May Your Christmas Be All YOU Wanted It To Be

We all have our favorites at Christmastime. Some people enjoy listening to Christmas music on the radio...constantly...starting before Halloween...and stopping sometime after Easter...if we're lucky. I am not one of those people. Other people look forward to shopping in crowded stores the day after Thanksgiving. Others might look forward to the homemade eggnog and sugar cookies. Some people can't wait to open presents! Others are happy just making sure those around them are loved. The point is, we all have things we do that make the holidays what they are.

And now to the real point I'm getting at.
A kindergartners idea of a good time at Christmas is not often the same as say, a middle-aged high school choir director's idea of a good time.

To prove my point, I shall recount an event that happened a few years ago.

Every year at my school the local high school choir comes and performs Christmas songs for the kiddies. Now, I may be a bit prejudiced about my own high school's talents, but I think it's safe to say that this high school choir doesn't win many awards in competitions and such. But they try hard and they're not too terrible. Besides, the kids don't know the difference and they think it's pretty cool to have "big kids" come and sing to them.
The problem is this: The high school choir director's idea of good Christmas music is slightly different than 5, 6 and 7 year old's. Every year the choir comes and sings song after song of slow, religious songs. I don't mind the occasional slow religious (and sometimes Latin or German) song. What I do mind is ALL the songs being slow, religious and yes, sometimes in Latin or German. Kids like to hear songs they know. Songs they can sing to. Songs like "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" and "Frosty the Snowman" (even though no kid actually knows the words to that song except "Frosty the Snowman was a hmm hmm hmm hmm hmmmmm...With a corn cob pipe and a button nose and two eyes made out of coal. OH, Frosty the Snowman! hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmmmmm....)
Back to the point...
A few years ago the choir came to sing to the kids. After what was probably the 6th slow religious song, they started in on the 7th song. It was, of course, slow and not kid-friendly. That's when I heard a little, but definately not quiet, voice from among the kindergarteners say "Not again!" (Picture a little kid sitting cross-legged on the floor, with their chin in their hands, looking very very disappointed.)I tried to stiffle my giggles as the teacher tried to shush the noisy, honest, tell-it-like-it-is kindergartener.
I guess the real moral of the story is: Know Your Nigel, people. Know Your Nigel.

I've Been Sorted

The sorting hat says that I belong in Hufflepuff!

Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot, and treat them just the same."

Hufflepuff students are friendly, fair-minded, modest, and hard-working. A well-known member was Cedric Diggory, who represented Hogwarts in the most recent Triwizard Tournament.

 

Take the most scientific Harry Potter
Quiz ever created.

Get Sorted Now!

Regardless of who I relate to, my true colors show up in Hufflepuff. But, it was almost a three-way tie.
I'm 81% Hufflepuff, 78% Ravenclaw, 76% Gryffindor, and 45% Slytherin. (Take THAT Voldy!)
We can't all be brave Gryffindors. And frankly, I like it that way. :)

Elf Yourself

'Tis the season to be jolly and/or elfy.
I recommend you all go to this site and check out my elf family and then create your own. You know, cuz it's Christmas time ...and stuff.

Aaaand Now He's Scared of Me.

So, I took the Harry Potter Personality Quiz. When I got my result, I had Zack guess who I was. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Guess who I am!
Zack: Hermione!
M: Nope.
Z: Dumbledore.
M: You are WAY off.
Z: Snape?
M: Think more... evil.
Z: Lucious?
M: No.
Z: Draco?
M: Nooo. You're not thinking evil enough.
Z: (Pause.) But there's no more evil people.
M: (No response, just the knowing smile and wide eyes.)
Z: (eyes grow big and I think I see signs of fear) REALLY?
M: Does that scare you?
Z: A little...

So yeah, I'm THAT evil.


Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.
Now I'm wondering how our marriage has worked all these years considering he just took the quiz and he's Molly Weasley?

Tagged

I have, up to this point, failed to respond to any tags I've been given. Hopefully this makes up for all of those. A tag a year keeps the... tag ...monster ....away....or something.

What was I doing 10 years ago?
I was in my freshman year at college. But exactly 10 years ago I was with Jeff at the Shelley's just hanging out. (Thank you Journal.)

What was I doing 5 years ago?
Zack and I went up with the fam and we cut down our first Christmas tree.

What was I doing 1 year ago?
Zack, Danny, Rachel and I were at the hospital playing games with Jeff. That will probably be one of my most fond memories of Jeff in the hospital (if you can have a fond memory of your brother going through Chemo treatments). We played "Malarky", "Masterpiece", and "Family Feud" where Danny tried to cheat by using the made-up word "stupendous." Silly Danny. Everybody knows that "stupendous" isn't a real word.
We laughed so hard that we cried. It was nice to see the old Jeff again.

What was I doing yesterday?
Driving home from the cabin with Zack and the puppies and stopping by my parents for dinner. Mmmm Sunday roaast.

5 Snacks I enjoy
Craisins, sunflower seeds, Cache Valley string cheese (everything else is just CRAP), bananas, cookies. Cookies count as snacks!

5 things I would do if I had a million dollars
I'll let you know when it happens. But rest assured, I'm already thinking about that terrifying possibility.

5 Places I would run away to
The Cabin. Mom and Dad's house. Mike and Jodie's house. Kim's house. Danny and Rachel's house...I mean piece of land... They would all take care of me if I decided to run away. And then they'd call Zack to tell him where I was so he could come get me. What a sweetheart. :) (Don't worry, Zack. I'll never run away from you. Ever. I'm just a little too dependent on you.)

5 T.V. Shows I Like
The Office, Scrubs, King of Queens, Today's Special and The Polka-Dot Door.

5 Things I Hate Doing
Folding socks, staying up so late that my stomach hurts, washing walls, making people feel bad, going back to work after a long vacation.

5 biggest joys of the moment
Zack, My family, My friends, Zack, My family.

I'll tag (you knew it was coming didn't you?) Allie, D'Nell, Shannon, Sharlene, and Angie (if she feels like writing about herself instead of books. I'm okay either way. :) )

Creative Minds With Turkey Time

If you have a child who is or ever was in elementary school, inevitably you have some sort of home-made holiday decoration they made in school. I'd almost bet money that at least one of those decorations is made out of construction paper and glue. I'd bet even more money that one of those decorations is made out of a cut-out of your child's hand. Am I right?

As a first grade teacher, I feel it is my DUTY to carry on the holiday hand-decoration tradition. I'm even considering making a hand-decoration for every month of the school year, I'm THAT dedicated to the cause. Last month we made bats. This month.....

we made turkeys:

Aren't they just too cute? I pretty much just let my kids go with their own creative imaginations when it comes to doing art projects. I do give directions and I walk around and give help and ideas, but when I see a child doing something that isn't perfect I don't step in and change it for them. I think the way a child does artwork shows a lot about who they are and where they are in that stage of life. With these turkeys I did try and make sure they glued the hands (aka. feathers) on correctly. When we were all finished and the glue was dry, I realized I didn't quite get to all of them which is why a few turkeys looked like this:

Personally, I think this one is aaaaawesome.

This little guys is apparently using his feathers as some sort of hide-out.

And then there's always that one. I think I'll call this one "The Ghost of Thanksgiving Present".

Cat Food

Have you ever had one of those really good conversations with some people where everyone is excited and talking and happy and you're all talking about something interesting where everyone has something to say and everyone shares a common viewpoint and you just feel accepted and loved and like anything you say to these people will be accepted and loved as well? And in the middle of it all you feel like you can tell these people almost anything and they will understand you so you blurt out some comment like "Sometimes I eat cat food..."

...and they all stop talking and stare at you and you realize maaaaybe I should have kept that part of my life hidden, or better yet, maybe that's not something I should have been doing in the first place?

Well, I haven't. But one of my students had that moment yesterday.

