The Necessities

There are a few mandatory items that a Princess has to have in order to survive her new braces.

In other Palace news: The new Apple computer has arrived. In view of the fact that neither The King nor I know anything about the Mac world, we are remedially switching our stuff.

And The King is under the weather. Which makes for a really fun time of learning something new. With The Princess reminding us how her teeth feel every 48 seconds or so.

So I will probably spend the majority of the day in my closet.

Because we've got another "ice storm".

Oh, and Happy Birthday, Dad. My calendar has only chirped every 10 minutes reminding me that it's your birthday. I wonder why...

Nothing Says It's Christmas Break Like Getting Teeth Ripped From Your Head

Being the great mom that I am, I scheduled The Princess a little teeth extraction for the first day of Christmas break.

Back in October, we were informed of the possibility of orthodontia. We made the appointment and the orthodontist said he hardly ever puts braces on 10-year-olds. Except for when they have a problem that will get worse if they wait.

Surprise, surprise...

The Princess has a gargantuan permanent back tooth that is stuck up in her head. It is the size of 3 of her baby teeth. If we don't make room for it, some horrible thing that I don't remember might happen. So, we have to pull 2 baby teeth and get the braces on pronto.

Oh, and spend $6000.

Now, follow my logic: if we pull them on the first day of her break, she won't have to dread it the rest of the break. It will be behind her. Right?

You might recall from her last appointment, she really didn't like the "squirt" (the one with the needle). We prayed about it. We talked to anyone who might listen at the dentist's office about it. You know what? The squirt was no big deal. She sailed right through it.

However.

Pulling 2 teeth that ARE NOT LOOSE from the head of a child is pretty close to torture. Forget that waterboarding stuff...pull the bad guys' teeth.

Bless her little heart, she was shaking in the chair sobbing. Sobbing. I had to sit on my hands so that I wouldn't rip the torture device from the dentist's hand.

Let me just show you the immovable beasts that were trapped in my sweet child's noggin...

Look at these babies!! I mean that literally. They are baby teeth!!

You can thank me later for the grayscale. I am sparing you from gore that might otherwise ruin your day.


She bled for 2 hours. She was not able to eat. She has holes the size of dimes in her mouth.

The only thing that she thought might possibly make her feel better was a manicure. (Actually a manicure/pedicure, but I had to draw the line.)

The Princess would like for you all to see the results.

What do you think the cure-all for her braces will be?

Tune in on January 21, 2008...

The School of Togetherness

I appreciate the sympathy passed my way for the agony of the train ride. It was much deserved, I must say.

A few of you wanted to know more about the school which The Princess attends. If you were just being nice...sorry.

The Princess is in the 4th grade at a University Model School in our area. This is our second year at this school. It is the school's fourth year. Our school currently goes through the 8th grade, but they are adding a grade each year so that class will graduate from the school.

Basically, a UMS is a school that blends the best of traditional school, homeschooling and Christian school. Students attend class at the school's campus on Tuesdays and Thursdays. A syllabus is sent home each Tuesday explaining what the assignments are for the week. Their work is done at home on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

The curriculum is challenging. To me. Pretty much what I'm saying is she studies Latin and I am lost. I am not necessarily responsible for "teaching" her. There are a few subjects (spelling, vocabulary, handwriting) that are done primarily at home, but I have a teacher's key and it has not been difficult so far. (Yep. I've got 4th grade knocked out...) I do love knowing exactly what she is learning. I know her strengths and struggles so much better than I did before.

An added bonus is that our school is able to teach the kids at each one's individual level. For example, The Princess is in the 4th grade and is in 4th grade math. Several students in her class go to 3rd grade math and some 5th graders come to her class for math. Students could also go up a grade for a subject if necessary.

One goal of a UMS is to teach children independent learning--the ability to read a syllabus and complete their assignment. Now, let's not think crazy thoughts like The Princess sits in a room and comes out for bread and water. She usually sits at the kitchen table and screams for help every 7 minutes.

Once the students are older, they begin incorporating Monday, Wednesday, Friday classes. Then it is structured as a university schedule (hence the name) and students that have graduated from a UMS have said that college is a breeze.

