Defining Moment

What is your favorite color? We are asked that from the time we are little. I have decided that mine is black. Although I have always been drawn to it, I've never claimed it as my favorite, but today I am. For some reason that I have never put into words, I have always felt that it is not supposed to be a favorite color. My art teachers would say black is not a color and, therefore, cannot be chosen as a favorite. Our culture says black is a symbol of death and would, thereby, be gruesome, sorrowful, or a sign of anarchy to choose. My fears say black is darkness and I am afraid of the dark, of what I cannot see or do not know.

Staring at Mary's multicolored butterfly shirt in front of me at church today I realized that black brings clarification; even just a little black. Although stunning in its own right, it does not glorify itself, but rather, defines and highlights the other colors near it. This is also true of sorrow. Although we do not seek sadness in our lives, we must admit that when even a little of it touches us, it can bring clarity. The important things and the simple happinesses of our lives are brightened and defined while the unnecessary clutter fades to the background.

Potential

Never underestimate the power and potential of the human spirit.

This is a quote that I kept on the wall of the resource room when I worked at the high school. I think that it captures the spirit of the struggling students that I taught. They were actually capable of quite a lot, but were usually held back, more than anything, by their own doubts. Because they didn't believe in themselves, their choices were often poor until others eventually lost faith in them also. Like these tightly closed flower buds, they held promise, but had become too afraid of failure to try. Getting past those fears and self-doubts by assuring them of their value, regardless of success or failure, was key in unlocking the potential that each guarded within themself. Nurturing them with skill-building and techniques that complemented their individual learning styles gave them the tools for growing.

Working with kids again, at every level, has brought this concept back to me. It is why I teach, why I keep going back to the classroom, why I am repeatedly drawn to the "difficult" students. I love to see them quietly, tentatively, yet triumphantly bloom as they begin to see their own potential and where they fit into life. It is a priviledge to be even a small part of this awakening.

Joey

This sweet guy has been sick for four and a half weeks, which is exactly how long my stomach has been in knots. He has been to the vet twice and is just about to finish up some antibiotic pills to help his gums and digestive tract, but I am still having to force feed him at least seven times a day. This week he has shown more interest in eating on his own and seems to have less discomfort when the food moves through his digestive tract so I am hoping and praying that he is healing.

Home

There is nothing like Eastern Oregon in the spring. It is the one time that even the Blues are green.

Memorial Day

Playing Around

I did it! Although I am quite sure that I didn't do it the right way, or the easiest way, I did finally accomplish the effect I was after. This is how I spent most of Memorial Day afternoon. Don spent it battling with the a leaky toilet. That is typical for us; Don on a practical mission while I am off in pursuit of some obscure personal, purely aesthetic challenge. His accomplishment is much more useful, but I am still happy with mine.

Crowd Control vs Teaching

Friday I taught in the local middle school, subbing for a Spanish/Science teacher. She does a nice job of planning and preparing so everything went smoothly. Her last class of the day is the hardest because it includes a particular group of seventh graders who are not only completely unmotivated, but are also singularly determined to use their energy to gain control. All of the teachers comment on how difficult they are and they were a challenge for me also. I hate sending kids out of the room to detention or otherwise because it usually doesn't fix things long term, but if I was teaching this group every day, that is the first thing I would do at the beginning of the year to immediately establish a behavioral boundary. It is interesting how different each class of students is and what a difference just one student can make to the dynamics within it. Out of 22 students, only two were real troublemakers. I sent one to the refocus room to work and should have sent the other as well. I always think when I go in that I can handle things better this time and not have to send anyone. As a result, half the class is over before I send them out and that is too long. Next time, I will give one warning to everyone at the start of class and then send them out with the first infraction.

I have to give a lot of credit to the rest of the kids in that class who still manage to work. It was interesting to note that one group in that seventh grade class and one in another eighth grade class had started supporting themselves by sitting together to work and refusing to let others worm their way in by telling them outright that they cause problems by not focusing on the work and being loud. Their peers tried to argue on their own behalf, but all in all, took the criticism well and walked away. Wow. Positive peer pressure in junior high!

