The Lumberjack's Wife

Last week, I went out after work to socialize with my teacher-ly friends.  Because I do that now. This was very exciting because I was able to be all grown up and I was not in charge of and/or responsible for any persons other than myself.  This is the sort of the thing that excites me know.  Eating food and talking to humans without having to use my stern voice.

When I came home to David and the children, a bit of chaos was ensuing.  David seemed . . . stressed.  Can I just say that it brings me a bit of satisfaction when I see that the children stress David out upon occasion?  Because, my life.  Anyways, I came home to the girls trying (not too successfully) to bake a cake and the house was a disaster.  Backpacks!  Lunch boxes!  Papers!  Socks!  Everywhere! I was informed by my beloved that the boys were not allowed inside at all.  They were to be outside picking up dog poop because they, and I quote, “had not been listening” to their father.

My boys?  Not listening?  Unheard of.

Oh!  And did I forget to mention that David had brought home 30 chicks? Silly me.

I didn’t realize we were even in the market for chicks.  Because we already have at least 40-50 chickens roaming about the property.  But, ok.

So, there was also a brooder box, heat lamp, and 30 fuzzy friends in my living room as well.  And all of these events will cause me to truly contemplate if I should go out with teacher friends again after work and eat delicious food in peace.

Handsome Dude has been working on a chick hatching project for the science fair.  And two days after David brought home 30 chicks, HD hatched four more chicks.

He got third place at the science fair!

Then the boys talked us into letting them buy ducks.  (They are very convincing.  I am not sure how this all happened)

Meet Charlie and Marley.

But that’s not all, folks.

I got my Ms. Frizzle (of Magic School Bus Fame) on and hatched . . . wait for it . . . NINE chicks in my classroom.  As if I could not be any cooler.  The students were over the moon excited.  Last year, when I hatched chicks in Kindergarten, my kiddos loved them, but were able to still function and learn.  Not this group of second graders.  They cannot combine academics with chirping chicks.

One of my students fell out of her chair three times on egg hatching day because she was so distracted.

Here are a few of them:

Oh, everyone thinks I am THE chicken expert at work.  I  impress them with my knowledge and fancy vocabulary by using words such as, but not limited to:

Black Copper Maran

Buff Orphington

Rhode Island Red

Egg tooth

Air Pocket

Chalaza

Albumen

And more!

I also impress them with my mad skills of removing chicks from incubators and the knowledge that you should not remove the chick from the incubator until it is all dried out, fluffy, and basically looks like a chick and not an alien (like it does when it is first born).

I tell David:  “Everyone thinks I am so smart at work!  I am THE FARM AND RANCH GURU!”

David:  “That is very sad.”

I agree.  But I am enjoying my moment.

My living room smells like a petting zoo.  I had to eat my breakfast in my bedroom yesterday because the smell was too much.

What’s that?  You don’t have a passel of chicks and ducks in YOUR living room?  Well, not everyone can live such a glamorous life as I.

***

Spring break has now begun.  I just finished up with parent teacher conferences.  I never feel qualified enough to be doing a parent teacher conference.  But I give it a good effort!

I had a new kiddo start a couple months ago.  When I first met his parents, I wasn’t sure if they were going to like me.  Because the dad said:

“At his last school, his teacher was a male.  Our son really connected with him and prefers male teachers.”

Well, that’s just setting me up for failure.  And I responded brilliantly by saying something like,

“Well!  I am not a male teacher!  But I am glad to have him in my class!”

Impressive, no?

Why do parents say such things?  Parents!  Focus!

But at his conference this week, they were all smiles and sunshine and seem to have come to peace with the fact that I am not a male teacher.

I also have a new ESL (English Second Language) student.  I had a conference with her mama and an interpreter.  And I heart this new kiddo so much.  She is so hilarious and amazing and works her little hiney off to learn our confusing language.

I had a fun time trying to teach her the difference between a vowel and a consonant the other day.  She humored me by pretending to understand what I was saying, but I am pretty sure I flopped it.

BUT I DID TEACH HER CONTRACTIONS.  And I feel that is noteworthy.

She is precious to my heart.

***

Daisy Mae is 12 and Handsome Dude is 9.  They had birthdays this week.  I cannot believe how old my kids are getting, and, how old I am getting.

Me to HD:  You need to rewrite that paragraph in your homework.  It is too sloppy.

