The things they say

My students crack me up.  I don't even remember half the stuff they say to retell.  Here are some recent gems I do remember.

Student:  I'm going to a cabin with my family and my grandparents this weekend!  You know what that means, right?

Me:  What?

Student:  Two things:  fun and mashed potatoes.  That's what happens when you're with grandparents.

The next day he very seriously had to tell me something.

Student:  My dad said it isn't a cabin.  It's a condo.

I was grateful for the clarification.

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There was apparently someone lurking near the school and taking pictures of students.  The entire administration was alerted and on the case and my job was to calm the hysteria.  (Some of them just love to get hysterical and will take any opportunity.  For example:  that moth will give us rabies!)

Student:  He was taking pictures and he will murder us!

Another student:  Why would you even introduce that word?

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A student hit another third grader at recess.  The other third grade teacher and I were getting to the bottom of the story (just living my best life over here) and found out the other third grader swatted the ball away that my student was playing with so my student retaliated.

After I had calmed him down, I talked to him about the fact that if he hadn't reacted like that, he would not have gotten in trouble because at that point, only the other student was at fault.

Student:  Well my family was reading in the scriptures this morning and it said that if someone bites you, you can bite them back, so....

(side note:  The Old Testament is a long book and I probably haven't read every word in it, but still.)

Me: (when you are teaching in Orem UT and know this student's dad is a bishop)  That was the Law of Moses (kind of) and when Jesus came, He fulfilled the Law of Moses so now that isn't OK.

Student:  So if I'd lived 1000 years ago and someone bit me, I could bite them back?

Me:  Well, longer than that, but yes.

He nodded like the world suddenly made a lot more sense to him.

Grateful Friday

I'm grateful I finished a huge project yesterday.  I created self monitoring binders for my students and they were a beast!

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I'm grateful for the sweet parking spot I got at work yesterday.

It helped that I was there in the 6:00 hour (which was key to finishing those darn binders).

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I'm grateful I could go to Mark's parent teacher conferences with Adam.  His teachers are all kind and it reminded me of Braeden's parent teacher conferences.  Their history teachers think they're brilliant, their drama teachers would be happy to adopt them, their math teachers seem like they want to pat me kindly and tell me everything's going to be OK.

I'm grateful for Madame Tyler.  Even though she doesn't teach my kids currently, she was Emma's French teacher.  I stopped by to see her and tell her about Emma's adventures.  Her eyes gleamed with pride as I told her and she got Emma's French number so she could text her.

Good teachers that love my kids are my love language.

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I'm glad Adam took my stitches out last night.  Here's hoping he got them all.  It is not healing that well.  Infected and swollen so the stitches were hard to find.

At least the stitches are (hopefully) out.

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I'm grateful for the faith my parents taught me.  It sustains me.

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I'm grateful for the brief and intermittent phone calls I have with my sisters.  They also sustain me.

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I'm grateful for the kind support I feel at school from everyone.

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I'm grateful for our kids.  I don't talk to any of them as much as I'd like to.

Braeden called to check in the other night and he and Adam talked for about 30 minutes about Brexit.  They were talking on speaker phone while I toiled away on my binders in the background.  I thought those two are political science nerds.

But they're my political science nerds.

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I'm grateful forever and always for the unrelenting goodness Adam adds to my life.

Teacher

At 1:30 AM, I told Adam that one of my students needs touch dots.  She has been using tally marks to add and it is slowing her down.

Adam said, "Well...good."

I don't just think about school when I'm awake.  I dream about it all night too.

Nights are pretty exhausting.

But then, so are the days.  Every day we have tears from someone.  Someone has a head-ache.  Someone has the most exciting thing to tell me at the least opportune time.  Someone needs to use the bathroom "and it's an emergency" right when I am in the middle of a lesson.  There are always scrapes and slivers and mosquito bites (I have a drawer full of bandaids and I rub lotion on every mosquito bite. The slivers just get a little sympathy).

Yesterday there was a significant enough behavior problem that I had to speak with the school psychologist about the student during recess (my one chance to use the bathroom!).

They are as tired of my bandaged wrist as I am.  A student asked, "When is your wrist going to be better?"

I told them I was getting the stitches out on Thursday and I was hoping that would help.

