Three day weekend

Friday we had teacher meetings at Centennial Elementary.  It's one of the fancy new schools in the district.  When we met in one of the classrooms, we had major classroom envy.  They had things like storage and actual walls instead of metal panels.  (I can talk to my neighbor, Nicole, in a regular voice through the not walls.)

I realized the difference aesthetically between those classrooms and ours was the difference between having a wedding reception in a church gym or a beautiful castle.  In a gym, you have to put lots of effort into the decorations for a wedding receptions.  In a castle, you could put some flowers on the tables and be done.  

What really impressed us was the coat room.  How lovely to have a designated and separate space for coats and backpacks!  And what a great place to hide children if there was a shooter.  We all noticed.  And it was on the second floor so you didn't have to worry about shooting through windows.  We're all newly into risk assessment.  It was just that kind of a week.  We shared our revised plans with each other.  I think I could move my bookshelf.  I think I could tip over my table.  The real problem was could we get our door locked soon enough and the windows.  

So America, as long as we can get our doors locked fast enough and our blinds closed (although my blinds are currently broken), don't...worry...about the school children.  We've got...plans.  

We're fine.  It's fine.  Everything's fine.

Saturday I tackled trimming some bushes in our yard.  Trimming bushes is hands down my favorite task in the yard.  I don't know how many hints I need to give that I want an electric hedge trimmer, but I'll let you know.

Probably Adam doesn't want me armed.  I'm an enthusiastic trimmer.

We also went to the Downton Abbey movie which we'd been preparing for for months by rewatching the entire series.  We had done our homework and thoroughly enjoyed it.  There were a few inconsistencies and a few way too convenient turn of events but I didn't mind.

Sunday was a nice and restful day.  We had minimal extra meetings which is always welcome.  We only had Emma for dinner because Mark had to work.  So it was vegetarian, but not gluten free.  Because it is always something.  We played speedcheesi, which is a made up sped up version of Parcheesi.  I won.  I mean, no big deal, but I won.

Monday was cold and rainy.  It didn't stop us from going to cemeteries.  We went to the Murray, Sandy, Crescent and West Jordan cemeteries.  I saw all four sets of great grandparents' graves and a lot of great great grandparents' too.  People took lots of pictures, but I didn't.  

Partway through the day, Emma and Mark went to Ogden to see the graves of some of Adam's family members.  We spent the time hitting the appliance sale at Home Depot.  We reunited for dinner at Mod and then home.

I always love Memorial Day and the connection I feel to my kindred dead.  I am reminded that so many of the blessings I have in life are on the shoulders of those stalwart people.  I don't want to let them down.

Grateful Friday

Yesterday I felt all the feelings.  Mostly grateful though.

A few of my sweet students brought me gifts.  They gave me notes and hugs and told me they were going to miss me.  A few tried to persuade me to be a 4th grade teacher.  Some of my former students came in with their autograph books for me to sign.  One of my most earnest students said to me, "I'm going to keep learning during the summer.  My dad asked me what I want to learn about and I said dinosaurs." I asked him if he had ever been to Vernal and he said he had not.  I told him to tell his dad to take him there for a field trip about dinosaurs. 

We did the "6th grade clap out" and Mr. Dawson led the way and one of the 6th grade boys had tears streaming down his face and I almost lost it.  The last day of school is the most happy/sad day in the world.

At the end of the day, my class was seated with me in a circle on the rug, playing a game.  

Mr. Dawson made an announcement 5 minutes before the bell rang for dismissal.  He told the students how much he had loved being their principal and how much he would miss them.  Partway through his announcement, he said, "Sorry...I'm going to...sneeze."

It was a nice try, but he was clearly crying.  My students all looked at me in slight alarm and there I was with emotions already very near the surface.  I held it together pretty well.  I had to.  3rd graders don't want to see their teacher cry.  That is all.

When the bell rang, a few of them bolted out the door at a dead run.  Most of them lingered around telling me good-bye.  A handful threw their arms around me for big hugs.  