Don't Take Too Long

For a person who is quite content lazing around all day, I sure have a short attention span. This week I managed to lengthen my daily treadmill time to 30 minutes. Not a record, I know, but it is progress for me. Bear in mind that I cannot stand to just walk the whole time; I have to change things up every few minutes. I go from walking, to jogging, to walking on an incline, to walking flat again. Even then, if it wasn't for saying the rosary, looking out the window, and reciting Italian phrases with my DVD teacher (Sono stanco!), I would never make it. I should never tease Don again about his need for multiple, simultaneous sources of input (t.v., crosswords, book, & computer). Perhaps it is because I am exercising alone. But then, what would be the excuse for my inability to swish mouthwash for more than 20 seconds instead of the recommended 60?

This was my other accomplishment. After spending a couple hours yesterday and a couple this morning pulling weeds, I got the front beds cleaned out. Now they are ready for me to plant more perennials and a few annuals and then cover with bark. I love these Star-of-Bethlehem flowers. The blossoms close at night and reopen every morning and the plants last for a long time in the spring. Besides that, they remind me of Betty. This is the statue that Betty kept on her "Mary Tree" and I cannot let it rest anywhere except against this big Maple tree of mine. Mary doesn't seem to be happy anywhere else in the yard.

I was in the middle of reaching for a fork someone was handing me so I could eat the burrito I had just built at an outdoor festival booth Larry and Dan had walked me to when the jarring ring of the phone jangled me to reality at 5:55 a.m. Could I fill in today at the middle school? It was hard to think in my daze, but no, not today. I'm sorry.

I hate saying no because I know that those last minute replacements are hardest for them to find, and have always said yes unless Mom or I had an appointment. Not too long ago I even went in after getting a call fifteen minutes before school was supposed to start. These last three weeks, however, I cannot go in at the last minute because Mom is just too afraid to be alone for very long at a time. If I know ahead, then I can make some arrangements with Annie to come in twice a day, but last minute requests are not fair to her. She does this as a favor to us, not because it is her career.

Turning down things I would really like to do is a difficult part of caregiving. Most things I don't mind missing. I love being home all day and it is my greatest wish to be with Mom constantly to help her through this part of her life. I get plenty of support and breaks on the weekends, and until lately, Mom could join me if I went somewhere or would have had plenty to keep her busy if she chose not to. Now that she is having more days when she doesn't have much energy, though, she is feeling more vulnerable and wants me around 24/7. This is completely understandable and I gladly acquiesce, except for those rare occasions when something comes along that would be so simple and harmless for me to do, but the timing or logistics just don't work out. It isn't the fault of anyone and I don't want to feel resentment because someday I will be "free" and sorrier for it. Although I must admit that some of those decision moments are hard to get through without regret, I must also remind myself that saying no will bring me less regret in the long run.

Still, I so would have enjoyed painting a Mario mural yesterday...

What I Did Today

Before:

During:
After:
Whew!

(Couldn't have done it without Zeba.)

Our Neighbor

Meet Oakley; our neighbor across the street. Oakley is a half-grown Great Dane puppy. I glanced outside the other day in time to see him playing with this bucket. Nobody was home and he was on the chain in the backyard while his adopted older brother, Baron, was chained in the front. S-u-u-u-ch a nice day, and no-o-o-bo-o-o-o-dy to play... Oakley's idea was to improvise with his bucket friend. He took the handle in his teeth and, after prancing and jumping around with it until he was tightly wound around the tree, he layed down but kept it in his mouth. I went out and took his picture, then walked over and checked to make sure it wasn't caught on his collar or something. It wasn't. He held perfectly still until I got there, proud of his bucket. He let me check his mouth and take the handle out and unwind him from around the tree, but when I headed back home without playing, he turned back to the bucket for another game.

Swisters

The breaking news this week about Kay Rene is quite amazing.
http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Story?id=7580987&page=1 She graduated in the class ahead of mine and I remember her as being a sweet, funny person. Her mother and brother were quite small in stature and lighter haired than Kay Rene, yet one would never think she had really been switched with another baby. It is hard to believe that when one of the mothers questioned the baby brought to her, the hospital didn't do more to make sure she went home with the right child. Such a mixture of feelings the two women must be going through.

