Friday Fun

After a much dreaded but highly successful dental check-up,

 lunch and play with a friend,

and a boring but necessary oil change,

 

Sara thought we should make star cookies.

So we did.

Swimming Lessons, Part II

(Alternatively titled, What a Difference a Few Days Make.)

Sara had her final swimming lesson this morning, and I'm so pleased with the progress she made.  Yesterday morning, we went directly from lessons to a swimming party where Sara unleashed her inner daredevil and did jump after jump into the pool.  I don't know if it was because the party was more casual than lessons and allowed her to just swim/play on her own time, but all of a sudden, she couldn't get enough of the water.  We went back to the pool this afternoon, where Sara successfully put her new skills in action.  It'll be a while before she learns much of the real swimming technique, but for now, it is nice to know that she has the confidence and skill to be safe in the water - and to enjoy it!  Next up: we'll see what she thinks of swimming in Lake Ida when we're in MN in a couple of weeks.

Book Talk

Our book club pick this month was The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff.  As I've mentioned a couple of times, I'm fascinated with "Sister Wives" on TLC, so I was immediately interested in this selection, which tells two parallel stories of polygamy.  One story belongs to Ann Eliza Young, the infamous 19th wife of Brigham Young in the late 1870s.  She apostatized from the Mormon church, went on a nation-wide lecture circuit to speak about her circumstances and choices, and wrote about her experiences in her memoir, Wife No. 19.  The other story belongs to Jordan, an excommunicated member of a current day community of Firsts from Utah.  When Jordan's mom, also a 19th wife, is convicted of killing his father, he returns to Utah to help save his mother from life in prison.  Fascinating and well written, Ebershoff's novel is comprised of many narrative forms - research papers, news articles, interviews, Wikipedia articles, etc.  It's long, but you'll turn the pages quickly.

The Mill River Recluse by Darcie Chan came up as a potential pick a couple of months ago at book club, but we passed on it at the time because this novel is only available on e-readers.  When I got my Kindle, I decided to give this novel a try; it is only 99 cents, so I figured it wouldn't be a huge loss if it wasn't very good.  Although it wasn't a work of literary genius (how many of those types of books do I read anyway?), I enjoyed this book.  The recluse is Mary McAllister, who was left disfigured by her late husband, and who deals with extreme social anxiety disorder.  As a result, she spends her life in her large home overlooking the small town of Mill River.  Her only true friend is the local pastor, but she feels connected to each person in town as she watches them go about life from her window.  The novel alternates simultaneously between the 1940s, when Mary is a young wife, and present day, and between the stories of a variety of Mill River townspeople who are unwittingly a part of Mary's life.  This story is both sad and feel-good; it will end the way you want it to end, and, while predictable, it's definitely worth your buck.

Call it peer pressure. Call it curiosity.  Either way, I did it: I read the Fifty Shades trilogy. Yowsa!  Don't roll your eyes (eek!) when I concur with what I had been told: all the K-F-ery aside, there's really an excellent story embedded throughout.  I was surprised to find that the story itself was incredibly emotional, and I'm still not quite sure how the author did it.  Even though I didn't want to be, I was a fan from the start, and there was no doubt that I'd have to keep reading at the end of books one and two.  So now call me a convert.  Call me an addict.  Either way, I may never be the same.  You won't be, either, once you start reading.

“There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.”
Joseph Brodsky

Swimming Lessons

 

We are half way through swimming lessons, for this session at least.  Sara and three friends are taking lessons four days a week for two weeks in a row.  The repetition has been good, but by the fourth lesson, there was a lot of screaming and crying (among all the friends, though Sara may have done way more than her fair share).  I think reality of being put under the water and having to figure it out set in.  I'm really pleased with how much the kids are learning; Ms. Kristy is pushing them to jump in, swim under the water, move their arms and legs correctly, etc.  Learning to swim can't be a half-a** endeavor, and it certainly isn't with Ms. Kristy.  Despite her anger in the video, Sara gave Ms. Kristy a hug after this particular lesson, and on the ride home even said, "Mom, I like swimming lessons!"  Tonight is lesson number five.  At the end of this, I'm hoping for a confident little swimmer.  And added bonus would be someone who loves watching the Olympic swimming events with me when the Games roll around later this summer.

