Letting Go

I'm feeling sentimental. Maybe it's looking at stacks of unorganized photos that brings back thousands of random memories. Tonight I'm thinking about:

*ear infections--forcing the bubble gum medicine between clenched teeth; waiting in the hospital while tubes were put in ten-month old ears
*band aids and stitches
*night terrors, when everything was "big"
*snuggling in bed and reading an entire book of children's poetry together--just the two of us
*learning to drive
*break dancing and moon walking
*falling asleep in the van and waking up alone, parked in a church parking lot
*sitting on the stairs, having late night conversations about nothing and everything
*Scout camp outs and youth conferences
*band concerts, choir concerts, dance concerts
*Blue and Gold Banquets and choir dinners
*a pet bunny
*heart-stopping back flips on cement!
*opening a mission call, ACT scores, college acceptance & scholarship letters, and valentines
*dancing the West Coast Swing in the kitchen, picking me up and swinging me around
*MTC hugs and airport hugs
*passing the sacrament, and later, blessing it
*singing in the shower
*homemade Mother's Day cards, Christmas ornaments and handprints
*haircuts
*math counts competitions and dancesport competitions
*waiting for emails every Monday
*birthday parties, Halloween costumes and Christmas wish lists
*a fifth grade answer to "What will you be doing in five years?"--"Investing!"
*buying a first suit
*"Blue Moon," "Baby, It's Cold Outside," and "Butterfly Kisses"
*D'Males
*figuring out Pacabelle's Canon on the piano and leading the ward choir in an original arrangement of "The Spirit of God"
*Guarani
*signing "You drive me crazy" to the bishopric during Sacrament Meeting; laying under the bench and tearing up pages from a paperback copy of the Book of Mormon
*helping me plot a book
*playing "Fox and Geese," "Sardines" and "Murder in the Dark"
*attending the temple together
*cha cha'ing with Amy at Goblin Valley; chanting "I want to go home" in a tent with Julie during a Yellowstone rainstorm
*tuxes, corsages and limousine's
*telling jokes, jumping on the trampoline and eating boxes of cereal
*sunburns from Scofield winter camping
*soccer games
*nertz, Risk, and Diplomacy
*wanting more cookies at Colorado National Monument, and taking off when he didn't get them
*playing the guitar, the piano, the saxophone, the recorder, the clarinet
*kisses on my cheek

I love you, Danny.

Fruit Flies

The subject of this post is how to get rid of fruit flies. We're talking millions here, not just a few nasty little critters that fly around the bananas and can be swiped into the kitchen sink with a motion or two. We're talking millions of reproducing fruit flies.

We're talking four mason jars full of fruit flies. They're sitting on an antique piece of furniture in my bedroom, right in front of my porcelain statues, arranged in order of age. The ones that are in the pupae stage next to the writhing mass of little maggots. Without my glasses, they almost look like pieces of rice. Almost. Until you see them move.

Their only redeeming quality is that they can't fly, so theoretically, they should be easier to catch.

I wonder what the microwave would do to them.

So Wrong!

I just attended my first ever real pageant. (Unless, of course, you count Mr. Springville, which I've attended several times, but don't count.) We went because one of Julie's best friends was competing.

So I just have to revisit an old issue: Come on, Folks! Swimsuits?! And yes, they were accessorized with the standard high heels.

The introduction to the swimsuit competition did provide the best line of the night however. They announced that it was to show physical, emotional, and intellectual fitness!

So what are we judging here? Who has the smartest looking legs???? Or which of the girls is most comfortable (therefore most emotionally fit) parading in near nakedness in front of 800 cheering fans????

So wrong!

Soapboxes

A couple of days ago Julie and I were talking about work. (For anyone who doesn't know, she works at the school with me.) And she commented that she's definitely developed some soapboxes in the short time she's worked there. I was delighted! Perhaps I am not the strange creature I imagine myself to be when I read all of your blogs and instead of thinking, "How fun!" I think, "What an enriching environment they are providing! Bet he/she won't have any trouble with scientific notation."

So now that I know that soapboxing is a normal job hazard, can I just give you all kudos for doing a great job of providing enriching environments, adequate grooming, nutritious meals, and lots of love for all your little ones! It makes my heart sing when I read about your routines, your adventures, and most of all--your love!

Here's to all our children being "above average!" (Apologies to Garrison Keller!)

Memoirs of Physical Education

So a little while ago I read a post on Anna's blog which inspired me to write this. To confess and to share for any of you who do not know my history with physical education. P.E. Even the name creates stress.

In the little town where I grew up there was one PE teacher and she was a large woman who didn't seem to like petite girls who preferred dancing to arm wrestling. PE was required for 2 1/2 years; I lasted 1 1/2. My parents decided the class was doing me more mental harm than physical good and found a good doctor who agreed.