I'm glad that they are taking the stance, or at least Kay Rene is, that they are doubly blessed and are joining the two families, calling themselves swisters. Family is so important, but not just biologically. Family, at its best, goes beyond blood lines to provide mutual support, nurturing, humor, and love to each of its members. When I think of family, I think of a dynamic entity; always growing and changing. My biological family gives me both roots and wings, but the family I adopted when Don and I married join in to provide support and love as well. Now family has further evolved to include our children and the people they choose to be part of their lives.

How hard it must have been for those two mothers to be left wondering all those years. Living with the fear of having lost a part of themselves forever, yet falling in love and feeling fiercely protective of the little ones they had brought home from the hospital. Such a twist of fate.

A Sure Sign of Spring

Look who are back!

Our little hummingbird family showed up a couple weeks ago. I caught sight of one of them buzzing the porch and hovering in front of the picture window until I turned and saw him. Message received, loud and clear! Before the day was done I had two feeders hanging up for them and now that the tree blossoms are dying, they are doubling their intake.

Such fragile and amazing creatures!

A Lighted Candle

We received a call that little Liam is having a rough time so today has been dedicated to him. Liam and his family are in our prayers.

Mothers' Day

We had a nice day today. Father John was funny at church and Bob B. arranged to have fresh carnations handed out to all the women and provided cake, coffee and fruit for a special coffee hour. Afterwards, Don fixed Mom and I breakfast, gave us each a hanging basket of flowers to help lure in the hummingbirds, and then later fixed supper and homemade strawberry ice cream. I gave Mom a Tigereye beaded necklace that will perfectly match the colors she usually wears. The day was pretty low key, which I loved, punctuated by phone calls from our kids, which I loved even more. All in all, a good Mothers' Day.

Being a mom is one of the best things I ever did in my life. It was hard and wonderful at the same time. I thought I was pretty good at it until our kids were grown and gone and I had time to look back at those busy years. I had quit working so that I would have fewer regrets later; I didn't want to miss those first steps and cute antics or have someone else correcting them all day. Sadly, I still found things to regret in the way I mishandled different situations - usually when I was tired. I wish I could redo those things and make them right so that the kids would only have good memories, but they have managed on their own to become good people in spite of my mistakes. I am very proud of them for that.

Mothers' Day is nice, but the everyday contacts are even more important. I hope I can better convey to Mom how much I love and appreciate her, not just for the great Mom she was when raising me, but also for the friendship and love she extends to me now.

From Algebra to Home Ec

I subbed for a really good teacher today. I already knew she was effective from watching junior high kids interact with her; including mine. Sometimes the students I helped in the high school would also tell me how much she had helped them. However, if I had never met her, I would still know after today how excellent she is. Although I appreciated the nicely organized lesson plans, supplies, and references, I was more impressed by how well her routine seemed to empower and fit the needs of the students. Even the troublemakers knew the routine and seemed to appreciate it. Students came into the room, sat in certain groups, knew what was expected, and did their work without complaint. They weren't perfect, but they were productive. What's more, they worked in small groups and actually understood how to do that!

Three of the seven classes were mathematics, and two of these divided the students into two different levels. This was the most effective math teaching format that I have yet to experience. I am wondering if the difference I felt was that she tailored her classes - her teaching - to the needs of the kids rather than making the students conform to her teaching style? Anyway, kudos to Deb! I want to be like you when I grow up.

This Member of the Family

This valiant rig (that’s what we call vehicles in EO) is hereby honored for its years of faithful service to the K-kids. Today it left, yet again, to safely haul another K-kid to the city in pursuit of dreams (or a job). Originally meant to transport D to and from work, it has led a much more noble life of providing freedom and safety to his children. Quickly gaining on its second hundred-thousand miles and sporting new brakes, it rises to the new challenge of fitting into tight parking spots, starting up on the first try, and bringing its charge (and her siblings?) home for regular visits.

