head and giving the public a show, I cranked up some Missy Elliott and proceeded to freak out internally.

The first five miles were not so bad. I walked, wogged better than I ever have. Although I have found reasons not to lace up my sneakers, I am 82% sure that if I do enter a race again I will be able to compete a 5K without feeling like a hippo. I got emotional when I ran past Chestnut Street and was greeted by my sister who surprised me with a very loud "Go Missy!" If SHE, of the house of I Need a Newport and a coffee, was out there to cheer me on, how could I not do it?

My wog partner and I were caught up in a group that included kids from Students Run Philly Style. Dealing with the high schoolers that come into the library can be a challenge but these kids were great. One kid jogged by and high-fived everyone he passed on the street. His excitement was contagious. The other students were equally excited and, total aside, I am really going to make it my business to help this organization (The Bee will one day be a high school student in Philly and this is such a positive idea that she must a part of it!).

Vanilla Bean Gu is yum. The Expresso Gu was good but man oh man was that Vanilla Bean spot on. Of course this could have been because I had not eaten anything except for toast and by that time of day a dead rat may have seemed appetizing.

I have a new found respect for athletes. I am in no way agreeing with their million dollar salaries but after the wear and tear I put my body through in one day I could NOT imagine having to do that three four times each week.

Hand sanitizer is a must. I had to use a porta potty and Ewwww.

Every time I hit a water station and was offered water or Gatorade, all I could think about was the Waterboy: Gatorade! Gaaaatorade! Water sucks, it really, really sucks! I still dislike Gatorade.

When I hit the half way mark, I wanted to quit but didn't. I also called a walker who was headed towards the finish line a bunch of names in my head but since she didn't hear that doesn't count right?

People had a few gimmicks while they ran. While I choose to go as out of shape middle aged chick, there was an Elvis, a pair of statue of liberties, a juggler and Santa.

Since I know what to expect, the fool part of me is thinking that the half is for me. Next year, a new pair of sneakers or two and I'm in. The FA part of me is thinking, "No way sister!". As I've not gone out for a few days any chances of me actually doing anything but working on a stage two decubitis seem to be my plan for now.

Getting ready for a soak,
-r

Happy Halloween!

Halloween was a few weeks ago and the pickings were blah! There were not a lot of candy giving going on but the merry old land of November 1st yielded bags of half off loot from CVS.
Mmmm! M&M's!


The Bee and her Girl Scout Troop were invited to a Harvest Party where they could also help to get credit towards their badge work. I trailed along, offering my services as a volunteer as well as keeping an eye out for The Bee*.

It was a cute day!


The church (yeah, yeah!) had passports for the kids to fill out. The kids could then visit each of 10 stations to play games or do an activity. Then they could turn their passport in for a prize.

The Bee, as U.S. Diva! and Dill , in Boy Scout Uniform, had a ball! I trailed behind them trying not to be a helicopter mother as they moved from station to station.

Reporting for duty!

The stations included:

• a craft area where one could make a book and/or color pictures
• a cupcake decorating station
• face painting
• guess the candy corn
• ring toss
• and Mystery Boxes!

The Mystery Boxes was a cool station! Insert your hand in the box and guess what you are feeling! Noodles? Pine Cones? Grapes? What could it be?

Prizes included candy, balloons (?) and a cute little beanie baby that has been in my junky car for over a week.

That night, I let The Bee go out with the kids from my sister's block. The oldest kid was 12. While I tried to be cool (what exactly was I thinking?) she had a great time getting treats and trading for things that she knew she could eat (and she saved a Hershey's bar for me!).

Already with a costume in mind for next year (Michael Jackson) she is practicing The Moonwalk.
I, on the other hand, is still wondering who ate the last Reese's Cup!
Hunting for more,
-r

*Because I hate when there are family events at work and there are kids running around needing help with stuff.

The March of the Librarians

Last month was the annual PaLA Convention and I was fortunate enough to be able to attend, this time in my loverly state capital. I feel that I have come full circle in my time as a library type. No longer am I seized by the crushing fear that I will be singled out and asked to leave for masquerading as a library type nor do I get the feeling that I am playing. I feel confident enough to know what I am doing and to offer my two cents with a (somewhat) informed opinion.

