Andy and Meg

On to BIGGER and better things

2011-06-14T19:07:00.000-07:00

With all of the budget cuts in education, I knew there would be changes coming my way. But, I was not expecting to be moved from my job as a 5th grade special ed teacher to my new position: 18-21 year old special ed teacher. Those are some BIG kids.

I will start this crazy new job at the High School next year. Last week, I popped in my future classroom to see what my kids will be like. I learned quickly that they are exactly like the little tykes I teach now, just supersized. The cool thing is that my teaching will be less focused on ABC's, and more on what adults do during the day to keep themselves busy. And yes, there is cooking and a Wii involved :)

Things I anticipate I will love:

- teaching them how to be adults in the world and prepare them for the day when "the bus stops coming".

- getting to take my group of 8 kids (or should I start calling them adults?) on daily field trips to the store, jobs, parks, and all community resources.

- getting them all YMCA memberships and having some work out sessions with them-since that's what adults do.

- getting them hooked up with jobs in the real world and watching them gain a sense of self worth.

Things I anticipate will take some getting used to:

-zits and B.O. Lots of it.

-getting beat up. (it's okay, I can run really fast if I have to)

-no more V-necks or skirts.

-no cutsie classroom decor. More like college dorm room set up. No biggie. Feel free to donate your twilight posters :)

-bus routes--we'll be using the transit on a daily basis.

I'm always up for a challenge, so this is right up my alley. I just like to teach, I don't really care who I'm teaching. So, as I get a little sad to pack up my apple bulletin boards and my alphabet puzzles, I am pretty psyched to run around with big kids in the real world and see how they (and I) do.

(Here is a totally unrelated pic of me at Fish Camp, Port Angeles, WA, a couple weeks ago. Here, I'm sporting Dad's fleece, and socks with birkenstalks. This is how I plan on dressing for my new job.)

Happy Anniversary, Legs!

2011-05-08T17:53:00.001-07:00

In April I celebrated my 4 year anniversary with running!

I started in 2007 when we were living in Pullman. I was BORED, getting out of shape, and wondering how in the heck I was going to keep my body fit without organized sports. (LOVE sports).

Then I heard of some gals my age running marathons. I never tried running before. Ever. But thought-why not? It's cheap. I'm bored. And girls always look cool in their little racing bibs on race day. I called Heath and said, "hey-let's run a full marathon!". She said, "Cool! Let's do it! How long is a marathon?" And that's how it started.

Since then, I've ran 2 full marathons and 8 half marathons. I am currently training for a full marathon this September. I know - crazy.

Now, I still wouldn't call myself a "runner". And, I definitely do not LOVE running. Do I love tying my shoes before an 18 mile run? Heck no! Do I love putting on my running shorts on a rainy day after a long day at work? Of course not! I run mostly because of how it feels after the run.

I love how it feels to do something good just for me. I like how I feel when I put my clothes on and they fit right. I like that when I get up at 6:00 a.m. and run 4 miles before work, I have this weird type of mental energy that I can't get from coffee. I like the simplicity of running-no gear, no equipment. Just me and the road (and Andy, if I'm lucky).

I know I'm going to keep running because there's no reason I should stop. I know I will keep running because I can get jealous when I see another girl running on the street even though I just finished my own 10 mile run. Psycho, but it happens.

I have runs that are boring, runs that are breathtaking, I have runs with Andy where we talk about life, runs with Heath where we laugh our heads off, runs when I'm sad, runs when I'm mad, runs where I pray, and runs that seem like they never end.

Yep, me and running have come a long way together. A definite love-hate relationship. Either way, it's because of you, running, that I sit and enjoy this icecream sandwhich in

my skinny jeans :)

Meet Henry!

2011-03-20T13:16:00.000-07:00

7 pounds, 10 ounces.

Dark thick hair.

Chubby little cheeks.

Quiet little cry.

Easy to love and hug.

He's my new crush: Henry.

And here's how we got him:

On Friday morning at 4:30 am, Heath called and told me, "it's time! I've been having contractions since 1:30, and am feeling like just like I did with Amelia. It's happening!". So, I jumped out of bed (looking fabulous) and headed straight up to Snohomish. On the drive up, I was hoping I wasn't "too late" and worried that I might miss the birth. Little did I know what lied ahead-24 hours ahead....

Once I got to Snohomish, Amelia was up and at em', getting ready to spend the day with "gamma Tanya". Heath was watching tv, counting through her contractions every 5 minutes. Amelia left soon, and it was just Heath, me, and Grant. Waiting.

Around 9:00 am, we decided we should move this labor along, so I coordinated a jogging and jump jack routine that lasted about 15 minutes. It was more of a laughing hysterically at Heather trying to do these things than the actually exercise, but it was a good distraction. Still, the contractions stayed the same frequency and intensity. It was getting a little tiring to watch, but, don't worry, I was okay. :)

We watched Jersey Shore and read some People mags for about 3 more hours. Still, Heath's contractions didn't change. When she had contractions, we muted the tv, put the mags down, and counted through it with her. After about 25 counts, the tv was unmuted and we resumed our convo about Jessica Simpson's life going down hill.

Then around 1:30 (a wee 12 hours of contractions for Heath), the contractions became more intense, the celeb gossip had come to a lull, and we decided we should get in the car and head to her midwife's home, where we better be havin this baby.

So, the midwife checks Heath, to find that she is 2 1/2 cm dialated. You've got to be kidding me. This labor is going as slow as Kristi Alley's weight loss. Heath is in so much pain, and it doesn't quit. 2:30 rolls around, then 5:00, then 6:00. Heath is silent, exhausted, and her face showed excruciating pain. The midwife checked her again. She was only 3 cm. This is when I cried. I know, such a wuss. The contrations were never ending. I'd spent the last 13 hours staring into her pain-filled face, squeezing her hand, imagining the pain. She told me that counts "3 through 20" were the most painful, so it was during that time that my face mirrored hers. Not because I could feel her pain (I wished I could), but because I know her face (it's just like mine) and I know what every wrinkle meant. Pain. Exhaustion. Sometimes I just felt like she would be in labor for the rest of our life, and that absolutely nothing will ever be as horrible as watching her go through this. Oh ya, that's when I lost it.

From 6:00 pm to 10:00 pm, she continued contractions every 3-5 minutes. Grant and I held her hands while she squeezed and we took turns counting with her. He kissed her all the time, and sometimes she would smile when he did. I was so glad she had him.

At 11:30ish , the midwife checked Heath again. She was still 3 cm. I couldn't believe my ears. All of this pain and no change. Then the midwife asked Heath if she would like her to break her water. Heath didn't hesitate. "Yes. Do it", she said calmly. After that, Heath kind of lit up for a second and had a look on her face that "IT'S GO TIME". And that's exactly what happened.

All of a sudden, Heath turned into the incredible Hulk. With one push, she went from 3 to 6 cm. Another push, 6 to 9 cm. One more push, she was at 10 cm. Grant and I were cheering for her, she was so focused and so determined. No screaming, no yelling. Just totally focused. Three more pushes, and there was Henry.

