Recognize this guy?

Jared's roommate filmed this as part of his application to film school. Pretty cool, eh?

Eye wonder. . .

. . . how it would be to live your life as this fish:

photo credit

. . . because I kind of identified with him after this:

. . . and I also felt a strange kinship with him:

photo credit

. . . now, a couple of days later, I just feel like people think I went crazy on the exotic purple eyeshadow, and forgot to do the other eye.

Lesson learned: be on your guard if an 11-year-old tries to tackle you in the snow. :)

Miss that kid!

Awhile ago I looked through Ben's pictures on Facebook. Of course, it made me miss him. . .

Here are my favorites. I think they capture the essence of Reg:

A quote from his last letter to me that made me laugh:

"yeah life goes on here in mannheim. im back in a german ward speaking german again. it really does help to have a comp that works hard. . . but man i am so tired, all the time. every morning when the alarm goes off i want to just sleep but i know i cant ha ha. mornings are the worst. i dont remember if i told you this already, but a sister in my mtc district named her alarm clock 'lucifer, son of the morning' ha ha. i think that description is quite fitting."

Brilliant. Why didn't someone think of that before!?

Hopefully he'll send some mission pictures sometime soon that I can post!

I {am, was} Drowning

About Wednesday I was consumed with this thought:

I'm drowning.

I'm keeping my head above water, and that's about it. Not because it's awful. But because I never reach that point where I sigh and say "Ah. That's done. Well done. Check. Next project." It's a constant race on all fronts. I suppose it's like being a mom. The class is clean; three hours later it's messy. The grades were done; there's a brand new stack of stuff to grade. Email parents/coworkers/administration about this; set up for that; document this; get this lesson ready. You could do it a bazillion times better if you had more time (but somehow when you do have extra time you want to spend it doing non-teacherish things).

So, what gives?

Luckily between the "I'm drowning" moments, there are (usually many more) moments that remind me that it's worth it and that I can/want to keep going. Luckily, yesterday was one of those days that brought with it a renewed perspective. Our class had a "Happy Birthday America" celebration (we've been learning about America gaining its independence) completely headed up by some amazing parents. They led the festivities and I was free to be the helper instead of the organizer. Pin the star on the flag, America bingo, a finger paint flag, and Uncle Sam hats. I was able to step back a bit and enjoy my kids and talk to the parents instead of stressing about being the coordinator. It was fun. It kind of restored my senses. I do love teaching kindergarten (and not just on celebration days when parents are in charge, haha :).

For the rest of the day (the PM class), I was a little more positive, a little more energetic. Of course the kids can sense this: they were more positive, more cooperative. I remembered why I love teaching.

I feel like even though in most senses I'm still drowning in stuff that needs to be done yet won't ever technically be finished (Bah. It's Saturday and I still have to go finish some stuff at the school) I can keep treading water.

Some of the reasons its worth it:

• Seeing my kids make progress: the kids who in August didn't know "a" from "o" but now can read short stories, who couldn't write their names but now can write much more than that. And from that, the feeling that my job is purposeful. (As opposed to, say, my college custodial job of cleaning things that weren't that dirty in the first place . Did it really matter if I showed up?Just kidding.)
• Getting paid for singing songs with 5- & 6-year-olds about Abraham Lincoln, counting by twos, the seven continents; reciting poetry; dancing
• Having more than two days off for Christmas break (I promise, this was not a decisive factor in my becoming a teacher, but I love it)
• Sharing books at story time and seeing the children completely silent and enraptured
• Moments when children say/do something so hilarious that it's all you can do not to giggle
• Moments when the momentum is completely there: everyone is on board going full steam and trying their hardest
• Excitement in the kids' eyes the first day of school and hearing them, or their parents, say how much they love it
• Hugs, notes, kind words from the kids
• Support, kind words, assistance, and faith and trust from parents who love their children and support me as their child's teacher
  
  

Those are some of the things that make it great. I guess, in a sense, there is a moment when I can say "Done. Check. Next.": summertime. But I am not wishing that upon myself yet. That would mean it's time to pass of this batch of kids to first grade, and it is not time for that, yet. :)

How to Give a Little Holiday Cheer. . .

. . . to the least-festive room in the house.

. . . viola. Christmas cheer.

ha ha.

:)

Delicious Dip

This lovely dip/dressing has renewed my desire to eat my daily dose of veggies. Delicious.

Los Homeboys Mios

The typical get-to-know you questions can be pretty predictable (which is not a bad thing), and it’s funny how people's responses to your answers are often (and understandably) predictable too.

Common question #1:

So, what do you do?

(I teach – kindergarten.)

Awwwww! Do you love it?

(Yes, I do! )

or. . . something along the lines of:

Wow. . . a class full of little kids – I could never do that.

Almost every time.

Oh - and: Do you guys have nap time?

(I wish!)

For my friend Maryann, when she tells someone that she teaches math at a junior high, she feels like she suddenly becomes that person’s therapist as he/she describes horrible, repressed memories of hating math and junior high.

She gets it all the time.

(I guess I can’t complain about people’s response to kindergarten.)

Common Question #2: So, how big is your family?

When I explain that I’m the oldest of six - five younger brothers, it’s like always like this:

Wow. Five brothers. You’re the only girl? (Yep.) Wow. How’s that? (I love it. When I was little I used to really wish I had a sister, but it’s all good now. Love ‘em.)

This is true - including the part about wishing for a sister. When Mom was expecting Sam, I asked to not be told if it was a boy or girl, because I wanted to hold out hope for a sister until the bitter end. I even wore a pink shirt to the hospital. Of course, I was deluding myself: it’s not hard for info. like that to leak out, and I knew. (PS: I’m most definitely glad we got Sam instead of a girl.)

And so – I grew up amidst a bunch of boys. In a way, I missed a lot of “girl stuff” as a result of being the lone sister: the toenail-painting, stay-up-late-talking-about-boys, the going-shopping-all-day-with-your-sisters stuff. Eventually, I had roommates who filled in as sisters. They shared with me those kinds of experiences, and helped me learn how to wear matching clothes and other skills that are not natural outgrowths of associating with brothers (just kidding).

But seriously, I don’t feel that I missed out on too much by having only brothers. Really and truly, wouldn’t trade my bros for anything. Not even sisters. :)

I was looking through some photos; I think that’s why I’m waxing all sentimental-ish. They make me laugh.

Here are the sentimental-ish pics.

Five brothers? (Yep!) How’s that?

Sometimes it’s kinda like this:

Me: I have a great idea! Let’s all lay down on the floor and take a picture of our heads.
Boys’ collective thoughts: our sister is crazy.
Boys’ vocal response: what!? Okay. Whatever.

No words necessary.

Are you laughing at me or laughing with me?

Don't make me get my angry eyes!!

Focus people. Let's look at the camera.

Sweaty with a spectacular view.

Idaho + Ross Park + 6 people and 6 swings = best picture ever.