"No!" a girl wailed.  "Stitches?!?  Getting out stitches pulls.  That will not be better."

A different girl is trying to talk me into a classroom pet.  Not.  Even.  Tempted.  I pointed out our plant and said that could be a pet.  I offered that we could name it.  She gave me a sideways look that clearly was a mix of pity and contempt.

They make me laugh too though.  And occasionally they throw their arms around my waist in a big hug.  They smile when I open the door in the morning to greet them and they tell me about the important things in their lives.

Whenever possible, I try to point out on the map a place we are reading or talking about.  Their geography skills are shaky.  One student asked me what was on the other side of the map, because wasn't the world round?

I explained that it was round but that the map was flat sort of like if you took the label off a can and laid it flat.

One of them said, "Did you know that there is such a thing as a round map?"

That was the moment I decided to take in my globe from home.

I took it in on Saturday and put it on a high shelf (because I don't need them spinning it).  We hadn't talked about anything geographical since then but yesterday one of the students noticed it.

"Teacher!" he said in wonder, pointing to the globe. "Remember how you said we need a globe in our classroom?  I found one!"

When I taught school before, I would correct them when they called me teacher and tell them to call me Mrs. Davis.

I let them call me Teacher now.  I like being teacher.

Adam

Because I am a diligent list maker, I wrote a list on Sunday of All the Shoulds.  That was my title.  I wrote down all the things that were bothering me because I wasn't doing them well.

Then I looked at the list and decided which ones to care about.

One thing on the list was to stop being such a burden to Adam.  I wrote, "Stop being so lame."

He used to come home to a prepared dinner and now he comes home to a tired wife.  We make dinner together most nights and that isn't terrible, but wasn't it easier for him before?  He never complains.

He used to have Saturdays to do his own tasks and chores.  Now he goes with me to my school to help me with something.  I love spending that time with him and he is very helpful, but wasn't it easier for him before?  He never complains.

I used to get ready for the day after he left for work.  Now I bang around before he wakes up.  Try as I might, I make noise.  He never complains.

Last night I brought home a big sheet of cards that were laminated that I needed to cut out.  Since I have my healing left wrist and my non dominate right hand, it was a little frustrating.  Adam said, "Leave them for me.  I'll cut them out later."

I reminded him of my list.  I said, "But I was going to stop being so lame.  Maybe I'll start that tomorrow."

He laughed and told me to come sit on the couch with him.

This morning there are neat piles of cards cut out on the table.

The moral to the story, kids, is to marry someone nicer than the nicest person you know.

Sunday drive

I told Adam and Mark I needed more unstructured time with them.

After church we were sitting around and eating nuts and talking.  I brought up the subject of girls with Mark and I said, "No one ever said unstructured time wasn't going to include awkward conversations."

Mark said, "This isn't unstructured time.  This is nut time."

He took pictures of the three of us, but I'll just post him.

Mark at nut time.  Notice the broken rocking chair in the background.  It may have finally given up.  It was broken by that same redhead when he was a toddler and scaled the back of it.  We've tried to repair it and it has mostly worked but maybe not anymore.

Sunday afternoon found us with a little time.  A lot of our kids were busy elsewhere so we canceled Sunday dinner and went for a drive.

It was exactly what I needed.

We packed a lunch and drove west.  We went to Fairfield where there was once a fort and there is now a pretty little park.  We sat at a picnic table under a pavilion and ate and chatted and saw two of the biggest cats I've ever seen.

I thought maybe like there are mini horses, one was a mini puma and the other was a mini panther (puma is my favorite out of mountain lion/cougar/puma).  Mark said it was a puma pro or puma air (like MacBook Pro and MacBook Air).  It was just the kind of dumb relaxed conversation you have on a beautiful Sunday afternoon when the temperature is perfect and the sun is shining and you don't have a care.

Adam snapped a picture of us throwing back Diet Grapefruit Shasta like the fancy people we are.  I made Rice Krispie treats out of pumpkin spice Cheerios which seemed like a festive September picnic sort of thing to do.  I want my mom to notice that there are yellow peppers in that bag.  I don't just eat candy.  (She told me not to just eat candy.)

