I'm still alive... I bet you were wondering.

Oi.

I bet you thought I dropped off the face of the planet, didn't you?

Nope. Still here.

So much has been happening in life, where do I start to bring you back up to speed?

Logical timelines are boring, and I'm sure to leave some important stuff out, so I will just hodge-podge my way through this post, much like I do with life. I'm sure to forget lots of important details and we can only hope that I'll remember to bring stuff up in some later post.

I'm back, baby! And I'll try to stay for a while, though in a moment you will learn why sticking around and visiting with you will amount to an herculean task for me.

Current events of my life in a nutshell:

• About a year and a half ago, I was approached over the course of several months by a couple of BYU professors who were supposed to be monitoring and evaluating their student teacher in my care. Rather than watching her, however, they were recruiting me for their Master's of Art in Art Education program. I said "thanks, but no thanks... I can't afford it." Their response was to assure me that they had a grant that would cover the cost of tuition! That was the impetus I needed to make a huge life decision. I jumped into the deep end with both feet and began my Master's. Of course, life is never so neat and tidy. The "full tuition" grant turned out to be only partial tuition and has left me scrambling to come up with the rest of the funding for my education; but I believe it will be worth it in the end. I will get a significant pay raise once I earn the degree, and I'm working with BYU on adding a secondary teaching certificate to my degree so that I can expand my teaching range up into the middle and high schools.

• The Master's program is in full swing and I am treading water. I'm coming up on the end of my second semester and still have my head above the foam, so to speak. I have written more words in the past few months that I have written since... well, since I last visited with you, to be honest. This program is thesis driven, so I will be writing a great many more words before all is said and done. I seem to be holding my own, and I think I have a lifetime of journal writing to thank for that.

• In the process of jumping into my Master's, I've also started pushing myself to grow as an artist. I set up my studio in my classroom and have produced more artwork in the past year than I have in a long time. I attended the UAEA (Utah Art Education Association) conference and as a result I'm now enrolled to take a three day seminar called the DaVinci Initiative this summer. It is a crash course in atelier training. That's old school artistic training. This will be on top of my summer course load at BYU, of course. I also met some other artists at the conference who have invited me to studio sessions with them. I am now meeting up with a group of artists every Saturday morning to work on figure drawing from a live model. THAT is really pushing me! I rely on photo reference so I can work slowly and precisely. Having to do quick live sketches forces me to be more speedy in my observational skills.

Yawn. Am I putting you to sleep, yet? I'm putting myself to sleep, so let's move this thing along:

• We have a new principal at Harvest who is not convinced that art is all that important. He sees it as "icing" to be enjoyed after the meatier subjects are consumed. We've had some intellectual discussions as I have labored to persuade him otherwise. I feel like I am making some progress. 

• Another BYU professor, is approaching me with a proposal to give me the opportunity to work full time at my school by converting my job with the Beverley Taylor Sorensen grant. I won't go on and on about it, because details are killing this post. If it happens, it will mean more money for me, and a full time job on top of full time school next Fall. Stress, stress, stress, stress. But exciting, nonetheless. More on that later.

• One HUGE development is that HELENA IS GETTING MARRIED! Her fiance, Jayce Morgan, proposed on Christmas Eve in front of all of us and they are getting married on Monday, May 16th. Wedding plans are in full swing and I'll probably write some dedicated posts just about all things wedding in the near future.

• Another huge upcoming event is that MATT IS ALSO GETTING MARRIED! He and his fiancee, Kara, were supposed to be getting married this month, but they have pushed the wedding back to September 24th. They haven't discussed many wedding details with us, besides the fact that she has her dress and their colors will be red, black, and silver.

• To round out my updates on my kids, Will is currently working as a "grease monkey" as a local Grease and Go. It's an oil and lube kind of place. He is covered in black, sooty greasiness more often than not, and is very happy. He bought a Civic, paid it off, and has now bought a little Mazda Miata convertible that is his "project car". He's stripping it down and leaving tiny bits and pieces of it strewn all about my driveway. He's still serving in the Army Reserves one weekend a month and has been promoted to Specialist. He turned in the paperwork to go active duty, but since that has to travel through 9 levels of command structure without getting lost or rejected somewhere along the chain, I'm not going to give it a lot of thought or energy until something comes of it.

There is still lots of life to be told, but this post is already much too long. I will try to write again tomorrow.

True Compliments

Little children can be so uplifting.  They are so eager to love, and show that love as much as possible!

I teach art to all grade levels in the school, Kindergarten through 6th grade.  Oh, those little ones!  On the one hand, they can be hard to handle because they are absolutely BURSTING with energy, and when you put 25 of them in the same room it can be overwhelming and difficult to control.

On the other hand, they are so ready to shower me with compliments.  You know the domino effect?  It can be especially problematic with a room full of 5 year olds.  Just let one of them say he/she has to go potty....

.... suddenly there is a room FULL of 5 year olds who ALL have to go potty!  Oi.

However, the domino effect also works when one of those little darlings wants to show some love.  If one little Kindergartener (or 1st grader, or 2nd grader...) runs up to me with a hug and an "I love your _____ (insert random physical attribute... hair, shoes, shirt, necklace...)!" it is guaranteed that I am about to be showered with similar compliments from at least 6 more kids in line.  I get told "You're so pretty!" so many times in the day it is a wonder my ego isn't blown all out of proportion.

The truth is, they are just so eager to LOVE life that I'm sure they would think I'm pretty even if I was a toad (though I'm glad I am not a toad).

The true gems of compliments are much more rare and so precious when they do happen.

Yesterday, while I was setting out some art supplies for a Kindergarten class, as I leaned over her, one of the little girls commented, "You smell good, teacher," followed up just a beat or two later by "You smell like my Mommy."

How can a compliment be more beautiful than that?

Snow and Ice

When I posted these pictures, I intended to fill the space around them with words, but I got sidetracked. It happens.  Often, in fact.  So, now I'll just do that and fill in with some thoughts.

Will walking ON THE ROAD to go shovel our front walk.

We got a couple of back to back snow storms that laid down a significant amount of snow.  About 18" at our house.  The side roads were a MESS, though the main roads were well plowed.  The snow and the COLD temperatures make me want to stay in my house until the big thaw... sometime in March.  It is even hard to make myself change clothes and head to the gym.

Don't get me wrong.  We have the heater running in the house.  Duh.  But, for some reason, the house just feels cold.  It is funny how the thermostat can say 70 degrees and you still feel the arctic-ness of the air.

The view from my classroom window.

We had a couple of weeks straight of inside recesses.  The air was either too cold (the highs were in the teens) or too polluted by the inversion that was making the air so cold.  It made for extra squirrelly kids.

I should also note that before the big snow storms, we had an ice storm.  The inversion trapped exceptionally cold air at ground level and allowed a warm front to slide right over the top.  The upper (warm) clouds rained on us, but by the time the water droplets hit the ground, they had formed freezing rain that stuck to everything and left a layer of ice everywhere.

