Best Weekend Ever!

First there was the dinner-dance Friday night, and aside from a few minor blips, it was a huge success! High moments included watching Amy & Ryan tap dance, Eric & Briana cha cha, Kyle Dugovic break dance and Fawn Killpack fast dance! Dancing my favorite dance, the West Coast Swing, with Eric also has to be at the top of the list, as well as dancing with my forever sweetheart.

It was great to see it all come together (i.e. everybody else do their jobs!) with the decorations, cooking the food, bringing desserts by the trillions, and just showing up dressed to kill! People even stayed after the closing prayer and kept dancing until the guy came for his equipment! And--we had several "singles" come, which pleased me greatly. It definitely was "an evening to remember" and people in the ward are asking about another one. (I think we'll call it "Another evening to remember.") I've had a couple of nights sleep, so I'm up for it :)

Saturday was a great day to lay around and not do much. Knowing that Monday was coming (and another day off) I didn't even have to feel guilty about the lack of doing. Dad and I spent some time listening to music (including "our song" which Dad had found, but didn't play Friday night) and flying "A" dog.

Saturday night was Mr. Springville: another fun night

watching Julie announce and "her man" perform. They both did wonderfully.

And Sunday is always good, but especially so because 1) we went to Ben's homecoming, 2) we went to 1st ward to hear Dad's amazing talk, 3) I didn't teach primary--i.e. no small children tried to stick my fingers in their mouths! and 4) I am anticipating an evening with my children, eating yummy food and playing games--without even having to clean up or fix much of the food! Thanks Briana!

And tomorrow is another day full of great possibilities--including, and not to be underestimated--being able to sleep in and reading Danny's email!

Life just doesn't get better than this!

Soapbox speech for all those who are raising the next generation

This year at work I have been given a unique perspective which has made me pretty passionate about teaching kids the basics. Let me explain. My job title is Title One Technician (and playground supervisor, but that's food for another diatribe on another day!). What I do is tutor kids. Reteach stuff they didn't get the first time. Mostly I teach math, and I work with students in almost every grade, 1st through 5th. I've also been part of the team which tested every student in the school in reading.

So here are my observations:

The first few years are so important. Kids learn to read in first and second grade. If they don't get it then, it's unlikely that they'll ever catch up. An interesting statistic we were given was that prisons are planned and built based on the illiteracy rate of second graders! When we tested every student in the school, I learned that there isn't that much difference between a very fluent second grader and a sixth grader. It's like--they either have it, or they don't.

As for math, it's absolutely critical that they master the basic skills. The last few weeks, I've been teaching 5th graders graphing and order of operations. But you know the challenge? Why they are at the bottom of their classes? Because they can't add 8 + 2 without using their fingers. When they see 3 x 3, they draw circles and put dots in them to figure it out. Fifth graders are learning long division and manipulating decimals and fractions. How can these students possibly move forward? And the point is, they don't. They've mastered the ability to avoid doing the work--yet their lives would be so much easier if they would just buckle down and memorize!

But it doesn't start in 5th grade. The last couple of months I've been working with 3rd graders on learning their multiplication facts. Sometimes their teachers show them "tricks" to help them learn. But I fear that sometimes those tricks can become crutches which will later paralyze them. The simple fact is, they just have to do the work of memorizing. It's been interesting to walk directly from working with the 5th graders to the 3rd graders--seeing what will happen two years down the road if they don't get it now.

But it doesn't start there either. I also work with first graders who can't count past ten, and with second graders who can't add 3 +1 without drawing lines on their paper and then counting them.

So from this perspective, I offer a few humble suggestions to the keepers of the next generation. And these are things that every parent can do.

I probably don't need to remind any of you to read and read and read and read to them. Help them to see that there are wonderful worlds to be found within the pages of a book! Of course, you're teaching them the alphabet and the sounds letters make. And when they start to read, keep reading with them.

