school
I was watching a commercial the other day showing some of the new styles for elementary school kids, and older kids too I guess. The big news is that the kids will be wearing leggings with lacy skirts that look like the slips we used to have as a kid. Wild to say the least, but still, they are practical, especially for little girls who don’t care if they bend over and allow the whole world to see clear to China. The leggings under the dress become stylish and practical, especially in the area of modesty.
They also take me back to my own elementary school days, when the girls had to wear dressed. No pants allowed, except for certain special days, like track day or special PE days. Snow days did not fall into this category, however. When it was cold out, we could wear pants under our dresses, but they had to be removed in the hallway and hung up like a coat…now that was modest, right. Pulling up your skirt and pulling down your pants without allowing everyone to see clear to China, was not very easy, and the younger the girls didn’t bother to even try. I’m sure in today’s world, and maybe if our mothers saw how that went, they would have been appalled, but it was just how it was back then.
Many people hate the new styles as they come in, but then as they think about it, they like it or see the advantages at least. Looking at the latest look, I have to say that while it is a bit unorthodox, the little slip over the leggings is cute, and ultra feminine. The girls look quite girly, and he slip has gone from being a slip to being more like a Tutu. Maybe that is why they all want to twirl like ballerinas, and what could be more cool for a little girl than feeling like a ballerina!!
On Saturday, at a baby shower for her sister, I watched my niece, Chantel struggle with the fact that her daughter is going to be going to college in Montana, and it is a 10 hour drive, which will make weekend visits impossible. As the tears flowed, triggered by advise she was reading to her sister on raising kids, my heart just ached for her. The game was meant to be fun, but for Chantel, well, it just made her wish she could turn back the clock. She and her daughter have always been close and the thought of her moving so far away leaves an emptiness that can’t be filled. Yes, they will Skype and there may be a trip or two before the weather gets to where that is dangerous, and they will fly Siara home for Christmas, but that still leaves a lot of days without her daughter…her baby being in her everyday life.
That is a tough place to be, but unfortunately it is also one of the seasons of life. My thoughts went back to some of the seasons of life that have torn at my heart. Probably one of the first ones that I remember, and was when my sister, Cheryl who is Chantel’s mother was moving to New York. We were also faced with the fact that we would be able to see her, maybe once a year, and the days leading up to that move were filled with quite a few teary moments too. Then there came my sister Caryl’s move to San Diego, and while that move was easier in terms of the fact that we had been down this road before, it was still very hard. We are simply a family of people who stay close to home. We are all in Wyoming at this point, except one nephew, Allen, soon to be stationed in Japan for 2 years and one niece, Lindsay in college in South Dakota, and now Siara in Montana. We just like to be close to each other.
I remembered my own seasons, which while not as hard were nevertheless, hard at the time. Corrie getting married. That first child leaving home moment is a hard one, even when they don’t move away, and then there is a semi-funny moment, when Amy went to 
pre-school, and was so excited that she left me at the door. I was the whiny one who had to go in the room and kiss her goodbye, hahaha.
My thoughts wandered back to Chantel, and her breaking heart, and while I knew that this moment felt to her like she would never feel better, I knew also, that she would. The sting of those feelings eases with time, and while a dull, lonely ache hurts in its own way, it is easier than the intense pain of the moment. My guess is that Siara, like most of our family, will return to Casper after college, and the season for leaving will be for Chantel, a distant memory.
I was at the hospital yesterday, bringing my father-in-law, who had been in the hospital for surgery, home. A nurse on the floor, who was not his nurse, and so didn’t know his last name, came in to see if the transport team member needed any assistance. When he said he didn’t, she looked at me and said, “You’re Amy’s mom aren’t you?” I laughed and said, “Yes, I am.” She told me that she had gone to school with Amy and asked me to tell her hello.
As I was leaving the hospital, I thought back to the first time someone had asked me that question. Amy was in Kindergarten and I was volunteering at the school, doing throat cultures to check for Strep Throat. As I walked into the nurses office to get my supplies ready, I saw two little girls sitting on the bed. One of them had apparently scraped her knee, and the other one was there for moral support. The little girl who was there with her hurt friend, said, “Are you Amy’s mom?” When I said that I was, the hurt little girl said, “Amy who?” The first girl said, “You know!!! Amy Sugarberry!!” That encounter put a smile on my face the rest of the day.
I have been told many times that Amy looks like me, although that is not alwyas something I can see. It must be so, however, because in recent months, I have had several people who know that I am Amy’s mom, tell me that I really look like her. Still it is surprising to have someone who doesn’t know me as Amy’s mom already, be able to just pull her name 
out of the hat when they see me. It really brings to light that we look very much alike.
