The Great and Powerful Oz

"Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" --the Wizard of Oz

Ah, the lessons we can learn from the Wizard of Oz.   Like, flying monkeys and evil green witches are a freak of nature and very scary to small children.  And that we all need hearts, brains, and courage, but sometimes they don't mean what we think they mean, and when we discover their truths, we realize we already possess them.  And most importantly, we learn from Dorothy that we always have the power within us to accomplish what we need, whether it is overcoming adversity or simply going home again.

And the poor Wizard.  Now, there's a man with issues.  He has the illusion of power, but his reality is encased in smoke and mirrors.  And a pretty dad-gum good sound system for a balloon-flying magician, but I digress. 

Have you ever known a Wizard?  The person who projects the image of having it all, and actually knowing where it is, and knowing how to use it? Maybe it's one of the moms in your child's class who works, irons her kids clothes, makes them lunches, and still provides the best loved snacks for the classroom parties.  Or maybe it's someone you work with who puts in their 60+hours a week, donates time to their favorite charity, makes it to all their childrens' sports and music events, gets the promotion, and never gains weight.  Wizards can be downright annoying that way.

Here's my theory: I think most Wizards are like the one in Oz: they look like they have it all together, but they are still hiding something behind a curtain, and it's going to be discovered when someone unexpected rips the curtain back.  Maybe it is a hidden pain, a wounded heart, or an insecurity. Maybe the Wizard act serves some perfectionistic tendency; maybe most wizards are afraid if they aren't perfect, no one will love them. But like the Wizard in the movie we love so much, the truth to be found for our wizarding friends is that the very imperfections they try so hard to hide are where wizardy wisdom begins.  Perfection is an illusion; smoke and mirrors, leading to a giant, disembodied head.  The best lessons in life are in our stumblings and failings, and a true wizard is one who passes those lessons on to others.

So, to quote the Wizard again, I offer to all my fellow wizards, trembling behind their curtains:
"Oh, but I'm a very good man!  I'm just a very bad wizard!"  --the Wizard of Oz

Twas the night before...the first day of school

Once upon a time, I didn't wake up at 2 am worrying about the first day of school.  But that's when I was the one in school, not my child. 

When I was in college, I was given a nickname, based on a theme of Disney characters.  My understanding is that there was a fight between those who wanted Princess Jasmine and Big Mama, but the emotional characteristics of Big Mama won, even if the physical characteristics were in Jasmine-land.  Big Mama, for those of you non-Disney folk, is the owl who finds Tod a home after he is orphaned in The Fox and the Hound. 
Big Mama took care of everybody, and sheltered those she loved under her wing.  Big Mama also had a strong sense of the way of things.  She tried to take care of the emotional needs as well as the physical needs with sayings such as, "Darlin', forever is a long, long  time, and time has a way of changing things."

I charge head-first into the fray when I am protecting my young.  I am learning to think first, but I still find myself with my wings wrapped around the munchkin, shielding him from the very things my mind knows he has to deal with on his own to be strong.  I hurt for the process he goes through, and I want to hug him and hold him and make it better.  Unfortunately, he isn't a toddler anymore, and hugs and kisses seem to do less and less as he takes his steps toward independence.  The munchkin has had a rough time at school the past couple years.  I so want this year to be better for him.

I took this picture this afternoon, and hope if he can rest so sweetly with the puppy, he has the inner strength to do more than even I can imagine.  Sweet dreams, love.

First day of school: Zoo-Wee-Mama!

Hello!  Welcome to the Brainstorm!  Home of Jack-of-all-Trades! Out-there ideas! Moments of brilliance, laughter, and snarkitude!! And occasionally, deeply rooted soul searching.

Ever wonder what would happen if you just started talking...and people started listening, and then it became a conversation?  I invite you into my musings - let's create together.

For anyone with school age children, you know the "beginning of the school year" panic that sets in this time of year.  Will the new teacher understand that little Johnny has to have his pencils in a completely separate box from his markers and crayons?  Will the new teacher mind that Janie refers to herself in the third person as "Janie, The Princess Elect?"  Will Jack be in the same class as his best friend who he feels the need to have a running commentary with all day, henceforth many visits to Senora Principal?  And that doesn't even start on school clothes, the latest Nikes, the right backpack, bag or buy lunch dilemmas, and the riding, walking, biking, or dropping conversations.

Now, I remember the first day of school many times over.  I remember deciding where to sit, and who to walk with, and where to sit for lunch.  What I want to know is when the heck did this all become mandated in elementary school?  My son and I watched "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" this weekend, and I laughed at the fun and antics of this poor new middle school student trying to navigate the maze of a new environment.
Little did I know that my child would decide he could only carry his backpack on one shoulder due to the cool factor, or that "zoo-wee-mama!" would become a frequently uttered exclamation in our home.  The thing that resonated with me the most was all the decisions a kid has to make!  Yet, our school systems now mandate who sits where, and not just in the classroom, but in lunch as well. No wonder middle school is so terrifying.  It was amazing to me that my son identified with the topics so well, and that the things we remember from middle school are now a part of elementary school.  And we wonder why our kids grow up so fast.

I remember thinking a new year was a whole fresh start.  After all, isn't that why we set New Year's Resolutions?  So, to start my child's new year off right, I henceforth resolve never to be the mom who:

• hollers across the room about wayward zippers, 
• cleanses anything off my child with "mom-juice" (aka, spit), 
• forces my child to participate in anything by speaking about him in the third person as if he isn't there,
• and participates in a parent talent show, unless my child actually thinks I have talent.

Whew.  I feel better already. Do you have a funny parent/first day of school type story to share?  post a comment!