Straight outta quarantine

Emma had close contact with a person who tested positive for COVID.  She had a test, but it was negative.   (They both were wearing masks; mask wearing works.)  Still, she was supposed to quarantine for 14 days.  Now, my girl is an introvert and likes being home where the people aren't.

Nevertheless.

It was hard on her.

She was starting to get a little stir crazy by the end of the second week.  So she wrote a song.  Who does that?  Emma.  It is maybe one of my favorite songs she's written. Angsty Emma writes well.

We invited her over for Taco Tuesday, then we extended the invitation to Braeden and Anna (with the ulterior motive of having Braeden help Adam and Mark move the new mattress out).  But the saga continues with the mattress and we're hanging onto it for a few more days until the new one arrives which we ordered online.  It's been a regular roller coaster.

Anna ended up not coming because she was drowning in work.  So relatable.  I set the table for five and it felt weird because despite the many years of setting the table for five, we are a family of six now.  We missed Anna.

I left work feeling stressed and overwhelmed.  I have what feels like more than I can do in the next two weeks.  We're going on a trip and before that I need to prepare for parent teacher conferences and make sub plans and plan for the week that we return.  I have an online student who is struggling to understand and I need to make time to address that.  Oh, yeah.  Also all the regular stuff....

Sitting around the table on the deck in the lovely warm but not too warm evening with our children was the perfect antidote for my stress.  They are all just a little bit funnier when they are together.  We laughed a lot and at one point I had to leave the table or spew my mouthful of Crystal Light all over.  When will I learn not to take drinks around these people?  They make me laugh, but will I survive it?  If you've ever heard Mark sing Garth Brooks' song Mr. Midnight (inexplicably one of Mark's favorite songs--no one has eclectic taste in music like Mark) while doing an impression of Kermit the Frog, you'll see why this life is a regular choking hazard.

After dinner Braeden filled air in his tires.  He said to Mark, "Want to help me, mate?"  And of course Mark did.  Braeden then hurried home to Anna because he is in love and that makes me happy.

I went to bed at peace with the world, grateful for a little respite with people I love.

Of course, I was awake again at 1:00 AM, my preferred time to fret and stew about life.  So I got a few more hours of anxiety in.  It's all about balance....

Is God frustrated by COVID?

At the high school senior devotional, our stake president had a missionary from our stake join the meeting via zoom.  He had him tell his story.

This elder was called to serve in Tanzania.  He knew Spanish and had been assuming his mission call would be somewhere Spanish speaking, but no, it was in Tanzania.  He had no idea where that was.  Also, he would be speaking Swahili, which he'd never heard of before.

His friends who were doing virtual MTC also, received a big box of books.  He received an envelope with his name tags.  Everyone else he knew was in districts of 12-14 missionaries.  His district consisted of two.  Him and his companion.

He knew that because of COVID, he would be serving in a stateside mission first.  He researched and found out where the Swahili speaking missions were in the states.

Then he got called to Spokane Washington, which hadn't been on his radar at all.

Literally nothing about his mission was working out how he thought it would.

He was assigned to two companions, one a native African, who both spoke Swahili.  Swahili speaking missionaries are pretty new--the mission in Tanzania is pretty new--so that's why he didn't get a lot of books.  

Then he started telling one experience after another where he was able to meet people in Spokane who spoke Swahili.  Then, incredibly, because they are able to go onto Facebook and connect with the world, he started teaching some people in a refugee camp in Burundi.  There are over 50 people in the refugee camp who have been able to hear the gospel and want to be baptized.  There are no missionaries there but a mission president from nearby went to interview them.

He talked about connecting with a woman who was living in Norway but who had a following of people in Uganda that saw her as their spiritual leader.  He taught her the gospel and the 100 plus people she led also wanted to be taught in Uganda.

Story after story.

It became clear to me that because of COVID, he was in Spokane, where there probably wouldn't have been Swahili speaking missionaries anytime soon.  Because of COVID, mission rules were such that he was able to be on Facebook and connect with people in places where there wasn't a mission, or in Norway where there probably aren't Swahili speaking missionaries.  Because of COVID, the youth in our stake were able to meet with one of their own who was currently serving a mission.  

After he was done speaking, our stake president asked the youth, "Do you think God is frustrated by COVID?"

No indeed.  His work is continuing.  Miracles happen all the time.  We just need to be in the right place and doing the right things to be a part of it all.

Weekend report

Friday we went to 5 Star for dinner and while Adam and Mark were in line to order, I was saving a table outside.  This happened and I had to text Emma about it because she would understand:

Then the line was too long so we abandoned that idea and I left the chatty Cathys behind.