Our school is a "real" school. There are real diplomas and they take real tests. I only had to tell the grandparents that 542 times.

Another goal of a UMS is to give time back to the family. Our evenings are always open. She never has school work in the evenings. We try really hard to have a hideous Friday so that our Mondays are easy. The King tries to be home on Mondays so that we are able to have a teensy bit of family togetherness. Until someone gets mad because nobody puts their dishes up or picks up after themselves.

Though academics is incredibly important to our school, the ultimate goal is shaping the students' character. It is so much easier to do when the school and the parents are partnered for the same purpose. I love when The Princess comes home asking us to pray for her teacher or her classmate because they've shared a need. I love that the students pray before their tests.

It has been a transition for us. The Princess attended public school through the 2nd grade. I loved our local school. However, she began coming home in the 2nd grade asking whether or not she was a virgin. Not so good.

I had always been a little envious of my homeschooling friends. I loved the idea of teaching her at home. Since The Princess is the only star in this show, though, I didn't think it would be in her best interest.

The UMS has been such a blessing. We are certainly taking it year by year, but we have been very thankful to be a part of such a wonderful environment to this point.

Thanks for asking about it. This is probably way more than you wanted. The UMS website has lots of info about where the schools are located and even which areas have shown an interest in beginning a UMS. If you have any other questions, just ask...unless you are scared I'll answer!!

A Train Bound for Nowhere

The Princess had a field trip on Monday to The Polar Express Christmas Train Ride.

Our local train station offers a holiday train ride on an antique passenger train that boasts of hot cocoa and a reading of The Polar Express. Kids are encouraged to wear their pajamas. This particular train generally travels about 90 miles round trip.

Students that had signed up for the excursion were supposed to meet at the depot at 8:15 to board the train.

(The Princess attends a University Model School, which holds classes at their campus on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and students do their work at home on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. That is why we are meeting there. Her school is another post for another day.)

Let me add that it is freezing cold Monday morning and snow/sleet is falling. We board the train about 8:30. The train is absolutely beautiful. The seats are green velvet. It is so cool. However, due to the antiquity of the train, there is no heat.

So, we wait to get going. And wait. And...we wait. The conductor (?) comes over the intercom and says we will be hooking up to another car and there may be a loud bang. 50 kids immediately cover their ears in terror.

"Loud Bang" is probably not the best use of the language for the children.

We wait about 10 minutes for the "loud bang" which was not a loud bang--more like a startling jolt. And we wait. And...we wait. The conductor (?) comes over the intercom and says we will be hooking up to another car and there may be a loud bang. (This is not a brain rerun...it happend twice.)

At 9:45 we begin to hear the chuga chuga.

Let's review. We've been on a subzero train in pj's for one hour and fifteen minutes. With a lot of children. And their preschool aged siblings. For one hour and fifteen minutes. With no bathroom. For one hour and fifteen minutes. With the conductor's helper lady saying, "Kids, sit down we're about to leave" at least 37 times. For one hour and fifteen minutes. (One funny mom asked if maybe we should rename it The Lady Who Cried Wolf Christmas Train Ride.)

Is there a world record for how many times in one hour and fifteen minutes children can ask, "Moooommmmm, when are we gonna leave?"

Back to the chuga chuga.

My first clue to the length of the excursion should have been the fact that the hot (read: tepid) cocoa was passed out before we left the station. In cups that the school had to provide. One brave mom asked when we might be hearing The Polar Express story. The conductor's helper lady says, "Do you have the book?"

Um, no. We, um, paid for The Polar Express Christmas Train Ride. Crazy us. Expecting that they would have the book.

Instead, the conductor's helper lady asks if anyone would like to sing carols in the microphone. Well guess who volunteers?

The Princess. The Princess and her posse.

I've never heard The Twelve Days of Christmas sung quite like that. 17 times. (On the 15th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me... Webkinz in santa suits...)

We ride for about 12 minutes. And stop. For a little while. And start going back the way we came. 12 minutes later we are within sight of the depot. Unfortunately, a grain hauling train has dibs on the track and we must stop and wait. Within sight of the depot.

We are in the car and headed home by 10:45.

Nothing express about that polar train.

