School

Band Blues

Abigail surprised us by bringing home her french horn yesterday.
She said the band teacher made everyone take their instruments home.
She hasn’t been going in early to practice
because she says that they have only learned three notes
and she already has them down.
She took out the instrument to demonstrate.
I said, “What notes were those?”
She said, “Mom, that was one note.”
LeGrand and I busted up.
We couldn’t help it.
And then LeGrand said,
“Alice, maybe you should go down to the school
to see about switching Abigail over to just choir
instead of the choir/band combination.”
Abigail smacked him.
And her and I proceeded to the piano to practice some more.
It’s about time the kid has some humbling experiences.
Between band and never-ending homework,
I think she’s finally being challenged.
We are happy.
And still chuckling
over
“which notes were those?”

Heroes
Who is your hero?
It’s a simple question that when answered tells a lot about a person.
I have lots of heroes.
Jesus Christ.
Parents of special needs’ kids.
Teachers who love what they do.
Servicemen and women and their families.
Anyone who stands for what is right, even if they do it alone.
A friend of ours, Derek Hinckley, has a song called My Hero.
It talks about heroic Christlike qualities and the love for a parent.
Every mom and dad should be a hero.
If any of you know happen to know Kenny Chesney personally,
or his agent, or someone who knows his agent,
maybe you could turn him on to this page on facebook:
It’s an amazing song.
Its video was chosen my Sean Hannity to be a finalist.
For now, here’s a Kenny Chesney video that I just enjoyed immensely.
I want to drag LG out to a High School football game
and see if I can get “that feeling” back.
I couldn’t help but think of my brother Erick
while watching.
He loves the game of football.
And gets to hold on to THAT FEELING
while coaching in Rexburg, ID.
Here’s a link to Kenny’s song
The video makes the song even better.

Middle School Malady
Summer is over.
I am sending Abigail to school with the big boys.

And I fear for her because
I still have Middle School nightmares.

Here are some examples:

(LG says they are sad,
but really people,
read with a sense of humor,
comedy stems from tragedy,
and I laughed as I wrote
every single one of these
because
what doesn’t kill you,
makes you stronger.)


1 – That one black kid who used to tease me incessantly that I was fat
is at it again. And I am stuck waiting for science class, and I can’t escape.

2 – I am at school naked
running through the halls
at Valley Jr. High.
(Funny, that was really the name of my school
in CA, even during the infamous
Warning: Song has language and sexual content)
Like totally awesome.

3 – I am at Magic Mountain riding roller coasters all alone.
(I didn’t go on the school’s 8th grade trip
because my only friends Melanie and Angela weren’t going
and who was I going to hang out with?)

4 – I am learning how to type things in DOS.
goto
HELP.

5 – I am dressed up like a mummy,
except I’m duddy, because my sister is mummy,
and we thought it would be funny if we coordinated
including the cabbage patch mummy who was bubby.
And I reek like ketchup
because that is what we used for the blood.
And my mom didn’t tell us better.
Probably because we wouldn’t listen to her anyway,
and she figured we could learn the hard way.
And I am stuck at school
and it’s only 2nd period
and I can’t stand the smell of myself
and Bubby is stuffed in my locker.

6 – I am dissecting frogs.
Or trying to hide under the table.

7 – I am eating Little Debbie Nutty Butty bars,
and cafeteria chocolate chip cookies,
and school pizza (still my favorite).
And I can’t stop myself,
I just keep eating and eating until I am sick.
All I drink is soda or chocolate milk
And I am wondering why I am so fat.

8 – My hair is huge.
And it won’t un-frizz.

9 – And I am stuck in the nurse’s office with a hole in the butt of my pants,
and I don’t want to tell her that a dog bit me on the way to school.
Because I have been warned not to play with strange dogs.
But I can either walk around school with my undies hanging out,
or risk telling my mom what happened.

10 – I am bored out of my mind
in History class,
but my teacher is so hot,
I can’t concentrate.

11 – I am so sad because I didn’t make Choraliers.
And all the cool kids love to dance and sing.
But, I could only sing,
and not dance.

12 – I am stuck in the library
once in 7th and once in 8th grade
because my mom doesn’t think that the public schools
should teach kids about sex ed,
and I wasn’t as smart as my brother and sister
to forge her signature
on the permission slip.

13 – I am standing there all awkward
And it doesn’t matter to anyone
that I had tried to be invisible
for the past two years
and now they were just
proving to me that I was out to be humiliated.

14 – And last, but certainly not least,
I can’t remember
my dang locker combination
for the 1ooth time.

Oh, my dear Abigail.

Welcome to the worst years of your life.

