Gathering my Ducklings

I've never been afraid of storms, but I don't like it ONE BIT when severe weather is headed our way and I don't have my family with me. Just like a mother duck, when things look dangerous, I want to gather them together and tuck everybody under my wing. This is harder as my "ducklings" are growing older.

Last night a strong line of storms moved through and I was uncharacteristically nervous about it because none of my kids were home. As the dark clouds were bearing down from the west and the super doppler alerts were issuing new warnings every minute, my oldest son Joe was driving home from night class in Ankeny. A quick text confirmed that he would be home before the weather got bad here in town. 

Ben was at the high school softball game. Being a pretty independent guy, he doesn't love it when his mom tries to keep tabs on his wearabouts. I went for the subtle approach, texting, "Since the storm is moving in, let me know when you get safe inside somewhere". A few minutes later, he responded, "I'm inside." Of course, the Mother Duck in me couldn't settle for that, so I replied, "where?" Apparently I pushed too far, because I got no answer. 

Sam was at camp a half-hour northwest of here. Since checking in on him was not possible, I said a prayer that this strong line of storms would somehow miss Hidden Acres and the camp would be protected. My eyes stayed glued to the radar, as if my vigil would somehow affect the path of the storm.

Today, even though the sun is shining, I am heartsick for the families whose sons were boy scouts, and who won't be coming home from a camp in Western Iowa. Those parents would probably give about anything for an abrupt two-word text message from their son.

Later I read the  blog from the camp director at my son's camp about their experience in the storm. It confirmed what I knew in my heart all along. Sam was in good hands, and probably just as secure at camp as he would have been at home with me. Having my kids beside me during every storm just isn't possible anymore. As much as I want to,  I can't protect them from the weather or the world by tucking them under my wing.  

A Close Call at Camp

Today Perry and I took Sam to church camp. It's a wonderful place a half hour northwest of here called Hidden Acres. The camp directors are friends of ours from church, and all of our boys have loved spending time there. They love the swimming pond, climbing tower, zip line, and now there is a neat new indoor facility with a gym and swimming pool. The program is well run, and the boys come home from a week at camp with a neat new perspective on their faith.

Sam was counting the days and minutes until it was time to leave. A few months ago, we had signed him up with a a friend, which always makes the experience more comfortable and eliminates any homesickness. We even coordinated arrival times with the friend's family so the boys could get settled in to their cabin together. 

As we pulled up to the main building, Sam and I hurried to the check-in line. It was a little later than we had hoped to arrive and we imagined his friend, Storm would be wondering where we were. Sam gave his name to the counselor with the clip board. She scanned up and down the list, double checked the spelling of his name, then replied, "I don't see you on the list." My heart went cold at those words, and my brain went on mental rewind. Of course he's on the list, I registered him online, back in March, I reassured myself.  I could have kicked myself for forgetting to bring the confirmation letter, then I tried to remember where I'd put the confirmation letter... and finally wondered if I'd ever seen a confirmation letter. 

The teenage employee went back to the office to check with the director, and I tried to act calm so Sam wouldn't see that my mind was spinning in a panic. After the counselor returned, she sent me inside to Dede's office, who told me they didn't have any registration for Sam on their computer. My heart stopped beating as I imagined having to take a disappointed boy home in the car, but before I could react, she calmly told us that they would simply add his name and he could stay for camp.  She checked the list of boys in Sam's friend's cabin and God must have been smiling on us. There was one open bunk in that cabin, so Sam would even be able to say with his friend as he'd planned. I felt myself breathe again, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude at her flexibility and understanding.

We finally caught up with Storm, who had been trying to tell the counselor that he was waiting for his friend Sam (who didn't appear to exist). We explained everything to the counselor, who good naturedly welcomed my son into the group, much to my relief.

I came home and checked my computer, but found no sign of any email confirmation, so either there was a glitch with the web site or I made a mistake in some part of the online registration. I feel so stupid, realizing that a careless oversight on my part could have caused Sam to miss out on his week at church camp. Tonight I am thanking God for the way everything worked out for Sam, and feeling sure that He's got a lesson in all this for me.

Good Help is Hard to Find

I know the problem is universal, but it still frustrates me....teenagers who stay up half the night, sleep half the day, and are virtually no help around the house. When Joe is home from college, and the boys and I are all home during the day, the amount of dishes and laundry that that we go through is unbelievable. I feel like all I've done since school got out is load and unload the washer and dishwasher.

Over the years, I've tried a lot of different ways to get my kids to help around the house. Making lists, setting deadlines, giving reminders, and then making a few threats- none of these have proven to be very effective. Getting my kids to participate in the daily housework routine leaves me feeling like some sort of parole officer. Anytime Sam is asked to do a job, he always happens to be in the middle of his all-time favorite tv show (what a coincidence) and he promises to do it the minute the show is over. The problem with Disney and other cable networks he watches is the way they show marathons of the same tv show. It's nearly impossible to tell when one episode ends and the next one begins.

Ben either has a serious memory problem and forgets everything I ask him to do, or he is ignoring me. (Bets anyone??)

The last time Joe emptied the dishwasher, I heard him laughing and confessing to Perry as he unloaded, "I don't remember where this stuff goes, so I just put it anywhere". I know what he's doing...purposely trying to frustrate me by putting the measuring cups are in the cupboard with the plastic leftover containers. He's assuming that when the top to the crock pot can't be found because he put it next to the cookie sheets that I will just give up and quit asking him to help around the house.

