My First Gymnastics Meet and Such

Somehow, I've arrived at this point in my life where I have only recently attended my very first gymnastics meet. I sat by a nice couple, parents of another gymnast, who gave me a few tips.

Tip #1: Grab a roster on your way in. It has the gymnast's names, levels, team names, and everything. Somehow I missed this. And so did the two women who were taking my money. I told them in my native English that this was "my very first gymnastics meet ever." I asked them, "What do I do? Where do I go? From where shall I watch? Anything else I need to know about attending a gymnastics meet?" One stamped my hand with the word GYMNASTICS as the other collected the money and NEITHER mentioned a word about some roster. Hello...I just TOLD you it was "my first gymnastics meet ever!"

Tip #2: Gymnastics meets NEVER (as in...never) begin on time. Oh. After they stamped my hand and took my money, they DID bother to mention that the meet wasn't actually going to start for another forty-five minutes. As in, it would be starting forty-five minutes late. Oh. So I walked to a store I had never before entered (a big day of firsts, I tell you) and browsed, but did not spend. Then I walked over to the library and immediately found a book that my library didn't have, so I checked it out. Then I returned to the meet. After I got friendly with the couple sitting next to me, they supposed the meet wouldn't be starting for another forty-five minutes. Really. That gave me plenty of time to borrow the roster and read everything on it. I discovered that not only was I going to be watching one of my current students, but a former student was competing on another team as well. Bonus!

Tip #3: Guard your seat with your life. Yes, the one you're currently sitting in. Don't even act like you might move or stand up or stretch because then you'll have about seventeen people asking in chorus, "Are you leaving?" No, I'm not leaving. The meet hasn't even started yet.

Tip #4: Warming up takes a long time. Those gymnasts warm up forEVER.

Tip #5: Once the meet starts, realize that just because you know someone on a team, their team may not actually get to do any of the events for like another thirty minutes or so.

Tip #6: Be IMPRESSED! Every time some girl I've never met before sprang off the board onto the lower bar and then STOOD ON TOP OF IT and hurled herself to the higher bar, I would get butterflies in my tummy. Every stinking time. Back flips on the beam--oh man! I know it sounds like I've never watched the Olympics (I have), but those girls were amazing. The floor routines were spectacular.

I ended up staying long enough to witness my little pip squeak student do two vaults. I watched her whole team vault. I learned that my girl is a Level 8 and that Level 10 is Olympic Level. Wow! I saw some girls run the length of the gym and simply vault over while that really nice man explained that they are scored on straight arms and stuff like that. Then he told me that because my girl was a Level 8, she's required to do some special tricks and flips before she goes over and sticks her landing. Very impressive! She's only eleven years old. I wish I could have stayed for the whole meet, but I didn't realize it was a 4-5 hour block of time. The couple I was sitting next to said that they spend all those hours at a meet but they only really see their daughter "perform" for a grand total of 4 minutes. I'm always impressed by these devoted parents that help their children succeed in their chosen activities, no matter what. I had to leave.

K requested lasagna Saturday night so of coure, that's what I made. On Sunday, I had a presidency meeting and when I got back, the eggs were on the griddle and the pancakes and strawberries were waiting! Such a lovely Valentine Brunch. On Monday, we met for dinner at Tucci's and I loved the pine nuts in my farafalle. K loved his canneloni (sp?).

And here we are at the end of Valentine's Day. Some of my students went all out on their Valentine Boxes--I love seeing those. One girl had a heart braid in the back of her hair. I'll tell you, there are some incredible mothers out there who do so many things with and for their children. Our room mothers came through with three really fun games and big pink sugar cookies from Shirley's Bakery. Thank you so much, Mothers!

After school I was reading the latest installments of The Weekend News (student journals) and thought I would share a couple of clips:

"Got banned from eating a pound of cheese a day."

"Finally, my depression is unnoticeable. Yay."

"I am writing a new book."

"We are getting married! My brother got engaged! My mom and my dad including us kids love the girl."

"Over the weekend the greatest singer in history died, Whitney Houston. The whole world was devastated, but the weird thing is I auditioned to sing the Star Spangled Banner on the day she died."

