On to BIGGER and better things

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!

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!

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

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

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

(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

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!

Full of lots of baking

lots of gaming

some girl talk (real and wireless)

and quite a bit of snuggling

SNOW

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

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

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?

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.

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

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

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

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

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....

.....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.

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]

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".