I have always known that I bear a strong family resemblance, because I have had people recognize me as being my sisters’ sister many years after the graduated from high school, and ask me if I am my dad’s daughter, when it has been years since they have seen him. I guess with that said, I should not be surprised when they can see a strong resemblance between my daughter and me. Nevertheless, I find myself still amazed that even after all these years, I am still known as Amy’s mom!
My sister, Alena was a child who has always loved hair styling, and I have often wondered why she didn’t become a cosmetologist, but she didn’t. She still cuts our mom’s hair and that of some of the rest of the family, but that is not where her true calling lies. She was pretty funny as a child however, because her main practice head of hair was her own. If Alena was in the area…hide the scissors. I will never forget some of the comical hair styles she sported from time to time. Nor will I forget our mom’s difficult attempts at repairing the damage Alena had done. I remember the little pixie cut that came from a time when she cut one chunk very close to her head. And then there was the bangs that she suddenly had..and that were usually very short. The rest of us girls had long hair, but Alena’s hair depended on the cut of the day, and if Mom could keep the scissors out of her hands, which was next to impossible…because she would search them out.
When Alena wasn’t practicing her hair styling techniques, she was contemplating becoming a scientist…or more specifically, a chemist. Alena liked improving on the cleaning formulas we had in the house. I don’t really think that she ever perfected her own brand of cleaning formula by mixing Comet and shampoo, but our toilet, which was usually her mixing bowl, always seemed to be pretty clean. Of course, Mom could have wrung her neck a few times, and I have wondered how she mixed all that stuff, and never came up with a combination that would blow up the toilet. So much for really being a chemist, I guess. No, this wasn’t to be Alena’s true calling either.
While Alena never mentioned that school was anything that she particularly liked, it would be in a school setting that she would find her true calling. Alena began working in the school system when her children were still in school, and I’m sure that the hours were a factor in her decision, since she would have the same time off as her kids. She began working as a playground teacher, and was very well liked by all, including the children that she sometimes had to convince that they would be better off to control their behavior. It’s funny that often it is the strictest person in a child’s life that is the most respected. When her superiors saw how good she was at making kids behave…without killing any…they promoted her to positions like the “in school suspension” monitor, and eventually the 
classes for the children who were either troubled, or struggling. Of course, she had to take the necessary training for these positions, but in the end, she would find that she was well suited for this type of work, and believe it or not, these troubled children didn’t look at her as a warden, but as a friend, who understood them and wanted to help. Not a bad true calling, if you ask me.
Today is Alena’s birthday, and since she doesn’t have to work in the summer, I’m quite sure that she would be sleeping in, even if it weren’t a Saturday. And can you blame really her? Happy birthday Alena!! I hope you have a great day and a lovely summer!! We love you!!
Today is the last day of school in Casper. Some places go longer, and maybe some are out earlier, but for Casper, today is it. All the students are excitedly anticipating the end of the day that marks the beginning of summer vacation and…freedom!! I remember when I was in school, that last day seemed like the longest day of the year, and I liked school, so for kids who didn’t, it was worse…an eternity. The teachers spent most of the day wondering why they even had to come today, because other than the high school students who had finals, most of the classes consisted of watching movies, playing games, or picnics. The students have no books…those have been turned in, so the teacher couldn’t do any real lessons, and the students couldn’t study. It was and still is a wasted day, but the reality is that no matter what day is the last day, the result would be the same.
So, today is the last day. Some of my grandchildren finished up yesterday. Those who didn’t have finals today were able to skip today, and one who was just going to be watching movies didn’t go so his family could start the Memorial Day weekend early by going camping. There were a few kids that didn’t go the last day when I was in school too, and it fueled the whole “why do we even have to go today” syndrome in those of us who were left behind to complete the year. It makes sense to the adults that it doesn’t matter what day is the last day, it is a wasted day, but to the kids…especially the younger ones, it just doesn’t make sense.
As the school year ends, we are reminded that next year we will have 2 Juniors in high school, 1 Sophomore in high school, and on 8th grader in middle school. Where have the years gone? How can my little teeny grandbabies be such grown up people already? It is a stark reminder that time waits for no man…it simple marches on. Before we know it, these kids will be high school graduates, and out in the world, going forward to make their own way in it. We don’t know where their path will take them. Some of them have ideas and goals. Others don’t, and may not until they are graduates. Sometimes, life experiences show people without a doubt that they are perfect for one career or another, sometimes they have to explore some first. Time will tell.
But for today, they are simply moving into summer vacation and rejoicing in the chance to sit back and relax a little. Chris and Shai will be working this summer, of course, and 
Caalab will probably get a job when he turns 15 on the 25th of June. Josh will be the only one that doesn’t have a job yet, but I know he will do odd jobs for extra spending money, because that is the way he is too. As for the school year…well, for the summer at least it will have a distant place in the back of their minds…stored away until the fall, because this year is over. The clock moves forward to the final bell for this year…and it’s a wrap!!
