Boy oh Boy!

I get a kick out of boys. I really do. My days are largely spent trying to convince 13 year old boys that schoolwork is an important component of their lives. (The majority of learning disabled kids are boys). I enjoy their enthusiasm for all things dirty, dangerous or leading to disaster. I enjoy their devil-may-care attitude that is a lot more swagger than substance. I appreciate their belief that all things can be fixed with enough courage and confidence.


In fact, just the other day, my school printer got jammed beyond belief. Luckily, I had a class of boys at the time. All ten of them crowded around the machine offering their opinions.

Open this, open that.
Pull this, pull that.
Its right here, it's over there.
We need a screw driver. We need to take apart this.

I let them have at it. (Stopping them only when the consensus was that complete disassembly was the only option). I figure that boys need the chance to work out problems. To fix things. To become men.

Unless of course my daughters are involved.
 Then I just want to put them in the dirt.
With my bare hands.

Soon after the printer incident, Lauren came home crying from school. After determining that she was physically OK, I began to question her. Two boys in her class had been tormenting her. One had thrown a ball at her head and called her "evil", while the other boy laughed and told her she was dumb. This isn't new. These boys have been picking on her off and on for a year now. I've offered to call her teacher, call the principal and call Aunt Michelle (the LIBRARIAN). I've even offered to send her big brother down to recess. But in third grade tattling is a capital offense. So Lauren just has chosen to suck it up and deal with it. I've had to break it to her that sometimes boys do things like that to get a pretty girl's attention. Especially when those boys are in third grade.

The thought of that fills her with utter and complete disgust.

The very same day, Syd came home from her softball game in complete disgust. A boy had just texted her to say, "You suck!" That morning the same boy had written on her book, "You are retarded and you smell." (I can assure you that neither is true...) She was irritated and wanted to punch him in the nose. Especially because it is known about the school that this boy likes her. A lot. So it seems that the third grade mentality is alive and well in high school. Come to think of it, when I was pregnant with Cade, Ryan thought it was funny to call me "Sweaty" instead of "Sweetie" during those long summer months.

I am happy to report that as he gets closer to forty, Ryan no longer calls me irritating names, thinking that he is funny. Probably because I would punch him in the nose.  But my poor girls...they still will have to endure those boys...

A Special Treat

You probably remember "J", the autistic boy that I teach.  He continues to tickle (and occasionally frustrate) me every day.  Autistic kids are known for their poor social skills and their inability to connect with those around them.  "J" often fits into this category.  He subtly leans away from you when you bend down to work with him.  He jumps if you touch him, and if you lay a hand gently on him, he will rub that spot when you move.  His verbal skills follow along these lines as well.  Ask him a question, and he may just repeat your words.  Or he may recite the lines from a movie.  In various voices.  Or, he may just answer your question.  You never know.

Today after Lauren showed up at my class, we went in the gym to check on the mega hot air balloon that the 7th grade is building (again).  James saw Lauren and skipped right on over to her. 

"Hi Lauren.  How old are you?"  he asked in his robot voice.  (I haven't mentioned that he currently wants to be a robot.  Or a dinosaur).

"Eight," was her reply.  They continued to have an awkward conversation for a minute.  Lauren and I turned to go, and James headed back to his spot near the stage.  As we went out the door, James came (literally) skipping and jumping back toward us.

Throwing his hands up in the air he yelled, "Love you!  Love you!"

Now, I'm not one to encourage sharing a lot of affection at school.  In fact, out of necessity for a specific group of kids, I have to limit affection in order to teach appropriate boundaries.  But this was not the time.  This was definitely not the time.  Sometimes, I believe that God lifts the veil just a little bit so that we can see directly into the hearts of those who can't speak for themselves.  With tears in my eyes, I turned back to look in "J" 's eyes.

"I love you too kiddo.  I love you too."

Life in a Small Town

I love my little town.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  I am so glad that I grew up here and I'm glad that I get to raise my kids here.  I love the summer sunsets, the color of monsoon skies, and the smell of fresh cut grass.  I love that my kids' first grade teacher is their Sunday School teacher, and that she attends all of their ball games.  I love the way people pull together in times of sadness, but also in times in happiness.  Truthfully, if I had to choose it all over again, I'd still pick St. Johns.

That being said....

Saturday I made out my grocery list for the week.  On the very top was "chicken".  I had planned a bunch of meals using the ever so simple chicken breast.  In fact, all of my meals used the ever so versatile chicken breast.  I had planned on going out of town to grocery shop, but Ryan had mocked me saying that he was certain Wilburs sold chicken.  But when I got to the meat aisle, there was not a chicken breast to be found.  Not a fresh one, not a frozen one.  I would have liked boneless breasts, but I could have settled for de-boning my own chicken.  It was not meant to be.  My whole week's menu crashed around me right there in aisle one.  I could hardly muster the energy to get milk, bread and eggs after that.

