Changes

I remember the first time Josh came wobbling over to me with a book in his hand. He climbed on my lap, handed me the book and looked at me expectantly. He couldn't really talk yet, but I knew what he wanted. We had read lots of books together before that, but I'll never forget that first time that he "asked" me to read to him. What fun times I have had reading to my boys. We have shared adventures through our reading and learned a lot about the world and each other. Our whole family loves to read and our house is full of books.

So I wasn't surprised last night when Josh came walking toward me with a book in his hand. He sat down beside me on the couch and said, "Mom, can I read this to you?" Not what I was expecting, but wonderful just the same. He has been reading for a while and has read to me often, but this time was different. He chose a book and came to me to share it. It was great. A little bittersweet, but great. It seems like every day Josh grows up just a little bit more. I cherish each moment, even the challenging ones, because with each moment that he grows up, I grow up a little, too.

Happy Day

On my desk at school sits a daily calendar. (Given to me graciously by someone who knows that I'm needing a few reminders these days.) You know, it's one of those that you tear a page from each day. The title is "5 Things To Be Happy About." Each day there is a list of 5 things that make someone, somewhere happy. Usually one or two are things that actually make me happy and then there are a few that I don't quite get. Like "a cat in a puddle of sun." I don't get that. I am so not a cat person. And "delicate swirls of lace." I don't think I own anything with any kind of lace, especially in delicate swirls. And "red grapefruit." Yuck. But today's page is a good one (parentheses added by me):

-throwing a surprise party (especially for someone you love)
-crayon boxes with sharpeners (64 count Crayola is the best)
-bunny slippers (fuzzy pink ones, of course)
-ornate calligraphy (on antique books)
-going to the movies with friends (chick flicks with sister chicks)

What's not to love? Any one of these would make me happy today or any day.

Have a happy day!

I Love (Cheap) Books!

I don't really like to shop. I grocery shop because I have to feed my family. I venture into the mall 2 or 3 times a year for school clothes and Christmas gifts. I go to Target once a month for laundry detergent and toothpaste. But yesterday, I went shopping. Kathy and I went to the Scholastic Book Warehouse for their annual clearance sale. (One of the perks of being a teacher.) Every book in the building was $1, $3, or $5. They had hundreds of titles available, and between the two of us, I'm sure we touched every single one. I bought books for my classroom, gifts for family and friends, books for home, and a biography of Mark Twain for myself. I bought calendars, cookbooks, games and toys. I bought books about school to make a basket for our school auction and an antique collecting book for my mom. We had a great time finding our treasures and trying to out-shop the other teachers who were there. (They didn't stand a chance!) Two and a half hours later I walked out with a box full of books worth over $200 for just $60. And if you ask me, that's the only way to shop.

Feuding 101

I just finished creating a presentation on the Hatfields and McCoys for my English class. I was given that topic for my project and was so excited and interested that I researched and wrote it all today. I won't send it for a few days though, so I can go back and re-read it. But, just in case you're not on top of your hillbilly history, here are a few things I found interesting.

1. The Hatfields and McCoys were peaceful neighbors for years. They socialized and intermarried.

2. The most vicious part of the feud was over ownership of a hog. Ole Randall McCoy said it was his. Floyd Hatfield said it was his. A jury of 6 Hatfields and 6 McCoys gave it to Floyd. (One of the McCoys was mad at his family making the verdict 7-5.)

3. Roseanna McCoy and Johnse Hatfield were the Romeo and Juliet of the Appalachian Mountains. Only Johnse wasn't a very good Romeo. He left a pregnant Roseanna after her brothers tried to kill him. (And then married Roseanna's cousin, Nancy.)

4. Dozens of bounty hunters who were sent in to calm the hostility between the two families disappeared without a trace. The National Guard was then called in by the governors of Kentucky and West Virginia.

5. 13 people from the two families died during the feud, but the patriarchs of the families lived to be 80 and 88.

6. In 2003, descendants from the two families gathered and signed a truce. (Just in case any of their pigs escaped the pen, I guess.)

