The noise, noise, noise

 Yesterday the jackhammers started up across the hall from my classroom.  In very short order, I had a headache.  It is just so awful to try to teach--or function as a person--with the assault on my ears.

I took my math lesson on the road and we decamped to an empty classroom on the opposite side of the school.

It worked OK.

We went to art and I realized that we would need to spend the day in the extra classroom.  We brought our work and basic supplies.

I couldn't figure out the document camera and there was this:  Teacher, I broke my pencil (there was no sharpener in the room).  Teacher, I need an eraser.  Teacher, can I go get my water bottle?  We didn't bring the lunch cart! Will we still have recess? But what are we doing after lunch?  But what about our backpacks?  Teacher!

Uprooting 26 third graders who cling to a routine like it's their security blanket is a...great...move when you have a headache.

They were actually such troupers in our stint as refugees.  During writing I told them they had been so good that they would get a reward.

So during phonics we watched the first 30 minutes of Wall-E.  I invited the other 3rd grade classes to join us, since we were hogging the quiet room.  (My room is DIRECTLY across from the bathroom where they were working.  I'm not kidding that my classroom walls were vibrating from the noise.)

One of the girls in Miriam's class said, "This is a good movie choice.  It's calm."

I purposely picked a movie that had hardly any dialogue for the first part we were watching.

After school, the third grade team had collaboration and we just kind of sat there, like exhausted lumps.  It was such a stressful and dysregulating day and today we get to do it all over again!

We are going to do our state testing in the computer lab, which won't be great because it is in a less familiar place.

But none of this is great.

Ugh.

Turns out I wasn't sad

 I felt gloomy yesterday and kind of anxious.  Testing against the melodious strains of tile saws in the background didn't do much to help.  

In a surprise to no one, having the bathroom across the hall totally renovated can be wearying to listen to all day long.

I realized that since Adam was on a trip all week and Sunday we didn't have any one on one time either, I really just needed to spend a little time with him.

I also need, so often, my sisters.  This mothering thing feels like it would be impossible without them.  It is so very reassuring to talk to them and know that we're all in this together.

This is definitely a learning on the job experience and even though my children are grown and flown (mostly), I still have a lot of learning to do.

I took a walk with Kim yesterday.  We have a really steep climb for part of the walk.  I think it is getting a tiny bit easier every time we do it.

We still would rather be the person not talking during that part of the walk, but maybe someday it will be easy. 

And then there will be a new mountain to climb. (Insert parenting metaphor here.)

Because that's how it goes.

Weekend

 I had a rough day Friday.  I messed up a test at school, which did nothing to soothe my test anxiety.  I shouldn't even have test anxiety, because I'm not taking a test.

But here we are.

Also, Mark called me after school to tell me that his sensor had failed and CVS was out of his diabetic sensors.  He had tried a different CVS and they were also out.  I had heard Costco was a good place to get sensors, so he was wondering if I would try.

Orem Costco had none.

Three pharmacies in a row without the supplies Mark needs ratcheted up my stress just a bit.  It's a vulnerable feeling.

I called the Lehi Costco and they had ONE sensor.  I asked if they would put it aside for me and they cheerfully said no.

Then she relented and said that if I sent the prescription she would hide it "even though she wasn't supposed to."

I went to ask Matt if I could leave early and his door was closed and he was talking to someone so I dithered a minute, then poked my head in and said, "I need to go to Costco-"

He interrupted, "Then you'd better go to Costco."

I like my boss and that is all.

I hightailed it to Costco as fast as I could in Friday afternoon traffic.  By the time I got there and had stood in the pharmacy line, I was weary of the entire thing.

When it was finally my turn, they told me the sensors were out of stock.  I said, "I just called and was told there was one."

She said, "Well, let me go check."

She came back and said there was indeed one, and it would be ready in 20 minutes.

When my mouth doesn't say it, my face does.  She quickly said, "It may be faster!  And don't worry about the line!  You can just come right up to the counter."

I said OK and wandered Costco and ended up with a cartful, because, you know, Costco.  (It occurs to me this may be why the 20 minute delay happened....)

While I was walking down an aisle, a guy about my parents' age stopped me.  (My unfriendly face that made her say I could skip the line was apparently not working with this guy.) He told me an anecdote about his wife and mother-in-law.

