No one's looking at the hedges

I love the Progressive commercials with that guy who is keeping new homeowners from becoming their parents.

For the record, I could do a lot worse than becoming like my parents, but the ads are entertaining.

The other night I saw one while Adam and I were watching Abbott Elementary (also entertaining).  Dr. Rick was talking to a homeowner who was cleaning his garbage cans and then the homeowner said, "Don't look at my hedges," because they weren't perfectly clipped.

Dr. Rick said, "No one's looking at the hedges."

It resonated with me.  We worry so much about doing all the things, but why?  No one's looking at the hedges.

Yesterday I had an eye appointment and then I walked with Clarissa and then I went to the pharmacy to get a new prescription for this ring ding eye of mine. It wasn't an original idea to swing by the pharmacy at that time of night.  There was a spelling bee at the school at 6:30 and one of my students was going to be in it and there I sat in the drive up line at Walgreens.  Also, my eyes were dilated and every light and passing car hurt my eyes.

I decided it was OK to go home.  No one's looking at the hedges.

(And Janelle texted me updates.  My student got in the top 5 which is not too shabby considering she was going against 4th, 5th and 6th graders!)

I love my grandma the best

My grandma's funeral was on Saturday.  It was a wonderful bittersweet weekend.

I met Braeden's family and Emma for a quick dinner and then we went to McDougal's funeral home.  It had to be McDougal's funeral home because my grandma said so.  Besides the fact that they did all her family's funerals, they were once her home teachers.  

The viewing was there and I got to reconnect with aunts and uncles and cousins.  At one point, I was talking to three cousins who are brothers, Cory, Bryce and Devin and I looked around at their salt and pepper beards and said, "You guys are grownups!" 

Cory said, "Well, Thelma, you're a grandma!"

I know.  But still.  As one of the oldest cousins, it's a little shocking that they're grownups overnight....

I looked at pictures and got a little bit misty eyed at the slideshow of pictures of Grandma.  My children and Adam tell me that it's OK that I'm sad.  It feels a little ridiculous to be sad; I can't explain why except that I'm nearly 50 and my grandma was 95 so how did I not see this coming?

I am sad. A huge part of my entire life has included my grandma.  She was all the things the best grandmas are.  She was always 100% in my corner, 100% classy and refined, 100% generous and kind, 100% an example of goodness.

When I turn 50, it will be the first time in my life my grandma has not sung to me on my birthday.

We went to my grandma's house after the viewing to visit and the Johnson girls were assembling boutonnieres for the pallbearers.  I picked up my grandma's Bible that was on the little table next to her chair.  I looked through it, reading some of her notes and the scriptures she had marked.  I loved just feeling it in my hands.  I love the righteous woman it represents.

I love being at Grandma's house but it makes me a little sad. I know I'll go back; I want to go and help my mom with the project of All the Stuff.  It isn't going to be the same.  Things won't be where she left them.  It will be less and less her house, until it isn't her house at all.

And I love that house.  I love the way I always felt there.  I felt loved and welcomed and like my very presence was a gift, when really I was the one getting the gift (and being entreated to eat candy or ice cream or at the very least some cashews).

My sisters and I practiced our song that my grandma wanted us to sing at the funeral, along with the wise additions of Emma and Clarissa.  Liberty was our accompanist.

Saturday we practiced again before the funeral.  We were in the primary room and I heard our good family friends, the Knudsens, out in the hall.  They grew up knowing my grandma and had come all the way from Elko, Nevada for her funeral.  It made me a little teary and that was kind of it for me.  I lost it when Tabor said the family prayer before the funeral; I cried a little when we sang (even though I tried to think neutral thoughts like Emma advised).  At one point I asked Marianne the state of my eye makeup and she said, "It's gone."  So I didn't need to worry about that any more.

I cried when my cousin Melanie delivered the eulogy and ended by singing the song Grandma sang to her that she also sang to me, "I love my grandma the best.  I love my grandma the best.  Of all the people in the west, I love my grandma the best!"

It was the kind of propaganda that I need to pass on to my granddaughter.

I enjoyed hearing the loving tributes about my grandma.  My mom told about her service in the church and how she'd had many callings, but the one that she wanted us to remember was that she had been a stake YW president and had to go to girls' camp and she hated camping, but she went anyway.

Her blood is in my veins and I even share her name, so if she could go to girls' camp, I feel like I can square my shoulders and do hard things too.

After the funeral we went to the Murray City Cemetery where my grandpa is also buried.  Here's my no-longer-little-kids cousins and brother being the pallbearers.