I was telling Mark a little about my family history in nearby Cedar Fort and how my grandparents had lived there before my dad was born.

I decided to call my parents and ask my dad if he knew where they'd lived.

My clever mom used technology to its advantage and called my aunt Claudia (my dad's older sister) on her cell phone.  She put her on speaker so we could hear.

Claudia described how to get to the house and we found it!

(We found it and a second choice but by texting the pictures, we found the real one.)

We took an alternative route home because Adam.  We saw the biggest antelope I've ever seen.  (Between the cats and antelope, you get the feeling that life is good in Fairfield.)

I made up my first ever joke and texted it to Fam-a-lam and Emma's the only one who reacted so she's my favorite.

Q:  What do you call an antelope that is too fat to jump a fence?

A: A cantaloupe.

See?  That's funny.

Maybe I spend too much time with 8 year olds.

Grateful Friday

I'm grateful it IS Friday.  I'm tired.  

Even though Saturdays are packed and busy, it is a different kind of packed and busy and a change is as good as a rest.

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One of my students brought me this:

My love language.

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I'm grateful for perspective.  I give more seasoned teachers the side eye with their have-it-all-together vibe.  I'm not over here waving, I'm drowning.

I walked into school the other morning at the same time as the only male teacher at the school.  He's a young guy with a wife and toddler and newborn at home.  I also know he's in graduate school.  I asked him how school was going.  He said, "I'm exhausted.  I was up doing homework until 1:30 last night."

I sympathized.  I said, "That's hard when you have kids too.  When my husband was in graduate school he would wait until we were all in bed before he did homework."

He said, "Yeah, I need to have family time.  I need to spend time with my kids.  So I stay up late."

I hoped he felt understood.  At the same time I felt a little chastised.  Everyone is having their own struggles.  I need to be compassionate to everyone and give everyone a break.  Including me.

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President Nelson spoke at BYU this week.  I listened to a recording of his talk on my way to work.  It was wonderful.  At one point he was talking about how he followed God's laws and not the opinions of the world. He said, "Prophets aren't always popular."

Braeden and Anna arrived 1 1/2 hours early and the Marriott Center was already filling up.

So I think you just have to ask the right people:  he's popular.

Desi texted this picture:

Natalie, Anna, Braeden and Desi (and 20,000 of their friends)

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Our schedules don't work during the week for me to be able to talk to Emma.  We text a little and she's sent a few emails and they delight me.  Here are some snippets:

I want you to imagine a slightly scatter-brained, eccentric Parisian woman who works as a seamstress/restoration person at a museum. Are you picturing a 5’3” woman with glasses, a red bob with the shortest bangs you’ve ever seen, pants with flowers AND foxes, a blazer over a hot pink crocheted vest over a white button down shirt, all topped off with a green jacket tied around her neck like a scarf? If so, you’re exactly right. 

~

The coolest thing was watching them assemble some Chinese armor. If you’re ever getting attacked by a Chinese warrior from the Middle Ages, let me know, because I know where all the weak spots are now.

~ 

I got a sandwich from a boulangerie (which was surprisingly difficult to find. How hard is it to get a baguette in this town?). My plan was to walk along the Seine, find a place to sit and eat, then go to Pont d’Alma, which is near the Eiffel Tower and has a metro stop on the same line as my apartment. It was far less idyllic than it sounds. For one thing, I was walking right into the sun and the path along the river has kind of a lot of garbage and no place to sit. So I went back up to walk on the sidewalk, and I ended up walking through this cool little park that was basically just a long stretch of grass and trees.

Her job sounds super interesting and I will just enjoy the descriptions from afar.

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I'm grateful I have a sack full of suckers to take to my class today.  We're having a lockdown drill today which I purely hate.  I hate that we have to have one.  I hate that we have to talk about it and think about it.  They bubbled with questions of every kind.  Including but not limited to what would we do if the bad guy broke the window and came in.

I told them the bad guy wouldn't do that because there would be police outside if there was a problem at our school.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  I didn't tell them that I would do my best to stand between them and any danger.  I would.  But I didn't tell them because I like instead to have them believe that no one could possibly break our window.

One student had the idea that I should give them a sucker so they would for sure be quiet during the lockdown--their mouths would be busy.  I thought about 24 children eating suckers in the dark and getting suckers tangled in long hair.