And there you have it folks: gymnastics, Valentine's Day, and Such. I'll leave off with a photo of some of my teacher loot--LOVE the banana--a Valentine's First!

Luckiest Thing Ever

It was an interesting week with my students--I feel like I should do a "Week in Review!" Can't imagine it would be so interesting to some of my readers (who are you? don't be shy), but I'm going to record a few recent happenings anyway.

On Monday, school started and we promptly headed to a computer lab to type persuasive essays. I left our classroom dark and locked. Everyone was quietly pecking away when in burst one of our students who exclaimed in an overly loud voice, "My dog slept in this morning! Sorry I'm late." Maybe you had to be there, but a few of us tried to keep our laughter to a quiet chuckle.

On Tuesday, a student had a run-in with a bully from another grade. He didn't know his name or which class he belonged to, so he was advised by an administrator to look for the kid during lunch and recess, in order to point him out to a duty guard. Getting bullied is not funny at all, but my teacher heart totally noticed when my student used the word perpetrator. We celebrate great vocabulary and word choice.

On Wednesday, I was checking planners. A child had completed the math homework, but not the spelling. When I asked, this child reported, "I couldn't get my spelling done because I had therapy last night and I ended up behaving in a really rude manner which ended in a big fight with my sister." Oh, okay. The excuses this century are getting better and better: my dog slept in, I had therapy last night.

On Thursday, a parent called to let me know her daughter's period had started. I love this family so much as I have taught some of this girl's older siblings as well, but still, I'm not sure I need to know certain things. But hey, if it makes them feel better to know that I know, then okay, I'm fine with it too, I guess.

And today was Friday. It seemed as if all H-E-Double Hockey Sticks broke out today. A perfectly well-behaved boy disassembled a red ink pen whilst attending class in another teacher's room, spilling ink on the desk and chair. Sure enough, we've got the "morphing-into-sixth-graders" thing going on. Another highly respectable boy chose to say the following in front of other classmates, though his comment was not directed at anyone in particular, "Hey, Butt Crack, Junior!" Butt Crack Junior? I'd rather not hear that in my classroom. One girl didn't have a yellow science packet on her desk and couldn't find her pencil and, and, and...she just sort of crumbled into tears saying, "I guess I'm just really TIRED today." I think we ALL were!

Somewhere in the middle of all these messes, we managed to change mixed numbers to improper fractions and improper fractions to mixed numbers. We tutored our first grade buddies in reading. We read the newspaper. We learned about erosion, Pangaea, and the 1964 earthquake in Alaska that was the longest ever recorded (five full minutes, folks, five full minutes). My class earned ten minutes of extra recess for their success in our month-long readathon. We watched CNN Student News. We sang "Be a Builder" to build up self-esteem. We went to the library to check out books about our American Heroes. We wrote. We spelled. We recycled.

We painted. Have I ever mentioned how painting with thirty-four youngsters takes years off my life? We talked about VALUE, an art concept they've already been exposed to thanks to Mrs. P. However, we related VALue to VALentine's Day because "We Value Our Friends." You know, it all goes back to being a Builder. They had a good time mixing colors and playing around with the whole concept of Value. I love hearts and couldn't resist snapping a few pictures for the ol' blog.

Other things were going on as well! On Monday, our whole team had to present in front of the School Community Council. According to the scores on our presentation, we'll be earning a few bonus dollars. No pressure there. The team before us went late. We kept ours to thirty minutes, but of course, it went past contract time. On Tuesday I had a hair appointment. Just a trim. Nothing improved.

On Wednesday, I had a technology class after school. Makes for a late night. Learned some new things. Actually assisted others who knew even less than I. Imagine! On Thursday, I had another class--literature. Met the author of CANDY BOMBER, a nonfiction book about generous Americans during World War II. Loved it. When I got home, some ladies came over for a training meeting. Another long night.

Today is Friday and after school a parent came in to talk to me. Together, we resolved an issue. She left and I sanitized my desk with Clorox Wipes. I came home for another training meeting with even more Church Ladies. I'm pretty sure I'm done training people for a while.

As I head into the weekend and think of what's been happening during the last few days, I must tell you about my FAVORITE part of the week. I had my darlings respond in their journals to this prompt: What's the luckiest thing that has ever happened to you?