Sometimes EVERYthing Is Funny

My classroom isn't the most quiet, most structured room in the school. I just don't like being the dictator that demands silence when the kids work (unless it's necessary). I don't like robot kids that only do what they're told (most of the time). That means sometimes my room is a little noisy. I think it's healthy for kids to talk while they work, as long as it doesn't keep them from DOING their work.
Today my kids were working on a sequencing activity. We were making pictures of the sequence of lunchtime. For those of you who have forgotten what grade school lunch is like, the sequencing went like this: First, we line up. Then, we get our trays and eat lunch. Last, we go outside to play.
My kids were busily illustrating the lunchroom scene. There was the usual amount of talking. One table in particular, however, was doing more than talking. They were practically in tears, laughing. Another group of kids noticed that table of kids laughing and one of them said, "What are you guys laughing at?" One of the laughing kids, amidst his laughter, said, "We're saying funny stuff!"

I moved a little closer so I could hear what was soooo funny.

Here's what I heard.

"Dr. Phillin!" (Waaaa ha ha ha!)
"Bolden black hair!" (More peals of laugher.)
"Brown armpits!" (AHHHH HA HA HA HA!!)
"Brown pears!" (They were practically on the floor.)
"Brown belly button!" (This one nearly sent them over the edge. I wasn't sure if they were going to make it.)
"Dr. Enwald!" (I apologize to any Dr. Enwald's out there. Apparently your name is hilarious.)

Ah, those were the days. When a single word could send you into fits of laughter. I'm glad those days aren't only reserved for 6 year olds.

As Long As It Has a Time Limit

Tonight I needed to mop the floor and do other various cleany things around my house. I'll admit, I'm a staller. If I can find a reasonable reason not to clean, I'll probably do it. (Reasonable reasons include "I don't have enough time to clean what I REALLY want to clean so I might as well not do anything", "we're taking the dogs up to the mountains and they'll get the house dirty so we might as well wait until we get back", "I'll do it on Saturday when I have all day", "I'm tired", and "I don't feel like it".)
But tonight I couldn't think of anything else to do. I really needed to give my floor another smell other than it's current smell of "I have two dogs". I didn't want to clean. I wanted to be lazy. So I had to resort to the method my mature self uses to get my lazy, immature self to do anything: I gave myself a time limit. I said, "I'll just clean everything I can for 20 minutes and then I can stop." When I do this I usually end up cleaning for at least an hour. I know this fact when I give myself the time limit. I just need a jump start. I need an out in case after 20 minutes I'm still not in the mood to clean.

Tonight worked like most other nights. I ended up cleaning until I HAD to stop and go to a family thing (Family night where my favorite quote of the night was: Dad: "And who gives us the gift of the Holy Ghost?" Answer from the almost two-year old: "ME!")

Why do I need a time limit? I think it has something to do with the bad thing having an end. As I was cleaning, I started thinking about other things I "endure" because I know there's a time limit. Being alone. Pulling weeds. Parent/Teacher Conferences. Uncomfortable parties where I don't know anyone. Missing family members. Cars broken down on the freeway (I honestly tell myself "This will be over a week from now. Somehow this will have all been taken care of a week from now...")

Come to think of it, a lot of my happiness is based on the hope that all bad things will eventually go away. And that has it's base in faith and trust- good companions when you're going through a tough time. Somehow they can even help us feel happiness in the midst of the unhappiness.

Spontaneous Crayon Propulsion

In high school, my brother and I thought it was funny to yell "spontaneous propulsion!" and then smack somebody. It's the act of something being propelled, spontaneously, against our will. Obviously. It was science. Who can control science?

I never knew that this theory would come back to haunt me years later.

The other day I had my class working on a project. As many projects in first grade do, this one involved crayons. During the project a student came up to me claiming that someone, we'll call him "Treven", threw a crayon at her. When I looked across the room at Treven he immediately said, "She's lying! I didn't do anything!". That's my favorite line. All I hear is "It was MEEE!"
His guilt was also compounded by the fact that three other students from his table were all pointing at him and saying things like "He threw it. " and "I saw him do it.".

When "Treven" continued to contest his innocence I humored him by asking, "If you really didn't do it, then how did that yellow crayon get clear over to the other table?" You know, he could have said something simple like, "I don't know" or something clever like "That's not my crayon." But no. The quick-thinking child said, "I was just sitting here, looking at those other guys (his malicious accusers), when a crayon just flew over my shoulder and hit her."

And there we have it. Who can argue with science? Spontaneous propulsion strikes again!

In My Dreams

Zack and I "talk" to each other at work via AIM Express. In other words, AOL. It's the only thing the school district's computer system will allow. It blocks every other form of instant messaging. MSN, Google Chat, you name it. But not AOL. That little demon somehow makes it's way onto every computer and then infests itself deep inside the recesses of the computer's mind, never to be deleted. Which is why we don't have AOL installed on our home computers. But demon virus-like software that allows me to communicate with my hubby is quite nice on my computer at work.

Anyway, that's how we communicate because I do not have a cell phone, nor do I have a phone in my classroom. (That's a whole 'nother issue.)

It's nice to chat with Zack when the kids are at recess, or when they're at computers or music or P. E. and such. It's also nice to type in messages at random times of the day, knowing Zack will get them the next time he's around his computer. It's also nice to get random messages from him while the kids are practicing their hand-writing or doing some other thing they can do without constant teacher surveillance (which is not much).

This afternoon, as I was getting ready to go home, I typed a message to Zack that went something like this:

"i'm going home now. i don't know what to have for dinner. my current thoughts are: strawberry and whipped cream crepes (in my dreams), breakfast for dinner, tuna casserole....um, i can't think of anything else. my mind is blank."

Then, after writing the traditional "kso kso's" I logged off and went home. Zack got home about 5 minutes after I did...with strawberries and whipped cream.

I really didn't expect him to go get that stuff for dinner. It was just wishful thinking.

What a sweetheart. In his words, "If I have the chance to make your dreams come true, I'm going to jump at it."

The crepes were delicious.

(By the way, this is not a really nutritious meal. If we had kids I'd totally throw a plate of broccoli in there...or something. )

Extra-Ordinary Things

Once in a while you find yourself being aware of extraordinary moments taking place in very ordinary settings.

Take tonight, for instance.

Zack and I were at Men's Warehouse so Zack could be fitted for a tux for our friend's wedding. We are both really really excited for this wedding. This is a good friend that we've both had for almost a decade. In fact, he's the one who inadvertantly introduced us. He's getting married next month to an amazing girl that is the only girl who could make him truly happy. And he deserves to be truly happy. So, like I said, we are really excited for this wedding. And we're just really happy for him.

Back to Men's Warehouse. As I'm sitting there, watching the lady measure various sizes of my hubby's body, (I believe at one point she asked, "Where is your belly button?" Whaaa...?) , all at once I see the whole picture. Someone is getting married. And in our belief system, this is for eternity. This will be, perhaps, one of the single-most important events in his entire lifetime and for the rest of eternity. If you look at the big picture, and I mean the BIG picture, there are only a few times you can label as significant events. And it's happening here. On this earth. And Zack's getting fitted for a tux so he can look his best to celebrate this moment. And I see the significance of it all. I see how important the tux is. It may be just a fancy black suit. But there's more than that. So much more.

And so, as I sit on a chair in the store, watching my husband prepare for this wedding and imagining all the preparations that have been and will take place before the big day, I see something extraordinary happening. And I'm excited for it.

And Then There Were Four

Presenting one of those creepy, weird family photos of a couple and their dogs. At least the dogs aren't wearing clothes.

Zack and I have debated for a while about whether or not we wanted to get another dog. Maxwell has been such a good dog for us. We weren't sure if we were asking for trouble by introducing someone else into our totally functional one-dog family. We kept going back and forth. Would Maxwell get jealous? Would they become best friends? Would it change his behavior? Would he help with her behavior? Would he become more aggressive? Would he get more exercise? Would the new dog chew on our furniture or our shoes? We've been pretty lucky having a dog that only prefers chewing paper, plastic, and small stuffed cows. Why would we want to jeapardize our perfectly happy one-doggy home?

Why, indeed.