I told them if they were silent, I'd give them a sucker after the drill.

They are thrilled by that idea.

I told them to not be afraid.  I said, "Are you afraid when you buckle up your seatbelt?"

They scoffed and said, "No."

I said, "It's not scary to buckle up your seatbelt, but you do it to be safe.  This is the same.  The drill isn't scary.  We just do it to be safe."

They bought it. I'm grateful they trust me and I'm grateful for every day that those little dears are kept from harm.

My community

We've been learning a lot about community in social studies, and about how different cultures contribute to community.  (Two vocabulary words this week:  contribute and community.)

My community is sort of a wild ride.

I was talking to them about the value of diversity and I said, "What if I said only people with curly hair and who are left handed can be in my community.  I would miss out on a lot of people with their good ideas and contributions, right?"

One boy said, "Yeah.  Especially since there are only like 1000 people in the world with curly hair."

I got a cyst removed on my wrist.  It was super painful and I went to school bandaged up.  One of the students asked me, "Did someone bite you?"

Because that is the most reasonable explanation?

Another student got a...we'll call it unconventional...haircut and told me his sister had cut it, "Because she wants to be a vet."

I didn't ask.  But I had questions.

I find out more than I want to know about bodily functions.  I hear about the playground angst and whose mother is expecting a baby and whose younger sibling is causing problems.  I hear about exciting happenings, like a camping trip or a visit with Grandma.  I hear about trauma like dead dogs.

I hear every day that someone has a cold and they sniffle and snuffle all over me.

These are the people I spend my days with.

I'm also inspired every day by their courage and earnestness and ability to forgive and work hard and follow directions.

I like where I am.  Every day.

I like my community.

My brave girl

Emma has always had this breathtaking and stubborn fearlessness that she was born with. Paradoxically she was also equally stubborn in her shyness and reticence to speak if Braeden could possibly speak on her behalf.  When it mattered to her though, she was as lionhearted as she needed to be though.

She still is.

I talked to her the day after she arrived in Paris.  I had had two nights of sleep to her one.  She was jet lagged and overwhelmed and didn't know where to go buy food and hadn't figured out her SIM card for her phone or how to get a Metro pass.  She was in I've-made-a-huge-mistake mode.  She said, "I don't know French.  Why did I think I knew French?!?"

I spoke encouragement to her and assured her that everything would be better when she wasn't jet lagged and had eaten.

When we got off the phone, I prayed.

She rallied like I knew she would.  She went out into the Paris streets and found a grocery store and got her SIM card and got ten one way Metro passes until she could figure out how to get her more permanent pass.

Sunday she sent this:

Home is where your WiFi connects.

I talked to her after her church and before mine.  She told me that she immediately felt the Spirit when she entered that courtyard.  She said that the opening song was "I Need Thee Every Hour" which made her cry and she "pretty much cried the whole meeting."

And I cried when she told me about it so I wonder where she inherited those tears from?

She met two friends after church and they spent a few hours together wandering the streets.  One is a former BYU student living in France for a few months before she moves to New York City and one is  a girl born in Italy who speaks 6 languages and has been a student in Paris for the past two years.  Emma was thrilled to meet them and grateful for someone who knows Paris pretty well.

When I consider myself at 20 years old, I am even more impressed with my intrepid traveler.  I'll just keep cheering from the sidelines and speaking encouraging words when called upon.  Because I believe in that girl!

Homecoming dance

Mark had a date Saturday night to the Homecoming dance.  He had asked one of his friends and 6 of them went together.  He told me their loosely laid plans a few days before the dance and I encouraged him to hone them a bit.

By Friday night, they had plans more solidified and then by Saturday morning, they seemed pretty good.  I was straightening the kitchen and asked Mark about a box on the table.  It was the tie his date's mother (a.k.a. his drama teacher) had bought for him to wear to the dance, complete with pocket square and cuff links.

He went on the day date which is a thing I am still not used to and Adam and I did errands.  Later we were home when Mark was back home getting ready for the dance.  He was wearing a vest without pockets so the pocket square had to have a pass.  We couldn't figure out how to make the cuff links work in his white Stafford shirt.  He did look handsome though.  He's my boy.  Of course I think so.

