I need to give credit where credit is very long overdue. I give credit to the 20 beautiful faces that I see each day, to the 20 hugs, and 20 smiles, and 20 silly stories. I give credit to the 20 minds that are open to what I teach, and the 20 hearts that love me even though I am not perfect. So, here's to the 20 children that have stolen my heart and who have it forever.
1. B-I love what a great artist you are and I love that you share your talent with others!
2. A-I love how cheerful you are everyday! I love that you try when it gets scary and hard! Never give that up!
3. K-I love what a wonderful friend you are. You look to the heart of a person, and not their outward appearance.
4. L- I love your enthusiasm for life. I love your beautiful smile...missing teeth and all!
5. J-I love your stories and that you want to share them with everyone! You are so creative and intelligent!
6. R-I love your style! Keep rockin' those pink boots!
7. H-I love your willingness to do whatever I ask. You never complain, even when life gets hard.
8. C-I love how hard you work and how perfect you strive to be, even when you don't feel good!
9. S-I love your hugs! You have such a wonderful, sensitive heart that makes me happy each time I see you!
10. G-I love how you keep everything in order, and how you have the best handwriting I have ever seen!
11. A-I love all of the pictures you have drawn me! My life is more colorful because of you!
12. S-I love that you love science, and that you find enjoyment reading science experiments!
13. X-I love your laugh! Especially the little giggle you give when you realized that you called me mom.
14. A-I love your honesty! You are a great example to me of courage even when it isn't easy to be courageous.
15. N-I love how hard to you try at everything! You work so hard even when things don't come easy!
16. B-I love that you are my little secretary. You help me keep it together. I couldn't do it without you.
17. A-I love how beautiful you are! I love that you aren't afraid to be silly, and that you know when it is time to be silly and when it is time to be serious.
18. S-I love how meticulous you are. You keep everything neat. A person after my own heart!
19. L-I love how unique you are. You are my little Stargirl. Never change!
20. I-I love that you and I can talk about sports! BYU Basketball all the way!
Thank you for teaching me how to love better.
Thank you for teaching me courage in a scary world.
Thank you for making me feel like a cool teacher...even when I feel like I am not.
Thank you for changing my life.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Saturday, December 4, 2010
It's been awhile.
October and November are gone. Thank you. They were tough. Things are looking up though. I feel good, I am happy. Thanks to The Cure for getting me through...but more so lots of prayer.
Friday, September 17, 2010
My New and Improved Paycheck
In the next week or so I will be getting my very first paycheck as a full time, certified, graduated from college, get to work at 7:15 am, hard-working teacher. This will be a big moment for me. I have never earned anything near what I will be getting paid. Now, please don't rain on my parade. I know that many people scoff at the idea of teacher salary, but to someone who doesn't know what that kind of money looks like in their own pocket, this is a big deal. I have been thinking about what to do with some of the "leftovers" that doesn't go to a bill or mortgage. I know my parents would say to save it. And I will. I promise. But I kinda want to buy a few luxuries that I normally forgo due to my lack of funding. Here is what I have been thinking about:
1. Estee Lauder mascara and primer. I am tired of the cheap crap that I have been wearing for the past two years. I have lost some eyelashes because I have been too poor to take care of them properly. My eyes really do deserve better.
2. Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Great Value and Western Family just aren't cuttin' it anymore. I will gladly pay a few more dollars to have the taste and refinement that Kraft offers.
3. Cinemark 16 movies. Bring on the stadium seating! (It was usually a treat for us to go, we felt like kings in thrones.)
4. The Mall. I usually avoid this place. Whenever I have gone in I felt like a poor kid at Christmas looking through the Sears catalog wishing for all the toys. I probably looked like a fool with my nose pressed against the glass doors at Dillards just dreaming about a nice pair of shoes.
5. Not having to put things back at the grocery store. A few of our shopping trips consisted of us making the rounds and then re-tracing our steps to put stuff back that we couldn't afford. It is sort of embarrassing putting stuff back. I am sure that Michael will appreciate not having to add up and count the cost of our mounting grocery bill with every item we put in the cart. But it was a good talent he cultivated and if things get bad in the future we have the survival skill under our belts.
I did learn a lot from being poor. Well, I'm still poor, who are we kidding, but not poor in the sense that we will have to sell some of our clothes to buy groceries poor. I learned a lot of great ways to save money, and I plan on still using those methods. Maybe you can use them too?
1. The Dollar Store is great for buying lunch baggies, garbage bags, tupperware, make-up remover wipes, tin foil, and...pregnancy tests (for those oops times).
2. TJ Maxx and Ross have an impressive selection of home decor, and men's ties, and scrapbook paper.
3. D.I. Just fix it up and it looks like new. Hey, I'm not too proud.
4. One word. IKEA.
5. Ask for essentials for Christmas. I never thought I would have approved of something like that. I used to hate getting things I needed as gifts, but the food-storage has come in handy. (It was a bitter pill to swallow, reality is a pain in the butt.)
6. Go visit your parents. A free meal once in awhile doesn't hurt. (And you thought I was coming over because I wanted to see you...how cute!) Just kidding. I love you Mom and Dad.
I guess I dedicate this post to our parents. Thank you for taking care of me while I was in school. Thank you for not letting us go hungry and friendless. Thank you for teaching us the value of hard work and how far a dollar can really go. Pat yourselves on the back for a job well done. We have almost made it. We're just waiting on Michael now....slowpoke. Again, just kidding. He worked very hard during the worst of it.
1. Estee Lauder mascara and primer. I am tired of the cheap crap that I have been wearing for the past two years. I have lost some eyelashes because I have been too poor to take care of them properly. My eyes really do deserve better.
2. Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Great Value and Western Family just aren't cuttin' it anymore. I will gladly pay a few more dollars to have the taste and refinement that Kraft offers.
3. Cinemark 16 movies. Bring on the stadium seating! (It was usually a treat for us to go, we felt like kings in thrones.)
4. The Mall. I usually avoid this place. Whenever I have gone in I felt like a poor kid at Christmas looking through the Sears catalog wishing for all the toys. I probably looked like a fool with my nose pressed against the glass doors at Dillards just dreaming about a nice pair of shoes.
5. Not having to put things back at the grocery store. A few of our shopping trips consisted of us making the rounds and then re-tracing our steps to put stuff back that we couldn't afford. It is sort of embarrassing putting stuff back. I am sure that Michael will appreciate not having to add up and count the cost of our mounting grocery bill with every item we put in the cart. But it was a good talent he cultivated and if things get bad in the future we have the survival skill under our belts.
I did learn a lot from being poor. Well, I'm still poor, who are we kidding, but not poor in the sense that we will have to sell some of our clothes to buy groceries poor. I learned a lot of great ways to save money, and I plan on still using those methods. Maybe you can use them too?
1. The Dollar Store is great for buying lunch baggies, garbage bags, tupperware, make-up remover wipes, tin foil, and...pregnancy tests (for those oops times).
2. TJ Maxx and Ross have an impressive selection of home decor, and men's ties, and scrapbook paper.
3. D.I. Just fix it up and it looks like new. Hey, I'm not too proud.
4. One word. IKEA.
5. Ask for essentials for Christmas. I never thought I would have approved of something like that. I used to hate getting things I needed as gifts, but the food-storage has come in handy. (It was a bitter pill to swallow, reality is a pain in the butt.)
6. Go visit your parents. A free meal once in awhile doesn't hurt. (And you thought I was coming over because I wanted to see you...how cute!) Just kidding. I love you Mom and Dad.
I guess I dedicate this post to our parents. Thank you for taking care of me while I was in school. Thank you for not letting us go hungry and friendless. Thank you for teaching us the value of hard work and how far a dollar can really go. Pat yourselves on the back for a job well done. We have almost made it. We're just waiting on Michael now....slowpoke. Again, just kidding. He worked very hard during the worst of it.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
I've Crossed Over...
...to the "grown-up" side. Yesterday I called my mom. We talked for 27 minutes and 17 seconds. All the while I kept thinking a strange thought, well, not too strange, but I kept thinking about when my grandma and mom would talk on the phone .I remember just sitting and listening to their conversation wondering what grandma was saying on the other end and only being able to decipher part of the conversation based on what my mom's responses were. I then thought about how I am doing the same thing. I am calling home to talk to mom. I wonder if anyone sits on the other end wondering what we talk about. Probably not though because the boys don't care about that stuff...they just interrupt and ask regardless of the phone. They are lovable though. Anyway, I think calling home is a grown-up thing. I call home for help on W-2's, insurance, how long to boil eggs, what the difference is between salted and unsalted butter and if that really matters, I call to brag about my cooking conquests (which is really just to show my competence because I think home sometimes wonders),and I call to ask about moral dilemmas. These are grown-up things to do. Grown-ups ask their parents. It is the responsible thing to do, and grown-ups are responsible. My kids better call me too.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
It Smells Like 2nd Grade
I haven't felt very witty lately, hence the lack of a blog post in a few weeks. A lot has happened though in these weeks since I talked about how going to the movies stresses me out. I started teaching again. This is my second year teaching second grade. Is that like a golden birthday or something? I spent most of the week leading up to school starting in my classroom preparing things for my new students. It felt good to get my hands and mind busy after a summer of general malaise and lack of productive behavior, except for when I supervised Michael while he painted our guest bedroom and the living room.
Back to school. I have seen these three little words written on a myriad of cardboard advertisements and not so funny Staples and Wal-Mart commercials. For some it probably brings a sense of dread. I on the other hand, revel in the the school supply shopping. Nothing says "Back to School" more than buying a new notebook, backpack, pens, pencils, filler paper, tabs, calculator, etc. It is a regular wonderland for me. I love the colors, the straight lines, and the organization! Anyway...back to school, for real.
Wednesday and Thursday night was sort of a back to school night where I teach. As I was meeting and greeting and all that, I happened to overhear a 6th grade boy walk into the other 2nd grade classroom and say, "it smells like 2nd grade!" What does that even mean? I didn't know that 2nd grade had an odor. I know that 6th grade has an odor, but definitely not my little 2nd graders. I have been mulling this thought over in my mind for about a week or so and today it hit me, literally. Second grade smells like poopy pants and bad breath.
More to come....
Back to school. I have seen these three little words written on a myriad of cardboard advertisements and not so funny Staples and Wal-Mart commercials. For some it probably brings a sense of dread. I on the other hand, revel in the the school supply shopping. Nothing says "Back to School" more than buying a new notebook, backpack, pens, pencils, filler paper, tabs, calculator, etc. It is a regular wonderland for me. I love the colors, the straight lines, and the organization! Anyway...back to school, for real.
Wednesday and Thursday night was sort of a back to school night where I teach. As I was meeting and greeting and all that, I happened to overhear a 6th grade boy walk into the other 2nd grade classroom and say, "it smells like 2nd grade!" What does that even mean? I didn't know that 2nd grade had an odor. I know that 6th grade has an odor, but definitely not my little 2nd graders. I have been mulling this thought over in my mind for about a week or so and today it hit me, literally. Second grade smells like poopy pants and bad breath.
More to come....
Friday, July 23, 2010
Shouldn't This be Fun?