Maybe we got bored with how well things were going. Maybe we missed the sound of tiny paws going pitter-patter on the kitchen floor. Maybe we're gluttons for punishment. Maxwell hasn't been causing us any problems for the past year and a half, perhaps we should drop a potentially huge bomb on him and change his idealic puppy-pampered world forever. Or maybe we just wanted to take care of another living something, since our future kids seem to be on their own eternal schedule instead of our mighty earthly one.

Whatever the reason was, we did it. We got another puppy.

I was kind of on the fence about the decision, even after we paid for her, even after they called and said she would be arriving the next day (we got her from Pennsylvania, the same place we got Maxwell), even as we were driving to the airport. But as soon as I saw her, I knew we'd made the right decision. Here's my first view of her after Zack picked her up from the Continental baggage claim at terminal 1.

She's so tiny!

I don't have a lot to say about little McKay (It was the cutest girl-sounding name among the prophets and apostles. "Uchtdorf" just didn't have the right zing...). All I can say is that she's exceeded all of our expectations so far. After three days she was peeing on command. And as of this afternoon she's going to the door to let us know she needs to go outside to poop. Yes, she's a miracle dog. She likes Maxwell, she doesn't whine at night (as long as she can see us), she stays when we tell her to stay, and she lays down like a bunny just like Maxwell does.

Maybe it's because we're a lot better at being puppy parents the second time around. Maybe it's because Maxwell is a good influence on her. Or maybe it's because she's just a good puppy.

One day after we got her, we took her up to the cabin. While there, we tested out her leaping capabilities. She did quite well.

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Heat

I have an old school. It was built, I believe, around 1952. It's been through it's share of renovations- they've added on 6 classrooms and a few years ago they redid the entrance so it actually looks like an entrance. When I came here to interview 8 years ago I thought I was entering some back door that the custodians use. But no, it was the entrance.

Being built so long ago, most of the classrooms have air conditioning. I, however, am in one of the classrooms that were added later. I have no air conditioning. The temperature outside is currently 92 degrees. My classroom is at a balmy 85. Let's add 20 kids. First grade teachers don't sit when they teach. They are constantly moving. So, my room is 85 degrees, there's 20 other bodies in here and we're all moving around. My only saving grace is the fact that today is early out and the kids went home at 1:25. I get to stay until 6:00. That's when Back to School night starts. Then the room will fill with 20 or so adults moving around. I can't wait. Right now I really really really want to go swimming. Really.

First Grade Adventures: Day 2
Today we didn't have to focus so much on rules. We actually got some work done! Pre-assessments begin. We do a page where the kids copy me as I write "My name is (fill in your name). I am 6 years old. I like (then they write something they like)." It's very informative for me. It shows who can copy words, what kind of handwriting they have, and it shows if they can write something on their own.
Later that day we did a shapes assessment. First graders are supposed to identify and draw the following 8 shapes: circle, square, triangle, rectangle, rhombus, trapeziod, parallelogram and hexagon. I gave each student a piece of paper and had them draw each shape. Most of that assessment came back blank. I wonder how many adults could draw all 8... Yeah! Stuff to teach!
Tomorrow's pre-assessments include writing a story, writing the numbers to 100, and matching a number to it's number word. Should be fun.

Rules Rule for the Day

Try 20 short strangers.

It's not their fault, being short and all. They're only 6.

The wait is finally over. Time to jump back into the hectic, fun-filled days of school. The 80 folders are laminated and cut out. The name tags are in place on the tables (or were this morning). The room has "magically" transformed itself from this:

To this:

The palm tree full of parrots, each parrot lovingly bearing the name of a short stranger, is posted on the door. The pencils are sharpened. The tables are labeled along with the crayon bins, and the glue and scissors bins. The books are sorted. The calendar is up. The dragon is in it's place once again, perched atop a bulletin board where it's been perching for the past 7 years. Though he once was a nice bright green he's faded to an ideal greenish-gray dragony color.

The names are on the coatrack. The bin labeled "Class Books" is empty, waiting to be filled over the next 9 months with stories and tales of a new batch of first graders.

A whole new group of kids with unique personalities, but yet somehow exactly the same as every group that's come before it. A whole new group of kids who believe that they're the sole inventors of the rhyme "Step on a crack, break your mother's back".

They're finally here. 20 new strangers who will soon become the focus of my life. 20 new kids who are excited to go to school but also scared about what they'll find. 20 new kids to convince that they're smart and talented and capable of anything.

I'll try and give an update about each new day of school so you, the reader, can experience first grade all over again. Happy happy joy joy.

Day 1: OVERLOAD

The kids are pretty much overloaded with information today, whether I try to stop it or not. Everything's new. There's so much to remember. They have to learn how to eat breakfast in the room, where to throw away their garbage, where to sit at their table, where to sit on the rug, when it's okay to get a drink or go to the bathroom, where to get that drink and where that bathroom is, which doors to use at recess, and that's just naming a few of the things they have to learn.

Not to mention all the rules: recess rules, breakfast rules, sitting at your desk rules, sitting on the rug rules, raising your hand rules, walking down the hall rules, using the balls and jumpropes rules, lunch rules, talking rules, raising your hand when you want to talk rules (this takes about 180 days to learn), cleaning up the room rules, reading a book rules, passing out crayons, pencils, glue or scissors rules....it goes on and on.

I try not to go over everything on the first day. I try to just get them acquainted with me, the school, and the classroom.

But it's impossible to ignore the rules!

We do a simple art project where they make a picture of themselves and we have to go over scissors, glue and crayon rules. We have to go over how to clean up and what to do when you're done rules. I read a book to them and we have to go over sitting on the rug rules, listening to a story rules, and not talking when the teacher's talking rules.

They're not rules, they're just routines, but it makes no difference to the kids right now. I'm the teacher telling them what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. Right now it's ALL rules. Later it will be second-nature.

But today it's rules.

So some of them stop listening. It's too much. That's when we take a break, put on a jiving CD and play "Freeze Dance". But in order to play, we have to learn....THE RULES! (Freeze Dance rules, by the way, are: 1. No running. 2. No talking. 3. No touching of others. 4. If the music stops and I catch you moving you are out. 5. You MUST dance when the music is playing. 6. Have fun.)

There's no escaping the rules! Especially the rule to have fun.

At least, that's the way it goes in my class.

San Pedro Sula: The City

We got a taste of everything in Honduras. We stayed in the city, we stayed in the mountains and we stayed on the beach.

We stayed in the city first. This was a good thing. We saved the better things for later. Here's a shot of us on our first morning in the city.

The city itself is kind of small as far as cities go. There aren't too many tall buildings. But there are paved roads. Once you get outside of the city, say 5 minutes or so outside, you come to dirt roads. Here's a typical street in the city:

And here's a typical street in the "suburbs".

I was a little shocked by it all. I guess you don't really understand the terms "poverty" and "third-world country" until you actually see it with your own eyes. I found myself asking Zack specific questions about his living conditions on his mission while we were there. "So, did you have a floor where you lived?" "Did you have windows?" "Plumbing?" "What was the square footage of your apartment? (Apartment: Shed in the back of a lady's house.)

We pretty much just drove through the city. I didn't feel safe just walking around. We did go to Gaumilito which is a market of sorts. It's where the Hondurans go to get souvenirs. And where we got some real steals on some cool stuff!

After a day of the city we decided to cut our city tour short and head to the mountains a day early. Which we did. And we made a wise choice. I'll get to that later. After our mountain tour, we had to go back to the city to catch a plane. While we were there we decided to go to McDonald's. Sometimes you just need some familiar food. Here's a picture of the handicapped parking there:

In case you can't discern the sign in front, I took a close-up.Exclusive parking for pregnant ladies ....aaaaaand cleaning ladies.

Then we had to stop at a gas station to fill the rental car up with gas and that's where I saw THIS little gem on the side of a truck.

Okay, so they're trying to sell chicken here. I understand that they're showing you how you can use their chicken to have a fun family barbecue. Soooo, why is there a clown at the barbecue? I don't know what Hondurans think about clowns, but if a clown showed up at my family barbecue and just made himself at home with our chicken, I think I'd have nightmares for a long time after. I think I'm worried about having nightmares after just looking at this picture.

