My kind of Saturday

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I'm been having some glitches with my connection from phone camera to computer this past week so I've been without easy access to my photo stream and since I'm a bit spoiled to the joy of a Mac and all its wonder stream products, I just haven't had it in me to download or send singular pictures.  So without pictures, I feel a little lost on words as well.

But I'm going to the trouble to get some weekend pics, as bad quality as they are,  because they show exactly what we did - which is nothing.  On Saturday, I ran an errand, then came home.  Then Kenny ran an errand, then came home.  Then we had a glorious rainstorm that cancelled Elijah's baseball game.  And I cheered because taking 2 girls to a 2 hour game in the drizzly rain and faraway lightning just didn't sound fun.

Hopefully this week, I'll figure out the computer issue and I can get back to feeling guilty that I'm not writing every day like I intend to.


Pic One - Early Saturday
When video game and tv time had reached its quota, the kids resorted to Name That Tune - here Elijah is humming the tune to the Wii ditty.  He bet them $50 they wouldn't.  They didn't.

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Pic Two and Three and Four and Five - Saturday Afternoon
I hid myself in my room to pay bills and budget (a continual challenge for me) and let Kenny take over.  I come out to find K on a ladder with a man-made contraption of pool toys and a rake trying to get a little piece of orange rubber that was thrown up and stuck to our ceiling many months ago.  Little piece of orange rubber doesn't really describe it too well.  You know those toys where you can throw them on a door and they stick and they always get hair and dust all over them they are really gross.  That's what this was.  I suggested nerf guns to help, the kids were all over that.
  It took a while but now our ceiling is safely without a gross piece of orange, stretchy rubberish thing.

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Pic Six - Saturday Evening
Our going-to-bed routine is epic.  Seriously.  It takes a good hour or more to calm the hyper, to say prayers, and read stories.  This pic is a rarity - all 3 kids in a corner listening to Lydia read.  So odd I had to capture it.

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I realize none of this is super interesting, but if you were sitting at work today wondering, hmm, I wonder what the Wards did on Saturday, now I don't have to tell you.

But I will tell you, that out of all our recent Saturday's.  This was one of my favorites.

Urban Adventures X2

            I've lived in the Houston area for almost 15 years and finally, after all that time, put my comfy shoes on and became a tourist to learn a little history about the 4th largest city in America. It's really a funny story.  For Christmas, Kenny and I were on the same wave length.  I got him an Urban Adventure  gift certificate for a Historic Downtown Pub Crawl and he got me the same one only it was a Heart of the Tunnel Walk.  That was December.  It's now April and our gifts were about to expire. (We tend to wait to the last minute, always.) We had to use them. So - we planned the beer tour on Friday night with some friends, the Rivenesses who also bought the deal and then Kenny and I toured the tunnels this afternoon.  That's a lot of Houston history in just a few short days.


        On Friday, after all the work of getting our schedules together with our friends and finding a date, and then finding a babysitter, we thought we were set.  But, we didn't plan on Kenny getting sick for the entire weekend.  So, trooper that he is, he drove downtown with us with the hope he'd be able to at least walk the tour, but instead he spent his entire night sleeping in the van and searching for places to throw up (sorry, too much?) while I played third wheel to the Rivs and traipsed around Houston bars having a grand ol' time.  And it was a grand ol' time.  I left with a gob of interesting fun facts about the beginning of our downtown, the important players, brothels, odd bar owners, and ghosts that still walk old creaky haunted saloons, not to mention a few fantastic drinks.  I really enjoyed Kenny's Christmas present.

      The best part though was when our tour guide walked us by a building on 320 Main street and told us that this was the original Young Women's Christian Association, which is the place my mom boarded in the 60's before moving to Germany.  Small world.  I've actually been online trying to verify the information is true.  I ended up watching a 30 minute video on the history Houston YWCA.  I'm totally wrapped up turn of the century Houston right now.