That night Adam and I went to Costco.  We put a few things in our cart that are Christmas presents.  Maybe it was the display of Christmas trees that gave the strong suggestion.

Saturday morning I started my Christmas list spreadsheet.  This year it has separate pages.  It's fancy.  It's like the trifecta of my favorite things:  lists, gifts and Christmas.

I pruned a thorny tree in our yard and have three bandaids on my fingers. (I didn't realize it was so thorny.)  I also love pruning and I told Adam I want an electric hedge trimmer for my birthday.  I like to keep him in gift ideas. 

I caught up on email and felt understood.  This was at the bottom of a wordy email I'd skimmed:

Thank you, thank you, my heart sings.

We went to the afternoon matinee at the Hale Theater.  Mark was working and I loved watching him problem solve and stride around helping people.  The play was a brand new original musical called Blink and it was about a dad and his daughter and how she grew up in a blink of an eye.  It destroyed me.

Mark laughed at my tear stained face mask afterward.  But he also hugged me.  Nothing like having your mask showcase what a ninny you are.

Story of my life.

Adam and I went to the grocery store.  I heard the siren song of cinnamon pine cones and bought a bag.  I can't resist.

Then, we came home to move furniture!  Mark was still working which was unfortunate.  What's the point of strong children when they aren't home?

We bought a new mattress, a memory foam situation in a box that weighed 103 pounds (I checked).  We wanted to put it in our bedroom and put our still good mattress from our bedroom in the basement guest room and get the worn out guest room mattress out.  

I grew up with my dad having draft horses.  Adam reminds me of a draft horse.  He is built like one and he is strong and gentle like one.  My dad's horse Billy used to pull entire trees out of the bottoms near Boulder Creek.

This picture was taken in 1979.  My dad with Betty and Billy (Betty was Billy's sister) in a pulling contest at the Elko County Fair.

Adam is basically Billy.

I'm more like this:

He lugged the unwieldy box up to our room by himself.  

Then, we had to get the king mattress from our room down two flights of stairs to the basement.  Why didn't we just put the new mattress in the basement?  I don't know.  We're not that smart.

We got it into the upstairs hall with the intention of me lowering it over the edge of the railing to Adam.  Except I couldn't even budge it.  Adam said, "Squat down and lift it."

Nope.  That thing was heavy.

He came back upstairs and lifted it up and it was balancing there on the railing and he had me stand in the middle of the mattress and I leaned over it, trying to hang on while laughing like a crazy person because it was an insane situation.  Adam hurried down because I couldn't hold much longer and he said, "OK, let go."

Adam didn't so much catch it as deflect it from hitting the wall with all the clocks.

One floor down, one to go.

We smooshed and pushed and pulled it down the stairs and then finally got it to the guest room.  I say we but it was mostly Adam, the draft horse.

Sunday was a headache day, so not much to report there.  We had actual church and dropped off pears for our Provo kids and watched a broadcast of a stake devotional for high school seniors.  It was really good and I think I may type up a story from it here sometime because I want to remember it.

We slept in the basement Saturday night, giving our new mattress time decompress from its box.  Last night we realized, much like Goldilocks when she tried mama bear's bed, that the new mattress is too soft. I think we're going to try to return it.  Meanwhile, we'll be sleeping in the basement.

The mattress saga continues....

Grateful Friday

Yesterday we chided one of my friends for staying at the school too late each day and she said that tensions were so high with her roommates right now, she would just as soon stay at the school.  

Tensions are high with them mostly because of the virus and politics.

We talked about how fear often manifests itself as anger.

She said, "They used to be friends.  I wish they'd remember that and not let all of this ruin their relationship."

Sigh.

This virus....

I'm ready to be done and we had record high numbers (again) in Utah yesterday.

On the other hand, there are some really wonderful things that are happening because of the virus.  For example, this week Blender Bottle donated a water bottle to each student at our school.  We can't use the drinking fountains at the school this year and not all the students have their own bottles.  (I've been passing out disposable Kirkland Signature bottles.)  

I wrote their names in Sharpie on the lids of the new bottles and they were ready in the morning like it was Christmas.  

And the students acted like it was Christmas morning.  There were squeals and exclamations and students clutching the water bottles to their chests.  For us?!?  They are ours?  We get to keep them?  These are not necessarily children who are just given a lot of extras in life.