All in all, I am really really glad I got to see San Pedro Sula. It's a beautiful city and has some wonderful people.

Things I Like: The Post-3rd-World-Country-Vacation Version

In the USA:
1. Drinkable water from a faucet.
2. Brushing my teeth without using a bottle of water.
3. Getting a drink of water from a public drinking fountain and not worrying if it's going to make me violently ill for the next 2 days.
4. Clean streets.
5. English.
6. Companies that care about my business.
7. Airline pilots and flight attendants who explain why we're waiting on the tarmac for 30 minutes...and who would explain why they sent you inside the airport for 45 minutes and then bring you back out to a different plane and have you sit in that plane for 20 minutes before you take off in the middle of a lighting storm late at night. ...and they don't leave your baggage outside in the middle of a torrential rainstorm.
8. Mosquitos who don't possibly carry Malaria.
9. Floors I can walk on with barefeet without having to worry about germs...and stuff.
10. My family...even though half of them are spread out across the country and other spiritual realms.
11. Parents who watch my puppy for 6 days and don't hate me for it.
12. Neighbors who volunteer to take my mail and newspaper before I even ask them.
13. Friends who watch my puppy for 4 days and treat him like a godchild.
14. Brothers who stay up until after midnight to pick us up at a crowded airport.
15. Who also is thoughtful enough to bring a gallon of milk when he picks us up because he knows we won't have any for breakfast in the morning.
16. Cheerios with said milk.
17. Spaghetti. Real spaghetti with meat sauce and cheddar cheese. Not fettucini noodles cooked in Chef Boyardee sauce and topped with mozzarella.
18. My bed.
19. My house.
20. My country.

In Honduras
1. Seeing where my hubby spent 2 years learning to love serving the Lord.
2. Driving through lush green mountains in a warm rain storm.
3. Meeting people who love my husband and remember him for his hard work.
4. Feeling a familiar feeling of warmth and family with people I've never met and knowing I could feel that feeling no matter where I go in the world.
5. Playing cards games in our balconey as we watch the taxi drivers on the street below...and being a safe distance from said people below.
6. Finding the coolest picture to hang on the wall in our basement.
7. Flying 400 feet above the rainforest on a wire.
8. Doing that 15 times.
9. Hot tubs in the rain.
10. Giant Ceiba trees...I mean kapok trees.
11. Security guards who moonlight as horse guides and don't overcharge us to take us up on his horses to see Mayan ruins.
12. Frogs in the middle of the road!
13. Crabs (and Cheetos bags) in the middle of the road.
14. Flying over the rainforest in a tiny airplane and seeing how beautiful my hubby's adopted country is.
15. Spending a day on the beach doing nothing but playing games and eating churros.
16. Being brave enough to go SCUBA diving.
17. Not having to go SCUBA diving ever again.
18. Scooters on an island!
19. Geckos who live in our cabana but don't have the guts to show themselves.
20. Doing it all with Zack.

Guilty Pleasures...at Home

I have a few guilty pleasures when it comes to being a domestic hero. Although I admit they are guilty pleasures, I do not have enough guilt, at the present, to quit them. I like them. They make me happy. Hence the name midget head...I mean, guilty pleasures.

Guilty Pleasure #1: I buy paper towels. I'll sometimes use one as a napkin. This is shameful as paper towels are much more expensive than your average napkin. I also use them to clean stuff. It's wasteful, I know, to carelessly use a paper towel when I could very well use a dish rag or towel. But I don't like laundry. Either that or I'm lazy. Or maybe it's a combination of the two.

Guilty Pleasure #2: As well as using paper towels to clean stuff, I went even farther and bought Clorox Wipes. I use these to clean my bathroom. It's a real pleasure to clean the counter and then throw the "rag" away. It's an even bigger pleasure to clean the toilet and throw the rag away.

Guilty Pleasure #3: (And, I might add, the greatest and guiltiest of them all.) I buy birthday cakes...from the bakery. I was taught the frugal way to have cake as a child: Buy a mix and a container of frosting. This costs maybe 2 or 3 dollars at the most. It's the most cost-effective way to do things. It's what we all should do. (We should all take cake decorating classes so we can learn to lavishly decorate our cakes with flowers, ribbons, caligraphy, and Alf.) But I love the store-bought cakes from the local grocery store. As my cousin would say, I HEART them. Especially the chocolate ones with chocolate frosting. So, my guilty pleasure is that I will willingly pay $15 for a cake instead of $2 or $3.

That's all for now. I would add more, but my fresh, homemade meal is almost done. I made it all from scratch and that's the honest truth....today.

What are your guilty pleasures?

For All Your Scratchy, Rough, Uncomfortable Needs

So, I've spent, roughly, the last 7 hours on the computer. I'm a little computer brain dead and my wrists are threatening carpal tunnel. So I'm not in the mood to write about my 4th of July right now. But don't worry, I will fill you in on the splendid details at a later date.

Right now my thoughts are on the commercial I saw a few days ago as I was folding laundry. (Yes, I still watch T.V. on the rare occasion. One of those times is when I'm folding laundry and need some NOISE.) I saw a commercial for, and I quote, "New! Tampax Cardboard!"

Say whaaa?
Is it just me, or does anyone else feel the need to cringe?
CARDBOARD?!! Now I do understand that cardboard goes into the making of these items, but it's not a real selling point, is it?

I can picture the men in the board room right now:
Board Room Guy President: "We need a new product in our line of tampons. Something new. Something women will like."

Smart Board Room Guy: "Well, I think women really like a product that absorbs well."

Smarter Board Room Guy: "Hey, I've got it! Cardboard's pretty absorbant. Why, when I'm working on my car out in the garage and I need something to keep my oil from spilling on the cement, I use a big old piece of cardboard. It really does the trick!"

Reeeaally Smart Board Room Employee: "Say, Herb, you've got a point there. Cardboard IS really absorbant!"

Herb: "Yeah! And the best part is, we're already using it in our tampons! But I don't know if women really KNOW that. We need to come up with a new product that really shows the cardboard off."

(High fives all around and big raises coming in the near future...)

I'm A Grown-Up?

When I was a younger version of my current self I would often wonder what I would look like when I was "a grown-up". I wondered how I would act and what I'd do. Just what would it be like to be "a grown-up"?
Since then I've learned a few things about being a grown-up. One requirement for achieving this status, that no one can escape, is time. You need time to grow up. In the eyes of the land, 18 is the official age of "grown-up". I'm sure many of us know 18 year olds who we would firmly declare grown-up. And I'm sure there are many of us who know 18 year olds who are FAR from that status.
For me being a grown-up implies that I can take care of myself. I can do things. Not only that, I can do HARD things.
It also means I can manage myself, my time, my energy, and my health. The epitome of being a grown-up, I imagine, is when you have to do that for someone else, namely, children of your own.
Today being grown-up meant that I went to the dry cleaners.
I currently own one dress that needs dry cleaning. I've managed to avoid cleaning it for the past (ahem) 5 years. One fateful Sunday last summer when it was 100 degrees outside, it was my day to teach in Relief Society, we decided to walk to church that day, and I forgot deodorant finally put my dress "out of commission". Since then it's been in my closet, stuffed on a shelf in a pile of "clothes that I need do something extra with besides wash and dry them". This pile doesn't include ironing. I have separate, special pile for those things.
Then, a few months ago, we were at a family thing where we were all in our Sunday clothes. While Zack was holding one of the little tykes (who shall remain nameless) the monkey managed to leave a damp spot on his suit pants.
When we got home I promptly put his suit and my dress in a new pile: "Stuff to be dry cleaned soon." I even put the pile in a conspicuous spot so I wouldn't forget to do something with it. That was three months ago. The pile has remained intact, though it has been moved occasionally when company came over. Don't worry, when the company left, I remembered to put the pile back in it's official spot on the banister.