Eng. 278

This week is my first week taking a class online. The class is American Literature from the Civil War to present. I was actually disappointed when it was full because I really wanted to take a literature class. But when I went back to put it on my list of preferred classes, there was 1 opening. I was so excited. (I know. Weird.) So I am in the process of reading the section comparing realism with romanticism and trying to determine which I am the most drawn to. Then I have to journal about it and read and comment on the other student's journals. Frankly, I'm not that good at commenting when I don't know someone. I guess I'll just have to pretend like I know them and be honest. And remember that sarcasm doesn't work well in writing.

(Next week we start reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I can't wait! Really. I'm not being sarcastic in case you couldn't tell.)

To Stay or Not To Stay

A few months ago, Josh was invited to a birthday party at Triple Play. On the way, he said, "Mom, you're not staying are you?" I sucked up my tears, took a moment to let the little tear in my heart heal, and much to his dismay, said that I was in fact staying because it was a public place and I didn't trust just anyone to watch him like I wanted him to be watched. But I assured him that I would stay hidden in the shadows and leave him alone. He agreed reluctantly. (Like he had a choice.) At one point though, during an exciting game of laser tag, he ran into a wall and hurt his arm. And where did he run? To me, standing in the corner. I wanted so bad to say, "See. You need me." But I didn't. I just hugged him, asked him if he was okay, and sent him back to the game.

This past weekend, he attended another birthday party at a friend's house. He again asked me if I was staying. This time, since I know the family and they were not leaving the house, I told him that I was not staying. I was so glad that he didn't cheer or sigh or anything. He just said okay. I guess everything turned out fine. He said the party was fun and his friend liked the gift he took and that his favorite part was playing with their cats. So, we both made it for 2 1/2 hours without each other.

And on the way home, with only the two of us in the car, we had a great conversation about school (how we'd both rather stay home), how many more years of school he has (15 including college), what he wants to be when he grows up (a teacher), how he doesn't think he'd want to be a doctor even if he didn't have to go to school longer (15 more years of school is enough), what we should have for supper (corndogs), and what his dad and brother were doing at home (puzzles and games). I guess that as long as there are these times for talking, I can give him up for a few hours of fun with someone else...just not very often.

Wrap It Up

Speaking of Arby's (from yesterday's blog), it turned out to be quite an interesting meal. When I walked in, there was only one other person in the restaurant. She was ordering in front of me and got her order to go. We spoke to each other about ketchup and straws and she made a joke about taking my order instead of her own. Okay, kind of weird, but not bad. But then in walked a woman that I knew would make my solo meal at least a little entertaining. I could just tell. And she did not disappoint. It took her about 5 minutes to order her corned beef wrap--only meat, no cheese, no lettuce, no sauce, nothing but meat. "The Jewish way." Whatever that means. She also wanted extra meat since she wasn't getting the cheese. So she got her order and opened it up right at the counter and was not happy because "last time it was bigger." The guy behind the counter explained that everything is the same, maybe it's just wrapped tighter. She had asked for it to go, but took the bag and sat down at the table directly in front of me. (The building is still empty, mind you.) Oh, and did I mention that she was on the phone the whole time. Not just the phone, speaker phone. The whole time she was ordering and paying and complaining, a person, whom I assumed to be her grown son since I could hear everything, was carrying on a conversation with her. So she sat down, still talking on speaker phone, and began, after further examination of her food, to eat. A few bites into it she jumped up like her seat was on fire and sprinted to the counter. "There's cheese on this wrap. I said meat only." "Where is the cheese, m'am." "Right there, you can see that there was cheese there! You must have put it on and then taken it back off!! I can't have cheese!!! I'm allergic to cheese!!!! And there was lettuce on it but I spit that out!! I just wanted meat!" "Okay, m'am. Sorry, we'll make you a new one." This one was made by one person and supervised by two more just to be sure there was NO CHEESE. And all this time, her poor son was still talking. Pretty soon, he said, "Mom. Mom. Are you there." He must have been used to it though, because just when I thought he had hung up, she came back and they started talking like nothing had happened. He asked her to get some extra horseradish sauce to bring home. They kept talking, and she kept cautiosly eating. She got up and asked for a cup and got some water, all the while loudly continuing her conversation with the phone still sitting on the table. Luckily, I finished eating and stood up to walk out, and just as I opened the door, she was up again and headed to the counter. And from the phone, I heard, "Mom, don't forget the horseradish."

