My HALF Birthday: A Celebration of Life in the Face of the Unthinkable

Today is my half birthday. Monumental-in-my-mind. I'm fifty-nine and a half! Why go public with my actual, factual age? So many reasons! After yesterday. After Orlando. 

Every additional day of life is something to celebrate, something to cling to, something to appreciate and savor. I have been watching with glee as I have approached this personal milestone. And NOW, today, the day, one day after Orlando, after the unthinkable, following the unimaginable? I have reached this day of celebration. MY day. I am going to claim it. I am going to own it. I am going to share it.

You may not know this about me, but I am a TWO time survivor of early stage Breast Cancer. That has involved a series or biopsies and surgeries, and 36 trips to the hospital for 31 doses of radiation, culminating in a bilateral mastectomy and being scarred from armpit to armpit, {NOT pretty} complications from surgery that amounted to months and months and months and months of physical therapy to regain the use of my right arm and constant concern-treatment for lymphedema [also in the shallow end of the pool] and most recently being fitted for my own personal prosthetic silicone Barbie Boobies built-in-a-bra.

When I was awaiting my BC diagnosis, I was given a pamphlet about BCO (BreastCancer.org) and my sanity was restored. My first job was to select a user-name. I thought for about 59.5 seconds and said to myself, "Well going into this I have my faith and I just turned 50." So with that much thought that became my user-name: faithandfifty.

And amazing things happened.

I kept living. I met amazing women. I became part of their story and they became part of mine. Most notably there was the "Faith and Saint" story, but that would require a book. Short version: I have my own guardian angel. She is 'my people.' If you look closely at the photograph of the two of us in Chicago, she came to help me at a workshop and she wrote on her name tag, 'my people'..... because she wanted me to know that she had my back and that I had 'my people' with me. That seems like a long time ago and like yesterday all as one gooey mash up. She made me laugh. She made me cry. She made me laugh some more. 

So today is my half birthday. I have ALWAYS celebrated half birthdays! Ask my daughters about some of their HALF birthday celebrations. I've been known to make MORE of a fuss over a half birthday, when it is least expected, than an actual date-of-birth. So much more fun. And today it is mine. My half birthday. Fifty nine and a HALF. Claim it. Own it. Share it. Celebrate it.

On my next birthday, I will be SIXTY, I will become faithandsixty..... assuming those days continue to accumulate -- one at a time. Today. On June 13th, in 2016, on Planet Earth, it is all too easy to see how so very abruptly, one can no longer assume that one will have one more day. Orlando. Sandy Hook. Add to that the fickleness of a misplaced stop sign, a falling grand piano or cells that run amuck. There is no guarantee. There never has been. But on June 13th, there are glaring realities of the unthinkable in every.single.headline.

So it is with great exuberance that I implore you to join me in celebrating being alive! 

Take back the living of life from the hate monger. Take back life from the errant cells. 

I ask you to raise your cupcake, pick a daisy, watch the clouds billow, smell some lilacs, taste a fresh strawberry, salsa dance with abandon, watch your child splash in a puddle, quack like a duck, dart like a hummingbird, and go ahead and plant that tree, draw a doodle, finish your iMovie and get it uploaded, lick the beaters, exhale, sing in the shower, skip some stones, cry over a favorite classic tear jerker, go for the gusto, call your mom, fill out the forms, write the grant, fold the laundry, practice your saxophone, do a cartwheel, seek your scholarship, read a poem, open your own business, pack your suitcase, weed your garden, paint your nails, visit a cemetery, go skydiving, lick an ice cream cone, soak in the hot tub, fill your memory card, smile at a stranger, do the right thing, quilt a square, buy the ticket, pay-it-forward, tour a museum, laugh until it hurts, rewind, stroll, forgive, slam dunk, drink from the hose, open an account on Match.com or all of the above.