I've been putting it off because, to put it in D'Nellie-esque fashion, I'm kind of scared of dry cleaners. Today I decided to just do it. With encouraging words from Zack who said I could put minutes on my emergency phone and talk to him the whole time (Thanks SOOOO much, Sweetie. I know you feel my pain.), I set off. I had visions of a tiny, cramped looking shop with a no-nonsense Asian lady behind the counter busily doing ...something dry cleaning-ish. Don't ask me why the lady was tiny and foreign. Maybe I've watched too many Seinfeld episodes. Anyway, for some reason I was nervous to go. But I went.

I pulled up to the dry cleaners and walked inside the large spacious room where a teenage girl smiled from behind the counter. I confidently put the items on the counter and said, "Hi. I just have these four things...er, items." She asked for my name and number and told me how much it was. I tried to look nonchalant as I pulled out my check card. I've done this a hundred times at least. Used my check card, that is. She gave me my receipt and said my clothes would be done tomorrow at 5:00. I said thanks and as I was walking out the door I glanced to my left at what appeared to be the other half of the shop and was startled to see myself. Duh. I was looking in a mirror. My reflection looked exactly as I felt: someone who wasn't a teenager, but who wasn't a "grown up". I had a pinched, almost mean-looking expression on my face. That's my look when I'm concentrating on something or when I'm nervous. (I won't say it hasn't come in handy at teenage dances when someone asks me to dance and I don't want to. What appears to be indifference and meanness is really shyness and fear. But at least I look strong, right?)
As I was pulling out of the parking lot, right next to an intersection, a car slowed down so I could pull out in front of them. I said "thanks" out loud and gave them the "courtesy wave". And there it was. I was a grown-up. I gave someone a courtesy wave. Only grown-ups do that. Success! And, also like a grown-up, I'm picking up my dry cleaning tomorrow. I think I'll try and squeeze that into my conversations between now and then so everyone else will know how grown-up I am. "It's been great talking to you, but I've got to run. I have to go pick up my dry cleaning before they close. You know how those places are, if you leave your things...er, items there for more than a day they lose them..."

Dare-Devil Dog

I didn't know my dog would be a dare-devil, excitement-seeking animal when Zack and I decided to buy him. He was friendly enough at first- playful and happy. We soon found that he was afraid of anything new, strange, or loud. He doesn't like fireworks. He doesn't like strange objects left on the floor, and he doesn't like tight spaces. He's slowly overcoming his fears as he grows accustomed to his world. He was afraid to go down our stairs at first. Now he bolts down them with no thought that his feet could at any moment slip out from underneath him and send him sprawling, head-first, to the bottom. He is unafraid of a few other things also. He's not afraid of a ball coming straight for his head. He merely stares, curiously, at it until it smacks him in the nose. Then he tries to bite it...a little too late. He's not afraid of running head-long into cement steps. He's definately not afraid of the basketball.
I've found out recently that not only is my dog not afraid of things now, but he likes creating exciting, tense-filled situations.
Let's talk about vacuuming. Maxwell loves it when I vacuum for some reason. It's like it's his oppurtunity to prove how fearless he can be. He'll jump in front of the vacuum and then spring away as it comes near him. (He used to bark at it and run away. I guess he's overcome his fear.) He'll do this almost the whole time I vacuum. When I'm finished, it's as if the pride of winning the tournament-- Maxwell VS. The Vacuum-- gives him renewed energy and he spends the next 2 or 3 minutes racing around the house until I send him outside.
Well today I was vacuuming the living room when Maxwell ran in and placed his precious chewed-up cow on the floor, right in the path of the on-coming vacuum! He stood there tensely for a minute, until the vacuum was inches away from his Precious, then he snatched it up and ran away. He came back to try it again seconds later.
I guess now the thrill of putting himself in danger isn't enough. He must risk the life of his precious cow in order to get the thrills he needs to survive.

Why I Love Summer

I love summer because it means that today I was able to go with Zack to work and help out with a project he's working on.
It means I could go spend some time with friends until all hours of the night and not worry about the time or how much sleep I was going to get and so I could just enjoy myself. (I'm weird about getting enough sleep when I have to work the next day.)
Not having to worry about the time meant that I could focus all my energy on the game and how I was going to win!
It meant I could focus on good friends, good conversation and incredible food.
It means that when I come home around 11:00 pm and find my backyard strewn with power tools and my living room full of wires because Zack is working on another project for work that I can stay up and help him with it (or at least keep him company).
It means when he says things like "I wish I could stay up until 2 in the morning and just finish this project...but I don't have all the parts," that I can say things like "Let's go get them. Work is only 5 minutes away. It'll only take 20 minutes or so." (Even though it's midnight.)(By the way, he's munching on your salsa while he works, D'Nell...and he loves it.)
It means long nights, short mornings, and fun afternoons and evenings.
It means I can work on all the projects I've been planning over the past 10 months.
It means I don't have to do any of those projects if I don't want to.
It means being able to go see my mom any time of day.
It means doing what I want, when I want, and realizing I need to develop more self-control (and maybe install bells inside my house so I know when I start cleaning, when to stop, when to go to recess, when it's time for P.E....).
I'll start working on that tomorrow. Tonight I'm keeping my hubby company.

Road Trip: Father's Day

This past weekend we ventured across the entire great state of Colorado to visit Zack's dad for Father's Day. The drive takes roughly 11 hours from point A to point B, if you don't take any breaks. We decided to take our puppy with us on the road (since our puppy-sitters decided to move out of STATE for the summer and couldn't watch him for us). We left on Friday around 10:45 and set off.
"It's always fun to go on a road-trip," said the girl with no children.
We get a few books on tape or CD to listen to. We bring all the good music CDs. We bring our handy little cooler and fill it with healthy snacks and water. We bring our favorite games (Cribbage, Phase 10 Dice, Yahtzee, and this time I also brought alone some game cards from a game I found for $1 at the D.I. It's called "30 Second Mysteries"). We were set. Because we were bringing our puppy we also had to bring along his food, doggy dishes, doggy stain and odor remover (which we never had to use. Good boy, Maxwell!), bones, toys, Maxwell's blanket, and the doggy gate. Good grief! I can't imagine taking a child on a road trip if that's what it takes to bring along a dog.

So like I was saying, we left at 10:45. We drove for all of 45 minutes when we hit gridlock in Utah County. Neither of us thought to check the traffic report before we left. "Say, what if the freeway is shut down in American Fork because a truck carrying a freakin' mobile home crashed and spewed mobile-homeish debry over all 4 lanes?" Luckily, we were only detained at a standstill for all of 20 minutes.

Maxwell enjoyed the ride a lot. He loves going on car rides. (Even after the 11 hour car ride his ears would still perk up when we said the word "drive".) We made a nice little home for him in the back complete with his blanket, toys and bones. However, his favorite place to relax was on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Maxwell sleeping next to his "lucky cow". He recently ripped it's neck open and lovingly pulled out most of it's stuffing.

Maxwell also enjoyed sticking his head out the window when we had to slow down for some road construction between Grand Junction and Vail.

Here's a better shot of the scenery.

We stopped in Green River for gas and a puppy-potty break, (way to poop right in the middle of the cement where the cars come in, Maxwell! Who'd want to poop on the side where the weeds, bushes, rocks and lack of people and cars are?) and to switch drivers. Zack drove us to Vail where we decided to finally stop and get something to eat (around 6:00 pm). We decided against Micky D's and got a pizza from Domino's. We ate it on the grass and mingled with the summer ski bums. It was a nice break. We didn't stop again until we were outside of Denver and wanted some ice cream. Then we drove the last leg of the trip through "wide open spaces" full of wheat, corn, and miles and miles of no civilization.

We decided to listen to one of our books on tape, "Black Beauty". We'd both read the book when we were younger and seemed to like it. Basically it's 6 hours of "how to take proper care of a horse" in story form, given from the perspective of a horse. We liked the book, but our favorite part was what we listened to at the beginning of the first tape. The instructions on how to "fix" a tape that wasn't working. This is what is said, and I quote, "Should a cassette fail to play properly, hold it flat in the palm of your hand and slap it smartly against a hard, flat surface." We couldn't help but start laughing. We had to play it back a few times to really understand what to do. Here's the visual we got:

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We arrived in Burlington around 10:30, just shy of 12 hours. Once there we had a good time visiting Zack's dad, playing games, and of course, "hiking" the famous Longhorn Trail.