HD:  WHY?!?!?!?!?!?

Me:  Because God made me the mom.

HD:  YOU DON’T EVEN LOOK LIKE A MOM!  YOU LOOK LIKE A BIG TEENAGER GIRL!

Oh, he got in some trouble for his sass.  But I secretly enjoyed the fact that he thinks I look like a teenager.

Happy Friday!

David’s new pig plan, or as I like to call it, “Pigtopia” is well underway.

He has built five separate pens for his dear swine.  He currently has 26 of the little porkers.  I saw him looking on Craigslist today, and I noticed some concerning words.  Words such as, but not limited to, “Fully-bred Sow” and “$400.”

Oh, mylanta.

Craigslist.  It’s how David does all of his shopping.  He found a new camp trailer on his fave site just last weekend.  Allow me to tell you the tale:

First, we have a camp trailer.  It is a toy hauler.  It is fine. We don’t need a new one.

But David wants a new camp trailer.  It MUST be a toy hauler.  We cannot budge from this.  He also wants to upgrade our bed from a full to a queen.  I think he feels that he is 35 years old now and deserves a spacious bed for camping.  As all 35 year old men do.

He found such a toy hauler on The Craigslist.  The price?  $11,900.   So, we had to get in the rig and go take a look-see.

Me:  $11,900?

David:  I am not paying over $10,000.

Me:  I want to go on a cruise.

*birds chirping*

So, we get to the dealership and the general manager tells David he doesn’t want this trailer.

*Ahem*

Nobody tells David what he wants.

David:  Why not?

GM:  Well, it’s a mess.  Somebody went through it and ripped a bunch of stuff out of it.  I can’t sell it and I am not putting any more money into it.

David:  Well, can I look at it?  Will you sell it to me?

GM:  Yeah.

David:  What are you thinking price wise?

GM:  Well, I paid $6000.  And I don’t mind losing money on it.

It was at this moment, dear readers, that I knew we were done for.  We were going to buy ourselves a trailer.  Or at least 3/4 of a trailer.

So, we looked at it.  It was missing quite a bit of things.  It was dirty.  The mattresses needed to be taken to the dump immediately.

But it was a deal.  And David loves his deals.  And he got it for $4500.

Oh, he was basking in his glory.  He was the talk of the whole dealership.  Salesmen were coming from near and far to see David: the man, the myth, the legend, who had purchased a toy hauler (or 3/4 of a toy hauler) for the low low price of $4,5oo.

Salesman to David:  You are winning, man!  Anyone who walks in here and buys a toy hauler for $4,500 is winning at life!

So, there you go.

David has a project when he is finished with Pigtopia.  Because he has time for that.

***

I cashed in my “Good Wife Bonus” and had him buy me a new dining room set.  Oh!  Have you not heard of the “Good Wife Bonus?”

I just made it up!

And I awarded it to myself since I had “been cool” with the whole 3/4 of a trailer purchase.  I wish I would have thought of this earlier in life.  I probably would have been on a cruise by now.  Or a trip to Europe.

Guess where we bought the dining set from?

Craigslist.

IT HAS 8 CHAIRS, PEOPLE.

****

My phone died yesterday.  David bought me a new phone.  Guess where he bought it from.

Go ahead.

Guess.

****

This morning, we were late for church, as per our usual custom.  I hopped it the bathroom to take a quick shower and the water was hot like lava.  I tried to turn it to cold, but, alas, no water came out.  David, the genius that he is, knew that it was the “valve” (huh?) and we would have to go to the Home Depot after church. (NOT Craigslist.  Shocking)

My husband is THE MAN.  And he knows how to do all things.  I don’t know how he knows such things.  He just does.

2 weeks ago:  Our sewage pump broke.  (Gross)  He got right into the tank that holds our sewage (gross), took buckets and removed the waste water (gross), figured out the problem (gross), bought a new pump (CRAIGSLIST! I am telling you!  It is his one stop shop!), installed it, and didn’t bat an eye.

Me:  What if you die!  What if you die and I come home and the sewage is broken and how will I know what to do?  WHO WILL I CALL?  WHOSE JOB IS THIS?

David:  Just move to town.

Mmmm-hmmm.

***

So, tonight.  Tonight, I was making meals for the week.  This is what I must do now.  Just cook all the meals on Sunday.  It’s either that or cereal.  As I am cooking THREE MEALS (because I am a wife who is worth more than fine rubies) Little Dude shows me his homework that he forgot about.