Feel free to leave a note below and tell me how you celebrated my half birthday. You have my permission to share at the hashtag:
‪#‎FaithAndFiftyNinePointFive‬ ‪#‎SorryNotSorryForTheLengthyHashtag‬

BTW: My best BCO friends have shortened my nick-name to faithie.

Those of us that are indeed "people of faith" MUST use the sorrow of yesterday to shine the light of the rainbow prism into the midst of that greatest darkness, and reclaim today, by the grace of God. We can not wait another day. We must act today. 

We simply must rise up, shoulder-to-shoulder and reclaim this moment by sharing our story, by sharing the ugly details, and share our own story of triumph over sorrow. We have to cast away that sorrow..... and get to the happy ending part, where the rainbow rises above. Where good triumphs. Where the promise reigns supreme. We must live a life where we do indeed love our neighbors as ourselves. Everyone on the block. All of our neighbors. 

The rainbow that is within reach, shining at the very heart of the intersection of darkness and hope must be carried forth into the grocery story, the roller skating rink, the elementary school classroom, the farmer's market, the neighborhood cook-out and the sanctuaries that are found in churches, synagogues and mosques alike. We must, as people of reason and hope, as believing believers unite against the darkness of hate and evil. We simply must rise up and overcome. We must speak up. We must stare down. We must be both brave and child-like. We must hold hands together and sing a new chorus of KumBaYa. Literally. #KumBaYa.

We simply must use our circle of influence for the good. We must use our social media, we must use our platform, we must use our connections to proclaim, "I am going to live this day as though it were my last. I am going to use my God-given gifts to do all that I can, in every way possible to contribute to the column that will be remembered as being good, positive, right, worthy, supportive, contributive and encouraging." 

Sign me up. I have been given one more day and I am here to celebrate it. Will you join me? 

Image from article at Hope for the Broken Hearted

My Saint Pat, or Pat Saint or Guardian angel Saint, didn't get to live a full fifty nine and a half years here amidst the effects of gravity and aging. She didn't get to be a grandmother. She didn't get to see Molly graduate from college, or Luke fly off into the big world. She got to watch down instead from heaven and send her greetings on the wisp of spring's gentlest breeze and the turning of the brown dirt into a cascade of rainbow-like flowers instead. 

She lives forever in my heart and I cannot possibly imagine what heaven was like yesterday to open the gates to so many in such a sorrow-filled way. I can only imagine that Pat was there to get recruits for her angelic choir ensemble and regaled with tales of Heavenly hi-jinx. She reminds me daily of her transcendent journey.  

I took that picture on Easter morning at the cathedral in Milan, Italy. 

I can only imagine that it something akin to the tears cried by angels yesterday. 

Light your own candle against the darkness. 

Sing your own song. 

The POWER of a GROUP Hug and ALIENS as AUTHENTIC Art!

TEACHER APPRECIATION WEEK

Have you felt appreciated this week?

I certainly have. 

I am the recipient of a group hug.

Where do I start? With the Aliens that are AUTHENTIC? 

Or the power of a group hug? 

Or some sort of reflection on what it is that I do for a living? 

Or my thoughts about life at the moment?

Or just how blessed I am? 

Or how WONDERFUL my life really is?

Or the rest of the story?

-------------------------------------

This next image is what I work over-time to project to the world:

THE SUN IS ALWAYS OUT.

My face is always smiling. 

The colors are happy razzle-dazzle.

I share my over-sized heart with others 

and every hair is in place. TaDAH!

After all. I get to work with children. 

I am appreciated for doing so. 

I get to share my unique spin on fun heavy duty learning: 

singing, signing and reading along the way.

I am indeed a fortunate woman. 

I get to do what I love and get better at doing it, 

through the opportunity of doing it, because I love it. 

Murphy has his laws. {Just sayin'.}

That's kinda profound, what I said, just above, up there. 

I know that I'm easily entertained, but I think there's a kernel of karmic truth 

in that thought my fingers just typed. 

I may need to quote myself. 

Yes. Yes, I do need to quote myself:

The power of having a blog? 

You can quote yourself if you want!