As summer approaches, my thoughts drift back to summers gone by. Once school was out for the summer, the neighborhood kids had three months of wonderful, carefree days. We would run and play, or lay around in the shade reading a book or watching the clouds float by. Three months of freedom!! It was so relaxing, and looking back now, I’m sorry I took those days or granted. All too soon, they would be gone…just a memory.
We went swimming and sun bathing. And since I love the sunshine, this was the perfect time of year for me. I have always been a “Popsicle Person” so the heat and sun were my best chance of thawing out from the too long and too cold Winter. I relished the time I could 
spend outside. Then as now, the summer months are my rejuvenation time. I feel so dragged out during the winter, and when summer comes, I start to feel alive again. So…bring it on!!
At some point, every summer, our family took a vacation. It didn’t matter if money was tight, we always went somewhere. We camped out under the stars. The smell of the campfire was everywhere. Roasting marshmallows was a nightly event. The air was warm and the scent of flowers and pine trees was everywhere. We would sit around for hours…far into the night, just enjoying the beauty of the night. Our family loves a good camp fire so much, in fact, that we often have fire pits going during the summer evenings at home, just to be able to sit around and watch the fire, and smell the wonder scent of the burning wood. The days on 
vacation were filled with sight seeing, shopping for souveniers, fishing, or just relaxing. We were so blessed to have traveled to so many places.
As summer approaches, I begin planning our annual trip to the Black Hills, where Bob and I spend a week hiking in the hills. We will end up at Harney Peak at some point in the trip, and as usual, we will be sorry when our time there is over, because it is one of our favorite places on Earth. I am so ready for the summer months, that it is hard to wait. I’m thankful that April was, and May is starting out nice and warm, because a rainy Spring can put a big damper on my thoughts of Summer.
My grandson, Josh started out in this life as a preemie baby, being born 5 weeks early, and while his medical problems were minor…just underdeveloped lungs and his small size. After spending 2 weeks at Presbyterian St Luke’s Hospital in the neo-natal intensive care unit, Josh came home a healthy baby boy with no signs of the early birth he had experienced. He began the catch up process, and did a very good job of it. He quickly left behind that small size and weak lungs, and turned into a very healthy and strong runner.
Today, I had the privileged of attending Josh’s track meet in Douglas. Josh has always loved to run…even as a little boy, and he and his brother raced to school. Their dad tells me that they still race each other, and maybe that is why Josh is so good at racing…lots of practice. He started out trying to catch up to his brother, and then he started winning sometimes.
Josh did well in his races, but it was the 4 X 400 Meter Relay that was the most exciting…for many people. In the 4 X 400 Meter Relay, there are teams that race against each member of the team runs once around the track with a baton. After each runner runs their lap, the baton is handed off to the next runner. Josh was the second runner on his team. At the point the baton was handed off to Josh, his team was in dead last out of 6 or 7 teams. About a quarter of the way around the track Josh began his sprint. He passed the slowest runners easily, and then began the real catch up work. One by one Josh passed each other the other runners, until there was only one runner ahead of him. When Josh handed off the baton to the next runner, their team was in 2nd place, and there they stayed.
Josh had put his team back in the race. They were in last place…with little hope of changing their situation. It is very hard to picture any possibility of catching up. Then came Josh. He ran past each of the other racers as if they were standing still, and believe me, they were running hard. If there had been 100 more meters for Josh to run, he would have 
passed the first place team runner as well, but it didn’t matter, because they had been given hope again. And they weren’t in last place. Second place was a joyous position to be in.
After the race was over, and Josh returned to the bleachers where we were sitting near his school’s group. Josh was the talk of the crowd. All three coaches complimented him on a great run, as did all the students…and especially his teammates. The last runner on his team…usually the fastest runner, came up to Josh and said, “That’s it!! You are a permanent member of our relay team!!” It was a wonderful day for my grandson…and his parents and grandma too.
Today is the first track meet of the year for my grandson, Josh. He is the only one of my grandkids that really likes track. The others have done it a time or two, but Josh loves to run, and so the track part of the meet totally suits him. He has really been training for the track meets all of his life…even before he knew what a track meet was.
Josh and his big brother, Chris used to come to my house in the mornings and when it was time to go to school, they would walk the half block to their elementary school. I say that they walked, but that was rarely the case. Mostly they had a race to see who could get there first, and except for reminding them to look both ways for cars, I simply enjoyed watching the race to see who would win today.