Happy/sad.

I had my "exit interview" with Jami.  He said, "Miss Thelma!  What can I do for you today?" (Every time in the last three years that I interacted with him, he would ask me that.)

I said, "Don't leave."

He told me that he appreciated that I was a good teacher and a good person and a pre-crastinator. (Which was nice of him to say because sometimes pre-crastinators bug people.)

I told him that I appreciated that he was all the things that make him Mr. Dawson.  Our school will sorely miss him as principal!

We gathered for the faculty party.  

It's a big group when you add all the staff to the teacher group.  I am on the back row standing on a chair and our head custodian who is up on all the OSHA things was not too happy about it, but he also doesn't love that I stand on my heavily water damaged and bowed counter to staple things on the wall.  He said, "You stand on a ladder right?  A sturdy one?  With three points of contact?"  

Um...

And I love these people!  And our janky school with water damaged and bowed counters.

I feel so blessed that I get to work where I do.

There were presentations for people who are leaving Bonneville.  There were made up songs and costumes and a drum solo and original poems and lots of goodie bags of favorite treats.

I have said it before:  elementary teachers are their own kind of people.

There were also a lot of tears.  In an act of self awareness, I took a box of Kleenex to the meeting.  And a lot of other teachers did too.  Every table had at least one box.  And we needed them.

As the first grade teachers were paying tribute to one of their team, who is retiring, I thought, "I hope that's never me."

That's an unreasonable thing to think, but I love my job.

Passing the torch

Yesterday I handed out certificates to all the students saying they had progressed from 3rd to 4th grade.  They wanted to know if anyone didn't pass.  No, everyone passes. This isn't the 80s.

A few days ago, teachers hauled all their unwanted items to the cafeteria for a swap.  I took my very popular butterfly chairs.  I'm tired of them.  They are unwieldy and take up a lot of space and cause conflict. 

They were still there the next morning and my students were displeased.  "Why are you selling our chairs?!?"  They really embrace a whole what's yours is mine mentality.  I told them the school year was over anyway.  They were still mad.  One boy asked if he could take them home.  I said, "If they're still there and your mom says you can, go for it."

They asked if they could bring stuffed animals today, the last day of school.  School will be all of 90 minutes.  I said, "It's up to your parents."

They asked if they could wear pajamas.  I said, "It's up to your parents."

I was starting to see a real pattern.

The torch is being passed to me also.  I got an email inviting me to a meeting in August for a 504 plan diabetic review.  There's a third grader next year who has type 1 diabetes and guess who the teacher will be?  (They think I'm an expert because of Mark, but Mark is way more of an expert than I am.)

Yesterday

We had art day in my class yesterday.  My students came in and saw ART was mostly listed on the schedule and they of course freaked out.  What does that mean?  They act like I am withholding information from them and only through interrogation will they get to the bottom of it all.

We studied four artists.  I wrote their names on the board and they told me the two solitary facts they knew about the artists.

Then I had them research and write things they learned on sticky notes.

I loved it!  They learned so much and were excited.

I showed them a little clip of Coco, the part with Frida Kahlo in it.  They all love Coco and they were thrilled.  In the video clip, one of them excitedly said, "She had a pet monkey! I read that!" Another one said, "And a black dog!"

Children excited about new things they've learned is my love language!

We talked about MC Escher too and I taught them how to draw some optical illusions.  I read them Christina Katerina and the Box and Magic Trash and then they created art out of magazine clippings and paper scraps.

I played songs by Lin Manuel Miranda while they worked.

I loved their creativity.

 

We talked about Vincent Van Gogh and I showed them some of his art.

I had a Starry Night coloring sheet and some of them tried to imitate the original and some of them didn't and I think Van Gogh would have been happy either way.  I know I was.

It was an exhausting day.  There were paper scraps, broken crayons and markers all over the floor.  There were missing glue lids and experimentation with centrifugal force.  (They kept swinging the buckets of colored pencils to see if they would fall out.)