Craig, Cory, Devin and Bryce Jaynes are on the left, Brett Jaynes is in the back, then Will Jaynes, Enoch Dahl, Michael Rudelich and Shawn Jaynes are on the right.

My dad dedicated the grave and Braeden and Emma and Mark sang a song.

After that, we went back to the church for a nice dinner provided by the ward Relief Society and my grandma.  She left instructions that she wanted Honeybaked ham served at her funeral and she wanted to buy it.

She wasn't about to have some cut rate ham served.

I know I've said a lot of words about my grandma.  And I also know that it doesn't even begin to cover it.  I'll leave it by saying this:  I treasure the legacy of love she left me.  I want to carry it onward.  

What a day! Also, grateful Friday

Yesterday was hard.  It culminated in me being mad at the world and Adam reminding me, "I'm your friend."

It didn't start there though.

It started with me feeling an increased desire to be patient and just roll with things.  You can see how well I didn't do.

We had both recesses inside and with the wacky week we had of school every other day, it was crazy town.  I had students sneaking onto Youtube when they were supposed to be working.  My school computer is a continual source of angst.  There was a security breach of some kind and now I have a 14 character password I have to constantly type in.  By writing time, which is the last thing in the day before specialties, I told them if they wrote one sentence, the introduction to their paragraph, they could have free time.  My expectations had been altered and they were rock bottom.

You would think they would all immediately be getting to work and having free time, but you would be wrong.  About five of them did that.  Another five copied the first sentence from their passage they were supposed to be researching for their paragraph and I sent them back to the drawing board.  The rest of them did who knows what.  They wandered and couldn't find things and asked again what the assignment was.  

So on the backdrop of all that fun, Emma fell on the ice on her way to work and hit her head hard (I texted Adam, wondering if mothers ever complained and allow me to be the first).  Her head hurt a lot so I was trying to troubleshoot if she had a concussion in the gaps of my day (which weren't many).  Adam finally ended up taking her to the doctor.  She is taking the day off today, but I think she's OK.

Besides that, I got a text from a guy in our ward seeing if it was still OK if we hosted Empty Nesters in March.  What?!? 

This is the older Empty Nesters.  We went one time, back in September or October and decided it wasn't our scene.  There are at least 20 couples in that group who actually go and they signed us up to host? Because we never go?  I tried to be as tactful as I could in my decline.  Sheesh.

This weekend is all family with Braeden's family coming and my grandma's funeral.  I have an eye appointment after school on Monday so I can't stay late and I have a chiropractor appointment Tuesday so I can't stay late and Wednesday we leave!

I decided yesterday was my day to stay late.  I had my sub plans mostly written, but I needed to add to them from stuff at school.  And I needed to make all the copies.  And organize the field trip I'll miss.  And type up instructions for the aides that come in my classroom.  I ended up putting each day's work in a basket.

I don't know how many times you can tell yourself, "This will be worth it.  This will be worth it."  I may have reached capacity.  Being gone from school is so hard!  I can't even begin to warn the sub about behavior.  I'm going to leave candy and say, "Good luck.  Give them candy if they are good?"

So all of this is to say, I was still at school and finally finished at 6:30.  Mark was going to bring me an external DVD player to try out because my class earned a reward to watch a movie.  And that reward was HARD FOUGHT and I was going to deliver.  For reasons beyond my understanding, the TVs at the school were given to surplus.  Streaming services now block you from being able to show something over airplay, so I was out of ideas.

Mark was buying himself a phone before coming to me and it was taking longer than expected.  Even though I was ready to go, I still had things to do, so I busied myself and Mark finally came and the DVD player wouldn't work with my school computer.  That is when I kind of lost it.  All the angst of the day just got me and it was the last straw.

Mark hugged me and spoke to me calmly like you would to an angry toddler (which is pretty much what I was at that point).  He tried different things (he even climbed up and connected the DVD player to the projector on the ceiling but that didn't work either).

Showing my students a movie or not isn't the end of the world, but they EARNED it.  And that was not easy and I wanted to reward them.

Adam came and tried all the things too.  Mark left and I was still a twirling tornado and that was when Adam reminded me he was my friend.

I know.

I was just SO mad.  

I'm working on it.

We came home and Adam stopped off at Kneaders for soup and bread.  Before Adam got home, Mark sat across from me in the family room.  He said, "Today is as stressed as you're going to be.  This weekend will be nice.  You're ready for your trip.  You're going to have a good time.  From now on, you just get to enjoy."  I'd like to think Mark's future wife will be the recipient of his calming wisdom, which he has honed from years of living with yours truly.