When these races first started, Josh was pretty little…a Kindergarten, grade school newcomer. At that age, his strategy was…outsmart the big brother. So, he tried to distract his big brother so he could get the upper hand. They were supposed to go out to the sidewalk and start the race at the same time, but Josh always managed to figure out a way to get a head start. I know that he figured it was his only way to win, since his brother, Chris is 2 1/2 years older than he is. And at in those early years, Josh was probably right.
Then as Josh grew, things began to change. Josh worked so hard at beating his brother, that he grew stronger and quicker. He started winning a race or two…which was surprising to his brother. We had to start making Josh was until I said, “On your mark! Get set! Go!” Otherwise the races were no longer fair to Chris. Still, even with the new fair starts, Josh was winning more and more. Not always, but winning fair and square.
Those early races were not to practice for future track meets, but they did stimulate a love for running and racing that has carried Josh into this sport. He has tried the field events, but they don’t give him the excitement of the run, the wind in his face, and the thrill of the victory that racing gives. Running is where he shines, and I, for one, love to watch the race. Go get ’em Champ!!
Most of us have a teacher that we would have to call our favorite of all the teachers we ever had, and I am no exception, but this story is about the favorite teacher I never had. You see, I couldn’t have had this teacher, because by the time she was born, I was already out of school. My favorite teacher I never had is my niece, Liz. I can’t say that I know anything about her teaching style, and I suppose you could call me biased, and you would be right, but she is nevertheless, my favorite.
Liz is also the favorite of many of her students, and when they leave her class, most are friends for life. Her students friend her on Facebook, and even go on trips with her later. She has traveled with one student’s family to Europe, and everyone had a wonderful time. Liz is simply a friend to all. And is loved by all who know her.
I know that her teaching style is great, because you don’t like a teacher who makes class boring, or is just a bad teacher in general. I do know that while she maintains an orderly class, it is also somewhat laid back. Maybe that is why her students work so hard for Liz. They try to excel. That is a quality that is so important in teaching. You have to be able to inspire your students. That is what Liz does.
As I have watched Liz through her years of teaching, I have found myself amazed at the love her students feel for her. I rarely heard of that before I began watching Liz do her teaching thing. Most kids, even if they liked their teacher, were still done with the teachers after school was over. And almost no one wants to spend time with the teachers after school is over…except Liz’s students. I think that is wonderful.
Liz is also the photographer for events, sports, the school paper, and the annual. That is a big responsibility, and yet a lot of fun, because she has the unique ability to get to know students that aren’t even in her classes. She is careful to include every student in the school annual, and as many other events as she possible can. Those kids couldn’t have a better photographer…I know, because she has done pictures of my family too, as well as my grandson and other family members in the school activities. Yes, she has taught her cousins and nieces and nephews…and they still love her too.
Yes, I am biased, but Liz is still my favorite teacher, even though I never had her as a teacher. She is a different kind of teacher…one who really cares about her students, and that is awesome…as any of her students would tell you. And having someone in this world who cares about someone they aren’t related to, teacher or otherwise is rare indeed. Happy birthday Liz!! We all love you!!
When you are the younger brother, life isn’t always easy. Your older brother gets to do all the really cool things, while you have to stay home, because you are too little. That’s how Easton used to feel…when he was younger. Easton’s big brother, Weston got to go to school, and even better, Weston got to go to their grandma’s house after school and spend several hours there. Going to Grandma’s house was the coolest place to go…and Weston was the only one who ever got to go and spend time there. It just wasn’t fair.
The really bad thing for Easton was that nobody seemed to understand how he felt, or even know that something was wrong. And worse, he didn’t know how to tell them. It was a dilemma. And since Weston was older than Easton by 4 years it was a dilemma that would be with him for quite a while. Easton realized early on that things were different for his older brother. Weston had a lot more rights and privileges. How could that be fair?
By the time Easton was old enough to understand that not all things are fair, and he was getting ripped off, this situation had gone on a while. Since Easton seemed too little to go the places and do the things his big brother was allowed to do, no one gave any thought to whether or not it was fair…it was simply the way it was. Easton wasn’t old enough. Unfortunately, as often happens with the younger sibling, the family thought of Easton as somehow younger than he really was. He was the baby, after all. It was just too soon for Easton to go to Grandma’s…or was it?
Finally, Easton had taken all of this situation that he could. It was time for him to take action. So, one day, he gathered up all the courage he had, and he told his mom and grandma that he would be a good boy, if he could go to grandma’s house too. The reaction to his little heart wrenching plea, was one of complete shock and surprise. No one had even considered that Easton was feeling that way. But, his courage paid off, because after that day, Easton got to go to his grandma’s house to play too. He was a big boy now!! The day had finally arrived!!
Today that sweet little boy turns 8 years old. No one thinks of him as a baby anymore, but a big boy who know how to be a good boy at his grandma’s house, and how to speak for himself…at least when it is really important. Happy birthday Easton!! We love you big boy!!
