Trying the Y

This week, I tried an early morning exercise class at the Y. A co-worker of mine attends that class sometimes, and since I'm not motivated enough to work out regularly on my own, I decided to try this class approach.

Fortunately the Y has a free week trial option. I can attend a few classes before I make the commitment to join and fork over the monthly fee.

That first morning, my body was in shock when the alarm rang at 4:50. As I stumbled to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I tried to remember the last time I was ever awake at that hour. Probably when the kids were babies and I was up at all hours of the night and early morning to feed them. The only other time is when we have a plane to catch. I was a bit overwhelmed at the insanity of waking up that early without really having to. 

As I drove to the Y, I was amazed at the eerie quiet and calm around town. I drove past houses, convinced that not a single soul was awake but me. Even the stoplights downtown were blinking in their "middle of the night" mode...a sure sign that I was up WAY too early and this was a complete mistake.

I turned the corner by the Y, and was shocked to see how many cars were parked out front. I walked inside the building, and it was buzzing with activity. I couldn't believe how many people regularly get up at that time (or maybe even earlier) to work out. 

Once I realized that I wasn't doing anything noteworthy by getting up that early to exercise, and that I wasn't the only person in Boone who had to go work a full day and would feel tired by 8:00 that evening,  I figured I'd better get over myself,  pick up my weights, and get busy.

After all, excuses don't burn calories or build muscle. But, will I be able to stick with this inhumane schedule? I guess time will tell...

Battling Tattling

My first graders have spring fever. The weather is not cooperating most of the time, lately, and neither are they. It's an interesting dynamic in a classroom at the end of the school year. Many kids have become the best of friends. Many are even partners in crime. But often, as the year draws to a close, I see combinations of kids who seem to be in constant conflict with each other.

At the end of every recess, at least one little person makes a beeline for me, with the intention of reporting some horrible injustice that happened on the playground. After hearing their testimony, I usually put the ball back in their court, and make sure that they've tried to handle the problem themselves. It often takes much of the wind out of their sails when they confess that they didn't remember to try to problem-solve on their own and say "Please stop" as I've taught them. Some children think it will be  so much more satisfying to tell the teacher, then are disappointed when their report fails to get me emotionally involved.

My rules are firm. In my class, you can tell on someone if:

1. Someone is in danger

2. Something is getting broken

3. It's about you

I had to snicker last week, as the tattling attempts got a bit more creative. One child innocently asked, " Aren't we supposed to finish our spelling BEFORE we choose an activity from the work-tub?" Her subtle, but hopeful eye contact gave me a glimpse of an ignored spelling paper at her neighbor's work space. 

The conflicts get a bit ironic when one child tattles because someone has taken apart their lego creation during inside recess, only to find that at the next recess, they themselves are the newest perpetrator.

The tattling seemed to continue after I got home and turned on the evening news. During the CIETEC trial, grown men and women were pointing the finger at their co-workers and hoping their own crimes would go un-noticed. 

Hmmm. Kind of hard to tell the children from the adults....

Exercising Alone?

It's no fun to exercise alone! Yesterday I tried to discipline myself and do some exercises in the living room. I had been working out regularly with a group of teachers for our school wellness program, but the coach who has been leading the work outs had to quit doing it. (He may have simply run out of patience with us. We didn't take ourselves too seriously and part of the fun was laughing and joking as we exercised!) It was such a struggle to get into the habit of working out, so I'm determined to find a way to keep going.

Anyway, I cleared a spot in the living room, put on my exercise clothes, and rounded up an assortment of make-shift weights to use. I tried to remember the sequence of exercises we'd been taught. Each time I got down on the floor to do my abdominal work, I was instantly surrounded my my dogs. Evidently seeing me struggle on the floor like that relayed some sort of doggy distress signal. They smothered me with kisses and excitedly walked back and forth across my head and chest. Then I would get up, wipe myself off and do a set of lunges or squats. But as soon as I layed back down for more crunches, they came bounding in to "rescue" me again! The last straw was when I attempted some chair push ups. As I labored to tone my triceps, the dogs happily came to help, and jumped on my lap, adding at least 25 more pounds to my efforts. I managed to finish a few sets of exercises, but it was difficult with the extra assistance from Buddy and Pearl, not to mention missing the company of friends.

Next time, I'm either going to the Y or using the doggy gates.