So, is the head of the trail the Comfort Inn or the Pizza Hut on the other side?

Amid all the excitedment I didn't forget to give Zack his Father's Day present: "Night at the Museum". He and Maxwell both enjoyed watching it.

I also got to talk to my Dad on the phone and wish him a happy Father's Day. I had to wait in line, though. He was already talking to my brother who lives out of state. Out of five kids, he had to talk to three of them on the phone because they were all out of state. What happened to you family? You used to live close.

Reading Readiness: "Find the _____" Game

Inspired by my sister-in-law whose daughter knows all her letters and sounds and is ready to read, but just doesn't understand what it means to "put the sounds together to make a word".

"Find The ________."

This is a game you can play with your child once they have learned all their letters and sounds. It's a fun game that helps them recognize the sounds in a word and will help them as they begin to read CVC words (Consonant-Vowel-Consonant).

Choose a CVC word, such as cat, dog, hat, cup, etc. It needs to be a word that has a distinct beginning, middle and ending sound. (The word "cow" wouldn't be a good choice because the o and w sounds come together to make the "ow" sound.) I'll use the word "cat" to explain the game.

Find blocks that spell the word or make three cards with one letter written on each card. Hide them in a room.

Tell your child you are going to play a game called find the "cat". Show them the letters that make up the word "cat", emphasizing each sound. "This is the cat: (make the sounds as you point to the letters) C, Aaaa, T. These letters make the sounds we hear in "cat". Your job is to find the letters and put them together."

Have your child go on a "cat" hunt. When they find a letter, ask them what part of "cat" that letter is. "Is it the beginning of cat? C? The middle of "cat"? Aaaa? Or the ending of "cat"? T?" Make sure you make the sounds of the letter instead of saying it's name.

Put three pieces of paper in a row for them to place their letters on once they have found them. You can even explain what the papers are for. "These are where we're going to put the letters once you find (or catch!) them. Help them put the letter in the right place on the table when they find it.

After they find all three letters, help them point to each letter and make it's sound to say the whole word: "C-aaaaaa-T".

You can add more to the game by having them draw a picture of a cat, color a picture of a cat, or find a picture of a cat once they've found all the letters.

This is just something I thought of yesterday while I was driving around running "errands", so if it's dumb or doesn't make sense.....tough.

How I Learned All My Moves

I come from a dancing family. Actually, to put it more accurately, I come from a dancing mom, mostly. I grew up thinking that everyone dances in the living room with their mom and siblings. Didn't you do that as a child? Didn't we all stand on the fireplace hearth with a coat hanger-microphone/guitar in hand singing to the Beatles? Or was that just me...? I sure hope not. I spent many hours of my childhood listening to records (yes, records) and tapes of the classics: The Beatles, Pseudo Echo ("Won't you take me to a FUNKY TOWN?" Didn't everyone's mom exercise/dance to that tape?), and of course, Don McLean, who we only listened to for one song and one song alone: "American Pie". I think if you asked any of my brothers today they'd still know all the lyrics to that 8+ minute song. For kicks we used to put the record on the "fast" setting (I didn't know the technical term for it then and I don't pretend to know it now) and sing the song at hyper-speed in about 3 minutes. I didn't know what a "levy" was at the time but I did understand that someone did indeed drive their chevy to it only to discover that it was dry. I had no idea what the lyrics were talking about, but who cared? The song was AWESOME! It still is.

I think I love music AND dancing simply because I did it with my family. We had a lot of fun in that living room. My mom taught me a lot of moves, they may have been moves from the 60's, but they're still cool. And because I danced at home I wasn't afraid to dance at school or church. (Not to mention all the wicked moves I learned.) This past weekend we took a short trip up to "The Cabin" for a day of playing and birthday party celebrating and 4-wheeling and such. We only stayed one night, but we managed to pack a lot in. We even got a little dancing in. It's nice to see that my mom is teaching the next generation all her great moves. And it's equally nice to see that my niece has got some RHYTHM. (Und ya, ve vere dancing to das Beatles...in GERMAN.)



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The REAL Tragedy of Puppyland

Many of you (okay, maybe just D'Nell) have been anxiously awaiting the blogging debut of "Tragedy in Puppyland". Alas, I have bad news. Although I have the said movie on my computer, I cannot find a way to post it on my blog. It's too long for dropshots (over 2 minutes!) and it's too big for youtube. (It's freakin' 811 MB!!!) If anyone has any ideas on how to post it, I'm more than anxious to hear them.

On a happier note, at least I have the movie on my computer! I also have other choice selections such as, "Monkey Band" (my personal favorite), "Evil Hannah", "The Silence of the Barbies", and "MoonBathers" (another classic).

A few lesser known films such as "AlphaWars", "Pakistani Hair Salon" and "The Fire Problem" are also on my computer. However, their content is so painful that I don't dare let anyone view them. If, I mean, WHEN I become more Adobe Premier savvy I might take little bits out of those films so that those of you who are in them can view your best selves (Heather, Janan, Dan, RaeAnn...).

This is also a call to those of you who might know the whereabouts of "Bermuda Flight 911" and "Cleetus vs. The Asteroid". Where are they? I haven't yet searched my massive VHS graveyard, so they could be in there.

As soon as I get ahold of all of these movies, I will put them on a DVD and sell it to the WORLD!

Because I know many of you miss all these treasured home movies, I will leave you with a few quotes.

Which quote goes with which movie? A treat for whoever gets the most correct! An extra treat if you can name who says each quote.

1. "I'm so lonesome! I girl named "Princess" shouldn't be lonesome. I need a puppy, or a prince...but a puppy would be nice!"

2. "We found the barbies!!!! ...but everyone died!"

3. "We'll give that cheese-eatin' surrender monkey trainer a run for his money!"

4. "Ya betta believe he's a bum-muncha!"

5. "Como?"

6. "The moral of the story is- Don't be a spankin' monkey."

7. "Ah ha ha! You are now in the dungeon. And soon, after two weeks, my GUN will take over the WORLD! Wah ha ha!"

Pig's Feet

So, a few months ago I was reading Daring Young Mom's blog and noticed on the left-hand side the words "Undiscovered Pig's Feet". I ignored it. Probably an add. Probably some inside-joke. A while later I decided to click on it to see what it was. I'm so glad I did. :) (It's nice to see that my friend's spouses could turn out to be better friends than they were...no offense Dan! But you have to admit your wife is freakin' hilarious.)

Here's what she did:

While shopping one day she noticed pig's feet on one of the shelves. She decided to buy it and put it in her pantry. Long story short, it took Dan a few days to notice it was there. She invites all who want to, to try this experiment at home.

Step 1: Buy the pig's feet.

Step 2: Place them, at eye level, in a common spot in your pantry or on your shelf.

Step 3: See how long it takes for your spouse to notice them.

When I went to buy the pig's feet I discovered another tasty delight on the shelf next to it. I bought them both. I took them home, doctored up the latter a bit, and placed them on the shelf.

I was a little paranoid that first day. Every time Zack opened the pantry I would try to act normal, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, secretly snickering under by breath about the hilarity of it all. Secretly worried that he would find them the instant he opened the pantry door.

Nothing happened. I decided to try what Sarah did and place them in an even more conspicuous place.

Just one day shy of three full weeks of anxiously waiting for a reaction, I heard Zack open the pantry door and yell "Aaaah! Why do gross things keep appearing in here?!"

I guess the day before he had noticed the "Rotted Meat Food Product". The next day he opened the pantry and noticed the pig's feet. Why he didn't notice both of them at the same time I do not know.

What I do know was that that was a lot of fun. I enjoy a good, non-threatening trick now and then.

For those of you who want to try this trick at home, who have tried this trick at home, or who may have a bottle of pig's feet in the fridge, I found a nice recipe for the tasty trotters.

