An Alphabet of Good Advice

A is for Apples, anxiety, and additions----things I have too much of and don't enjoy at the moment.
B is for BooBs---check them often because breast cancer is scary. It could also be for Boobus--odd growths, a term which my friend coined, and I suppose in this case it could go either way.
C is for Cats--they are only good for anatomy dissections. Sorry.
D is for delirious---the way I feel about sixth hour with boys hanging all over my desk. Do they make a spray for that?
E is for exhausted--the way I feel AFTER sixth hour.
F is for flibbertigibbet--a word I learned in high-school and love to use even today.
G is for God--the reason I get through every day with gratefulness and graciousness.
H is for hugs because I love genuine hugs---the kind that feel a real squeeze of care in.
I is for inspiration--the reason I teach. I want to inspire the beaten and abused to rise up and succeed.
J is for Jason--my sexy husband whom I love more than anything.
K is for krafty--intentionally spelled wrong to emphasize that I possess nothing of it. I dream it--I see it it my mind---and then I attempt it and something horribly wrong happens. That is when I say, "That? Oh, the kids made that."
L is for literature. Enough said.
M is for Milana and Mei Lin--the reason I love being a mom. Also the reason I invest in copious amounts of parenting books and ibuprofen and "kraft" supplies.
N is for needle and is specifically directed at the male "doctor's assistant" at my doctor's office who is forever missing the vein and sticking me two or three times. Dude, make a note on my chart--minisucle veins, must use tiny needle. Resist urge to poke at needle while in arm!
O is for overhaul---something I need to take care of the sagging B word in my list.
P is for painting--an activity I despise and will be engaging in later this afternoon. However, it can also stand for "Plum" not only for its lovely color but because it is fun to say as most "P" words are--persimmon, persnickety, plump, precious.
Q is for quick---the mode I am in in the morning, but the mode I resist throughout the rest of my day. It could also be for quacky--they reason my students like me.
R is for rope---what I'm going to use to tie up my children in about five minutes for their constant arguing this morning.
S is for summer when I can spend lots of time with my girls and can enjoy the warmth of the sun without walking around in 3 layers of clothing and carrying around a red fleece blanket everywhere I go.
T is for time, which I never have enough of and Tenderness, something I am possess too much of. I cry at cartoons, people, cartoons.
U is for uvula because it is weird and gross and maybe for underwear, which can also be a bit weird an gross. Hopefully those aren't ever really together.
V is for vivacious, vixen---what I envision myself as at the gym when I'm really jiggling and jaggling all over the equipment in my "hate getting older" sweat-gear.
W is for wrinkles and winking which eventually as we age all go together. We just look like we are constantly winking, when in reality our eyes are wide, wide open.
X is for x-mas which makes me burn with anger for taking Christ out of Christmas. Don't write it even in you are in a hurry. Glorify the reason for the season.
Y is for younger siblings--I love them so much and they have NO idea how often I think of and pray for them.
Z is for zero because I can't think of anything else to say.

Bouquets of Freshly Sharpened Pencils

I am a sick woman. I love the smell of school. No, not the stuffy middle-school classroom smell--the general smell of school. The smell of newly waxed floors, newly cleaned desks, crayola wax, new shoes, and old grungy books. With the beginning of school brings with it the yearning for fall, the readiness for the smells of pumpkin pie, apple cider, and brisk breezes. I've already splurged on cinnamon stick candles--they are flickering on the table even as I type this.

While spring brings renewal for the earth, fall (or school time in the least) brings renewal for me. It is the beginning of a new school year--a new chance to make a difference, to better myself, and to grow closer to my children. My anniversary is the end of August, so I see this time also as a new year to commit to my marriage. Make no mistake; I am stressed with having things truly ready for the first week of school. First impressions are so important. However, I am eager to see new faces, hear new laughter, and make new learning for myself as well as my students. I am eager to watch my children develop new friendships and continue to find their gifts. I am eager to celebrate fall with my girls in their new rooms. I am eager to feel the chill of the fall air (with my handy fleece blanket nearby, of course). Fall is nostalgic for me. When I bound the steps in the building on Drury campus, where I teach occasionally, I feel this nostalgia to the core, especially in the fall. I glide my hand on the wood banister and look out at the colorful landscape and I feel a sense of belonging--a weird connection to every lover of learning that has walked those same steps and caressed the same banister on her way to and from class. When I walk the halls of my school and stand in the midst of my room, empty and waiting, I feel it too. It is anticipation and peace and longing for the best of this new year offered up in the first fragrances of fall--in freshly sharpened bouquets of pencils.