Sisters

My sister gives the best gifts. This year for Christmas she gave me Cold Mountain (the book), the new Dixie Chicks cd (yeah!), Grey's Anatomy season 2 (double yeah!!), and a Regal Theater gift card (which we used on Christmas Day). All truly excellent gifts. But on top of all that, she gave me a cd that she made. I got tears in my eyes when I opened it just thinking about all the wonderful songs I knew were on there. I couldn't wait to listen to it, but I knew that to truly enjoy it the way it should be enjoyed, I would need to be alone. So, after several days of Christmas "vacation," my husband agreed that I should go out. (He knows me so well.) So I took myself to dinner (Arby's, but I like Arby's) and a movie (The Good Shepherd).

As I left for my evening out, I put in my much anticipated cd. On it I found a wide variety of artists and styles of music. I heard Jack Johnson, Dixie Chicks, Dave Matthews Band, Sheryl Crow and many others. It is the BEST CD EVER!!! Just as I got to the Arby's parking lot, a song about sisters by Dave Matthews came on. I sat there listening and crying and thinking about my sister and how when she laughs it fills my heart and when she cries I feel her tears running down my face, just as the song says. We have always been close, but lately it's been better than ever. We talk more and go to lunch and share all the things that sisters are supposed to. She has become an amazing, strong, smart woman. She is a great mother. And she is my best friend. It's hard to believe that this is the same person who would fight against taking naps and who would sing The Beverly Hillbillies theme song over and over and over just to bug me. Today she would gladly take a nap anytime, anywhere. And now that I think about it, she would still sing The Beverly Hillbillies theme song just to bug me (or make me laugh). I am so thankful for such a wonderful sister and the great cd. Not only is the music great, but her thoughtfulness lets me know that she loves me as much as I love her. And besides that, it's the BEST CD EVER!!!

Kaboom!

Today in chapel, our administrator was telling the kids about the change in collecting Campbell's soup labels. Apparently we need the UPC codes instead of the front label now. So in trying to tell the students what the UPC code is, he went into great detail about what it looks like, where it's found, how big it is, and what it's for. He told them how when the checker at the store ran the UPC across the scanner it told how much the can cost and what it was. Then he asked the question, "So, what makes that BEEP!...BEEP!...BEEP! sound you hear at the store?" Silence. Not even the teachers really knew what actually makes the sound. We just swipe our debit cards and hope for the best. But a student in the four year old class knew. He said, loud and proud, "A BOMB!!!" I'm not sure where his mother shops, but I bet the lines move quickly. You never know which can of soup may be your last!



P.S. One of my kindergartners has nominated "Rainbow" to be listed as one of the four seasons. Sounds good to me.

Cyber what?

Today is Friday. In Kindergarten every Friday is show and tell day, but in 1st grade, Josh's class, only the first Friday of each month is show and tell day. Show and tell is a big deal. The kids are so excited to show and tell about something important to them. (Or just to show and tell whatever they find in the bottom of their backpack if they forget.) So today, I remembered to tell the boys that it was show and tell day, and they went through Christmas gifts to find just the right thing.

Adam isn't much on public speaking, so he chooses not to show and tell. (He does, however, take a toy to play with after show and tell.) Josh, on the other hand, talks to everyone and makes a new friend wherever he goes, and has no problem with public speaking. Adam chose to take two fly wheels--one to play with and one to share. Josh chose to take the Transformer that Adam bought him for Christmas. It is a T-Rex that changes into a robot. Cool. But just as we got to the end of our road on the way to school, he said, "Oh, no, the cyber key." I knew exactly what he was talking about. I have transformed my fair share of Transformers and know that the cyber key is most important. You must have the cyber key, a quarter sized plastic disc with a little key sticking out one side, to open the secret compartment that allows you to shoot the hidden rocket. So, really, what good is the Transformer without the cyber key. I was late for school already and going back home, unlocking the door, getting the cyber key and getting back on the road would make me 4 minutes later. But show and tell comes only once a month. So I listened to my heart instead of my head and went back. He was thrilled.

I asked him at the end of the day how show and tell went. "Great," he said, "I shot the rocket a few times." All thanks to the cyber key and a mommy moment I can be proud of.

