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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