Of course my trip would not have been complete without the obligatory getting lost. Although I had a printed map and one on my phone, I still managed to get lost on 83 which runs East and West and South and North.

Once I arrived, checked in and carted the huge bag of crap that I packed, I realized that I was without Lysol, a no-no especially after having watched one too many episodes of Dateline. Again, getting lost, I finally found the Harrisburg not in brochures and was extorted out 5.25 for a small can. I saw the capitol building that night. It was lovely the first two times but times 3-7 lost its appeal.

I overslept the next day so I missed the pre-conference which was about intergenerational program. I wasn't quite as sorry as I should have been; when my grandmother comes to visit there are four generations of Fagg women under one roof and well, hilarity ensues. The rest of the conference was great from there!

I caught up with my buddy Karl, a guy that I met at last year's conference and we hung out together. He is just as snarky, if not more, as I! We giggled and goofed and learned through most of the sessions.

In between sessions

Highlights:
I met Jennifer 8 Lee and now have a new appreciation for Chinese food..
I met Maureen Wright who has surpassed Karma Wilson as my favorite picture book author featuring a bear
I ran into people I had met at conferences past and they remembered me (Eep!) and we chatted about stuff and I felt like I knew what I was talking about (Double Eep!)




My next project

I had a Lucy moment when I knocked over a pitcher of water (real smooth!) but no worries I was able to recover and bounce back.

Of course I found a library and checked out some things to listen to for the ride home!

I didn't load up on swag (really, how many sticky pads and pens do I need?) but found that I got tons of great ideas as well as the courage to pursue some of my own ideas (videos blogging, coming soon!)

All in all, a great time to be had. Although I was so glad to be back in my bed!

Working on program ideas,

-r

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNothing but N

It's Novemberrrr and the first storytime for the month was all about the letter N. I borrowed the idea of a letter themed storytime from a blog and loves, loves, loves it! The letter themed storytime is so much fun! Using this a starting point I am not strictly married to one theme, and can use this as excuse to revisit old books, introduce new titles and just find books, subjects, authors and more all about each letter of the alphabet!


Books read:
Mommy Doesn't Know my Name by Suzanne Williams, Illustrated by Andrew Shachat
The Nightmare in My Closet written and illustrated by Mercer Mayer
The Napping House by Audrey Wood, Illustrated by Don Wood
The Noisemakers by Judith Casely


FIngerplays:
Shaking Your Shaker : to make Noise and we made lots of it using maracas, a tambourine and other homemade instruments


Craft:
Newspaper Hats

Storytime starts as usual:

Housekeeping:

Introduction and the rules.

What to expect, Welcome
-Introduction (for new and old storytime friends)
-Housekeeping
1: Where the B-A-T-H-R-O-O-M is. Bathroom is always spelled out as little bladders seem to get full upon mention of a toilet!
2. What to expect. If a child doesn't want to sit still for storytime it's OK, I just ask that they keep my story area clear.
3. My expectations (hey, if it's not fun for everybody, including me then its not really fun!)

Warm-up:
I encourage every one to participate with the warm up, parents and children alike.


*Reach for the ceiling
Reach for the Ceiling"

Reach for the ceiling,
Touch the floor,
Stand up again,
Let's do some more.

Touch your head,
Touch your knee,
Up to your shoulders,
Like this, you see?

Reach for the ceiling,
Touch the floor,
That's all for now,
There is no more.



*I Clap My Hands
I Clap My Hands

I clap my hands clap hands
I touch my feet touch feet
I jump up from the ground. jump up


I clap my hands clap hands
I touch my feet touch feet
I turn myself around. turn around


I clap my hands clap hands
I touch my feet touch feet
I sit myself right down. sit down


I clap my hands clap hands
I touch my feet touch feet
I do not make a sound. sit quietly
Shhh!

The stories then begin!

Today I shared stories about my multiple names with the kids before we read Mommy Doesn't Know my Name.. Although my name is Rachée, my mom calls me Missy, Mit, Mitala and a plethora of other things that is NOT Rachée!

