Coming Out of "Hiding"

It’s been about two years since I’ve regularly blogged. I could blame it on several things:

• Getting a new job (teaching third grade at the same school as Ryan--I love it!)
• Coaching track with Ryan and manning the weight room together in the offseason
• Different technology (camera hit by a basketball, phone hard to get pictures off of, have to log out of one account and into another in order to blog)
• Boys getting older and being in more activities (3 in baseball, 2 in basketball, 1 in choir and a running book club)
• Boys getting older and not saying/doing as many cute and/or bloggable things
• Laziness

The boys have asked to read old blog posts a few times lately, and we’ve all died laughing at their little-kid antics. I’ve been struck by the fact that I have forgotten SO much of our day-to-day life! And so, at the boys insistence (“You need to blog more!!”) and for the sake of preserving memories, I’m going to try to chronicle a bit more of our crazy life. Here’s a jumbled blob containing what I want to remember about our life from the past two years (what I can remember of it) and right now:

• Reed had a hard time adjusting to his new school. He and I braved third grade at the same time. It was an adjustment for both of us. He liked his teacher, made friends, and did well, but he still would’ve picked returning to his old school if given the choice. A few months into fourth grade, he finally felt like it was “home.” I knew this when he finally told me (with hidden tears) that it was ok to throw away his old school shirt-- It was a monstrosity - ripped like the Hulk.
• Calvin had a great first year in first grade. He didn’t really play with anyone at recess, but he, in true Calvin style, didn’t care. He said he was friends with a few boys, but they were playing “a stupid zombie game” at recess, and he didn’t want to play, so he just did his own thing. The friendships became tighter somewhere between then and now, and he has tight buddies (who now play basketball instead of stupid zombie games).
• Max has grown up so fast! I honestly don’t remember what he was like last year, and that makes me super sad. This year, and even these last few months, he has grown up in so many ways. He (sort of) ties his own shoes and has started doing big-boy math and reading. He’s all the time making up math problems (Two biscuits plus two biscuits equals four biscuits!) and he’s just started trying to read words (he sounded out “pause” - “paws-ee” from the treadmill in the weight room yesterday morning). He is super ready for kindergarten - and we are ready for him to be with the whole family (and save us almost 40 minutes of driving a day!)
• Coaching track with Ryan has been amazing! The first season is a bit of a blur, but it was crazy, stressful, successful, and usually fun. This season started super stressful, but went so well that I really only have fond memories! It’s been really nice to have a shared passion. We don’t always see eye to eye, but overall it has been really good for our marriage! I feel like we are a real team--more so in our community than even at home! This summer, I even started going to his cross country conditioning sessions and running with some of the girls. Distance running is SO not my thing, but I’ve really enjoyed it and gotten to where I can run much longer than I ever could before!
• We put new flooring in our living room, halls, and one bedroom and have done a few little improvements, but we’re starting to dream about moving--maybe even building--a little closer to work. Just praying and dreaming right now, but it’s fun to imagine the possibilities! The boys like to play a game where we each design (out loud, usually in a car) our dream house or backyard or car. Most recently, we perused Pinterest looking for the ultimate swimming pool. Calvin settled on one in the shape of a foot--with five hot tub toes. There would also be a slide, diving board, sunken trampoline, and nearby fire pit. This is the most realistic dream design we have created to date. Most of the other plans involve robot servants and teleporters.
• Life is great! I feel like I have arrived as a mother! The boys are self sufficient (they put away their own laundry, make their own breakfast, and have even started cooking supper together one night a week), portable (we take them with us to conditioning every day. They happily read or play at the park while we run and take turns looping around to check on them), and fun (they are creative, genuinely funny [sometimes] and so fun to watch in sports)! They are also loud, annoying, and fight like dogs. I oscillate between thinking I have the smartest, most talented, most wonderful young men on the planet and wanting to lock them all in a sound-proof padded room, not caring who emerges alive. Such is motherhood, I suppose...

Back to School

I'm actually typing this post in November, so I have the benefit of knowing the future, but when this picture was taken on the first day of school this year, our family was a mix of excitement and fear.

No, Max didn't take this picture. We figured a selfie was more reliable than a Max-ie.

Reed and Calvin were starting at a new school. I was starting the new job I'd been so hesitant to go for for so many years.  The new teacher orientation and professional development days had been great. So great, in fact, that I'd cried to Ryan on the way home one day that "I love our new life!" But the first day of school is where the rubber meets the road, man. Our boys had been to summer school, but that was with waaaay fewer kids then they'd be with today. As for me, every teacher is pumped about school when there are no kids around. Your lessons go perfectly in your head and your classroom is spotless. But introduce the munchkins into the equation and things can get interesting. And I would be working with shorter munchkins this year! Two years shorter! 