There were some interesting things to read about: finding lots of money on the floor at Wal-Mart, going to Disneyland, winning the Pig Race at the Corn Festival, intercepting that pass--these kids are truly lucky. But then I read this one paper that put things into perspective for me. I don't have it with me to quote exactly, but here's the gist of it:

"The luckiest thing that's ever happened to me is that Jesus died for me. I don't know if it's really lucky and if it really counts, but that's all I have."

Luckiest thing ever. And sometimes that's all I have too.

Super Bowl Weekend

Weekends start on Friday afternoons, right? I stayed at school until 5:40 p.m. to finish my thirty-fifth and final parent/teacher conference as well as complete many assignments and make some attempt to prepare for Monday. I finally left with a stack of math tests to correct. Boy, I know how to PARTY!

I arrived home around six and proceeded to whip up a treat for Craft and Sewing Night. Do I craft? No. Do I sew? No. However, when The Park Ranger has a tour of duty, I do what I can to keep myself from sobbing in the dark. Besides, if I never bothered to go to Craft and Sewing Night, how on EARTH would I ever get my pants hemmed? W. does it FOR me! I can certainly muster up a little treat now and then in exchange for hemmed pants.

Who was the first guest to arrive at seven? Yep. It was me. The one who doesn't sew. I set the treats down, whipped out my pants saying, "Dark brown this time," and grabbed the bright pink pen for correcting. Hey, I can correct math and socialize at the same time--it's not like I was reading essays. Other women began to arrive. In pajamas, as the invitation indicated. I do not partake in pajama outings, but I am not opposed to those that do. I really didn't have time to change anyway.

Listening to the ladies chat taught me a few things about myself. Something whispered, "You're a stranger here." I wondered how and when these women were gifted with desires to decorate and create things with fabric. I racked my brain. Is it because we rent? Is it because I work full time outside of the home? More than full time, mind you. Is it because I care too much about my students? Is it because of the way I was raised? Is it because I was the only person there that did not carry the honored title of Mother? They all knocked on the door with sewing machines and sergers in hand, ready to get their craft on. I admired them aloud commenting that I couldn't believe everyone had a sewing machine. Some volunteered, "This was my mom's." "This belonged to my grandmother." Really. My mom and my grandma hunted moose in Alaska. I don't recall seeing any sewing machines.

I left without fanfare to have my nightly phone call with The Ranger. I told him I felt like such an outcast (not due to the way I was treated, mind you, those ladies are all darling). So entirely UN-domestic! The Ranger said, "Then don't go to those things!!!" There's male problem-solving for ya.

I woke up on Saturday morning and stepped on the scale. I decided I had better get to the temple, though I'm not sure those two things relate. I love going to the temple! I had the opportunity to do sealings and that was just what I needed. A reminder. I saw a couple of people there that I know--ALWAYS happens. The Ranger can't get over it.

It was a sunny day, so I went to the car wash. Such a great feeling--why don't I do that more often? I pulled into the self-serve vacuum area and realized it was a "skirt-alert" kind of day. As I was trying to hold my skirt down with one hand and manage the power vacuum with the other, sometimes accidentally allowing the vacuum to suck my skirt up into it, I was approached by a cold, starving college student who works for Techna-Glass, or some such entity. He asked how I was. I replied, "The wind is blowing my skirt up!" He didn't skip a beat, "Mind if I take a look at your windshield?" I had no issue with that and as it turns out, he couldn't find anything that needed repair. Once I got myself back in the car with my skirt properly situated, I headed for the grocery store and gas station. I bought all the supplies for making homemade pizza because The Ranger and I had a plan. I unloaded the groceries and then headed to a baby shower.

The shower was, in a word, Magnificent. Throngs of people! Magazine-worthy decorating! Designer cupcakes! The mother-to-be and her husband are expecting identical twin girls. They will adopt them just as soon as they are born. Matching baby quilts in The Chosen Colors. Matching twin carseats. I'm not particularly close to this new mother--just a casual acquaintance. I knew several of the women there. People are so kind and friendly and tolerant of me. I started to feel that same feeling, "You're a stranger here." I knew enough people to chat and visit and say hi. I can make small talk with anyone. However, once again, I felt like an outcast.