LD:  Mom!  I have to make a leprechaun trap.  And write a paragraph about how it works.

What the what?  Who has time for this?  Not me.

Thankfully, LD has a big sister who was on it.

But then, I remembered.

I AM A TEACHER.  I am responsible for St. Patrick’s day joy for my 24 little pumpkins.  Folks, this is something I do not have time for.  I mean, I need to teach them how to read, do math, and write things.  I do not have time for trapping leprechauns!  I have already reached my “Creative Teacher Limit” by starting a unit on the Rainforest.   AND we are hatching chicks.  That is all I can do.  That’s it.

For the love.

So, now I must log off and try to decide if I am going to care about St. Patrick’s Day.

Happy Sunday!

Some days as a parent are hard to deal with.  Wednesday was one such day.  First of all, the morning routine will be the death of me, I kid you  not.  I do not understand why THE CHILDREN must make this so difficult.

These are the reminders I must give my male offspring daily:

Get out of bed.

Please get out of bed.

Get off the floor.

Go upstairs.

No sleeping at the counter.  Make your breakfast.

No sleeping on the couch.  Make your breakfast.

Here.  I have made your breakfast.  Please eat it.

Why do we have to walk around with a blanket over our bodies all morning?  Why not put on a pajama shirt to begin with?

Please eat.

Can we work on aiming and/or flushing when using the toilet?

WASH YOUR HANDS.

EAT YOUR BREAKFAST.

Get in the shower.  I don’t care if you don’t want to go first.  Today is your lucky day.  Your brother will go downstairs, make his bed, and pick out his clothes.

Please go to the bathroom before you get in the shower.

You are taking too long in the shower.

Get out.

Get out.

Get out.

I am going to remove you soon from the shower if you do not get out.

(Meanwhile, brother has not heeded my instructions to make his bed and pick out his clothes.  He is shirtless, wrapped in a blanket, sleeping by the fire.  EVERY. DAY.  Every day, people.  Everyday.)

To the boy who just got out of the shower:  Do not lay naked by the fire.  Get dressed quickly.

To the boy who was just laying by the fire:  You are making us late.  Get in the shower.

(This boy has forgotten to pee before the shower.  He chooses to get out mid shower and pee.  His accuracy is lacking and there is now water all over the floor.)

You are taking too long in the shower.

Get out.

Get out.

Get out.

I am going to remove you soon from the shower if you do not get out.

(Meanwhile, the other boy is . . . wait for it . . . . laying naked by the fire.)

***

Seriously.  I just can’t anymore.  Then I have to take away their tablets for the LONG car ride to school because they didn’t listen.  Again. Which I feel is more of a punishment for me.  Anyways, throw in the girls fighting about whose hairbrush is whose and “Why is she looking at me so RUDELY, MOOOOM?” sprinkled with requests for me to French braid hair, and I am over the day by 6:30am.

So, I get them to school and then I go to my school where I mold and shape young minds.

Now it is 4pm.  At this point in the afternoon, I am tired, hungry, and I just want to go home.  But we have the basketball.

Basketball season is kicking my hiney, friends.  I am ready to leave town by 4:30 or 5 again.  This staying until 6-7pm business is no bueno.

Little Dude had a basketball game on Wednesday night.  Before the game, I must remind him to, please, not shoot granny shots.  He is in 2nd grade and no one else on his team is still shooting the granny shot.  Let me assure you that Little Dude is fully capable of shooting a basketball the correct way and, alas, even scored during his last game using the correct method.

But Little Dude likes to march to the beat of his own drum.  And he attempted about FIVE granny shots during the game.  And he was 0 for 5.

And his shorts were on backwards.  (He finds it more comfortable this way.)

Just whatever, man.

After the game, we made our journey home.  Little Dude’s job is to get the eggs.  We have provided each of our children with a pair of mud boots for all farm and ranch chores.

Mud boots have been provided to them for about 5 years, folks.  This is not a new tradition.

Little Dude chose to wore my Danskos to go and gather the eggs.

I just can’t deal, friends.

Needless to say, with weeks like these, I am 100% done by Friday nights.  I was trying to explain it to David.

I am so tired.  But not really physically tired.  My brain is tired.  If people try to speak information to me or ask questions or me or basically try to require me to think at all after 4pm on Friday, I look at them as if they are insane, crazy peoples.

