PaidWithHugs

What is it worth?

2012-03-07T13:27:00.001-06:00

We seem to measure everything by it's worth...is it valuable? Does it serve a purpose? How much does it cost? But some of the most important things can not have a price tag attached to them. I teach six year olds. Every morning my day starts with hugs. Those hugs do not have a price tag on them, but their value is incredible. There are days I could crawl back into bed and cover my head, but those hugs make it better. Then there are those "AW, HA" moments! That moment in time when it all clicks for that child. If you are a lucky teacher, those moments happen everyday. When a child understands a concept for the first time and they look at you with total understand, that is the most incredible moment in teaching.

Recently I discovered some hidden pictures of my family. These pictures are of a generation that is no longer with us. While to some those pictures are worthless, to me they tell the story of my family. They are invaluable to me. I hope that I teach my children to respect their history and that these pictures will someday mean something to them. And they don't ask "How much is it worth?"

My Students

2012-03-02T20:14:00.003-06:00

I teach 6 year olds. They fill my days with laughter and frustration. I enjoy listening to their conversations. Today a little girl was discussing a little boy that is a character. The little boy is fascinated with Barbies. He will bring one to school on Fridays for free choice centers. The little girl was explaining the little girls that play with little boys is a "tomboy." So she decided that a little boy that plays with dolls must be a "tomgirl." She was so cute in her reasoning. I just had to laugh.

Another little girl was telling me that her momma had celebrated a birthday the day before. I asked her what she had gotten her mother as a present. She told me that had not gotten her anything. She then started talking about her mother's age and how she was super old...I laughed and said, "Was she 22?" She said, "Oh, no, Mrs. M...she looks forty or sixty years old." I love that to a six year old everyone over the age of 21 is the same "old person."

I love the honesty of this age of children...not enough sleep? They tell you about the bags under your eyes. Change your hair color? Why, it looks bad. They are very honest. To bad we teach them to lie.

Proud Mommy

2012-02-29T00:20:00.003-06:00

Tonight my children exhibited their lambs at our county livestock shows. Our county is one of the most competitive in the state...so winning it is a big deal. This year my two darling children did not just win it, but they dominated it. My daughter is nine years old, so this is the first year she has been allowed to participate at the county show. She is an official 4-Her. She walked into the ring determined to win. She had Reserve Breed Champion Southdown and Reserve Breed Champion Suffolk...she shined in the ring. Then her big brother (who is a senior) decided to go out with a bang. He had Breed Champion Shrop and Breed Champion Cross...then he did something that I have not seen in the eleven years my husband has been teaching in this county happen in the sheep barn and only once in the swine barn...he won Grand and Reserve Grand Champion Lamb. It was so exciting watching his face light up. This was the third year in a row that he has won Grand Champion. He was so excited. He works so hard, so it was the reward for all of his, his sister's, and his father's hard work. They work so well as a team and tonight they won as a team. Then to make my day even more perfect, a lady that I don't really know stopped me as I was walking through the barn. She wanted to tell me that I had polite, well-behaved children that were a joy to be around. She informed me that I should be proud of them...I told her I was. And I am! I am very blessed to have all three of them in my life!

Praying for Patience

2012-02-28T12:53:00.001-06:00

Praying for patience is a scary thought. I have discovered that each year God places a child in my path that gets on my last nerve. I use to pray for patience, but I have decided that only makes things worse. So now I pray for God to show me one thing a day to love about that child. Collin is a little boy that is my room. He is larger than the other children. He lacks the ability to whisper, to control his hands, or to stop and think before talking. But he makes up for it in having a big heart. As I started praying for Collin, I noticed my attitude changing. Now I see that Collin exhibits some symptoms of autism. His social cues are limited. He is bright and a great learner. While I don’t think God changed Collin, He did change my attitude toward Collin. I look forward to his stories. I enjoy his random hugs. And most of all Collin is happier in my room.