Swell.

I finally made it home 1 1/2 hours later than normal.  Mark was very appreciative and I was careful not to make him feel my angst about the whole thing.  It was one afternoon for me, but it is his entire life.

I had a quiet evening and went to bed without talking to Adam, who was still out of town, because I was tired and he was at dinner with his people.  I texted him that I was going to bed.

I was awakened from a dead sleep by what sounded like banging on the front door.  It scared the life out of me!  I have been blessed with a very good imagination that doesn't serve me well at all.

I crept to the window and didn't see anyone outside, but my heart was racing.  I texted Adam that I was now awake if he did want to call.

He called me from a noisy restaurant and told me that I was OK.

After a while, Mark got home (he was staying over).  When he walked in, I called down the stairs to him and he said, "Mom?  What are you doing awake?!?"

I told him my sad tale and he wrapped his arms around me.  If Adam can't be here, I'll take one of our sons for sure!  He told me that the garbage can, which is kind of below our bedroom window, had blown over and that was probably what I heard.  It collided with the shed and was knocked over onto the grass.  (Happily it was practically empty, so garbage wasn't strewn about and Mark put it all to rights.)

I felt completely better so I went to sleep.

I was really just glad the day was over.

Saturday I went to Winco alone, which is never the same without Adam.  (Not that Winco is a fun destination, but it's our destination.)

When I was driving home, Adam called me.  He said, "I have good news and bad news."

I said, "Tell me the bad news first."

He said, "I can't.  I have to tell the good news first."

I said, "Fine."

He said, "I got an earlier flight!  It's scheduled to leave in 30 minutes!"

That was good news.

Then he said, "The bad news is that the flight is delayed 3 hours."

I said, "You could have said the bad news is that the flight is delayed, but the good news is that it is an earlier flight."

But even with the three hour delay, his plane got in almost three hours earlier than planned.  We stopped at Curry Pizza for dinner on the way home and there was not a table available.  Adam got a pizza to go, but there was a folding table and some chairs set up in a tiny strip of grass in the parking lot, and it was a beautiful evening so we ate outside on chairs sinking into grass at odd angles.

The pizza was good.

Sunday was my first time doing singing time in Primary.  It was fun and also stressful.  I was trying to learn their names and trying to use my little visual aids I had brought and then trying to remember to sing and lead.  Phew!  I'm sure it will get easier.

We had Mark and Emma over.  We played a new game and talked to Braeden and Anna and QE (she was wearing a tiara and necklace and ring and on her way to the Salt Lake Temple to get married.  I didn't ask who the groom was, but I hope he's worthy of her).

She asked if we remember when she was at our house.

We do.

Today we begin testing.  I have snacks.  So many snacks.  

Grateful Friday

 Even though my day will be sad tomorrow without Adam around (he's out of town), I'm grateful for the weekend.  

The happy sad news is that we have four weeks of school left.  I will miss my class.  I love them.  I will not miss the regimented gotta go to bed early so I can get up early.  (I will still go to sleep and get up relatively early, but I won't HAVE to and that makes me feel happy.)

I'm grateful for summer.

I'm also grateful for the budding authors in my class.  Yesterday six of them lined up to read a chapter from their books.  One girl just copied one of my picture books and some of them are rambling and nonsensical and one girl's is kind of dark.  There's a kidnapping.

It is all writing (except the one...) and it thrills me.

And we clapped just the same for the copier.  I mean, she's practicing her handwriting, right?  And no one is under the impression she wrote that.

I'm grateful for primary and activity days and Come Follow Me.  I did a survey for Gallup the other day and it was a lot about how I am feeling/doing and there were these questions about my spiritual practices and service and I see a direct correlation, even though I don't have a super demanding calling right now.  It still lifts me.

What a great system!

I'm grateful for spring!  The blossoms are turning to green leaves.  The grass is green.  I have been walking with my neighbor, Kim, and that is a blessing in my life.

Just my ordinary little corner of the world.  I'm grateful for it.

9 volt whether you need it or not

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when a battery dies in a smoke detector and the chirping commences, it is always in the middle of the night.