HOLD ON! Am I turning into a fifth grade drama queen? Am I whining about not having any friends? Scary, isn't it?

So, I hung around. I made the rounds. I told myself to remember that I fully understand I will never be a mother here on Earth and to get a grip. I kept thinking, "If I'm not going to learn all the 'normal' things that most women learn by being mothers, what else, or how else, will I learn??" You know, I wouldn't suggest asking yourself questions like that. So then I settled on this: I am honestly and truly happy for people that get to/got to have children. I don't mind going to Church on Mother's Day at all. God has blessed me with some kind of amazing Peace so that most of the time, I'm pretty okay with His Plan. There. That's better.

It was time to leave the shower. I thought I should say something to the Guest of Honor. I asked her about the framed sonogram. We made a little small talk. I had a real smile on my face--no kidding. I was totally fine again. And then this amazing thing happened. She threw her arms around me and whispered something in my ear to let me know she understood. She was aware of me. We both became slightly teary-eyed and I said, "It's okay. I went to the temple this morning and was reminded of The Blessings." And just like that, I didn't feel like such a stranger any longer. Who knew that the Mother-to-Be would be The One to help the Mother-to-Never-Be? Amazing.

I went home. It was so sunny outside, but I felt exhausted. I hadn't read the newspaper yet, so I crawled into bed with the front page in my hands and didn't know another thing until four hours had passed. I guess I was pretty tired. When I woke up, I felt bad about not making it back to my classroom on my day off (so much to do!). And then I remembered The Ranger would be home in TWO HOURS and that thought alone motivated me to get moving! I hustled. I bustled. I tidied up. I made chili. I kissed him like I missed him when he walked through the door. And how I missed him! I miss him every second.

Sunday morning was perfect. I was assigned to teach the lesson in Relief Society entitled, "Something Better." Now doesn't that have a ring to it? I put my finishing touches on it and tuned in to Music and the Spoken Word. The Ranger woke up and we talked for awhile. I took off for Church early to set up for my lesson. The Ranger walked over a bit later. I was assigned to attend a different meeting during Sunday School, so I actually didn't see The Ranger (or get to sit next to him) until Sacrament Meeting. Guess who decided to bear his testimony? A pleasant surprise. Love him.

After church, we made pizza. I created chicken alfredo on homemade crust with spinach, mushrooms, and tomato. The Ranger favored Pillsbury with traditional red sauce, lots of meat, along with a few vegetables he actually eats: mushroom, green pepper, and black olive. We taste-tested one another's pizza, but in the end, we each voted for our own. When he tucked me in that night, he thanked me for a really great day. I'm pretty sure he loves me, but all I would have to do is leave a box of Velveeta out on the counter for him to get all gushy and start talking about a great day.

Today is Monday. I got up early and went to school. I taught like crazy and said goodbye to my students feeling like I hadn't accomplished nearly enough. Our team made a presentation to the School Community Council to show them what we are doing to be the best we can be. It went late. I raced out the door and called The Ranger to find out our rendezvous spot this week. I was told to head East on I-80, etc., etc. We had a lovely dinner together, talked in my car for awhile, and kissed goodbye again.

And that, My Friends, was My Super Bowl Weekend. I suppose someone played football at some point, but I was busy with other things.

Guess I'll end with dessert!

SEP's

For anyone who wants to know, SEP stands for Student Education Plan. You might be more familiar with the term Parent Teacher Conferences. I have thirty-four students, therefore, I have scheduled thirty-five conferences. Why thirty-five and not thirty-four? Because, to quote a parent, some people who have produced offspring "can't stand to be in the same room together." Not even for ten minutes.

Tonight was the first night. It went well! I learned some things. One family revealed that their children read aloud to each other while one child is showering in order to increase their Jazz Readathon total minutes! Wow. One family doesn't understand why I do Honor Roll awards at the end of each term. One parent still has enough gumption to look his child in the eye and call the bluff, "I think you're full of baloney." Love that! And, most pleasant of all, I still get hugs. From parents!