It's early in the summer yet, so I'm going to keep insisting that they pitch in. They are members of this family, and they need to help with the dishes and laundry. I can persevere, that is, if I can find the filter basket for the coffee pot....

Out for the Summer!

 Well, it's finally here...the first day of summer vacation! The past couple of weeks have passed in a frantic blur... special end-of-the-year activities, piles of end-of-the-year reports and files to update. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day to get everything done, yet it also seemed like June 3rd would never get here. It was especially hard when I knew other schools were out for the summer and we were still plugging away.

A few days ago, I started "the list"... two lists, actually, of the projects I want to work on and things I want to get done over the summer. I'm not the kind of person who is ever content to just be lazy and "play" all summer. I like to reorganize my classroom stuff, always trying to get a better system in place for all the math manipulatives, literacy centers and science unit materials. I'm never satisfied with the way I keep records and assessments of my students' work, and each summer I try to "tweak" the forms I have used to make them more convenient, and report card time less hectic and stressful. It's fun for me to search for and collect new ideas for school activities.

My home list consists of cleaning things I don't seem to get to during the school year, organizing closets & cupboards, fixing or replacing things that are broken, trying new recipes, yard work, and shopping for specific items for the house that may take a bit of hunting to find. I also hope to get a lot of scrapbooking and reading done this summer.

This morning, my brain is in a fog, and I don't quite know what to do with myself. It may take me a while to shift down to a different daily pace. Instead of starting each day like I've been shot out of a cannon, I can take the time to putter around the house and consider the possibilities. 

Hmmm.....think I'll have another cup of coffee....

Sugar Baby

Have you ever heard of the book, Sixth Grade Sugar Babies? My son's teacher read it to the class, and all the students wanted to do their own Sugar Baby activity. They would carry around a sack of sugar for at least 24 hours with the purpose of understanding what a huge responsibility it is to care for an infant. Sam seemed enthused about the project when he explained it to me, so we went to the store and bought the 4 pound sack of sugar. His enthusiasm was was dampened when the class drew slips of paper to find out whether their sugar baby would be a boy or a girl. Sam's slip of paper said, "Its a girl" which he thought made no sense whatsoever.

The students had the option of dressing their "baby" (now grudgingly named Olivia) in baby clothes, so he went through a few boxes of baby clothes  I've saved to find something that looked like a girl would wear. He came up the stairs with a white sweater in hand (part of a baptism outfit, I think) After a few tries at dressing this armless sack of sugar, he gave up, opting for a simple flannel receiving blanket. 

After school, he and his baby got off the bus, having survived the school day together. He observed that for most of the girls in his class, it had been a chance to relive the years of playing dolls. They had babies that were fully accessorized, with outfit changes and mini-car seats. He came home mildly annoyed and still not sure where the head was supposed to be on a sack of sugar.

According to the directions of the assignment, if the student couldn't carry their baby along, they had to get a babysitter. There was NO way he was hauling "Olivia" along on his paper route, so I was appointed as the caretaker of the sugar. It had been a long day at school, so I willingly took it upstairs for a nap. 

That night, we were getting ready to go to a graduation party, and Sam started thinking about how he was going to manage his "baby". "Can I just leave it in the car?" he wondered aloud. After considering his teacher's directions to treat the sugar like a real baby, he concluded that wouldn't be an option. He made one phone call to a friend he could count on NOT to laugh, but that potential babysitter wasn't home. I made one final suggestion. "Maybe you'll be like most new parents and stay home from the party." 

He stayed home from the party. Tomorrow he has to take it to school once more so that each student can prove that their "baby" survived the weekend. 

After that, Sam has decided that we're making cookies out of "Olivia."

Field Trip

Since the budget cuts in our school district have eliminated all out of town field trip possibilities, I decided to get creative. This week I walked my class to Papa Murphy's, which is only a few blocks from our school. We are studying community helpers and I thought it would be fun for the kids to learn about the job of making and selling pizza.

My son Ben works there part time, and I was able to get permission from his school to have him join us for the tour. My students absolutely loved getting to watch him make pizza and see how the ingredients were prepped in the back room. It really grabbed my heartstrings to see my first graders looking up to a "big" teenager. They think Ben walks on water, and seeing him in a workplace created quite an impression with them. Ben got a kick out of meeting my class and seeing their excitement. He probably doesn't realize it, but he is a role model to these little people. 

Ben was a good sport to be a part of this first grade field trip, but I can't help but wonder if, in the long run, he will benefit even more from the experience than the little ones did.

Finally Got It!

Ever since the eggs hatched, I've been spending a little too much time lurking inconspicuously at the porch window with my camera, hoping to snap a picture of the mother robin with her babies. 

She doesn't appreciate my intrusion, and always flies away angrily the split second she detects movement at the window. When she's away, the babies burrow their heads down in the nest and don't look very photogenic.

I feel a little guilty....like the bird paparazzi or something....stalking this poor mother as she tries to go about her everyday life, causing emotional distress while she looks out for her babies' welfare. She never asked to be the subject of so much attention, yet this photographer's need to get the perfect shot seemed to be more important than her need for privacy and security.

It's doubtful that I'm an exceptional photographer, and it's more likely she did what many sought-after celebrities do....posed for a picture hoping I'd go away and leave her alone.