Lesson 39: Where is your Tipping Point?

Eloise is in a book club, everyone!  I always thought the idea was cool, but I never really had the opportunity to join one.  No one sought me out, and I was not adventurous enough to seek one out on my own.  I read a few of Oprah's book choices for her book club, but never found the connection to them that other readers did.  Truthfully, Oprah, I found them, kind of....er.......well.....um...... quite depressing.  When you get done with a book and feel like you want to jump off of a bridge, the book didn't really do anything for you.  Oprah is forgiven though, because she pointed me toward one of my favorite books of all time, East of Eden by John Steinbeck.  Readers, if you haven't read that one yet, it is worth the time investment.  It is a beautiful story and one I plan to read again someday.  Maybe I'll suggest that one to my new book-lovin' peeps, because someone finally asked me to partake.  Yeehaw!

When I told my husband, who is not much of a reader (he is a math teacher), that I was joining a book club, this was his response:  "We can't afford it."  I was like, "There is no fee to join a book club."  For some reason he thought that a book club was like that thing in the Sunday paper ads that I joined 10 years ago--the Book of the Month Club.  The club mailed me books every month to read and charged my credit card which my husband hated.  I had books stacked up on my bedside table waiting to be read and the charges kept coming in and he made me stop.  Divorce or my books.  I did spend a day or two thinking it over, but decided it was in my best interest to cancel my Book of the Month membership. 

I explained to my logical-analytical-math-minded husband that a Book Club is a group of people who choose a book and read it over a couple of months time, then meet over dinner to discuss what they thought of the book.  There was this long pause, followed by a quizzical look, and then this response:  "For real?"  When I answered in the affirmative, my husband laughed and shook his head and said, "People really do that?"  My birthday is coming next week, so if you haven't sent me a birthday card yet and want to send me a sympathy card instead, go right ahead.

The Book Club choice was The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell.  I highly recommend it if you like nonfiction and even if you are not a fan of the genre.  The subtitle of the book is "How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference."  It is almost hard to classify the book, because I've never read anything else like it.  I decided to reference Malcolm Gladwell himself for clarification.  On his website he answered this question:  How would you classify The Tipping Point?  The following was his response which I think is a good hook for all of my readers:  I like to think of it as an intellectual adventure story. (Hooked, yet?)  It draws from psychology and sociology and epidemiology, and uses examples from the worlds of business and education and fashion and media.  (See what I mean?  Something for everyone).

WHAT'S THAT?? FASHION?   Cha-ching!  My sister Karen just read the word "fashion" and charged the book from Barnes and Noble on her credit card and it will be at her house in 3 days.  She'll never read it though and ask me what it's about in due time, only to tell her friends, "I read this really great book........."

The most interesting part of the book is about Gladwell's "Law of the Few."  This means in Eloise's terms, that in order for something to hook with people, to really make an impact--it depends on just a few people with a unique set of social gifts.  Gladwell categorizes these people into three types and calls them Connectors, Mavens, and Salesmen.  Given the fact that you are reading this blog, you are probably a "social type" yourself and I think you could classify yourself into one of Gladwell's categories.  Read them below to see if you fit into one of them.  The wording of the descriptions is paraphrased from an Amazon publisher's review.  The publishers have a little more fluency than I do tonight:

• CONNECTOR:  people who "link up  with the world and have a special gift for bringing the world together.  They are people who have an extraordinary knack for making friends and acquaintances.  These individuals have social networks of over 100 people (so--how many facebook friends do you have?).  My sister Karen and her 819 facebook friends comes to mind right away.
• MAVENS:  information specialists.  These are the people we rely upon to connect us with new information.  They accumulate knowledge, especially about the marketplace, and know how to share it with others.  A maven likes to solve other people's problems.  I just realized that my mother isn't just annoying, she's only trying to help solve my problems for me--even as I turn 40 years old.  Thanks, mom--You're a MAVEN.
• SALESMEN:  persuaders.  These are very charismatic people with powerful negotiation skills.  They tend to have the ability to make others agree with them.  They are good at using nonverbal cues to get people on their side.  Geez!  I thought that silent head nod and extended hand with a beer in it was just an invitation to drink.  Here, all along, my dad is a salesman--a salesman for Yeungling nonetheless, but a salesman just the same.

