Goin pro

Lately in my teaching profession, I've noticed I've hit "bulldozer" mode. I say bulldozer mode, because I have this sense that I'm plowing through a number of obstacles through out my day, without really noticing the severity, the comedy, the seriousness, or the grossness of what I'm actually dealing with.

Take Tuesday, for example. Now, I think it's safe to say that all teachers-no matter what they teach-have several decisions to make during the day, and all kinds of unpredictable events pop up. In all reality, no day is a "typical" day. So, I'm not saying that my Tuesday was any more crazy than any one else's Tuesday. However, it wasn't until I got home that I realized what I had just bulldozed my way through.

I started my class by collecting my student's daily "red folders" that go home each night for parents to peruse my class info. I was pleasantly suprised to open a red folder from my student who had artistically spread poop all over the inside of the folder. I asked him immediately what happened, and he replied, "um. thank me?". These are 3 of 10 words in this little muchkins vocab. So, I was actually just kind of impressed that he spoke. I quickly corrected him "No. it's Thank you". He repeated me, the correct phrase, and was quickly rewarded a smile and pat on the shoulder for his correct usage of the word.

Shortly after, one of my students threw up all over his shirt, but made it to the garbage can for the clean up. Wow! He made it to the garbage can! We all celebrated. There were cheers, hugs, and lots of high fives. I had to quickly stop the high five giving when the blind student joined in. (Kids exchanging excited high-fives to a blind student typically ends in someone getting slapped in the face. We all know from experience.)

Then circle time on the carpet that is my comfy shag rug. All of the big kids know to sit just right as to block my little carpet eater from pulling large pieces of lint and sticking them up his nose or down his throat or in places I don't need to mention here. I am calmed by the grinding sound of one the kids chewing his chewie toy. A contraption that is keeping him from biting the kid next to him. I am so thankful for that chewie toy.

I start singing my "Hello" song, and the students hum along. I sing like I am center stage with a huge smile on my face. I kind of get into it, and they love it. All of a sudden I hear a loud grunt and a shoe is thrown at my head from across the room. One of my student's blocks the shoe with his hand. "WOW! Nice job!" I say. And he smiles. With all three teeth.

So, as I sat down to write this, I was planning on sharing the full day's events. Not necessary. This is just a taste of what I reflected on after a long days work. Like everyone else's job: you just do whatever works. And I think I could "go pro" when it comes to getting that down.

Can you guess which student is mine?

I'll give you a clue: he's looking right at you.

Any kid can sing in a 5th grade musical.....

....But not all kids can do it while holding imaginary binaculars.

I am the luckiest gal to get to work with such cool kids.

In the amount of time it takes to watch two movies...

...we ran a marathon! I know, we're nuts. "Why would you put yourself through that?", you may be asking. We asked ourselves that very question around mile 25. The answer: because we can. Our legs work, our lungs work, we're in our late 20's and...why not?

I don't want to be one of those "runners" that talk about running with a twinkle in their eye like they're the only ones on the planet that have the ability to keep a pace going for more than 20 minutes. The truth is: anyone can do it. You just have to try it.

Back to race day. After 6 months of training, we got up at 5:15 on Sunday morning and laced up for our big run. It was dark outside, and the streets of downtown Portland were packed with runners from all over the country. We met 8,000 other people at the start line. The gun fired, and everyone started moving. It's actually pretty amazing to be running alongside that many people. Then, loud drums filled my ears. A huge band of loud drummers played for us as we ran the first mile, it was pretty incredible. I couldn't hear anything but the drums. I kind of felt like I was in The Lion King, when that huge herd of antelope-or was it caribou?-ran through valleys. It was a pretty incredible experience.

Around mile 8, Andy and I were cruisin, with 18 miles to go. Heath jumped in the race and joined us for 5 miles, which was really fun. She was so excited for us, and was super encouraging by reminding us what an amazing thing we were doing and how great we looked. She really put us in a great mood during, what could have been, the hardest part of the run (the middle).

Then around mile 23 is when we were really aching. This is when we hit the wall. We were totally out of energy, dehydrated, and pretty much every leg and foot muscle was shot. I've never seen Andy's face look so yellow and drained. We were silent-niether of us complained to eachother or tried to chirp a little "we're almost there". It wasn't worth the energy. We both knew how we felt. Of course, we both knew that giving up was not an option, and we would keep running together until the end.