My memories of her teaching style include:
*She gave permission to the popular girls to throw the least popular girl into the shower, because they thought she needed one. She also told them that they could cut classes and she'd cover for them, IF they came to her. Otherwise, if they were caught, she'd make sure they paid big.
*Jump rope skills were taught by demonstrating the skill, and then having all the girls practice until they had it. Once they had it, they sat on the floor. Just picture sixty girls sitting in a circle waiting for the last girl to figure out the grape vine with a jump rope. Need I say that Suzy Cheerleader wasn't the last one to figure out that maneuver?
*One day she announced that someone was chewing gum and told them to come up and deposit it in the wastebasket. Someone did. Then she said someone else was chewing gum. And the cycle repeated, and repeated, and repeated, until no one came up. Then she excused everyone in the class save one . . . Gloria, a quiet girl who never got in trouble. A while later Gloria was presented to the class where she gave a tearful apology for chewing gum.

Well, so you know, I was a mere bystander in all those incidents. For me, the painful memories came at the hands of my classmates. The teacher simply created an environment of fear and nonacceptance. Being chosen last. Being volunteered when someone was absent from the other team. Being yelled at for missing the ball. Being laughed at when I didn't miss it. "Did you see how happy she looked?!" I learned that PE (and therefore sports) was anything but fun.

Fast forward several decades. It's a mother-daughter volleyball game at the junior high and I'm being a good sport and a good mother. And I'm standing in front of the net, fighting the tears and the memories and self-talking my way through the experience. "It's okay that I can't hit a ball. I can make fudge. I can make prom dresses. I have given birth to seven children. Hitting a ball doesn't matter." It was a significant moment--a moment of coming to terms with myself.

My children have taught me--along with many other things--that sports with them can be fun. I remember the first time I kicked a ball. Literally, I think. I was at the park with my children. I told Danny, who was younger than Andrew then, that I didn't know how to play the games and he looked ever so sad and told me he would teach me. And so they have.

Now I love to play One Bounce and volleyball and soccer with the family. I love that my boys are so good to me that they hit the ball so that I can get it and apologize when they don't. Sports really can be fun! (But still not as fun as dancing!)

Dinner Discussions

It all began with a new 3rd grade student I'm working with. After Day One, I noticed that she had a really limited vocabulary. Words like "whirl" and "twirl" aren't in it. Day Three, I realized that "buns" isn't in it either. (She read the word as "bones" and when I asked her if that made sense, she looked at me as if it made as much sense as anything else she was attempting to read--which may be true, since I'm not sure that she understands a lot of what she reads!) You don't know what buns are? Nope. Hot dog buns? Hamburger buns? Nope. You know--the bread you put the meat between? Has this child never eaten at McDonalds?! Nope.

So I was telling the literacy specialist about her limited vocabulary--he called it lacking an academic vocabulary--(academic? BUNS!) and said, "Who uses words like "twirl" and "whirl" in their homes?" "Ummmmmm--we do," I think, but don't say. And then he says he'd bet she's struggling in science and social studies too, because (fill in the blank) who talks about science and social studies in their homes?! Uh--shall I answer this?

Recent dinner conversations have centered on poison dart frogs and breeding fruit flies to feed them. (Thanks Eric). And no, I'm not kidding.

And that's just the beginning. Sorry kids. You have a dad who's a walking encyclopedia and a mom who starts a conversation by saying things like, "If you were stranded in a hotel room and all your family was missing and you couldn't speak the language and you'd been told not to leave the room or really bad things would happen to you . . . what would you do?"

I guess normal families don't do that.

What I Would Have Blogged About

I'M BACK! You have no idea how excited I am to finally have internet restored to our house! It took three trips to the house to get the job done, but it finally happened, and now I'm happily catching up on all that I've missed. (And P.S. our home phone is working again too!)

As for you, here are some of the blog titles you might have read:

1) A survey: what's the last thing you'd expect to see my husband doing on New Year's Eve?
a) dancing b) cooking c) karaoking in front of the ward d) getting a root canal

2) Driving six miles across the Hoover Dam in two hours, while watching the gas gage drop from nearly empty to completely empty

3) Kids say the darndest things (subtitled, I have no response to that):

"I am thankful for not killing people" (written by a 2nd grader in response to a Thanksgiving assignment asking for a list of things you're thankful for)

Me, introducing a new book: "Do you like camping?"
4th grader: "I like camping, but I'm kind of scared of camping since my cousin got eaten by a bear when he was camping."

(And one that warmed my heart and reminded me that there really are terrific parents in the world!) In response to being asked to tell me what he'd done wrong: "When I get home I'm going to repent, because I'm eight now."

4) Guess who's getting married! And guess who's having babies! The family just keeps growing and growing!

So happy to be back on line!