After completing the book in just a few days, I was left with the satisfaction of a better understanding of the world around me.  There is a science behind fads that I never even knew of before.  When Gladwell was asked on his website what he hoped readers would take away from the book, he responded the following:  One of the things I'd like to do is to show people how to start "positive" epidemics of their own.  The virtue of an epidemic, after all, is that just a little input is enough to get it started, and it can spread very, very quickly.    Kind of like Lessons From the Lamp Post's popularity in Slovenia.  I do have 29 followers, you know.  Not quite an "epidemic of positive thought" yet, but maybe tomorrow there will be 30.  All in due time, my friends, all in due time.

So, to answer my own question I put as this blog title, "Where is your Tipping Point?"  It better be on your bedside table.

Happy reading,
Eloise

Lesson 38: Learn Your Presidents

Happy President's Day, lamp post followers!  I will be enjoying a day off today in honor of the American Presidents.  I just heard all my foreign followers click the red x.  Sorry, Slovenians.  I'm a patriotic girl and have to give props to my homeland whenever I get the chance.  That should free up some cyber space for my American and Canadian readers.  Maybe your computers will all work faster.  Yes, Canadians, stay on here.  It never hurts to learn more about the country with whom you share a border. 

Eloise loves history, but there is more to learn every year.  Imagine the difficulty as a teacher.  We have to continually revisit history and condense and whittle away at the "old stuff" to make room for the "new stuff."  Throw in there the many and varied interpretations of people and events, and we history teachers have the toughest job on the planet--keeping a very important subject alive in minds of young people when the subjects being taught about are long dead. 

I have a respect for clever people.  The person who created the above video, albeit annoying on the first run through, cleverly found a way to condense presidential history into 3 minutes and 19 seconds.  It was obviously made more than ten years ago because "W" and Obama are not included in the piece.  It definitely is worth a whirl though, because I think it is everyone's responsibility to understand the basic history of their country.

I tell my students the easiest way to do this is to learn the Presidents.  I make my students memorize them from time to time.  I require them to write the last names in order from Washington to Obama--43 in all with Grover Cleveland confusing us with those two non-consecutive terms. Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Adams...... I single handedly drove parents of 150 students crazy.  Children were reciting the presidents on the way to soccer practice, during dinner, and in bubbly bathtubs.  Many of my students' parents thanked me for the history brush up as well.  Once they are in your head though, you have that frame of reference.  You if you know Lincoln is the 16th president, you can easily figure out that the Civil War was around 1860.  Need to know something up or back from that date--just count your presidents.  It is like having a new tool in your toolbox.  Something you can use when you need it, like when you take a ride in the Cash Cab.  A presidents question just may buy your dinner that night, not to mention give you free cab fare.

So anyone willing to challenge themselves a bit can take it upon yourself to memorize the Presidents of the United States in order, find me.  I will have prizes for you.  See me  in person, call me, e-mail me, or text me them (that would be killer on the thumbs, wouldn't it?).  If you use one of the written methods and I don't hear your voice, you could be cheating and reading them from your friend Mr. Wikipedia.  Shame on you, Canadians.  We put our trust in the maple leaf, so don't betray it.  I live on the northern border and can zip across the lake in a matter of an hour in my father's speedboat called the Titanic.  You don't want to mess with Eloise, especially coming at you in a speed boat flying Old Glory.

Enjoy the above video.  I think you to will be amused at how the creator put it all together.  My students enjoyed it and we are all kids at heart, so I believe you will too.

Happy President's Day.
Eloise--Commander in Chief, Lamp Post Dharma Station

Lesson 37: T Minus 20 and Counting

Tik, tik, tik, tik, tik, tik, tik, tik, TOK.  Yep.  That's it, Readers.  Time is almost up.  20 days left in my 30's and then I'll meet 40!  March 3rd.  Mark it on your calendars because you have a job to do.  You have to help me with a little Eloisesque experiment.  I am asking you to send me a birthday card.