It was a surprise gender, they didn't know what it was going to be. We were so tired and glad to be finished, it didn't matter what it was - we were just thankful Heath was finished. Both Grant and I agree, it could have been a monkey and we would have said, "great. let's go home".

So, that's my birth story. Henry is absolutely adorable, and Heath is amazing.

I'm so glad I have a new baby to hold and am so happy to be Aunt Meg to this cute little guy.

Slow Mo

2011-02-03T19:18:00.000-08:00

Today I had, what I like to call, a "slow motion" moment.

It's hard to explain, but I'm going to try really hard, because it's important enough that I need to record it somewhere so I never forget it.

Today was a normal Thursday in my classroom. The way I have our schedule arranged, everything is SUPER predictable, very routine. There are never surprise events, or random activities. Everything is super repititive. It's what's best for the kids. As a result, things can get pretty mundane. It's great for the kids who need that kind of structure, but can sometimes drive an adult a little coo coo for cocoa puffs.

But, at around 2:30 during snack and story time, I like to leave a little room in the schedule for me to talk casually with the kids, play with them, whatever. Most of them can handle this, but one of them CANNOT. This kid is very much in his own world. I've had him for 3 years, and I've never been invited in.

For 3 years, he's acted like I'm not even there. He has never looked at me. Never touched me. Never spoken or muttered anything to me. Cried for hours and won't give me the slightest clue what he needs. He never smiles at me. Today, something happened.

During my 'casual time' I walked over to him and sat next to him. I patted him on the back and said hi, and as usual, he completely ignored me.

Then, I put my fingers on his hand, and slowly walked my two fingers up his arm and tickled his neck. He twitched his head.....almost like a laugh. Then I did it again, but just a little faster this time, and I even said, "gitch you, gitch you!". And HE LOOKED AT ME. AND HE SMILED. It was the weirdest looking smile I have ever seen. Teeth everywhere. A totally lopsided smile. It was like time just completely stopped. Then he looked away again.

I tickled him, for the third time now, just to see if I could get another glance. But, no. Oh well. I had it. I was in his world for a only a few seconds, but it was definitely a slow motion moment--one I will never forget. And it was absolutely incredible.

And since I can't post a pic of him for confidentiality reasons, I would love to post another pic of a slow motion event:

This is just another one of those moments that seems frozen in time :)

Resolutions Shmesolutions

2011-01-01T17:25:00.000-08:00

So last night (New Years Eve) we partied with our good friends T and S. Before we showed up, Tim suggested coming prepared with up to 5 "things you want to do" in 2011. Not resolutions, "things you want to do". The difference, I think, is just that they need to be something specific and do-able, rather than vague and kind of unattainable.

After a delicious happy hour at Tutta Bellas, we shared our stuff. As expected, stating my goals infront of 3 other people made me take them quite seriously.

So, here are 5 things I want to do in 2011 (I know, your just dying to know, right?):

1. Train for a marathon by myself (never been done). Kinda scares me just thinking about it.

2. Speak up. If some one is being mean to me, just one time, I want to tell them that I think they are being mean to me (Also, never really been done as an adult). This could be anyone. A co-worker, Andy, or maybe even YOU! So, watch out!! Kidding. On a more serious note, I'm not saying I am constantly getting bullied or asking for pitty. Definitly not. I just think sometimes I ignore a lot of things, let it bottle up inside me, then completely blow up or have a cry fest over something really small. So, I guess I just want to be more assertive and hold less resentment. Easy, right?

3. Love my body. I want to love the skinny parts, the chunky parts, all of it. I'm sick of trying to change things. I look good and I work hard, so I need to like what I have.

4. Go fishing with dad. If there was one 225 pounder out there, there is bound to be another one...maybe even bigger :)

5. Let it go. Let go of a hard day at work. Let go of trying to be better than other people. Let go of cleaning the stupid stains off the bathroom floor (they will never come out). Let go of trying get ahead. Let go of trying to be right.

And there they are!

Note to self

2010-12-22T20:18:00.000-08:00

(Yeah-that's me running into the water. There's just no danty way to get into the ocean).

Andy and I just returned from a super fun trip to Mexico. This is our third time vacationing in this hotspot. We go around the same time each year: mid December. This is an exceptional time to go because 1) I am extremely stressed at work and feeling burned out of the kids and 2) it is totally gross in WA at this time.

Every trip to Cabo just gets better and better. This year, we spent our time doing what we do every time-laying out in the sun, watching our skin turn brown and our stress wrinkles disappear, drinking lots of margaritas, and forgetting that we have any other cares in life. It is absolutely WONDERFUL.

We totally kick back together and just really enjoy having fun together. At one point, we both agreed that the carefree lifestyle made us feel like we were back in the "dating" stage of our relationship. We decided this is because the ONLY decisions we had to make together was where we were going to go to eat, how we were going to dress, and if we were up for dancing or just sitting in the hot tub.

And after 8 days, we start to wonder, why do we stress out so much? Life is so much better when we just keep it simple and enjoy the fun things together.

After the return flight, we came home to a pile of bills, a grocery list, and a schedule full of work. ....OH YA, THAT"S WHY WE STRESS out so much.

I'm kind of starting to wonder: does it really have to be this way? Should we just drop everything and move to Mexico? Andy can play guitar and I will sell jewelery. A perfect plan :)

So, without sounding cheesy, I'd like to make a note for myself to remember: relax and enjoy the day. Throw my hair in a ponytail, go do something fun with Andy, and make a fancy drink--even if it's only Tuesday and I'm sick of my work week. Don't spend 5 days of the week tired and angry, and 2 of the remaining days lazy. That is just no fun. Relax and remember: Cabo 2011 is just months away.......

Self-efficacy

2010-12-04T20:20:00.000-08:00

Every teacher in WA state has to take classes to earn their "Professional Certification" after a certain number of years. It's basically a series of classes and a TON of paperwork.

Before enrolling in the program, I heard horror stories about this program from lots of people. A few teachers have deemed it "the most difficult thing they have ever done in their life". One teacher even told me "I would rather go through child labor without epidural than do Procert". Nice.

I was kind of excited to find out what my perspective would be. Would I find it SUPER difficult, sorta hard, or do-able? It's been 5 years since I've been a student and not a teacher, so I was eager to find out what kind of a student I am.

On the first day of class, I raised my hand to ask a question, and kind of talked my way to an answer. Afterwards, the teacher said a quick one-liner, "Wow-you are one smart cookie, Megan". My face turned red after she said it, and for some reason, it meant THE WORLD to me. I thought to myself, "ya, I'm smart. This will be easy for me!"

Now, I am halfway through the program. It's not so bad. Ever since I internalized the idea that I "might" be smart enough to do this, everything has felt really do-able. It's so funny that it just took one comment from my teacher, and I feel like I can handle anything she gives me.

