Grateful Friday

Here's what I'm grateful for this week:

 Yesterday we had district training.  It is a pain because sub plans and sitting in a chair all day.  It is also pretty great because we get to hang out as a team (and I do learn a lot).  Almost every table had snackle boxes that teachers brought for their friends. Maren brought two snackle boxes for us.  Teachers are my kind of people.

We had lunch at Chubby's and I texted Adam and he stopped by to say hi, which was a nice perk for the day.  He was having one of his work from home-ish days.  He is kind of a nomad on days like that and varies his work spot to keep himself on task.

The other night I had Mark take Joan to get her oil changed.  It felt like such a win.  Adult children are pretty great.

The biggest thing I feel grateful for today is that we are going to CA for the weekend.  YP is being blessed on Sunday and I am grateful we can go.  It will be fun to be there with Anna's parents and Geri.  So much love for our young royalty.  Braeden asked if I still had the little suit he was blessed in.  I dug it out as well as a Mariners romper and a BYU romper that Braeden wore as a baby.  I am taking them as well.

There's a story behind the little blessing suit.

Adam's Grandma Kate, who was a very colorful character, was crocheting a dress for Braeden to be blessed in while I was still pregnant with him and she didn't know if he would be a boy or a girl.

According to Grandma Kate, Braeden appeared to her (in a dream?) and swore at her (?) and told her that he was a boy, not a girl.

So she switched gears and bought the suit.  (She gave us the crocheted dress too.)

It is a story that he been told and retold in an illustration to our children of Grandma Kate.  Also, about the swearing baby who appeared to Kate?  Adam maintains that God speaks to us in the language we understand....

I'm grateful for family.  Especially the ones that liven things up.

Hard, but delightful

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a calm office job where you don't have to worry about a certain student popping out of his chair every 30 seconds or another student stirring everyone up by talking about crushes or another student throwing a fit because another student said something he didn't like.

It can be exhausting to be a teacher.

It is also delightful.

I have these whiteboards in a corner of my room.  

We use them for "vertical math."  It is vertical because they set up the boards and can see each others' work.  It is OK if they look to each other "for inspiration." They work in groups of three students.  After they do a math problem, I pick a stick.  If that student can explain their math problem, their entire group gets a piece of candy.  The point is that they teach each other so everyone in the group will be ready if called on.

Anyway.

One of the students was ready to explain their math thinking.  I walked to the back of the room and picked up their whiteboard and lifted it over the desks and brought it to the front of the room.

One of my students said, "Woah!"

Another said, "Mrs. Davis is strong."

Believe me when I tell you 1) those whiteboards are not heavy and 2) I am not that strong.

Still.  It's nice to be impressive.

I had recess duty in the afternoon.  During recess, one of Miriam's students gave me these paper flowers she had made for me.  I don't think that happens in calm office jobs.

Also, I overheard some kids playing with a basketball.  Soon, because they would yell "miss" or insult each other to make them miss the basket, they started having an existential conversation about whether or not it made a difference if they hurled insults at each other.

Some of them maintained, "The ball doesn't have feelings!"

The boy who appeared to be the alpha of the group said, "OK, let me try.  Yell at me while I shoot."

They did.  He missed.  He said, "OK, I guess it does make a difference."

They continued on with their basket shooting.

Also at recess, two 6th graders who used to be my students, came up to give me hugs.  One of the boys was in trouble every day he was in my class.  I dragged his desk over to the side of the room so he faced the wall.  It was nice of him to give me a hug.  Forgive and forget.

At the end of the day, I had an entire basket full of their graded papers to pass out.  I gave everyone a stack and they roamed around the room, delivering papers.  One boy told everyone he handed a paper to whether or not they were going 'to get McDonalds tonight' based on their score.

Some of the kids looked like they actually believed him.  

Later some kids were talking about whether or not they were going to show their parents their papers and the same one who was letting everyone know their McDonalds fate said, "I have to show my parents.  If I lie, I will get in way more trouble than if I have a bad grade."

Good parents for the win!

White knuckles and prayers

 Some days are just hard.  On such days, I cannot deny that it is prayer that gets me through.  Some days, I pray the entire drive to school.  I outline my struggles.  I ask for help.  I am desperate for it.

My prayers are always answered.  Maybe not best-day-ever answered, but I keep on surviving.

So many kind people tell me they are praying for me.

I wonder if those prayers sustain me on the days that I am not white knuckle praying my way to school, on the days that I feel pretty good.

I don't know, but I appreciate the prayers all the same!

There are people I pray for too.  People in my family are going through real and intense struggles.  I have friends who are going through hard times.  It makes me wish I could do more.  I wish I could just fix everything.  It feels feeble when all I have are prayers, but then when I consider how much I appreciate the prayers of others, maybe my prayers are worth more than I imagine.

I'm grateful, as ever, for counterweights.  Life is never always gloomy.

I am less tired than last week.  A lot less tired.  I am still tired, but it is more manageable.  We had YEN (Young Empty Nesters) on Monday at Rod and Kim's house.  It was a good time.  We love YEN. Everyone brings really good food and no matter who we sit by, we always have a good conversation.  