I want a birthday card in my mailbox.  You know, that thing at the end of your driveway with the red flag that you stick up.  I live in Erie, PA, so I can best describe it as that boxlike thing on a post that the snow plow hits once a winter.  It is the thing we used to pay bills before on-line banking and send birthday wishes to friends before facebook wall posts. I want cards, in envelopes, with stamps on them.  Consider the task helping out the post office.  I hear they have been struggling lately.

I want to confuse my mail carrier.  I want Mr. Mailman to think, "Wow.  Someone really important must live in that house."  I kind of want the flood of cards to be like the one when the owls were delivering the Hogwarts invitations to Harry Potter.  I want to roll around in a sea of them.

Don't think that this is all to support my vanity or to help me cope with turning 40.  Not a bit.  You are actually helping me take part in a little social networking experiment of my own.  I am going to see how I receive the most cards--through requests via telecommunications such as e-mail, facebook, and blogger or tell-a-kid, as in my students.  They will receive this assignment beginning next week.  I will collect all cards and use them as part of my "big numbers" lesson.  Kids love big numbers, so I try to put one in my Quest classes every year.  Keep in mind I will be using the cards for school, so no boobs, butts, or bad words.  School kind of frowns upon that you know.

Of course as with any assignment, there will be some sort of assessment.  I will be having a little contest and do some judging to make it extra fun.  There will be prizes for my favorite cards.  I will have "kid categories" and "adult categories".  There will be store-bought and hand-made divisions.  There will be a prize for the card received from the furthest distance away.  Slovenians unite!  You have a chance for the win.  There will be bonus points awarded to anyone finding or making me a card that has any connection to LOST, such as a dharma symbol, an island, or a picture of my hottie hero, Dr. Jack Shephard. 

If you are reading this blog, you owe it to me to honor my request.  Even if you live in Slovenia.  I have given you hours upon hours of reading enjoyment free of charge.  I have taught you things, made you laugh, and hopefully inspired you.  So do this for me.  Please.

Here are your directions for your assignment.  Please read them carefully.
1.  Shop for or make the perfect birthday card for Eloise
2.  If it has a connection to LOST, bonus points will be awarded.
3.  Sign it
4.  Make a notation that you were informed of this assignment on Blogger
5.  Put it in an envelope with a stamp
6.  If you live in the north, take a brisk, cold walk out to that thing at the end of your driveway called a mailbox, place the card inside, and put up the flag.  If you live in the south, you don't even need a jacket now, so no complaining.  If you live in Slovenia, I don't know what your weather is like so do your best.
7.  Check back on the blog in a few weeks to see if your card was considered a "winner."
8.  My address:  Eloise Hawking--The Lamp Post---5768 Firman Road   Erie, PA   16510

Spread the word, Readers.  Let's make my 40th birthday extra large!
Eloise

Lesson 36: Moths are Tougher than Butterflies

My little butterfly spread her wings the other night.  Natalie participated in Harbor Creek High School's Ever So Lovely Pageant.  It was a night intended to celebrate and showcase the beauty of girls with special needs.  The girls were given an opportunity to shine.  They donned beautiful gowns and were escorted by handsome high school boys across the stage to a cheering crowd.  Each girl had the opportunity to stand alone in the spotlight showcasing a special talent or by sharing special knowledge of herself with the audience.  There was singing and dancing and sharing by the girls which led to whoops and shouts and tears of joy among the spectators. 

The panel of judges which was an array of teachers and the high school principal, declared all of the girls winners.  Each girl received a sparkling tiara, a satin sash, and a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  Natalie put her crown back on after we were home and she was changed into her pajamas.  I've seen her walk into her room several times this weekend and trace her finger over the bumpy rhinestone hearts on her crown. The night mattered.  Don't think for one second that she forgot about it because she doesn't have the ability to prattle on about it like other pre-teens do.  I can tell by the sparkle in her eye and the shy half smile she gives me when I mention the night to her.  Mother Eloise knows.