      Thankfully, today Kenny was much better and we made a second trip downtown.  This time, a cowboy hat-wearing tour guide walked us around the city and gave us information that spanned why Texas has 6 flags, to where every bit of marble came from to make the 1900's Chase bank that remains completely unchanged today. I found out fun facts about the founding fathers of Houston, information about art around the city, the tunnels that connect 180 building downtown, and we went up to the 60th floor of some building (to be honest, they all kind of run together after awhile) and got a great skyline view. Another great trip - but without the cosmos and fruity drinks and instead of fun Friday night young people, it was more serious tourists.  And I won't lie and tell you it wasn't a little awkward walking around with cowboy hat guide while professionally-clad men in ties and high-heeled women raced around with important work to do.  Despite the desire to tell everyone we passed that we were Houstonians and not just out-of-town guests, we learned a great deal about this big city.  My take-away between both tours is that Houston likes to do things BIG, like the rest of Texas.  I lost count at how many times cowboy guy said, "It's the biggest in ...."  "It's the tallest one in ..."  "It's the only one with ...."  And while I already knew it, Houston is very, very proud of itself.

And after 6 hours of history lessons, I'm pretty proud of it too.

POEM-IN-YOUR-POCKET

          Happy National "Put a Poem-in-your-Pocket" Day! It's a day set aside to carry your favorite poem around and share it with someone.  I spent the past week trying to come up with Poetry-like displays and activities for this event that would amuse 7th and 8th graders.  I'm not so sure this display knocks anyone's socks off, but I had a great time going through favorite poems and displaying them all over the bulletin board.

          So to commemorate this poetic day, I'll leave you with the only poems I have completely memorized from my youth.  Sadly, there aren't many.  You would think that after all the Poetry classes I've taken or taught, that more would have stuck.  But for those who know me, every single one of these poems holds some sweet memory which of course I had to include.

          If you feel so inclined, I'd love to hear any poem from your youth that remains lodged in your memory.  Maybe your 3rd grade teacher made you memorize it.  Maybe you were a 7th grade poet who loved to write about true love.  Maybe you were the moody high school poet who liked to wear black. Or maybe it took going to college and reading Sylvia Plath to get you hooked on a poem.
I don't know your story, but I'd love to hear it.

        Have a wonderful, poetically-inspired weekend!


THUMBSUCKER
Oh, the thumbsuckers thumb
may look wrinkled and wet
and withered and white as snow.
But the taste of the thumb,
is the greatest taste yet.
As only we thumbsuckers would know.
                     - Shel Silverstein

(This is the first poem I ever memorized. I won't share with you how very, very long I was a thumbsucker.)
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TREE HOUSE
A Tree House, a free house
a secret you and me house
A high above the leafy branches
Cozy as can be house.

A street house, a neat house
Be sure and wipe your feet house.
That's not my kind of house at all,
Let's go live in a tree house.
                         - Shel Silverstein

(Another one I memorized early.  I've forgotten how much I loved sitting outside looking at our huge oak tree in the backyard.  I need to share this one with Lydia - she's a kindred spirit.)
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NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold
Her early leaf's a flower
but only so an hour
As leaf subsides to leaf
so Eden sank to grief
As dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.
                      - Robert Frost
(Think:  Ponyboy.)
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SO MUCH DEPENDS

So much
depends
upon
a red wheelbarrow
glazed
with rain water
beside the
white chicken.
                      - William Carlos Williams

(Still don't understand this one but we had a great time discussing it in college.)

Zoo Trip trumps Work and other things about Lanie

 

  I've only been working 5 weeks and I've already taken a day off of work.  It had to be done, though. Today was ZOO field trip day (my 6th time) and I couldn't miss it. This decision to let Lanie trump work may be the reason that my principal decides I"m not the right fit for her school.  We're in talks right now about next year.  I've given the green light that I would like to work at Jackson Intermediate -- but I'm waiting to see if Jackson wants me.  My principal mentioned that she didn't want to have anyone on staff who felt "torn" about being there.  I can't speak for anyone else on the faculty but I have a feeling there may be a lot of mother's who work that may be a little "torn" now and then.  So, we'll see.  I'm actually at peace with either decision, which is nice.