We ate dinner at 8:00 pm.  Then we watched an episode of Corner Gas while Adam rubbed my back.

He is my friend, and I'm grateful for that.

Homebody

It snowed.  So much snow.  I took this picture out our bedroom window.  It is the little balcony and the roof of our deck.  This was in the morning and the snow just got deeper.

I talked to Braeden while he rode his bike to class.  He was wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

I wrote many many sub plans.  I created groups of students for the field trip.  I answered a few emails from parents who had questions.

I did laundry.  So much laundry.

I emptied the dishwasher and baked the gluten free breakfast bars Mark and I like.  I listened to this week's Follow Him podcast.  I did some cross-stitch and read my book.  I watered the plants.  I set up a radon test and went through the mail.

I rescheduled a doctor's appointment with an endocrinologist since I rage quit the last one (after I sat there for 40 minutes).

It made me feel like a responsible grown up, but also my mom told me to reschedule.

Sometimes you just need a day to catch up on all the things.

Mark finishes work at 5:30.  He went outside with the snowblower and then it started snowing again.  Really thick snow.  We went to the grocery store after Adam got home and the driveway was coated again.  

I told him he had done a really terrible job with the snowblower.  He gave me the look my children only reserve for me.  They don't think I'm very funny.  He forgave me though.  When we were walking in the parking lot of the store, he held out his arm for me to hang onto over the ice.  His aged mother.  He's a good boy.

We're grateful for the snow.  I am also trying to remember what green grass looks like.  

Spring will come eventually.  It always does. (And it is 80 degrees in New Orleans, where we wake up a week from today.)

Snow day!

I'm sorry for what I said about winter trying my patience.  Winter delivered!  Today we have a snow day online learning day.

Online learning days are a gift from Covid.  Alpine School District had I think one snow day in 20 years.  It had to be made up and nobody wins when you have to make up a snow day during spring break.

Now, we have online learning days.

After school yesterday, we were instructed by the district that it was an online learning advisory.  Janelle and Miriam and I huddled around my desk and created a plan for what they could do at home.  Online and not online (they don't all have computers).  I have so much to catch up on plus I was feeling run down.  I REALLY hoped the snow day would materialize, but my weather app is also giving me trust issues.

Last night it was raining, a lot, and I implored the sky, "Snow!"

It did.

We got over 6 inches and it is still coming down.  I have sent out all the information to parents.  I have warm socks on.  I have created a to do list.  I could not be happier about this turn of events.

Back at it, but kind of

I realized over the weekend that I only have 6 more school days until our trip.  It's a good news bad news kind of thing because I am looking forward to the trip, but I have a lot to do between now and then.  Sub plans do not write themselves.  

Also, things at home feel a little frantic.  Being gone on the weekend puts me behind the rhythm of keeping things going around the house and we were gone this last weekend, Braeden and family will be here next weekend because of the funeral, and the weekend after that, we'll be gone.  I need to squeeze it all in.

Being the planner that I am, my mind is spinning.

I'm trying to slow my mind down and recognize that some things matter more than others and every little thing is going to be OK.

In other news, we're supposed to get more snow today.

I am not a person who hates winter.  This winter is trying my patience though. 

Weekend

For Emma's birthday on Friday we went to dinner at Old Spaghetti Factory at Trolley Square.  They had gluten free pasta, but Mark couldn't of course eat the bread.  Ever since her gall bladder surgery, Emma can't eat lettuce (which is a weird thing, but I've heard other people have the same trouble).  They looked morosely over the table at each other for a split second (Emma loves salad) and I guiltily ate both.

It is just fun to be with those two though.  Adam and I mostly listen and are entertained.  In the car, Mark was playing songs because he is Mark and that is all he ever does in the car.  Emma asked if she could add one to the queue.  

She said, "This is the most intense song I know about bingo."

And it was both about bingo and intense.  We decided maybe we should play it next year during the Thanksgiving bingo game.

I love having Emma to share 

Saturday Adam and I headed to Nevada (and I am writing to you right now from my favorite perch, next to the fire looking at the view out of six windows).  There has been a LOT of snow here this winter.  My dad kindly and heroically plowed our road and Robert had shoveled our sidewalk.  My dad had to use a backhoe because the snow was so hard and crusted.  Adam and I got settled and just soaked up the relaxing silence and lack of responsibilities.