Don't YOU just love life in the fall?

Splish-Splashing Away.....

I am green with envy. I am utterly jealous. It is 95 in the shade. I sit on my deck under the umbrella at my peeling, Wal-mart table. Sweat trickles down my spine and the sides of my face. Beads of water cling to my ice-tea. It is h-o-t.

The neighbors to my left are outside too. They, however, are frolicking in their pool. The splashes from their cannonballs echo in my ears. I bet they are not trickling with sweat, I am thinking. They are laughing. At me sweating outside under my umbrella, pool-less and hot.

The neighbors behind us are out too. And the neighbors beside them, also to our back. They too are splashing in their pools. Their children are yelling with glee. There is no whining coming from their lips. I'm Hooottttt, (said in the whiniest tone possible--all nasally and dripping with sad) is not escaping their mouths. Can we go to the pool? is not a question they are asking because they HAVE a pool. They are hopping in the water. They are taunting me, as I sweat through my shirt under my umbrella, in my peeling chair, pool-less. And hot.

I just want a pool. I do not want to pay to use someone else's pool with 100 other people. I do not want to get in my 110 degree car and drive to the pool, to share with others, wasting gas and ozone as I speed in the heat with my air-conditioner turned to Gasp, It is Hot. I want to step outside my back door and drop, quite expectantly, in crisp refreshing water in a pool that is all mine. I want to jump and frolick, sweatless, at my neighbor's expense in the heat of the summer sun as they sit under their umbrellas, pool-less and frustrated, green with envy at my splish-splashing. I-want-a-pool.

Beets, Kale, and Arugula--Oh My!

Today I'm NOT talkin' Turkey...I'm talkin' veggies.

That is right. Those yummy-good for you greens that your kids wrinkle their noses at (or in the case of a dear friend--husbands wrinkle noses at!). Those foods that we sneak into sweets (why are the brownies green?). I look forward to this time of year because we belong to a community farm. I've learned to cook things my grandmother used to cook (beets, turnips). We are slowly learning about the perversion of the food industry in our country--how prepacked is easier, but NOT better. I love our weekly trips to the farm. Chard is the "new spinach"--at least at my house. I love arugula. I have learned new ways to cook radishes and squash. Yesterday I sat at the pool and ate zucchini sticks. (Maybe I should have passed some around.)

I think we often take for granted that the "fresh veggies" at our markets are "fresh"--veggies and fruits should NOT be waxed or covered with pesticides. :( Did you know that strawberries are one of the worst because they internalize those pesticides? Yuck. A good reason, alone, to make a trip to the farmer's market on Saturday or Tuesday.

What I like about being a part of the farm is that 1) we are required to work at the farm, so the girls get a chance to see how the food is grown and help prepare it for others. 2) we get to cook fresh fruits and veggies every week which expands my recipe box and keeps us at home instead of OUT spending money 3) we get to eat food we normally would not eat and we love it! (well most of it!) Eating the ENTIRE beet was not well received and kale is still low on my list of favorites.

We also get fresh eggs, fresh bread, and fresh fruit every week. The taste of the fruit, bread, and veggies is twice as good as store-bought. I am reminded of my grandmother picking food from her garden and preparing dinner. It seems she was always in the kitchen. Perhaps now I'll take up canning and reinvent my grandmother's kitchen. There will NOT be, however, never in this new kitchen of the past--breaded tomatoes. EEWWW. That is just too much. I will, however, continue to sneak in those beets, kale, and arugula (oh my!) into my children's favorite foods--puree it and they'll never know! :) In fact, I highly recommend Jessica Seinfeld's book Deceptively Delicious. My girls love everything in the book and everything in the book has veggies in it! Chocolate Cake made with beets. Brownies made with spinach! Gingerbread Spice Cake with Broccoli and Carrot. Tuna Salad with Cauliflower. Chicken Nugets with Spinach or Sweet Potato.