I have to admit, third grade took a month or so to get used to. I mean, the friendly sarcasm that worked so well on ten-year olds went right over the head of my eight-year-olds! But about October, I started to realize that the kids that seemed like tiny babies to me in August had made HUGE changes in behavior AND performance. Let's be honest, I had too. The learning curve is big in third grade - for the students and the new teacher. And the halls seemed to shrink, too. It's late November as I type this and I'm happy to report that all my doubts about making this change have been erased. Yes, I still miss the people I left, but I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be - and I'm lovin' it! 

As for the boys, Calvin has been flourishing this year! Reed's age and personality have made the transition a little harder for him, but he's doing well. He's made new friends and enjoys himself at school. If it ever comes up in conversation, he'll admit that he still wishes he were with his old friends, but it comes up less and less often. 

I remember my first year at my old job. A lot of the pressures were similar. Feeling a little out of place. Being scared that you weren't competent. Having to make everything from scratch. I told Ryan at one point that year that I loved the teaching part, but the minute the kids left the room I felt like I was drowning. Well, I have to say this year I feel a lot like the first-year teacher again - Only this time I have three kids and have to leave by 4:30 to get to the sitter's on time! But, Cross Country season ended a few weeks ago, and our whole family has been riding together. I grade while we talk and for the first time in months I'm feeling a little margin clear up in our lives. And I know from experience, it's just going to keep getting better!

And now, just for the viewing pleasure of the aunts and grandmas, here are the rest of the back-to-school photos we shot. I fully intended to put these up on facebook that night, but life got in the way and I lost the camera (in the console of the car) and didn't discover it until a few weeks ago. 

Summer "Break" So Far

Whew! I'm not sure where our first four weeks of summer went, but they're gone. Here's a peek at what we've been up to:

- Ryan (with help of secretary Tobi) coordinates a first-ever fundraiser for his Cross Country team - a Dash of Color 5K and mile race.

collage and photos by Karen Belcher

photo by ESP (Eric Shrum Photography)

photo by ESP

photo by ESP

photo by ESP

photo by ESP

- Bigguns start summer school at their new district! This requires two trips to town a day - one at 6:45 a.m. Luckily, it still gets good ratings!
- Ryan and Tobi start and coach a club track team, requiring four practices a week, four weekend meets, ordering equipment, begging hurdles off of a high school, lots of paper work, and tons of tracking down teenagers to try to keep everything going!

- Ballplaying four nights a week. Daddy coached Cal's T-ball and Reed's parent pitch teams. Two weeks of rain required an upgrade in our texting plan, due to all the "Is the game cancelled?" conversations.

Thank you, Sherry Long, for taking photos. I've been a major slacker!

- Max tags along to almost every game and practice and we try to keep him happy (which is not easy when every time he tries to race a runner they "beated" him!)
- We babysit our two-year-old niece during her Daddy's work times for a week. I still can't do piggies.
- Two bouts of sickness.
- Minimum of 16 trips to town (20 mn one way) per week
- Trip to Kansas to visit family. A great time by all!

-  Usually-nine-hour drive home from Kansas with frequent pit stops for a child with diarrhea.



Did we overcommit? Probably. But we survived, and, after one more week of ball and track, July looks free and clear!

A Tale of Two Sickies

A bug has swept through our household, illustrating what we already knew -- these kids are like night and day. Consider:

Sickie A:

Is “sick” off and on for three weeks.

Sickie B:

Is “sick” only when they are currently throwing up - or don’t feel like going to summer school (never mind that this happened days before the first physical symptoms). 

Sickie A:

Misses two days of school, has nurse call me to pick him up early another day, and skips several of brother’s T-ball games.

Sickie B:

Misses a day of school and doesn’t understand why he isn’t allowed to play in his T-ball game that night.

Sickie A:

Spends his sick days home laying around moping, reading, not eating, and asking “How much longer will my stomach hurt?” 

Sickie B:

After vomiting and watery diarrhea, rallies and proceeds to don a Batman costume and attack his baby brother with plastic balls. Is unfazed by the series of toot-squirts that follow - other than expressing anger the “I didn’t have ANY warning!” and disappointment that his Wolverine jumpsuit has to go in the washer. 

Sickie A:

Carries a barf bucket with him EVERYwhere he goes for days after his last barf incident, “just in case.”

Sickie B:

Throws up in bed, doesn’t tell a soul, rolls around in it all night, then gets mad when I make him take a shower the next morning.

Bittersweet

Today, I turned in my letter of resignation from a job I have loved for almost twelve years. I've gotten misty-eyed, burst into unexpected tears, and full-on ugly cried several times in the last few weeks thinking that soon, the place I've called home won't be "my school" anymore. I'll be an outsider. I'll be leaving students I've watched grow up since kindergarten. I'll be leaving some of my closest friends. My two oldest boys will be leaving theirs.