Two nights ago, Adam was up late working on a document for work and in and out of the room and the smoke detector above our bed chirped enough to wake me up, then stopped.  It didn't start chirping, but I never went back to sleep.

Adam came in and had a few blissful hours.  He was still asleep when I left for work (that guy has been burning ALL the midnight oil).  I texted him later to see if it had chirped (or did it just ruin my night and feel satisfied?).

Apparently that is the case.  He said he didn't hear it.  (I think he doesn't 100% believe me.)

Adam left on a business trip and so I wrestled the astonishingly heavy ladder up the stairs alone last night.  (It is astonishingly heavy to me.  When Mark used it to hang my paintings a few weeks ago, he managed it just fine.)

As I was trying to extend it and also keep all my fingers, I asked out loud, "Why is this thing so heavy?!?"

No one answered.

(If they had, I would have had them help me.)

There hadn't been a peep out of the smoke detector, but I didn't want it to start in the middle of the night.  

Can all the inventors in the world come together and come up with a better plan?  Let's invent smoke detectors that don't delight in torture via chirping in the middle of the night.

The actual dream

 Last week, one of my students pulled out a small black notebook and said, "I am writing a story.  Can I read the first chapter to the class?"

Absolutely!

He is a great kid.  He is popular for all the best reasons.  He is nice to everyone.  He read his first chapter and it was delightful.  It was about a seventh grader who was so late for school, he missed recess.  I didn't have the heart to tell him that you don't have recess in seventh grade.

The teacher in his story says a lot of the same phrases I say and the hero's classmates have the same names as our class.

I loved it.  I told him that when he is a grown up author, I will buy his books on Amazon.

A girl said, "I want to write a chapter book too!"

Then she turned to me and said, "I will write a chapter book if you will."

I said OK.

She said, "Seriously.  Will you write one?"

I said yes.

Then she said she didn't have a notebook, so I brought her one from home.

She happily took the notebook, opened to the first page and said, expectantly, "OK, now I need an idea...."

I told her she was on her own for that one.

I started writing my "chapter book." QE is the heroine and she is third grade age.  They listen, spellbound, when I read the chapters to them.

Yesterday the boy author and the girl author and I all had more chapters to read.

I sat back at my desk and watched my two students stand confidently in front of the class to read their writing.  I saw the rest of the class listen intently to their stories.  

I thought, this is it.  This is everything!

Yesterday

 My students came to school giddy from Easter.  They wanted to tell me all about it.  One girl told me she gets a live bunny every year for Easter.  

"Really?" I asked.  "A live bunny?"

That felt like a big commitment to bunnies.  I said, "How many bunnies do you have?!?"

She said, "They disappear.  After about a week."

I said, "Where do they go?"

She looked at me with pity because I was so stupid and said, "Easter Island."

I give equal weight to every theory I have.  Do they lose the bunny like she loses her pencil when walking across the room?  Do they borrow the same bunny every year and she's none the wiser?  Is she utterly confused about the whole situation? I have no idea.

***

I made the mistake of telling them if one more person asked me if they needed to turn in their paper, they would have to do 5 pushups.  Then they all asked me because they all wanted to do pushups. 

I need to find a different consequence.

***

A first grade teacher sent this to the third grade teachers:

A student reported to me that some boys were telling her that they put a tracker on her shoe and were going to follow her all of the time.

What would possess third graders to participate in psychological torture of first graders is beyond me.

A lot of it is beyond me.

Here's what I can get behind though:  we did our third grade culture program for the parents yesterday afternoon and I loved it so much!

We perform songs and dances from different cultures.  They do their speaking parts with their different accents and in one case language (I assigned a girl to say her part in Spanish and she was not sure, until I explained that her mom would understand and she got the biggest smile). During the performance of the Samoan Sasa, the islanders that were kind of sitting on one side of the gym, started whooping and it shocked the students, except the islanders. I heard parents behind me singing along in Spanish to de Colores. 

Our finale is This Land is Your Land and it gets me.  I sat there, leading them, trying not to cry.  Their earnest smiling faces were singing this land is your land, this land is my land and behind me were the parents from all walks of life.  

You are welcome!  I want to say!  My America is your America!  

(I have feelings about immigration.)