I knew it was going to happen.  My phone had sent me a storm advisory the night before.  Still, I let Will drive to school that morning.  I really regret that decision, now.  Will got into a fender bender in the high school parking lot.  A car pulled in front of him, and when he hit the breaks, there was no traction on the ice at all.  He slid on the black ice and hit the other car.  It was in a parking lot, so finding fault is problematic.  There were no citations issued and it was chalked up to hazardous weather conditions.  The cops had their hands full that day and I'm sure a minor fender bender at the high school was the least of their worries.  Still, the front bumper of the Expedition is pushed in and in need of repair, so we are short one car for the time being.  So now both the kids have been in accidents in the last few months.  I can only hope that this means that they have both gained wisdom and experience that will lead to many years of safe, accident free driving!

18"

Krav Maga

Helena will laugh at me for this post.  She thinks I am WAY too into this.

Maybe I am.

My principal, Karl, sent out an e-mail letting the faculty know that Krav Maga Utah would be offering a free four part workshop in self defense to all interested school employees.  I was interested, so decided to go check it out.

Krav Maga is a fighting technique developed by the Israeli Defense Force.  It is more like street fighting than martial arts.  There is more emphasis on overcoming the disadvantage of being on the defensive and ending the fight quickly and victoriously.

On the first day of the workshop, the instructors taught us fighting stance and how to punch and kick.  We partnered up and took turns being the attacker and the defender.  We used hand-held punching bags, called 'tombstones', holding them so we could actually punch and kick each other without any serious damage.

I came away from that first workshop with bruised and aching hands, but I felt really good about it.  I got lucky in my sparring partner.  She was young and willing to fight hard.  I found out at the second workshop just how lucky I had been in my partner on the first day.

At workshop no. 2, I initially partnered up with an older lady who did NOT want to put full energy into kicking and punching.  I was getting frustrated, because I wanted to really practice, not pantomime everything!  Thankfully, I managed to trade partners and got another young woman who wanted to go all out.

At workshop no. 2 we learned how to defend and counter attack against a knife wielding assailant.  After practicing the basics, the instructors handed us rubber knifes and had us take turns attacking each other with them.  The defense is simple and agressive and leaves bruises all over the arms if done properly. So, I am sporting a collection of colorful bruises all over my forearms.  The real key to defense seems to be in focusing your anger at being attacked into agressive action to bring down the assailant as quickly as possible by using every dirty trick you can muster.  Block the knife while bashing in the face, use the moment of surprise to pulse forward and shove the assailant's knife wielding arm behind his back in a very uncomfortable position while kneeing him violently and repeatedly in the crotch.  If all goes well, he'll be bleeding profusely from a broken nose, and doubled over to protect the family jewels... too busy trying to avoid your blows to remember he is even holding a knife.

I admit, I get some grim satisfaction out of that image.

The instructors showed us how to disarm your opponent and said that their rule is that the moment you are able to kill is the moment you should stop.  However, he also said that no one would blame a teacher for following through with the kill, if given the opportunity.

You have to remember, this training is not just so I can protect myself.  They are offering this defensive training to teachers for a reason.

Next week's workshop is about defending against an assailant armed with a gun.

I'm looking forward to it.

To Remember, or Not

I am pleased and proud that the school where I teach chose to take a moment and honor the day by having all the students stand and salute the flag while the National Anthem played throughout the school.  It is an elementary school, so none of the students have an actual memory of the events that transpired 11 years ago today.  In fact, of all the students, only the 6th graders and maybe a few 5th graders were even alive when tragedy struck and the world as we knew it changed forever.  However, I think that fact alone is strong reason to perform an act of remembrance.

My son's high school did NOT do anything to mark the significance of this day.  What an utter failure!  They missed an important opportunity to teach recent history, patriotism, and civic honor and pride to our young adults.  These are not tender young minds that need to be sheltered from the horrors of the world.  They should have been given a special media dense lesson on modern history at the very least in their history classes.  My son is in US History right now!  Yet no mention was made, probably because it isn't 'in the curriculum' and won't be featured on end of year tests.  How can we claim to always remember, never forget if we don't take the time to memorialize and reflect on what was lost that day?

I imagine my grandparents feel the same way about December 7th.  Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day.  But how many really remember the day?  For most of us, the events of Pearl Harbor are just some dry facts in a history book, read once and not remembered again.  But the events are similar in scope and national/historical significance.  December 7th should be remembered.  So should September 11th.

So, again, well done Harvest Elementary.  Shame on you, American Fork High School.

Transitions

On the evening before this year's sprint triathlon, you might think I mean swim/bike or bike/run when I mention transitions.

Nope.  I am referring to the transition from summer vacation to work/school.

Yesterday I returned to 'active duty' with meetings all morning, and work in my classroom all afternoon.

It was a rough transition.

First of all, we had the annual "Kumbaya" meeting, as my brother-in-law has dubbed it.  You know... the annual pep rally for the teachers, telling us how wonderful we are, and aren't we excited for a new school year full of bright, happy faces?  Loud music, videos of little children stating what they want to be when they grow up, pep-pep-peppy marching bands... and cheerleaders... and tumblers... and team mascots....

You get the idea.

The problem?  We were told by some high up district muckity-muck that breakfast would be served.

No breakfast.  Unless you count being given a 2 liter of Coke (only if you jumped over it first) and being pelted by candy by the peppy cheerleaders and student council members of Westlake HS, the school our elementary feeds into.  Somehow I don't think Michelle Obama would approve.

After the rah, rah, sis-boom-bah, we all drove back to our own building for faculty meeting.  So, I stopped at McD's for some much needed calories.  However, due to the nature of McD's, they sat like a lump of lead in my stomach for the rest of the day.

Morning faculty meeting was swift and uneventful, but cold, cold, COLD!  I had forgotten how very WELL the A/C works in the building.  I didn't bring a sweater.  So, I was slightly under-dressed... and yet I felt overwhelmed by how very many clothes I actually had on!  Oh the irony!

I've spent the past 2 1/2 months running around in as few clothes as possible.  If I wasn't in workout clothes (shorts and tank tops mostly), I was in a swimsuit.  Flip flops were the shoe of choice if I absolutely had to have shoes, otherwise, I went barefoot.  So, by the end of the work day, I was freezing, and yet stifled by all the clothes.  Stepping out of the building into the 96* heat was like heaven!  As soon as I got home, I stripped back down to summer clothes and promptly dozed off on the front porch.  (I did make myself hit the gym that evening, though)

Oh, and let's not forget to mention the return to commute driving!  Morning radio stations are the spawn of Satan.  Quit talking already and give me the dang music!  I have spent the summer as a mostly non-driver.  Weekend trips to the grocery store and the occasional off peak trips to the lake or canyon constituted the entirety of my behind-the-wheel time.  When biking, I stuck to side roads where the traffic was light to non-existent.  Rush hour commuters are MANIACS.  I live 12 miles from work, and I saw every bad driver cliché acted out in those 12 miles.  If you remember, I was commuting home from work when that lady pulled in front of me and caused the crash that ended the life of my Alero.  Yes, indeed.  Utah drivers are the WORST.

