My Springtime Peeps

Yesterday, Lauren and Mimi spent the day celebrating Spring Break.  They decorated sugar cookies as they discussed their favorite episodes of "Cake Boss".

They decorated their Chocolate Easter House (what else would you call this?) with the intensity of "The Ultimate Cake-Off". 

Can you tell we are watching way too much TLC this Spring Break?

I'm so glad that Lauren has Mimi in her life.  How lucky is it that her cousin is also her best friend?!

Today I went to a Funeral

I didn't know the man very well.  But I have worked with his wife for fifteen years now.  He leaves behind his wife and four kids, one who is still in high school.  His was a life ended too early by cancer.  While I celebrate that he is now free from pain, I mourn the family's loss of a husband and father.  When I walked into the viewing, I was overwhelmed by tears for the struggles they've had and the the ones that lay ahead.

As I waited in line to offer my condolences, I watched as the wife grabbed the couple ahead of me and with red-rimmed eyes said, "Love each other every minute.  You don't know how quickly it will go!"

And so,

Today I played Frisbee with Lauren, let Syd go for a cruise with a friend (even though she should have been cleaning her room), went for a walk with a friend, visited a great-uncle at the retirement home, and told my parents that I loved them.  I also did many many loads of laundry, got the mail, cleaned the kitchen, cleaned the bathroom and chauffeured kids around. 

I'll let you decide which group of those carries the most importance.  As for me I'm going to get off this computer, lay down by Ryan and ask about his day....

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.