They quickly showed me all the fine features of the bottle and the first day we had the constant pop pop pop of the lids because they were so hyped about flipping the lids open.

Someone spilled all 24 ounces from their bottle on my desk.

I'm still grateful. 

I think it's wonderful that there are people in the world that decided that with all of the hassles elementary students are enduring with their masks and social distancing, they would generously gift them with really nice water bottles.

The virus is here.

I guess we can ruin relationships over it or be extra kind over it.

I'm grateful Blender Bottle chose the latter.

Time

Recently a friend sent me a request to join a Facebook group that is all about outrage.

I don't have time for outrage.

I don't have time for activism.

I have third graders who read at a kindergartner's level.  I have walks to take with Adam.  I have a son who is a senior and will be leaving the nest all too soon.  I have adult children I want to text with and occasionally, if our schedules collide, talk on the phone with.  I have to start the dishwasher every once in a while.  I have mums to water. I have laundry (masks, so many masks.)  Yesterday one of my students said, "You have a lot of masks."

I said, "Well, I wear a clean one every day."  I try to hint at that frequently but not enough to make them feel bad.  It's really not up to third graders to do laundry.  But their masks are sort of gross.  Especially the ones who suck on them.

I don't want to talk about it.

I have books to read and I also don't have time for them.  If I suddenly get time, I'll choose reading the books over the outrage.

When you don't get enough sleep

 Yesterday I texted Adam this:

I slept better last night.  All the heads are safe.

Spinach Egg Casserole

This recipe is nothing special and just seems like something you'd make on a Tuesday when you didn't have any better ideas but it is Mark's favorite thing I make.

I originally got the recipe from my Better Homes and Gardens cookbook that I've had so long it has Thelma Dahl written on the inside cover.

This is with some slight tweaking of the original (plus I always double it so this is the doubled version).

4 T butter

1/4 c flour

2 c milk

2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese

20 ounces fresh spinach, steamed and with the liquid squeezed out.  Also, chop the spinach a little.

1 c + chopped ham

8 hard cooked eggs, chopped

Make a white sauce (melt butter, mix in flour, add milk and mix until slightly thickened--I usually don't wait for it to get thick because it doesn't matter anyway + I am impatient).  Add the cheese and ham and eggs and spinach.  Pour into a casserole dish and bake 350 degrees for 20 minutes or so.  I serve it over toasted wheat bread.

This isn't a recipe blog by any stretch but here it is by popular demand.  When I say by popular demand, I mean my mom and Marianne.  I have been listening to + doing what they say with those two my whole life and they haven't steered me wrong yet.

Pandemic Sundays

I was doing family history and having a frustrating time accessing a website that I formerly could access. I did a little digging and figured it out.  I was complaining to Adam about what a pain it was.  He was just giving me a bemused look.

I said, "I had to click like ten buttons!"

He pantomimed clicking buttons and sang, "You don't have to push a handcart..."

I got back to work and he went to his many hours of interviews and meetings.

There's only so much research you can do on John and Elizabeth Smith and their son James Smith though.  Do you know how many John and Elizabeth Smiths there were in England in the 1800s that all had a son named James?

When my eyes started to burn, I decided to paint my nails.  Surveying my bottles of polish, I decided it was time to get to the bottom of the important question of which nude polish of the four slightly different ones that I have is superior.

I asked Mark (he was the only one here).  There could not be a human in the world who cared less about which nude nail polish shade was best.  Also, he's color blind so I don't trust him anyway.

He looked at the nail polish but said, "I'm hungry."

So I made apple coffee cake using some of the apples from our tree that I totally neglect except once in the late summer when I pick every apple on it to exert my dominance over the squirrels.

We had our home church service when Adam got home.  It was a Sunday with no church meetings for us and we weren't having the BYU kids over.  We talked to Braeden on the phone.

We took a walk.

While we were walking, Adam mentioned how people talk about things "getting back to normal" and he thought it was all a matter of perspective and maybe we should have some of the things like more family time be the new normal.

We walked past some posh houses and then a super fancy park.  I said something about it and Mark said that he could never tell if I was a conservative suburban housewife or someone that would pull the trigger on a gun held to the bourgeoisie.

I told him I like to keep him guessing.

I made spinach egg casserole for dinner which is Mark's favorite food and I never take the time or have the energy to make during the week.

I'd be OK if this was the new normal.

Grateful Friday--recess duty edition

I had recess duty yesterday.  Recess duty isn't bad at all...in September.  I will be whiny about it in January.   

3rd and 4th grades have recess together and I like it because all the 4th graders are former 3rd graders and all the 3rd graders are current 3rd graders.  These are my people.