The song posted above is Miley Cyrus and Billy Ray Cyrus singing Butterfly Fly Away.  Play it through a couple of times and listen to the lyrics.  It is about a little girl learning how to spread her wings and fly away.  It was a perfect song choice for the night and more specifically for Natalie.  She will turn thirteen this May and in many instances acts like a typical teenager.  She gets moody, is harder to rouse in the morning, and is constantly into my make up.  As much as I try to shelter her, she too is growing up and I know I must step back at times and let her figure things out for herself--like how to put on mascara without poking herself in the eye. 

Of course this brings a LOST episode to mind.  In season 1 there is an episode titled "The Moth."  It is about Charlie Pace's battle with his drug addiction.  Imagine crashing on an island with a heroin addiction, knowing that your stash went down with the plane.  Charlie finds later that a drug runner's plane also went down on the island and it was discovered with a cockpit full of dead bodies, maggots, and Mary statues filled with heroin.  John Lock talks to Charlie about his problem in my favorite John Lock sort of way.  John uses stories to teach people things, almost like the parables of Jesus.  John finds a cocoon hanging on a jungle leaf and points it out to Charlie.  This is their conversation:

"What is in this cocoon, Charlie?"

"A butterfly."

"No.  It is not a butterfly.  It is a moth.  It's ironic because butterflies get all the attention, but moths are stronger---faster.  See that little hole?" (pointing to the little hole at the top of the cocoon)

"Yes."

"This moth is just about ready to emerge.  It is in there struggling---dragging its way through its thick hide of the cocoon.  I could help it---take my knife and gently widen the opening and the moth would be free--but it would be too weak to survive.  Struggle is nature's way of strengthening things."

Raising Natalie has been kind of like that; a blend of helping and stepping back.  Giving her the extra patience and support she needs, but knowing when to hold back and let her try on her own.  The latter is the hardest part for me.  Try wiping mascara of the face of a highly sensitive autistic kid.  It isn't fun, but she's getting it.  The ebb and flow of parenthood I assume. 

Enjoy the photos and the song.  When you are having a bad day and life seems difficult, remember the words from the writers of LOST:  Struggle is nature's way of strengthening things.  Natalie child, I decided you aren't a butterfly, you are one tough, strong moth.  I am proud of you, sweetheart!  Spread your wings and fly, but Mother Eloise will be close by with my bug net.  No worries.

Always,

Eloise

Lesson 35: XLV means 45

On Sunday, February 6, 2011 my family will have the ultimate football showdown: a Pittsburgh Steeler vs Green Bay Packer match up in Super Bowl XLV--that's 45 if you aren't familiar with the Roman Numerals--We still use those, why?   It will undoubtedly be legendary.  The Overdorffs are die hard Steeler fans and the Groshek boys are big, giant cheeseheads.  With intermarriage, Karen is allowed dual allegiance.  This keeps her well pleased as she can buy twice the merchandise. 

Both teams are not only deserving to play in America's top game, but have the most interesting histories behind their franchises.  I thought I'd take a bit of cyber space to give you a little NFL history lesson.  When I am done, I hope that you find it almost hard to choose who to root for.  If you are one of my Slovenian followers, pick Pittsburgh because Eloise is a Pennsylvanian.

My sources of information are mainly personal comments from my father on the Pittsburgh side and brother in law, WisCONsin native, Steve, as well as my friend Mr. Wikipedia, and numerous NFL and fan websites.

We'll start with the underdogs in my opinion, but not according to the odds makers (who do they think they are anyway?):  The Packers.   Many people know that Green Bay is a fan owned franchise and that the wait for season tickets is now estimated to be 100 years.  Aunt Eloise loves to buy her nephews Erik and Jack, Green Bay team attire for Christmas every year.  I also love to find things with the big G on them because I tell them the G really stands for Groshek.  I was always under the assumption that the G was for Green Bay.  Here is a little gold nugget of information for you:  the original intent of the golden G was to stand for "Greatness."  The Pack also has quite a following that is admirable given the winters they have up in that God Forsaken Land.  I found out that every game at Lambeau Field has been sold out since 1960, regardless of their performance, no matter the temperature.  Now that readers, is something special to be said about loyalty to your team.  Hats off to.....,or rather, hoods up to the Packer fans on that one.