Some of the early math skills may not be so obvious. Here are some suggestions. Of course, you're teaching them to count. When they've mastered counting their blocks, try counting the blocks by twos. Let your kids play with money. Help them count it. Show them that four quarters equals a dollar. More than any other early math skill, it is so obvious which kids have handled money and which ones haven't--and those who haven't, really struggle to learn how to count money. Counting dimes and nickles and pennies (two at a time) will also help them learn to count by tens and fives and twos. Talk about time with them. Have a regular clock someplace and ask them which number the big hand is pointing to. Introduce them to adding and subtracting and, as they become older, help them become automatic with number combinations. These simple things can make a huge difference!

Okay, now I'll climb off my soapbox. Thanks for listening.

A Day in the Snow!

Blogging at 1:a.m.

I've finally figured out why we had so many bedtime battles. Nobody ever wanted to go to bed. Of course, nobody ever wanted to get up either, but that's beside the point. Anyway, it just hit me why no one wanted to go to bed. It's a simple case of genes. And you all got mine. Why, I ask myself. It just doesn't make sense. Why am I sitting here, blogging at 1:a.m. when I could be snuggled up in my bed?

I think the answer lies somewhere between the challenge of walking up the stairs and taking off my make-up.

Ah well, I'll stop stalling and make the trek.

Love you all, and good night.

Confessions on a driver's license

Briana asked a valid question. Why? I started to answer her, but realized that she deserves a more complete answer. I actually signed up for Driver's Ed at the normal time: in high school. It conflicted with something else, so I signed up for the after-school class--which was cancelled. My dad even tried to hire the teacher to tutor me! He also tried to teach me and that didn't go well, shall we say.

Fast forward a couple of years and my parents were getting really worried about the situation. So they bought me a car. Think of it as an incentive. It was blue and very cute. They thought it would motivate me, instead it embarrassed me. I know I'm weird, but I grew up as the "rich kid" in a little town, where my family lived in the biggest house and drove the nicest car. I always struggled to make friends, and thought it was because kids thought I was stuck up. I wasn't, but I was shy, which can be misunderstood. So the last thing I wanted to do was to drive around town in a brand new little car. I figured it would totally seal the deal on how I thought I was too good for anybody. Looking back, I'm sure I had it all wrong--but that was my mind-set at the time. So the car went into storage and I went back to BYU.

Fast forward to shortly after I got engaged. One night I decided it was time to make my confession to my sweetheart. Would he still love me? I wasn't sure. I told him I had something to tell him. He reassured me that anything I might tell him would be okay. You can imagine the kinds of things he was wondering. We walked around the block three times before I got up the courage to tell him. "I have a new car." Well, the rest is history. He still loved me in spite of it, and still married me--and even, quite happily, drove the car!

And then he tried to teach me to drive it. But that didn't go so well either. Perhaps my children who learned to drive with their dad will understand that. Finally, four children later, I took a course at BYU with an instructor who was patient, but didn't love me, and I finally passed the test. But not until that little blue car had been outgrown and replaced--by a car without a stick shift.

One Minute That Made My Day!

It was just after nine this morning when the phone rang. I was waiting for a call from Julie, so I was surprised when the caller ID said "unknown name." Still, I picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mom."

My mind raced through the options, but nothing fit.

"Do you know who this is?"

And then I knew. And the tears came.

"Don't cry Mom. This is a really expensive call, so I've got to make it short, but I need to know what time it is there. I love you."

I love you too. Oh, how I love you!

Christmas is coming!

Six facts about me

1. I was born without a hip socket.

2. My best friend, Renae, and I called each other Mougar (together with it's variations: Mougs, and Mougy). I have no idea why.

3. I have not always been the honest person you now know: I once wrote a letter to myself from an imaginary boyfriend (which was picked up and read during English class), and I once snooped in a boy's locker after school and read his journal. Unfortunately, they were both humiliating experiences.

4. I had four children before I had a driver's license.

5. I never graduated from college, although I did spend three years at BYU accumulating two years worth of credit, a bunch of UW's, and lots of memories. I started out as a theatre major, then switched to English, and at some point considered anthropology. Someday I hope to go back and do it right.

6. I once had ten dates with six guys in one week. It was my way of celebrating "my missionary's" hump day--which was the first day of that week.