Needless to say, we took that trip out of town after all.

Retro Night

There's one thing I can say about Cade and his friends.  They aren't afraid of making a statement.  If that statement makes other people laugh, well then, that is just icing on the cake.  So when they found these old basketball warm ups in a locker room closet, they knew that this was what they wanted to wear for senior night.  They have always loved 70's and 80's music so the soundtrack for the night included "Smoke on the Water", "Slow Ride" and "Thunderstruck".  It's great to see the fans dancing to the oldies instead of covering their ears while the boys warm up for game.  I'm sure their dads (all alumni of SJHS basketball) must have been proud...

And a Little Child Shall Lead Them

Meet my pet rocks.  The son of a fellow teacher spent hours making them.  Hours and hours.  When he had a nice supply, he went around the school selling them for "whatever price you would like to pay."

Was he hoping to buy candy?  A new bike?  An Xbox game?

Nope.  He was earning money to send to Haiti.  The rocks were sold within a day.  And his mom sent a check for $98 to the relief fund.

Mathew 18:3   Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.

7 Questions to Change Your Life

I mentioned a while ago that I've been reading the book , "Change Your Questions, Change Your Life" by Wendy Watson Nelson.  Wow.  Wow.  Wow.

I can't even read the whole thing because every few pages I have to put the book down and think.  Deeply.  Every once in a while, someone will write something so perfectly that it just speaks to my soul. 

It thrills me.  It frightens me.  If I am to truly take to heart what she says, then I must act.  And acting requires change.  Change is not my strength.  But I also believe that things come to you when you need them, so maybe I am ready.

Let me share with you her first concept/question.  "What is on my premortal list of things to do while on Earth?"
She goes on to ask, "What were you born to do?  Why are you here on earth?  Especially now?  Why not twenty years from not?  Why not in the 1800's?  Why were you born or adopted into your particular family?  Why were you born into your race or nationality?  Why were you born at all?"  and finally,

"What is the wonderful mission for which I was went to earth?  What do I need to do to fill the measure of my creation?"

First of all, I'm a list maker so this calls to me.  Secondly, my favorite scripture story is the story of Esther with the question her uncle asks, "who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?"  And finally, it goes to my thoughts on Ryan's encouragement to Cade to""Do your job!"

Instantly, I knew that "teach children" was on my list.  I've had numerous experiences that have confirmed the importance of my work, but never with the idea that this may be what I am here to do.  Raising my own kids is (obviously) my first joy and priority.  But as I went to work the next day, I realized that each, "Good Morning", or "How was your weekend?" was a step toward fulfilling the "measure of my creation".  Suddenly a Primary teacher not showing up on Sunday wasn't a particular torment directed to make my life miserable, but an opportunity for me to get to know those kids a little better by teaching their class.  Such a simple concept has resulted in a major change of perspective.  Oh, I still complain.  Don't get me wrong.  But I am better able to realize that it is all a part of the process to help me become the person I need to be.

Over the past few weeks there have been other, more personal things that I have wondered about.  "Is this on my list?"  Some of them, well, I don't know.  Others, I am quite certain of.  Either way, it makes me excited to suppose that I've come "for such a time as this."

Next concept/question:  "What is the one question I most need to have answered from the scriptures today?"

I'll keep you updated...

Nerves of Steel

Or not...

We decided to skip the kids' games in Sanders today.  Twenty-four games in twelve days is more than I can take.  (8 out of the last 12 days have been filled with games.  Two each of those nights are Syd's freshman and JV games.  Cade rounds out the night with his Varsity games).  Anyway, Cade wasn't supposed to play.  His ankles are hurting, and the opposing team wasn't supposed to be that good. 

Well, best laid plans....

I got a text from my friend telling me that Cade's team was down and the coach had just put him in the game.  My nervous-mom hands started shaking.  (My guilty-mom did not kick in.  I'm THAT tired of basketball.)  I frantically started washing dishes and doing laundry.  It takes a real crisis for me to get moving on a Saturday night.  When I finished that I started to change the layout of my blog.  Then I prepared sharing time.  I even got dinner ready for tomorrow.

Less than an hour later, the team had won by nine.  Cade's ankles were OK.  My hands stopped shaking. 

If I could just harness that power, I think I could change my world.  But then again, that kind of energy is not worth it.  Just like a sugar rush, it wears off and leaves me ready for sleep.  But at least I'm going to bed with a clean kitchen!  And a happy kid.