The Steeler fans, who have united under the name Steeler Nation, do not share quite as warm and fuzzy reputation.  They are often referred to as "white trash hillbillies". Given the working class town that the Steelers call home to, the fans match the rough and tumble nature of the team.  Sports journalists have sometimes portrayed the fans in according to Wikipedia, "an unflattering light."  One sports journalist called them the "grubbiest, loudest, and nastiest fan base in all of sports."  I think I should send that writer to Cleveland to visit all of the Ohio Overdorffs and sit him in the Dog Pound, or have him shout "I love LeBron James!" at the top of his lungs.  I beg to differ.  Cleveland fans are way worse.

Rough as the fans can be, Steelers fans are loyal too, as they bow down to the Rooney family who has owned the franchise since the beginning.  The Rooney family history is extremely interesting and if you want a good read, look up some of that on the internet.  They love the city of Pittsburgh and always use the team to help the betterment of the city. 

Love and loyalty are two themes are interwoven into both teams.  The Pittsburgh fans will surely be gnawing on Roethlisburgers and smashing the Iron City beer cans off of their foreheads next Sunday.  The Cheeseheads of WisCONson will be no doubt eating cheesecurds while swilling Milwaukee brewed Miller Genuine Draft.  Both will be 100% behind the team they love.  They'll cheer, clap, shout, yell, and even cry.  If you don't believe me, just come and see my mother watch a Steelers game. 

No matter where you live, or who you like, pick a team and watch the game.  It is part of our culture, part of America.  If you don't understand the game, wait for the commercials.  If you aren't much for those, watch the half time show.  If that doesn't trip your trigger than at least cook up some food and invite a few friends over and watch them watch the game.  If none of that catches your fancy you are a total loser so get off of my blog.  Eloise does not have any room in her life for crabby people.

I feel like I can't lose this year.  I got what I really wanted--the match up and two weeks of squealing and anticipation and speculation over what might happen.  The anticipation is often better than the actual event in my book.  I hope it's a great game.....legendary.

Here we go!
Eloise

Lesson 34: Everyone Needs a Pal and a Confidant

Lordy, lordy!  All my friends are turning 40!  Because I have a March birthday, I fall to the younger side of my peer group.  Those born in the fall and winter have all crossed over into the next decade.  It is fun to run into people from my graduating class, because the first question we ask each other is, "Did you turn 40 yet?" I just ran into my old locker buddy Renee Parton Kertulis at the Harbor Creek vs. North East basketball match-up and it was the first topic of conversation.   It amazes me how I can usually remember the month of their birthdays--even if they were just acquaintances.  When you are friends with people during their youth, you experience the "big birthdays" with them:  13, 16, and of course 21.  I can remember the month of the birthday usually by remembering which bar I met them at to share our first drink.  Was it in the summer or during Christmas break?

Two of my special friends will be turning 40 this year.  Both are named Tracy.  Both are very dear to me.  Tracy #1 is Tracy Montgomery Cargioli whom I met the first day of Kindergarten and have been friends with ever since.  She was known throughout my college years as "my sidekick" as she was my college roommate, fellow Pizza Hut and Marketplace Grill waitress, and even for one summer---Cheerleader!  She has a great power of persuasion packed into her 4' 10" body, and convinced me to try out with her for the Erie Wave Cheerleading squad in the early 1990's.  Tracy is front and center.  Eloise is one of the big-hairs in the back. Have fun trying to find me!  Being such a positive thinker, she was convinced I stood a chance against the 200 other girls trying out, despite the fact that I had never cheered before in my life.  She gave me a crash course as I drove us to the Gannon Rec Center for try outs. Imagine my shock when the letter came in the mail to my Darrow College apartment that we both made the squad.  Because Tracy is a talented graphic artist, I assumed that she doctored the letter to pull a prank on me, which is consistent with her funny sense of humor.  It took an hour or so of convincing me that the letter was authentic.  I guess there is something to the power of positive thinking. 