Finally, we crossed the finish line together! We did it! I was so happy for Andy. This was his first marathon, and he was so tough! What a champ! We made great time: 4 hours, 10 minutes.

Afterwards, we were met with our biggest fans: Heath, Grant, and Amelia. They made the trek all the way from Puyallup to watch us run. We spent the afternoon together celebrating and relaxing.

Dr. Laura (from talk radio) says "the only way to increase your self confidence is to do something you thought you could never do". Spot on, Dr. Laura. I feel pretty badass.

uh, yeah...I can handle it.

It's been three weeks since the first day of school. I have eight kids in my classroom. "Easy", I thought, on that first day before the kids came. "I'll just do it, and then at 3:30, it will be over".

I'm learning that I have this strange perception of my ability to handle things. I naively think that I can do pretty much anything. I usually think in relativity to time. It goes a little something like this: "I can handle anything. It might suck for a while, but I'll just do it, and then it will be over." Like when I moved the queen size mattress up our stairs all by myself. I thought, "hmmm. It will be 20 minutes of frustration and using all of my body strength. There will be lots of manuvering, and I might get hurt, but I'll just do it, and then it will be over." Or like when I ran a full marathon, "It will be 4 1/2 hours of moving my body. I will get really tired and sore, but I'll just do it, and then it will be over." And so, it was this weird concept of perseverence that got me reved up and ready to go on the first day. Then the kids showed up.

Without going into too much detail, I will tell you that nothing could have prepared me for what was to come that first day. With my cute tall boots and my favorite pencil skirt, I walked up to the arriving bus to greet the kids as they got off the bus. (Yes, it's the short bus). I was blown away. I saw kids with disabilities so severe that I was actually a little scared of them when they got off of the bus. I was not the only one who was scared...they were also not pleased with what they saw. I was their new teacher, this was a new classroom, and most importantly, it was a transition in their life. And it is transitions that make them most uneasy and unwilling. I will spare most details, but I will mention that there was a lot of biting, scratching, screaming, throw up, poop, and lots and lots of tears. And the worst part was: it was not "over at 3:30". It was not something that I would just "do, and then it will be over". It was my job. Everyday.

The next day came and it was not much different than the first. I kind of wanted to give up and just let them sit in the room all day and do what they want. A daycare. I wouldn't get scratched or bitten, they wouldn't scream and cry. And I'd still get paid the same.

Then by the third day, I was learning. I learned who needed to sit in a certain corner of the room so that sunlight didn't touch them. I learned who needed to chew on something so they could focus. I learned who needed a garbage can next to them for when they had to throw up. I learned who needed classical music, who needed loud, repetitive music, and who needed complete silence. I learned who needed a little back rub and who needed to be completely untouched. I learned that giving up on teaching them is the last thing I could do. And that my job was more than something "to do, and then be done with".

Now we have had three weeks of school. I'm still learning about my kids and they're still learning about me. There is structure and routine, which is something I thought would take months to get. When I say, "circle time" the wheelchairs start turning and the kids slowly start to come over to me, moaning and groaning.

It is not easy, but, I think I can handle it. I really love these kids...even the scary ones.

We're in!

Here are some quick pics of our new place. We have a lot of work to do still, but we LOVE it! Enjoy!!

Coffee Gets Me Pumped About Life...

So two extra cups than usual, and I'm PSYCHED.

• Big Hunk and I celebrated our 3 year anniversary yesterday--Oh ya!

• Dean and Bonnie are visiting this weekend--Oh ya!

• Going on a sweet hike tomorrow--Oh ya!

• Moving into our new house next week--Oh ya!

(....our actual house is actually way nicer than this one here)

• Running our full marathon in 8 weeks--Oh ya!

• Me and my crazy twin turn 26 --Oh ya!
  
  

a great weekend and a new chapter

For the 4th of July weekend, Andy and I packed up our sweet ride and headed down to the Oregon Coast. We camped three nights in Cannon Beach. We were sure to include some of our favorite things in our little excursion: coffee, vino, hotdogs, a small town parade, a long run, a romantic fire on the beach, volleyball, and lots and lots of sun.