Truth be told. If you could take an internal photo of me right now? 

It would look more like this.

There is no sun in sight. 

Things look a bit dark, in fact. 

And I forgot my shoes! 

Don't get me started about my hair. 

Looks like a great empty spot inside, where my heart used to be.

Many of you know that we are in a 'train-wreck' portion of life. 

No. We were not on a train-that-wrecked. 

More metaphorical than passenger-steel-bullet crashing.

Just seems that much of what we thought to be true was not.

But the show must go on! 

Literally. 

*We can talk later as to the wisdom of delivering the keynote on Saturday for the Space Coast in central Florida and a school visit starting Tuesday morning in Detroit, with a drive in between to connect the dots, that also allowed for family hugs, because the state of Georgia is between the two.

A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do! 

So I put one foot in front of the other and search for my smile....

And attempt to get my buttons lined up.

I am not above safety pins and duct tape: take as needed!

Fake it till you make it.... and all of that jazz.

I am beyond blessed.

I get to look into the eyes of purity. 

I get to hear the uncensored thoughts of four year olds.

Yesterday I got to spend my day with about 222 preschoolers.

It may have seemed like 7 times that many, but I asked.

I'm sure I was told less that 250. 

Oh that I could bottle their responsiveness. 

Their delight. Their eagerness.

Instead I just let them power me.

I let their zest power me for the moment.

Moment by moment. 

I let their laughter, their belly laughs 

and their incredulity of delight -- fill me up. 

That's why I know it was Teacher Appreciation Day-week-month. 

They gave me the gift of their whole-hearted JOY:

WITH NO STRINGS ATTACHED!

Most of the cherubs sitting on that rug had no idea 

that I have too many tabs open in my brain. 

I found it very interesting that one of the insightful sweeties was able to document exactly what I see in the mirror.

As you can see, my heart has undergone a rebuild.

This is not my first metaphorical train-wreck.

I know at the top of my brain that I am a star. 

And as I focus on that star power, 

I can continue to contribute.

That is the power of authenticity. 

That is the power of open-ended materials. 

Even those that are four can convey the truth as they know it. 

I have a guy that stands beside me. 

He delivers me to places where I can contribute.

His buttons are in a row and his two hairs are combed.

We make an awesome team!

Right now, he is keeping us moving forward.

His character and steadfast devotion has stood the test of two decades plus. 

Train wrecks or Hawaiian bucket list adventure? 

You can count on him. He delivers. He's a man of his word.

What you see is what you get. 

He goes to the wall and back for family.

Yes. That is what children want. 

They want the adults in their lives to be honest and trust worthy. 

To tell the truth and then deliver the goods. 

To walk the talk. 

I'll always remember Dr. Pam Schiller 

say to her crowded keynote audience, 

"TRUST IS JOB ONE." 

It is our first responsibility to be trustworthy.

Children need our steadfast honesty and consistency. 

They can spot incongruity a mile away.

The day after "May-the-fourth-be-with-you" 

is Teacher Appreciation Day. 

I will never take the hug of a child for granted. 

It amazes me to no end that children will risk the penalties of getting out of line, 

to rush over and give me a parting hug.

You can almost see the hug bubbling up inside of them. 

Do I or don't I? 

Then the little feet come rushing.

Once the Genie is out of the bottle, 

it is not a very far leap to a full on, whole hearted GROUP hug.

Having a wall to support the crowd is a good thing. 

And just how does an entire BUILDING of EXCELLENCE emerge? 

An entire program? 

A staff willing to go the extra mile? 

Teachers well versed in best practice -- 

with evidence on every bulletin board of open ended process Art? 

It is NOT by accident. 

Good places emerge from GOOD people. 

Great places emerge under the leadership of GREAT people.

I would like to publicly profess my appreciation to this rainbow-maker. 

Amy has opened her heart and her home to the two of us vagabonds. 

She has baked us an apple pie in a paper bag. 

She has crafted chicken noodle soup to replenish and nourish. 