And whenever you are having a really bad day,
remember that you are WAY better off
than your mom ever was
because
1 – you aren’t fat,
and
2 – you have an amazing memory
that will keep you from ever
forgetting your locker combination.

I wish you would always listen to me
so that you wouldn’t have to learn the hard way
But, that is just part of growing up.
In times of trial,
when you are saying,
“I should have listened to my mom”
know this,
I will be there to rescue you
when it gets really really bad.
Because
nobody on this earth
loves you more than I do.


And
I would never let you
wear a Halloween costume
doused in Heinz ketchup
past 4th period.

First Crush

I love my daughters.

I love my relationship with them.
We always have fun! But, I am able to have the most fun with Abigail. I have discovered that the older my kids get, the more ways I can mess with them.

As I blogged about previously, Abigail’s 5th grade year was spent with a lot of teasing because of her first major crush. You can see the side of the face of her beloved smartie pants’ boy Google. It’s only natural that all of her little sisters have also decided that they love this boy. They regularly say his name to get the baby to smile.

They are both so smart and funny that it’s just natural that everyone kind of puts them together. They are smart enough to not take it too serious and funny enough to mess with.
At the end of the year awards ceremony Google was an Awards Hog.
Abigail got a bunch also, but not as many as Google. She wouldn’t want to make him look bad. As they walked up a bunch of times to get their different awards, they each displayed the same quick and determined gate. They were each trying to be humble while they were so pleased with themselves.
I just love these kids.
Here is Abigail’s glance over her shoulder on the one trip that she ended up standing next to Google.
The look says something like, “Mom, you better NOT embarrass me!”
Hope she doesn’t mind me sharing the awesome photo on my blog.
Oh, and kudos and many thanks to my masterful photographer friend Keith Poveda who captured the kodak moment. If you want his number give me a holler.

Noteworthy

* just a note: this is the picture I decided to use as part of this post, it has no affiliation to Adrian Burnett, except for the fact that all the staff live the Golden rule. I don’t want to get any non-believers out there up in arms.

If you live in Knoxville, Adrian Burnett Elementary is the place to educate your children.

I cannot praise the staff enough.
They help me to raise my children.
They mentor my children in one way that means the world to me:
positivity.
Every year I get choked up. Every dang year! “Why”, you ask? Those darn awards days. Yes, you wouldn’t be surprised by me crying at the pride I have in my children. They fair well, but I am always proud of my children. It’s something even greater than them.
It’s this time of the year that I get to be proud of people besides my children. I am so proud of the teachers at Adrian Burnett. They believe in their kids, no matter how hard the year may or may not have been. The last week of school, you will find EVERY child leaving the school with a ribbon in hand and a message that will remain in the hearts of the children who attended this wonderful school, full of wonderful teachers, administrators, and support staff. The teachers find something to congratulate every child for whether it be “most improved reader” or “the nicest friend in the class”. In fact sometimes, I leave, wishing that my kids would take one of these special awards home over the many others that they always get. What better message can a child earn than:
“I am good at something” and “Somebody noticed”.
My love and admiration goes to them all. And my thanks goes to God because he has made it possible for my children to have such a wonderful opportunity to be educated in ALL the things of this world. Every day, they see by almost perfect example the power of kindness and service.

Anatomical Energy
There is a reason I married a guy who had the skills in Science.

I knew somebody was gonna have to teach it to our children.
Shortly after LG and I got married, we both started a new semester of college. He went to one of his advanced classes while I tried my hand at Physical Science 101. After this 2nd attempt at Physics, (the first ending horribly in High School with one of the only bad grades I remember receiving) I found my knight in shining armor waiting for me outside the room. It only took that first 45 minutes of the introduction to the semester to get me all in tears.
“I just can’t take that class.”
He was dumbfounded. I tried to explain. He tried to understand.
Me: “I just don’t get the study of gravity. I know if I chuck this textbook at you, it will hit you. Why else do I need to know that stuff? I don’t care how long it will take or how hard it will hit. Who needs the law of gravity? It’s not like we are ever gonna live on the moon.”
Him: “Well, Alice, that isn’t technically the law of gravity, if you throw that book at me.”
Me crying harder, “O.k. whatever, see I just don’t care. I can’t learn about something that I don’t care about one iota.”
“or one molecule, or atom or whatever they call that stuff.”

Do they really call it mass? Matter? And there is a difference between the two?

Later that evening, while in bed, (we were newly weds who actually waited until we got married, so you can go ahead and wonder why we were still discussing this topic) we decided that Biology might be a better choice for me.

If I could get the babies here,

he would agree to teach them everything they needed to know in the area of science.