When we got home on Monday, we had quite an itch. A house-buyin itch. So, we did some fancy prioritizing, picked out a nice place for a good price, squeezed our eyes tight, and jumped. We made an offer and the offer has been accepted, as of an hour ago.

We learned two important things about us: we are great campers, and can make grown-up decisions, I think.

SASQUATCH

Andy and I packed up our tent, sleeping bags, sweet shades, and beer and headed to the middle of Washington, to the dry, desolate, insanely expansive Columbia River Basin. It was here that we met up with 25,000 other amped concert go-ers. I'm talking about the Sasquatch Festival at the Gorge Ampitheater in the good old town of George, Washington (yep. like the president).

I was pretty pumped to show off one of our states most beautiful venues to Andy--who's been bouncing off the walls for months totally stoked about this HUGE event (literally 15 of his most favorite bands all played at this festival). It was everything we thought it would be. We spent three days listening to more bands than we could count completely. Rocking. Out. I can successfully say that I have learned about lots of cool bands I didn't know about, about the art of hippy dancing, and the craziness that arises when you mix TONS of people, a beautiful place, and LOUD MUSIC. Our favorites included Bon Iver, Fleet Floxes, Santigold, Gogul Bordello (crazy gipsy punk), Mos Def, Animal Collective, M Ward, and the Avett Brothers.

As usual, a great time with great friends, from Pullman and Bellingham. We came home late last night groggy and tanned. Count us in again, for Sasquatch 2010!!!

drum roll, please...

I'm pleased to announce two new additions to our life...

Number One:

Miss Amelia Sue Lane

Number Two:

2009 Honda Fit

...that we can sleep in...

A little epiphany

Andy and me on a hike last weekend in Bellingham, WA

Andy and I have challenged ourselves with yet another bright idea: live for today. Let go. Walk out our apartment door saying, "let's go have some fun!" (that one is a little more practiced by yours truly).

It is finally the first time in our lives that we have quit worrying about the next job, the next degree, the next move, or the next big decision to make. We both have great jobs. Fulfilling jobs. Jobs that produce real, tangible rewards. We have healthy bodies and a fridge full of vegetables and venison. We have a church that makes us work hard to think and love. We have a cozy little apartment that allows us to host a little dinner or leave for a weekend adventure.

In lieu of all this great stuff, we have felt quite a rush. Not like busy, busy, hurry, hurry kind of rush. It's more like the kind of rush you get when you finish a long, hard run and you finally descend into your parking lot and begin to flop your legs into a relaxing walk. It's a mental kind of rush that makes you feel like all of your hard work is kind of starting pay off and you can just slow down and enjoy all that you've worked so hard to get.

This relaxation and talk of "letting go" is a tad easier as I sit here in my jammies, during my spring break, with a giant pot of coffee, on a warm, rainy spring morning. Life is so sweet :0)

(....There are times, however, when "letting go" doesn't seem appropriate. Para example: during an intense tennis match. Let's just say, letting go is not quite at the top of my list...Great game, El and Chris!)

Spreadin the Love

What a night in Seattle! Tim, Sabrina, Andy and I painted the town red, thanks to a love-packed agenda provided by the Hetlands. The eve began with dinner at Barrio, a candle-lit sexy Spanish restaurant that features Seattle's best gourmet tacos. These tastey treats paired perfectly with specialty made fresh rose-bud and strawberry Sangria. I completely understand if a little drool just found it's way to your keyboard.

Next, we walked to a cute cafe that brewed their own fresh roasted coffee. It hit the spot and got us jived up for our next event: a romantic stroll at Kerry Park-where Seattle lit up the sky at one of the best views of city. Now that I know where this really cool spot is, I look forward to taking you there-all Washingtonians should take a gander at this locale. Incredible.

Last (and a little fuzzier in my mind...) we kicked back at Ozzie's on Queen Anne. We Karaoked (sp?) to our little hearts content. Andy, of course, stole the stage with his smooth voice and ca-razy moves. Sabrina also won the hearts of many-a-bar folk when she got down and dirty performing "Shoop".

I don't know if it's the gourmet food, the city lights, or the cheap beer--but nights like that make me think that me and my someone special got some kinda thang. I sure lucked out with this one. Whatta man whatta man whatta man whatta mighty good man.

dance fusion

Meg and I've always enjoyed dancing. Last weekend we met a girl named Jane (friend of a friend, great name too, isn't it?). Jane's a nursing student at UW, a doula on the side, and someone who enjoys salsa dancing. She invited us to the come dancing with her at a club called the Century Ballroom in the heart of Capitol Hill, here in Seattle.