We take our life in our hands every time we walk out the back door with this ice overhang.  It eventually is going to crash down.

We went to my parents' house for dinner along with my sisters and some of their families.  We got stuck backing out of our little lane.  

I texted my mom that we were stuck and would be a little late.  I left my phone in the car and Adam and I each had a shovel and dug some of the hard knee deep snow so we could get out.

Apparently, I broke protocol.  My dad said, "You have to CALL when you get stuck.  I may not see the text."

I said, "I wasn't expecting you to come.  I was just telling you we were late."

They came anyway.  Robert and then my dad, on foot, because they didn't want to also get stuck on the narrow plowed track.  We just managed to get unstuck when they arrived.  We put all the shovels (theirs and ours) in the back of the Subaru and continued on our merry way.  

After a lovely dinner and visiting, when we were leaving, my dad restated the protocol.  "Call, don't text if you get stuck."

We made it home and on Sunday morning when we slid into the front row pew next to my parents at church, I said, "We didn't get stuck!"

My dad said we should start a tally, like construction companies' "_____ days accident free."  So we are officially Two Days without Getting Stuck.

My parents joined us for dinner after church and we had a pleasant few hours visiting with the sunshine streaming in the windows.  It must be said, the sunlight is sort of filtered because the windows are very dirty.  (Later Thelma's problem.)

In the evening we went to Olivia's and then Marianne's (didn't get stuck!).  We visited and Adam and I taught them Qwixx.

This morning, when I woke up, Adam had gone to town.  He had said the night before that he would go if he woke up early and I almost always wake up before him, but not this morning.  There were a few random things he wanted and the Johnsons need heavy whipping cream so he is going to get that too.  In all our times coming here, everyone constantly helps us so this is our return:  a quart of heavy whipping cream.

I guess you could say we are pulling our weight....

A year ago today we met with our contractor, Andrew, about the initial plans for our renovation.  I could not be more happy about how it has turned out.  We still have plenty of things we want and need to do, but it is a little bit of heaven to escape here.  When we are here I never want to leave and I plan the next time we can come.  

I love the neighbors.  I love the views.  I love the owl hooting in the orchard at night.  I love the picture of my grandparents hanging on the wall.  I love spending time here with Adam.

I almost (almost) feel fortified enough to face another week at school.

Grateful Friday

I'm grateful for my grandma.  My thoughts swirl to grief occasionally about the hole she left behind, but they always swirl back to gratitude.  She was a gift to me.

I'm grateful it is Friday + a non-student day because I am tired deep in my bones.  Two back to back twelve hour days on the heels of Valentine's Day are enough to do you in.  

I'm grateful parent teacher conferences are over, but also grateful to have had them.  They felt a little like ministering interviews.  Three different mothers cried.  Some of them are amazing and put together and such good mothers.  Some of them are incredible hot messes.  I try to be as kind as I can, but also candid.

I showed a mother a writing assessment. It wasn't good.

"What are you doing about this spelling?"

"His low academics are entirely a result of his behavior."

You could have heard a pin drop, if the student and his younger sibling hadn't been running around the room screaming and yelling and crashing into things.

I described the completely non-age appropriate behaviors.

"That must be...disruptive."

You think?

One thing that happens is that I get a shot in my arm of love for my students, especially the ones whose home lives are clearly nightmares.  I want to try harder to serve them better and maybe that is the best purpose of parent teacher conferences after all.

I'm mostly grateful for my girl Emma.  Today is her birthday.  I love spending time with her and we are going to dinner tonight.  She is funny and sweet and kind and independent and smart and talented and has been all of those things since she was a toddler.  I miss the days of finding every craft supply I owned in her bedroom because she was working on some elaborate project and I love when she is home and fills the air with music.

And I love when she texts me.  Because that girl is clever.

The Bermuda triangle

Here are the three sides of my triangle:  Valentine's Day, Parent Teacher Conferences and inside recess.

Cue scary music.

In clearing off my desk yesterday, underneath it all I found a little bag of the student council valentines.  The student council does this program where they have every kid make a valentine for at least one person in their class (with the teacher making sure everyone gets one) and then they can make other valentines for friends or siblings in the school and the student council organizes and delivers them all.

I handed out the valentines yesterday morning since I'd forgotten the day before.

What a disaster.

First of all, they all came with suckers so everyone had a sucker in their mouth at 8:00 in the morning.  (Why didn't I hand them out as they were walking out the door at the end of the day?  That is a very good question.)

Secondly, the kids who only got one valentine were mad and demanded that since some kids got more, why didn't they? (I promise I'm not keeping them for myself.)