Any angst I felt about the day evaporated when I got home and read the news.

In another school, in Texas, it was a very different day.  It probably started about the same.  There were students coming to school with packed lunches and soccer balls.  The teachers likely greeted them with smiles and lesson plans.  There were probably reminders about missing library books.  There may have been unusual end of the school year plans.  There may have been a sixth grade graduation in the works.  

What happened though, was a school shooting.  It is senseless and tragic and heartbreaking.  I cried when I read the news.  When is enough going to finally be enough?  When will thoughts and prayers and fiercely held gun rights give way to doing a better job of protecting innocent people?  I am guessing that legislators who are refusing to budge on gun control are also pro life.  Can protecting the sanctity of life  extend at least into elementary school?

I said goodbye to all 23 of my students yesterday when they walked out the door.  We called, "See you tomorrow!" like we do every day.

That feels like such a luxury now.  

Last week of school

I have this many jackets that no one will claim in my classroom.

I sent an email to parents with the picture and said that if they weren't claimed by the last day of school, I was donating them.

Two parents immediately responded.  Amazing how much more invested you are when you bought the jackets.

We played math games.  I had candy to throw at them when they got Bingo in Multiplication Bingo.  I am terrible at throwing, but no one lost an eye or anything.  They loved Multiplication Bingo (and the candy).

I have more boys than girls, but I still divided them up boys vs. girls for Jeopardy.  I didn't think the boys would mind, but they did.

They whined and whined that there were more girls than boys, so it wasn't fair.  A few minutes later, I said something about the boys' team and one of them said, "We aren't boys, we're men."

Hmph.  Then stop whining, I thought.

The girls ended up winning, but not by too much.  

We made thank you notes for Mr. Dawson and Janelle had a bag and fabric markers and she had the third graders sign the bag.  My hardest behavior child was messing with someone else's thank you note and I told him not to.  So that made him mad and he refused to sign the bag.  Every day he is randomly defiant about things that don't impact me.  I don't know.

A lot of them have saved pennies and they are shocked that I won't bring back the Skittle Machine after they emptied it and tried to break it when I was gone.  They say, "But I have a penny."

Yesterday we had our reading party for students who brought back their reading calendars, reporting they had read at home.  For the past two weeks, I've been reminding them every day that they could have their parents email me or send a note if they lost their calendars.  I emailed the parents saying the same thing.

I had a student tell me he did read every day, he just forgot to ask his mom for a note.

I said, "Then you can't go to the reading party."

Another one said, "I read, just, my dad works, so I don't have the note."

I said, "Then you can't go to the reading party."

They both acted extremely put upon by that turn of events.

Sometimes I look around and feel sad that it is coming to an end.  I love these kids and I will miss them.  Other times the last week of school feels like the plane has landed after a very long flight and you are sitting in the back of the plane.  You just want to get off the plane, but you know you still have a little longer.

Weekend

Friday I was back at school.  I was all geared up with a fabulous lecture for my misbehaving students.  They were so happy to see me and I was so happy to see them, it took some of the wind out of the lecture sails.

I did manage to still give them a piece of my mind.  We talked about how much better life is when you are trusted and how your actions teach people about your character.  I reported that I knew they had been sneaking onto YouTube and I knew who had drained my skittle machine.  I backed off when one of them looked like he was going to cry.

They were pretty much angelic all day.  And it was a good thing, because I was EXHAUSTED.  Covid is no joke, even on the second round.  My symptoms are gone, but I am still so tired.

After school, I took a nap for about an hour and then I went to dinner with everyone except Adam.  I felt terrible leaving him behind, but he told me that me feeling terrible didn't do anything for him.

My heart walking around outside my body, in three parts.

Here's some more of my heart:

Emma draped her shirt over the baby carrier and Miss Baby (as Anna calls her which I think is adorable) slept.

They are such good parents!  I feel proud of Anna as a mother even though I had nothing to do with how spectacular that girl is.  Miss Baby is lucky.