 In college I had a pickle green, 1980 Omega that I drove around.  Tracy was always my co-pilot.  The car's previous owner must have tried to soup it up and cut in a sunroof to attempt to make the vehicle look more cool.  It didn't work.  The sunroof was prone to leaks, and it made the headliner inside the car fall down.  I kept a stapler between the bucket seats to temporarily reattach it when it let go.  Because I am tall, it sometimes rested on my head.  Given the hairstyles of the early 90's, I had tons of curls and hairspray, so my own stiff hair served as a fine support for the drooping headliner.  I also kept an umbrella in between the seats, too.  When I turned corners too fast when it was raining, water would rush in and dump on Tracy's head.  Sometimes she'd ride around with that open umbrella over her inside the car.  Oh what we must have looked like!

There is only one thing that I have never forgiven her for--her "black and white" art assignment for a photography class she was taking.  Youngsters, when you do go to college, I highly recommend living with an art major--it is really interesting.  Caution though--you could find yourself being the subject of art assignments, often against your will.  We had another roommate named Stephanie.  She was a beauty from Pittsburgh of Italian heritage.  She had shiny black hair, big brown eyes, stunning cheek bones, and a dazzling smile filled with perfect white teeth.  Tracy dressed Stephanie in black from head to toe--black turtle neck, black leggings, and pulled her jet black hair away from her beautiful face.  I was not so lucky.  I was deemed "white" which is actually fitting for me given the pasty hue my skin takes on during the long winter months.  She put me in a white turtle neck, white puffy sweatpants, and pulled my curly blonde hair away from my face.  And oh yeah--told me to wear no make up.  And so began a series of poses with Stephanie and I side by side, back to back, and face to face.  Ladies--you know what happens when you wear white---it really does make you look bigger.  I have opted for wearing black ever since I saw those photos.  Hideous.

Tracy and I had always discussed the adventure of moving south together after college.  We were kind of in the middle of formulating those plans after college graduation when I met this guy named Louie.  We began dating and I told Tracy I thought I was going to stick around home for awhile to see about this guy........  Being adventurous herself, that didn't stop Tracy.  She grabbed another high school friend named Jay, and took him along on her adventure to North Carolina.  Glad she did, because they have been married for 13 years and have two boys named Tommy and Mikey.  See how things work out?

When she left town, I felt like a part of me left too.  I was happy that we both were beginning new chapters of our lives.  I knew we would always be friends, and we have maintained our close friendship despite the 500 miles between us.  She is still my first call when I have news to share or need a shoulder to cry on.  However the distance between us makes meeting for coffee and a chit chat a little difficult.  When she left, I prayed to God to prepare her path for her and make her journey safe and fruitful.  I also prayed to God to send me someone to fill the void for me, too.  I would miss my friend and the companionship someone living close by brings.

God did just that.  He brought someone new into my life, and another Tracy at that!  Tracy #2 is Tracy Stetson Scotch, currently a reading teacher in the North East School district, mother to three boys, avid sports fan, and God Mother to my son Sam.  She and her husband Dave are old friends of my husband's from high school.  God brought Tracy into the new chapter of my life--the hard one, if you ask me.  This phase of my life and what has been involved has been really tough at times--the pregnancies, the child rearing, finding balance between work and home, school activities, etc.  It is the busiest time in a person's life.  One that robs a woman of the freedom of your own "Me Time."  She is the friend that I would call and say, "Bring the boys over to play.  Let's catch up."  We'd sit and drink coffee and discuss how to lose baby weight and how our husbands don't help us enough and let the kids tear up the house.  We have a standing agreement that if I am ever in accident and stuck in the hospital, she is to come and clean up my house so my in-laws don't find out that my "clean house" is only surface level--she promised to straighten out the closets and the drawers.  