It really reminds me how important those little gems of reinforcement can be to my own students--and to anyone, really. When someone believes something about you, you start to believe it yourself.

Oh, and another thing that makes my Procert class AWESOME is that my class thinks I look like Giada from Food Network. I think I can see the resemblence. I might be a little more bubbly, though.

It was a great Thanksgiving!

2010-11-27T16:32:00.001-08:00

Full of lots of baking

lots of gaming

some girl talk (real and wireless)

and quite a bit of snuggling

SNOW

2010-11-23T13:48:00.000-08:00

I drove home from school yesterday right as the "Northwest Blizzard" hit Auburn. It was pretty scary, but no match for our Subaru. It handled the ice like nobody's business.

And when I came home, I saw Andy shoveling snow off our driveway, in a particularly perky mood (he got to leave work super early due to snow). And, even better, when I got inside, Andy had the place warm and sparkling. It was almost dreamlike. It was super clean, it was SO warm, the candles were lit (with my favorite new scent, peppermint), the fire was going, and I was one happy camper to be home safe and sound.

Later that night, I got the best news: School is cancelled. To me, hearing that kind of news is right up there with "you can have my pre-pregnancy clothes" or "you got birthday money in the mail". Yeah, it's a big deal.

So, we slept in this morning and made waffles. Then we hiked up to Starbucks and drank pumpkin spice americanos.

And, I've spent the rest of the morning mostly in this position:

Dealing with Disappointment

2010-11-11T19:16:00.000-08:00

Disappointment. I babysat Amelia today, and the look on her face when she realized I was no longer playing hide and seek was the perfect example of it. Whether we are 18 months old or 27 years old, it happens. Whether it's disappointment in yourself, disappointment in your loved ones, or disappointment in your students-it always comes around. So why am I so surprised when the feeling sets in for the hundred thousandth time? And, my biggest question, WHY DO I ALWAYS CARE?

I wish so badly that I could really truly have a "so what?" mentality. I can be a crappy teacher sometimes, so what? I sounded really stupid in my Procert class tonight, who cares? I have a to-do list that never gets completely finished, big deal?

And then, yesterday, one of my favorite teachers at school (who is an elderly woman with the body of an 18 year old-yowzas) told me that on her way to school yesterday morning, her vision instantly went black and she had a small heart attack. Then she teared up a little bit and said, "I'm okay, though. I just get to be alive some more---which is such a good thing!"

After talking with her, it really hit me that I have a lot of things that I get to care about, and a whole lot of things I need to let go of. Screw dissappointment. The source of my disappointment is my pride and my selfishness. What a waste of time.

Life is good, and, like my sweet friend told me, I get to be alive some more :) Even though it's not picture perfect, who cares?

Purple pumpkin or Defeat

2010-10-19T19:42:00.000-07:00

Today I was totally reminded that my job can be so TOUGH. There are problems everyday, just like any other classrooms. And some days I can figure out what the kids need, and give it to them, so that everyone's needs are met and we can all laugh and get along.

Other days, like today, leave me feeling completely incompetent. It all started with the simplest "direction-following" activity that involved students coloring a pumpkin purple instead of orange. For most kids, this would seem strange, but totally do-able.

But, I don't have "most kids". I have the "least kids", actually.

For one particular student, this slight change in the traditional pumpkin color RUINED HIS WORLD. He instantly became so angry that he screamed at the top of his lungs "NOOOOOOOOOO!!" (The thought of his yell sends shivers down my spine). He threw his markers at me and yelled "stupid teacher!"

Now, you might think, "what's the big deal? Just let him color it whatever he wants". And, oh, how I wish I could. BUT, the reason he is in my class is because he must learn to follow directions, even when he doesn't want to. And if I let him choose the color of the pumpkin, I have officially proven that I am inconsistant with my rules and therefore, he can do whatever he pleases. I couldn't confuse him like that. It just wouldn't be fair to him or me.

So, this was a battle I had to choose. And so, it began with name calling, then ripping of the paper, then what I like to call, "tazmanian nightmare", where he runs around the room destroying every and everyone in range. The remainder of the class became extremely over stimulated and stressed out. Everyone was panicing while chased the kid around trying to end the insanity.

And so it ended with me carrying him barrel style like a wild animal-legs kicking and arms flailing, through all of the hallways, kicking and yelling. LOUD. We were passing classrooms of quiet kids and teachers who didn't have to carry their students to the office. My heart was pouding out of my chest and my lips were so tight that they were nonexistant. I was angry, so embarrassed, and wanted to quit.

He sat in the office while I gaurded the doors (he's a runner) until the bus came. He was throwing chairs, kicking everything, and glaring at me. It took everything I had not to glare right back, but instead just turn my head and ignored him. Rough day.

The first thing that I did when I came home was blow up at Andy for the DUMBEST thing. He could tell I was losing it and did the total right thing: left me alone. So, now that I'm alone, I'm writing things out and it seems to be helping.

I can't stop thinking, "should I have let him just color the pumpkin orange?" Was all of this really worth it? The answer is: I have no clue. But I will go to work tomorrow and figure it out.

How much is too much?

2010-10-02T10:45:00.001-07:00

So, like most blogs have stated: Fall is here. And, like most people, I am reminded that this is truly one of the best seasons. Now, let me cut to the chase: decorations.

So, one thing I looked forward to growing up, was coming home from school/church/playing and find that my mom put cute little fallish decorations around the house. Pumpkin candy dishes, plastic scarecrows, fake leaves, spicey candles, and whatever else was 50% off at Joanne's. I LOVED it. I looked forward to it every year.

My next point: Andy is a number one guy because he likes a tidy house-which he is super involved in implementing. Yes, Andy loves a nice, bare, sterile house. I am thankful for that...most of the time. He also kind of winces when I bring home a fake pumpkin to light up a corner of the kitchen. I see it as a cute little addition to brighten up our home and add some fall flare. He sees it as another item that might clutter our house, and, get ready for the worst part, need to be stored in a box for 9 months out of the year. Accumulation is his worst nightmare.

So, I guess what I am wondering is how much is too much? From couples old and young, I would love to know, is it worth the 3 months of fall flare to have to store it in a box and accumulate in your house? Will I come to a point that I hate all of the fall crap because I resent having to pack it around all of my life?

Yes, there are much bigger problems in the world than what to do with my "trick or treat" sign. Just wondered what people's thoughts are on 'accumulation'.

179 more? Yes, please.

2010-09-08T19:41:00.000-07:00

Last year, on the first day of school, I didn't get home from work until 5:00.

Not because I was working on my spelling packets.

Not because I needed to plan for the next day.

But because I had my head in my hands and was bawling my eyes out. The kids seemed, to me, impossible. Too many needs in one room-physically, socially, and of course, academically. Not to mention, a few of them actually scared me quite a bit. Like, "When he gets hungry, I hope he doesn't beat me up" kind of scared. The job seemed too big for my little hands.