Saturday I went to my classroom to try to put things to right a little more.  Being gone for four days was a lot to dig out from under and I only made a dent on Friday.  While I was there, I placed a FaceTime audio call with our family group so we could coordinate our plans.  Adam answered, then either Braeden or Mark, I couldn't tell which because their voices are the same.  Braeden said it was him, so I asked Adam if Mark was awake yet.  Adam said no and Braeden said, "Wait, I thought you were Mark."

I realized maybe I should have made it a video call.  The three of them sound the same on the phone.

In the afternoon, some of us visited my grandma on her 95th birthday!

Here's the difference between a great great grandma and a regular grandma.  Miss Baby cried when I held her and she was happy with my grandma.  

She recognized experience.

Here's 4/5 of a Five Generation picture (we will have to take one with my mom).

Saturday night our kids got together with their cousins.  We were supposed to be hosting the party, but it was at the Carlson's instead.

But don't worry.  Adam and I had our own pity party that night at home.

It was kind of an exclusive group, because, you know, Covid.  Poor sad us.

Sunday Braeden and Anna went to their old ward in Provo for church and then stopped by to return the van.  They sat in the living room and Adam sat in the entry way with a mask on and was finally able to see them from a distance.  It was not nearly long enough, but I'm glad we got a little more time with them.

Mark and I drove them to Herriman, where they were having Sunday dinner with the Carlsons and then going to the airport.

We are counting down the days until they come again in June!

Grateful Friday

Sometimes these posts are easier to write than others.  

I found out yesterday that we are getting a new principal and I am very sad because we all love our principal.

I'm grateful we had such a great principal during all the crazy Covid times and during the less crazy times too.

Mark tested positive for Covid with a home test too, so it was decided that Braeden and company definitely wouldn't stay with us.

I am also grateful for this:  Braeden told me that he wanted to stay at our house anyway because he has been looking forward to it for so long.  He said, "I thought about what Dad would do though.  He would sacrifice so he could take care of me, so that is what I have to do."  He cares more about his baby than himself.  How is that not wonderful?

Then, Mark got the results from a PCR test and they were negative!  He isn't sick and Adam and I definitely were/have been sick, but ???????

I don't know what's going to happen now.

My classroom seriously self destructed without me.  They emptied my skittle machine and reigned with terror.  

I'm grateful that I'm going back.  I had a pretty fun day planned and now I have a pretty not fun day planned for them.  I am going to tell them that you teach people how to treat you and I am not a slow learner.  I'm grateful I have one last opportunity to try to teach them something.

I'm grateful every week won't be like this week.

Day 3

My class is still being pretty naughty from what I understand.  I locked down their computers from afar.  I am trying my best and it feels like my hands are tied and I hate that.

I was contemplating my last week of school plans and decided to make a spreadsheet (I like spreadsheets!) to map it out because the sections in my regular plan book were incompatible with the last week of school.

I decided to have an art day.  I created a day of art lessons and projects.  My office floor looked like this:

And I felt more like myself than I had all week.

Mark has been at work at his new job at Target (he looks cute in his red shirt).

I forget often what day it is.

Tomorrow I get to go back to school!  So that is my good news.

We got bad news last night, when Adam tested positive for Covid.  Like me, he had the symptoms of allergies or maybe a cold coming on.  Hopefully he will also have a mild case like I seemed to.  I feel tired but mostly better.

What is really complicating about it all is that Anna and Braeden and baby were supposed to stay here this weekend.  We decided to leave it up to them if they still want to come. Adam is planning to stay upstairs the whole time, which is heart breaking.  

I hate Covid.  

Day 2

I felt better than I did the day before.  And better is better.

I deleted one million (give or take) email messages and unsubscribed from a bunch as well.  I get a lot of emails that are not intended for me, I assume because I have an easy to mixup email address.  I unsubscribed from MLB Daily, Rainbow Shop (if they sold actual rainbows, I may be more interested), and the Democratic National Committee.  I'm not too hopeful about the last one.  I have unsubscribed many times from their frantic emails asking me to send money and I always manage to get added back to the list.