She has listened and she has hugged. 

This is NOT our first rodeo together. 

We think it is our fourth. 

There's something to be said for a port in the storm. 

A port in the storm that bakes and hugs? 

PRICELESS! 

* I have written about Authentic Art on more than one occasion. This is the lengthy culmination of several earlier articles.

EXCELLENCE, Inequity, Poverty + Benevolence, Organization & Rainbows

AUTHOR-ILLUSTRATOR SCHOOL VISIT

Welcome to excellence! 

If you've ever wondered what excellence looks like at the elementary school level, you are in for a treat. I have at least a glimpse to elevate your Wednesday to the WONDERFUL level! In the process I bet you'll be inspired and delighted at the same time. Without a doubt, you will see excellence-in-action!

I go to a lot of schools over the course of the year. I get to see a HUGE variety of settings in my travels. Here's a gen-u-ine truth. 

All schools are NOT created equal. 

It pains me to say that. There are bus-loads of children being dropped off to buildings that are from a by-gone era. There are children walking in the doors of buildings that have had to cut their budgets down to bare bones. There are students spending their school lives in less than optimal settings.  

What does school look like on the 155th day?

My author-illustrator visits are often underwritten by the hard work of a PTA/PTO. It is usually through parents working together that there is sufficient fund raising effort taking place to ensure that extra "frills" are still available for enrichment. [Don't get me started about ART being a frill that must be sacrificed during these economic times. That's a different rant altogether.]

What if a school doesn't even have a parent's organization? What happens to field trips and assemblies when families can no longer "pay-to-play" on behalf of their children? What becomes of those once in a lifetime memories that stretch the boundaries of the classroom? What happens when the majority of the building falls into gen-u-ine, documented poverty status? 

How is it that some schools are taking 5, 6 or even more field trips a year and others can offer ZERO? My heart aches for those kids. The ones who never have a field trip. No pumpkin patch, no zoo, no museum, no theater, no symphony, no ballet. The ones who never get an assembly. No exploding science experiments from the guy with the crazy hair. No life-size marionettes visiting in the gym. No African drum ensemble after recess. 

What about those kids? There are so many great divides left in this amazing country of ours. The ache for "those kids" and "that school" is real. What opportunities are cut off, because dreams were never lit early on? When does someone organize a sit-in for that school? When does someone lead the demonstration that points out the obvious? Schools are different from neighborhood to neighborhood. Opportunities too. 

I don't know exactly how we got to this point. I'm not pretending to be bright enough to know what to do about it, either. BUT, I can still make a difference! Little ol' me. It is my personal mission to offer my own visits to the marginalized, whenever I can. As our time in Florida this season trickled away, I realized that it was time to contribute my energy. Cheryl of the ubber-popular blog, "Primary Graffiti" was willing to reach out to her principal for permission and then do all of the heavy lifting of getting an entire building organized. All I had to do was drive there and do-my-thing.

Here are the smiling faces that greeted me on her classroom door.  

I have to say that Cheryl's principal deserves some extra cheers. 

In my efforts to offer my "gift-of-benevolence" visit, 

I had two different building principals turn me down just this spring. 

Same thing happened last year: different state, same rationale. 

All have thought that any 'distraction' in the midst of testing 

would throw a monkey-wrench into the critical rigor of this high stakes evaluation-time. 

That's yet another rant.

Let's just be grateful that Cheryl's principal was delighted at the offer 

and knew that singing, dancing and interaction with a 'real' author would be beneficial -- even in the spring time!

I know that my readers like to look over my shoulder and see how other classrooms are organized. 

This earlier article continues to climb my Top-10 list.  

Though my time for taking photos was at an all-time low, 

I entered Cheryl's room with an eagerness to share what an organized room can look like. 

She probably has at least 185 ideas in her own room! 

Here are just a few of her classroom vignettes, 

captured while doing my utmost NOT to disturb her teaching time. 

Ready? Set...... GO! 