I explained that some of the other kids got valentines from their brothers or sisters.  Then they wondered where there's were because they have brothers and sisters in the school.  

Take that up with them, I guess.  

If I had passed them out with all the other valentine mayhem, no one would have noticed. Big teacher fail.

By the time we got to lunch recess, which was indoors and wild, one girl said she hated everyone then she was upset that no one would play the card game War with her.  Finally a boy said he would and she said she didn't want to play with him.  So I said I would play with him and she sat on the floor and wailed.

Meanwhile another girl was upset because her water bottle had a crack in the lid and I didn't think scotch tape would exactly fix it.

Meanwhile about six boys were having a heated debate about the rules of Uno.

Looks like today is another inside recess day.

I'm considering moving to Miami.

Parent teacher conferences are sometimes great and sometimes frustrating and sometimes very revealing.  They are also exhausting and long.  Being at the school for 12 hours sucks the life force out of me.

And we do it all over again today.

  

It was survived

Monday night Adam and I went to our YEN (Young Empty Nesters) group.  We're only young compared to the OG Empty Nesters group in the ward who are our parents' age.

I talked about Valentine's Day at school and some of my friends didn't seem to believe me that it was worse than Halloween.  I don't know why it is, but it is.

Some kids come in with elaborate Valentine's Day boxes and some kids...don't.  They bring Valentines with candy or toys attached, or they...don't.  I was hustling to hand out bags of candy or boxes of Valentines to students who hadn't brought any, depending on what they wanted.  I had gift bags to be their receptacle for receiving Valentines if they didn't have one.

The day was amped up from the beginning.  We had hyper and excited children and boys wrestling and everyone wondering when the party was and when they got the candy.  One girl came in chewing gum and said she had brought blow pops and had "accidentally" eaten one.  I said, "Spit out the gum."

Another girl gave me this:

She hugged me and said, with her adorable lisp, "Teacher, do you know why I got you a red dragon?  Because your favorite color is red."

If that doesn't melt your heart on a frantic frozen February day, I don't know what would.

It was finally time for the party and we had a few parents there to help and we had stations where they rotated and played games.  I was running a bingo game.  Every single student was yelling.  Yelling.  No reason, just excited.

They passed out Valentines at the end.  More yelling.  Most of them didn't have names of who they were for, but stood in the middle of the chaos yelling, "Who didn't get one from me?"

One boy brought lip shaped kazoos, which begs the question, "Does your mother HATE me?!?"

Another girl, who does everything super slowly (think the sloths on Zootopia) brought a box of unopened Valentines.  She needed help opening them.  Then she spread them out, right in the middle of everyone passing out Valentines, and slowly started writing names on them and delivering them.  She came up to me after a few minutes and said she needed help.  I said, "Who have you given them to so far?"

She didn't know.

I quickly wrote names on the cards and maybe people got doubles, but I doubt anyone noticed.  Everyone was eating candy and yelling and needing help or a bag to put their stuff in or tape to close up their fun dip so they could take it home.

It was chaos and anarchy, just add kazoos.

They have specialties last thing in the day and for the safety and well being of the computer teacher, I had them run to the fence and back before going to computers.  They said, "But we need coats..."

I said, "No coats, just run!"

(No coats helped them all hurry along.)

They came in panting and we lined up and managed to walk fairly quietly down the hall.  

Janelle came in and found me halfway through computers.  I was sitting in a catatonic state.  She said, "Are you hiding in here?"

I said, "Yes, yes I am."

My sweet boy

 Braeden texted this the other night:

There is a sort of increasing distance between each generation of a family. But the distance is not a diluting of love so much as a distilling.  There is less familiarity between a great-grandmother and her great-grandson than there is with her daughter or granddaughter. But with out the distraction of day to day intimacy all you have left is the love. So it perhaps becomes even more clear and apparent than it is between closer generations.

I could probably tally up the number of days I’ve spent with my Great-Grandma to less than 50. But the love is still clear. And I know my daughter can tally the days up to less than 5. But 5 generations and less than 5 days do nothing to obscure the perfect bond of love that ties a Great-Great-Grandmother to her Great-Great-Granddaughter. That love is apparent not from knowing intimacy but from acts of simple love. From cards in shaky handwriting. From gifts of money for cute outfits her college student parents can’t afford. From smiles and excitement at pictures received and visits made. It is apparent from holding her on her lap and bragging that she is her first great-great-grandchild.