Last night (Friday), I was asleep by 7:45.  I slept all the way until 6:15am.

It was heavenly.

Happy Weekend!

This week has been a bit stressful.  Since I am a new teacher, I need to be observed three times over the school year.  Three.  THREE!  THREEEEEEE.  I had my second one two days ago.  I get myself all worked up over these observations.  It is very nerve-wracking to have your principal watching you for 45 minutes.  It makes you look around your classroom and second guess every single teaching decision you have ever made.

(source)

Oh, well.  I survived.  I haven’t gotten any feedback, yet.  But as far as I know, I still have the job, so it must have gone ok.  Ha.  I kid!  I jest!

So, I had the observation, plus I have been working on some paperwork (blah blah blah) for work that I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW TO DO.  In fact, I have been “working on” said paperwork all afternoon.  It goes a little something like this:

Look at paper.

Die inside.

Look for chocolate.  We don’t have chocolate.

Look at paper.

Check Facebook.  Check email.  Check work email.

Look at paper.

Search harder for chocolate.  Find chocolate chips!

Look at paper.

Die inside.  Write one sentence.  Begin self-loathing from stupidity.

Go back to pantry for more chocolate chips.

Check the news.  Fold a load of laundry.

Delete first sentence.  Rewrite sentence.  Die inside.

Finish bag of chocolate chips.  Start stressing about swimsuit season.  Write a blog post.

I am happy to report that after two hours, I am about 1/8 done filling out my important paperwork.  And I have a stomachache.  And no more chocolate chips.

***

Here’s a quick and random list of some of the goings-on in our world:

1.  David is currently working on Pig-Topia.  We will soon have five separate pig pens.  Sadly, all pens are close to the house.  Things are gonna get stinky.
2. We currently have 26 pigs.  I want you to think about that for a few minutes.  TWENTY-SIX.  Feel bad for me.
3. Nobody in our family cares much for bacon.  It’s a good thing we have such an abundance of pork!
4. Little Dude made his first basket in a real basketball game this week.  He was telling everyone it was a three-pointer (not even close), but they only count every shot as a two pointer when you are in second grade.
5. Handsome Dude has gotten to be quite the helper with his dad outside.  I am 100% convinced that this child is stronger than I am and is a better farm and ranch helper to his Pa then I will ever be.
6. The girls made the honor roll first semester at their new school.  They worked very hard!
7. I have no idea what grade I will be teaching next year.  This is stressing me out, man.  I am hoping for 2nd again, but I am not sure it will happen.  I will be able to stay at the same school.
8. My students all think I am in my 20’s!  This is delightful news, as I will be 35 this summer.
9. 35!!!!!!!!
10. We still have chickens.  We are probably going to hatch some eggs here soon.  We have free time for stuff like that.

Alright.  I am going to work on another sentence on my important paperwork.

Wish me luck!

Well, friends.  Life is getting easier.  Back in October, I didn’t think we were going to survive this new way of life.  But here we are.

Still alive.

Barely.

Our day starts around 4:30am.  David, the fine gent that he is, goes and makes us a cup of coffee or tea and we start our showers.  Then we wake the children around 5:30 and start them on their showers while David fixes the other kids breakfast.  The children love waking up this early and come bounding up the stairs full of sunshine and pleasantness. As most kids would. David leaves by 5:50am and the kids and I leave between 6:30 and 6:45.

The girls arrive at their school around 7:30.  I take the boys to their school right after that.  Luckily, the boys school and the girls school are about 2 minutes apart.

The school I teach at is about 10 minutes from them.  I get there early enough to work on all my teacher-ly duties.  I am loving teaching 2nd grade.

After school can get a bit hectic, especially since the kids started basketball season.  We are usually in town until anywhere from 6-8pm, and then we trek home.  We do dinner, homework, and packing lunches and don’t even have to argue with the kids about going to bed.  For they are so ready.  Most nights, the kids don’t even have time for T.V.  When they are not in basketball, we get home earlier and there is more time for relaxing.

We are tired.  We spend a fortune in gas.  We eat a lot of snacks in the car.  Our car is nasty-gross.  But we are happy.  The kids are all in really great schools and have made wonderful, kind friends.  The girls have started a prayer group that meets twice a week before school starts, and it has grown quite a bit.  Handsome Dude was placed in advanced math, and I am excited that A)  His school offers advanced math and B)  MY BOY IS IN ADVANCED MATH.