 
   But this post isn't about me cutting class, so-to-speak, but about the annual zoo trip that never seems to change, except maybe the direction of where we walk each year.  What I found really interesting was how clingy Lanie was today.  She wanted me to hold her hand, hold her hand, hold her hand.  A few times I caught myself telling her "you can walk with your friends, okay."  But she was more than happy to just hang out with me and the buddy that was put in our group, a girl named Ellie who I found out was a wanderer.  But poor Ellie, who got her name called on more than anyone else (and bad chaperone me who let her), she really just wanted to slow down and wander the zoo at her own pace.  I was right there with her, but there's something about taking a group of 14 four and five-year-olds around a crowded zoo that makes a teacher focused on "don't touch this,"  and "don't stand up on that," and moving around the park fast to get it all in.  Because I was often bringing up the rear, we'd no more than get to a stop watching the Lemurs or the Meerkats when we'd hear, "Time to move on."  I give credit though to those preschool teachers who are so diligent about safety, because they do love their students, but it doesn't give them much time to enjoy the trip. Of course, with such a big, squirrelly group, there may not be another way.


       The kids didn't recognize all the safety items being thrown at them; they just did their best to keep up and enjoy the day out of school.  And it was worthwhile; they got to see a 4D movie, watch a Sea Lion show, ride the carousal, eat ice cream and the all time best -- ride the green bus.  And I got to witness Lanie in school mode - with school friends and teachers - and any fears I had that she was becoming a "problem student" since she's had to move her monkey and color a few times, are out the window.  She may be a little like her zoo buddy Ellie and wander now and then, but she's fine. She wants to please. She wants to be a listener. She wants to do her best.  But all of these things come a little harder for her, sometimes very hard.  It's that youngest child syndrome.  Yeah, that's it.
But her heart is kind.
So really, can I ask for anything more?

Our Messy Life

     This is the perfect picture to describe our busy life right now.  Some may see this trash-filled car and pity our family and time lost around the dinner table.  Some may see it and nod their heads in agreement that their life is just the same.  For some reason, and this is odd because I would usually be the one to pity this lifestyle, but I'm okay with it.  We had three wintery eat-around-the-table (mostly) months and now we're accepting the daily "who has what, when?" routine and the regular "so what should we eat?"  I think I've said in many posts that I'm not great with big change, but I thrive on little changes (i.e. moving furniture on a whim) and I think as a family we get a lot of energy out of the Spring season.  It really makes that one or two days when we have no plans the entire evening so welcomed and so deserved.

I know I've been a slacker writer but I promise it's not for lack of want.  Time will be my friend, very, very soon.  Until then, a few updates that just haven't made it to a page.

1.  Baseball season for Elijah has had a very tough start.  I mean, really tough.  Sadly, Elijah is so used to his team losing, he's doesn't really mind too much.  Knowing Elijah, maybe that's good.  Maybe?  But, his coach bought everyone on the team a sno-cone after the game last night even though they lost so, for Elijah, that made up for sitting through a 12-2 game.





2.  The girls have their dance recital in 4 1/2 weeks.  Lydia loves going to "jazz class mom, not dance" while Lanie fights getting her tights on.  Why does she complain every Tuesday?  "I don't wanna go to dancing today" only to be all smiles when class is over?

3.  Lydia's birthday is also coming up and we have NO plans.  First she wanted the beach until she thought no one would come all the way down to Galveston. Now she wants to jump on trampolines, or go to Sweet and Sassy, or go horseback riding.  If you know of a place that will a) be super unique and fun b) house at least 15-20 girls or more if siblings are invited and c)be cheap enough for my budget, I'm all ears.

4.  Still Working -- and I Love what I do - creating lesson plans, teaching lessons, and finding books for kids.  I'm also doing what I"m not so great at -- creating display boards, talking to new people (shy, shy), and taking care of overdue books. If only I could take this job and move it within LSA walls.  But it does have its advantages - I bring home the Library Kindle and Lanie (and apparently Radley) get a lot out of it.

5. Kenny has totally stepped up.  He's super dad, and without complaint is helping me try out this new adventure of mine. Thank you, my dear.