Lunch with a Side of Guilt

I got a call yesterday from the middle school asking me to sub every Friday of May. I was pleased because I’ve had a couple weeks off, which was a crucial time for me to stay with Mom and spend time with daughter DL while she was home. However, now that her medications seemed to have stabilized her condition again, I welcomed the chance to step into the classroom, be with the kids, and earn a bit of a paycheck before summer vacation. Once a week was certainly a gentle schedule, too; kind of a compromise.

When Mom asked who called, I gave her the news in a cheerful voice, but her response of “Oh,” was uttered with a dread synonymous with receiving news that a meth lab was being set up next door. She is still afraid of having another seizure and being alone, which is completely understandable. I am also afraid of that (and more). The truth is that Mom won’t be able to anticipate a seizure and press her Lifeline Alert System button like she could for most strokes, heart attacks, and falls. Is it terrible of me, though, to feel like we have to take some reasonable chances once in awhile in order to keep on living? Or is that train of thought self-absorbed and irresponsible? When I answered the phone call I thought it was the former, but now I think it is the latter. *sigh.*

Anyway, Mom took care of it all on her own. After a few minutes of thought she put her phone on “speaker” and it started speed dialing. DL and I listened breathlessly to see who she was calling and why. Was she calling relatives to inform them of my latest form of neglect? “Hello?” a voice answered on the other end.

“Annie?...” Mom was calling the lady who had checked on her every day last year while I was still in college, and proceeded to arrange for her to stop in twice a day again every Friday in May. I had offered to have Annie come in last fall, but Mom refused so I am really proud of her for taking the initiative on her own and arranging this solution.

I am still questioning, though, whether I should be trying to substitute teach when I also want very much to have Mom be with us and to be her caregiver. Arguments on both sides of the question swirl through my mind constantly. What if? What if? What if? *sigh* I hope God has this figured out, because I certainly don’t. Balance. It’s all about balance, isn’t it?

Strands of Thought

I am intrigued with the variety of design that can be created with yarn and knitting needles. On the hat and scarf below I used a seed stitch and a stockinet stitch, created a cable design, and integrated a variegated yarn with one of a solid color. Regardless of the outcome, it is all either knit or purl. No matter how intricate the design, the finished project is still just made up of either knit stitches, purl stitches, or some combination of both. We can complicate this truth by increasing, decreasing, casting on, binding off, crossing stitches over, or changing yarns and needles, but we are essentially still just knitting or purling. See any parallels in life?

I see a few:

It isn’t the flashy accomplishments in life that are important; it’s the nuts and bolts, the knits and purls, my attitudes and actions. What I do in my life, woven with the attitude with which I do it, is what determines the design I leave behind.

Or, how about:

I’ve never had many friends, and most of them are family. However, the friends I have are really good ones; quality is better than quantity. My family and friends are the knits and purls of my life. When life gets tough, they weave their threads of support and the resulting design is unique and beautiful.

Hmmm.

Knit & Purl

Today I finished this knitted hat and scarf set. It is nice to actually complete a project. I have an embarrassing amount of half-done things around the house, and not just in the knitting realm. My plan is to create more sets and give away whatever family doesn't want to Operation Christmas Child. It's nice to have something to do while I watch television - especially when I am not very interested in it - or when I want to spend time in the living room with Mom.

Molehill Miracles

Tonight we are celebrating the return of Mom's hearing - at least to the quality it was before a week ago. The culprit was a sizeable bit of dried blood that had moved up against her eardrum. As soon as the nurse in the walk-in clinic began rinsing out the ear, Mom started noticing a difference. I believe the relief she feels has even overridden her other health worries, which puts her back into a positive frame of mind. And that is something that I will celebrate, as well.

So, life is "good" again and we are reminded to be grateful for little things. Mom is 95 and, although I know we won't have her with us forever, I am thankful for the here and now and for the quality of life she still has. I treasure her tough spirit and sensitivity, both of which she has passed on to our children.
And thank God for
laughter over silly things;
for green hillsides, written words,
and sight enough to see them both;
for the flit of hummingbirds,
the fabric of family,
and Mom hovering in the kitchen doorway
whenever I am in a hurry.
I am glad she is there,
to make me slow down
and appreciate
the little things.