The last few times that I have been to the movie theater I have started to notice a trend...going to the movies stresses me out! Is it my age? Am I slowly progressing towards the "no patience for anyone, or anything" side? I feel like I am going through a puberty of emotions. I don't remember feeling this way when I was younger. Let me explain.
I stress out about tickets. I feel like I have to buy them a day in advance just to be sure. There is nothing that kills the mood more than showing up to a movie only to see that little sticker that says, "SOLD OUT". I hate that sticker. What comes after the sticker is even worse. You stand there like fools trying to decide if you want to see something else, or if you should wait another three hours just to see the next showing...so not only are you wasting the ticket seller's time, but also the large, impatient crowd lined up behind you. Solution: We usually pre-buy our tickets. I have common sense.
Once inside the theater, Michael and I quickly choose our spot. We like the middle with the bar because you can rest your feet on it. So we are usually the first people to arrive at our showing, and pick the best spot accordingly, but there are occasional times where we aren't the first inside. This is fine, the low lights are still on and there is still plenty of seating, so we choose the next best spot for us, and sit down. Not that difficult, except this is where I really start to stress. As the theater starts to fill up, spaces with two and three seats together are hard to come by. I always get the feeling that someone is going to ask me to scoot over to the people next to us that we don't know, so that these late-comers can easily take the seats on the edge. No. I am not having that. I came on time to choose the spot that I want to sit in. If you and your girlfriend want to sit together, come on time! Don't tell me to move over when I made the extra effort to get my seat. What really irks me is that the whole front row is still available, but these morons think they are too good for a neck ache. If you ask me, they deserve to look up the whole movie for not making any effort to come on time. That is what late people should get.
Can you tell that I am very passionate about this subject?
One last thing...don't invite me to see a movie with you if you want me to help save seats. I'm not doing it. I hate all the crusty looks I get when I tell people that the 40 seats around me are saved...and I just hate answering the question, "is this seat taken?" It kills me.
The most enjoyable part of the movie going experience is when the lights go dark and the previews start...because I know that the crowds of idiots looking for seats dwindles down and I don't have to worry about the ulcer forming in my stomach for the next hour and a half.
I stress out about tickets. I feel like I have to buy them a day in advance just to be sure. There is nothing that kills the mood more than showing up to a movie only to see that little sticker that says, "SOLD OUT". I hate that sticker. What comes after the sticker is even worse. You stand there like fools trying to decide if you want to see something else, or if you should wait another three hours just to see the next showing...so not only are you wasting the ticket seller's time, but also the large, impatient crowd lined up behind you. Solution: We usually pre-buy our tickets. I have common sense.
Once inside the theater, Michael and I quickly choose our spot. We like the middle with the bar because you can rest your feet on it. So we are usually the first people to arrive at our showing, and pick the best spot accordingly, but there are occasional times where we aren't the first inside. This is fine, the low lights are still on and there is still plenty of seating, so we choose the next best spot for us, and sit down. Not that difficult, except this is where I really start to stress. As the theater starts to fill up, spaces with two and three seats together are hard to come by. I always get the feeling that someone is going to ask me to scoot over to the people next to us that we don't know, so that these late-comers can easily take the seats on the edge. No. I am not having that. I came on time to choose the spot that I want to sit in. If you and your girlfriend want to sit together, come on time! Don't tell me to move over when I made the extra effort to get my seat. What really irks me is that the whole front row is still available, but these morons think they are too good for a neck ache. If you ask me, they deserve to look up the whole movie for not making any effort to come on time. That is what late people should get.
Can you tell that I am very passionate about this subject?
One last thing...don't invite me to see a movie with you if you want me to help save seats. I'm not doing it. I hate all the crusty looks I get when I tell people that the 40 seats around me are saved...and I just hate answering the question, "is this seat taken?" It kills me.
The most enjoyable part of the movie going experience is when the lights go dark and the previews start...because I know that the crowds of idiots looking for seats dwindles down and I don't have to worry about the ulcer forming in my stomach for the next hour and a half.
I know how this guy feels.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Love Letter and Guys Who Read are Hot!
Last Monday, Michael and I stopped by our friend's house to pick something up. I waited in the car while Michael ran in. As I waited, I noticed that Michael had left his wallet in the car, so I decided to rifle through it for cash, and then anything else of value. No cash, but I did find something of greater value than any amount of money could give me. Tucked away into a hidden pocket of his wallet were some little love notes that I had written Michael before his mission. He had taped them together side by side, and at the bottom was a quote from Pres. Hinckley. "Choose a companion of your own faith, choose a companion you can always honor, you can always respect, one whom will compliment you in your own life, one to whom you can give your entire heart, your entire love, your entire allegiance, your entire loyalty." He carried those letters, and this quote around with him during his mission. It is hard to describe the amount of love I have for Michael. Sometimes I feel so much love for him that I can't help but just grab him and hug him!
Besides being in love with him, he makes me laugh. For the past week or so, Michael has been wanting to read The Hunger Games. Now, I have never in my life known Michael to be a reader. Don't get me wrong, he is very intelligent, but sitting down with a book is not his cup of tea, unless it is a user manual to the latest and greatest electronic gadget, or stereo component. So not wanting to crush his latest request by laughing and saying "are you for real?", we went and purchased the book. When we got home he wanted to read right after dinner, so after he ate, he climbed into bed with his book and started to read. Before I woke up from this dream, I had to take a picture for proof...aren't guys who read just so hot!
Besides being in love with him, he makes me laugh. For the past week or so, Michael has been wanting to read The Hunger Games. Now, I have never in my life known Michael to be a reader. Don't get me wrong, he is very intelligent, but sitting down with a book is not his cup of tea, unless it is a user manual to the latest and greatest electronic gadget, or stereo component. So not wanting to crush his latest request by laughing and saying "are you for real?", we went and purchased the book. When we got home he wanted to read right after dinner, so after he ate, he climbed into bed with his book and started to read. Before I woke up from this dream, I had to take a picture for proof...aren't guys who read just so hot!