In an effort to not be cranky, I tried to think of something positive.  I realized that I have been forced to slow down and notice stuff.  At 3:00 AM when I was having a coughing fit and not sleeping, I opened the windows and heard a regular cacophony.  I think every cricket in the county was outside my window.  I kind of enjoyed it.

I've also had a front row seat to the unfurling of one of my monstera leaves.  They are pretty incredible to watch.

I heard from Nola and Janelle that my class was NOT GOOD.  Especially one (who is never absent--why are they never absent?!?).  The principal came to my classroom and this student was sent to the office later also, but refused to go, so they had to call for emergency help.

Sigh.

I feel like a deserter.

I took the learning games off iready, which is the math program we use and they love the learning games. It's my version of sending a howler.  What I wouldn't give to be Mrs. Weasley right about now.  I told the sub to not let them leave their seats if they have their computers tomorrow (usually they love to go sit in the comfy chairs in the classroom library) and it occurred to me that I can use Blocksi from home and monitor what they are doing on the computer.

I wish I could go to school.  If wishes were fishes we'd all have one fried.

Day 1

The official word from school is that if my symptoms are "significantly diminished," I can go back on Friday.  I went from having nine days of school left to five days of school left!  It makes me feel really sad.

Here's what it is like to be home:

• I've been staying in either my office or bedroom which is boring.  
• I have stuff to do but I don't really feel like doing it.  
• Nothing ruins being sick like being sick.

Mark and Adam talk to me from down the hall.  Mark told me to make sure I was drinking enough which sounded like something I would say and he asked, "What have you eaten today?" which sounded exactly like what Adam would say.  He even had the same tone.  He made fried rice for lunch and left a bowl in the hall for me.

Braeden called to check on me and Emma sends funny text messages (she only talks on the phone in extreme cases).

Braeden said it's too bad our house in Starr Valley isn't done or I could go convalesce there.  "Like taking Beth to die by the sea."

So that was...supportive.

Adam called on his way home from work.  I told him I didn't feel well.  I told him I was worried about my class and sub plans.  I said, "I just feel cranky."

He said, "Well don't.  It won't make you feel better."

He was right.

And I'm doing OK.

Just...I hate this.

Here we go again

Friday I felt really tired, but I always feel really tired on Fridays.

Saturday I felt like I was getting a cold.  

Sunday morning I felt worse and by Sunday afternoon, I felt still worse.  A little feverish and coughing.  Adam and Mark suggested I take a home Covid test.  Mark pulled it out and read all the instructions and administered the test.  I was basically just humoring him because I didn't have Covid.  I have already had it + I have been fully vaccinated + I have been boosted.

Mark left a timer going and left the test on the table and went to Salt Lake to watch President Nelson's devotional with Emma.

When the timer went off, I went to look at the test.  I had no idea what it meant.  I asked Adam and he didn't know either.  He found the directions and it meant that I have Covid.

I couldn't believe it.  I still can't.

I emailed and texted all the people and sent sub plans.  I'm isolating in the upstairs and feeling betrayed by my immune system.  I'm waiting to hear the official word on when I can go back to school.  

We have had a lot of kids absent from school. I don't know if this is why.  

I just know that I wanted to be done with Covid.

Grateful Friday

I am grateful to be a teacher. The other day, a student, Jasiel, told me to google what his name meant.

So I did.  I said, "It means, 'the strength of God.'"

He nodded proudly and said, "Yep!  My brother told me last night."  He strutted away, very pleased with the whole thing.

I love having conversations like that.  I love being the one they tell their things to.  I love the way they laugh and smile and how exciting it is for all of us when they learn something new.