It's Official

It is now official. I know with even more certainty that I cannot believe everything that I read. I have been suspicious before when I read articles about people who couldn't have possibly said or done what was written--like in the grocery store checkout line when the cover of a "magazine" told all about the brawl between Jennifer and Angelina over Brad. (I'm pretty sure Jennifer could hold her own. She's stronger than she looks!)

But today, when I read the article on the front page of the Press, I knew without a doubt that what they wrote was absolutely untrue. The headline read "Stomach flu spreads through county." Umm, yeah. I know. I've had it. Then I began reading the article. And I quote, "The bug...lasts 24 hours." 24 HOURS!?!? Then what kind of mutant "bug" have I had for the last 7 DAYS ? That's right, 7 days. That's 144 more hours than 24! I have never in my life been as sick as I have been this last week. Without going into detail, let's just say that what I have been through I would not wish on anyone. (Except for maybe the Press staff writer of the article in question.)

In case you're concerned, I think I'm getting better. And if you don't get this bug, you can thank me. I've apparently had it long enough for all of us.

Leftovers

Here I sit in my new pink snowflake pajamas enjoying another day off. The last few days haven't been as busy as I thought they might be. Christmas Eve was busy with the afternoon spent with Arrty's side of the family and the evening spent with mine. But Christmas Day was very quiet. Mom left for W.Va. early that morning (2:00am) to be with her family who had called about grandpa being ill. He died Monday evening and I worried for her because she was alone on the train. I wanted so badly to hug her and wished that I was with her. She seemed okay when I talked to her. I think she was expecting it might happen while she was on her way.

Since she was gone, the rest of us were kind of lost. At least I felt like I was. Dad and Ada went to see "The Nativity Story" and our family went to see "Night At the Museum." It was weird going to the movies on Christmas, but we ran into several people that we knew and the movie was actually very entertaining. (Believe it or not, Robin Williams is a great Teddy Roosevelt!) Christmas night we continued our tradition of watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" and "A Charlie Brown Christmas."

And yesterday, we watched movies, put away gifts, ate leftovers, and enjoyed our little family. I got the kitchen cleaned including cleaning out the pantry, which was quite a chore. All three boys spent a while outside in the fresh snow. Arrty shoveling and the boys playing, of course. Last night, we watched "The Pacifier" which I got in my stocking. Amazing what a little Vin can do!

As I write, it all sounds very boring. But sometimes boring is good. Sitting and watching movies or reading is such a rare event in real life, so I want to take advantage of it in vacation life. One thing I want for the new year is a simpler, slower life. I guess this week is good practice. Now I'm off to organize the hall closet--one more step closer to that simpler life.

Whew!

It's here! It's finally here! The last day of school before Christmas vacation. The day teachers all across the country look forward to. I have discovered that (at least for kindergarteners) once the Christmas tree goes up at home, students couldn't care less about what "v" says or how much a nickel is worth. All they care about is the lights and the candy canes and the presents. They are much more interested in Santa Claus than Abraham Lincoln. (Who isn't!?!) So, the month of December is pretty much spent doing art and making presents for parents. And that, if it weren't for the kids being on fast forward, would be fine with me.

Another good thing about being a teacher at Christmas is the gifts. Today I got an angel pin, a pair of Christmas socks, a candle, 2 ornaments, some chocolate, and two gift cards to Michaels. I love everything of course, but the best part is watching a five year old's face when I open their carefully chosen and wrapped gifts to me. They are more excited than me!

But now, I am so glad to have 13 days off from school. 13 days to rest. Kind of. The next 4 will be spent getting ready for Christmas. Then the busy-ness of the holiday for 2 days. Then 7 days to rest. Two days which will be spent cleaning up from the holday, then 1 day spent cleaning the basement, and 2 days organizing for the new year, and 1 day spent at school planning for next quarter. Okay, that leaves 1 day to rest. But at this point, I'll gladly take 1 day.