Tracy is such inspiration to me because of her dedication to her family and her stick-to-itiveness.  She started running a few years ago and has kept pushing herself for continuous improvement.  5K's turned into triathlons.  Now the triathlons have given way to dreams of a half marathon.  She was discussing the training regimen for it while we had our butts planted in the bleachers watching her son's basketball game a few weekends ago.  The training regimen does not sound fun.  I told her that if and when she did go for it, I'd be there at the finish line waiting for her.

The funniest story I had about Tracy #2's dedication as a friend happened this summer during her August 21st birthday.  I had purchased a triathlon t-shirt for her as a special gift.  I can never catch her at home it seems because she is always at some sporting event for one of her boys.  I grabbed the pink t-shirt and tied a simple ribbon around the middle of it, and left it on the back door of her house.  She stopped by my house wearing the t-shirt that evening to thank me for the gift.  Imagine my surprise when I opened the door and I found her wearing a t-shirt I had purchased for my daughter at the same place.  A special order one that I chose for Ellen--also in pink.  The shirt read:  LIFE IS BETTER IN MY TREE HOUSE. 

I did what only a good friend would do--screamed at her and bodily shoved her out of the house, down the garage step and into the driveway.  I told her I gave her the wrong shirt and I didn't want Ellen to see it because it was a special surprise for her birthday that was a few weeks later.  My husband built Ellen a fabulous tree house this summer and the t-shirt commemorated the event.

Tracy did only what any good friend would do in return...stripped her shirt off and was soon sitting in the front seat of her van only in her sports bra.  What a friend!  I ran in and got her the intended t-shirt to wear--a pink t-shirt that said TRIATHLETE.  Luckily Tracy Scotch has a great sense of humor and we laughed together until our sides hurt.  I asked her if she wondered why on earth I would get her a tree house t-shirt.  She said she did, but knows that I always have my reasons for everything and she was sort of anxious to hear my explanation.  The only thing she was annoyed with was the fact that I got her a medium!  She is in great shape from all that exercise, but still is my height and prefers a roomier shirt.  I get that.

The lyrics to the song prove so true to my friends whom each turn 40 this year.  Tracy Cargioli turns 40 today, January 21st.  Tracy Scotch turns 40 exactly seven months from now on August 21st.  "We've traveled down the road and back again."  We sure have!  Tracy C. was my co-pilot in a 1980 pickle green Omega.  Traveling down Tracy S.'s road is a bit harder as I will be chasing her to snap her photo as she runs her races.  Girls, pretend I am singing you each this part:  "your heart is true, you're a pal and a confidant." 

God brought me two friends named Tracy.  Each came into my life at just the right time and I know that neither will ever leave me, no matter how far they move or how long it is between our coffee visits.  My goal is to get to Heaven someday, and to do that I have to make it through this life.  That is not always easy, but it would be deemed an impossible task if I didn't have friends to take along on my journey. 

So ladies, the above song is posted just for you--thank you for being a friend, moreover thank you for being MY friends.  I am looking forward to all we experience in the next chapter of our lives.
Always and Forever,
Eloise

Lesson 33: This Blog Just Upped It a Notch

A good story teller is always on the defensive.  Those with a God given way with words can tell a story in such a manner that the audience is on pins and needles with anticipation or laughing in hysterics.  But once in awhile, a story is so good the audience turns on the storyteller because the tale seems too good to be true.  A person wonders if parts are embellished like the folk tales of Paul Bunyan, or if it is flat out a load of crap.

I must admit that yes, this story is about a load of crap.  Unfortunately it is all true because it is yet another saga about the potty training of my three year old son Sam, who happens to be about the size of Paul Bunyan.  What makes this Sam story even better is that it is accompanied with sound--the true blue voice (and quick glimpse) of my baby boy.  This should prove to all of you what I have been going through every single day for months on end. 