I am also so grateful for my school and the people I work with.  Yesterday I needed technical support and I didn't know if our tech person, Christie, was in the building.  I tried calling Camie, but turns out I forgot how to do that too.  (You dial 117 first...obviously?)  I sent a student to the office with a sticky note.  Camie came to tell me that she couldn't find Christie but was looking.  Then, she sent Lauren, who knows everything.  Lauren was making my video work and Courtney came in to check and make sure everything was OK.  

Turns out if you need help, send a sticky note to Camie and the army will show up.

I am grateful for Adam.  He makes me laugh and he comforts me when I don't.  He is steady and measured and so so smart.  

I am grateful for our kids (and their text messages).

Braeden texted me this:

Is it more wonderful to have grandchildren or to see your children shine in their role as parent?  I can't decide.

Emma sent this:

Mark sent this:

I love having that rhyming guy home.  He is super helpful (and also I love hugging him).

When I came home with a load of groceries, I texted this:

The next text was enlisting his help in my classroom.  My students LOVE him.  (He is also a man of few words.)

I'm grateful for my parents and siblings and their love and support.  They lift me and strengthen me.

I'm grateful for the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  I heard on the Follow Him podcast the other day:

If you don't think you can be exalted, it is like saying you believe your power to sin is greater than the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

Just wow.

Wacky Wednesday + I drive myself crazy

It all began with a shoe on the wall...

Yesterday was Wacky Wednesday.  I wore two mismatched earrings.

Ignore the flash of my phone in my glasses...

One of my students wondered why I was wearing Christmas colors.

Everyone's a critic.

I wore this on my feet.

The shoes have identical heels but it was still weird wearing only one sock. My feet slid around differently on each shoe.

We had a fire drill and an occupational therapist was working with one of my students before the drill, so she stood next to me while we waited for the all clear to go inside.

After a few minutes, she ventured a guess.  "Is today a...dress up day?"

I told her it was Wacky Wednesday and she looked relieved.

***

I came home angsty yesterday and I realized it is because I am driving myself crazy.

My books in my classroom have been bugging me.  I have them categorized and my students don't heed the categorizations and it all gets to be a mess and it's not all that efficient anyway.  A wise idea would be to wait until summer to tackle the project.

I get a bee in my bonnet though.  I started tearing the shelves apart after school and stacking books and relabeling bins and then deciding to relabel them again.  Janelle came by and asked me a question and said, "Yes, this seems like a good time to be doing this."  And she's usually not sarcastic, but it really was merited.

I got things sorted and then I decided I didn't like it so I'm going to redo it, but I needed to go to the store so I abandoned ship.

Adam pointed out awhile ago that I'm a lot better at organizing things than keeping them organized.  He also said that I do stuff like that when I'm dissatisfied.  He said, "You rearrange furniture or books or something."  He is not wrong.

It's all part of driving myself crazy....

Disney Day

The Hope Squad is sponsoring a week of themes and activities.  Yesterday there was a Disney Showcase concert at the school anyway, so yesterday was deemed Disney Day.  I texted Emma and asked her if she had any Mickey ears I could borrow.  She said she did, somewhere in her room.  (cue ominous music) I found some!  The good news is that they were on a headband because I hate wearing hats.  The bad news was that I have a big head and they were kind of tight.

I was sure my students would be thrilled that I was wearing them, so I decided I would wear them just in the morning until the concert.  

When I opened the door to let them in, one of my students was wearing a Mickey ear headband too.  She was perturbed that I had "copied" her.  Apparently I wasn't the only person to copy her though.  About 25% of the teachers were also wearing Mickey ears.  

Reality doesn't always match up with our expectations.

Nicole, who is in the next classroom over from mine, wore her long hair wound up in Princess Leia buns.  I told her they looked good.  She said, "I realized on my way to school that I have a bunch of errands after school."

Reality doesn't always match up with our expectations.

We went to the concert, which was great fun.  Fourth through sixth graders had auditioned for parts and have been rehearsing for months.  They sang and danced to Disney songs.  They had costumes and stage presence and I loved it.