Yesterday two girls stood next to me all recess.  One is one of my students and she told me all about some family drama at her house the previous night involving a recalcitrant teenage sister who didn't come home on time and her mom who was worried and called her dad and her dad who had to come home early from work.  It was quite a thing.

The other girl had been doing school online but has switched to in person and yesterday was her first day back.  (The district said you couldn't switch mid term.  We're totally letting anyone switch that wants to.)  She wasn't in my third grade class last year but she knew me and I was a safer bet than the new 4th grade teachers she doesn't know.  Her best friends are doing school online.  She confided she didn't have anyone to hang out with.  

So the three of us chatted.

Then a third grader came up to me (not mine but he comes to me for reading--and hugs, occasionally).  He was near tears because a 4th grade boy had knocked him down on the soccer field.  The offending 4th grader is a big (seriously, he's bigger than most sixth graders) boy of Tongan descent.  He's also super charismatic and a really nice kid.

I walked over with the injured party.  "Did you knock him down?" I asked.

The 4th grader looked sheepish.  "Yes."

"You are big and strong," I said to him.  "You have to be careful."  Then I pulled out a gem that Braeden's friend Dillon said to Mark once.  Braeden and Dillon were playing video games at our house and Mark was a preschooler and his main goal in life was destruction.  Dillon said, "Mark, don't use your strength for evil.  Use it for good."

The 4th grader seemed to appreciate Dillon's wisdom as well.

Third grade goes in five minutes before fourth grade so I blew my (Fox 40-- Adam insisted I have a quality whistle) whistle and the third graders came running.  At the same time, the soccer ball went over the fence.  The children have been strictly trained that they are not to leave the playground for a stray ball.  The fourth grade teachers were in a tight knot, visiting, oblivious to anything happening on the playground.  

So I marched across the field and was greeted gleefully by my former students.  Mrs. Davis! I was there to rescue the ball!

They indulgently called for me to kick it over the fence knowing I wouldn't and probably couldn't at that.  They were right on both counts.  I lobbed it across and they cheered and let me tell you elementary students are so easy to please that it can go straight to your head.

By the time I got back to my class, they were standing docilely in a straight line outside my classroom door.  I'd propped the door open with a chair because I don't have a key to the outside door.  My students could have gone inside and flipped over desks and raided my candy stash but no, they were just standing there waiting for me like the little angels that they are. 

With all the things in life that are out of control and stressful, I'm grateful for a little recess duty.  I can be the person to stand by when you're tentative with friends.  I can be the confidant of family drama.  I can seek reparations against the big kid who knocked you down (the 4th grader apologized nicely and all was forgiven).  I can retrieve the ball that has gone beyond reach.  

I can't do a lot of things, but I can do some things.  Every shoe I tie and bandaid I apply is good for my soul.  I can be a fixer.  I can be a helper.

Motherhood

Motherhood really isn't for the faint of heart.  

Nearly grown children lull you into a sense of ease because you don't need to bathe or dress or buckle them into their seatbelts.  

It's still hard.

Online school is the worst.  Mark's mostly been in school with just a few weeks of hybrid.  It's still the worst.

Once Mark went to a hybrid schedule, his chemistry class sort of exploded (ha ha chemistry joke) and he's taking online classes anyway that he should have finished in summer but didn't and it's all the bane of my existence.  

I complained to Adam about my level of involvement.  Guess how much my mom was involved in my high school work?  Zero.

Adam said that I am different than Mark and also it wasn't a pandemic then.

Humph.

We finally decided he should drop the chemistry class with the charm free teacher who wouldn't answer questions either emailed or in person.  He's going to take the class from BYU independent study because we need more online classes in our life. (Send help.  Seriously.)

I struggled for nearly a week to get answers out of the school counselor and he vacillated about whether or not Mark would be able to drop the class.  Able to drop the class?  Yesterday was the day I'd had enough.  I may have had a tone.  

So Mark is no longer enrolled in chemistry.  He was able to drop it.

Then after school he was trying to take a test for one the bane-of-my-existence online classes and the proctor wasn't there.  She just wasn't.  I called the online school office.  I listened to a highly stylized violin version of "Let it Go" from Frozen because I wasn't already irritated enough.  I finally got a person and told her the proctor was missing.  She said, "She's supposed to be there."

"She's not."

"That's really interesting."

Is it?  Is it interesting?

Motherhood really isn't for the faint of heart.