PIG'S FEET

"This traditional Irish dish of braised pig's feet and vegetables is often eaten after a night at the pub." (No kidding, usually eaten after a night at the pub? You mean, after you're DRUNK? Is anyone else not surprised that they eat pig's feet in England?)

INGREDIENTS:
6 pig's trotters (from the hind legs)
1 onion stuck with 6 cloves
1 carrot
1 bay leaf
12 peppercorns
Salt
1 bunch parsley
1 sprig thyme
PREPARATION:
Combine pig's feet, onion, carrot, bay leaf, peppercorns, salt, parsley, and thyme, in a heavy pot or Dutch oven and pour in water to barely cover all.
Gently bring contents to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for at least 3 hours. May be eaten hot or cold. Yield: 2 servings

Enjoy!

Little Reminders

Today I cleaned out the cars. This gets done, roughly, once a year, usually right after school gets out. While I was cleaning out my car I found two reminders: a piece of plastic that broke off my car and a piece of an old pink balloon.

I'll start with the balloon. I've rediscovered this piece of balloon in my car for the past 5 years. I keep it as a reminder.

Five years ago Zack and I were happy-go-lucky newlyweds. We lived in an apartment that we thought was fabulous. Zack was finishing his senior year of college and I was in my 3rd year of teaching. At the time, I was carpooling to work. Every morning I would drive over to Behhhcca's apartment and we (and another girl) would drive up to Clearfield. We traded off driving every week. The week of Valentine's Day it was not my turn to drive. So my car sat in Behhhcca's parking lot every day that week.

Enter clever Zack!
He spent Valentine's Day writing little notes and blowing up balloons, enough to fill my car. When I got to Behhcca's apartment after school I found a car full of balloons. I had no choice but to pop the balloons right then because I couldn't drive home otherwise. Zack had thoughtfully left a pin for just that very purpose. I spent the next 15 to 20 minutes popping balloons and reading little notes.

Months later, as I was cleaning out my car, I found part of a balloon that didn't get cleaned up with the rest of the balloons. It made me smile and remember how sweet my husband is. So, instead of throwing it away, I decided to keep it in the car.

So, today as I was cleaning out my car, I got to stop, smile and remember how sweet my husband is again.

And now the plastic...
The piece of plastic from my car reminds me of how much I have learned and how much I still need to learn.

Years ago Zack had to have some minor surgery. We were engaged at the time. I, being an incredibly naive and selfish girl, wasn't sure if I was going to go be with him at the hospital the day of the surgery. In my mind we weren't yet married, he had a mom, and mom's were supposed to take care of their kids, right? I'd take care of him once we were married, right?
I didn't yet realize my "role" as the fiance or wife. I do now, thank goodness. (My role is now to protect and do everything for my husband. Nobody better hurt him (including me), try to tell him what to do, or undermine MY authority as the wife...)

Zack seemed hurt that I wasn't sure if I was coming to the hospital. (DUH.) Thankfully, I talked to my mom about it and she, in not so many words, said "Of COURSE you should be at the hospital!!!" Sooo, I went. In fact, I picked him up at his house to take him to the hospital. I had him drive. (I know, I know. I was a jerk.) He was so nervous driving there that as he was trying to pull the sun-visor down he broke a piece off of it. I keep that piece. It reminds me of how much I didn't understand then.
When Zack came out of the anethesia later that day, he wanted to see me. Me! I guess I didn't realize until then how I fit into his life. I came before everyone.

That piece reminds me how much my husband loves me. It reminds me how insensitive I was before we got married and reminds me to not be that way anymore. It reminds me of how sweet Zack is to put up with me and all the dumb, insensitive things I do. It reminds me to be a better wife.

I Don't Pay Well

This being the second day of summer vacation, in the year two-thousand and seven, I being 29 years of age and having nothing better to do with my time, decided to go forth and organize my closet. My hall closet. The one at the end of my hall. The only closet I have besides my bedroom closet and my coat closet. I know. I need more closets. Closet is really starting to look like a strange word right now.

Anyway, this morning and for the past 200 or so mornings my closet looked like this:

There are other shelves, but they don't need any make-overs. They're full of stuff I don't use that often so they never get out of place. (extra sheets, blankets, ...cleaning supplies)

Since I was in the "organizing mode" (I was not in any mode. I didn't want to organize anything. I wanted to be lazy today. I was tiiired.) I decided to organize the bathroom drawers, too. They looked like this:

And this (respectively):

I couldn't wait to get started (I didn't want to start at all. But I had nothing else to do. Well, there was a ton I could have done, but I didn't want to do any of it. This seemed like the easiest of my options.) I went over to the local Tarjay and bought some bins. Bins I love. Bins I love because they are way cheap ($1.39!!!) and because they are sturdy and because they were the right size.

I got home and worked my magic (I took almost 2 hours to pull the contents of 2 small drawers and 2 shelves and put them into bins. I even brought a chair in from the other room so I wouldn't have to stand. I'm that lazy.)

Behold what I have done!

I feel good now. I've done something productive today. And to top it all off, I found a cool $1.28 AND a 2 pound coin from England. (You know what that means, ladies! We need to go to London!)

I don't pay myself so well.

It's a snack revoLUTION!

Thanks to some people we know, who shall remain anonymous, Zack and I ended up with THIS last night:

Actually, this is not all of it. The plate used to be full. We ate some (a lot) for lunch.

Thanks to the people at Village Inn, we also ended up with this the other night:

This plate used to be full, too.
Why did they have to have one pie left? Why? This is, as Zack would say, THE best pie in the world. I'm not sure what's in it exactly. Dark chocolate cookies, dark chocolate mousse, chocolate whipped cream, a layer of chocolatey goodness that shall be unnamed, and chocolate sprinkles. It's called the European Truffle pie and is thankfully only around once a year.

What I'm getting at is that we eat treats. We like treats. We buy them or make them often. We are addicted to treats. Mostly chocolate ones. And cookie ones. And doughnut ones. And cake ones. And, in Zack's case, ice creamy ones.

So last night Zack suggested we do something about it. He said we should put healthy snacks in little 'snack sized' baggies that are easily accessible for to eat. So today, on my FIRST day of summer break, I bought LOADS of healthy snacks and put them in little baggies. We will now have snacks to last A LIFETIME!! MWAAAA HAAHA HA HA!!!

But really, we have a ton of snacks.

We have these:

First of all, I know what you're thinking. That my chicken basket is awesome. It's a chicken AND it's a basket! A chicken-basket! But focus. Inside the brilliant chicken basket are healthy snacks! Apples, oranges, dried fruit, nuts, trail mixes of all kinds, pretzels, and even sunflower seeds. And they're all in little snack-sized pouches. And inside the pantry there's a box full of those same snacks so we can replenish the healthy chicken. There's also a note mentioning the snacks that are hiding in the fridge:

Carrots, peppers, yogurt and string cheese.

Honestly, it's so healthy in there I'm starting to feel sick. When Zack came home and found the snacks he was very excited. His words were "This stuff looks so good to me! And it's good FOR me! ...most of it. We are so going to skinny-up!" He's never used the term "skinny-up" before. I think what he means is "we will be more healthy now".

But honestly, after making all those snack bags, all I really want are some potato chips and cottage cheese (don't knock it 'til you've tried it) and the rest of those peanut butter fingers. (Keep 'em coming anonymous family that lives in grandma's old house! We love them! We'll eat all your leftover goodness!)

Signs That The End Is Near

While I was making what I hope to be my final copies of the year, I noticed this sign posted on the bulletin board in the copy room:

First I read it as if I was my 2 year old niece. "Papoh ah gon. It ah gon." This is reminiscent of the time we were sitting in church and my 3 (almost 4) year old niece wanted some crackers. My 2 year old niece, who was holding a HUGE bag of crackers, clutched the bag to herself and said "It ah gon, Pay. (That's how she says her sister's name.) It ah gon."

Perhaps they could have put a few conjuctions in the phrase. THE paper IS all gone.

Then I read it as if it came from one of my student's writing stories. "Paper ran go away."

Let me explain...