Instruments were passed out to Shake our Shakers and we made lots of NOISE! After the instruments were collected, we read The Napping House and acted out parts of the book. There were lots of enthusiastic snoring for the grandmother, meows for the cat and barks for the dog!

To calm the crowd before beginning our next book we did our wiggler:

*Touch your Nose
Touch your nose, touch your chin,
That’s the way this game begins.
Touch your eyes, touch your knees,
Now pretend you're going to sneeze (Achoo!)

Touch your hair, touch one hips,
Touch your two little lips (Swak!)
Touch your elbows where they bend,
That’s the way this touch game ends.

After this, bean bags were passed out and we read The Nightmare in My Closet. Full disclosure; I did a bit of censoring and substituted "get" for shot (the little boy in the book shoots the nightmare in an effort to get rid of him once and for all).

Because, 1) I don't have 20 guns and 2) I think that the library should be a safe place, bean bags were passed out to shake at the monster to get rid of it.

We closed with our final rhyme:

Two little hands go clap, clap, clap
Two little arms lie in my lap
Two little feet go bump, bump, bump
Two little legs give one big jump
Two little hands reach oh so high
Two little hands wave bye, bye, bye

Afterwards we made paper hats (so wonderful in its simplicity that I cannot believe I have not made them before!?!?)

Loads of fun a great way to cure the Thursday Blahs!

-r

Me and a library friend modeling our hats

*Her* Tooth is loose!

The frantic call came few Mondays ago as I prepared for a circle time: "The Bee fell at school during gym and chipped her front tooth! Can you call her dentist, I don't know the number." Annoyed with her dad (why don't dads EVER know the number to anything) I pushed that aside to ask if she were OK. He assured me but also hung up so that I could call the school and speak to someone for myself. After speaking with the assistant I was reassured especially after I was told The bee was back in gym class and heading back to class.

Frantic myself, I harassed called our dentist until I got a live person and quickly made plans to have her examined.

Now that my pulse has stopped racing, and my head is no longer afire, I can look back and let out the deep breath that I was holding. I hate to admit it but I am a bit of a smilist. I like looking at her lovely teeth and knowing that
No worries, that Friday we saw our fabulous dentist who has repaired the tooth so that it looks like new. I was worried for nothing, she is looking like her old self and new sneakers have been purchased.

Whew!

Walking slowly,

-The Bee

Talkin' 'bout Good or Bad Hair!

So last night I went to see Chris Rock's docu-dramadey Good Hair. This is not a new subject for me; hair talk has been and is a 'thing' that just is. Everybody's got their something and for scores of Black Women, including yours truly, that something is hair. For those not in the know, Good Hair was born from Chris Rock's beautiful daughter wondering why she doesn't have good hair. Again for those not in the know, good hair is defined as hair that is NOT nappy and kinky, knotty and will not frizz or draw up if wet.

The whole Good Hair/Bad Hair debate has been going on long before me and will probably continue long after. Good hair/Bad Hair has taken on may lives and persona's. Good Hair is a term that I have heard from many a mouth when waxing cosmetically about someone's long flowing, not needing a relaxer hair, a term that neo soul types are trying to adopt to promote natural hair dos and locs and its a term I've heard kids utter as they bust on each other or try to hook up with so and so (yes, it's still 2009).

As a kid growing up in the late 70's and early 80's I too was taken on a Magellan like quest to find the next best thing to get, and keep, my hair straight and hopefully soft and silkily flowing down my back. Solid Gold was the big show at the time and I used to love one of the dancer's, Darcell, hair. Although its akin to treason, I will fully admit that I would have gladly given my left arm and two fingers from my right hand to have hair that didn't have to be straightened, relaxed, could get wet. My mom, aunt and grandmother had similar wishes for my sister's and my hair as well as for their own. Faithful worshippers at the temple of Miss Clairol and Revlon it seemed like a chemistry lab every few weeks in our house. Despite this, my grandmother would always bemoan our nappy hair, hair that had somehow gotten nappy and kinky through a genetics disorder of our father.

With The Bee I am just as guilty even if I don't say the words. When she gets her hair done sometimes she gets a ponytail, extensions and other styles that flow softly down her back or drape over one shoulder. I've encouraged her to loc but I don't force it. She has been just getting her own hair braided and has been pleased with the results. I have caught her yanking at the ends of her braids wishing they were ALL the way down her back.