I would like to say to all my fellow mothers who are cracking the old online school whip, I'm cheering for you!

Also, I would like to say to myself, remember that motherhood is sometimes sort of delightful.  For example, Emma recently texted her categorized list of theorists:

So, motherhood has its ups and downs.

Monday night pizza

 One of the hassles of my life is figuring out what's for dinner.  For years we used to have pizza every Friday.  It felt celebratory.

We kind of got away from that habit but I decided to reinstate it, except pizza every Monday.  I think everyone needs pizza more on Monday than Friday.  Friday already has its own thing going on.  Monday needs some joy.

Monday night Adam and I assembled pizzas and he put one on the grill out on the deck to cook.  It didn't go that well.  I don't think our grill is heating evenly.  He brought it inside to finish up in the oven.

We readied the second pizza and Adam started to take it outside but the door to the deck was completely jammed.  It would not budge.  Mark came with tools at the ready, prepared to disassemble the whole thing.  Adam stopped him.  We didn't really have time for a disassembled door on top of the other evening things we had going on.

I said, "How important is the deck anyway?"

Adam said, "Well, the barbecue is on."

He went out the garage door and walked around and cooked the pizza.

Mark had a letter opener in one hand and a flathead screwdriver in the other and tried his best to dislodge the stubborn door.  He grabbed my debit card and said, "I've always wanted to try this."

Nothing worked.

Adam brought the pizza in (through the garage) and it was kind of burned on the bottom (because the grill just isn't cooking evenly).  He said, "I don't know what's wrong.  I used to be able to make pizza."

He still can.  The pizza was good and we ate it.

Adam said, "Next Monday we're going to MOD."

Which still works.  Because Monday night is for pizza.

Fire on the mountain, run boy run

 Saturday morning Adam and I were lamenting all the fires on the West coast.  We felt bad for the people that were suffering.  Adam commented that we were fortunate not to have lots of fires here.  I said we didn't have those big trees to burn even if we had fires.

Then Saturday night, we had a fire.

Mark took this picture from the side of our house.

We talked evacuation plans.  Since I grew up where I did and also I'm a compulsive planner, I had already thought it through.  I told Adam where the files were that we would need to grab and I said, "Then if we have time, all the photo albums that predate my blog and digital pictures."  Also, if there was time, walk through the house with our phones and take video of all the things.

I felt pretty good about my plan.

We prayed and I tried to go to sleep.

Ha.

People just south of us were evacuated.

Adam called a meeting.  Him, Mark, me.

Adam said, "OK, if we have to leave.  The first thing is Mark's diabetic supplies."

Mark had already amassed his stuff and Adam had pulled out a cooler in case we needed to take the insulin.

It hadn't occurred to me that we needed to get all that stuff.  So my plan wasn't so very marvelous.  Because Mark not dying is more important than the photo albums.  Even though we had really cute toddlers...

Adam also said we would drive all three cars to the Macey's parking lot and then take one car and go from there.

Emma called and said if we had to evacuate, could we take her stuffed animals if possible?  It reminded me of when my grandparents' house burned and all the grandchildren asked if the shark's tooth and alligator skull from when they lived in Florida and the headdress from when my grandpa was a mission president in South Dakota were saved.  Everyone has their own treasures.

I finally went to sleep.  At 3:30, I woke up and looked outside.  The fire looked higher on the mountain and I couldn't tell if it was closer or not.  I checked Facebook and saw that firefighters from Pleasant Grove, American Fork, Orem and Lehi were all there, keeping houses safe and in the morning the Forest Service would fight it from the air.

The PG firefighters are the same guys who cut my rings off and they are good guys and I felt grateful.  I prayed some more.

This was my view Sunday morning out my office window.

All day helicopters and planes flew overhead.  I was chatting with Nola in the cul-de-sac and a plane dropped fire retardant and we both stood there sort of transfixed because it was the bright pink a little girl would love for her birthday party.

I had my phone and Nola didn't.  She said, "Take a picture and text that to me."

Cameo appearance by the crack in the cul-de-sac that keeps getting wider and wider like fault lines do.  Stay tuned for another earthquake....

Grateful Friday

How important is rounding anyway?!?

I asked my principal that yesterday.  It is not going well.  I have students who got it immediately and declared loudly, "This is easy!" followed by, "What should I do next, Teacher?"

I have students who don't get it and dully stare at their paper.

I have students who basically know how to do the work but want to sit by me while they do it.

I have students who just aren't paying attention.  Maybe they'd understand if they'd listen?