We sort of always planned for my stay at my current school to be a temporary one. When I took a job there, I was an early childhood major, dead set on teaching kindergarten, but heading into a year of gangly fifth graders. It was one of the lower paying school districts in the area, so I figured I'd just use the opportunity to get my foot in the door of education, tough out the preteens, then find something "better" the next year. Except I fell in love. With the gangly kids, the school, and the community. It felt like a family, not a job. On my first day on the job, I found creatively-wrapped gift bags from total strangers on my new desk. Later, when I asked for advice on a particular student I heard insights into their lives that told me these kids were really known and cared for by their teachers. And in no time I felt known and cared for, too.

A few years ago, Ryan and I started discussing me looking for a different job. The district where he works made sense for our family in a lot of ways. But every time it came down to making a move, I just couldn't bring myself to go for it. A strong sense of loyalty to my home coupled with fear of the unknown pulled me back. We discussed it every year, and it never felt right. I whined that this was all I knew. I loved it. My friends were there. I felt like I made a difference here. Ryan waited patiently, telling me if I never wanted to leave that was ok. I took comfort in that, but something in the back of my head told me a move was inevitable, just not right for now.

Then something changed this year. On a long car ride with my soon-to-graduate sister, we discussed her own fears about finding a teaching job. She could only see herself at the school of her student teaching, same grade, please. It was all she knew. She loved it. She did a great job there. I told her that she would soon feel just the same about whatever classroom she entered, probably within a short period of time. God would put her where He wanted her and she could be happy anywhere. She might even like it better than what she wanted so badly. She turned my advice around on me. Hadn't I felt a nudge in a different direction for several years and used the same excuses to resist it? Couldn't this new place be just as good? In fact, I already had my foot in this community. I taught Sunday school there. Our kids played baseball there. We stalked their library every summer. I cheered on a batch of 30-some teenagers every Cross Country season.

So, I stepped out in faith, and I went to an interview in the same suit a wore 12 years ago (Let's just pretend it fit the same and I didn't have to fold under the totally unbuttoned pants and pray the zipper didn't slip), more qualified, yet somehow less sure of myself than when I was a fresh-faced idealist. I entered the halls of foreign turf, terrified. I arrived early (brownie points?) and got to witness the 3:00 rush. I got smiles and waves from Sunday school kids, summer reading program kids, T-ball moms, friends of Ryan's, Cross Country runners, and acquaintances I couldn't quite put my finger on. The turf wasn't quite so foreign. Several people chatted me up in the office, easing a little of my tension. Then, I faced a panel of six. Of course I felt intimidated, but I also felt like I got to interact with some really great people. People who wouldn't seem so scary if I got the chance to share the halls with them. And soon, I found out I would. I was thrilled! Excited! And also a little sad.

A few weeks ago, I worked the concession stand at homecoming. I wrapped hot dogs and squeezed cheese and made change alongside former students, teased them about where they learned their math skills, admired them for being so diligent or good with customers or able to figure out the popcorn machine. Then I watched them and other former students march in the homecoming guard - lined up in their uniforms, suits, and prom dresses. All those gangly fifth graders had grown up and turned into fine young men and women. I'm so proud that I was a small part of that. I left misty-eyed, fully expecting an ugly cry on the way home. But then I thought about the kids just a few miles down the road. Kids I'll meet next August. Buck-toothed third-graders who will grow up to be fine young men and women someday. I'll watch them march someday too, their uniforms a different color, but I'll still get misty-eyed thinking that I got to be a small part of their "raising."

So, to my old home; thanks for welcoming a clueless college girl and taking her under your wing.  You are where I really grew up, where I really learned to teach. I'm glad I have a few more months to call your school home, your kids, "mine." It's been a privilege and a joy.

And to my new one; I'm not sure all of the reasons God has led me to you, but I can't wait to see what He has in store for this next chapter of my life.

Sick

Last week I had to take a day off work to stay home with this little guy. 

Sicky-Squiggs with his best pal and constant companion, Ruff Ruff

I had been with students either on the bus or at a school event for 13 hours the day before, so I have to say I wasn't too torn up about it. Not that I want my baby to be sick, but if ever there's a time where a little low grade fever is ok, this would be the it. 

Ryan had put the kids to bed the night before, and he warned me there was a good chance Squiggy would need a day home. He'd been sleepy at church, a little feverish, and didn't eat well. So I e-mailed good sub plans in that night and when my alarm went off at 5 a.m., I did the "mommy test" on his forehead and called in. I may or may not have done a tiny happy dance when I crawled back into bed. Just keepin' it real. 

Reed and Calvin got to ride the bus all the way to school from our house for the first time, so that was exciting. Even more exciting was waving down the bus that doesn't usually stop at our house in my jammies and crazy hair. 