Now I am praying for two little girls. Both are bossy and mean to others, so I am asking for God’s guidance on how to deal with them. But I am not praying for patience.

He is in Control!

2012-02-23T14:22:00.000-06:00

God leaves you little surprises if you just look. Today I was running late and felt sick. About five minutes before I was suppose to leave the house, my mother called asking for me to stop and pick a few items up for her on my way to work. She was ill and didn't feel like leaving the house. I told her yes, but realized I was going to be late for work. I still had my makeup to do and hair to finish. After hurrying and finishing getting dressed, I ran to the car to make the twenty minute drive to town. As I entered the city limits, I realized that I had twenty minutes to go to the grocery store, take the items to mom, drive to work, park, get into the building, and sign in at the office. I knew that I wasn't going to make it. I called the teacher down the hall and asked for her to cover for me. She agreed. I was able to stop at the store, pick up the items and deliver them to my mother within ten minutes. I then was able to drive to work and make it into the building with five minutes to spare. As I breathed a sigh of relief, I realized that once again God had a hand in the smallest details of my life. He arranged for me to miss all the red lights. He placed the checkout lady at her register. He opened the path at the store to the items with no traffic. He arranged for my mother to be waiting at the door for me to shave a few minutes off my time. God can handle the simpliest of tasks if we just allow him.

My Son--My Hero

2012-02-22T13:08:00.000-06:00

When I started this blog I was excited to see where it led me. In May, our lives took a drastic turn. My children and I rode out a tornado in the master bedroom closet. Our house had major damage that took us all summer to repair. But the worst was the security that storm took from our lives. My children are anxious when they see dark rain clouds, I watch the weather with a heavy heart, and my husband still has guilt about being in Illinois when it hit and not with us. But we have discovered how much we mean to each other. I learned about the strong, protective son I raised as I watched him throw his body across his little sister to protect her from the falling ceiling.

On the night of the storm I watched my 17 year old turn into the man I knew he would someday be. He took charge that night. After he helped rescued nine trapped neighbors from a storm cellar, he began to work on cleaning our home. He worked for days removing trees, trash, and debris from our home. He became my hero in so many ways. I had always been proud of him, but now I was proud of the man he is becoming. Until his father returned home, he was the man of the house. He learned skills and applied skills his father had taught him, but he had never used. I watched him care for and assist our older neighbors as they worked to clean their yards and homes. He willing volunteered to help them. He didn’t complain, he just did what needed to be done. My son is my hero.

May 24th Tornado

2011-05-29T16:38:00.001-05:00

It was a beautiful Oklahoma day. It was the first day of summer vacation. We were enjoying our freedom from school and just being lazy. The television was on satellite channel. My husband was in Chicago on a business trip. The phone started ringing. My husband was getting phone calls and texts from friends that were worried about us. Before we knew what was happening, sirens were going off and the police were going door-to-door telling people to go below ground and to take cover. We don't have a cellar, so I placed the kids in the master bedroom closet with pillows and quilts. Within 15 minutes the electricity was off, and the sky darkened. Then a whistling sound started. My 17 year old son threw himself over my 8 year old daughter. She had on her bicycle helmet and rain boots. I threw myself onto my son. As we were huddled together in a pile, we heard the roof lifting off the house and dropping back down. You could hear the trees hitting the house and the shingles flying off. The roof sounded like a deck of cards being shuffled. The wind sounded like a train whistle. As the wind died down, the limbs continued to hit the house. After ten or fifteen minutes of deadly silence, I slowly opened the door and crawled out of the closet. I made my way across the floor to the closest window.

As I opened the blinds, I was unprepared for what I would see. We live on an acreage that is covered with trees. That is the only reason we were interesting in purchasing it was because it made us feel like we had our own little farm. Trees were uprooted, missing tops, broken in half, and generally destroyed. As my teenager and I left my daughter and went outside to inspect the damage, we were met with total destruction. My roof was missing in places. Trees that were four feet around were pulled out of the ground and laying on the fence. A two inch drilling pipe fence was bent into "v's" in five places. My chainlink fence was bent at the ground lying on its side.