One of my students was very purposely seated at my feet so I could keep an eagle eye on him.  He spends most of his day in special ed. and is usually a few steps behind what is happening.  Right when the concert began, he said, "Wait.  I thought we were going to Disneyland."  

Reality doesn't always match up with our expectations.

Unrelated to Disney Day, but related to the disconnect between reality and expectations, our butterflies emerged from the chrysalises!  It has stressed me out, mostly because I don't want them to die on my watch.  I don't want heartbroken children because I killed their butterflies.

We went outside to release them.  I unzipped the little mesh cage.  Fly free butterflies!

They didn't.  Their wings didn't seem operational.  Do they need a little time before they're ready to launch?  I'm not a pet person.

One of them fluttered out and landed on the pavement.  One of my boys immediately tried to stomp on it.

Reality doesn't always match up with our expectations.

Disapproval, despair, (insomnia), hope

Have you ever noticed how easy despair is at 3:00 or 4:00 AM?  During the day, it would take a lot more to plunge me into despair than it does at that time.

My resolve to be happy, to trust, to keep buggering on as Winston Churchill would say, is forgotten during those hours of the day.  I remember comments, real or imagined slights.  I remember disapproval that mounts on my already thriving feelings of disappointment.

It's all a lot of fun, really.

Yesterday I read something someone had posted on Instagram:  God is not disappointed with me.

I immediately thought, He's probably frustrated with me though, unhappy with my lack.

I let it roll around in my head awhile.

My students had Acadience testing yesterday.  For the test, they read to a district employee, one at a time, and I can't be nearby.  Nola was back in my classroom and I sent students back to her once they were tested.  I watched across the library as my last student was testing.  He looked so small and earnest.  He is often very naughty, but also one of my favorites.  I looked at him and felt a swell of love and gratitude that at least for a few more weeks, he's mine.

We walked back to class together.  I asked, "How did it go?"

He said, "It was OK.  I didn't do good on the last one."

I said, "Did you try your best?"

He said, "Yes."

I said, "That is all I want."

It wasn't until I was driving home that it occurred to me.  Maybe, like the person on Instagram, God isn't disappointed in me either.  Maybe, if He were walking beside me, He would ask me how I was doing.  I would tell Him where I was struggling.  

He would ask, "Are you trying your best?"

I believe He would respond the same way I did to my student.  

That is all I want.

Grateful Friday

I have a lot to be grateful for today.  For one thing, it's Friday!  I get to wear jeans to school and we are going to Nevada this weekend so what is not to love?

I am grateful to have Mark home!

We went to his endocrinologist yesterday.  He has noticeably gained weight since he's been home this last week, eating actual food, but when they weighed him at the doctor's office, he was 12 pounds lighter than December when he was last there.  My boys has been hungry!  He is SO happy to be home where there is food.  Last night we had chicken alfredo with chickpea pasta, carrots, peas, and fresh strawberries with a squirt of whipped cream.  Feeding my children is my love language.  I also love having him home because I love having him around.  He is helpful and pleasant and bossy about music in the car.  He keeps me abreast of news headlines and asks my advice on laundry.  I love that kid.

Also, I'm grateful he is managing his diabetes well and that there is fabulous technology that makes that easier.  

I am grateful for Adam!

He is the rock I need in my life.  He listens to me and doesn't overreact or freak out when I do.  He gives me good advice and doggedly does his best to serve everyone around him.  I love that guy.

I am grateful for Braeden and Anna and Emma and our little baby who is hands down the prettiest baby around.  I love the good things they are doing in their lives and the good people that they are.  

I am grateful to be a teacher.  My students did pretty well on their math standardized test.  Much better than their literacy test, which was gratifying.  

After having a sub on Wednesday, it took me 25 minutes to clean my classroom before school on Thursday morning.  They earn letters that spell a word and when the word is spelled, they get a reward.  They lost a letter because the classroom was such a mess and they know better.    The reward they chose was lunch in the classroom and that is gross and I don't really want to do it anyway.  I don't mind if they lose letters.  So that is something to be grateful about too.