Friday, July 9, 2010
OCD
I have been deciding what to write for some time now. It has been hard for me to come up with something intriguing. Sometimes I will be thinking about life before I fall asleep and will mention to myself that I ought to blog about it, except I have forgotten everything that I have thought to write about. I do however have something that I have been thinking about for awhile, not really for a blogging topic, but because of my lack of ideas, it passes.
Recently there has been a slew of television programming about OCD. A&E's Obsessed, VH1's OCD Project, and MTV's True Life: I have OCD. I am not sure why it has garnered so much attention, but it has mine. As I was watching over a period of a few days I started to notice something. Something scary. I was exhibiting obsessive compulsive tendencies in my own life. I started making a mental checklist in my head of everything that I do that qualifies.
Making sure that the computer sits straight on my desk. Check.
Not sitting on the bed after it is made so that it doesn't look wrinkled. Check.
Setting the pillows on the bed and couch so that the zippers are on the bottom. Check.
While these might seem minor in comparison to performing rituals and lock checking, it was obsessive compulsive none the less. I realized that my mind would focus on it until it was fixed. For example, I was walking down the hall the other day and I saw that the blanket on the bed was not even on both sides. I went into the office to do something else, but quickly turned around to fix the blanket. I had to fix it before anything else. It had to be PERFECT.
As I continued to watch these shows I made the choice that I was going to put myself through my own therapy. As these little moments of anxiety over something being out of place would occur, I would tell myself that I wasn't going to fix it, and that it was fine how it was. I did alright. But then I thought...what is so wrong with liking things perfect? I like the way it feels. I feel comfortable with a perfect home. I like how clean feels. I like how organization feels. I like the feeling of living in a showroom. I like straight lines, and minimalism. I like to clean. I like to keep things in perfect condition. I like having control over my environment. Is this bad? No. So you can call me uptight, and neat freak and obsessed. My answer to you? My house looks better than yours.
Recently there has been a slew of television programming about OCD. A&E's Obsessed, VH1's OCD Project, and MTV's True Life: I have OCD. I am not sure why it has garnered so much attention, but it has mine. As I was watching over a period of a few days I started to notice something. Something scary. I was exhibiting obsessive compulsive tendencies in my own life. I started making a mental checklist in my head of everything that I do that qualifies.
Making sure that the computer sits straight on my desk. Check.
Not sitting on the bed after it is made so that it doesn't look wrinkled. Check.
Setting the pillows on the bed and couch so that the zippers are on the bottom. Check.
While these might seem minor in comparison to performing rituals and lock checking, it was obsessive compulsive none the less. I realized that my mind would focus on it until it was fixed. For example, I was walking down the hall the other day and I saw that the blanket on the bed was not even on both sides. I went into the office to do something else, but quickly turned around to fix the blanket. I had to fix it before anything else. It had to be PERFECT.
As I continued to watch these shows I made the choice that I was going to put myself through my own therapy. As these little moments of anxiety over something being out of place would occur, I would tell myself that I wasn't going to fix it, and that it was fine how it was. I did alright. But then I thought...what is so wrong with liking things perfect? I like the way it feels. I feel comfortable with a perfect home. I like how clean feels. I like how organization feels. I like the feeling of living in a showroom. I like straight lines, and minimalism. I like to clean. I like to keep things in perfect condition. I like having control over my environment. Is this bad? No. So you can call me uptight, and neat freak and obsessed. My answer to you? My house looks better than yours.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
I am a Xenophobe...
...have been my whole life. Flashbacks to my childhood confirm the diagnosis.
As a kid, I never liked loud noises. Birthday parties were a nightmare for me when the host parent would announce that we were going to have a balloon popping race. Dread would set in. I hated the surprise of a loud, obnoxious noise that would startle me.
The 4th of July was another stressful time for me as a kid. Fireworks, parade gun shooting, parade canon, etc. I hated them all. I remember getting so paranoid an anxious at the parade before the canon would come. It was so bad that I hid in the Port-a-Potty, or under my dad's chair. Sad right?
Today I even think of the worst case scenario in most situations that I am in. I always look for what is unsafe about the activity before I even think of enjoying it.
Last night I went shooting with Michael. I made him give up his new, high quality pair of shooting earmuffs that he has never used so that the loud noises wouldn't bother me. I wore earplugs first, and then the muffs...and when the shotgun came out, I got into the car...still with the muffs and plugs in.
To this day I won't go to a haunted house simply because I have learned not to cause myself undue stress and anxiety. Yes, I am a bum during the Halloween season, but I just don't see the benefit of paying for someone to startle me to the point of terror and possibly wetting myself.
I asked myself if maybe it was just a fear of loud noises, but really, my fear lies in the unknown. I like having a set plan, I like being safe, I like knowing what to expect. I like things to work out how I plan them. It's too bad that life isn't like that...especially once you get married...to a Rawle boy.
Last night, my sister-in-law Corinne was kind enough to sit in the car with me while the boys were shooting the shotgun. I felt like a tool asking her, seeing as she wasn't really afraid of the loud noise like I was, but she went with me. While sitting in the car, I watched as her husband and my husband shot that gun with huge smiles on their faces. They didn't have a care in the world. Thinking back on being a witness to what I thought then was silliness edging on stupidity makes me realize that had I not experienced those noises, and the guns themselves, I would still be fearing them. Michael has proper gun etiquette, he wouldn't do anything stupid, so why did I need to fear the noise and the weapon so much? I know why. I watch too many crime scene dramas. I need a break.