The Things You Keep

       Our Garage will never be garage-sale ready, so I always jump at any chance to leech off of others who are opening their driveways up for the early morning Saturday traffic.  And this past weekend was the big sale.  My neighbor across the street volunteered her very clean and empty garage so that I and some other neighbor ladies could throw our stuff in. I always complain about the time the garage sale prep takes, but it wasn't bad, and kind of fun.
     After this garage sale and a few others I've joined, I have learned a few things. They may or may not be universal, but I thought them interesting enough to write down.

#1 - I think my stuff is a lot more worthy than it is.  I over price everything.  Don't the people who buy our old kid toys know what they meant to us?  The answer. No. They don't care that the Fisher Price Farmhouse book with 50 different flaps was Elijah's favorite when he was two-years-old.  But because I care, I make sure the price is a $1.00 and not the 25 cents everyone else seems to think it should be.

#2 - I get a little frenetic when it comes to garage sales.  When I see my items being sold, and money adding up, I want to throw more and more in.  Because we live right across the street, I kept going home and would make a sweep of the house.  I would take the most random items, items that weren't intended for the garage sale, but I just wanted to sell, and throw a sticker on them. It was SO freeing. I had Kenny cleaning out the garage.  We got rid of so many shelves I didn't even know existed.

#3 - I can't bargain.  Not At All.  If someone went down on my price, I would look around for someone else to verify that I should do it.  I was terrible, terrible. My friend who hosted the sale, didn't put a single price tag on her items.  She just asked what the people wanted and usually, she gave it to them for a steal.  We are not the same kind of people.  Whereas she just wanted everything out of her house, I wanted some profit.  I became very, very greedy.

#4 - People want cheap.  Garage sales are not Ebay. They are not Craigslist.  They are certainly not a second-hand store.  This truth doesn't mesh too well with #1 so I did lug home some big money items that only I cared about. Very disappointing.

#5 - You just never know what is going to sell.  Quick story:  When I was in high school, my friend Marnie gave me some Pig slippers.  She had cow slippers. We thought we were very cute.  For some reason it got out that Jen really likes pigs and it became a go-to collector's gift item for me.  Because of  all that gift-giving, I have a box in my garage that is filled with pigs of all kinds:  Stuffed pigs, porcelain pigs, pig earrings, pig shelves, pig trinket boxes, pig paper.  If they sold it with a pig on it in 1989, I probably received it.  I found that box full of dust and put several pig items in our garage sale, and can you believe it - one of the porcelain pigs that was dressed like Santa - sold?  I wanted desperately to follow the guy out to his car and just ask him some questions, like why, and really?Maybe he has an unfortunate friend who is a pig-lover as well.

#6 - I couldn't let go of everything.  This black leather coat was a Christmas gift to Elijah when he was four (I tried to find a picture of him wearing it as a little guy and was not successful.)  It was in the pile of coats I was going to sell.  When I pulled it out, I remembered the moment he opened the package. You'll have to verify mom, but I think you gave it to him as a real coat, but we thought he looked so much like the Fonz that we just cracked up.  It was  adorable.  I couldn't part with it.  So I brought it home and let the girls try it on.  They loved it and really, you just never know when an invitation to a sock-hop may arrive in the mail.  It's back on the coat rack if anyone is looking to dress their lad as a biker.

But I learned something important  ...  Some things you have to keep.

Night and Day

     
     When I first started the stay-at-home gig with a new bundle of joy just home from the hospital, I also had Elijah, at 2 1/2 years-old to entertain.  And since I was fresh off of a busy teaching schedule,  I was under the impression that I needed to be an activities director for him - joining this class and that class, and heading to the children's museum and the library story time and creating stations at home to do art, and play-doh and games. Because I fell for this, we rarely just hung out and relaxed.  I totally missed the whole new mom, only child, sleep- when-the-baby-sleeps phenomenon. I think I would have loved that.  I was always jealous of friends who just took their newborn from restaurant to mall to nail salon because the baby just slept, so easy.  I could have tried for that luxury, actually I did several times, but a toddler doesn't care so much about their mom's desire to be with grown-ups in quiet places.  I luckily had friends in the same stage as I was in, so our big kids hung out while we talked paci's and diaper rash and "crying it out."  This was really nice for me, except this was also the time period when I was incredibly insecure about my parenting (not that I'm super confident now) so I compared advice, and kids, and worried about my approach and every single decision.  Somewhere along the way, I realized that obsessing took up a lot of needless energy.  I have also realized that going to prayer about why Elijah has a temper or why Lanie struggles with potty-training, or why Lydia is so sensitive is a lot more fulfilling than going to everyone else.  Oh, I still talk ad-nauseam about kid issues because that's just what you do when you're life is kind of bent around their little lives, but hopefully now it's more for the humor than for the worry.