Paper Rolling Saturday Mornings

My son Sam has a paper route. He delivers our local paper 5 days a week and has been such a trooper about this responsibility through this long hard winter. He's managed his route on the ice, and in the snow as well as below zero temperatures. I told him he even provided his customers some free entertainment whenever he wiped out on the slick spots in their driveways :)

Each Saturday morning, the papers are extra thick with the Ames paper and ad inserts. He is able to manage them if they are rolled and placed in plastic bags before he takes off for his route. So every Saturday, I sit on the kitchen floor with him and we roll and bag the papers together until our fingers are black from the ink.

He and I give each other a bad time, and I tease him because I can roll 10 papers to his one. (He stops rolling every time he opens his mouth to talk!) It seems like such a drudgery sometimes, but I realize that working on projects together, side by side, is how families make memories together. When he's all grown up, I'll probably actually miss these moments.

Paper Starfish

At school today we made paper starfish as part of our ocean unit. The kids are so cute and funny with their enthusiasm about each new creature we study. They listened intently as I read nonfiction books and we collected facts about starfish. We noted the amazing way it eats its prey. They loved hearing about a starfish's body, and how if one arm gets cut off or eaten by a predator, another one grows in its place.

They were beside themselves with excitement when I showed them the craft project we would be making...a paper starfish. Each child decorated theirs, then carefully cut one arm off and attached a new "arm" to the back with a brad fastener. The high point is when they could turn the paper arm to make it look like it miraculously grew back.

In order to make the most of this teachable moment, I reviewed what we'd learned about the starfish. The kids were able to remember so much about the body, habitat, and food. Last, I asked them what was a predator to a starfish. Without hesitating, a chorus of children responded, "Scissors!"

Moments like that are the reason I love this job.

It's the Dog's Chair

Doesn't every dog have his own chair? 

During my sorting and pitching adventures in the basement, I came across this chair. I used it when I taught middle school, and it made a great addition to my reading corner. The students loved any place to sit that wasn't their desk. When I started teaching first grade, I thought I would use it, but space has been a premium in my classroom, and I left it at home to avoid the inevitable squabbles it would cause with little kiddos.

Last week I hauled it upstairs and considered getting rid of it. It's faded in places and stained in others, and I've never thought it was very comfortable to sit in. On the other hand, with all the budget cuts and rearranging going on in our school district, who knows what grade I could end up teaching before long? I laughed when Buddy jumped up in it, and snuggled down in the little nest it created. Later that day. I folded it up and leaned it against the wall to get it out of my way. A few days later, I was working at the desk when Buddy started whining and driving me crazy. I couldn't figure out what his problem was. His food dish was filled and he had been outside to potty... He apparently recognized that I was a slow learner, so he went over to the folded chair, whined again and scratched at it. As soon as I unfolded the chair, he happily jumped up in it and settled in.

Of course I can't get rid of that chair now. It's Buddy's.

Out of Practice

This morning while I sat at the computer, my heart started racing, my palms were sweaty, and it was hard to breathe. Before I decided to call in sick from work and find out what horrible condition I was suffering from, I remembered this is an experience I have every year when I get the boys' baseball schedules and I add them to the calendar.

This year I'm using iCal, which is a cool feature on the mac OS. I can use it at home and school, and (hopefully) keep track of everything I need to do. It has little alarms on it that nag me or even send me emails if necessary to remind me about upcoming events. 

So I'm sitting at the kitchen counter, computer in front of me, stack of baseball schedules beside me, and I'm happily typing away. I even made a cute little color-coded system... green for Ben's high school games, blue for Sam's little league activities. Of course, I already had home stuff and church stuff on the schedule with their designated colors.

Then things started to get complicated. I was running out of room to type on many of the squares. Sam's piano lesson at 4:30, game at 6:00, plus Ben's Varsity Double Header in Knoxville at 5:30. My head started to throb as I entered dates and times that were overlapping. I imagined these future days, racing in the car to make it to most of the boys' activities, eating on the run most nights of the week, and going to bed at night unprepared for the next day at school.

 I got to the last week of May when varsity baseball is in full swing, and the panic attack started. Ben has games 4 nights that week, and Sam has two. How can I work full time and manage it all ??! Before I started whimpering out loud and woke up the family, I gave myself a mental shake and remembered back to previous years' baseball seasons. 