Somehow, I learned a little bit, then I learned a little bit more. And, by the end of the year, I knew who needed to learn how to "make friends" by not "pinching and biting", who needed to have some "red truck" time (literally, he got to hold a red truck for 10 minutes), and who needed to run 10 laps outside before every math lesson. And yes, I joined him on several occasions. (Don't worry, I beat him every time).

This year, I was expecting the same tramatic beginning. I came to school equipped with waterproof mascara and ibuprofine.

When I got the students off of the bus, the got their breakfast, and began the morning routine. Without me telling them.

When I began to teach the rules, two of the students were mouthing my words while I said them. (....maybe I went a little overboard on those last year:)

When it was time to do "end of the day jobs" and pack up for the bus, they put their chairs on tehir desks and mosied to the coathanger. Without my help.

The two kids that scared me last year because of their nonstop flailing arms and screaming noises sat quietly while I read "Froggy Goes To School" to them for 20 minutes. Then grunted/pointed for me to read it again.

I won't get my hopes up, here. Tomorrow will be full of suprises. But, today was a great first day of school.

California Dreamin

2010-08-12T13:29:00.001-07:00

Andy and I spent 9 sunny days in beautiful California! The days were hot and fun and included many of my most favorite things.

Our camp was hosted by two great campers:

Rock Sculpture/Kayak King Dean and Chef /Extreme Cliff Jumper Bonnie

Camping with them consists of a strenuous routine of

kayaking
sleeping (I did a lot of this, as you can tell)
chillaxin

rock sculpture building (surprisingly entertaining) with the Smith clan

and getting to spend good quality time with this handsome devil

Oh, and Cliff JUMPING!!!! Easy for Andy, not so easy for me. I have a small fear of heights.

And, as every new skill takes a few steps, here is a session of my Loon Lake Cliff Jumping Trials.

Trial #1

Trail #2

Trial #3 It's really long, so only watch if you are super bored. (Skip to around 2:40-since that's how long it took me to get the guts to to something so extremely scary)

http://www.facebook.com/#!/video/video.php?v=437394538544&ref=mf

Oh, and of course, Andy found it not so difficult.

Easy peasy.

The trip was a blast. From a clam chowder bowl in San Francisco to an In and Out Burger in Placerville, I was filled with good times with my cool California family and sun tanned with that unbeatable California sun. Another great California vaca :)

10 things I love about teaching summer school

2010-07-14T17:27:00.000-07:00

For the summer, I teach 3 and 4 year olds with severe disabilities during the month of July. This is a nice little change for me, as I teach special ed for 8,9,and 10 year olds during the year. This is my 3rd year teaching summer school, and there are a few perks to the gig that I really love. Here are 10 of them:

1. The mystery of the 10 very different, new little brains to try to figure out in 4 weeks.

2. The moment after the first week when I realize, "these kids are HILARIOUS".

3. Kids call me "Miss Megan" and not Mrs. Orr (for some reason, it makes me feel more fun).

4. I get to do fingerplays and sing really cheesy preschool songs (in which I usually make up half the words and my paras/assistants look at me like I'm nuts).

5. BUBBLES OUTSIDE. OH YA.

6. We have "outdoor recreation time and large gross motor time"- 2 separate times during the afternoon where I can work on my tan. Even some of my kids have a pretty good base tan, thanks to my precise outdoor time scheduling.

7. Free choice time when I play blocks, "cars", "zoo", or "house" on the floor with the kids and we crack each other up.

8. Putting kids on the bus at 1:00, home for my run by 1:20.

9. Listening to a kid throw a MONSTER tantrum on the floor for 25 minutes, spit on me, kick me, and knowing I never have to see him again in my life after these 4 weeks.

10. When that same kid asks if he can spend the night at my house because he doesn't want to go home. And I can happily say, "nope. But I will give you a ton of hugs and a big high five when I see you get off the bus tomorrow.". .....for four weeks, that is ;)

Back yard- Garate style

2010-07-05T13:28:00.000-07:00

After a sad goodbye to a fun filled week with the Garates, we were left with one little reminder of them: OUR NEW AND IMPROVED BACK YARD!!

Within a matter of hours, Ben and Sara had completely renovated our back yard. With Ben's precise measurement and Sara's speedy little fingers, we had ourselves a sparkling new backyard hang out. What used to be a "nice place to sit sometimes when it's hot" is now our most favorite place to be any hour of the day.

From this:

TO THIS!!!!

THANK YOU BEN AND SARA! ....and Gwen, Kennedy, and Tito for keeping yourselves busy for 3 1/2 hours on a 10 x 10 square of concrete (and a box). It was really fun to work on this project with all of you. What's next, a third story? Love you guys :)

I am so Special Ed

2010-04-28T19:31:00.000-07:00

How does a kid know that he loves me when he doesn't know his name? He has so many barriers that keep him from understanding what is going on his life. He doesn't know how old he is, or where he lives. He doesn't know to take care of himself. He doesn't know why everyone is telling him to "line up" or "sit down" or "wash your hands". So how does he know me, and know that he loves me?

Today, in the middle of a science lesson (involving the usual "glue the bee on the flower" activity that most of my students have no clue what the meaning is) I walked around the classroom to see how my students were progressing on the activity.

One kid was eating the paper.

One kid was compulsively cutting the paper into small triangles.

One kid was rubbing glue on his cheeks.

One kid had thrown away the activity altogether.

And, one kid looked up at me with his horribly crooked teeth and said, "I love you Mrs. Orr" with his cute little Somolian accent.

I kneeled down and gave him such a tight hug. He patted my back while I hugged him. I taught him that.

His birthday is coming up and he will be 11. Just a hair over 3 feet tall. He doesn't know how to count, say his letter sounds, or draw shapes. But he knows he can love and can give a strong hug. And that makes me melt. Sometimes I wish I could be more like these kids.

4 cups of coffee later....

2010-04-07T17:51:00.001-07:00

.....and I's gots me some spring break jitters. And what is a girl to do with TIME and ENERGY?

Rearrange her furniture and bake, of course!

Check out our new set up in the living room and the pretty bouquet in the dining room. I also posted a pic of the bread I made-and Andy yummin it up. Funny how something that takes 3 and 1/2 hours to make can be devoured in 15 minutes.

Good bread + good book = one happy Andy

It's Hammer Time.

2010-03-24T09:30:00.001-07:00

Yes. Time to Hammer down on something that's long overdue to be hammered. Tis the season of Lent.

So, the traditional purpose of the Season of Lent (for me, at least) is to rid my life of something that I practice daily-in excess-to serve as a memorial reminder of Jesus' life. One year I gave up sugar-not a good one. Another year I gave up "carbs". Last year I did chocolate. You get the picture. Lent was a weight loss goal for me-not exactly representing a time of annual commemoration of the the "Holy week". More of a "let's look smokin hot for spring break" preperation.