rough around the edges

Lots of people say that "kids will be kids" and especially that "boys will be boys", but we scoff at these phrases when a child exhibits some more, um ... delinquent tendencies.  Segue to summer school: all of my summer school students are incoming freshmen (hopefully) who failed at least one core class in 8th grade.  Their transition to 9th grade is dependent on their success in summer school.  In general, we're not talking about a group of incredibly motivated learners.  Many of them have spent years arguing with teachers, finding trouble with their friends, and generally being turned off of school.  What does motivate the majority of them at this point is the dreadful thought of having to return for a fourth year of middle school.

One student with whom I've spent some quality time since summer school started is really pulling on my heartstrings.  I have to remind him daily to pull up his pants, and one day I had to ask him to put on a shirt over his wife-beater tank so we didn't all have to look at his pit hair and his chest full of hickeys.  Nice.  (Luckily he got the message and I haven't had to ask him about that since.)  Tonight he's getting a court-ordered hair cut.  Court-ordered because he is facing assault charges.  Also, his mom is my age.  And, you know, she's pretty busy with her own life so she can't really be bothered to parent.

Despite everything hard about him, I am constantly reminded of the fact that he's a kid fighting to make it though the odds are already seemingly stacked against him.  And he has a heart.  He asks me every single day about the baby.  Today he let me know, in his most genuine manner, that it would probably be in my best interest to wear flats instead of heels so I don't hurt my back. 

This morning on his way to class, he told me, "I'm going to have a good day today, Ms."  A little while later, he was being disruptive in math.  But the teacher realized that his behavior wasn't a result of not understanding the content, as it is for many students.  His behavior was about needing attention.  So she gave him an Expo pen and put him at the board.  He walked the class through a number of algebra problems ... correctly. 

You know what that means: he's pretty smart, too.

When he was getting on the bus this afternoon, I said, "I'm glad you had such a good day!"  He said, "I know; I'm working hard, Ms."  It's absolutely possible that he'll show up tomorrow or the next day and make a poor choice and leave me feeling frustrated or disappointed.  He is, after all, a kid.  But that disappointment fades when a kid like him shouts down the hallway, "Ms., I got my work done today!" in hopes of receiving a little praise and encouragement.  In this need, he is no different than any other kid.

I don't pretend to be able to change lives, but I hope to be someone who continues to believe in kids, even when they've seemingly given people every reason not to.  As humans, we generally rise or fall to the expectations set for us; it's self-fulfilling prophecy.  You've heard the saying that those who are hardest to love need it the most, and this is especially true of kids.  I have to believe that the grace we offer today's kids, even those - especially those - who may appear not to deserve it, will be returned in kind.

Enjoying Pregnancy

When I found out I was pregnant with baby two, I promised myself that I would try really hard to just appreciate this pregnancy without getting wrapped up in body image issues.  I remembered not really enjoying my pregnancy with Sara; it wasn't necessarily a hard pregnancy, it just wasn't super enjoyable.  A means to an end, if you will.  So I told myself early on in this pregnancy to just enjoy it and to revel in my changing body.

Well, I've tried.  I really have.  It's incredibly apparent - to me, anyway - that I just don't have that I-love-pregnancy-gene that some women apparently have had since the start.  Even though I understand the beauty of the reward this time around, I still can't say I'm really enjoying my pregnancy.  Most days I could really use a cold adult beverage.  And I don't love the way my body looks; in fact, I'm mostly just self-conscious about it.  Even after trying to convince myself to feel otherwise, and even though I really want to just relax and enjoy, I can't get myself to completely embrace this particular state.  And I can't decide if my feelings are ridiculous or valid.

