This is just to say...

I love nicknames. They are so personal and endearing. If I have given you one, it means I love you.

A little life music...

I'd like to think I have a life filled with music. My ipod is a constant companion. I hum to myself. I sing. I play the guitar a little and pretend I am Gillian Welch or Patty Griffin. I play the piano and think I missed my chance at true greatness. I listen for life's underpinings, for the melody of things, for the songs running underneath. Sometimes in the stillness I can hear the earth humming and I can hear the song of sparrows in their black fall and flight.

I listen to a variety of music and I guess I have, what you could call, exacting tastes. I tend prefer girl voices. I always prefer acoustic. I like songs heavy on guitar, piano, and discorded melodies. Poetic lyrics, a certain amount of angst, a certain amount of hope, a message that means something to me will be played more often than others.

There are a few songs I listen to at least once a day. I have listened to them hundreds of times, which means I have literally spent hours listening to the same song. I never grow tired of them. It makes me think they mean something or they say something I want to say, but can't. Either way they make me happy and that is about all someone should ask for.

P.S. If you want to try a few, some of my daily staples are:

Wait by Alexi Murdock

Falling Slowly and Low Rising by The Swell Season (If you don't know this band, you should)!

Mother of God by Patty Griffin

How Will He Find Me by Deb Talan

A happy reunion...

My grandpa died last Thursday. It has been a sad time. We were always close. I spent a few weeks every summer with him and my grandma. There were visits throughout the year as well. From him I inherited my dry sense of humor, my love of things growing, my tendency to collect and keep things beyond their usefulness, my real laugh. He called me, his sweet girl.

Since my dad died, I have felt even closer to him. He has been, more than before, the father figure in my life. Talking to him was almost like talking to my dad and though our conversations were different, I didn't always tell him everything, I could hear my dad's voice through him. I could hear what my dad would say as if I was actually talking to him. It made losing my dad more tolerable. Now, I will miss those conversations.

My grandpa's death is easier to understand than my dad's. He was eighty-seven, which by most standards is a good, long life. He made it a good life: doing many things, going many places, being many things to many different people. He was ready to go. A few weeks ago he told me, I've been away at school, now it almost time to go home.

I am also comforted by the fact that his death was also a happy reunion. He was reunited with my dad, my Uncle Val (who died a few years before my dad), my Aunt Pauline (who they lost as a baby), his parents, and many others. It too must have been a time of tears, just a different sort. It too must be a time of reflection and memories. I cannot be sad about that.

Happy homecoming, Grandpa.

A lesson from the single life...

I don't usually begrudge the fact I'm in my thirties and single. This is largely due to the fact that I feel like my life is full and beautiful. I have many talents. I've been given many gifts. I am industrious and hard working. I learned long ago the quiet joy found in being alone. I also learned to be alone. I am generous. I am honest. I know myself and I like keeping company with myself. I have wonderful family and many friends.

The above self realizations make my life fulfilling, even if it isn't exactly what I planned for it to be. I do still want to be married and to have babies of my own, but I am also content to know that they will come in their own time, in their own way.

The above self realizations have also made me picky in choosing a partner. Maybe because I have found contentment in my life as it is, I am not rushing towards a life that isn't just as satisfying or beautiful. In other words, I am looking for an asset, not a liability. I am looking for a partner, not a piranha. I am looking for an equal, not perfect, but at least equitable. I will settle for nothing less.

This resolve was reinforced on Saturday night when I attended the party of a friend. I knew almost no one there, except for the girls throwing the party. So, I was fortunate enough to spend the time talking to them and watching everything else going on. What I observed was a room full of beautiful, educated, articulate, successful women with degrees and professions and self awareness trying to make conversation with sub-par and very awkward men. Two of them couldn't stop talking about Star Wars. One of them made up some persona about being a make up artist. (In Utah, really)? The others stood awkwardly silent unless asked a question. From the conversations I heard none of them had valid or valuable professions or interesting lives. In fact, beyond their membership in the church, there was not a single attractive thing about any of them.

If this resonates as bitterness, I promise it isn't. If it sounds trite and contrived, it isn't that either. It was just an evening of observations that reconfirmed my resolve to find an asset and not settle for anything less. Because, dear hearts, do you really want to spend eternity, or even a lifetime, with a doldrum?

Quotes from Kindergarten...

Today, while coloring, the following conversation occurred...

Kindergartener: Miss B, today we will go to church after my mom comes home from work.
Me: Why are you going to church today?
K: I don't know...to see a boy.
Me: A boy? What boy?
K: I don't know his name. He is up on the wall.
Me: You mean Jesus?
K: No, I don't think that's the one.
Me: Are you going to see a man who is hanging on the wall?
K: Yep, that's it.
Me: Okay, well the man hanging on the wall is Jesus.
K: No.
Me: Yes.
K: Really? Do you know him or what?

Do I know him? That is a question best saved for another post.

Vomit and pink eye and lice, oh my...

I consider it a real low point in my teaching day when I have to deal with bodily fluids of one kind or another. Working with five year olds, one realizes that a few boogers and messes and germs are in the mix. Kids have a fondness for the inside of their noses. Some even have a fondness for the inside of other kids' noses, but that is a story best left for another day.

So, even though this isn't the first day of kindergarten cooties, it is, so far, the worst. It all started with a little girl puking all over her desk. This makes her third puking incident in the last week. All at school. All disgusting. Her dad seemed annoyed that he had to come get her again. She was crying because she didn't want to leave school, but I have a strict throw up policy. If you do it, you're out. It seems simple enough.

Fast forward to rotations where my assistant notices lice rampantly crawling around another little girl's hair. As a result, I spent my lunch hour checking the rest of the kids for the white horror. They used to have people to check for you, but now they consider it a health hazard. So, like so many other things, it falls to the teacher to do the checking. Fortunately, the rest of them were bug free.

After my short five minute drink a Dr. Pepper sit in the staff room break, I returned to my room and a little boy with swollen, red, and oozing eyes. His parents were unavailable and so he spent the afternoon quarantined at the thinking desk with a cold rag on his eyes.

The day ended on a low note where a kid, who only comes to my class for the last 45 minutes of the day, actually wiped his snotty nose on my arm as he was filing pass. Not my shirt mind you. My arm. I was so disgusted and furious that I had to quarantine myself at the thinking desk. There, I actually had the thought that pink eye would be better than someone else's snot on your arm.

I am with Alexander on this one. It was terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Here's to hoping tomorrow will be a better one and that no one will be sick!

P.S. On the bright side, I finished ESL endorsement class number two, I saw my ESL crush and forced myself to flirt just a little, and I made brownies just because it is Wednesday.

Congratulations are in order...

Today one of my kids drew a picture of me. This happens often enough that I have come to appreciate looking like an alien with an oversized head and enormous misshapen eyes. What made this drawing really memorable was the conversation that followed. I should have named this post quotes for kindergarten, but I thought it was little more noteworthy.

Natalie: Miss B, I drew this picture of you.

Me: Oh, let me see. I look lovely. Who is with me in the picture?

N: This is you. (Pointing to the drawing with long hair). This is your husband. (Pointing to the slightly taller figure).

Me: That's nice, but I don't have a husband, sweet girl.

N: CONGRATULATIONS!!! You got married today!

She announced the marriage to the whole class and told all the kids to be nice to me because it was my wedding day. Hilarious and adorable. This is life with five year olds.