I have one adorable and charismatic boy who doesn't speak much English.  He says, "Teacher!  Help!"

Many many times a day.

Have you ever tried explaining how to round a three digit number to the tens place to someone who doesn't speak English?

This year is hard.  I knew it would be hard.  We have shorter days (so we can work with online students) and in that shorter time frame, we're trying to catch them up from what they missed and squeeze all the regular third grade curriculum in.

I felt like crying yesterday because all the frustration was mounting inside.  I just want to teach them all the things!  I need more time!

I sat on the couch next to Mark and told him all about it.  He put his arm around me and said, "Well, Mom.  You have chosen a job that is really hard.  But you are giving them your all.  That is enough."

My seventeen year old wise man.

I'm grateful for him.

I'm also grateful for all the things that are easier this school year.  My class is very well behaved.

The other day when my English language learner and I were at a complete impasse, I decided we needed help.

I turned to my class and said, "Keep working, we'll be back."

I took my student down the hall to the special ed teacher who speaks Spanish fluently.  I asked her to explain it to him.

She did.

They talked back and forth.

Did he understand?

She explained some more.

I wrote on his paper and he rounded the number correctly.

We weren't gone five minutes but we were gone long enough that I wasn't sure what would greet me on our return.

Every student was in their seat.  They were all on task.  I'm so grateful that they are such obedient and sweet kids.  It helps so much.  If I had major discipline problems on top of the they-can't-read-or-do-math problems, it would be so much harder.

I'm grateful Adam and I have been walking every night because it gives me a chance to talk to him and breathe in fresh air and I love it (and him).

He went out after I went to bed the other night and filled Joan with gas.

He makes me breakfast more often than not. He does a million little things to help me and make life better.

I'm grateful that when we returned from our walk last night, Emma was here playing the piano and singing.  Her wifi wasn't working so she and her roommates (who all live in Pleasant Grove) went home for the night and the wifi.

I'm grateful to remember the heroes that gave their lives on this day so many years ago.  I'll never forget the horror of that day, the innocent lives lost or the stories I've heard of the heroes.

There is more to life than rounding numbers.  I want to remember more often that my little charges are children first and I don't want school to be this stressful place for them where we can't fit everything in.

They are children.

They remind me of that when they tell me stories and need their shoes tied or have a joke to share.  The other day, a boy came to school brimming with a joke he had to tell me: 

Knock knock...

Who's there?

Hoot Hoot

Hoot Hoot who?

Are you an owl?  Because you just hooted!

They all laughed like it was the best joke they'd ever heard.

How important is rounding anyway?

Fear is no match for faith

 A few members in our ward (that I know about--there could be more) have Covid.  There are several teachers at school that are quarantined.

It leaves me feeling anxious and like I'm a time bomb just waiting to get sick.  I'm not even as worried about getting actually sick as I'm worried about being really inconvenienced which makes me kind of a weirdo.

(I just can't imagine having to create two weeks of sub plans, from home.  Nightmare.)

Also, I feel like my class really really needs me which is also kind of a weirdo thing to think.  It's not like I'm a superhero.  Teaching them rounding isn't going all that well for all of them.  Maybe a sub could do better.

Still.

Anxiety swirls, because I also don't want my family to get sick.

This morning I was reading in 3 Nephi chapter 4.  I read this in verse 10:

the Nephites did not fear them; but they did fear their God and did supplicate him for protection; therefore, when the armies of Giddianhi did rush upon them they were prepared to meet them; yea, in the strength of the Lord they did receive them.

I'm a Nephite and the coronavirus is a Gadianton robber.  Am I going to fear the virus or trust God?

It reminded me of something I learned in a podcast by Emily P. Freeman that I think about all the time.

I don't live in the kingdom of Thelma.  I live in the Kingdom of God.  And the Kingdom is not in trouble and neither am I.

Ten things I'm loving

1. The change in the weather.  Some of my students shivered in their shorts and t-shirts but I wouldn't let them stay in for recess.  Dress warmer kids.  This 50 degree day is just the beginning.

2. Walking with Adam.  Last night we walked around the temple.  I miss being able to go inside.

3. Shifts.  Roles shift, family dynamics shift.  It works.  I've realized that Adam is way more of a softy with Mark than I am lately and I think it's because he's mostly home with him more than I am.  I have loved being the one who is mostly home with our children but now that I'm not, I'm so glad that Adam is.

4. Mask solutions that make them less awful.  I hate wearing a mask every day but I have decided Cotopaxi and Old Navy are my favorite masks.  They're the most comfortable. Also, I like using a chain (that was intended for glasses) on my mask.  I can whip it off when no one else is in my classroom and I don't have to remember where I put it.