At the beginning of the year my principal informed me that I was going to have a unique student. He was Japanese. He and his family had just moved from Japan two months ago. Only the dad spoke english. He chose for me to be this boy's teacher because I had been to Japan the year before....for 10 days....so I was highly qualified.

For the first two months or so, my little Japanese student sat, stared and listened to all that was going on in class. He would watch what the others were doing and follow along. He would make hand gestures to the other boys when they played. We learned some Japanese phrases which made him smile when we'd try to pronounce them. I learned how to say a few things in Japanese to "get the point across" on the assignments. I had my trusty "English to Japanese" phrase book with me. We all learned how to write a few characters in Kangi.

He knew how to say "Teacha, can I go za bataroom?" and "Watah, please, teacha, watah?" (Bathroom and drinks are VERY important.)

Due to what I attribute to very diligent, hard-working, caring parents, he began to thrive in school. There were a few incidents when he would get frustrated and cry because of communication issues at recess. I'd send home notes to his dad who would try and figure out what happened. And then he'd send me notes back. We have a journal full of conversations.

The first story my Japanese student wrote in class made me very happy. It was humorous (for a first grader this can be rare). It followed a pattern. It was all in english, a language he only started learning 4 months ago. This kid is SMART.

Here it is in his words:

"Man is eat a cheese but cheese ran go away.

Boy is eat a steak but steak ran go away.

Woman is eat cake but cake ran go away.

Man is cry boy is cry and woman is cry.

Everyone is cry."

I did help him re-write it with correct grammar so the final product sounded something like "A man wanted to eat some cheese, but the cheese ran away." I like the original version best, though.

The class thought it was funny. Now that he's more comfortable in class, can converse more and knows how things work, he is a very outgoing boy. Everyone loves him. He makes jokes even III laugh at sometimes.

He is now one of the top readers in my class. He has always been the top math student in the class.

And he has changed the way I think. Now I read signs like the one above: Paper ran go away.

I like it.

They Say It's Your Birthday!! It's My Birthday, Too, Yeah!!

Today is your birthday. We didn't get to tell you Happy Birthday, but we did the next best thing and tried to be as close to you as we could. Were you waving at us? Please, don't ever get tired of waving at us.

I think about you a lot. Lately I've been trying to remember stories, things we used to do, things we used to say. I'm glad I wrote a lot of them down, otherwise I'm sure I wouldn't have remembered them.

Still, I don't remember a lot.

I've been wondering why I can't remember all the things we used to say and do. I've come up with a reason, at least something that eases my mind on the matter. The fact is, we used to spend a lot of time together just doing day-to-day stuff. And no one remembers all the day-to-day stuff they used to do. We usually remember the big things, the exciting things, the things that didn't happen all the time things. And you and I, we just did...things....all the time. But that's not bad. It just means my memories will come as I live life.

They'll come when I'm up at the cabin with our families and I'll remember we used to make scavenger hunts for the younger cousins and siblings.

They'll come when I see a no-bake cheesecake and I'll remember when we made one when we were left alone by ourselves because our parents went to Disneyland with our younger brothers and didn't take us. But we didn't care. And I got kind of sick from eating so much of that cake.

They'll come when I see a pair of ripped jeans I'll remember what you did when your jeans got too old...

They'll come when I sit at a cubicle with a computer and I'll remember when I was your "trainer" when we all worked at the hotel reservations place. And you told me you were scared. Because you knew you were in love. And that meant you had to get married. And that meant you were going to be a dad. And I was happy and excited for you, but also a little sad because I knew things were going to change forever.

They came last night when I was cleaning the kitchen floor and I put on Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band and listened to the entire CD as loud as I could. (Thanks for not minding, Zack :) ) And I remembered when you got that CD and we sat in your room and listened to every song. We read the words, we sang along and we looked at the cover and read all the names of the people there. We didn't recognize most of them. And we laughed at how weird the Beatles looked in those outfits. And why did John Lennon have his hands in his pants on every page? We learned all the lyrics to every song. We really liked all the music. (Well, almost all the music. "Within You Without You" was a little too weird for our taste, but we still enjoyed listening to it and making fun of it.) Every song makes me think of what we said and how we felt about the music. We used to laugh at the line "And of course, Henry the horse dances the waltz". Oh, of COURSE he does. And we'd always try and catch the extra "RITA!" and "Hoo!" that Paul sings in "Lovely Rita" and "When I'm 64". I tried to write the clarinet part for that song and play it, because you said I should. You said it would be cool. And it was. Everything you said would be cool WAS cool. To me. :) We brought in Tippy, our dog, for the last song to see if he could really hear that 15 seconds of kilocycle at the very end. We weren't impressed with his reaction.
I know all the songs on that album still. I listend to that album a lot. Funny though, I don't remember ever listening to it in my room or by myself. Thanks for letting me hang out in your room. Thanks for being a great big brother.

Happy Birthday. Say hi to the fam. :) ("It's....the fam!") I hope they sang "Happy Birthday" to you in the traditional family way: as loud and as off key and you can possibly get.

Dino Fun

Today we took the first grade on a field trip to the Dinosaur Park. It was fun, exhausting, and nothing went too terribly wrong.

The day started out a little off when one of my students (whose mom had signed the note indicating that she would be a volunteer that day) came to school and said "My mom isn't coming. She had to go to work this morning." I counted my blessings considering the teacher next door had a mom cancel her commitment to go because she was put in jail.

I still had 2 volunteers and so I was able to put my class into 3 groups: one group of 5 and two groups of 6. I have 17 kids in my class. I know. You're all jealous. And I can do math, too. Soooo jealous.

I gave myself the group of 5. Not because I wanted an easier group, but because I gave myself the infamous "Sam." I'd like to say, first off, that I didn't lose Sam at the park. I'll leave it at that for the moment.

After the business of getting ready (getting the kids to eat their breakfast quickly, making sure they brought their hats, finding out who brought a home lunch, getting the lunch count to the lunch ladies, loading the lunches on the bus, getting a final head count of adults, getting a check from the office for our admission, giving instructions to the volunteers, loading the kids on the bus, going over the rules for the bus "NO part of your body should hang out the window..." and making sure they were all settled in) we drove to the park.

When you're a kid and you're outside of school, in a bus, with your class, everything is cool.

"Look, teacher! An American flag!"

"Coool! McDonald's!"

"Look out the window, teacher! Dirt!"

And when you turn street corners on a bus, you must yell. You MUST.

Once at the park, I took my group of 5 boys and we started looking at everything. There was SO. MUCH. TO. SEE!!!! The boys didn't spend more than 2 seconds in one spot. They didn't stop talking about what they were looking at. They were running most of the time. It was a blast.

Here's a rare shot of them standing still.

Here's what they looked like most of the time.

Here's what caught their attention for a full 15 minutes. They stayed in the same spot!

After lunch in the "Dino Den", I let them play on the playground for awhile. It's a pretty cool playground. It has a gigantic tree they can climb in and then slide out of. It has a lot of dinosaurs that the kids can climb on. And there's a brachiasaurus you walk under to get to the playground. After about 10 minutes I had to round them up for our "educational presentation" in the Education Building. I counted 4 kids. Where was Sam? I had told him not to leave the playground area. He had nodded that he understood and said "okay". Yet, he wasn't there. I finally found him about 10 minutes later. He was not in the playground area.

"Sam, I asked you to stay in the playground area."
"I know."
"Then why did you leave?"
"I wanted to see the ducks."
I could not reason with him past that fact.
Aaaand that's why I had Sam in my group.

After we got back to school and after we ran through a dress rehearsal for our opera (a whole nother story), I put on "The Land Before Time" and enjoyed an hour of peace and rest.

Except when Sam got hungry.
"Teacher, I'm hungry."
"Really? When you get home be sure and have a snack."
"I'm really hungry right now."
"I see. Well, we don't have any food right here. You'll have to eat when you get home."
"I was really wishing we had two lunches today."
"That's too bad. We only had one today."
"And I'm really hungry."
"Sam. I don't have any food."

He finally turned around and went back to the movie.
I'm going to miss him over the summer.