         All this to have you jump ahead about 7 years. My two days at home with Lanie are night and day, Night and Day, I tell you, from my life with Elijah and Lydia as a baby.  I can't even believe it.  And that's what these pictures are all about. We're still busy, but this time, Lanie is the activities director. She wants to put on a puppet show - I sit and watch.  She wants to paint - I set up the spot and I watch her spill paint everywhere.  She wants to play whac-a-mole, we sit and she slams the mallet.  We don't just sit.  There are a lot of errands being run as well, and to me, errands are pretty fun with just one kid.   But our time is just a lot of Lanie making decisions while I am along for the ride.  And I will admit, that ride is an  upside down roller coaster for us, not a gentle ferris wheel.  With Lanie, you have to be prepared.  Because with her, there's a surprise loop around every corner of that rickety track.

           God saw to it that life for us wouldn't be without challenges trying to raise 3 unique little people -- because kid 1 is nothing like kid 2 who is a 180 degrees from kid 3.  They are Night and Day.  Night and Day, I tell you.

Invading a Space.

Mrs. Ward's Classroom - 2006

 If I've been silent about the new J-O-B, it's been on purpose.  I actually have written a couple of posts explaining and venting about some of the new things I'm experiencing working at a public school library.  But after reading and re-reading them with the perspective of an employer, I thought best to leave them unpublished in the virtual world. I can send them to you personally if you're really, really interested in my honest perceptions.  Please know, I really do enjoy the job, it's an incredible challenge.  I am walking into a library that has been without a leader since December.  Well, I shouldn't say that.  The Jackson library has remained open with the help of a long term substitute and the retired Jackson librarian for 15 years.  She is actually the first lady I met when I toured the school.  Her advice to me then before I even had the job:  "Make it your own."

And that's really nice to hear.  Except that I am only there 3 days a week and two previous librarians are in and out the doors helping and supporting me, which is very kind.  But it's very difficult to make any changes when the original creators are still there.  When I was at UHCL, this is the mantra that all of our professors shared:  "In your first year, change nothing.  In your second year, change everything.  In your third year, realize your mistakes and change it back."  I love that advice and you don't have to be in a library to use it.  Consider anytime you've taken leadership of something.  Maybe you thought the previous leaders did it "wrong" and you could do it better.  What do you do?  You make tons of changes only to realize that there was probably a reason for those older ideas.  And without sounding like a book of idioms, I just have to be smart enough and not so impulsive that I throw out the baby with the bathwater or the champagne with the cork.  How's that for folksy advice.  

I've been thinking a lot about my time at Lutheran South, or really, about the weeks directly after I left  teaching.  A first-year teacher took my spot, and I thought I was being helpful leaving directions and ideas and my phone number to call me with any questions.  She never did call.  And good for her.  She didn't need my old assignments, my creative ideas, my constantly changing desk positions, or my overused Pachelbel Canon CD.  But I didn't want to say goodbye to it.  I'm the one who had a hard time with someone else moving into my spot, that was completely mine.  I'm the one who had to bundle up nine years of stuff I'd accumulated that represented me and my vocation. That was really hard.  And as I write this, I'm still a little sad about that lost space.  Yes, I chose to leave, but I don't think I ever got over that those years of work are now thrown in bins in the garage.  Except for my smile file.  I kept that out.  All those letters from students or parents or teachers - they are all there to grab and read and remember. 

It all makes sense. I understand the feelings of the previous Jackson Intermediate librarians who gave the space their personalities, who decorated it with their flair, their creativity, and who lead with their own strengths. They have their own smile-files of memories.  

I am that first-year teacher invading their space.  I get it.  And it's not easy.