5. Maple Oreos.  They aren't as good as the maple cookies we love from Safeway but they are almost as good and that has made us happy.  (Emma has tried the carrot cake Oreos.  She said they taste like Christmas.  I don't know.  That seems kind of gross to me in an Oreo.)

6. My team at school.  We help each other and support each other and remind each other about what we're forgetting.  If I'm going to share a brain with two other people, I'm glad it's them.

7. Also, my neighbor at school.  We have these weird non walls because when the school was built it was open concept, which makes no good sense.  Nicole is a 4th grade teacher and her desk is feet away from my desk on the other side of a metal non wall.  We hear each other all day long.  Sometimes we walk into each others' classrooms at the end of the day and say things like, "Hey, I heard you talk to your online students about math, what did you use to teach them?"  Also, she's a whiz at Skyward so I ask her lots of questions.

8. Mark's friends encamp at our house and I'm so glad.  A few of them come over several times a week.  They stay in the basement mostly but sometimes emerge for snacks or drinks.  They are polite and good kids but even if they weren't, that's the beauty of having a basement.

9. Mums.  We have three pots next to our garage doors and they cheer me up every time I come or go.

10. Being a teacher.  Oh, I've mentioned that?

Mothering Mark

Mark worked 13 hours on Saturday.  I lovingly (important adverb added for self aggrandizement) packed him a lunch and then we told him we'd pick him up during his dinner break and take him to Apollo Burger which is nearby the theater.

Emma was working for part of that time and instead of eating his lunch, he and Emma got Zupas.  I had even tallied the carb count of that lovingly packed lunch. 

Emma was getting off work at the same time Mark was having his dinner break so we took her to dinner too.  Emma and Mark were talking over each other and eagerly telling tales and I love just listening.  Grown up children are interesting and tell good stories.

We took Mark back to work and later, Mark texted that he was exhausted and not feeling well.  I texted back, asking if he felt well enough to drive home.

He said he did.

Text if you're not and I'll come and get you.

Won't you be asleep?

Oh, that.  Text Dad.

My aspirations to be the kind of mother you can text late at night to come and get you don't match my reality.

Mark left his (lovingly packed) lunch at work accidentally.  Then he went downstairs and fell asleep on his bed, fully clothed, shoes and all.

Adam got him into bed and told him to sleep in.

Sunday morning, Mark and I sat on opposite ends of the couch and I rubbed his feet and he told me about work.  He was telling me a story and said something about Gucci and then paused, "Gucci is an expensive brand."

I said, "Did you just explain to me what Gucci is?  Because I know."  Mansplaining + teensplaining are quite a combination.

"Well, I didn't know if you knew.  You're old."

I may have pinched the toe I was rubbing.

He said, "Back to my story..."

Change is coming

Change is coming are nice three words when you're tired of heat.

Tomorrow it is going to be downright cold.  There's going to be a 60 degree temperature swing from yesterday's high to tomorrow's low and the resulting wind with hopefully blow the smoke away.

I'll take it.

I have sweaters.

Yesterday Adam and I were going to take a walk where we thought it would shady but it was actually sunny and I am basically a lizard (I don't really sweat, I just overheat) so it was miserable.

Also yesterday, despite the red flag warning of fire danger (am I the only one who checks the weather?), some people were target shooting and a fire started and the entire valley filled with smoke.  Maybe it's from more fires than just that one, but seriously.  When it's this hot and dry and windy, how about don't target shoot?

We were delighted to have our kids and Hyrum and Desi over for Sunday dinner yesterday.  It's just a perk to live near BYU.  I love how we've gotten to know our nieces and now nephew better by having them over often.  They are great kids and they add a lot.

(Marianne, you should know your kids are always super helpful in the kitchen. My boys usually park somewhere in front of where I need to be and get engrossed in some conversation and I tell them to go away but your kids are actually helpful.  Good mothering on your part.) 

After dinner we opened the blinds and saw the post apocalyptic scene.  Emma took a picture of the blood red sun and smoky air and I should have asked her for it because I know she's asleep right now. 

You'll just have to trust me.  It was something.

Today I am relishing a day off and looking forward to spending time with my people.  We're going to strike some sort of balance of the yard work that needs doing and the unhealthy air quality....

I keep telling myself change is coming.  We can do this!