Do Re Mi

Okay, I confess, I am not thrilled about directing the singing for this year's Christmas program. Last year I was so stressed about it that I was physically ill. I think it's a control issue, so this year I planned ahead and said no before I was even asked. But then about a month ago, it was discovered that no one was teaching the kids their 4 songs for the play. So, of course, being who I am, I agreed (a little grumpily) to do it. For the last three and a half weeks I have been teaching 4-12 year olds "The First Noel," "Joy To The World," "Away In A Manger," and "O Little Town of Bethlehem." They are actually doing quite well. Some of them sing off key, some sit there with a bewildered look on their cute little faces, some scream instead of sing. But, then there's a moment. A moment when they're all singing (mostly in tune) and looking at me and doing just what they should. And it's in that moment that I smile and remember that these children, God's children, are what it's all about. Next Tuesday, when their parents are sitting in the audience with cameras at the ready, they are not going to care if our C is a little flat. They just want to see their little angels (and shepherds and manger animals) on that stage waving at them and smiling. And singing, with all their might, the story of Christmas.

Christmas Past

I don't have very many mementos from my childhood. (Unlike someone I know who still has her Donny Osmond lunchbox from 1976!) I have the stuffed rabbit that my dad brought to the hospital the day I was born, the hope chest he made me when I was 16, the blanket my mom made for me when I was in grade school, and two Cabbage Patch Kids from the early '80s. And I have a Raggedy Ann doll. She is not your ordinary Raggedy Ann doll. She didn't come from a store and she cost very little. Her body is made from old beige sheets, her clothes are made from scraps of material, and her hair from leftover yarn. She has blue eyes and a big grin painted on for her face. On her chest she has a red painted heart that says, "I love you, Jen." I got her for Christmas one year when I was too young to know that store bought toys weren't a possibility. I didn't know and I didn't care. I loved that doll. But now when I see her, I see so much more than fabric and paint and yarn. I see my mom sitting up after I had gone to bed carefully cutting and stitching and painting even though she was tired from her long day. I see her hoping that this simple, hand-made doll would be enough. I see her loving me so much that she did her very best to make me happy with what she had. I see the woman and mother that I want to be. And this precious treasure that means so much more to me than any store bought doll ever could, will always help me see the true meaning of Christmas--that we love because he first loved us.

It's Snowing

It's cold. It's snowing. It's winter.

I knew it was coming. It's one of those things that happens every year, but you never know quite when. At least it waited until after Thanksgiving. We had about five inches of snow in the yard on Friday which worked out well because the boys played out in it for about three blissfully quiet hours. I read Redbook. I took a little nap. I did dishes without having to stop to make chocolate milk even once. It was nice. I even ventured out to take pictures of them all bundled up in their new boots and snow pants and rolling a huge snowball in the yard. They are so cute in their toboggan hats with pink cheeks and twinkling eyes.

And today it has snowed even more. Inch upon inch it piles up in the yard and makes me wish we had a fireplace to sit in front of. And surprisingly, I'm okay with it. (What could I do anyway?) I'll set out boots and gloves and hats for everyone tonight. I'll drink hot tea before bed to warm my toes. I'll get up a little earlier so I can leave early to avoid rushing. And I'll thank God that I live here, where the seasons show themselves so clearly and beautifully just as he planned.

Home At Last

Mom is back!! Thank goodness. I don't know if any of us could have made it much longer. I realized a long time ago that she is truly the rock on which our family stands, but having her be 2500 miles away for the past 24 days made that all the more clear. I am glad that she was able to spend some time visiting and caring for her parents. I know that they appreciate it and that she needs to do it for her own peace of mind. But, did I say how glad I am that she's home. My boys and especially my nephew have missed her. She is such a wonderful grandma and the boys just adore her. Josh kept count of how many days she was gone and how many until she got back. Needless to say, he wasn't thrilled when she decided to stay longer than planned. My sister missed her for many reasons, but mostly because she had to find alternative child care for my nephew who would rather be with grandma and has repeatedly let her know it. And I was beginning to worry about my dad. His frozen meals were almost depleted and the refrigerator was empty except for butter, ketchup, and some wilty hot dogs that I hope he didn't resort to eating. Sure, he went to the store, but all he bought was shrimp and the makings for hillbilly coolers. And I missed her so much more than I anticipated. She goes back east twice a year and spends ten to fourteen days so I really didn't think too much about this trip being any different. But when two weeks stretched into three, I began to realize just how much I was missing our daily phone calls and biweekly (or more) visits at her house. The older I get the more I appreciate her wisdom and love.
So she's home and we are all glad. We are all so glad for so many reasons. We have all come to understand a little clearer what she means to our family day in and day out. And besides that, we really didn't want Pizza Hut for Thanksgiving dinner!

