The Games

I talked to someone today who has yet to watch any Olympic coverage. How is that possible?  Most people I know had been waiting all summer for the Games to begin.  During Friday evening's highly anticipated Opening Ceremonies of the XXX Olympiad, my sister and I were texting wildly back and forth.  Here's a snippet of a highlight in our conversation (nearly verbatim):

Me: I keep waiting for Mary Poppins to arrive.

Melissa: Ha! *then, on a teacher-brain note: I'm definitely using YouTube clips of this when I teach the Industrial Revolution.

Both of us at the same time a little while later: OMG! There's Mary Poppins!

Sara in the background: Hey, there's Harry Moppins!

(a repeat picture, lest you forget the depths of our love)

Here's the thing about the Olympics: watching makes me SO nervous.  I get butterflies in my stomach, I bite my nails, I can hardly sit still.  I feel like I'm the parent or sibling of a competitor ... or even the competitor herself.  It's a little ridiculous.  Finally, last night, when the men's gymnastics team started to crumble, I grabbed my laptop and quickly opened the yahoo.com article with the red disclaimer: "Spoiler alert!"  In the interest of staying pregnant for a few more weeks, I felt like it was my only option.  And after learning that the men weren't able to come back from their early demise, I was able to watch for the rest of the evening without the fear of going into labor as a result of my myriad nervous ticks.

Today when all of the Facebook chatter started about women's gymnastics, and people were up in arms over the spoiler alerts, I quickly navigated my way back to a news source that would allow me to find the standings.  Once again, I can watch tonight for enjoyment, without having to pace the room preoccupied with my concerns over the final scores.  In my research today, I also learned that Michael Phelps won another gold.  When I watch his relay race tonight in prime time and see the shots of his mom clenching her fists in the stands as he dives into the pool, I won't have a knot in the pit of my stomach.  How nice.

I haven't always been so open to spoiler alerts, especially during the much-anticipated Winter Games of 1994.  The EPFSC girls and parents had made plans to gather at the Chaska Community Center to watch Nancy Kerrigan go for gold weeks after her merciless beat down by Tonya Harding's white trash homies.  Even pre-internet, I learned before viewing that Nancy would be going home with silver.  Oh, the disappointment.  Stupid Oksana Baiul and her feathery dress and huge bangs and obnoxiousness.  (Because I think you all deserve to be entertained, I'll insert here that, years later, I learned that Steve had a pretty wicked crush on Nancy Kerrigan in the early nineties.  For the record, he also wanted her to win the gold.)

I'm not sure what has turned me toward the anti-climatic.  It really is so unlike me.  Be it my age, my pregnant state, or my dislike for being wide-awake and wired when prime time ends at 11:00 each night, I'm all about the spoiler alerts this summer (which doesn't mean I'm not watching until 11:00; it just means I can fall asleep more quickly at the end of the night's events).  I won't hate on you, NBC and other credible media outlets stationed in London.  You're inadvertently making my veiwing experiences more pleasant than ever.

Three cheers for Team USA!  May the odds be ever in your favor!

baby update

I sure don't remember feeling this tired and uncomfortable this early in my pregnancy with Sara.  Maybe that is part of the blissful forgetfulness that accompanies this state of being.  Or maybe it's because when I was this pregnant with Sara, it was November, not hot-as-Hades July.  Either way, I'm feeling a little, um ... done.  Thankfully, there is light at the end of the tunnel: only about six weeks left. 

A few weeks ago, I mentioned that baby girl may have a name.  Well, I spoke too soon.  The name we were considering is out, and we're back at square one.  Names are so hard, and even harder when the two people in charge of doing the naming disagree on what constitutes a good name.  At this point, I'm just hopeful we have a name by the time we make our drive to the hospital (or at least by the time we have to fill out the birth certificate).

I had my first major pregnancy-related meltdown recently.  All along, I had it in my head that I would be ready for baby's arrival before returning to work today.  When it became clear that my days were numbered and my to-do list wasn't shrinking much, the only seemingly reasonable thing left to do (and it happened despite my best efforts to control it) was cry.  A lot.  Steve quickly sprang into action, pulling items out of the attic and suggesting a trip to Sam's for diapers and wipes.  I felt immeasurably better with just a couple of simple items checked off the list.

Sara's behavior lately has been incredibly questionable.  Although I know the whole age factor is in play, I can't help but think that much of it is related to the fact that baby will be here soon.  She has been very clingy, as if every time I walk away from her I'll come back with a baby.  Her defiance has reached new all-time highs, and she's exercising every bit of control she can.  I know that she is noticing that all anyone seems to talk to her about is her baby sister.  It's a completely natural conversation piece, but I can see why it would get to her.  I know she can't articulate it like this, but I have to think she can feel that it's as if she's losing some of her identity as "Sara" as she shifts to "big sister."  My heart breaks at the thought of her feeling any less special or important because she has a sibling.  I know that any parent of more than one child has probably felt this way.  I certainly think I'm also mourning the end of my alone time with her.  I do know, though, that it will all be fine in the end.