We met up around 8, prefunked for a spell, then drove to the Ballroom, which is situated on 11th St, I think, on the second story of an old building with high ceilings, antiquated staircases, and crown molding. We paid a cover then entered the dim, sweaty ballroom, which was lit by red lights. Every Saturday night at the CB includes a brief introductory lesson on the rudiments of salsa, lasting about 15 - 20 minutes. During the lesson, you learn a handful of basic steps, a few twists, and a few turns. Then the music starts blarring and the floor fills up with all sorts of people, young and old.

The scene, dim, red, sweaty, sensual, loud, and pulsating with the rhythms of Buena Vista Social Club, was also non-threatening. It was easy to meet people and to dance with strangers - young and old, talented and not so talented - because everyone was there, or seemed to be there, primarily to enjoy the dance itself, the experience of salsa.

All in all, Meg and I learned that Salsa is a highly sensual, graceful thing, a real picante art form, one that represents a sort of fusion between two bodies. That's what the best dancers seemed to do, achieve a sprezzetura of rhythmic oneness.

We blundered our way through the first hour but became more and more comfortable with some of the steps and turns as the night worn on. We also watched other people and tried to remember the things we learned dancing with others. We stayed for about three hours and towards the end started getting the hang of things. Meg really brought the sauce; I was proud of her and loved being with her in such a chaotic, exciting place as the Century Ballroom.

Anyways, we plan on heading back to Capitol Hill. Might even become a ritual. It sounds cheasy but we netflixed an intro to salsa disc and are thinking about doing a little practicing at home in the evenings. Our recommendation - find a place to salsa!

"a-giddy-up" -Cosmo Kramer (Sienfeld)

It didn't take long for Andy and me to sink back into our regimented routine of life after all of the Christmas hubbub (that's right. hubbub) was over. I was kind of sad that the long mornings and late nights came to an end. I even complained about how dull things seem after all the traveling and fun things we got to do during the winter break.

Yesterday, Andy and I woke up, ate a huge breakfast and ran 8 miles together. We met our good friends, Tim and Sabrina, in Seattle for a great night of church, authentic Neopolitan pizza (with only the freshest ingredients shipped straight from Italy-wink, wink, T and S), and great conversation over coffee and dessert.

The whole day was a fun and exciting gift--just like Christmas. What a selfish, forgetful, lame-o idea to think that life is dull or that I don't have enough. If I can wake up with my great hubby and get out of a warm bed, it's Christmas. If me, my family or friends aren't sick, poor, or dying today, it's Christmas. I guess it really is a spirit that doesn't end January 1st. Everyday is Christmas.

To CA and Back Again

Andy and I flew back to Washington yesterday afternoon after a freakishly fast winter break. We crammed in so much fun stuff, that explaining everything would be similar to retelling someone a dream...which we all know is only interesting to the person that experienced it. So, I will instead explain some conclusions that Andy and I have arrived at:

First, we have taken a lot of ownership in our role as the aunt and uncle. With our fams combined, we are proud to be the visitors of 20 nieces and nephews. It is so fun to get the giggles, games, and bear hugs from all of our sweeties-and none of the responsibility :)

Second, we have some pretty fun big sisters and brothers that know how to welcome their guests and spoil their family.

Third, San Francisco is the prettiest city in the world. Andy and I spent a couple of days there walking the hills and climbing the steps, and we even got to see a showing of the famous "Beach Blanket Babylon" (Thanks Dean and Bonnie!). And to boot, Bonnie showed me some insane-o thrift stores in some of the city's wealthiest neighborhoods. Lucky jeans for 27 bucks!!

Fourth, a New Years Eve with family, friends, expensive vodka, 4different kinds of popcorn, and hula hooping is just as fun as clubbing till the break of dawn.

Fifth, it is possible to use a trailor closet door and a knee board as sleds. Belfair style.

Sixth, airborn doesn't necessarily prevent colds. But a good run outside can clear your head right up!

Last, we realized how simple Andy and I's life is together and just how much we enjoy that. We have more that we could ask for with our family and friends and all the love that surrounds us.