Yep--you got it folks.  Eloise has her paws on a flip camera and is having a great deal of fun.  Today marked a momentous day in my history.  I made my first youtube video.  There are many benefits in being a teacher of youngsters.  One of which is they teach you how to do lots of cool things on the computer during the last five minutes of class. 

Those flip cameras really are a cinch.  Thank Santa Claus because a cute little pink one found its way under the Christmas tree for Ellen this year.  They really are as easy as they claim to be.  I plugged the above video into my computer tower with this handy little flippy-outy-thingy right on the camera which is the size as a pocket Kleenex pack.  The step by step directions that popped up on the screen walked me through the entire process, all the way to the doorstep of youtube.  Once I entered the youtube gates, I registered for an account and had the video uploaded in a matter of two minutes.  I forgot to give it a name, so until I figure out how to change it, Sam's potty video will remain named "Video 15."  Kind of sounds like the secretive "Area 51" out in Nevada, doesn't it?  That sounds about right since I am still trying to uncover the secret to his potty success.

About a week ago I was on my massive clean out after Christmas.  We had to find homes for all of our new Christmas toys and clothes.  My rule is that when something new comes in, something old must go out.  We are at capacity level in our house.  Unfortunately I told my brain the same thing years ago, and I have been suffering because of it.  Sorry if I forget your names every now and again.  I do get 100 plus new students each year. Something new in, something old out.

I hollered my usual phrase before I began the massive attack:  "IF IT IS NOT NAILED DOWN AND IT DOES NOT LOOK LIKE IT HAS BEEN USED OR LOVED IN THE LAST DAY IT IS OUTTA HERE!!!!!"  As I was snapping my big, black garbage bags to life and my daughters were running to scoop up everything near and dear to them in their arms, I happened to discover our first "camcorder" from about 12 years ago.  My parents bought it for us as a gift to record all the special moments and milestones of Natalie's life.  I was amazed that the size, weight, and expense of the contraption.  It is amazing how small everything is getting.  If technology keeps reducing in size and Americans keep getting larger in girth, we are going to look like the most ridiculous humans walking the earth.  Great big people talking on phones the size of postage stamps.

God knows what this will do to Sam someday.  Don't raise an eyebrow at me because I have considered the consequences.  But I know all my readers with teenagers and beyond have flashed that "bare butt lying on a blanket" picture around to the new boyfriend or girlfriend at least once.  Not only will Sam have the oral stories, photographs,  and have eternal life in blogosphere, but now video can accompany all of that.  I am hoping his counselors in Juvey can help him straighten that all out one day.  I mean no harm, my boy, but you are causing Eloise great grief. 

I tried to respect his privacy.  That is why I focused on Natalie's snowman near the bathroom door for most of the video clip.  Just hearing the sound of his protests builds the anticipation until you actually get a quick glimpse of Sam in action.  The only reason I did turn the corner to the bathroom was to show you all where he peeled off the wallpaper, but the paper is tan and I am not great with the camera yet, so it didn't focus as clearly as I would have liked it to.  Maybe someday you'll see the carnage.  I'll have to post that mess along with the shots of the living room carpet.  His blue crayola paint made a nice 20 foot trail on the carpet throughout the house.  Washable?  Yeah right.

This blog is not solely for your entertainment.  There is some knowledge to be gained here.  Maybe if an occasional bout of constipation hits you, you can remember Sam's rationalization.  I bet your "poop flew away out of your butt", too.  No need for over the counter remedies or a needless doctor visit.  It will fly back to you sooner or later. 

My first subject for the video just had to be Sam as he is so well known by my readers.  Maybe none of you are feeling safe right now knowing that I have this capability.  So consider this your fair warning to be on guard.  Eloise has a handheld video camera in reach.  Scary.  At least you know now that my nose isn't growing like Pinocchio.  Eloise speaks the truth, no matter how painful it is.  If you don't believe me about Sam--just watch the clip.  The proof after all, is in the pudding.  With Sam though, the truth is in the pooping.

Goodbye my readers.  I'm all pooped out for today.
Eloise