This morning after swimming lessons, Sara and I ran into Home Depot for a few yard items.  It's true that I ended up with more than I originally planned to buy, but I didn't feel like it was anything I couldn't handle.  I was caught off guard when, as I opened the back of my car to unload the items from the cart, an older man came over from where he was putting items in his own truck and offered to help.  I told him I thought I would be okay, but then he gestured to his mid-section and asked, "Ma'am, are you...?"  When I told him that, yes, I am pregnant, he said, "You really don't need to be lifting these items on your own."  He proceeded to put all of my purchases in the car for me, and I thanked him for his help, all the while feeling a little helpless and silly.  But he had practically insisted on doing it all for me. 

I completely appreciated the gesture, which made me wonder whether I should just be milking this opportunity to sit back and let someone else do the work.  I feel like I sometimes have to remind people, especially at work, that I'm pregnant, not handicapped.  But since people tend to want to jump up to keep me from doing even easy tasks like picking something up off the floor, maybe I should just let them.  It's not really in my nature, but soon enough I'll be back to my normal self and the offers to help will probably stop. 

Now that I'm entering into the serious uncomfortableness of pregnancy, I don't foresee myself crossing over to the side of those who just love this state.  But perhaps I should at least allow myself to enjoy the perks.  What do you think?

Hey June

That title makes you want to sing, doesn't it?  Me too.

I can't believe what a horrible blogger I have been.  Not sure what my problem is, other than the fact that I feel like I suddenly woke up and it's almost the middle of June.  Time is simply escaping me. 

Summer school is in full-swing, and it's going well.  Most days I'm leaving there, eating in my car, and racing back to my own campus to attend to my regular summer to-do list.  Since we have Fridays off for the next few weeks, our hours Monday-Thursday are 7:00-5:30.  These hours are normal during the school year, but they're a little rough during the summer ... and somehow, they still aren't providing me sufficient time within which to complete my tasks. 

We're doing a lot of hiring this summer, which is both exhausting and exciting.  I love having new teachers on campus - fresh ideas and insight and promise.  However, finding the perfect people is tough.  Sometimes there are so many qualified candidates that it's hard to discern what sets one apart.  Other times ... it's the opposite, and that's even harder.  On the priority list this week: Texas History, Algebra, and two *yikes, two* Spanish teachers.  And we only want the best.  All others need not apply.

Sara starts swimming lessons this week with Audrey and Madi, friends from school.  The last couple of times we've been at the pool, she's done a good job kicking and paddling.  She has also been interested in putting her head in the water, but hasn't quite figured out the whole close your mouth/hold your breath/close your eyes/dunk concept. I'm excited for her to have some real instruction, especially because I think she's most apt to listen when the directions come from a teacher figure instead of mom or dad.

Tonight we are vegging, watching a movie (is it really only Monday?).  Sara is totally into a 1980's Care Bears movie that my parents got her.  I think it cost around $3.00, and it shows.  No updated animation whatsoever, but she absolutely loves it.  It's the little things!  Speaking of the little things, I have to record this for my own memory: last night, Sara was having a bout of defiance while getting ready for bed.  I gave her a warning that if she didn't follow directions, we wouldn't read any stories at bedtime.  Her behavior continued.  When we walked into her bedroom, she immediately went over to her books, and I had to reminder that she had lost her book privileges for the night.  Picture this: when she realized I was serious, she literally crumbled to the floor and immediately began shedding tears of pure devastation.  It wasn't a fit or a tantrum - it was full on grief, from the very depths of her soul.  I've never witnessed something so funny and so sad at the same time.  She was still mad at me this morning and requested that Steve pick her up from school today.  Tough love ... always tougher on the parent, I'm convinced.

Finally, after much deliberation and debate, we just might have a name for little sister.  I'm not ready to reveal yet, but I think we're very close, if not there.  Now it's just a matter of taking care of the rest of the baby-needs list (see previous post - the list is pretty much still in tact).

Have a good week!