Happy Farm-Fresh Eating!

Skin is Only Good on BBQ Chicken

I know, I know---bare skin on hot bodies turns heads. But after today's trip to the pool, I have to say that skin is really only good on BBQ chicken.

Today I saw 13-14 year olds skimping around in string bikini's. There were more strings than fabric. What parent lets their impressionable, awkwardly emotional teen prance about the pool like a piece of meat? What is wrong with teaching girls to dress modestly and to take pride in their bodies without overly flaunting skin like a New York hot dog cart?

Today I saw parents (probably parents of said teens) prancing about in bikini's and two pieces with jiggly body-parts hanging out and over various stretched material. PLEASE do everyone a favor---if it jiggles--cover it up! (Which is why I wear full scuba gear at all pool functions.) Today--one young mom could barely keep her bottoms up and her plumber-crack was showing all over the pool. I'm afraid to say I had a hard time hiding the look on my face as she paraded about with flabby hips pushing down her hi-I'm-made-for-a-person-5-sizes-smaller bikini. EEWWW. I think my eyes crusted over.

And men....if you can feasibly wear a "man bra" or "man girdle", by all means buy a snazzy dark colored t-shirt to wear with your swimming trunks. Really. Even if it's tan. Please.

Well--that is my soap-box lecture for the day. I'm starving after a long day at the pool and guess what? I'm grillin' chicken.....

I Know why Tortoises Live so Long....

I am a fan of the zoo. I love the zoo. The girls and I each have a favorite animal that we seek out each visit---Mei Lin and me--elephants, Milana--Lions. We like to watch the monkeys which are always doing something entertaining. We like to watch the Hippo play with its black ball. We like to feed the giraffes and whistle at the parrots.

There is one area I dread going to, however. The tortoise area. Two years ago a friend and I took the kids to the zoo. The kids were EXTRA attentive that day and as soon we exited the alligator house, we heard a loud grunting sound echoing through out zoo--the source came from straight ahead---the tortoise pen. Those turtles are wrestling! That is funny! (and LOUD!) The noise, Milana has repeated at several dinner functions as she vividly remembers those silly wrestling turtles. She laughs innocently to a bunch of red-faced adults. And this was just one incident.

I've been to the zoo many times since then....and the turtles are always getting busy--always. Most of the time I'm nowhere near the turtle pen, but the grunting echoes throughout the entire park. I called Jason this last visit to hysterically explaining that the turtles have a very active sex life--one I didn't really want to be privy to. His reply--it is a good example. Just look how old they are!

Touche! At least we know why they live so long! Wonder why they don't smile more often?

Change is good.....

One of my favorite lines is from You've Got Mail. It comes at the moment that Kathleen is closing her store and she is contemplating what will happen not only to the store that has housed her memories and dreams since childhood, but what will happen to her life.

People are always telling you that change is a good thing. But all they're really saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all, has happened.

That is exactly where I am now. Something I didn't want to happen, happened, and now I am dealing with change. I will not go into detail here about what happened or didn't happen, but my plans to stay at New Covenant Academy were thwarted, none-the-less, by several issues. My quest for change began long before this moment because of these issues and God provided; He was faithful to my requests. Not only that--he supplied me with clear signs I was following the right path and peace that I knew could only come from Him.

I look forward to a new year of firsts. I am preparing to teach at Willard High School. I am preparing to make new friends, meet new students, and, for the first time in three years, have time for my family without having an albatross of responsibility slung around my neck. I have been lucky to work for an amazing principal that offered many "thank yous" and support. I have been blessed to gain lifetime friends (Ashley, Sarah, Rachel, Tina, Jo and Lynn). I have been amazed by students that I can now call "friend"--and challenged by students that still baffle me today. It has been a good three years, but a stressful three years. So stressful, in fact, that my health was being affected. I am ready for change. I embrace it. I am a lone reed---a lone reed.