As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I began dreading late July and August: nearing the end of a very long 40 weeks, the unbearable heat, and the craziness and stress of the start of school.  If you think of it, send good vibes my way!

Book Talk

Our most recent book club selection was The Water is Wide by Pat Conroy.  He is probably best known for writing The Prince of Tides, which went on to become a highly acclaimed film in the early 90's. TWIW is sort of a memoir-meets-novel; from what I can tell, Conroy based the story loosely off of his experience teaching on an impoverished island off the coast of South Carolina in the late 60's.  Although some pieces of the story may have been altered or even embellished, Conroy is a natural storyteller, and was able to beautifully convey the conundrum he faced as a forward thinking, open minded teacher in the recently-integrated south where his educational philosophy and practices were not embraced by the powers that be.  Conroy admittedly reacted to barriers and criticism with emotion that came out of young age and naivete.  It made me laugh thinking back to the first couple years of my career.  The number of things I said or did out of pure, raw, immature emotion are embarrassingly immeasurable.  I don't mean to compare my experience in any way with Conroy's (there is absolutely no comparison to be made), but I did appreciate the honesty that emerged from his hindsight.  I like to think I have grown in much the same way.  All that aside, this book is a must-read.  Especially for those in education, you'll find scary parallels between the system that exists now and the one that existed then.  If nothing else, you'll appreciate Conroy's frank, no holds barred writing style.

My friend, Ashley, recommended I sign up to receive the Kindle Daily Deal e-mails from Amazon.  As a result, I found myself reading the child in time.  This story follows Stephen, a successful children's book author, as he deals with the kidnapping of his three-year-old daughter.  For obvious reasons, this book was incredibly difficult to read.  Stephen and his wife find themselves traveling very different paths as they cope with their grief, but come full-circle in the end.  While the underlying story was interesting, most of the book was slow-paced and really pretty boring, for lack of a better word.  I found myself skimming through chapters that felt a little disconnected from the real story so I could get back to the matter at hand: finding the lost child.  Although the premise could provide a real page-turner, I never found myself very interested or invested in this book.

The Test popped up as another Daily Deal, and certainly was worth my $1.99.  When a wealthy philanthropist passes away, his children and grandchildren gather for the reading of his will, many anticipating walking away with a decent chunk of money.  What they get instead is a test.  It turns out that, at the end of his life, the philanthropist felt that for all the good he had done, he hadn't instilled in his children the importance of family, giving to others, and leaving an honorable legacy.  In the year that follows, the children are left with various tasks, many of which include repairing broken relationships, giving of themselves, and finding true joy in the paths they've chosen.  A turbulent and tragic series of events ensues, turning the test into a more difficult journey than anyone imagined possible.  Although a bit predictable in parts, overall this was a worthwhile read; the perfect mix of suspense and feel-good for summer.

"Books are a uniquely portable magic."

Stephen King

Wordless Wednesday

The Crayon Game

While we were at the lake house, my mom pulled out a big box of crayons for Sara to use.  She colored for approximately sixty seconds, and then proceeded to invent The Crayon Game.  We all had the pleasure of playing many, many times.

It would go something like this:

Sara would make an announcement along the lines of, "Grownups, we are going to play The Crayon Game.  When I say your name, you pick two colors, o-tay?"  Then she would meticulously lay out all of the crayons, tips pointing in the same direction, on the porch table (The Crayon Game is only to be played on the porch).  Once the crayons were on the table, the game would begin.

Sara would look at the first person and say, "(insert name), what colors are you going to pick?"  Whichever person she had called on would pick two colors.  Sara found them and put them in the bucket. 

And on and on it would go until all of the colors were in the bucket. Sometimes we would play back-to-back games, and other times we would get a little reprieve between sessions.

Being at the lake lends itself to simple pleasures and entertainment; I love it.

Lake Life

During our recent trip to Lake Ida, Sara seriously embraced Lake Life.  I wasn't sure whether she'd really enjoy swimming in a lake after all of her pool time here in Texas, but it didn't take her long to find her lake groove.  Even at three-and-a-half, Sara already has many good lake house memories, and it was fun to watch her continue to love her time Up North.

Looking for rocks ... one of the best things about Lake Ida is that no matter where you jump in, you can see your toes (and all the rocks you could possibly want to pick up and throw).  The clear, clean water is so refreshing.

 It was pretty wavy on a couple of the days, so we made Sara wear her life jacket.  Once she figured out she could just float and ride the waves, she was content.  When not in her life jacket, she showed off her newly acquired swimming skills.

 Floating ... 

Hiding from the spontaneous rain shower that hit while we were out on the boat one day ... it didn't last long, and it made us laugh because the sun was shining throughout the short downpour.

 

Approximately ten seconds after this picture was taken, Sara was out and took a long nap on Grandma's lap while cruising the lake.  Sometimes there is nothing better than a boat nap after a good swim.

Helping Grandpa drive on a sunset cruise ...

Loon party ...

Enjoying her ride ...

Day is done, gone the sun.

See you next summer, Lake Ida!

outtakes