That love is especially apparent from the gift of a legacy of discipleship. From a life of faith and service. From an example of temple worship and prayer. From the temple covenants she made over three quarters of a century ago that make sure that those 5 generations are bound together.

I have not known my great-grandmother as much as my mother has, or her mother. And my daughter will know her even less. But that does nothing to hide the love she has for us and the love we have for her. And that love will continue with us when we are reunited in the life to come, when we and all our generations can know and love each other perfectly. Jesus Christ will gather us to himself and we will all be with our grandfathers and grandmothers again.

This was taken the day Braeden and Anna virtually graduated from BYU.  And yes, my grandma always looked classy.

 

Full heart

 

My beautiful, beloved grandma passed away in her sleep.  On Friday, my mom texted me to let me know because she knew I was at school.  I saw the text during recess and I put my phone down and swallowed my tears and didn't tell a single soul all day.

I knew if I talked about it, I would start crying and I didn't know if I would stop crying.

My grandma loved me since long before I remember.  Her love has been a constant in my life.  My heart and memory are brimmed full of her love.  Marianne wrote on Facebook that no one said her name the way our grandma did and I felt like that captured how I feel.  She said our names like our presence was the best thing that could have happened to her.

She was the bringer of fun.  She taught us games and brought black cherry soda and Snickers bars when she came to visit.  She was athletic and active and a little bit mystified by how uncoordinated I was when I was in junior high and she took me roller skating.  

She was generous.  Once when Adam was in graduate school (in other words, we were poor), I told him that I felt guilty because every time I wrote my grandma a letter, she sent me a check and that was not why I was writing her!

She was an artist.  Not in a traditional sense, but on Friday evening when I sat in her living room (in her chair--I felt entitled as her namesake), I took in the view and I thought, this is such a beautiful room!  She created a lovely home.  I'll never forget the first time I helped her decorate for Christmas and we discussed ornament placement at length and I realized, this is where I came from!

She was a righteous and faithful example to me.  My sisters and I used to stay with her for a week in the summer and she would take us to movies and shopping and the zoo and Lagoon, but on some mornings, she worked at the Jordan River Temple.  She would be gone when we woke up and we would eat our pop tarts and wait for her to come home.  

When I went to the temple for the first time, my grandma was on one side and my mom was on the other and I felt like I was in very secure hands.  Everything mattered more when my grandma was there and her obvious love for the temple and the Gospel of Jesus Christ were anchors in my life.

The affection my grandma always showed me seamlessly transferred to my children.  They felt adored by her and loved her in return.  

If my own granddaughter feels the same level of love from me that I always felt from my grandma, I will be grateful.  I was also grateful to be close in the sacred last bit of her life on earth.  It felt like a gift that I was able to give her one last hug on Thursday night.

My grandparents.  That delighted look on my grandma's face is everything.

My mom said to her sister Mary, "If Dad came to get her, why didn't he come to see me in the next room?"

Mary said, "Not yet!"

49 years was a long time for my grandma to be without her husband, but it's also a long time for my mom to be without her dad.

I agree with Mary though.

Not yet!

Grateful Friday

Yesterday my mom texted that my grandma rallied once she was home and was "ruling the roost."

I wouldn't want it any other way.

We went to visit in the early evening.  I saw two aunts, an uncle, two cousins and my mom.  And of course, my sweet grandma.

Adam and Mark and Steve and Michael moved a queen sized bed from downstairs up for whoever was there for the night to stay in going forward.  I pretended like I was in charge of the furniture moving.

I started to tell my grandma about a trade the Jazz had made, but I could only remember one of the names, so that wasn't too helpful.

My grandma struggles a lot to talk right now.  There was a social worker there at one point and she was trying really hard to say something to him and he didn't understand.

I said, "She's saying that I'm named after her."

I've never been anywhere with my grandma or met anyone, without her telling them that.

I wouldn't want it any other way.

I got my grandma a small dish of jello for her to try to eat.  She wanted to say a blessing before she ate.  I couldn't understand all the words she said, but I did hear her praying for people.

My love for her is too big to be contained and it keeps coming out my eyes.

Things you can count on

My grandma is 95 and her health is failing.  It is clear that the end of her life is fast approaching.  While that is not surprising and not tragic, a full life well-lived, it is impactful.

I can't begin to describe my relationship with my grandma and what her love has meant to me my whole life.  I just could always, always count on her unconditional love.  Always.

I feel so grateful for the other people I can count on too.

Olivia and I talked on the phone yesterday and cried a little together.  Of everyone in the world, my sisters understand about my relationship with our grandma because theirs is the same.  We are her girls.