This was the child that hid under the table from me during homeschooling because I asked him to trace the letter “Z.”

My boy!  Advanced!  Who knew?!

I am getting used to my new grade and my new district.  The staff is kind and supportive, which is everything a teacher needs in this life.

There is a day that I cannot forget from my homeschooling years.  It was back in the spring of when Sweet Pea would have been in 4th, Daisy Mae, 3rd, Handsome Dude K (and very difficult) and Little Dude in K as well (because ain’t nobody got time to teach preK, too.)  It was in the afternoon, and it was that time of day when the sunlight is almost gone.  Snow had started to fall, which was discouraging because it was APRIL.  I had gone downstairs to put a log on the fire.  The kids were upstairs finishing up their school work.  I had just gotten done looking, once again, at the website for the charter school that I really wanted my kids to attend.  I could not figure out how on earth I would ever get them there.  The 45 minute commute was too much.  How could I afford the gas?  What would I do in town all day while they were at school?  Someone had told me that I had waited too long to teach . . . no one would ever hire me.  I assumed it would never happen.  I remember staring out that window and praying that if it could happen, God would make it happen.

I can’t help but look over the events of these past three years and see how God DID make it happen.  He led me to put my kids in the local school, even though it seemed so scary at the time.  He led me to start subbing.  Through the kindness and support of other teachers, I learned a great deal about teaching during that year.  I was hired for Kindergarten.  While I loved the staff at the school, I could see it was not the best school for my kids to be in.  It was scary, but I applied to get my girls into that Charter school, still not knowing how I would get them there.  They got in!  Then I applied for a job in that same district.  Getting a job in this district seemed impossible, and yet, I got one.  And here I am.  My girls are going to that school.  My boys are at an amazing school right down the road from them.  And I, the girl who stayed at home for 11 years after getting her teaching degree, am teaching at a great school.

I feel very thankful and blessed.  And tired.  But I am glad my kids are in wonderful schools and I really enjoy teaching.  Homeschooling was great for us for a time, and I am glad we did it.  But I am thankful we are where we are now.

***

Before I go, I had to share this story about the boys:

We were at the girls’ basketball game and the boys had been gone for a suspiciously long time. (This can never be good)
I find them in an abandoned hallway with a tennis ball. Which is odd because we didn’t come with a tennis ball.
Me: Where did you get that ball?
Little Dude (proudly): In the bathroom.
Me: That doesn’t mean you can have it. Put it back.
Little Dude: Moooooom!
Handsome Dude: Mom. He got that ball from the toilet.
Me: What?!
Little Dude: It’s OK, Mom! I washed it off. With soap!
Me: NO NO NO! Don’t ever take stuff out of toilets! Ever! No! Everybody is washing their hands NOW!
***
Happy Monday!

Halloween costumes are the bane of my existence.  Basically, I don’t care.  A lack of care, creativity, time, and money can put a damper on your kids’ Halloween joy.

Little Dude is the winner winner chicken dinner.  He would like to be Spiderman, which is exactly what he was last year.

Score!

His teacher gave him a homework assignment over the weekend.  He was to write 3 sentences to give her clues as to what he was going to be for Halloween.  He wrote his three, and then he ran and grabbed his Spiderman book.  And for further writing inspiration, he also donned his costume.

He wrote about 20 sentences and then decided to go on a hunt for all things Spiderman in the house.

He is still on that hunt.  And he is still in full costume. 1 hour later.

Hunting season is in full season around here.  David already went on his 10 day trip.  Little Dude got to go with him for a bit, then Handsome Dude got to go for a bit.  The hunting trips aren’t as hard on me as they used to be, with the kids being older and me working full time.  It was rough back in ye olden days when the kids were little and I stayed home.

The boys really like going with him.  I am getting the impression from David that they are not as quiet as he would like them to be.

Spiderman Update:  He has not turned off all the lights and is running around the house with a flashlight.

Why?  No one knows.

David rented an excavator and has started the process for the new pig pens.  He is expanding the pig business.

Are we surprised?  No.  No, we are not.

We all knew it was bound to happen.  Pretty soon, the whole darn back 40 will be covered with swine.  Its only a matter of time.

Spiderman Update:  Spiderman is feeling defeated because Spidermom told him to clean up his room.