{Egg on face: I just realized that in attempting to give Cheryl 'credit' on the photos below, I have spelled the word Graffiti wrong repeatedly. Please forgive me.}

Take a look at the shelves immediately opposite the classroom door's entrance.

What a 'calming' sense washes over me,

when I walk into a classroom that has DESIGN at the forefront! 

Organization award for REALZ!

There's a place for everything...... 

and everything's in its place. 

We may have been separated at birth. 

When I taught Art, I had bins for my parquetry blocks per table, too! 

Now walk around the rest of the perimeter of her room. 

There is excellence and classroom organization pouring out of every corner!

She will have to tell you where her various bins and buckets came from. 

You need to go to her blog on a regular basis anyhow! 

The woman has a HUGE heart for children and knows how to set the bar, 

so that they can achieve their best....

even BEYOND predictions! 

Which just goes to show you that there are incredible teachers doing amazing work, 

in schools that are sitting in the midst of economic blight. 

There is always a possibility of excellence. 

No matter the 'location.'

Personal excellence has long been possible. 

Think of the movies you've seen where the teacher triumphs on behalf of the kids.

This team provides just such an environment! 

I had the opportunity to meet other educators in the building and they too were happy to welcome me. How I wish I had time to visit in other classrooms. True to a Floridian school design, every classroom opens onto a courtyard, and alas, there are no central hallways filled with art to capture and share. 

Here are the first grade preparations for Mother's Day. 

Integrating science, seeds, delayed gratification and flowers!

Cheryl wanted to see the "Wobble Seat" that we distribute in person.

So I brought an example of the 14" Kids Seat to take a test drive. 

We both felt that the white option might NOT be the best for heavy duty 

classroom usage over the course of time: wink-wink. 

But the driver of the wobble had a great time!

I am always amazed to see how soon the extreme wobbling settles into quiet rocking. 

This time was no different. 

We are now processing purchase orders. 

You ALWAYS get free shipping when you order a dozen. 

My hubby can figure out an exact quote, with specific shipping if you give him a call. 

Here's the tag for ALL of my earlier mentions of WobbleSeats 

and especially how you can write a Donors Choose project! 

Here are the two of us BEFORE all of the fun in the library gets underway. 

Those of you that have visited here before, 

KNOW my adoration for color. 

To be greeted by hand painted rainbows, on a raining day, 

really did make my heart go pitter-patter!

LUV LUV LUV LUV LUV LUV LUV LUV

Here we are..... all gathered together in the library. 

I enlisted NUMEROUS teachers to help.

They hold my books and turn pages, 

while I teach the sign language to support the song's lyrics/book text.  

Cheryl wore her official "PHOTOGRAPHER" hat well!

I don't have a photo of the two of us in action together. 

One of my favorite parts of every presentation, 

is when we compare my fabric quilts 

to the finished book's illustrations. 

The kids literally GASP when we compare the two --

and I never get tired of that!

This is my favorite quilt from my first picture book, 

"You're Wonderful." 

I integrate 'crossing-the-midline' in all choreography, whenever possible. 

I have written earlier about wiring the brain through movement in previous articles. 

Here's a favorite from the archives.

My three picture books are over at TeachersPayTeachers. 

Or get them DIRECTLY from my website! 

I rushed 213 miles directly BACK to our front door, 

since it was Tuesday, 

that meant Twitter Chat with my #TeacherFriends. 

How cool to see Cheryl's tweet arise in real time in my notifications

while we were busy chatting! 

She's right! That image will remain a FAVORITE for ages to come! 

Those kiddos are freezing their funny faces, fantastically, 

as part of the second verse in my crowd pleasing, 

"Jumpin' Jiminy." 

Two of my three books will be used repeatedly as teachers prepare to wind up their year with a performance for Mother's day or graduation. 

I have the songs in Mp3 format, available for digital download. 

Would you be willing to pin from this article? 

That's how people discover me! 

I would be so grateful for your social network share of choice!