I talked to my mom and in 100% Coralee Dahl fashion, she buoyed me up with her faith and wisdom.  You can't not be reassured by my mom.  

I texted our kids and Braeden called me immediately, which I think I could have predicted.  Since he was about three years old, he has been aware of me and checking up on me and comforting me.

Emma texted that she wanted to go with me to visit my grandma.

As soon as he was done with work, Mark gave me repeated warm hugs.  We sat and talked for awhile and when he got up to leave the room, he said, "Let me give you one last hug."

I said, "This better not be your last hug!"

Adam also understands me.  He knows the mix of sadness and gratitude I am feeling.  I think I'm less sad and more emotional and he gets that.

I appreciate him.

It's hard to justify too much sadness when you are nearing 50 and your grandma is nearing 96, but here I am anyway.

And I am feeling overwhelming gratitude that I have these people who love me.  I lucked out. If there was a lottery in heaven for which family you get to be with, I feel like I won.

It's the little things

February is generally lighter feeling, but it is still winter.  It is still cold and dark and life can feel like a slog.  There are terrible things happening in the world and conflict and strife everywhere.

So here's a little list, for my own benefit really, of things that I feel happy about:

I am (very ineptly) teaching my class to sing "De Colores."  Panic is rising (for the teachers) as our culture program is nearing, but yesterday I learned how to say polluleos.  I have four students fluent in Spanish and especially the girls are very kind and loving about my inability.  They smile and gently shake their head no when I say, "Is that right?"

Sometimes they reassuringly say, "You're close..." 

Yesterday I cornered one of them and had her tell me how to say polluleos.  Say it again.  Slower.  I wrote it out phonetically.  I tried again.  She said, "You got it!"

I don't know if she or I was more pleased.

Also, the next time I decide to teach my class a song in a different language, I need to remind myself that I don't actually know a different language.

My students earned their points for good behavior in art.  As the teacher of the class that the entire school knows is the struggle class, those wins feel big.

Also, it turns out if you bribe them enough, they just. Keep. Getting. That. iReady. Goal.

I will keep buying treats until the end of time.

Last night, it was Bonneville Night at Kneaders.  The PTA hosts these nights at restaurants.  Some of the proceeds go to Bonneville.  Adam and I went, because Kneaders and also Bonneville.  I was happy all day thinking of my little mini date with Adam.  

Kneaders was a ghost town.  It didn't feel like the right demographic when I saw we were having a Bonneville night there, and turns out it wasn't.

I saw only one mom I know who was there picking up a to go order.  She was holding a little girl and the girl's face lit up in recognition when she saw me.  I don't know that girl; I wouldn't have been able to say she goes to Bonneville, but it made me happy that she knows me.  If nothing else, I'm a friendly face in the world.

It's the little things.

Mondays are hard

That is all.

All by its self, yesterday at school was hard.  On top of that, I feel sorrow for the people who are suffering so greatly in Turkey and Syria.  I can't even imagine how horrific it all is.

I had bizarre dreams about school (specifically a few students whose behaviors are really challenging) and also about earthquakes.

This morning, inexplicably I Heard The Bells on Christmas Day was running through my head.  

I dismissed it as my brain is crazy, but then I thought of the words, "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep."

Earthquakes and all sorts of trouble are prophesied for the world.

This too though, from Isaiah 41:10

Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.

I am so grateful for the people who are rushing to the aid of Turkey and Syria.  My prayer is that the people there feel loved and strengthened. 

Weekend

Unexpected things happened this weekend, though I thought there was nothing much on the horizon.

Everything was pretty typical until about 4:00 on Saturday afternoon when Adam and I were pulling into the driveway after our errands.  Olivia called and said they were in town and going to eat and knew it was last minute, but would we like to join them.

I said, "Yes!" and "Where?"

She said, "We promised our boys Golden Corral."

And I said, "Oh."

We went anyway.  It was worth it for a little Cobian face time.  We invited Mark, who invited Marek so there was a whole group.

It was fun to sit across from Olivia and Edgar and catch up on news.  Adam told them about his recent trip to Mexico and Olivia told us about their recent acquisition of two new turtles.  I thoroughly enjoyed our visit and was glad we got to see them.

The second unexpected thing happened on Sunday.  Our Relief Society presidency was released last week and midweek, they asked me to meet with a member of the bishopric.  I assumed I was getting a new calling and I thought perhaps it was going to be one of the former callings of the new RS presidency.  

