Maternal Instinct

Be thankful for your mistakes. They will teach you valuable lessons.

It's been day 3 with my new blog! Sometimes I just sit and admire it. I feel the need to guard it and nurture it like a new mother.

In the office we have been having so many conversations about blogging. Using templates, blog rolls, tags, comments, analytics, and the list goes on.

Some of us are using Word Press. Others are using Blogger. After the initial amazement of my first post I have been trying out some tools that had been discussed. We had been advised that Bloggers couldn't use Google Analytics. They call me the queen of google so I googled... adding Google Analytics on Blogger and it sure looked like we could.

I counseled my podmate on how to proceed with this step by step process. She had a couple of small glitches but it actually went pretty smoothly. Now, with my pride a little unchecked, it was my turn. I spent the rest of the day trying to make this work. I was able to copy and paste the analytics code and add that to my blog. But when I went back to double check my work all Google Analytics would tell me is that there was and error, to try again later, and thanks for my patience. I even added a gmail account thinking that would help. Don't ask me why I just did. With my patience wearing thin I decided to "let it go" for now.

The next morning I was ready for round two. It was almost time for lunch. I decided to delete my gmail account. You can see the writing on the wall can't you? With one keystroke my child was gone! My wonderful sweet little baby was gone! I sat in my chair for awhile trying not to cry. I thought maybe if I said something out loud someone would provide me with some sympathy. They all were truly sorry for me.

Painstakingly, I began to recreate each and every piece of my blog. Within the hour I had it completed. The post itself was all that was left. I began to type, trying to remember each and every word I had used. I felt utterly defeated.

Like an apparition, the one lone follower to my blog walked by, mentioned something about checking my e-mail, and disappeared. With my heart pounding wildly, I made my way back to my desk.....................and THERE IT WAS! Only the words but my child was back! I jumped up from my desk and went running to look for my hero!

Now you need to know I'm not a touch feely kind of gal but I knew a hug was in order. In reality I probably needed one too. I found her headed back into our office and went to convey my gratitude. She grabbed me by the arm and said, "No way! We're going where everyone can see this! We hugged amid laughter and cheers! With my face 10 shades of Reavis Red, as they call it, I quickly made my back to my desk to restore my little one back to life.

My name is Michelle Reavis and I lose blogs!

Girls are Strong!

Girls are Strong! That is my mantra!

mantra: a sound, syllable, word, or group of words that are considered capable of "creating transformation"

I had spent almost 25 years as a custodian for a small school district. I took pride in my job and the fact that I could do almost anything by myself. There would be times that I needed help. It was a K-8 school so there were always plenty of boys that the teachers would allow me to take off their hands. Then one day I heard the "voices!"

Along came the Power Puff girls! I had a group of about 8 girls chosen to help me set up for the annual Grandparents Dinner. 20 tables and 160 chairs. After the dinner was masterfully set up I gave them each a small goodie bag of Power Puff girl items and a speech about how Girls are Strong and that they could do anything they set their minds too.

From the first time I let the girls help the experience took on a life of it's own. One of my favorite stories was with my best friend Sharon. she worked as the "lunch lady" at the same time. She had gone home to see her Daddy, who was getting older and on his own at the time. He had a drain that would frequently get clogged. On her arrival he told her of the drain. She looked at him and standing there with her super powers ready to go she declared, "Girls are Strong Daddy! We can do it!" She couldn't wait to tell me the story!

At the time I was also the mother of 2 very young girls. I had just gone through a divorce and knew I had to teach my girls the same message. So as they grew and looked to me for direction with cruel friends, boys, or school I would hug them and say, "Girls are what?"

Sometimes the answer came quietly with tears in their eyes. Other times standing strong and boldly proclaiming............."STRONG!"

Then the tears were mine!

I still continue to use my mantra on my daughters, their friends, my friends, and now my granddaughter! Isn't it strange how a silly cartoon can come to mean so much?