I loved the discussion we had about America yesterday.  They are a class of many colors with students from Guatamala, Mexico, the Philippines, Vietnam and Samoa.  And also Orem.  We talked about where everyone was from and some of the kids, trying to be exotic, said their parents were from places like California or Boston.  I acknowledged that while that was true, they had ancestors from somewhere else too.  We all do.  

We aren't Americans because we look the same.  We talked about all the other ways we're American.

We talked about freedom and obeying the law and respect and taxeson.  One of the girls has a dad who is a police officer so she had some good stuff to share.

I also love whenever I read to them and I look up and they have a look of reverie on their faces, enjoying the story.

There's a lot not to love, a lot of misbehavior and hard times, but it is eclipsed by all that there is to love.  It's a good life.

It's not that I don't want to blog...

Marianne texted me yesterday to call her on my way home from school.  No blog.  (Also, I cried when I saw Liberty on Monday and you know that was going to get back to Marianne.)

I'm fine.  

We're all bobbing along with our heads above water.  This has been a hard week, on the tail of a hard month.  But we are on a good trajectory.  We are here to get Mark healthier and happier and I feel both optimistic and overwhelmed.  But hopeful.

Saturday I helped moved some (not all that heavy, but how wimpy am I?) stuff of Mark's and I think I messed up my neck.  It doesn't take much to mess up my neck.  Monday I had a migraine, yesterday I felt a bit better, but I hadn't slept well at all and I think it all came crashing back.  At 2:00 AM I woke up with the worst headache I've ever had.  And that, my friends, is saying something.  I was nauseous and clammy and then freezing and I didn't want to move because it hurt so much but I didn't want to stay there because it hurt so much. 

At 6:00 AM, I staggered to my computer and wrote some really slapdash sub plans and emailed them to Janelle and Miriam.  I had to stop multiple times during the typing to close my eyes and not throw up.  It was a whole scene.  I went back to sleep for a few hours and then Adam rubbed my shoulders and told me that my neck was a mess and I should go to the chiropractor.  The chiropractor, who most of my siblings also go to, is like a friend of the family at this point.  He is good at what he does and also sort of impossible to get an appointment with.  I called and he had a cancellation if I could make it.  Yes, I could.  

I donned a sweatshirt and jeans and if I looked like I'd just rolled out of bed then it was because indeed I had.

The chiropractor visit was dramatic and he said he was going to distract me by talking about his new four wheeler.  As...fascinating...as four wheeler stories are, I still felt it.

But it helped.  I will live to tell the tale.  (As evidenced by me being here, telling the tale.)

I will continue with this blog.  If it serves no other purpose, it is the barometer Marianne checks to see how I'm doing.  My dad said awhile ago that if you have Marianne on your side, you are in good shape.

It is true.

We got him back!

Saturday, Adam and I went to Logan to get our Mark back.  I am happy to have him home again.  He had a hard year at school, exacerbated by being diagnosed with celiac disease.  As the weeks left in my school year dwindle, I'm thinking of summer projects.  I have a few!  One of them is to learn how to feed Mark.  

It is depressing to go to the grocery store when you are looking for gluten free products.  It feels impossible.  But I know it is possible because people do it, so I'm going to learn how.

We had dinner in Logan at MayMoes, which is a Cajun restaurant Adam and Mark have eaten at a few times that has lots of gluten free options.  They've raved about it, but my opinion was that I haven't been missing much.  It was mostly greasy.

A bright spot in the meal was when Braeden (and our little one) Facetimed.  She smiled at us--maybe she was smiling at Braeden, who was holding the phone in front of her--but it still melted our hearts.  We love her little perfect self!

Emma came over for dinner and we played dominoes and discussed a little of Come Follow Me for the week.  We Facetimed with Braeden and Anna and the baby was sleeping.  We let them know we still love them, but...we want to see our girl.