It wasn't.

I was called as gospel doctrine teacher which is on my lifetime short list of callings I didn't want.  It is intimidating.  Brother Adams, in the bishopric, told me, "Yeah, I'd be intimidated too."

Oh boy.

I teach every day.  I don't know why it's so intimidating.  I am 100% sure there won't be behavior problems.  I won't have to tell anyone to stop wandering around the room or keep their hands to themselves.  I won't have to confiscate any toys brought from home.

Still.

Eight year olds are easier.

Emma came over in the afternoon.  We had dinner and then played Qwixx.  Partway through the game, Adam reread the rules and realized we had been playing wrong.

So now we have a new game to play.

We haven't tried it yet, but if we don't like it, Mark said we can go back to playing the wrong way, because we know we like that way. 

(If you know Adam, you know that we will never go back to playing the wrong way.  A man who listens to Supreme Court arguments for fun is not wired that way.)

Grateful Friday

I have known in one part of my brain that Adam and I are going on a trip March 1-7.  In another part of my brain, I held the fact that our 3rd grade field trip was on March 3.

Yesterday these two parts of my brain communicated with each other.

I felt like the actual worst!  How did I miss that?!?

I will have a sub, but also Julie, one of the administrators, agreed to go on the field trip in my stead. I am so grateful for her willingness! 

Also, yesterday I sat in a meeting and the person next to me showed me something on her screen.  I noticed that she had over 26,000 unread email!  26,000.  How is that even possible?

I'm grateful to know that 1) I'm not the only one who is sort of a hot mess and 2) I don't have 26,000 unread email.

***

I'm grateful my week of traffic duty is (almost) over.

***

I'm grateful for my dad.

I've been thinking about him ever since Wednesday when I talked to him and he told me all about the ways he's figured out that we can easily winterize our house in Nevada so we don't have to heat it when we aren't there.

My dad is creative and a fixer.  My whole life, whenever anything is broken, I have had a lot of confidence my dad would and could fix it.

As long as he is in the world, figuring things out and ready to fix whatever it is, I feel like the world is a safer place.

Causing a stir

Tabor very kindly had some beef he was willing to share with us at his cost.  It pays to have a brother that is a cowboy.

It also pays to have a brother who is entertaining.

I asked him the size of the packages and he sent this:

We arranged for him to stop at my school, since I was there and since it was less out of his way than our house.  He came at lunch time so I could visit with him briefly.

It was inside recess (because winter hates me) so my class came in to see Tabor and Ruby, his traveling companion, sitting at my desk.  

Tabor told them that Ruby was a new student.

I should have told them not to believe a word he said.  Because they did.

When he stood up to go, they gaped at how tall he is.  All I could do was agree with them.

Later, they asked, "Where did the new student go?"

I told them he was joking.  It was my niece and she wasn't really a new student.

"She's REALLY tall for a third grader."

I told them he was joking.  She isn't a third grader.  I told them she is 13.

They said, "Third graders aren't thirteen!"

I told them he. Was. Joking.

It felt like any other time of the day when they weren't really picking up what I was setting down.

Later, I was in the office and Camie said, "Thelma, your brother is tall!"

I said, "I have two other brothers about the same height and my sisters are tall too.  I am the short one."

She said, "You grew up among redwoods."

Pretty much.

Later in the day, I caused my own stir.  My students were doing a grammar assignment.  They were fixing the punctuation and capitalization on sentences, then they had to write their own sentence.

It began:

My grandparents are ______________________________

They wrote things like my grandparents are nice, my grandparents are loving, my grandparents are old, my grandparents are rich.

One student wrote:  My grandparents will break your ankles.

It was so unexpected that I started laughing and couldn't stop.  My eyes were watering.  They were at first looking at me like I'd lost my mind, then they started laughing too.

They said, "We've never seen you laugh that much."

I don't know.  It wasn't that funny, it just tickled me.

Sometimes when that persistent Jack Frost won't stop, you just need to laugh.

Song and dance

We're doing word problems in math.  Two step word problems.  Because when most of your students are poor readers, why not?!?

Ugh.

It's been hard.

I read the problems to them.  They look at me blankly.  Then I explain the problems.  They look at me blankly.

Yesterday I was drawing pictures and highlighting information in the pictures with arrows and words.  I would have added flashing lights if I could figure out how.

One little girl who is as adorable and quick witted and she is stubborn and recalcitrant, said, "Wow! I...appreciate your enthusiasm."

She didn't do the math problem, but I valued her appreciation all the same.