Where's My Oscar?

America (and the world) watched the Oscar's this past Sunday and people were celebrated for their talents in the area of film. As I watched, it got me thinking about a few things.  Without comparing or putting down what artists do in Hollywood, because I do see the impact films have in the lives of people, I began to ponder my own life. 

• I am thirty-eight years old. 
• I have no retirement,
• no medical benefits through my job,
• and make less than $25,000/year after 15 years job experience and a Bachelor's Degree. 

I'm not sharing my stats with you so you will feel sorry for me and take up a collection or GoFundMe page.  I am sharing because in truth,

                                                              I deserve an Oscar. 

Even if we boomerang back to the film industry

    there are more unsung heroes than Oscar-winning victors. 

For every award that is given, there are hundreds, and probably even closer to a thousand movies that don't get any award.  In January 2016 alone, there were a total of 161 movies released.  (I really wanted to count them all for 2016, but January took long enough :)). 

I am not an actress, so I will never get an Oscar.  The point I am making is the life work I do day in and day out is award-winning worthy.  I don't always see the fruit of my labor, but

pouring into the lives of people and more specifically, teenagers, is an important job. 

I love (almost) every minute of it, and definitely wouldn't trade the years I have behind me for anything, but at the end of the day, I will never receive an award at any kind of ceremony, much less, Oscar status. Please hear me when I say, never getting an award is just fine with me!  My friend, Tracy, hit the nail on the head with a recent Facebook post about her job working with kids and teens:

I live in that boat with her.  Every once in awhile, I get a card of thanks or get to hear the impact my contribution made in someone's life and its worth it.  Lives being enriched far outweighs any paycheck or award.   Thankfully, as great as those Oscar's are, they aren't the indicator of human value, because if they were than only a few people would matter and the work they do and I believe EVERY LIFE MATTERS! 

I don't know who is reading this.  Maybe you feel like an unsung hero and if you do please hear me say, "Stay the course!"  The work you do matters (unless you are a terrorist or serial killer, then PLEASE STOP)! Maybe you have a hero in your life, that needs some encouragement from you.  Either way, you have your place in this life and what you do is important even if no one ever communicates that to you. 

My Momtastrophy Of A Morning

This morning I lost it.  I mean ugly tears cascading down my face for issues of little consequence, yet in those moments my world was over.  Okay, so my world wasn’t over, but my reaction to issue ratio would warrant that sentence.   It was just a normal day that I turned into my very own momtastrophy.  Thanksgiving is this week and my son’s school is in session for the first two days of the week.  Today, Monday, was a special class treat.  They would have a Thanksgiving Feast and it was going to be epic.  Today they would dress like pilgrims to use their pilgrim hat and tomorrow is Indian day.  Kids were asked if possible to wear black pants and a black or white top.  Simple.  

I turned simple into stressful.  The outfit I had picked, turned out to have a ton of flaws.  The shirt needed to be ironed (I don’t iron, unless absolutely necessary), his jacket had a rip in the sleeve, both shirt and jacket were looking too small and his pants were flooding him as they were too big.  I looked through his closet finding patterns and grays, but no other clothes that fit exact specifications.  Meanwhile, Katie is trying to wrangle LeighAshley who is running all over the house refusing to cooperate with any request given to her.  We were running out of time and were trying to get out to make it to the bus stop in time.  

I tried to steam the shirt with no luck, then quickly stitched the whole in the jacket, but managed to sew the lining in such a way that made it hard to put on so I had to pull out the stitches and go again.  The clock was ticking.  I glanced at the clock and the bus stop option was out.  We now had to race to get to school on time.  I managed to get dressed enough to get out of the house but was trying to get all the school necessities together and do Caleb’s hair.  There was yelling from the other room as Katie was exasperated by LeighAshley and at times my voice joined the “let’s just get out of here” choir.  It was spiraling out of control fast.  I had lost it.  We got in the car and as we drove down the road I heard my little girl ask, “Mommy, ok?” She was responding to my tears.  “Yes, Mommy is ok.”  I told my boy he looked handsome and gave him kisses telling him I’d be there for the fun in a few hours.  As he jumped from the car, I just began to cry even more.  LeighAshley and I repeated our early dialogue many times between the school and home.  I was a wreck and honestly I didn’t know why. 

Fast-forward two hours and I rolled into the school ready to join my son.  I look around at kids in an array of outfits, most of which weren’t the strict guidelines that had taken over in my head.  Lots of jeans with black shirts, oatmeal colored sweaters, one even in a neon sweatsuit and I realized, I had lost my ever loving mind!!! Why? Why had I made something so simple and unimportant the King of my morning.  How had I let this consume me to the level of receiving a First Class trip on the crazy train?  

The fun started with cookie decorating then onto games and crafts.  My son sat working on his turkey craft and sang a song about majoring in the minors and my heart sank inside my chest.  I looked at him and said, “Sweetie, that is what mom did this morning, can you forgive me?”  He was quick to hug me and was definitely fine with moving on.  We had a great time, and I have a sweet memory with my son, his class, teachers and other parents from the day.  It was epic. 

There is a lesson here.  I am a prime example of how we as moms can make a mountain out of a mole hill.  Where do the priorities go when our hair is on fire and we are running around in an undefinable stream of insanity?  

What matters most?  I want my kids to feel loved and special.  I want them to know what matters most is who they are and how they treat people, not what outfit they are wearing.  The funny thing was, all that stress, and I had a handful of compliments on his jacket.  You know the one he was growing out of with a hole in the sleeve.  Geez!  Reality check party of one, and yet, I’d venture to say, I am not alone in this boat.  Stop and ask, is what I am freaking out about - inwardly or outwardly - a major or minor issue?  If its minor, let it go, we have far too many major issues to worry about!  Let me be your lesson for the day.  

Happy Thanksgiving!