***

Today went somewhat better.  I rebelled slightly, and wore my favorite jeans with a cute-but-casual tank/sweater combo that was more comfortable than professional.  We are still in pre-student meetings, though, so no one really cares.  Notice I remembered the sweater this time?  And it is a good thing, too, because today's meetings were at Oak Canyon JH, where the temperature was even MORE glacial than at my school!  That cafeteria was an ICEBOX!  However, the meeting was really very good.  My only other complaint (if I felt like going on a rant) would be the terrible layout of that school's bathrooms!  four sinks and only one soap dispenser?!?  I hate to think about the hygiene rates for their students there.  Oh, and what is it about institutional toilet paper?  Do you think they could possibly make it any thinner?!?

Anyways, the transition is always a bit rough.  I came home completely wiped out, even though all we did was sit in meetings all day.  I look forward to settling into a daily teaching routine, when I can start to feel my energy levels returning to normal...

... and feel like it is completely normal to do my hair & face & fully clothed outfit & crazy commute every single day.

Welcome 2012-2013 school year.

When Life Gets Too Busy

When life gets too busy, what goes on the back burner for you?

For me, it is always exercise.

Always.

Exercise is something I do solely for me.  It is personal time.  It is 'me' time.

So, when the schedule gets overly full and I am needed by too many others, I sacrifice 'me' time.

I am sure I am not alone in this.  I know a lot of mothers who sacrifice 'me' time all the time.  That's why it is so hard to lose the baby fat and why it is so easy to pack on even more pounds as the years progress.

This is my way of confessing that I only got in my Monday and Saturday workouts this week.

I had my work evaluation this week.  Once every three years of my teaching career I am required to be evaluated by my principal on my teaching skills and techniques.  Once every three years is a long interval, so, when it crops up, my stress level shoots through the roof!  I had been dreading it and stressing about it for weeks.  The days leading up to it were consumed with worry and distraction.  I practically chewed my lip off I was so nervous.  I gave up exercise on Wednesday night (the night before the evaluation) in order to go over my lesson plan and design the worksheet to go with it.

That was after spending the first half of the evening over at the high school for parent/teacher conferences, of course.  Fortunately, Bill was able to come with me and we did manage to see most of the kids' teachers.  My kids both had some missing assignments/papers, so, Thursday evening (and night) was spent helping them catch up.  More specifically, in helping my son get a literary analysis paper done for his English class.  That was fun, especially since I had never read the book he was writing it on.  It's a good thing he did otherwise that paper would have been doomed.

Just a side note to all you parents out there.  If you feel like there was some part of high school that you did not learn thoroughly enough back in the day, never fear.  You will get a second chance to re-learn all of it when your kids go through.  I ROCK at Algebra 2, now.

So, how did the evaluation go, you ask?

FANTASTIC!!!  I got a perfect score.  I was giggling like a demented school girl in the car on the way home yesterday afternoon after finishing up the post evaluation debriefing.  Be glad you missed it, because I am sure I sounded disturbed.  It felt like floating on air to have all that stress and worry lifted off my shoulders.  I had known all along that it would be fine.  I would have had to do something majorly idiotic to be fired, but I wanted that perfect score.  Goofy, I know.

And, there is the fact that my principal had never done a formal evaluation on me before.  He asked me 6 years ago to leave my old school and come start up the art program when this school first opened.  When it was time for my eval 3 years ago, we had an assistant principal who stepped in and did the evaluation (and I wasn't happy with that.  He was new at the job and felt like he couldn't give a perfect score to anybody, so he fabricated reasons to mark a couple of things down to prevent it), so this was the first time since hiring me that my boss actually sat down and watched me teach with the purpose of evaluating how good I am as a teacher.  I'm glad I measured up.

I saw the cycle class instructor at the gym this morning and he mentioned that he missed me in the class this past week.  It is nice to be missed.  I promised him I'd be back at it this coming week.  I can't let myself give up 'me' time too often.  I have a date to keep.  Two in fact.  June 9th and August 25th!

Another Random Blog Post

I have lots of thoughts swirling around in my head, and they probably don't all belong in the same post.  If I were more dedicated, I'd separate them out.  As it is, you just get a hodge-podge for a post.

First off, I've been thinking about my job, lately.

I still like teaching art.  That will probably never change.  But there are times when it starts to feel like it is not enough.  I love teaching the 5th and 6th grade classes.  The are so fun and I really feel like they are learning significant art skills from me.  Third and fourth grade are OK, because I can start to teach real skills with them, even if I won't see results from those lessons for a few years.  Kindergarten, First, and Second grade are the worst!  Those kids are just so little and squirmy!  They have no attention span, and many of the projects I do with them are frustrating for me.  They feel less like art lessons and more like play time with paint... x30.  Classroom management becomes more important than the lessons themselves.  Or rather, the lesson is about how to manage your behavior around all this fun stuff, not art itself.

So, I look forward to my 'big kids' and dread my 'little ones'.  The morning is full of 'big kids' and awesome lessons.  The afternoon is all about the 'little ones' and just surviving the next big mess.  Of course, the 'little ones' think their lessons are awesome, too.  I'm the only one craving more.

I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if my job did not involve caring for other people's offspring.  If I could be paid for work done in an adult setting.  As my own children get older and older, the divide between my home life and work life grows ever wider.  Everything happening at home is done at an adult level.  At work I have to remind myself sometimes that they are only little children and I have to shift mentalities to deal with them.  Sometimes I wish I didn't have to make that mental shift.

I daydream about going back to school for my masters degree.  Most teachers work on a masters in the field of education to move themselves up the pay brackets.  Most of my coworkers are either working on or have their masters.  I'm not interested in another education degree, however.

I want to get a Masters of Architecture.

The only problem is money.  That particular masters program would take me 3+ years to complete, because my undergrad is not architecture.  Working a job and that particular masters program at the same time is not realistic.  Three plus years of graduate level tuition is not realistic.  Starting a new career at this point in my life is not realistic.  Leaving a secure job of any kind in this economic climate is not realistic.  None of it is any kind of realistic.

And so it is just a daydream.




The second thing stewing around in my head is the economy itself.  I got to thinking about the past vs. the present.  You know, my parent's life as breadwinners and my own.

Dad never went to college.  He worked hard all those years to earn enough to support a wife and six kids.  Mom stayed at home and raised us.  We were solidly middle class... with only one wage earner supporting a family of EIGHT!

I graduated from college.  Bill and I both work.  We only have three kids.  That's a family of five.  We are solidly middle class, but only because we are both working and we only have to support two kids right now.

HOW DID MY PARENTS DO IT?!?