Back to marrying one of those Rawle boys. Every "dangerous" thing that I have been a part of has been with Michael. I have even been in a few crashes since knowing him...four-wheeler, motorcycle, long board, etc. But I never would have experienced the joy that all of those things brought had I not tried them. I am still here today though, and it is because Michael is careful, not stupid, and looks after himself and me in every situation.
He is the cure to my xenophobia...I just hope he doesn't make me try rock climbing, hang gliding, skiing, snowboarding, sky diving, sailing, horseback riding, downhill mountain biking and anything else that could potentially be dangerous.
As a kid, I never liked loud noises. Birthday parties were a nightmare for me when the host parent would announce that we were going to have a balloon popping race. Dread would set in. I hated the surprise of a loud, obnoxious noise that would startle me.
The 4th of July was another stressful time for me as a kid. Fireworks, parade gun shooting, parade canon, etc. I hated them all. I remember getting so paranoid an anxious at the parade before the canon would come. It was so bad that I hid in the Port-a-Potty, or under my dad's chair. Sad right?
Today I even think of the worst case scenario in most situations that I am in. I always look for what is unsafe about the activity before I even think of enjoying it.
Last night I went shooting with Michael. I made him give up his new, high quality pair of shooting earmuffs that he has never used so that the loud noises wouldn't bother me. I wore earplugs first, and then the muffs...and when the shotgun came out, I got into the car...still with the muffs and plugs in.
To this day I won't go to a haunted house simply because I have learned not to cause myself undue stress and anxiety. Yes, I am a bum during the Halloween season, but I just don't see the benefit of paying for someone to startle me to the point of terror and possibly wetting myself.
I asked myself if maybe it was just a fear of loud noises, but really, my fear lies in the unknown. I like having a set plan, I like being safe, I like knowing what to expect. I like things to work out how I plan them. It's too bad that life isn't like that...especially once you get married...to a Rawle boy.
Last night, my sister-in-law Corinne was kind enough to sit in the car with me while the boys were shooting the shotgun. I felt like a tool asking her, seeing as she wasn't really afraid of the loud noise like I was, but she went with me. While sitting in the car, I watched as her husband and my husband shot that gun with huge smiles on their faces. They didn't have a care in the world. Thinking back on being a witness to what I thought then was silliness edging on stupidity makes me realize that had I not experienced those noises, and the guns themselves, I would still be fearing them. Michael has proper gun etiquette, he wouldn't do anything stupid, so why did I need to fear the noise and the weapon so much? I know why. I watch too many crime scene dramas. I need a break.
Back to marrying one of those Rawle boys. Every "dangerous" thing that I have been a part of has been with Michael. I have even been in a few crashes since knowing him...four-wheeler, motorcycle, long board, etc. But I never would have experienced the joy that all of those things brought had I not tried them. I am still here today though, and it is because Michael is careful, not stupid, and looks after himself and me in every situation.
He is the cure to my xenophobia...I just hope he doesn't make me try rock climbing, hang gliding, skiing, snowboarding, sky diving, sailing, horseback riding, downhill mountain biking and anything else that could potentially be dangerous.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Slowing Down
It is funny to me how I used to be able to blog everyday, and sometimes even twice a day, but now I feel like I have nothing to say. All of my good ideas and funny experiences have been used up. Nothing ever happens to me anymore...no dog + no 2nd grade class + lack of human interaction on a daily basis except for Michael = NO DRAMA and NOTHING TO SAY. I mean I could say lots about Michael...seeing as he is my favorite person in the world, but I know that he doesn't like me to share what makes him the best person I have ever known...except I will let it slip that he is an awesome handyman, and has some pretty good dance moves, i.e. The Macarena, and a little number by NSYNC...I think it is from the song, "Bye, Bye, Bye". You'll have to ask him.On another note, I think that I went into the wrong field of work. Criminal Justice has been starting to sound interesting. I think I could have a career in private investigation...or just spying. Last night Michael and I heard a girl crying out in the grass field...we think it was either a break-up or a mixed family situation...either way, we were up at midnight peeking out our window to try and see what was happening. Michael didn't have the iron will to wait it out to see who it was...but I did, except they moved out of view and I couldn't reach the high window above our bed. Also, there is this show called "Crime 360", and I love it. Check it out.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Go Green! Blah Blah Blah...
I go through cycles in my media viewing. They usually last about a month or so, and then I move on to the next bit of viewing pleasure. Last month was Jane Austen Appreciation Month...before that it was Tribute to BBC...but this month has been Hooked on HGTV. Like how I title my cycles? Since I have been out of school and work for the summer, I decided it was time to tackle all of my projects at home. What better place to start than by watching HGTV? As I started watching some of my shows I began to notice a recurring theme with the programming and commercials...everyone was mentioning how "this" was green design, and "that" was all about going green, and how "these" materials were environment friendly, and blah blah blah. Everything seemed to be oozing "green". Basically... I am tired of hearing it. Can I just watch my design program please and know that when they mention green that they are talking about the color that they are painting the walls? Maybe this post was ignorant...I don't know, but "going green" is making me claustrophobic and wanting to puke green...or maybe spend the green?
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Goodbye
As silly and irrational has this may seem to non-pet owners, it is real to me. Last week we decided that it would be best to give Mischa Boy a better home. We realized that although we could love him and give him all the toys and treats in the world, we couldn't give him the time and free range that he deserved. He was getting rambunctious and playful and he needed room to run and be happy. We didn't want to make life miserable for our neighbor downstairs, who has been more than gracious and patient in putting up with a puppy.