This year, I am taking this more seriously. I thought about the forty days that Jesus spent in the desert enduring temptation-yikes. I thought "Woah. Mine better be good". So, for Lent this season, I am ridding myself of judgement. In the process, I have learned that I am an extremely judgemental person. And, like Jesus said, I will be judged as I have judged. Very SCARY.

I judge really dumb things. I judge people I don't even know. I judge really good people. The worst part is, I don't always say it-sometimes I just think it.

Self-denial is a crazy good thing. Judgment is alive in my body and it needs to be cut out.

I feel more prepared than ever this year to honor the memory of Jesus during Holy Week of his Death and Resurrection.

[insert cool Bon Jovi lyric here]

2010-02-21T13:25:00.000-08:00

Okay, so winter 2010 has, so far, been my "summer of 69"-minus the sunshine and babes in neon bikinis.

Andy and I have comfortably sunk into the sweet routine of "work hard, play hard". This month was especially fun because we had some family, the Garates, come visit. We LOVE to have family come and stay with us. We have two luxurious camping air mattresses, an extra bathroom, and blankets galore!

The Garates made every event a fun adventure. We spent Valentines day playing in the city, where we participated in some good old fashion 'discovery learning' at the Pacific Science Center, we ate crazy good Mexican, and nibbled on several unique cupcakes at the Seattle's finest "Cupcake Royale".

Among lots of laughs, baths, and great food, it was an easy weekend full of fun...and about 12 games of Settlers.

I had the last week off of school (I LOVE my job), and spent most of the week running, playing with my sweet neice Amelia, and spying on you on Facebook.

Oh, and to top it all off, WE SAW BON JOVI LAST NIGHT! Since then, any silence in our house has been replaced with "Livin on a Prayer", "Wanted Dead or Alive" and "I'll Be There for You".

R & R (and I'm not talking about the whiskey)

2010-01-08T20:39:00.000-08:00

Life is good for the Orrs up North. December was full of all kinds of treats.

MIKE: 3 days of celebrating a short homecoming for Mike--a friend, a brother, a soldier. We made some fancy meals, talked about his life in Iraq, and reaped the benefits of having such an honest and dear friend.

DEAN AND BONNIE: 4 days of family. Dean and Bonnie came for a great stay that included lots of late night chats, a venision roast dinner, a memorable rope show in in my classroom (Dean has my kids wrapped around his finger....or should I say, around his lasso), a Seattle symphony, and OUR NEW FURNITURE---THANK YOU RACHEL AND BOB!! Our house is full of gems from all of the Orrs. Thanks to everyone for making our house a real home. Now GET UP HERE!!!!!

CHRISTMAS: Our very first Christmas in our new house. We lit candles, made scones, drank coffee, and enjoyed a visit from Heath, Grant, and Amelia.

MEXICO: 8 days of dancing, margaritas, frisbee, fish tacos, dancing, margaritas, sunrises, swimsuits, dancing, margaritas, amigos, australians, dancing and margaritas. We're already saving up for next year.

Told ya! December was full of all kinds of goodies.

Goin pro

2009-11-12T20:18:00.000-08:00

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?

2009-10-16T23:19:00.001-07:00

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...

2009-10-06T19:00:00.000-07:00

...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.

2009-09-26T15:29:00.000-07:00

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!

2009-09-04T19:36:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-08-06T16:44:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-07T22:20:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-26T19:09:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-05-04T22:09:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-09T10:02:00.000-07:00

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

2009-02-16T20:26:00.000-08:00

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

2009-02-08T19:58:00.001-08:00

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)

2009-01-11T15:56:00.000-08:00

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

2009-01-03T21:20:00.000-08:00

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.

Kids dig my mom

2008-12-04T18:04:00.001-08:00

Mom came to my class yesterday and gave the kids a very simple "card making" lesson. It was so fun! She brought all kinds of fun stamps and paper, and did a great little organized lesson. She even brought little gifts for each of them. By the time she left, the kids really felt like were card- making experts, and that mom was their new best friend.

I'm pretty sure none of them have had such a fun teacher as my mom. They were so excited to have her there, and so sad after she left. I was really proud to be the daughter of such a neat, fun person.

Right after crossing the finish line...

2008-12-04T18:00:00.000-08:00

....a really nice photographer took this pic of Andy n me. (Which explains why Andy's face looks a little grey and mine looks a little purple). It was literally seconds after we crossed the finish line. Whew!

FUN!

2008-11-30T16:05:00.000-08:00

What a great weekend! Here are some highlights from our "week of thanks"!:

-cutting and packing venison meat with Heath and Grant

-pheasant hunting with my dad on Thanksgiving morning

-Thanksgiving omelets at Uncle Jim's....and gigantic cinnamon rolls

-WAY too competitive monopoloy and texas hold em

-seeing Gramma Stella, who looks fabulous

-holding my new nephew, Sawyer

-pie at Gramma Pearl's. She made 9 pies!

My mom prepared a delish Thanksgiving meal and, as usual, made it look effortless. We sat around our dining room table, just my parents, gramma, and Heath and Grant, and I was so thankful to have all of them. What a loving family we have been blessed with.

And finally-the grand finale of the really fun weekend-we ran the SEATTLE HALF MARATHON THIS MORNING! It was so fun! Andy and I both chalk this run up to our favorite run of all time. We started and ended at the space needle. The weather was perfect. A nice, cool drizzle. We ran through skyscrapers, through parks, on a major interstate, through a tunnel, along the bay, with about 13,000 other runners. We felt strong and fast. Both of us really enjoyed it ....almost as much as we enjoyed our huge plate of Thanksgiving leftovers when we got home.

A vick-ed good time

2008-11-10T21:43:00.000-08:00

To celebrate Andy's big 2-8, we took Friday off of school, loaded on the Victoria Clipper, and tooted on up to Victoria! It was a 3 day weekend full of walks, runs, coffee, houseboats, IMAX, wine, and our sweet hotel in downtown. It was so neat to just escape for the weekend and kick around in Canada. We kinda want to go back next weekend.

Andy's favorite part was the "leaf covered sidewalks and our hotel high up in the heart of the city, and the cosmopolitan feel of the place". My favorite part was eating out a ton and smoochin on Andy. I was also reminded that Andy is an extremely fast walker, and my big boots are no match for his speed. Don't worry. I still wore them.

Happy Birthday, Andy!

how soon hath time

2008-11-04T10:10:00.000-08:00

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stolen on his wing my eight and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew’th.

Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near,
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu’th.

Yet, be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven;
 
All is: if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Task-Master’s eye.

John Milton, 1631

Octoberfest!

2008-11-03T21:08:00.000-08:00

So, a few weekends ago, Andy and I spent the weekend in Leavenworth to run a half marathon with our friends Emily and Domonic from Pullman, and our new buddy, Katy, from Auburn (who happens to be Domonic's mom!). We also went to participate in all the fun festivities that make up Leavenworth's famous: OCTOBERFEST!