They were able to do it because the cost of living was much smaller back in the day.  The income to cost of living was much more comfortable back then.  Today, the cost of living has skyrocketed much faster than income levels.  According to one article I read recently, an average worker of today needs to make about $25,000.00 more per year than a worker did a generation ago, just to make ends meet.

That's just depressing.

It's getting harder and harder to stay in the middle class.





The third thing rattling around in my head is about the tutoring sessions I'm doing.

I hate how powerless I feel in the face of learning disabilities.  To look the same child in the face day in and day out and see that she has not absorbed a single thing I have been trying to teach her!  She is so far behind the learning curve that I fear for her future.  We have been working with money this week, trying to help the students understand about adding and subtracting money, the idea being to help them realize it is just like any other adding/subtracting... just with a decimal thrown in.  Most of the kids in the group are plugging away at problems, only needing help here and there over decimal placement or borrowing/carrying over types of stuff.  She sits there with a deer-in-the-headlights sort of look on her face and waits for me to come work one on one with her because she can't do even the most basic addition.  I ask her, "What is 3+2?"

Her response is "2?"  So I have to help her find the answer of "5".

I ask her, "What is 6-0?"

"0?"  You can see that she has no idea, so she just parrots back the last number I said, hoping it might be the answer.  Not even saying "if you have six gumballs, and I take none of them away from you..." works for her.  She just doesn't know.  I once spent an entire session just with her, because the rest of the kids were no shows.  By the end of the session, she was doing simple adding ALL BY HERSELF!  I felt great!  The very next day she remembered none of it.

And so it goes.

As part of our money unit, I built a little 'store' in the back of the room and gave them all fake money to spend.  They had to choose two items from the store and add up how much they would cost.  Then they had to round up to the next dollar.  So, if the two items cost $12.76, they were supposed to bring $13 to the cashier (me), but they had to know how much change they were supposed to get back, because I might try to trick them and only give back a penny!  Most of the kids struggle with the concept of change.  This little girl struggled with all of it.  She couldn't add her two items together.  She couldn't figure out what the next whole dollar amount should be.  She couldn't remember what denomination each coin was worth.  She couldn't add them up to the total she needed, anyways.  When it was time to pay, she just brought up her whole wad of cash and handed it over with no idea of how much she'd handed me, or how much she was supposed to get back.

Aurgh!

And yet her teacher says she is showing some improvement from attending my tutoring sessions.  So I keep at it, hoping someday it'll make a difference.


*****

Editor's note:  Apparently, I made an error when I stated that my dad never went to college.  My Mom sent me an e-mail to set me straight.  Dad did, in fact, go to night school, and spent many a night/early morning writing college papers.  He gave up his studies 3 semesters short of the diploma because it was too much of a strain to try to go to school and support a family at the same time.  Having said that, it doesn't really change the point of the post.  My Dad was able to comfortably support a large family on his earnings without a college diploma back in the day.  While my Mom stayed home and cared for the kids.  I just don't think the same thing is doable anymore.

Random Sampler

I don't have one  big thing to write about, so I'll give you a mosaic of quick moments over the course of the past week.

*****

When leaving the tutoring room early in the week during the transition to morning recess, I overheard one of my students ask himself "Does this coat make me look fat?" as he walked with the masses outside to play.  He is in fourth grade.  I just laughed at him and told him he was a goof.  When he asked again, I assured him that it did not and sent him on his way.

*****

In theory, holding tutoring sessions on the last day of school before Christmas break seemed totally doable.  And, for the morning session it was no problem.  But the afternoon session?  Those kids were on the biggest high you've ever seen!  Bouncing off the walls would not be a figure of speech, but rather a reality with this group.  I would rather have been thrown inside a burlap sack with a couple of fighting cats.  Yup.  It was, in fact, that fun.

*****

There weren't supposed to be any new teachers at our school this year.  We got downsized and many good teachers were forced out to other schools in the district.  However, this past fall there were a couple of teachers who quit unexpectedly, so there are a couple of new teachers.  The new teachers keep coming up against this wall of ignorance when it comes to school culture and traditions.  No one thinks to inform them because everybody else just knows from past experience.

For instance, class parties.  Everyone knows they are to be scheduled in the last hour of whole group instruction time, to make it easier for the moms throwing the parties to be able to take their kids with them when they leave, rather than having to make two trips to the school... one for the party, and another to pick up the kids.

Everyone knows except the new kids on the block.  Yesterday, I expected to only have one afternoon class, because of class parties.  Except I ended up having one of the classes unexpectedly because the teacher thought she had to hold her party early, in order to not miss art.

It's no biggie.  I didn't mind having them, of course.  She just felt sheepish because she didn't realize she could have held the party at the end of the day.  Instead, she was stuck doing routine educational stuff AFTER the party.  Honest-to-goodness, what a nightmare!  If you doubt me, let me refer you back to random sample no. 2.

*****

Bill brought me lunch at school again, yesterday.  Mostly so he could let me know that he decided to head to St. George for the weekend on a mountain biking adventure with Russ, the physical therapist.  He wanted to say goodbye, because he'd be gone before I got home from work.

I honestly don't mind him taking off into the wild blue all the time.  I occasionally get grumpy about being left with all the chores and child raising while he is off having fun.  But, truthfully, when he is gone, I am free to do selfish stuff, like stay up til four in the morning reading or (as was the case last night) having a movie marathon.  And, of course, there is no one there to make me feel guilty for sleeping in until 11:00 am the following day, either.

*****

Our school faculty does a treat potluck in the last week of school before Christmas.  Everyone signs up for one of the days and brings something unhealthy to share.  For the last three days, there has been a massive smorgasbord of cookies, cakes, candies, and cheese ball platters to clog even the healthiest arteries.  I submit that it is physically impossible to walk past that spread without partaking.  We all grazed every time we walked past it on the way to the work room.

I signed up for Friday.  I did not have any time whatsoever to cook anything this past week, so I figured I'd pick up a Costco container of peppermint bark, or some such thing.  That seemed lame, though, because someone else had done that on all the previous days.  Then I got a great idea!  We've been enjoying our Mick's pepper jelly around the house (I'm out, now, by the way, Mom... hint, hint!) and I suddenly realized that would be the PERFECT treat to bring!  Very few people around here have ever heard of pepper jelly.  So, I picked up crackers, cream cheese, and some pepper jelly at the store.  The only jar I could find, in fact.  Not Mick's, of course, but you can't have everything when you live so far from the Market.

I was all excited to set it up to share, certain it would be unique.

Two other people brought the exact same thing!  And they beat me in setting it up.  Drat!  I just ended up bringing mine back home.  It was certainly not needed, in any case.  Friday's sign-up had more people on the list than any other day and there was "no room in the inn", so to speak, for my plate o'goodness.

Incidentally, I think it was just an incredible fluke that we all brought pepper jelly on the same day.  Both of the other ladies who brought it told me they had picked up the liking for pepper jelly while visiting Seattle.  Is it regional, I wonder?  It was definitely a novelty for most of the rest of the faculty, who were pleasantly surprised by how yummy it is.