Deep down I knew that giving him away would be best but I couldn't come to terms with giving him up and going through the heartache that it would cause. For a few days my heart and mind were uneasy. I felt unsettled. I didn't want to part ways with something that I loved so much because I didn't want to feel sad. I couldn't bear the thought of Mischa being confused and scared because we were not there.
Once I decided that it was best to give him away, I said lots of prayers that he would go to a good home where they would be loving and understanding. I also prayed that we could find him a home quickly because we were going out of town and I didn't want him to be boarded only to have us then take him somewhere else, but also because I knew I couldn't enjoy my vacation knowing that something so unpleasant awaited me at home.
We posted the add on Wednesday night. Thursday morning we got two phone calls from people that were interested in having him. The first phone call was from a woman that had a backyard and a young family and everything sounded so promising. As it was one of my last days of school, Michael took Mischa to work and dealt with all the phone calls. The woman said that she would stop by his shop later to see him, but that she really wanted him. I was excited, but while at work, Michael got a phone call from a man that said that they had just lost their dog who was very similar in temperament to Mischa and that he wanted him. He stopped by the shop and saw Mischa, he also even invited Michael over for lunch to see his house so that we could approve and trust that he was going somewhere good. I felt so good about this guy and so did Michael, but we had to wait because we gave preference to the first caller. This is where I believe a tender mercy from the Lord comes into play. This woman, although everything sounded really good about her and her situation, I didn't want Mischa to go there, I wanted him to go with this man and his family. It turned out that the woman wasn't able to make it because things kept coming up for her not allowing her to come at the times she had previously said. So Michael told her we were sorry but that we needed to give him away today and that someone else was able to take him.
I was at school this whole time but I knew I wanted to see Mischa one more time. I waited around nervously for and hour or so until the man showed up. When he finally did come, he seemed so nice and was so kind. He told me that he and his family would love Mischa forever. I knew he was going somewhere safe and happy.
I miss him so much, but I know that he is in a place where he is safe and happy and well cared for. I know that Heavenly Father answered my prayers. I know that something so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things was important enough to Him to have Him answer my prayers. I know that Heavenly Father loves all of his creations, big or small, and that He loves me. He made it easier for me to go through something that was heartbreaking and life-changing. I know that I was supported through this hard time. It was a great opportunity for me to strengthen my testimony of prayer. I am grateful for the tender mercies of the Lord.
I miss Mischa, I always will, but I know that he is happy. Goodbye Mischa, thank you for bringing us experiences of learning and happiness.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Some things I enjoyed this week...
A few things have been running through my mind for my next post, but I couldn't choose just one topic, so I thought I would choose them all. So here are those things that I heard, read, or saw this week that made me smile, think, and wonder.
1. This morning I was craving Orange Juice. In my mind was the picture of those cute little Minute Maid pint size cartons that have a little circle at the top for you to push the straw through. On the rare occasion that I actually get a chance to drink those (Del Taco Breakfast, Burger King Breakfast), I decided to tell Michael that I wanted to get OJ at the grocery store today. His response: "Oh, did you want to make breakfast for dinner tonight? You could make those splendid waffles that you made last week." I like hearing that my waffles are splendid.
2. Last night, Michael and I went to Sportsman's Warehouse to spend his birthday gift card. His infatuation of late is his gun, ammo, and anything else associated with his Springfield XD40. As I started to get a little bored watching him dart around the store from the camping section to the ammo section to the whatever section, I decided to go off on my own and explore. I came across a scouting cookbook and decided to take a look. My favorite recipe from this collection: Ticks on a Toilet Seat. I guess that is the only way to get scouts to eat something healthy. Give some lineup of foods a name that evokes eating boogers, blood, scabs, and any jumble of bathroom processes will get scouts--well, boys mainly, hyped up to make and eat dinner. By the way, Ticks on a Toilet Seat is apples cut with a hole in the middle spread with cream cheese and topped with raisins.
3. When we finally made is out of Sportsman's Indecision Warehouse, Michael came away with "Shooter's Electronic Earmuffs". (Oh, when I just called down the hall to find out what they are called exactly, Michael was actually laying on the bed wearing them...I know he is enjoying his purchase.) Last night when we got home, I sat down to watch The Office and he went in the bedroom. I came in later and found him asleep with the earmuffs on. As I got into bed, he removed them and we talked for a few minutes. I asked him if I could start a movie, so back on went the earmuffs and a pillow to cover his face. I wish I had a picture. Just imagine laying next to a guy that directs airplanes with those orange popsicles while wearing those big, almost square looking earmuffs. That was my husband.
4. This morning I woke up early, finished my movie, and then started a book that I bought last year. It is called, Mr. Darcy's Diary. I know, I know, but I couldn't help it. I am a sucker for Regency love stories, and I know there is a lost more than a smattering of Pride and Prejudice spin-offs, but I am open to reading them, and I would like to hear his side of the story. As I was reading it, I started to notice how much I delight in the manner of speech from those times. Phrases like this caught my eye, "He is holidaying here...he is lost to all decency...He has dined here on occasion...etc. Could you imagine if we spoke like that? I wish we did. I think a lot of us would sound so much more intelligent. Say anything in a British accent and you already sound pretty smart. My favorite part of this book so far is Colonel Fitzwilliam's description of Mr. Collins. "He talks endlessly but says nothing." I love that. Do you know anyone that talks endlessly but says nothing? I can think of a few people I have had the displeasure to come in contact with in the confines of Sunday worship.
5. I consider myself a documentary snob. I love to watch documentaries, and I can tell the good from the bad. The other evening Michael flipped to the documentary channel on Netflix and came across Volcanoes of the Deep Sea. Poor excuse for a documentary. I think Michael was trying to prove that it was cool, but I knew it was a wolf in sheep's clothing. I lost interest as soon as it started. Michael fell asleep ten minutes later. Documentaries of note, Expelled, Beauty Academy of Kabul, and Confessions of a Super-Hero. Watch. Enjoy.