We had a great race! It was a really pretty race that winded through lots of trees and farms. Andy and I broke our tradition of running together, and split up to see just how fast our little legs could go if we ran the whole 13.1 miles as fast as we could. It turned out: Andy is a speedy stud, and I am....completely satisfied with my effort:) We decided that running together is way more fun. I love to talk, and Andy loves to listen (or at least he's really good at looking like it).

Afterwards, we all went to a really fun German restaurant, sang along with the cute old man that played the accordian for us while we ate, and, of course, drank some insanely delish beer.

Diggin the rain today

2008-11-02T21:15:00.001-08:00

It really poured today. Andy and I went to church and listened to an incredible sermon. It was so fun and really inspiring. I love our church!

Afterwards, Andy and I walked down to the Tacoma Art Museum and checked out a "Day of the Dead" festival. It was really neat to check out all of the items and decorations that people would put together to honor their family members! I really liked the cool alters that pay tribute to the life and interests of their loved ones. I thought about mom and dad, and my brother and sisters, and what kind of things would be on their alters. (whoa-not in a morbid way. I just think it would be neat to honor the cool things about them). That would be SO fun to put together all the "stuff" that makes you you!

We walked back a few blocks to our car and were completely drenched (not a good look for me). Tons of leaves were stuck to the road and there was water everywhere. I love it like that. Great sermon, spooky art, and a lot of rain. We are really thankful for our lives and our loved ones today.

hallo-what

2008-11-01T09:36:00.000-07:00

Meg and I dressed up for Halloween, she as a sexy Sarah Palin and me as a runner. We joined T and S, our good friends from Pullman who now live in the city, and attended a stage performance of Bram Stoker's Dracula. All around, a good show, mildly creepy, also funny. When we first entered the theater, at around 7:30, there was a young girl dressed in black who was playing a woodsaw with a violin bow. It produced an eerie, high-pitched wailing sound. The girl saw Meg, recognized her as Sarah Palin, and immediately went into a rendtion of the Star Spangled Banner.

Anyways, after the show, we went back to our place for drinks and popcorn balls, then to our favorite brewery. Throughout the night, Meg received a lot of looks, whistles, laughs, and "heckuva costume, Sarah" remarks from people.

One (strange) woman we encountered complemented Meg on her costume; then she switched gears and said, as if talking to the real Sarah Palin, "Really, let's hope you win the election. We don't want a communist as president." With so many things wrong in a statement like that, all's we could do was laugh.

In closing, if Meg could wear these boots everyday, she would. Too bad Halloween's only once a year.

listless trickle

2008-10-28T14:50:00.000-07:00

Today's been a bland, boring day. I was taught that being bored is a bad thing, and for the most part, it is, so I'm reluctant to use the word and to admit that I'm, well, bored. But I am, so I will.

It's just been one of those "is this all there is?" days, you know, days in which you get up early, go through the routine, commute, work, eat lunch, work a little more, call it a day, then head home so that you can rest up and do it all over again. And through it all, you're totally and irritatingly conscious of the fact that you're locked into a routine existence.

At the end of an "is this all there is?" day (like today) you reflect and slowly realize that life isn't always the torrential drama, or narrative, you'd hoped for. Sometimes it winds up feeling more like a listless trickle.

Today's boredom has been dramatically compounded by the fact that I work with apathetic students, day in, day out. Or maybe it's the fact that I work with apathetic students, day in, day out, that's producing the acute sense of boredom in me. Stinks either way.

It gets a little tiring starring into the same sea of disinterested faces everyday. I show up, eager to talk about something really important, like writing, and they, in turn, can hardly stay awake. Or they text. Or they just stare ahead, as if looking through me. They just don't give a damn, glazed eyes and all. They're just bored, no matter what you do. You could tapdance or blow fire, and they'd just stare. The problem is, they'd rather do anything than write, or even read for that matter. Strange, since this is college...

It's just hard to get through to these people. Don't get me wrong. They're cool kids and we share as many laughs as we can. But as students, they're just totally, unequivocally disinterested.

When you've staken your all on activities like writing and reading, and when you've set out to help others excel at them, and when the others you've set out to assist exhibit disinterestedness and boredom all the time, you can't help but become bored yourself.

Blunt materials dull a sharpened edge. I'm certainly losing my edge, working day in, day out, with something so quietly cancerous and corrosive as apathy.

While it is punctuated by fleeting moments of satisfaction, enjoyment, and enlightenment, teaching is, for the most part, a drag characterized by apathy, on the one hand, and beaucracy, on the other. At least in my field. Which is why I can easily see myself walking away from the profession, permanently. I'm a good, innovative teacher; but if the chance comes along to do something else, anything else, I'll happily take it and say goodbye to all of this.

George Orwell once said that by the time most men hit the age of 30, or thereabouts, they lose all sense of individual ambition. Evenutally, they forget the aspirations and dreams that motivated their youth; in other words, they give up on the idea of one day setting themselves apart from the mass of people in the world by "doing something great." Instead, most people, according to Orwell, slip into quiet, anoymous lives doing whatever they can to get by.

In his words, most people end up succombing to drudgery.

This may sound pessimistic and depressing but really I think it describes a very natural process in which a person gives up on ambition. You start out with ideals but experience eventually bleeds you of those ideals. I certainly feel like I've been bled a little; but at least wisdom always comes with wounds.

Right now, I think more and more about taking walks with Meg, or the next cup of coffee, or watching the leaves change, or last Sunday's sermon at Urban Grace, or planting the vegetable garden we've been wanting for so long, and less and less about my job and the ideals that used to motivate me. This trade off, strangely, is comforting and soothing. Letting go is the surest way to inner peace.

I used to imagine myself living to work. Now I see myself forgetting about ideals and working to live. There's a universe of difference between the two.

dance off

2008-10-27T15:18:00.001-07:00

I began class, this afternoon, by examining this trenchant political analysis, from minimovie, with my students. Buckle up; this'll have you rolling.
CLICK THIS LINK.

a couple of joe sixpacks

2008-10-25T22:27:00.000-07:00

Meg and I are reviving a classic, all american, joe-sixpack past-time. I mean bowling. Not Wii bowling, which has practically entirely replaced the real thing, but bowling bowling, shady lanes, shady characters, cheap beer, cheese sticks, onion rings and all. Meg and I usually head to Secoma Lanes, in Federal Way on Friday or Saturday night. It's a great way to relieve stress, unwind, and work on our game.

We brought Heath and Grant along with us tonight - we all bowled in the low to mid 100s. Meg did especially well, racking up a few more stikes than usual. All in all, the night went well, that is, until Meg got busted by the lane manager for sneaking a six pack of Bud into the alley, in her purse of all places :)

Oh, and Heath's pregnant, by the way. Meg might have mentioned this in a previous post. As you can see in the photo, she looks great. She's really (and unusually) fit, too, cause she still runs consistently each week, even at 5 months pregnant. Go Heath.

passing

2008-10-24T14:06:00.000-07:00

Mike Richard's dad passed away. He died from cancer.