Sigh!

What is it about Hair that causes such a tizzy?

Back to the movie in no particular order:

The women, celebrities mainly, who were interviewed were honest, unapologetic and forth coming about wearing a weave and what they do for their hair. They didn't judge, make excuses or over explain, they said their piece and were confident about it.

There was one scene talking to high school aged young ladies about hair and of the five, one worked a small natural. When asked about their appearance in the 'real world' the girls all called the natural sis out and told her that they would probably not think she was able to handle herself in a professional arena because of the way she looked. Honestly, while I love a natural do, she did look a little disheveled. Natural hair takes work too now!

I cannot believe people pay thousands of dollars for hair! One of the reasons that I loc is because I couldn't stand to part with the money and time required to keep my hair up. Wow! One place charges up to $3500 for a weave. A weave! That better be hella good and in my head for a few months!

There was a four year old getting a relaxer. FOUR! What does it say about our culture when we will put chemicals on a kid's hair so that she can be 'pretty'? Chemicals that can give you a chemical burn (have you seen The Dark Knight? Two Face anyone?)

Derek J. The boots. 'nuff said.

Jason, the blonde wiry white guy who is one of the best hair stylists in Atlanta.

The whole way hair is acquired. In India people do Tonsure and sacrifice their hair in a ceremony called Tonsure and the hair is shaved off OR an unsuspecting woman has her hair cut off while sleeping or not paying attention. Dang!

There is a whole underlying skin color thing that was not addressed but maybe taking a light approach with hair will be the place where we can open up to the next place. It seems to have made my friends from other cultures a little more aware of why I freak when they walk up to me and try to play in my hair, why I bitch and moan about washing my hair and how it is that today I have short hair and tomorrow its long. In the tradition of always wanting what you can't have, the same hair that I have fussed about for years is not the object of admiration from some who like to give me a shout with, "Hey Sis, I like your locs (or dreads or dreadlocks or, you get the picture).

India.Arie said it best: I am not my hair and let's let her end it:

*it's with weaves, not the 1000$ ones from the movie but their poorer yaki relations

How do you read?

A few months back a friend of mine invited me to become a part of a book club. Honored, she considers me a professional (!) and she is using the results of the meetings as part of a project for her pHD, I was also selfishly excited to have adult books to read. Dutifully I have been reading the assigned books making mental, sometimes a written note or two about something that I think I want to discuss and remember. Last meeting VJ threw out the idea of journals to record our reactions to what we are reading.

What a novel concept! How often have I read something and thought that I would like to share it with someone yet moments later I have forgotten that great line, that wonderful bit or that funny quote that made me appreciate the English language oh so much?


Journaling as I read was something that I have oft heard of but never personally experienced. While I love reading, I have often thought making notes in books was something reserved for my text books or work, not to extend the enjoyment that I have when I am reading something on my own. During one of my forays into college that I encountered a classmate who got ALL his money worth out of text books. This dude truly got his money's worth! His text books would be underlined in pens of different colors, the margins written in, reactions to the book, the author, questions asked in class. I was always amazed at the brazen way he ignored that he may not get as much money back from the bookstore at semester's end and went after his books with all he had.

I gave it a go. I tried it but never quite got the hang of the book (my procrastination probably had something to do with that but, ya know!). Through the years I have attempted to react to my books as opposed to just read them. I always feel pretentious, thoughts of who may use the book after me would color what I wrote and it felt like a chore. To use a tired phrase, I've seemed to mellow with age and now I am all excited about what a book says to me, makes me feel, changes something that I was sure of. It's eye opening.

The Bee has also been encouraged to keep a journal although her pages are filled with fashions that she thinks she would like to design one day. I also found stories in which the main characters are mermaids or fairies. Oh well. At least the books are not going to waste.

I can't wait to get back to my book. I finally, finally can appreciate this quote used by Cornelia Funke in Inkheart (which is excellent - the book, not the movie):
Some books should be tasted, some devoured but only a few should be chewed and thoroughly digested.

Getting ready to read,
-r