One of Adam's coworkers lives in Louisiana and sent us a King Cake for Mardi Gras.  We took a big pot of baked beans to YEN, but took the King Cake along too.  It was surprisingly good for a cake that had been mailed to us.  Also, it was a conversation piece (no one found the baby inside--it must be in the leftovers we brought home).

The big exciting thing that happened yesterday was I gave my students another fractions on the number line quiz and they did substantially better.  It helps when I am at school and, you know, teaching.  Who'd have guessed....

Also at school, we read about the first African American U.S. Senator.  None of them knew what African American meant.  I explained that all of us, except Native Americans, have ancestors that came from somewhere else.  The children of immigrants lit up.  This was something they understood.  Some of the others looked at me with skepticism.  "I think I'm just from here...."

"Yes, you are, but somewhere in the past, your family came from another country."

We talked about it a few minutes and I explained how far back, my ancestors came from places like Great Britain and Sweden.  We are all immigrants.

It's my tiny effort to plant in them the idea that immigrants are a good and important part of our country.  The news makes me feel helpless, but I can counteract racism in my small domain.  That and bribe them with Takis to finish their lessons. 

Here's to keep on keepin' on.  Some days I am barely scraping by, some days are much better.  It's all adding up to my life and the lessons and formation of character I need.

Weekend

 Friday was a terrible day.  I felt sick (like I was getting a cold).  I hadn't had a good night's sleep and I was way more tired than I should have been.  Still feeling the effects of chemo.  

I felt really discouraged about it (which doesn't help).

To add to my discouragement, my students took two math tests and the results were abysmal.  I feel like every time I miss school, they slip behind.

I want to be healthy and I want to live my life and do my things!  I feel like I keep getting thwarted.

I came home and cried and Adam picked me up and put me back together like he does.  He said, "You are living your life.  This is your life.  It's maybe not what you want it to be, but it's your life."

He's not wrong.  I don't have the energy or health I want.  I'm not at school as often as I want to be.  Fractions are hard for third graders.  This is my life.  What I do with this life of mine is up to me, but I can't pick all the circumstances.

Then I slept for ten hours and that helped a lot.

Emma celebrated her birthday in California with Braeden's family.

They treated her very well.

On Saturday, we went to lunch at Old Spaghetti Factory at the Trolley Square (birthday girl's choice) to celebrate.   Sitting next to Adam and across from Emma and Mark and just enjoying a leisurely lunch--we all got mizithra cheese, so good!--was a balm to my soul.  We told stories and caught up about our goings on.  We daydreamed about taking QE to Disneyland.  Adult children are the gift that keeps giving.  At every stage, I've enjoyed our kids more and more.  I'm grateful to be their mother.

After lunch, we wandered through Weller Books.  (Again, Emma's choice.) She led me to the art books and then the children's section.  She guided Mark to the anime.  I love seeing Emma's Salt Lake City.  It's one of bookstores.  We wandered through Pottery Barn to look at dining tables.  (Did not see what I'm looking for.)  We went to Whole Foods so Adam could look for tikka masala sauce.  I was tired by then, so Emma and I sat outside in the sun and Mark and Adam emerged with gluten free Beechers mac and cheese.  A triumphant find for a kid who loves Beechers cheese like Mark does.

On our drive home Mark played the top 100 hits from 1990 for us.  It is lovely to have a live in DJ named Mark.

I got to church a little early on Sunday.  I walked across the chapel to say hi to Bonnie, who I hadn't talked to in a long time and who I know is going through hard things.  She said, "I haven't seen you for so long!  What has been going on?"

She didn't know about my cancer, so I told her.  She hugged me and listened to me and built me up the way she does any time I talk to her.  (I had gone over to check on her and she ended up serving me way more.)  I went back to my seat when the meeting was about to start.  Before I left, Bonnie said, "Thanks for telling me.  Now I can pray for you.  You should have told me earlier and I would have been praying all this time!"

Having someone as pure and loving as Bonnie pray for me is no small thing.

On my way to primary, the two ladies in the library came out into the hall to give me a hug and check on me.

Going to church fills my bucket.

So does family.  I talked on the phone to Braeden, Olivia and my parents.  Emma came over and Adam and the kids made a delicious dinner (while I was on the phone).  

All in all, winning.

Grateful Friday

 I am grateful...

...that one of my love languages (reading aloud to children) is part of my actual job.  We are going to finish Ramona the Pest today.  They are hotly debating whether or not we should read the next Humphrey book or the next Ramona book.  I think I'll offer The Mouse and the Motorcycle to the conversation to complicate things.  

...for snow.  The mountains are gorgeous.  The sky was icy blue yesterday and the sun was shining and the mountains sparkled their show-offy best.

...to be a teacher.  We had Junior Achievement day at school yesterday and volunteers took over our classrooms for the morning.  (It's a bizarre phenomenon that charitable/non-profit organizations periodically come to volunteer in our classrooms.  United Way does it sometimes too.  I would never assume I could just do someone's job for them.) The guys who taught my class were very nice and they did OK and also it was a little like watching a train wreck all morning.  I was chatting with a few teachers and we reasoned that at least maybe these people will vote for the next bond.  (Alissa's classroom was a balmy 52 degrees.). How about voting us some HVAC, friends?