1. This morning I was craving Orange Juice. In my mind was the picture of those cute little Minute Maid pint size cartons that have a little circle at the top for you to push the straw through. On the rare occasion that I actually get a chance to drink those (Del Taco Breakfast, Burger King Breakfast), I decided to tell Michael that I wanted to get OJ at the grocery store today. His response: "Oh, did you want to make breakfast for dinner tonight? You could make those splendid waffles that you made last week." I like hearing that my waffles are splendid.
2. Last night, Michael and I went to Sportsman's Warehouse to spend his birthday gift card. His infatuation of late is his gun, ammo, and anything else associated with his Springfield XD40. As I started to get a little bored watching him dart around the store from the camping section to the ammo section to the whatever section, I decided to go off on my own and explore. I came across a scouting cookbook and decided to take a look. My favorite recipe from this collection: Ticks on a Toilet Seat. I guess that is the only way to get scouts to eat something healthy. Give some lineup of foods a name that evokes eating boogers, blood, scabs, and any jumble of bathroom processes will get scouts--well, boys mainly, hyped up to make and eat dinner. By the way, Ticks on a Toilet Seat is apples cut with a hole in the middle spread with cream cheese and topped with raisins.
3. When we finally made is out of Sportsman's Indecision Warehouse, Michael came away with "Shooter's Electronic Earmuffs". (Oh, when I just called down the hall to find out what they are called exactly, Michael was actually laying on the bed wearing them...I know he is enjoying his purchase.) Last night when we got home, I sat down to watch The Office and he went in the bedroom. I came in later and found him asleep with the earmuffs on. As I got into bed, he removed them and we talked for a few minutes. I asked him if I could start a movie, so back on went the earmuffs and a pillow to cover his face. I wish I had a picture. Just imagine laying next to a guy that directs airplanes with those orange popsicles while wearing those big, almost square looking earmuffs. That was my husband.
4. This morning I woke up early, finished my movie, and then started a book that I bought last year. It is called, Mr. Darcy's Diary. I know, I know, but I couldn't help it. I am a sucker for Regency love stories, and I know there is a lost more than a smattering of Pride and Prejudice spin-offs, but I am open to reading them, and I would like to hear his side of the story. As I was reading it, I started to notice how much I delight in the manner of speech from those times. Phrases like this caught my eye, "He is holidaying here...he is lost to all decency...He has dined here on occasion...etc. Could you imagine if we spoke like that? I wish we did. I think a lot of us would sound so much more intelligent. Say anything in a British accent and you already sound pretty smart. My favorite part of this book so far is Colonel Fitzwilliam's description of Mr. Collins. "He talks endlessly but says nothing." I love that. Do you know anyone that talks endlessly but says nothing? I can think of a few people I have had the displeasure to come in contact with in the confines of Sunday worship.
5. I consider myself a documentary snob. I love to watch documentaries, and I can tell the good from the bad. The other evening Michael flipped to the documentary channel on Netflix and came across Volcanoes of the Deep Sea. Poor excuse for a documentary. I think Michael was trying to prove that it was cool, but I knew it was a wolf in sheep's clothing. I lost interest as soon as it started. Michael fell asleep ten minutes later. Documentaries of note, Expelled, Beauty Academy of Kabul, and Confessions of a Super-Hero. Watch. Enjoy.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Egg Drop Perfection
I don't feel good today. It first started yesterday at school. My throat got that tight feeling way in the back, and after I had finished making Michael's birthday cake, is when it really hit me. My body was all aches and before bed I had teeth chattering shivers and then uncomfortable sweating. I hate getting sick.
Today, to make me feel better, Michael brought home some Egg Drop Soup from Rice King! I feel that this is the only thing that makes one feel better. It is perfection in a styrofoam container. No chicken noodle soup here. Whats even better...I have leftovers for lunch tomorrow. I should think that I will be the envy of the faculty room. If you've never been, stop by Rice King on Center Street in Provo. Its not very aesthetically pleasing, but it is the best Chinese food that you can find around. I always order D7, but with Lemon Chicken instead of Sweet and Sour Pork...it is divine.
Today, to make me feel better, Michael brought home some Egg Drop Soup from Rice King! I feel that this is the only thing that makes one feel better. It is perfection in a styrofoam container. No chicken noodle soup here. Whats even better...I have leftovers for lunch tomorrow. I should think that I will be the envy of the faculty room. If you've never been, stop by Rice King on Center Street in Provo. Its not very aesthetically pleasing, but it is the best Chinese food that you can find around. I always order D7, but with Lemon Chicken instead of Sweet and Sour Pork...it is divine.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Spiteful Behavior
As you know, we are taking Mischa Boy in tomorrow morning to have him neutered...since we have broken the news to him it has been nothing but spiteful behavior from his end. Take last night for instance, I was getting dressed and failed to keep him in my sight when he peed for the second time on our bed. Later that evening he peed on Michael's bare leg while we were watching a movie, and today he peed on our curtains. We took off the one panel he peed on and washed it today. When we got home from church, I ironed them and then used my sewing machine to fix the bottom hem that had come undone. We then hung them up and this is what we got...a curtain panel that shrunk four inches, and major disconnect in the style of my living room.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Detached
Mischa boy has been going through puberty. I feel that as his mother, I should have acted sooner to prevent the negative effects of his changing body. Instead of cute little squats, it is high leg lifts on anything that doesn't smell like him. Instead of comfy cuddling, it is awkward leg humping that is entirely inappropriate. Instead of quiet laziness, it is nervous barking at most everything. I called Dr. Davis yesterday and made an appointment for next Monday...Mischa boy is going to get neutered...he will lose his little marbles.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Results Guaranteed
I couldn't quite come up with words to describe what happened next, except that they worked! It took me a few more shapers than I am sure the average person would need, but they worked! I love them! It took me about 5 minutes to clean up the nightmare that was happening above my eyes, and it was a total time saver, except that now above and below my newly shaped eyebrows I have redness and swelling...par for the course I suppose, because my name wouldn't be Morgan Shumway Rawle without some crazy side effect, or just really sensitive skin. Thanks Mom and Dad.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Excuse me?