About ten minutes before he was to leave, it occurred to me that 1) he didn't have a corsage for his date and 2) this was obviously a big deal because her mom had given Mark a tie so he would match.  Mark insisted it was not a big deal but Adam and I disagreed with him.

Adam and I immediately started problem solving.  We would go to the store and buy flowers and create a corsage.  Neither of us had ever created a corsage before but that didn't hold us back.

Years ago Braeden had pinned a boutonnière from one of his high school dances on the garage wall, which is our family staple-it-up scrapbook.  We went out and studied it and slid the pin out of the stem of the dried up boutonnière for our own use.   I remembered I had florist tape.  We grabbed my small pruning shears and hit the road.

I texted Desi for a floral consultation.  She was cooking for a mission reunion but called me later.  I said, "I know that if I ever have a true floral emergency, I can't count on you."

She said, "I feel awful!  You can count on me!" I shouldn't tease Desi.  She's too sweet for teasing.

We stopped at a grocery store and bought two bouquets that each contained one rose and some baby's breath and some greenery.  We were hoping for that fern leather stuff that every corsage I've ever seen has but the bouquets had different greenery.

Adam saw a different, bigger bouquet that had the fern leather we were after.  He felt it. "It doesn't even look real," he said.

Then it came off in his hand.

He looked so shocked and guilty holding the tiny piece of fern in his big hand that I started giggling.  I don't think I stopped for about 30 minutes because it was a ridiculous situation.  We were frantically making a corsage for our son who didn't really want us to do it and we had no idea what we were doing.

We persisted.

We opened the back end of Joan in the grocery store parking lot and that became our workshop.

Here I am modeling the finished product:

We got to the restaurant well before Mark and his group (I guess we didn't have to be quite so frantic).  We ran a few errands that were nearby and when we finally met up with Mark, he was wearing a boutonnière.  We knew the corsage mattered!  (We just didn't figure it out early enough!)

Mark sent me this picture later.  They had dinner at Mod.  He said the guy asked if they'd been there before then he looked up at Mark and said, "Oh, I know you've been here before."

Guilty as charged.

Mark's date is the one in green.  She's holding the corsage.  Darn.  Mark said she didn't really know how to put it on.  That's why we should have had it there when her mom could have put it on! (sad face)

They had fun though.

They came here after the dance for milk and cookies on the deck.  They were a loud and raucous group and then they went to the basement to watch a movie and I went to bed.  Basements + loud enthusiastic teenagers are a lovely combination.

P.S.  Eden left the corsage in Mark's car accidentally and Mark put it in our fridge.  She and her mom stopped by yesterday because she wanted the corsage.  I was able to apologize for our folly and she gave me a warm hug.

I sure like nice kids.

Grateful Friday

At 12:51, Adam texted me the above picture.  He's on a business trip and I was sleeping/not sleeping waiting for word that my girl had made it safely.  (She left Wednesday for Los Angelos with Adam but flew to Paris on Thursday.  It was supremely confusing to Mark.  "She's not there yet?")

She had texted at 11:30 that she had landed but the above picture was reassuring too.

When she was nine she decided she wanted to learn French.  She decided she wanted to go to Paris.  Then in college she decided she wanted to do an internship.

She made it all happen.

I read this poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox and it sums up that girl:

There is no chance, no destiny, no fate
(That) can circumvent or hinder or control
The firm resolve of a determined soul.

She had a travel visa problem that she handled alone and with aplomb.  She navigated it all.

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I'm grateful that Adam is coming home today and we have the weekend together.

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I'm grateful I got to take Mark to the doctor yesterday.  I'm grateful we had to wait forever.  Sounds strange but I haven't seen enough of that kid lately and it was nice.  He's happy and busy with auditions and Homecoming and his classes.  I'm also super grateful that he is healthy.  His A1C was low enough to get a "magnificent" out of our doctor.  He told me I was to be congratulated and I said it was all Mark.  He's completely at the helm of managing his diabetes.

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I promised a reward for my students and they earned it and the reward they chose is to make slime.  I need to direct them toward easier rewards.  I made slime last night and it sort of failed.  It's less slimy and more gelatinous mass of grossness.  I also bought some slime mix ins from Costco which will hopefully save the day.  Also, hopefully they will forgive my slime making failings.  The thing about all the slime business that makes me grateful is that it will be over after today....