The Day That Will (and Did) Last Forever

Let me preface by saying that if you are indeed lucky enough to score once-in-a-lifetime tickets to The Hannah Montana Concert Event, and the tickets say “No Cameras Allowed”, they don’t actually mean that cameras are not allowed. And, after you’ve been honest and not tried to sneak your camera into the arena but then you see that every other mother has, in fact, brought her camera and is apparently not suffering any repercussions so you want to go to your car and retrieve your camera…you will not be allowed to re-enter the arena. This means, unfortunately, that you might be forced to use your husband’s Crackberry camera which reeks. So, your only daughter’s once-in-a-lifetime concert event is hopefully engraved in your memory. Because that is all you are truly left with.

There. I feel better.

I’m sorry that this will probably be kind of long. It was a loooonnng day.

A few days before we left, The Princess received an email from Miley Cyrus’ fan club (Which we had to join for $30, might I add, to try and get tickets early. Which we could not do because they were already sold out before any fan club member had a chance.) The email invited all fan club members to arrive at Miley’s bus 2 hours early for a meet and greet type of thing. We arrive 3 ½ hours early. This is the line. Remember, stinky Crackberry photos--you'll have to enlarge and hope for the best.

We were probably 200 people back. We wait for about 1 ½ hours. It is then announced that Miley won’t be coming out, but her grandmother will. Can’t you just imagine Miley’s poor grandma worried about all those girls standing in line waiting all day? Bless her. They gave all 15,000 girls one raffle ticket each for a chance to win a visit with Miley before the concert. The Princess felt that the odds fell greatly in our favor. Can you believe we didn't win? She couldn't.

Jump ahead to the concert. We had seats on the 6th row, but at the end of the row farthest away from the stage. They were terrific seats. (Thanks Queen Mother. For those of you wondering, I do not know and will not ask any details of how the Queen Mother obtained such fine seats. With QM, some things are better left unknown.)

Our first clue that it was going to be loud was that prior to the start of the concert, each time the curtain would jiggle, 15,000 girls would squeeeeaaaalllll at the top of their lungs. The air made them squeal.

Finally it was time for The Jonas Brothers to open the show. Now, I’ve been a fan of TJB. I think they are pretty cute. Well, all except for one. (I’m sorry. I know it is bad to say that. But it is true.) Now, however, I can tell you that I am only thinking one of them is cute. The one I have just rejected is Joe. He really thinks he is all that. Really. He would begin his songs by saying, “This one’s for the ladies.” Um, excuse me, Joe? The “ladies” are, like, 11. At one point, he unbuttoned a button on his shirt. Puh-lease. I was shaking with fits of laughter. Another time, he fell prostrate on the floor much to the delight of the swooning pre-teens. I got a little queasy.

TJB wore those gray jeans like boys did in the 80s that were reallyreallytight and were all scrunchy at the ankles. Not a good look. For them or anyone.

Finally, they left the stage (though they would return…often.)

Hannah performed for about 30 minutes and then Miley performed for another 30. It was really cute. Everything she did was so appropriate for the girls. Nothing trashy. She was not feeling well and I felt really bad for her. My maternal instinct kept kicking in and I wanted to tell her to go to bed. Her eyes were kind of glassy. I was impressed that she stuck it out.

The Princess shoved her way to the front. Occasionally, I would see her arm (I could spot her watch) pounding the air. I really had no idea that she was a rock star groupie. Well, I kind of did.

Last night, she told me that she just “dug through” all those people to get where she needed to be. That determination should take her far. Or get her beat up a lot.

I am sorry to say that I was a total mom. I wanted to be cool, but when I saw scores of other moms trying to be cool, I came to my senses. The concert was not for me. It was for The Princess. I sat about 87% of the time. The mom next to me ate a funnel cake. I really wanted a bite and almost asked if we could share.

I will also say that a person needs a small bank loan to attend this event. The t-shirt that The Princess bought was $55. The program was $25. Miley the Millionaire has taken in quite a few bucks from The Palace this year.