*****

I am now basically finished with Christmas shopping, save for one gift for my brother-in-law.  But I know what that is going to be and it will be simple to take care of this week.  He lives here, so shipping is not an issue.  I am also done with the wrapping, too!  So now I can sit back and RELAX this week!

That makes me so happy I am almost giddy!

Here's to a happy lead up week to Christmas, y'all!

A Little of This and A Little of That

I want to tell you about my most awesome holiday decoration of all time.

It's a port-a-pot!

The gas company has been replacing a high powered gas line that just happens to run right in front of my house.  They notified us in the mail some months ago, and we have been watching them slowly work towards our house from both directions for over a month.  The segment of line they are replacing stretches from Lehi to Pleasant Grove and crosses through the heart of American Fork.  We are right in the middle and they seemed to decide to save us for last for some fun reason.  So we are under heavy construction for the holidays.  And to make it even more perfect?  The workers planted their Honey Bucket in our front yard!  Nothing says Merry Christmas quite like a portable toilet.  It is very National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, I must say, and I am itching to hang a wreath on the door and maybe even string some lights on that bad boy.

They should hopefully be done and gone before Christmas actually hits.  But in the meantime, we've had to park our cars at the rec. center lower parking lot and walk in to our house during the day, because there is a huge trench cutting off our driveway.  The construction crews place steel plates over the trench in the evenings before they leave for the day, so we can bring our cars home, and they wait til we leave in the morning before lifting the plates back off again.

That brings me to item no. 2 of 'This and That'.

My car wouldn't start yesterday morning.

Gah!

Everyone else had already left for work/school.  I really needed to get to work, but the car battery was dead.

Now, I had a momentary thought about asking the construction workers for help.  But, of course, I just had to be independent about it.  I texted Helena, instructing her to come back home with the Expedition so I could use it to get to work.  Helena was on her way home, when a construction worker knocked on my door.  They had noticed I was having car troubles and could they help?  I should have just asked them for help in the first place!

So, Helena was extremely late to first period, and I was 20 minutes late to work... which for most people's jobs would be no big deal.  I had students waiting for me.  Double Gah!

I was SO STRESSED OUT!  I was feeling very picked on that morning.

And then Bill sent a text.

He was working in the area and wanted to have lunch together.  He brought Rubio's to the school, we ate it in my classroom and had a little mini lunch date.  He had no idea I'd had such a rough morning (I hadn't told him about the car, yet).

That just turned my whole day around!  I don't know if it was coincidence, luck, or providence that prompted Bill to set up that lunch date on that particular day, but I sure was grateful!

Wallowing

Today was a seriously horrible day, for lots of reasons that I don't want to go into right now.  I could spend paragraph after paragraph telling you all about all the things that went wrong today that left me in tears more than once over the course of the day, and over different reasons each time.

But I won't.  One; I don't want to relive the feelings I have been feeling and writing them down will just make me cry again.  Two; I don't want to be consoled and told that everything will be alright if I just do A, B, and/or C.  And three; telling it won't make it go away or fix any of it.

So, with that completely unfulfilling post I will say good night.  I hope things will seem brighter in the morning, because life seems very bleak to me in the dark of this night.

Overwhelmed

I can tell when I am getting overwhelmed.  I start missing scheduled events on accident.

I forgot to take Will to his check up at the doctor's office.  I keep forgetting to call and reschedule it (I only remember after hours).

I forgot that faculty meeting had been moved to Tuesday instead of Wednesday and missed it.

I forgot to bring scissors and crayons to the tutoring sessions (that was easy to fix, though).

I forgot to attend an art show that had one of my pieces displayed in it.  That is really bad.

I feel like a pre-emerging Alzheimer's patient when this starts to happen.  I know the cure, though, because it has happened before.

I need to find balance in my life again.  Either I find my equilibrium with this new schedule, or I find a way to reduce stress.  I'll let you know if I ever figure it out.  In the meantime, I hope I don't drop the ball on any more events.  Time to use the obnoxious calendar alarms on my phone.

Dark Thoughts

I am sorry I have been absent for a few days.  I have been struggling with something for about a week now, and am still trying to come to grips with life as I know it.

Don't panic.  It is nothing earth shattering.  My family is healthy.  My marriage is strong.  I still have a job.  When looking at it that way, I really have nothing to complain about.  Still...

Last week, my boss approached me with an offer of more work.  You may remember that the district forced him to cut my contract, resulting in a net loss of over $500 a month, or about $6,300 less for the year.  The cut in pay couldn't have come at a worse time for our family, since Bill's bike accident put him out of work for 6 weeks and wrecked havoc with our finances.  My boss was sympathetic to our situation and frustrated at being forced to reduce the arts in the school (as a side note, the forced cuts in the art programs also had the terrible side effect of destroying the after school choir and orchestra that he was so proud of, too).

So.  My principal offered me a job tutoring small groups of students who are struggling with key core concepts.  It pays hourly and sandwiches before and after my actual contracted time as the visual arts teacher.  The hourly pay rate is terrible ($8.37), so he sweetened the offer by including a $2000.00 stipend to make it worth my time.  After talking it over with Bill, I accepted the position because, dang it!, we need the money.

If it weren't for that need, I probably wouldn't do it.

"But why not?!?"  You wonder.

Well, besides the fact that I like working part time much better than full time?

To fully answer that question a flashback is in order.

It is the 2002/2003 school year.  It is going to be my third year teaching, and I have agreed to transition from the part time visual arts teacher position I have held for the past two years to being a full time 6th grade core teacher.  Two of the teachers from the 6th grade team retired at the end of the previous year, and the one remaining teacher recruited me to join her because she liked my teaching style and thought we'd make a good team.  I was flattered, of course.  And the increase in work load would also double my salary.  


The year started out OK.  I am still stuck in a trailer, which feels very isolating.  My greatest worries, though, are for the kids in my class who are performing well below grade level.  What in the world am I supposed to do with 6th graders who are reading on a FIRST grade level?!?  They do go to resource for language arts, but they come back to me for science and they can't read even the most simple texts.  I have my students keep daily journals.  Whenever Travis bothers to write in his, it says "i hate skol. i hate skol. i hate skol..." over and over.  How can I blame him when it is all so much over his ability level?  How did he fall so far behind and how am I supposed to catch him up 5 grade levels in one year... especially since he 'hates skol'?!?