The same team

I talked to my students about September 11.  A lot of them were excited to share comments.  (I usually ask those children with eagerly raised hands if they have a comment or question.  Questions I will answer, comments need to wait....)

We finally had time for comments.  Most of the comments were about the fact that their parents watched the news that day/remember that day.

My hands down favorite comment was this,  "My dad remembers September 11 because he's 45!  I know what you're thinking.  45 is really old.  But he isn't.  He doesn't even have a wrinkle."

I said, "I don't think 45 is that old."

I talked mostly about how patriotic and heroic people were after the events of that day.  I asked them why we still remember and talk about it if it was such an awful day.

Here's what they said:

"Because we can learn that when someone's having a hard time, we will help them."

"It reminds us we're all on the same team."

"We don't want it to happen again."

Yes, yes and a million times yes.

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I'm trying so hard to grasp everything I need to learn at work.  It is an uphill climb.  I've abandoned any pretense of pride and I just ask a million questions.  All the time.  Yesterday I apologized to the ever patient and young and beautiful fellow 3rd grade teacher who looks more like Snow White than any other human I've met.  "I'm sorry I slow us down in our collaboration meetings with so many questions," I said.

She said, "I'm glad you ask.  I don't know all those things either.  I haven't been doing this very long."

We are all on the same team.

Bon Voyage

I shouldn't even be posting on my blog because I have seriously tried to be in denial but it is hard to pretend she isn't leaving when Emma is packing for three months.

We had a farewell dinner at La Dolce Vita which is my favorite Italian restaurant on the planet (I haven't been to that many, but it is awesome.)

Mark doesn't cry but I think he did a little this morning when he said good-bye to his girl.

After our dinner, Emma went over to her friends' house, Rose and Fiona.  They were two of "my" girls on our France trip.  They also are theater people so they know how to create a scene/use props:

We will miss her but we are also excited for her and I'm super proud of her.  She applied her steely determination to make this dream a reality and I love that.

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In other news, I'm going to talk to my kids at school about September 11.  I'm going to try not to cry.  I was going to take the picture book I used to read to my kids every year on September 11 (and I would always cry) but the pictures are too...real (photos from the NYTimes) and after all these years, I still feel it.

One of the other teachers found a very innocuous thing we can read to them.

Innocuous is the order of the day.  I can't think about anything too much.

Not today.

Mark

Once I was talking to my mom on the phone when Mark was little and describing his disruptive and destructive behavior while I was trying to teach his siblings school.

My mom said, "The problem is, you just want Mark to sit quietly in a corner."

It at once made me seem like an unreasonable cow and was absolutely true.

I tried to take her counsel and let Mark be Mark.  (I bought a gate and put him in his room adjacent to the school room.  I would step over the gate and visit him from time to time.  I gave him Duplo Lego blocks and the rest is history.)

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Saturday (because I live at the school, except on Saturday members of my family live there with me) Adam and I were working on something in my classroom and Mark had found a rubber band and folded up a small square of paper and was zinging it around the room.  He was experimenting with different methods of configuring the rubber band and testing distances.

I said, "Mark, stop.  You're driving me crazy."

Adam said, "Mark, your mom doesn't like noise."

It at once made me seem like an unreasonable cow and was absolutely true.

Mark went to the hall--where he had even further distances to experiment with, and I finished up my work.

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Also Saturday, I called our health insurance company.  I've done that more times than I can count this summer and I totally know the drill.  I know when to say what to the automated system to get me through to an actual live person.  Except this time, when they asked me for Mark's birthday I said he was born in 2012.  I accidentally made him ten years younger.  Looking back on pictures of Mark ten years ago no one could blame me for trying to slip that in.

Here's Mark at the Canadian border, peeking out of the ever green evergreens:

Here he is in desperate need of a haircut (but I was reluctant--those curls!):

This is after the haircut and reminds me that he shut all the bathroom doors because he didn't want to look in the mirrors at himself (he wasn't a fan of the shorn curls):

Also notice one front tooth is discolored from the time he closed his eyes and spun around in his room and crashed into his bed.  He just wanted to see what would happen...