Squig slept until 7:30. When he got up, I wondered if I was staying home for nothing. Though he still looked a little pale and had the "sick eyes," his fever was very low-grade and he seemed happy enough. And his appetite was back - he insisted on a cookie for keeping his diaper dry (our compromise since we stopped rewarding pooping on the potty--our argument, "Mommy and Daddy don't get treats for pooping." But we so should!) 

But after noshing on a cookie, he didn't want much to eat and he mostly wanted to snuggle on the couch. Twist my arm! After one or both of us slept for a while, I decided I needed to accomplish something with my unexpected day off. Thanks to all the recent snow days, there won't be another day off until the end of May! So, I started working on laundry and other chores, but I had a little shadow. He followed me around and made conversation about this and that. 

The convo turned to Mufasa and Simba (we'd recently watched the Lion King) and then we had an argument about weather Simba was a boy or a girl. I decided to prove it to him and put the movie in. He was so happy that he was proven right - Simba IS a girl, Mommy! (Sorry JTT - he's got a point...you do sorta sound girly) When I corrected him, he burst into tears and ran away, heartbroken. So I did a little damage control and consoled him while we talked about voices changing and then just changed the subject. Little Man was fine, but also warm and snuggly, so I decided to sit with him, just until the scary parts were over. Well, the whole movie was so scary that I ended up sleeping through it like a lazy lioness with Cuddle Bumpkin on my lap.  Hakuna matata!

We ended up having a super-relaxing Mommy/Baby bonding day. He wasn't super sick, but he wasn't quite himself either. And after his extra-long (and, for me, extra-productive) nap his fever spiked a little and he said he had a headache, so Ryan went ahead and asked for the next day off just in case. 

How did Daddy's sick day go? Little Simba popped out of bed at the usual time, and was a chipper, talkative, and needy little guy the whole day! Sorry, Mufasa, but Sarabi lucked out this time! 

Playing Dress Up

This week has been American Education Week. Our school had a spirit week to celebrate. Consequently, I've almost been late to school every day but today, when I had a workshop and didn't have to dress up. Don't get me wrong--I love a good excuse to wear jeans or pajama pants, but dress up days are a lot more work when you have three participants to outfit! Especially if you wait to make costumes until the morning of. Or one of the turds participants has an extra-difficult week and has to wear "fancy" shoes one day. (Never mind that the fancy shoes were voluntarily worn on green and gold day, not because they were green or gold, but because it was the dresser-uppers idea himself and he may or may not have misplaced one of his regular shoes.)

Here's a break down of our week:

Monday - Reading can take you places. - Dress as your favorite book character. 

Reed was super excited about his idea (after he got over not being able to dress like Clay, a dragon from the Wings of Fire series)... until he got to school and no one knew who the heck he was but the teachers. He was especially perturbed when someone thought he was Santa!

Calvin was equally pumped about his character: a golden samurai. From what book he hails, I have no idea. I tried really hard to talk him out of the three-year-old, coming-apart-at-the-seams (quite literally) Wolverine muscle suit. But he reasoned that if he wore his new, black GI Joe muscle suit, he would look too much like Batman.  The Batman mask is to give him "things like this" on his head, because apparently all samurais have horns...  I pretty much avoided and/or apologized for him all day. 

Tuesday - Turning back the clock on education. - decade day

My fancy-clothes loathers actually went for 1920s garb when they found out they could wear their "cool dude" fedoras. Reed insisted on having a curly mustache and a monocle. I hear they were all the rage in the 1920s... 

They actually liked their get-up this day (I let them wear tennis shoes, even though it bothered me deeply), but you can't tell in any of the pics. I forgot to take their picture until 5th graders were already coming into my classroom. So, I did what any good mom would do. I made them stop and embarrassed the heck out of them before I hugged them and told them to have a good day! 

Wednesday - Be thankful for a formal education - Wear your best dress clothes. 

This was Grandparent's Day at the school, so we wanted to impress. 

This was not a fan favorite. One person had informed me the night before, "I'm NOT wearing a button shirt," so I didn't try to send him with a noose. Gotta pick your battles with that one. They both wore undershirts so they could pull a Clark Kent at recess.  One even brought spare shoes in his backpack. 

Thursday: You don't have to be a nerd to get a good education! - Dress like a geek. 

Like an idiot, I didn't make those glasses until it was almost time to walk out the door. Like an even bigger idiot, I taught the boys how to talk like Urkel. Already loud voices + (badly impersonated geek x 3) + an enclosed van - adequate time to get to school = full-on obnoxiousness! The only sanity saver was the calculator I let Reed borrow for his pocket. They took turns punching in numbers, fascinated with the results. Then Calvin insisted on borrowing my jumbo classroom calculator, even though it wouldn't fit in his pocket. They played with it after school in lieu of the usual Lego.com games. I guess they really got into character for this day!