Well, tonight was the night. Where was my knight in shining armor when I needed him?

Abigail came home from the fifth grade with the confusing stuff.

“Are you serious Abigail? They really teach you this stuff in fifth grade?”

No wonder I was so lost in the 11th grade. It was the first time I remember ever seeing the material.

Did the rest of the class really get their start about 6 years earlier?

Well, I am honored to tell you that the stuff is still confusing to me.

Abigail tried to be humble. O.k. not really.

“Mom, it’s so easy. Will you just test me on the stuff?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

Note to self: Someday tell Abigail the knight in shining armor story.

Here is where my explaining stopped.

This is a photo of the Nuclear Plant in Diablo Valley, CA

Me: “Abigail, there are two boobs in California. I think they are kinetic, um, I mean potential energy.”

“Oh, forget it, go to bed. We’ll get you up early so dad can help you.”
Abigail. “Boobs, are you kidding me mom?”
Oh, yeah, I dropped Anatomy after two weeks.
I just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing what was really inside of a boob.
And if you are like me and still left trying to figure it out.
Does a boob store energy or is it “energy in use”?
You will have to ask my husband. Or Abigail may be able to help you. Tomorrow.

LG just got home.
He says that the answer is: Boobs create energy.

Sing, sing, sing
If I had another life to live, I think I would like to be a music teacher.
Abigail was chosen to be in the Knox County Honors Choir.
I am so excited.
I cannot wait for their concert.
I feel like I have ticket to American Idol or something.
Abigail’s director gave them this youtube link to hear one of the songs they will sing.
I cried when I watched it.
Maybe I am in the dark ages, but this choir PS22 is all over the place.
Check out their blog.
What an inspiring choir director.
He just made my day.
I e-mailed him and he e-mailed me back.
What a guy.

It’s official, she’s a nerd.
Abigail has a friend at school.

I think she kind of likes him.

She denies it and will continue to do so, so please don’t tell her I posted this.

(I really hope that nobody at her school reads my blog.
I would never forgive myself for spilling the beans.)

She must have a thing for the smart boys.
She has nicknamed him Google.

Because you can ask him anything and he knows the answer.

Wow. I think I married a google too.

The question is, does this boy now trump Papa? Because it used to be him that knew everything.

Can there be more than one google man in this world?

Can we just call papa, beta google?
Abigail did say that she could name her friend Encyclopedia Brown.
But, maybe we should save that title for papa.
It’s so old school.

Uranus and UP

Here is Abigail trying to make Caroline smile.

I know I’ve blessed my children’s lives eternally by gifting them my sense of humor. I know they are happy about it. I know because I hear their laughter on a consistent basis.

I am not so sure that their posterity will be so grateful, but if my theory that laughter is genetic is true, then I am sure they will be.

This evening, I pulled out one of Abigail’s graded papers from her backpack.

As I read, my funny bone was struck like a beautiful chord.

I had to call LG at work to beam with pride.

Me: “LG, you gotta listen to this.”

LG: After my third attempt “Alice, I can’t understand a word you are saying, you gotta quit laughing.”

Me: “Abigail brought this paper home. She turned it in this way. I can’t stop laughing. At the top it is entitled Uranus. (oh c’mon, tell me some of you immature types are already laughing – LG was still silent) It then reads. ‘The planet I was assigned was Uranus, now, don’t laugh, Uranus actually has some interesting facts.’“

LG: “Alice, it’s not funny, she is just saying it is an interesting planet.” (Yeah, of course he would think that. She gets the scientific side from him)

I was out to prove that she gets a little DNA from me too. I hollered out to Abigail. “Why did you say not to laugh in this paper Abigail. Was it because it’s a small planet?

Abigail: trying to be serious “No, mom, it’s just because the name sounds funny.”

Me: “Why does it sound funny Abigail. I know you are too smart for that. Do you know what an anus is?”

LG on the other line is denying that she would know any such thing. At which point Abigail busts out in laughter. “Yeah, mom, an anus is the hole in your bum.”

That’s my girl!

The conversation finished by me using every ounce of self control to stop laughing and discussing LG’s further plans for the evening. He said, “If basketball is lame, maybe I will stop by Redbox on the way home.”

Me: “Yeah, that would be fun. Instead of Redbox, we could just watch U – P (spelling out the name of the movie so the kids wouldn’t catch on to a future Christmas gift.)

LG responds to my fits of laughter with, “What are you talking about Alice?” I reply while trying to breathe instead of laugh, “I said we could watch YOU PEE.” LG was still clueless. I had to explain that I was spelling the movie title at which point he gave me a sad sounding chuckle.

C’mon people. Tell me you laughed.