W. Va.

I have been thinking a lot about my grandparents lately. Grandpa's health, physical and mental, is beginning to fail and since they are in my prayers, they are in my thoughts. When I was very little, we lived on their property only a minutes walk away. I remember the walk. I remember the house with the slightly slanted kitchen floor, the dark room where my cousins said the previous owner died, and the cupboard where grandma kept the marshmallow cream that she spooned out for me when no one was around. I remember grandpa working in his old shop and tinkering with old cars and old tools and his voice ringing with a mixture of fussing and gospel songs. I remember playing Slap Jack with grandma and usually winning. I remember sitting in a long line of cousins in their hallway on Christmas Eve enjoying our new Barbies and 64 count crayons. I remember catching lightening bugs and putting them in jars until bed time. I remember basketball games, crossing the rickety bridge, looking for crawdads in the creek, grandma's cornbread and milk, the school bus stop, the hills, the tadpoles, the flowers, the warm feeling I felt in the chaos that was family dinners, watching for rattlesnakes, the smell of Irish Spring in the bathroom, sitting on the front porch playing "guess the color of the next car that drives by," and my grandpa saying after he burps, "Not bad manners, just good eatin'". They watch Wheel of Fortune every night and every night grandpa questions whether or not they actually need Vanna White to turn the letters. I remember one night grandma rolling her eyes and whispering to me, "He says that every night."

When I was older and we moved away, the visits to my grandparents house became yearly events instead of daily. I grew and they grew and I felt like I didn't really know them. So one visit I decided to find out more about them. I watched them closely to try to get a sense of who they are. And I asked questions. I asked my grandpa how he met grandma. Instantly his eyes lit up and he told me the story about walking into a drugstore and seeing the most beautiful girl he had ever seen behind the counter. Since then they have been married for close to sixty years and have seven children and lots of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

One thing that I do know about my grandparents, even though I don't see them often, is that they love their family. They love all of us regardless of where we live or how often they see us. And because of that love, whenever we leave, grandpa won't say goodbye. He'll only say, "see you later," because he knows, one way or another, he will.

Chick Trips Rock

The Top 10 Things I Love About Chick Trips

10. Building lifelong friendships
9. Watching chick flicks with my favorite chicks
8. Mini road trips (even in circles)
7. Spending 55 solid hours with 4 of my favorite people
6. Solving the world's problems in my p.j.s over a cup of coffee, tea or diet coke.
5. Finding out that Trivial Pursuit is not trivial (TROUBLE?!?!)
4. Scrapbooking (or sewing or puzzling) with friends
3. Laughing about everything and nothing
2. Our mini church services (where two or more are gathered together...)
1. The chicks and the memories we share

Building Blogs

I remember when I was pregnant and all of a sudden there were like a million pregnant ladies in our town. Everywhere I went I saw at least five lovely, glowing woman in maternity shirts and comfortable shoes. I finally figured out at about month eight that it was probably just spending so much time in the baby department at Target that exposed me to so many who shared my condition. Or maybe it was just that I noticed them more because of our mutual situation. It was probably both.

The same thing happened about a month ago when we got a new car. Parker Toyota must have had a busy month because when I started driving my new minivan, so did twenty other families in Coeur d' Alene. Not only that, they all chose the exact same color as me! Okay, so maybe they already had theirs and maybe they weren't all shimmering blue. But before I drove mine I never noticed theirs.

Then Monday I was driving to NIC for my evening child development class when, to my surprise, the reader board was announcing the NIC SCIENCE BLOG. I thought that was pretty cool that the science department had a blog. I was wondering who wrote it and what it might be about as I drove closer to the sign. And just as I drove past, to my disappointment, I realized that it actually said NIC SCIENCE BLDG. Either their D needs to be a little pointier, or I had blogging on my mind. Oh, well, too bad for all those college scientists who will never know the joy of blogging.