Life will be hectic, the house will get dirtier than I'd like, and I will do lesson plans on my lap as Perry drives down the highway to the next town on the schedule. We will eat dinner at strange times, keep most of our worldly possessions in the car, and do much of our parenting via cell phone. It just sounds like a nightmare right now because I'm out of practice. Just as Sam's batting will improve, I will get the hang of this new pace of life.

Once the season officially begins, there's no place I'd rather be than on the bleachers eating concession stand popcorn and watching my boys play baseball.

Being Fair

I got a whopper of a bruise last week while I was vacuuming. Somehow, I stepped on the cord and the handle smacked me in the center of my thigh. I knew instantly that it would be a nasty one, and since I seem to bruise easily anyway, an average bump can look like I've been in a car accident or something.

This morning I got up and felt thankful that it's not shorts weather yet. My bruise has blossomed...literally. It looks like I have a large purple pansy on my leg...the yellow accents are even in the right places.

I've been told that faired skinned people like me bruise easily, and of course, bruises stand out vividly on my glow-in-the-dark complexion. Being pale seems to be a genetic kick in the pants. Fair skinned people get freckles instead of tan in the summer, and later in life are more at risk for skin cancer. When I go shopping for clothes, choosing a pastel color is out of the question because pink or baby blue only accentuates my veins.

If I was a pioneer woman, my lily-white skin would make me the envy of all the women east or west of the Mississippi. I'd be the hottest thing wearing a bonnet! But life in this century gives me the stuff in a tube that dyes my skin with a "daily glow" when shorts weather comes around.

Yesterday I bought a fresh tube of that wonderful stuff, and I'll start slathering it on. It won't disguise the pansy, but it may get me ready to put on a pair of shorts when summer comes.

Letting Go

It's really an ugly piece of furniture, so it shouldn't be hard to get rid of it. It has outlived its usefulness in this family, so it only makes sense to give it away to be sold at the Humane Society rummage sale, right?

That's what my head is saying. My heart is having a hard time parting with something that has served so many different purposes for us over the years.

When it was newly built, it served as an exam table in my father's first doctor's office. With the pad across the top, I can envision the many children in the 60's and 70's who had their ears and throats looked at while they sat on it. 

The clinic was being remodeled and it was going to be disposed of about the time Perry and I got married. Since we had no furniture to speak of, we eagerly accepted it, knowing the cabinets and drawers would provide great storage for us. I think we used it as a make-shift buffet, with our china and silverware stored below.

When Joey came along, we put the thick vinyl cushion back on top and it was used as a super-deluxe changing table. Those drawers held diapers, wet wipes, spit rags, and lots of other baby supplies for many years.

It was clunky and cumbersome, but each time we moved to a new home, this piece had to come along with us. It was just too sturdy and versatile to consider leaving behind. In our current house, it has always been in the basement; its cupboards filled with craft supplies and the top loaded with stacks of things that don't belong anywhere else in the house.

I emptied it out today, as part of my month-long sort-and pitch project in the basement. Looking at it now, my mind wanders back to the days my babies babbled and cooed as they laid on it to get their diapers changed.

I wonder where this piece will end up next. As a tool bench in a workshop? Maybe a storage piece in a garage? The practical side of me and the sentimental side have been doing battle in my mind today. The person who purchases this odd piece might get a good bargain, but they'll never imagine the sentiment behind it.

A Gift to Myself

No, I haven't been to IKEA lately, and I didn't just go to J.Jill or Target. I haven't been ordering online recently (well, not much, anyway). The gift I gave myself came from Fareway, and consisted mostly of raw meat.

Yesterday, I came home after a busy day at school, ran Sam to piano lessons, then to baseball practice. We got home at 6:00, yet still had a home cooked meal of meatballs with tomato sauce. Sounds impossible, right? The only reason we didn't make a Subway run is because I had food ready in the freezer. This is my newest attempt at saving money and my sanity during the school year.

I've been dabbling with this on my own for awhile...when I have time on a weekend, I load up on ingredients, and then make up 2 or 3 batches of something to put in the freezer for a day I really need it.

Last weekend I took it a step further and  got together with some friends from church to prepare some make-ahead freezer meals. It was fun to do it in a group. We had a good time catching up on each others' lives, and after a couple of hours, I had more than 7 main dishes fixed and ready to take home and freeze. Driving home that day, I felt so smug, knowing that on the craziest, most stressful week days, dinner would be a no-brainer.

Frozen meatballs...who knew it could be a cure for Mommy guilt?