A lot of my family knows Mike, somewhat. He is a dear friend of mine, from college. Mike joined the Army last year and recently shipped out to Germany for continued training, en route to the Middle East. While in Germany he learned of his father's death; the Army granted him ten days of emergency leave to fly home and be with his mother and sisters.

The family buried Michael Sr.'s ashes in a plot in Whitefish, Montana.

Mike's doing well, all things considered. He wrote to me and told me that he is happy that his father no longer has to endure the torment and intense pain of terminal cancer; he also told me that he is even more happy that his dad is "truly in paradise." "Sometimes ," he continued, "I'm almost ecstatic for him."

Nevertheless, Mike has to leave his mother and sisters and return to Germany, tomorrow I think. His separation from them, in dark days like these, is compounded by the fact that he's heading to war in a couple weeks.

Anyways, if you know Mike, please pray for him and his family.

that's a nice pie

2008-10-23T21:24:00.000-07:00

Meg and I make pizza together, from scratch, once a week. I used to make the crust but Meg makes the crust now, from bread flour, olive oil, and yeast. While she's doing that, I chop all of the vegetables and grate the cheese (all in all, it requries about a quarter brick of cheddar, pepperjack, whatever). Every now and then we grill up some barbecued chicken as a topping. We've got our timing down pretty good, so that by the time she finishes her task I've finished mine and, if we've remembered to preheat at the start, we can just pop the pizza into the oven and wait about twenty minutes. This is a cheap, delicious, reasonably healthy meal. A bottle of good red wine really puts it over the top.

FUN!

2008-10-23T20:59:00.000-07:00

A jar, some paint, a sock, and Christmas lights. This was super easy, and so fun. One of these little guys is partially blind, so this was really stimulating for him. I'm so happy to meet kids as excited about Halloween as I am!!

Never Underestimate

2008-10-23T20:47:00.000-07:00

After reading aloud a great kids book, "It looks like Spilt Milk", I poured a glob of white paint on blue paper, folded in half, and opened it up to create a kind of ink blot. Then I directed the kids to write down what they thought the ink blot looked like. No joke, one of my students (from Samalia) insisted that the ink blot, on the right, "looked like George Bush."

doublespeak

2008-10-23T10:55:00.000-07:00

Sarah Palin:

"I know what Americans are going through. Todd and I, heck, are going through that right now even as we speak, which may put me again kind of on the outs of those Washington elite who don't like the idea of just an everyday, working-class American running for such an office."

NBC News:

"The Republican National Convention has spent more than $150,000 at luxury stores like Neiman Marcus and Saks Fifth Avenue to dress Sarah Palin in designer suits."
Politico:
"An additional $4,902.45 was spent for her husband Todd in early September at Atelier, a high-class shopping destination for men."

Connpost.com:

"Gov. Sarah Palin charged the Alaska state government $21,012 worth of airfare for her daughters."
The Associated Press:
"Palin charged 64 one-way and 12 round-trips for her three daughters, as well as hotel rooms. The expenses included a trip Palin took with daughter Bristol to a women's leadership conference in New York for a four night stay at the $707 per night Essex House Hotel."

Connpost.com:

"Gov. Sarah Palin was paid $17,000 in per diem payments for more than 300 nights she slept in her own home."
The New York Times:
"Gov. Sarah Palin’s makeup artist was paid $22,800 for the first two weeks of October."

a good man speaking well

2008-10-21T20:47:00.000-07:00

Meg and I are watching John Adams, a recent HBO miniseries that cleaned up this year at the Emmy's. For those of you who like period dramas, and especially for those of you who want to brush up on early American history, you gotta check this out. The device of narrative, adapted to film, is such a superior way of teaching history, in comparison to the stale, bloodless, bullet points most of us had to regurgitate from textbooks in jr high and high school.

Watching the series through the prism of contemporary politics has been especially interesting. Along with its meticulous attention to detail, its probing analysis of colonial gender roles, and its innovative cinematography, what struck me about John Adams was its representation of the revolutionary politicians of the latter 18th century.

21st century folks are accustomed to marathon multimillion dollar campaigns, secret service squads, and media hype. But before the spectacle of stadium sized Conventions, before the blogosphere, before the advent of 24 hour election coverage, and before $150,000 luxury clothing spending sprees, politicians of days past balanced statesmanship with running the farm, avoiding the pox, or ensuring their children learning proper latin. They were a different breed of politician altogether.

Above all, the revolutionary politicians depicted in John Adams exhibit a sheer command and mastery over language. Their penchant for speaking and for writing - their simple, stern, structured, colonial prose - is a far, far cry from modern-day candidates, who parrot lines their speech writers feed them and who reason in soundbytes.

So passeth a fine thing in this world. Political discourse in this country has fallen from the height of logical argumentation to the dirty depths of name-calling, ad hominems, and fear-mongering.

Here's the thing. Politics is inherently rhetorical; that is, it's a business that revolves around mustering arguments, debating, informing, persuading. In classical times and in Revolutionary times, the idea of a politician was never, ever separated from the idea of a rhetorician. Both activities - that of politicking and that of speaking eloquently - were considered one in the same.

The identification between politicking and speaking eloquently, however, no longer exists. We live in an age in which are presidential candidates focus more on managing their images than on delivering coherent sentences. Just read a Palin or McCain debate transcript, and you'll trip over a tangled mess of disconnected statements, characterized by run-on sentences, fragments, stutterings, worn out catchphrases, errors in diction, as well as a total lack of transition terms.

Such and such were the days of old. So much for men (and women) speaking well. I miss the prosaic politics of old. If you do to, watch John Adams. I guarantee you won't be disappointed.

delish-nutrish

2008-10-21T18:04:00.000-07:00

Okay. Best fall combo: butternut squash soup with cranberry spinach salad.

Every once and a while you create a meal that just makes you feel like a winner. This is one of em. Super filling, super colorful, and, as listed above, DELISH.

my job is the coolest

2008-10-20T19:34:00.001-07:00

I get to work with 9 kids that have severe disabilities. They make my life so fun. I've been teaching them for the past 2 months. I'm learning that we all have quite a bit in common. Each one of them laughs really hard (even when it's not that funny), struggles every day, and are OCD (clinically) when it comes to picking things on their body. JUST LIKE ME! After spending so much time with a group of kids like this, you kind of start to....love them. I'm pretty certain that God has gracefully given me the coolest job ever.

....if you ever want to teach a lesson (could be on anything. really. anything. it's all new to them). Please tell me. You will be welcomed by nine of the most humorous, hyper, forgiving kids you'll ever meet. For example: Heath came in and taught them to identify some plants. They were thrilled. She took them on a nature walk, where they could identify some plants on their own. You would of thought they were in Disney world...and Heath was Mickey Mouse. They loved her, and now, are also in love with sword ferns (thanks, Heath).

da crib

2008-10-20T13:58:00.000-07:00

All my family's down in California. I certainly miss the golden state, especially during the summers. But when fall comes around, up north, I always fall in love with Washington all over again. The persistant sweater weather, the colors, the intermittent showers, the crisp air - it's all just wonderful and beautiful, in a quiet way.