As a teacher, I have the opportunity to be privy to some interesting information coming straight from the students. Today was no exception. As I was sitting at my desk, I heard one student say to another, "Student C, your a jerk!" One of the many jobs that come with teaching is disciplinarian. So I called the perp over to find out why he called Student C a jerk...btw, the perp was Student B, no surprise there. His response, "yeah, I called him a jerk because he is my friend." I reply, "we don't call people jerks, it is not nice...", I am interrupted with this little gem of knowledge, "jerk means Junior Educated Rich Kid." Oh, thanks for clearing that up.
Some of my favorite parts of the job are when students say things, or write things that are inappropriate in some way shape of form by accident, or innocence, and I have to act like I am not shocked or surprised by them. Today was a new one. I was teaching butterfly metamorphosis and let the students draw and label their own picture of a butterfly. One student came up to ask if she could name her butterfly. Of course I said yes, and then she showed me the name she had at the top of her picture. Strip Butterfly. I didn't know where she was going with that one, until she said, "stripe butterfly." I told her to add an 'e' at the end of strip.
So today, just like most days, I learned some new things from my students...and if I ever become an exotic dancer, I know what my name will be...Strip Butterfly, it has a nice ring to it.
Some of my favorite parts of the job are when students say things, or write things that are inappropriate in some way shape of form by accident, or innocence, and I have to act like I am not shocked or surprised by them. Today was a new one. I was teaching butterfly metamorphosis and let the students draw and label their own picture of a butterfly. One student came up to ask if she could name her butterfly. Of course I said yes, and then she showed me the name she had at the top of her picture. Strip Butterfly. I didn't know where she was going with that one, until she said, "stripe butterfly." I told her to add an 'e' at the end of strip.
So today, just like most days, I learned some new things from my students...and if I ever become an exotic dancer, I know what my name will be...Strip Butterfly, it has a nice ring to it.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
It fills in the cracks...
One year, I don't remember which exactly, but I do know it was a few years back, my brother just next to me in age came home with a shirt that said, "CONUNDRUM". He and a few of his friends had these shirts made for the sole purpose of being "cool". In reality, since they were in high school, I believe it was just a way for good boys that listen to their moms and follow school rules to affiliate under the guise of, "yeah, we're bad and we know it." Their gang name of choice...Conundrum.
Years later, that word has actually come to serve it's purpose. My brother has been a conundrum to me ever since we've gotten older. Sometimes he is predictable, other times he causes wonder. Gone are the days where we would trade Matchbox cars and play Barbies... I think we really understood each other then, but as we grew, he had brothers to play with, and I didn't have any sisters, so we parted ways and pretty much stuck to gender specific play.
My brother has grown into a man of few words. Every once in awhile I get a glimpse into who he is when he laughs. He has the best laughs. Sometimes they are loud and quick, other times they last a little bit longer with the timbre of happiness in them, but after that, he goes quiet again.
He is also simple. Not simple in the stupid way, but simple in that you know what makes him happy and those things will always make him happy. Basketball, ice-cold glasses of milk, chocolate, ESPN, the remote control, and the left hand side of the loveseat.
I love when I am surprised. Surprises are the brightest moments of my day. Last night my brother suprised me. He said something that made me laugh. He has made me laugh before, but I don't see him much, and so the surprises from him are few and far between. But last night was aces (how old am I?). We had just finished a great family home evening lesson when I asked if anyone wanted ice cream. The first response was from my brother...he said yes, and then he said, "It fills in the cracks." I laughed. I thought it was so funny...not only because it was funny to me, but because it came from my brother the conundrum, the enigma, the mystery.
So brother, just like ice cream, there is always room for you...you fill in the cracks. I love you.
Years later, that word has actually come to serve it's purpose. My brother has been a conundrum to me ever since we've gotten older. Sometimes he is predictable, other times he causes wonder. Gone are the days where we would trade Matchbox cars and play Barbies... I think we really understood each other then, but as we grew, he had brothers to play with, and I didn't have any sisters, so we parted ways and pretty much stuck to gender specific play.
My brother has grown into a man of few words. Every once in awhile I get a glimpse into who he is when he laughs. He has the best laughs. Sometimes they are loud and quick, other times they last a little bit longer with the timbre of happiness in them, but after that, he goes quiet again.
He is also simple. Not simple in the stupid way, but simple in that you know what makes him happy and those things will always make him happy. Basketball, ice-cold glasses of milk, chocolate, ESPN, the remote control, and the left hand side of the loveseat.
I love when I am surprised. Surprises are the brightest moments of my day. Last night my brother suprised me. He said something that made me laugh. He has made me laugh before, but I don't see him much, and so the surprises from him are few and far between. But last night was aces (how old am I?). We had just finished a great family home evening lesson when I asked if anyone wanted ice cream. The first response was from my brother...he said yes, and then he said, "It fills in the cracks." I laughed. I thought it was so funny...not only because it was funny to me, but because it came from my brother the conundrum, the enigma, the mystery.
So brother, just like ice cream, there is always room for you...you fill in the cracks. I love you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