I am going to quickly share the attire of the moms and their daughters. Oh my. I have never seen so much bling in one place. I literally saw a 10 year old girl in jeans and HIGH HEELS. She was dragging her poor little feet, bless her heart. Many moms were dolled up. Wow. I think Big Mama needs to do a Fashion Friday about the type of jeans that need to be tucked into a specific type of boot. Apparently there is some confusion. There is also a guitar purse that must be all the rage. I thought maybe it was a Hannah Montana thing, but I saw way too many grown women carrying them to be sure.

Finally, I must give a shout out to The King. He was one of a few males in attendance. He only complained about being at the concert on the last weekend of hunting season 8 times. I thought that was admirable. I think he was with us for one purpose and that purpose he accomplished. He got us out of the traffic of the thousands of distracted women drivers after the concert. I have to say, as a woman, I was embarrassed at the poor driving skills of these ladies. Only once did The King honk and scream, “Idiot driver!” I quickly told The Princess that her daddy meant “idiot” in its most positive application.

We then spent the night at The Peabody Hotel because second to seeing Miley, The Princess really wanted to see the ducks. This is a great example of the 2 worlds she is torn between.

It was certainly a special weekend for The Princess. That makes it totally worth it for me.

Seriously, if you are able to stand the Crackberry photo, enlarge this and look at those jeans.

Did You Say Something? I'm Sorry. I Can't Hear You.

Oh, to be young.

Let's just say I'm feeling every one of my years.

I'm pooped, but wanted to share a picture from The Hannah Montana Concert Event.

We were fortunate enough to have seats on the floor thanks to The Queen Mother.

During The Jonas Brothers' opening act, we found The Princess inching closer to the stage.

Now...our seats weren't necessarily near the stage.

By the time Hannah/Miley made it out, guess where The Princess had landed...

The small child by herself at the front of the stage with her white sleeves pushed above her elbows vowing her eternal devotion to Miley?

That would be The Princess.

I've got plenty of stories and much better, well, a little bit better pictures. I can't wait to share them.

The cotton balls in my ears are driving me nuts, so I'm going to go take them out...what? I don't have cotton balls in my ears? OH...I've lost my hearing? Of course.

Before I run, what is up with the mom giving Miley the rockin' hand signal? You just won't believe the stories...

Here We Go

The weekend has finally arrived.

The Princess can hardly contain herself.

Saturday morning, we are heading to The Hannah Montana Concert Event.

Oh my word.

What were we thinking?

Is there anyway to anticipate the squealing pitch of thousands of tweens?


Did you see her on Oprah last week?

Did you hear the squeals?

Will my nerves be able to handle the madness?

Will Billy Ray be there?

Must I stand the entire time?


What does a parent wear to such an event?

What if (by accident, of course) I sing along?

What if The King sings along?

What if The King is on his Crackberry during the concert?

How many possible ways are there to embarrass The Princess?
The King will most likely find them all.
On purpose.

What if we sold the tickets to fund the college education of The Princess?

Wish us luck.

The Internal Clock of a Princess

There are a few things in our week that never change. Church is on Sunday. Thursday is Trash Day. We must leave the house by 7:23 on school mornings to make it there on time.

For two years it has been 7:23.

Two years.

Yesterday morning at 7:15, The Princess sat on my bed, fully dressed, eating a pop-tart and staring into space. She asked The King if he thought she was going to be ready on time since we usually (usually?) leave at 7:23. She wondered if we would be leaving at 7:23 today.

What?!?

I mean, all she had left to do was brush her teeth, brush her hair, put on her shoes and coat, gather her belongings and get out the door.

A portion of those precious 8 minutes were spent in her bathroom.

Her upstairs bathroom.

I am downstairs packing her lunch, checking her backpack, writing her teacher a note and, you know, blogging.

She begins screaming, “Mom, you’ve got to come up here. Hurry! Mom! I need you. Quick, Mom!”

I take the stairs two at a time putting my life at risk.

“What is it, Princess?”

“Can you go into your bathroom and get my hairbrush for me?”

Isn’t it CUTE how time has no meaning to a 10-year-old?

The Princess and Her Castle

The Princess has had a school assignment looming over me, I mean her, for a month.


She is supposed to build a castle for Medieval Day at her school.

There are really no rules to follow...just create the castle of her choice.

Her grandfather helped her design this masterpiece on Thanksgiving Day.

This would definitely be her choice of castle !!