We have been in school for two months now.  The principal called me in to his office to let me know that he got a call from the superintendent about me.  Apparently, there is a parent who wants her child taken out of my class immediately because I yell all the time.  ?!?  What?  She says her daughter cries every morning and doesn't want to come to school because I am so mean.  I am flabbergasted.  This is my star student!  She is the best behaved, sweetest girl in the class.  She is very quiet, yes.  But she is always willing to answer and I would never have thought she was crying right before school or was reluctant to come to my class!  The mom and dad (in his cop uniform) ambush me in the library wanting to know why I yell at the class.  I don't!  It is true that there are a couple of difficult boys in the class, but the class as a whole is just fine.  The principal is frustrated that the parents jumped right over every one's heads and went straight to the superintendent without even talking to me first... or him for that matter.  So, my star pupil is moved to the class the parent's insist on to smooth things over.  I find out later that her best friend was in that class.  Opinions on the faculty are that the little girl manipulated her way into getting into the same class as her best friend.  Still, my confidence has been shattered.  I am gun shy of every parent contact, now. 


Four months into school.  I am having difficulty sleeping.  My mind keeps jolting me awake with anxieties over the low performing students in my class.  I am so tired and worn out stressing over other people's children that I have no patience to deal with my own.  My children are in after school day care for a couple of hours every day while I work and they are picking up some dirty language and ugly behaviors.  Another student is pulled out of my class.  This time, his parents decide to home school him because he isn't 'getting what he needs' from me.  He never got his work done in class, never took his homework home, and just kept cramming it all into his extremely messy desk.  I did everything I could think of to get him to stay on task, do his work, and keep his desk clean.  I wish his mother better luck than I had.  Still, another perceived failure and my self esteem takes another blow.


It is the end of the year and time for core testing.  They don't let me see what is on the tests (to keep me from teaching to the test), but the other teachers have all gone through the testing process before and know what the questions will be like.  I don't have any idea and I'm terrified I haven't prepared my students enough!  Testing will take a week or two.  One of my students takes two minutes flat to fill in random bubbles and hands over the test with a cheeky grin.  He knows that I know he just blew off the test.  He doesn't care.  Does he know that my perceived effectiveness as a teacher is based on his answers to this test?!  I encourage him to take his time and check his answers (to take the test seriously), but he refuses and insists he is done with the test.  Mike, my most troublesome student, gets expelled from school half way through the tests.  He has been so difficult to deal with all year that the school recommended he be put into a special unit for students with behavioral disorders.  The special unit wouldn't take him because his parents wouldn't cooperate with them.  So he remained with me... that is until he beat up a younger student on the playground and threatened the playground aide.  His tests get turned in with half the bubbles blank since he wasn't around to finish them.  That ends up showing on my class results, too.

That was the only year I worked full time as a core teacher.  It was so full of pain and angst for me, that I decided the money simply wasn't worth it and I requested a return to the part time visual arts position... which was granted, though I was welcome to stay in the 6th grade position, too.

I love my job as an art teacher!  I love what I teach and most of the kids are very well behaved in my classroom because everyone enjoys art.  There is no concrete leveling.  You don't see people label kids as being on a 1st grade level in art when they should be on a 6th grade level.  It doesn't keep me up at night and I have never had a parent request to have a child taken out of my art class.

The extra work my principal has given me is a new program implemented in the district called 'Double Dosing'.  In this program, students who are struggling are identified by their core teacher and invited to attend before or after school tutoring sessions in the core concept that needs to be strengthened.  I am to be that tutor.  I am working with the 3rd and 4th grades.  Currently, I am working with 3rd graders who still struggle with addition fact families.  That means basic addition like 5+6=11.  These kids are still working that one out on their fingers at a time when they are supposed to be ready to start learning multiplication.  Some of the kids are only struggling a little and are quick to catch on to my game/lessons.  But there are a few that are giving me flashbacks to those struggling 6th graders.  For instance...

This morning, I was working with them on the fact family of 9+7=16.  We had talked about using 10+7=17 as a strategy for helping us to figure this one out, then we wrote the full fact family...

9+7=16

7+9=16

16-9=7

16-7= ...

Then I asked one of the little girls to supply the final answer.  She sat there puzzled, with a deer in the headlights sort of glazed look and said, "5?"  Oh!  I'd hate to know what it feels like to see the world through her brain!  She must live in a constant state of confusion.  It makes me sad for her, but also very anxious because I don't know how to get through to her!

Aurgh!  I have only been doing this for a few days and I am already feeling my stress levels climb through the roof!  I am losing sleep over trying to figure out how to help them succeed.  Literally.  I woke up 5 times last night feeling anxious.

And, just in case I wasn't feeling stressed enough... I got a phone call from the high school orchestra teacher on Monday.  Apparently, Helena hasn't shown up for class in over a week!  I was at a conference down at Utah Valley University at the time I got that news.  A quick phone conversation with Helena ensued, and I cut my conference attendance short (I missed the last presentation) to go home and have a mother/daughter conference, instead.  She doesn't want to do orchestra anymore.  I don't want to pay my bills anymore, but that is still happening!  She agreed that there are things we have to do, even if we don't want to.  She meekly apologized to both me and her orchestra teacher and resumed attending the class.

Then there is the fact that both of my kids have 'locked' credits because they need to make up tardies (absences in Helena's case) at tardy/attendance school.

Season ski passes are only offered through Halloween and I really wanted to get one for Will, but I am not sure if I can come up with the money.  And the marathon registration fee will go up by $10 by then, too, if I don't register early.  I hate money.

Oh, and Bill wants to get the ball rolling on a house refinance since rates are so low right now.  I think it would be great to save some money (of course!), but I just dread the additional paperwork and deadlines involved.  Just right now I want to crawl in a whole and disappear for a month or so.

Sorry for the long winded and very depressing post.  I have been trying to weed my way through my feelings and needed to compose them on paper (computer screen) to analyze them.  I think what I have found is that I am not one of those people who thrive on adversity and challenges.  There are lots of jobs out there that are much more stressful than teaching.  There are also teachers who deal with much more difficult and daunting challenges than trying to tutor a few struggling students.  I know that.  I certainly don't deserve any sympathy on that score.  Big deal that I now put in more hours than I wanted to?  Or that I have returned to teaching high stakes subjects?  We all have to do things we don't want to in this life.

I have also wondered why I am so 'normal' for an artist.  You know what I mean.  Most artists have ... interesting ... personalities and some could be described as downright ... odd.  weird.  messed up.

I think I am so 'normal' because I avoid confrontations of all sorts.  I thrive on peace.  I am very laissez-faire.  What will be will be and all that.  When I am faced with a situation that doesn't fit those parameters (like trying to get students caught up to grade level when the odds are stacked against it, or parenting a teen for that matter), I start to freak out.  Headaches, Insomnia.  Distracted thoughts.  Feelings of panic.  Depression.  Dang.  I AM one of those crazy artists.

Halloween Portraits?

I have been playing around with Picnik, trying to figure out a way I can get my 6th graders to make a Halloween portrait.  I think it would be super fun...

...if.

If I could arrange for them to all use the premium features.  The free features are not nearly as cool as the premium ones.  I purchased a premium membership for my family, but I don't ethically think that extends to all my students.

If I could make sure they keep their portraits rated G on the gore and violence scale.  There are options that are just too over the top for elementary students.  Blood, injuries, and guts.  However, there are fun fangs, glowing eyes, and other fun (non-slasher movie) things they could enjoy, too.