Grateful Friday

Despite everything, Emma and Mark have both had callbacks this week (for Women's Chorus and a musical respectively).  What I really really want are some precedented times but the fact that life is (sort of) going on and they are (hopefully) going to be able to perform and do what they love is something I'm grateful about.

***

For all the bittersweetness of Mark's senior year, this is more sweet than bitter.  I remembered that with our other kids, I had them do their own laundry their senior year so they could learn the routine and learn how to fit it into the rest of their life.

I taught Mark how to use the washing machine and dryer last night.  My laundry workload has now been reduced by 33%.  There's nothing bitter about that.

***

Adam and I have the same healthy habit goal and we're taking walks together every evening as a result and I love that.

***

Our principal is really great and I'm grateful.  Yesterday I rewarded my class with donuts because they had earned it by being "perfect" according to the specialty teachers when they have class.  Also they're so quiet in the hall, sometimes I look back to see if they're still following me.  Maybe the masks are just settling them down?  Our principal came to celebrate with us and you would have thought we had a celebrity in our midst.  The kids were excited!  I was terrified of my principal when I was in elementary school.

Of course, he used to walk around with a paddle in his back pocket....

That was just how it was, but now I think, what was wrong with that guy?!?

I'm glad things are different now.

I'm figuring out a rhythm for school and I'm glad.  I'm a person who thrives with predicability and routines.  I'm finding my way much earlier than I did last school year.  Also I love the teachers I work with and I love my students.

Even when they make me a little crazy.

Third graders are my love language.

Teamwork

 The last few days we've had kids from LIA (Latinos in Action) in our school.  They are super impressive high school students who are bilingual and volunteer their services.  We've had them meet with and/or call Spanish speaking parents of our online students.  A few days ago, I saw them lingering in the hall after they were finished.  One of the boys pointed to a picture on the wall and said, "I'm still in this picture."

There's a flag picture in the hall that's a collage composed of the faces of students.  I don't know how old the picture is--however long ago that guy was in elementary school.

It made me feel proud of our little school that we taught a boy like him who would grow up to be a self assured and capable asset to the school as he communicates with parents. (Even though I wasn't there and had nothing to do with teaching him.)

Those good kids helping us reminded me of how much I really love the collaborative and we're-all-in-this-together nature of being a teacher.

This landed in my box yesterday, my very own Where's Waldo.

Mark said I was the only one not posing.  I said, "I'm doing a Superman pose."  He said, "Superman flies."  Everyone's a critic.

It's our unconventional faculty picture from a very unconventional year.  

Also it was 10,000 degrees when we were taking the picture and someone thought we should wear our black sweatshirts and our face coverings and maybe the face coverings were a good idea because we were all whining about how hot it was.  Now, you can just pretend we're smiling under there.

These are my people and we do what we can to help each other.  There are often "Free, take one" signs posted around for extra supplies or treats.  In the work room, people look over each others' shoulders and say, "Oooh, can I get a copy of that?"  The answer is always yes.

Yesterday the two fresh faced young 4th grade teachers both reached out to me to talk about some of their most challenging students who were some of my most challenging students last year.  (At least we didn't give them both to either of them.)

I was happy to give my best advice and all my empathy.

My first piece of advice?  

When you're in the parking lot and you see someone driving a white jeep, don't take her parking spot....

Maybe it worked too well

 On the first of August, we all pitched in $5.  We drew names and had an accountability partner and we each chose our own healthy habit.  There was no judgement and no telling someone their healthy habit was lame.

Then we were supposed to check in with our partners and make sure they were doing their habits.

Well, everyone did.  Every day.

We aren't particularly competitive people but we also didn't want to let each other down.

My healthy habit was yoga every day.  Let me tell you there were days I dragged my tired self to do some yoga because I didn't want to let Braeden down.

The winning team was supposed to get all the money but no one won.  It was a six way tie.

We're starting with new goals for the month and we have new partners.  Maybe there will be a winner this month.  I don't know what's wrong with us.  I mean, I shouldn't complain since everyone achieved their goals.  

But how boring are we to all tie? 

Can we just be done?

The coronavirus took a win in Pleasant Grove yesterday.  PGHS is home for two days while the teachers prepare and then they're going to do a hybrid situation where half the kids go half the time.

I'm not sure if it's a problem at the school or in the community at large, but here we are.

My students need to be taught how to access all the online curriculum. Just in case.  I hate that.  Because they also need to be taught how to read and write and do math.

I talked to Braeden and he told me about his first day of classes.  He said, "We're all wondering how long this party is going to last."

I'm tired of it.

I know, that's a novel response, but there it it.