Meg and I live in Auburn, to be exact. Auburn is a strange place. For one, it's polarized. Wealthy white people live on the hills, while the poor live in the valley. There is no in-between. Distinct class lines carve Auburn into bits and create barriers between the well-to-do and the down-and-out.

Second, Auburn's large and sprawled out so there's no unifying sense of community, nor is there a happening downtown main street culture. Actually, most Auburn residents despise the local city leaders for failing to renovate the improve Main Street. The downtown area has no industry, no retail, no fine dining, no theaters, no culture, period. So, with no cultural epicenter to rally around, Auburn is just made up of tons of people living atomistic lives. Auburn's city slogan is "more than you imagined." It's nothing like that. You can figure this place out in a day. Personally, it's less than I imagined. A very good friend of mine, Fred, lived here in Auburn for awhile; he calls Auburn the armpit of Washington. It's certainly a cultural armpit (though, Meg and I are going to see a local production of Bram Stoker's Dracula on Halloween night - I'm really looking forward to that); but at least the area, and especially the surrounding countryside, is pretty and overhwelmingly green. Auburn's also strategically located half-way between Seattle and Snoqualmie Pass. In other words, civilization and nature are equally accessible, depending on what you want to do.

Three, Lakeland Village, the specific part of town Meg and I live in, is very clean and pretty. It's situated on one of Auburn's three hills. We live kitty corner to a town center which has restaurants, a grocery store, coffee shops, a brewery, a movie rental house, and a variety of miscellaneous shops. Across the street is a large park from which you can see Mt. Ranier. There are also lots of interurban trails good for walking and running. All in all, it's probably the nicest place to reside in Auburn. But we're also smack in the middle of suburbia, which means zero diversity (always weird); it also means we're surrounded by a lot of gross, in-your-face, moms-with-plastic-surgery-driving-yellow-H2's-with-rims kind of materialism. The houses are humongous and identical. The individual neighborhoods within Lakeland Hills are virutally indistinguishable from one another. Everyone and everything just kinda looks the same. It's a study in conformity.

Case in point. This morning, I was drinking coffee in Starbucks. In the span of ten minutes three different mothers, outiftted in stilleto heels and blue-tooth headsets, entered the store at different times, each with a daughter. I kid you not, in each case, each daughter was named "Chloe" (I overheard each mom call her respective daughter by name). After that, while walking home, I stopped at a traffic signal. While waiting to cross, I read a notice posted on the traffic pole. It depicted a missing white poodle, can you believe it, named "Chloe." The coincidence, here, sorta represents the suburbian homogeneity that characterizes Lakeland Hills. It reminds me of some lyrics from a song by Malvina Reynolds:

Little boxes on the hillside,

Little boxes made of ticky tacky,

Little boxes on the hillside,

Little boxes all the same.

There's a green one and a pink one

And a blue one and a yellow one,

And they're all made out of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses

All went to the university,

Where they were put in boxes

And they came out all the same,

And there's doctors and lawyers,

And business executives,

And they're all made out of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same.

In spite of the criticisms we could all rehearse of the little spot of land we call home, Meg and I are happy and content, above all, finding happiness in one another and not in our external circumstances.

Anyways, I've attached a brief video tour of Meg and I's place, as well as a few snapshots of the streets directly outside our apartment, for those who live far away :)

mt. si

2008-10-20T09:29:00.000-07:00

Meg and I hiked up Mt. Si last weekend; it was our second time up this particular rock. Mt. Si squats majestically 30 miles east of Seattle, off of interstate 90, along Snoqualmie Pass. While Meg and I aren't too crazy about Auburn, our close proximity to Mt. Si and to the Pass is probably one of the best things about living where we live. Anyways, the hike up Mt. Si is fairly difficult, mainly due to 4 miles worth of steep, steep switchbacks. The air is thin as well. The hike itself wreaks a lot of havoc on your quads, gluts, and hampstrings on the way up, and a lot of havoc on your knees and lower back on the way down. But it hurts so good.

Originally, Meg and I planned on hiking Rattlesnake Ridge, a site we'd discovered a few weeks back on an impromtu hiking excursion, on our way home from Oktoberfest in Leavenworth. But the day was extraordinarily clear and still, and so we decided to hike Mt. Si in hopes of catching a view of Seattle, the Sound, and Mt. Ranier. Our hopes were realized. After about two hours, Meg and I reached the initial peak and had lunch. From our little perch we could see Seattle. We could even see the Space Needle. The cityscape, so distant yet clear, looked like a miniature plaything. Beautiful. Serene. What eagles must feel like, viewing the earth with penetrating clarity and detachment. Anyways, we snapped some of the following pics. The peek in the background is Mt. Ranier. After lunch, I went ahead and scaled the tip of Mt. Si. It involed a somewhat perilous ascent (perilous by my standards anyway) through steep rock, snow, and even some ice. I reached the top after 20 mintues or so (the image at the top of this blog was taken here) and found some moutaineers sitting and starring lackadaisically. One was eating a sandwich, another was praying, or so it seemed, and another was smoking a joint. I sat, reflected on the hike up, and felt sorta like a philosopher. Sometimes things become more clear the higher up you are. It was a wierd intersection between the spatial and the spiritual.

A favorite passage from the writings of Albert Einstein came to mind: "A finely tempered nature longs to escape from his noisy cramped surroundings into the silence of the high mountains where the eye ranges freely through the still pure air and fondly traces out the restful contours apparently built for eternity." The top of Mt. Si certainly felt like eternity. Too bad we had to come down.

"special" art

2008-10-19T19:38:00.000-07:00

Meg and I have taken up painting out of a desire to add some color to our otherwise barren, off-white walls. Actually, "painting" is a generous word for what we really do. Really we just paint a canvas a certain color and then layer different colored stripes on top. "Special ed stuff," as Meg calls it. Nevertheless it produces a decent effect. Here's some of our latest:

the strings still sing

2008-10-19T19:28:00.000-07:00

Been working a little on this bit, in my spare time. I've been playing this particular guitar for a long time, too long perhaps, but at least the strings still sing.

Oh yeah!

2008-10-19T18:46:00.000-07:00

Today, Andy and I are pretty pumped. We woke up to a bright fall day, and had huge bowls of raisin bran. Then, off to our most favorite event: our new church, Urban Grace, in the heart of downtown Tacoma. We've been searching a long time for a church that loves God, loves learning, serves the community, and loves the arts. We found it, and we love it.

After church, we went to my twin sisters place. She is 15 weeks pregnant. So weird. I'm excited for her, but, it so weird to me. It is nutso to watch someone with the EXACT same body as you, change into a shape that you never thought your body could change into. Every time I see her, we scurry into the bathroom to compare the differences in the mirror. It is so fun! She is the most fit pregnant person I've ever seen. She runs 15+ miles every week. What a woman.