Here are some portraits I created this evening that range from slightly creepy in a fun way, to down right disturbing and almost scary.  They are all from the same base photo of me.

 Ghost me.

 Creepy-up-to-no-good me.

 Slightly disturbing and headed toward slasher flick me.

Out and out over the top slasher movie she's gonna die me.

Hey, look!  I'm an ogre!  I think the boys in the class will like this one.

So.  I have a week or two to decide.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Caught Red Handed

My student teacher was sick today.  That meant I was running the show today.  The day went relatively glitch free until the very end.  The final class of the day is first grade.  They are painting their very own Starry Night pictures using oil pastels.

At least, they are SUPPOSED to be painting their pictures.

One little boy decided to paint something else, instead.

His hands.

Red.

He got caught literally 'red handed' during clean up time.  I have to tell you.  I am not the nicey-nice teacher when I catch someone who has misbehaved.  I made him look me in the eye and tell me exactly what he did.  Of course, I already knew... I just wanted him to squirm over having to confess.  Then, after ascertaining that he was a 'later gator' (a B-track student heading to recess from my class instead of an A-track student heading for home), I informed him that he would just have to give up his recess, stay in the art room, and scrub his hands clean... because oil pastel doesn't come off very easily.

Oh, you should have seen the hang-dog look on his face!  You would have thought his pet dragon had died.

So, after seeing all the rest of the students out the door when the bell rang, I walked over to the sink where he was waiting with a very gloomy look on his face.

I asked. "What have you learned?"

"I don't know."  He mumbled tearfully.

My older students know I won't let them go until they are able to give me a satisfactory answer on that one, but I cut the 6 year old some slack.  So, I patiently guided him through the thought process that oil pastels are for paper, not skin, and that he would NEVER EVER want to do it again!

Then we scrubbed his hands clean and I sent him out the door with a high five and a smile...


 ...to enjoy the rest of his recess.

Always Remember

From a 'Proud American' to a 'Fierce Patriot'

What Older Generations Have Been Trying to Tell Us All Along, but We Were Forced to Learn from Experience

Publish Date: 09/10/2011

I used to 'roll my eyes' whenever older generations talked about how everyone could remember exactly what they were doing when a national tragedy struck. In my grandparents' generation it was the attack on Pearl Harbor that catapulted us into WWII. In my parents' generation is was the Kennedy assassination.
For my generation is was 9/11/2001.

It was a normal day.

I was getting ready for work. The kids were getting ready for school. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Until my husband called.

He leaves for work quite early in the mornings, so he was already at work when he called. He said, "Turn on the TV. Now."

I asked him what channel? He said, "It doesn't matter."

I walked into the living room and turned it on.

And found the world changed.

I had just barely begun to process what I was seeing, what they were saying, and what it meant when the south tower collapsed.

Live.

It was so surreal. My mind was thinking, 'that can't be real. It looks just like something you'd see in the movies, or on a planned demolition. How can it go straight down like that?' Simultaneously, my heart was twisting and tearing apart because I knew... I KNEW ... I was witnessing the deaths of thousands.

I remember grabbing the doorjamb for support as I cried out and tears coursed down my face. I kept saying aloud, "Oh please, God! Let them all be out of the building!!! Oh! They can't all have gotten out, yet!!!" My young daughter, only 7 at the time, came in and wanted to know why I was crying. "What's wrong, Mommy?" she asked.

I wasn't sure how to tell her what was wrong, or what it would mean to our country. I just knew I didn't want her seeing what I was seeing. She was so young. So innocent. I remember telling her I was sad that a lot of people had died. I also hugged her tight and told her that everything would be alright and she should go finish getting ready for school. Then I sent her firmly out of the room.

But I kept watching.

At some point I forced myself to turn off the TV and get out the door for work. I am an art teacher, working part time. When we got to the school, I walked around in a daze. The surreal feeling intensified for me because the school was just too quiet. Too normal. My mind was screaming and ripping itself apart over the images that were burned into my brain. How could anything be normal again?

Of course, things weren't normal. All of the teachers knew what had happened and were robotically going about their routines in a state of shock. The administration made the quick decision to not allow live news coverage in the elementary school classrooms. I do think that was for the best. We aren't talking about teenaged students here. These were very young children who couldn't possibly process what was going on. The school library was closed down for the day and the TV there was left running so that the adults in the building could stop in as often as possible and stay informed.

I didn't realize until I got home later that day that my husband was spared the trauma of seeing the buildings collapse live. He was listening on the radio when he called me. Of course, we all watched the events of that morning unfold hundreds of times afterwards, in a never ending loop of pain. But that first moment? Of realizing I was witnessing mass murder AS IT WAS HAPPENING? I can't even begin to describe it. It will never leave me.

I will never forget.

Do you remember how silent the skies were that day? When every flight was grounded? You never realize the background noise of planes on approach to the airport until there are no planes on approach.

Do you remember the pride you felt in the heroes of Flight 93? How brave and terrified they must have been! How they made an impossible choice that changed the tone of everything? They were Americans, fighting back!

Do you remember how much we honored firefighters, police men, and even the thousands of construction workers and volunteers who risked their lives in the aftermath?

Do you remember how our country came together? We were so UNITED! It no longer mattered what your religious or political credo was. We were all American. Every American flag was out, lining the streets, hanging from homes, flying from cars.

Do you remember how full the church congregations were? Everyone turning to their faith to see them through those dark times.

In the weeks and months following that horrific day we became the nation we were meant to be. Strong, caring, compassionate...

... united.

My brothers went to war. Jeff, a Naval officer, served several tours of duty to Iraq and Afghanistan. He came back with amazing stories... and bullet holes in his plane. Peder, an Army Special Forces officer, also served several tours ... including a lot of time on the ground in Baghdad. His stories were also incredible, though it was the stories that he didn't tell that made my heart ache for him. Anyone who is ignorant enough to ask a veteran if he killed anyone in the line of duty should be shunned right out of the conversation. I still don't know the answer to that question, and I'll never ask it.

I was blessed that they both came back home. It is enough for me.

Four years ago, my oldest joined the military. He is a Marine. I have never felt so proud as I did on the day I attended his basic training graduation at MCRD, San Diego. I still have the 'Service Flag' hanging proudly in the front window for him. The 'Service Flag', or 'Blue Star Flag', is a symbol of a family's sacrifice when an immediate family member is in active service during a time of war. If that family member should be killed in the line of duty, a gold star would replace the blue star. The practice of hanging a 'Service Flag' dates back to WWI. I am proud to display it, though I will be glad to take it down when we are officially at peace. 

It is 10 years after the tragic events that we commemorate today. Ten years.

Many have forgotten. Or become complacent. They have gone back to their normal lives. There is bickering. There is dissent. There is arguing and back stabbing and doubt even about what this war is really about. Or that it even was a terrorist attack.