For some reason, I had a flashback this evening of a parent teacher conference while teaching on Lana'i. Most of the parents were Filipino (or should I say Pilipino) immigrants who spoke, pardon me if I mess up the spellings, Ilokano and/or Visayan. A lot of my kids had to translate for Mom and Dad during the conference. One tall, large, gruff-looking Filipino Daddy walked into the classroom and sort of grunted when he sat down. I chattered away, pausing occasionally for his son to translate. Pretty much, there was no verbal response or physical gestures from the man, but he seemed like he was watching me and listening to every word. After considerable wait-time, I decided to sort of wrap up, "Do you have any questions?" The man spoke! He asked, "My boy he one pangalo?" Having never heard the term "pangalo (sp?)", I hesitated. I looked at the boy and he answered my silent question, "Troublemaker." I smiled. "Oh NO! Never! Your son is such a GOOD boy!" The man didn't crack a smile or anything. He grunted as he stood and walked out. That's all he wanted to know!

Seven Million Notes

Friday the 13th wasn't the best day for me, but I don't really believe anything superstitious about that particular day, so you know. It was just a little hectic and rough. We were having the Boston Tea Party that day, so the students were flying a tad high, if you know what I mean.

Right before the bell rang in the morning, my crown popped off (same crown that popped off in August, if you care). I had an appointment for later this month to get the whole crown done over, but the crown just couldn't wait. So, I'm thinking, "Great. Bell's gonna ring, three day weekend is almost here, and I'm supposed to teach." I got the kids inside and told them that I had to make a quick call to my dentist. Dentist wasn't in--receptionist assured me I would be FINE until Tuesday morning. We were headed to Vegas to celebrate my husband's birthday this month. "I'm a tough girl, I can do this!"

Children have needs, a thousand each. Thirty-four children have thirty-four thousand needs and you never know what their state of mind is when they walk through that classroom door. "Can I go pay my lunch money?" "Can I call my mom, I forgot such and such." "Can I go to the bathroom?" "When are you passing out the tea bags?" And so on.

One girl waltzed in with three dozen donuts to celebrate her upcoming birthday. "When can I pass these out?" One boy waltzed in with his violin. "May I play a couple of pieces for the class?"

I took attendance, I checked planners and homework, I explained the rules for the Boston Tea Party, we sang our birthday song, I chose to eat the donut, we pledged ourselves to the flag. And so on.

You want to play your violin? Go right ahead.

It was lovely.

First he played a piece by Bach, explaining and demonstrating the proper way to pronounce Bach's name. Then he played part of an original composition which would have lasted about ten minutes had he played the whole piece, but he understood it would be better under these circumstances to play only a portion, perhaps three to five minutes. It was the most beautiful, melancholy violin music you'd ever like to hear. It made me forget about my tooth. After the applause, I commented, "That was so melancholy and sad sounding--beautiful!" His face broke into a huge grin and he said, "I LOVE to play sad violin music!" He calls this piece "Seven Million Notes."

Seven million notes. Seven million things to do in one fifth grade classroom. Seven million reasons to smile and laugh as these wonderful children help me make it through my hectic day minus one tooth. Seven million blessings!

Vegas, Our Way

We always have fun in Las Vegas, but probably not the kind of fun most people associate with Las Vegas. We did stay in a casino, but it's a bit off the strip, so not so spendy. We've stayed there before and we like it because we can get from the parking garage to our room without having to walk through the casino and bad air. This casino has a bowling alley with seventy lanes. We bowled two games each. I showed improvement! The first time I scored 66 and the second time I scored 67. We had a blast anyways! This casino also has eighteen movie theaters, but we've never had the time to actually go to a movie there. K bought tickets for a show at the MGM Grand--we saw KA. It's one of those Cirque du Soleil shows and it was fabulous. We really enjoyed it more than we thought we would. Wow. So...city park, Vegas show, bowling, buffet, Church, Red Rock Canyon, Valley of Fire...THAT'S how WE do Vegas! I put the picture of the peacock feather at the beginning because it's the closest thing we really saw to a Vegas Showgirl!
Here's my Birthday Boy so happy to be outside in the nice weather having a picnic lunch. One of our first stops on Saturday was a park called Floyd Lamb Park at Tule Springs, a city park inside Las Vegas City Limits. We really enjoyed it!