 Here he is catching some rays at the hotel pool in Los Angelos:

Slipping and sliding at his grandparents' house:

 Here he is waiting for his cue as ring bearer at his aunt's wedding:

 We would go to the zoo after school started and have the place to ourselves:

Mark led us on a hike east of the mountains when I needed a mental health sunshine day:

That time we took Horace on a family vacation to visit my parents in Nauvoo:

That time on the Oregon coast when Mark ran full speed up a steep hill then collapsed.  On a picnic table.  And Braeden mocked him a bit.

That time Mark dressed up like a shepherd for Pikkujoulu even though no one told him to and we weren't acting out the nativity.

Six year old Mark melts my heart.  He's never going to sit quietly in a corner and I'm OK with that.

Sure foundation

I shouldn't even be a little bit surprised, but this has not been easy.

On the heels of a really hard summer which was taxing in a myriad of ways, I jumped with both feet into a brand new daunting task.

Because I really, really wanted to.

I don't regret my decision for a minute.  I love teaching 3rd grade and it is what I had been working toward for years.

That doesn't mean it has been easy.

It's super hard to balance my time between home/family and work.

Also, I have a steep learning curve.  I'm used to being fairly competent in my life.  I've become accustomed to doing what I want to do/am good at doing and feeling in control of my life.  I've been adulting and homemaking for a long time.

Now, I'm trying to learn a new language that is all in acronyms.  I'm trying to navigate Google Drive effectively because that is where my entire life is housed it seems.  I'm wrapping my mind around systems and schedules I didn't create which has not been my custom.  I'm feeling like a failure at a million little things.

Coupled with all of that, I haven't done enough other things like family history lately (which also isn't my custom and my dear friend Marie Louise is just patiently waiting for me).  There are a million little ways I feel like a failure around my personal life too.

This all culminated in me having a come-apart in a parking garage Saturday evening.  Adam and I sat in the parked car and talked (and I cried).  I told him all the ways I was failing and he said, "Stop."

He told me I was trying my best and to leave that at the alter.  I HAVE been trying my best.  I truly have.  There have not been many moments of downtime as I have taken this huge step.  I've been working and working (and working).

The conversation reminded me of this from Elder Bednar:

Most of us clearly understand that the Atonement is for sinners. I am not so sure, however, that we know and understand that the Atonement is also for saints—for good men and women who are obedient and worthy and conscientious and who are striving to become better and serve more faithfully. I frankly do not think many of us “get it” concerning this enabling and strengthening aspect of the Atonement, and I wonder if we mistakenly believe we must make the journey from good to better and become a saint all by ourselves through sheer grit, willpower, and discipline, and with our obviously limited capacities.

I have been applying sheer grit, willpower, and discipline and I obviously have limited capacities.

I am grateful for the strengthening aspect of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

A while ago Tabor and I were texting about the rigors of our lives.  He wrote me this:

I think that is true. I don’t think there is a normal. As much as I would like that, it is not there. Christ is the only constant and so I need to get closer to Him to feel consistency.

So there isn't a normal.  There will be growing pains and striving unless we decide to stand still. There isn't a surefire way to find balance in life but there is a rock to stand on that will keep us strong and equal to the task at hand.

Remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds … it shall have no power over you … because of the rock upon which ye are built.

Helaman 5:12

Grateful Friday

1- I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  It is a distant pinprick but it is there and it makes me feel like I eventually will get a handle on things.

2- I'm learning so much.  Every day.  Too much really because it doesn't all stick.  Still.  It's exciting to be learning.  It's keeping my brain bendy.  One big takeaway I've learned?  If I'm calm, so are my students.  Wednesday, fresh off the heels of a collaboration meeting which was in a foreign tongue I don't understand (acronyms), I was stressed.  And I was stressed because as usual I felt like I was racing the clock.  And my students didn't behave so well.

Yesterday I took a breath and reminded myself to be calm.  Frequently.  It helped.  We were all less frazzled.