My class showed off in the morning like kids do when there are unfamiliar houseguests.  One girl raised her hand and said that she could do a British accent because she had a German grandmother.  No one had asked.

Another one raised her hand and turned to me and said, "Teacher, when is our field trip?"  They wanted the guests to know how cool we are because we have a field trip...sometime this year.  (Again, no one had asked.)

The class was angelic all afternoon.  I think they were relieved to have someone back who made them toe the line a bit.

...Adam is home and Mark went to the airport last night to get him.

...I wasn't as stupid tired last night as I had been the night before.  Don't get me wrong, I did nothing but rest.  I just wasn't stupid tired.

...I made a realization that I will be DONE with chemo in a month.  That feels different than I have one more round.  When I consider I have one more round, I think about the process.  I think about the sub plans, the unpleasant port accessing/shot in the stomach, the sitting in a chair for two days feeling kind of yucky.  I think about days of nauseousness and fatigue.  I think about going back to school, scrambling to catch up while feeling exhausted.  I think of more hair falling out.

When I think about it the other way:  I will be DONE a month from now.  That is a horse of another color.

That makes me really happy.

(And yes, I allow my brain the done with chemo for now caveat.  I know I don't really know or control the actual plan.)

Snowy

 We had actual snow yesterday.  The first real snow of the year!  It has been the weirdest, warmest winter I can remember.

We had outside recess for lunch.  The snow wasn't really accumulating yet; it was wet and sloppy.  Before lunch I told them, "Stay out of puddles!" and "If you get your shoes wet, you'll be miserable all afternoon."

They didn't listen.  Of course not.  I remember when I was in elementary school.  In addition to undershirts which I had to wear, I had heavy boots.  I remember the lightness of spring when I could finally stop wearing undershirts and I could wear my tennis shoes again.

Now I realize what a luxury it was for me to have those heavy waterproof boots.  Only one or two of my students ever have winter boots each year.

So everyone came inside, cold and wet.

I projected a YouTube video of a crackling fire while I read Ramona the Pest to them.  

During phonics, Riley started clearing off the pavement with his small plow.  I finally shut the blinds because Riley on his snowplow was infinitely more interesting than phonics.

Afternoon recess was inside, which was worse for me.  They were amped up and squirrelly.  

The snow is pretty and I know we desperately need the moisture for the summer.  Still, I haven't missed inside recess!

About an hour after the kids went home, I hit a wall big time.  I had been tired all day, but then I was ridiculously tired.  I don't want to get sick again and I do want to listen to my body and let myself recover.

I went home and spent the rest of the night basically horizontal.  I napped and lay under a blanket and went to bed early.

It was nice on a snowy evening anyway.

Glimpses

I love getting little reminders of what our kids were like when they were younger.  Little glimpses.

 Yesterday was Emma's birthday.  She was in California visiting Braeden's family, so we will celebrate this weekend.  It was also Lunar New Year, so Braeden said he would take Emma out for Chinese food and let her steal some stuffed animals.

Years ago, we accidentally went to dinner at a Chinese restaurant on Chinese New Year.  It was back when we went to dinner very infrequently with our young family and we just coincidentally chose a Chinese restaurant on Chinese New Year.   I think Braeden was about five and Emma was about three.   The kind people at the restaurant gave our children red envelopes of money.  They also gave Emma and Braeden stuffed dogs to play with while we were there.

At the end, Emma didn't want to give up the stuffed dogs.  We were prepared to just take them from her, hand them over and take our protesting girl home, but the people at the restaurant insisted she keep them.  I hope we gave them a good tip.

Emma loved those little dogs.  She named them Inca and Chinta (she's always been a namer of things).  About the same time, we made a snowman on a rare Pacific Northwest snow day and she named him Noogis.

Last night, Mark and I went to JCW's for dinner.  I don't know if it is because my red blood cells are low (they are) or because I have subsisted on a lot of applesauce and crackers (I have), but somewhere along the way after chemo, I want a burger.

We were standing in line and Mark said, "OK, now what are you going to say when you order?"

I said, "No onions, no mayonnaise."

He said, "Good job."

(I am at the infantilizing stage of motherhood with that one I guess.)

To be fair, he is always with me when I forget to ask for no onions or mayonnaise and he is there when I scrape it all off and castigate myself for my folly.

While we waited for our order, I told Mark I don't understand why I don't like mayonnaise.  I like things with mayo in them, like fry sauce or ranch dressing.  

Mark said, "I used to think mayonnaise was bad for you, like the Word of Wisdom."

Adam and I both dislike mayonnaise in equal measure so Mark didn't really have it much as a little kid.  He said, "One time I was with Grandma Geri and we were having sandwiches and she put mayonnaise on her sandwich, so I thought it must be OK, so I tried it."

The little rebel.

It kind of delighted me.  I love thinking about little boy Mark, trying to navigate his world, trying to figure out what condiments were morally acceptable.