Meet Harry. Harry does a great job of taking care of the place. In K's words, this park had "all manner of fowl." I can't tell you how many species of birds we saw, but the flocks were multitudinous. There were several ponds and people were fishing and we enjoyed walking around everywhere. We stepped on all types of fowl excrement. I couldn't help think about it later when the guy at the bowling alley asked for one shoe from each of us. "Here you go..."

You've heard of someone giving a "sideways glance?" Well, Harry did. Harry gave me one long sideways glance.

Harry hissed at me. He closed his beak before I could photograph it wide open, but after he hissed, he honked at the others to warn them of the approaching woman. He raised up, stretching his neck skyward as if to say, "One more step, Lady, and I'm comin' after ya!" Clearly, I knew Harry meant business, so I backed off. Maybe another time, Harry.

You put your right leg in, you put your right leg out...

...And shake it all about!

Someone's having a bad hair day. Actually I worry about this one, but she looks happy, well-fed...I guess she's surviving with a broken feather or whatever.

What do you suppose the heritage of this guy is? Honestly, he looks half turkey and half white goose...I don't know. He was with a hundred other geese eating handouts thrown to him. I think he gets a lot more thrown to him, because he is a different looking creature. Hm...

There were peacocks (and peacock poop) all over the place. Why do they get to be so blue? I can see that in the rainforest, but here? I don't get it.

On Sunday, we went to church at the Hacienda Heights Ward. Great folks! Everyone thought we were there for Benny, a twenty-something guy who was getting confirmed in Sacrament Meeting. "Are you here for Benny?" "You must be here for Benny!" Sunday School was good, but I just loved Relief Society, probably because they gave me chocolate first thing! They have this little basket of welcome cards with a Hershey's Nugget attached with a message welcoming visitors and saying they hope we can find some "nugget" of truth to take away from their meeting. These people know how to make friends fast. And then...the sister who was teaching the lesson just happened to be giving out chocolate chip cookies! I took a small bite and saved the rest for K--yeah, I was feeling guilty about all the chocolate when I was sure he was getting no such thing in Priesthood Meeting. It was HIS big birthday bash weekend, so I shared. After church, we tried to visit the old Historic Mormon Fort, but it was closed. So then...we headed out to one of our favorite spots...RED ROCK CANYON. They have some "Watch out for Desert Tortoises!" signs on the road, so I got all excited, but then I read something in the pamphlet that said the desert tortoise spends ninety-five percent of its life in burrows. NINETY-FIVE PERCENT! How am I EVER supposed to see one in the wild? Bonus: Red Rock Canyon was part of the fee-free weekend, so we totally lucked out there.

Happy Hiking Hubby!

This cactus is called cholla. Perhaps everyone already knows that, but I didn't. I make these comments while hiking such as, "Hmm, I wonder what kind of cactus that is." And my husband, The Park Ranger, usually has a ready answer. There were no interpretive signs for him to cheat from...he just knows stuff.

Over the weekend, we were working on what K called a "fun family project." We are about to begin our annual Jazz Readathon at school and all of the teachers have to submit photos of themselves reading in interesting places. So, we have a lot of photos of me reading with Lady Liberty at New York, New York, me reading to birds, me reading at M & M World, me reading to the MGM lion, and so on. In the end, I'm sending them the picture of me reading with fish at the aquarium, but here's one of me reading in the desert.

One last view of Red Rock Canyon--a soothing Sabbath compared to Lost Wages, Nevada.

On the way home we stopped off at Valley of Fire State Park. We've been there before, in fact, we've "done" the whole park (all the trails, pull-outs, etc.), but when you're in a sunny place in January and it's a lovely sixty-three degrees, you have to stretch those legs.

Petrified logs.

Oh the geology! Red rock scenery at Valley of Fire.

J just loves it when K takes "action shots" of her. As mentioned previously, we are easily entertained--just give us some rocks on which to play. This area was called Seven Sisters.

Near...

FAR!

Looking for a way down...

Happy Boy, Happy Birthday!

We found flowers blooming in January. Mother Nature remembered K on his birthday too!