3- I really appreciate the people I work with.  From the first time I stepped into that school a few years ago, it felt like a happy place and where I wanted to be.  It still feels that way.  And it's not because of the bathrooms that resemble gas station bathrooms in Idaho.  You know the type and how clean they aren't.  It's because of the people.  Everyone is friendly and supportive and goes out of their way to check on me and encourage me and smile at me and make sure I know there are donuts in the teachers' room.

4- I'm grateful for my kids.  It was fun the other night to check in with Braeden and hear about how much he and Anna are enjoying their classes.  Emma is in high gear getting ready for France.  We've called them her "Freparations".  The other morning we both had a come-apart in the 7:00 AM hour which I will attribute to high emotions and low sleep.  Before I got to school she had texted me an apology.  She's a grown up mature girl and the only problem she truly causes is that she's going to France like some kind of deserter when I always want her down the hall.  Mark has been a pretty good sport about his newly abandoned-child state.  The problem is he's 1) spoiled rotten and 2) used to being the center of my world.  He's rising to the occasion and is kind to me.  And it's been a few days since I've cried because I feel guilty about him coming home to an empty house every day after school.  So there's that.

5- Adam always and forever makes me grateful.  He makes me laugh and rubs my back and tells me philosophical arguments about how this is all going to work out.  He pitches in and goes with me to Walmart when neither of us want to go within twenty miles of Walmart.  He always steadies the rocking boat.

I can't resist

This could get out of control, but I've got a problem and it's called cute 8 year olds.

One of them asked me if I had shapes.

"Shapes?"

"Yeah, shapes."

I must have had a blank look on my face.

"You know, like hexagons?  I want to trace them."

I said, "Oh, no I don't have any.  I'll have to get some."

Every day after that he asked me if I had gotten shapes yet.

So these arrived from Amazon the other day.

Also another student wanted Dog Man books (I'd never heard of them, but they're a thing).  I've since ordered some from ThriftBooks.

I purely don't have time to go to a store, but online shopping may just be my downfall with this gig.

First day of school

I didn't post a picture of Mark's back to school day.  Is there a statute of limitations on those?

Here he is--all ready for 11th grade.

Braeden and Anna texted us their back to school pictures.  They delighted me.

There's always the one kid who won't cooperate and smile for his picture.

Sunday

I meant to take a picture and should have taken a picture but we were lucky to have extra Sunday dinner guests.

Desi is back in town to everyone's delight and joining her were Clarissa and Timeon and Micah, their friend from the Philippines.  They have been in the Mountain West for several weeks but headed back to Hawaii the next day.

Returned missionaries all, we had a great Come Follow Me discussion led by our very own Braeden and Anna.

I was extra impressed with Timeon and Micah because they were sharing ideas in languages other than their native tongues.

Like usual, they brought light with them and I'm grateful that we're able to invite such goodness to spend the evening.

We talked about spiritual gifts as part of our lesson and I read a quote by Marvin J. Ashton that listed less conspicuous gifts.  One of them was the ability to weep.  I've got that one!  I proved it by getting teary several times during the evening.

When they all left, I stood at the bottom of the steps out front and hugged them one by one.  Starting with Braeden and ending with Micah.  Maybe he thinks that is a weird American custom to get a hug by a matriarch at the bottom of the stairs or maybe he's been around enough Americans to know that I'm just the weird one.

The only thing marring the evening was when Emma asked if she could teach the lesson next Sunday since it will be her last Sunday.

I've been trying to ignore the fact that Emma is going to France soon.  She is a steady ballast when things get rough.  She and Mark seem to have their own language and I know he will miss her a lot.  Adam and Emma have been carpooling to Salt Lake City all summer and his drive won't be as entertaining.  I'll miss her hugs and wit and music.  We will be bereft without our girl around here.

Peak performance

Saturday was a day of errands (we hadn't really done an official-plan-the-menu-and-make-a-list grocery shopping trip probably since before the wedding) and laundry.

Lots.  Of.  Laundry.

Late in the afternoon, I invited everyone to a laundry folding party on our bed.  I usually fold the laundry myself because 1) I like doing it and 2) I am particular about how it is done.

But desperate times.

Mark folded a beach towel and it looked like this.

"Mark," I said.  

"You may not like it," he said, "but this is what peak performance looks like."

"Fine," I said.  Who was I to argue with peak performance?

(Then I refolded it.  Because we aren't barbarians.)