Life is calming down a bit.  We are getting into a better routine.  The girls are getting slightly better at managing their homework.  I am feeling more connected at my new school.  Still not loving the commute, though. The boys are doing well at their new school.  Handsome Dude is uber proud of himself because he was awarded a medal for running the most miles in cross country this year . . . 29.2 miles.

I would bet many dollars that I have never run 29.2 miles in my entire life.

Handsome Dude wears his medal everywhere.

Spiderman Update:  Spiderman is MIA.  Spidermom thinks that cleaning his room is not at the top of his priority list for the day.

Happy Sunday!

To be honest, life has been challenging lately.  Our switch to commuting to schools 45 minutes away has been harder than I thought.  The girls’ new school is very rigorous and they each have about three hours of homework a night.  I expressed concern this week and a few of the teachers are helping the girls a bit, so hopefully that part will get better.  I am overwhelmed teaching a new grade in a new building.  I have made some nice, new friends, but I sure miss my friends from my old school . . . and my students.  It has been a tough season for me.  I am hoping our decision to commute was the right thing to do.  Hopefully life will settle into a better routine soon.

The girls have had pretty good attitudes regarding their homework.  Daisy Mae is pretty much hilarious.  She will work for a couple hours and then announce it is time for a “cartwheel break.”

She usually studies her vocabulary words while doing headstands.

Little Dude got to go and a short hunting trip with David and David’s dad.  David sent me this picture of Grandpa and Little Dude out in the woods.

Even though David prepared him that he needed to BE QUIET, Little Dude simply could  not.  He talks about a mile a minute.  ALL THE TIME.  For realz.  I am not sure he will be a successful hunter.

Speaking of Little Dude, the other night he came up to me after he had finished brushing his teeth.

Me:  Goodnight, Dude.

LD:  See you in the morning!  Unless I get in trouble for not going to bed!

Ha.  Story of his life.

***

Because the universe is against me, the kids have decided to build their own pig pen.

I KNOW, right?  FEEL BAD FOR MEEEEEE.

Me:  David, I don’t want pigs in two different places on our property.

David:  They aren’t going to even be able to pound the t-posts into the ground deep enough.  Its not going to work.  Don’t worry.

Well.  Little does he know.

They did that in one afternoon.  And for a few fleeting, glorious hours, my children WORKED TOGETHER without fighting.   It was a beautiful collaboration of the minds.  And apparently, Daisy Mae can really pound t-posts into the ground.  She is a force to be reckoned with.

The pigs will now be located in two locations on our property.  The smell will be able to waft in no matter which way the wind blows.

Be jealous.

David took the kids “hunting” on  our property last weekend.  And by hunting, I mean a long walk.  At one point, Handsome Dude fell down a hill.  According to the girls, he was tumbling over and over.  He was upset and shouted, “Dad!  I roll like a deer!”

Then, they had to climb up a steep hill.  David and the girls made it up, but the boys were having issues.

Does this surprise us?  No.  It does not.

While David and the girls were waiting, Little Dude shouted up at them, “GUYS!  How come no one is CHEERING for me?”

I would like to report that no animals, small or large, were harmed during the making of this hunting trip.  The fab four were too loud.  And dramatic.

***

I am supposed to be lesson planning.  But here I am.  Blogging. I did just finish up all my grading, however.  Which is something you should admire me for.

I have a “challenging” student.  While the kids were taking their math test, I noticed he had gotten the right answer, but had forgotten to show his work.  Which I had already told the kids to do.  Three times.  (Welcome to teaching!)

I told him I needed to see HOW he solved it.  He said ok, and started to write, so I walked away.

I was just grading them and got quite the chuckle when I got to his math test.

.

I JOOST NO (I just know)

Ha.

***

There is a turkey feather under my bed.  I have no idea how it got there.

Just kidding.

It has to be Little Dude.

***

David is trying to expand the pig business.

That’s all I want to say about that.

***

Little Dude’s teacher emailed to ask if it is normal for him to want to go to the bathroom several times a day and make bubbles with the soap instead of heading quickly back to class.

Let us pray that the Lord will give her strength as she tries to guide my little, not-so-focused man through 2nd grade.

I think I need to buy her a gift.

***

I am really tired.  I am happy with the kids being in new schools, but this routine is kicking my hiney.  I hope it all comes together soon.

My neck still hurts.