Shame on them.

Always remember what we lost that day.

Never forget what your freedom costs.

How has 9/11 changed me? I will forever be a fierce patriot. I am an American who knows it is the duty of every citizen to stand and defend our sovereign soil. I was proud of my military family before, but I am honored by them now. I stand with previous generations who have faced the refiner's fire...

... and I will never forget.

........... the random post

I really don't have anything inspired or uplifting to say tonight.

Had a good day at work today.

Went to spin cycle class tonight.

Mostly avoided sugar.  My yogurt has some sugar in it, but I don't count that in the overall scheme of things.  I had one Girl Scout Thin Mint after lunch today.  That's it.  Gah!  Afternoon cravings are hard.  I made it just by being stubborn.

Wasn't my best self with my kids tonight.  Especially my daughter.  She had a 'bad' day today though she couldn't pinpoint the cause.  Her 'bad' mood rubbed off on me and I wasn't the better person I should have been.  Darn it.

Discovered that my son has been struggling to understand his math alone because he thought I wouldn't be able to help him due to a miscommunication.  I had made the comment that he'd soon be at a math level that I wouldn't be able to help with... meaning that in future years, when he is in calculus and statistics, he will have moved beyond my level of math education.  He mistook me to mean that I wouldn't be able to help him this year in Algebra 2.  He seemed rather relieved to find out that I CAN help with it after all.  Though, I also recommended he stop in at the school's math lab after school tomorrow for help from tutors and teachers.

Found out that my daughter currently has straight As, even in her AP classes.  Her dad promised he'd buy her a car at the end of the year if she pulls straight As for the entire year.

Hmmm.  Here's hoping for that 4.0 and a great auto deal!

Mondays are for ME!

Hey, before I ramble on about today's topic, I just have to say, HIP-HIP-HOORAY!  BILL HAS GONE BACK TO WORK!!!  The doctor signed the medical release allowing him to return to work!

*****

This Fall we lost 500 of our students to a new elementary school the district built nearby, bringing our total population from approximately 1,200 to a number in the 700 range.  Because of this, we lost a lot of teachers (who transferred to the new school or elsewhere in the district), and specialties were reduced from four to three.  Because of the drop in student population, we receive less funding, which in turn, reduces the contract hours the principal has to offer to me.

I was on a 3/4 contract and was very happy with it.

Now, I am on a 6/10 contract.  From .75 to .6.  I calculated that between reduced salary and increased medical insurance premiums, I will be making between $5,000 and $6,000 LESS this year than last year.

That stinks.

However, the reduced contract was achieved by eliminating specialties on Mondays.

I now have Mondays off!

There is the silver lining in this nasty storm cloud on my horizon!

Today was my first Monday off.  I was really looking forward to finally finding out what it would be like to be a 'stay at home' mom!  Of course, when my kids were pre-school aged, I did stay home with them.  Ever since they have been old enough for school, however, I have been at work while they have been at school.  I always envied the ladies who had a quiet house all to themselves.

I have had all summer to think about what I should do on my Mondays.  I came to the conclusion that it should be filled only with things that I want to do!  A day dedicated to me!

That may sound selfish, but, actually...

First thing after seeing the kids out the door, I headed off on my 13 mile bike ride on the trail that loops to the canyon and back.  I was hoping to get a really good time on it.  I knew I would have to deal with the 3 main obstacles on the course... a stretch of unfinished trail in the middle, a large road construction zone to cross, and the monster hill.  Unfortunately, I also had to contend with A LOT of joggers!  Apparently all the pedestrian exercisers come out in the morning.  I simply couldn't blast past them going full speed.  Trail etiquette required that I slow down and warn people when passing.  In the end it took me over an hour.  Phooey.  I'm looking forward to cooler fall weather when I can trail ride mid-day.


When I got home, I decided that I wanted to tackle some weeds while it was still cool and shady out.

Before...

After!

I will admit, I think the mailbox looked better with all those weeds below it.  Sort of rural chic.  Not to worry, though.  They will be back before you know it!  Also, that power pole smells strongly like the piers in downtown Seattle.  It is such a flashback for me every time I pull weeds next to it!

After showering, I decided that I wanted to get some home improvement done, too.  So I put on my old painting pants.  You know the ones!  The 'I don't want to ruin any other clothes, so I'll just hang onto these and use them every time I have a painting project!

Of course, mine are now two sizes too big.  Ah well.  I can paint and hitch my pants up at the same time.  I am talented that way.

My original plan was to clean off and paint the laundry room window sill.  

That turned out to be a bust when I discovered that the sill hadn't been caulked, yet, and I couldn't find the caulking gun.  After searching for over an hour, I called Bill.  He didn't know where it was, but promised to bring one home from work.  So sweet of him, but that meant that the window became a project for next week.  I needed something to do, now!

I decided it would be a good time to do some touch up painting to cover marks on the walls.  The walls in the basement have been collecting scuff marks for about 3 years now.  It was time to do something about it.  And there were spots that we simply never got around to finishing.  So...

...here are the before and after shots!

Laundry room towel rack.  The marks came when I accidentally dropped the clock while trying to hang it.  Oops.  I did touch ups of the walls near the kids' bedrooms, too, but I didn't take a picture of that.

Laundry room ironing board cupboard trim.  I painted before the ironing board was installed and missed a spot.

When the folded laundry cupboard was initially installed, they put it in the wrong spot and I made them move it.  That left some holes in the wall that the workers spackled over, but that I needed to repaint.

The most glaringly unattractive spots in the basement!  Originally, we planned to keep going with the renovations to the main floor as soon as the basement was completed, so I didn't finish painting the transition.  However, the downturn in the economy forced us to postpone indefinitely the rest of the house renovations.  But the transition remained unpainted.  Not anymore!  I still need to paint the trim work on the stairs, but that can wait until next week when I do the laundry room window.

By the time I was done with the first layer of paint on that last project, the kids were walking in the door from school and I was starving!  So, I had lunch before finishing the second coat of paint.

The 'ME' part of my day was over.  I drove Will to get the gear he would need for lacrosse, which will be starting up this week.  Then I picked Bill up from work (he gets his work truck back tomorrow) before coming home and baking cookies for tomorrow's lacrosse party/parent meeting.

I was even able to watch one episode of Star Trek: Next Generation before heading to the pool with the family for an evening swim.  I know, I am a Trek geek.  At the pool, Helena was frustrated with the rest of us because we all wanted to swim laps.  I can't be in a pool and not swim laps!  Really, what else is a pool for other than SWIMMING?!  But still, I think everyone had fun.  The hot tub sapped my energy and now I am forcing myself to finish this post so I can go to bed and return to my normal life of working while the kids are at school.

It is funny, because I got a lot done today, but I didn't consider it 'work'.  It was just the stuff I wanted to do!  Truthfully, though, I don't think of my job as 'work', either, because it is also stuff I want to do!

I like my life!