My son went to the road to check on neighbors. Jerry, our neighbor across the street, was missing. We quickly formed a search party. Another neighbor remembered that our neighbor, Mike, had a cellar. We started looking for it. As Dennis walked across the yard, he climbed onto a pile of tree limbs to look around. He heard screams and pounding and realized that he was standing on top of two trees that had fallen on top of the cellar door. I yelled for my son to help. He deadlifts over 500 lbs in competitions. He couldn't even move those trees. He went running for a tractor. He heard a backhoe coming down the road clearing trees. He waved the man down and had him pull the trees off the door. One by one my neighbors crawled out. They had survived a tornado and being buried alive. There were nine people, six dogs, and a cat in that cellar. Right before climbing in, my neighbor, Terri, had called my cell phone to find out if we were home. The call did not go through. God wanted my family to be out of that cellar so that we could look for her family.

God was watching out for my family. He had His hand on us in that closet. I have thanked Him several times for sparing my children. Unfortunately there were parents in Oklahoma that day that lost their children. I was a lucky mother.

End of School Year Approaching Fast!!

2011-05-10T13:55:00.000-05:00

We have less than two weeks left before school is out for the summer. For many that is a wonderful thing, for me it is a time of sadness. I have to turn "my babies" over to a new teacher. Someone else will love them and watch over their educational well-being for next year. Every year at this time, I feel like I lost a part of me. I am sad that I won't be a daily part of some of these childrens' lives next year. Goodbyes aren't fun!

Why isn't life easy?

2011-05-09T10:08:00.000-05:00

As a mother, the hardest thing for me is to watch my children hurt. Whether it is a physical or emotional pain, neither are easy to witness. I personally feel that watching my children in emotional pain is the worse. My eight year old wears her feelings on her shoulders. She has two settings, happy or sad. She doesn't get mad, she doesn't get angry, and she never is out for revenge. Unfortunately that sets her up for a lot of heartache. She feels for others and allows them to run over her in the process. My seventeen year old is tougher, but he gets mad. Most of the time he focuses that anger on me. He "blames" me for a lot of wrongs in his life. I think he feels that I should be able to fix more than I can. He knows that I'm not superwoman, but that doesn't stop him from wishing.

Proud Mommy

2011-04-13T21:49:00.000-05:00

I was sent a copy of the local newspaper tonight that has my son on the front cover. He is one of 43 high school students that was awarded a scholarship for a week long trip to Washington, D.C. He gets to have an amazing trip with an incredible learning experience. He is going to meet people from all over the U.S. He will get to see national monuments and visit places of American history. Why? Because he was dedicated to his local, state, and national FFA. He not only believes in it, he is active in it. He wears his blue and gold jacket with pride. But not as much pride as I have of him!

Looking Forward to Spring...

2011-04-11T11:45:00.000-05:00

This time of year is a favorite of mine. Every year for Valentine's day my husband buys me tulips. After enjoying them for a few days, I send my children out to plant the bulbs. Then every year at this time, I get to be surprised by the blossoms of those tulips. I love seeing them all around our acreage. I love the smell. The first blooms this year were red. I still have yellow, pink, and purple to show themselves. The best part is that I know that those flowers also represent the love my husband has for his family. It is the little things he does that makes our world special. Those flowers are a part of that!

Wow! No Sadness!

2011-04-06T13:35:00.000-05:00

Lately I have been writing about death a lot...not because I am fascinated by it, but because it has been a part of my life. But I promised myself that I would blog about something that made me laugh today. That would be my students. I love my kids. Most days they cure what ails me. They make me glad I do what I do. So I thought I would share some short stories.

I have a wonderful little boy in my class. He is a black and white kinda of kid. He sees things in his own special way. His father was running for city council. He had spent several evenings with dad putting out signs. He was excited to see the signs out that contained dad's name. Dad had placed one across the street on a friend's fence post from school. My darling student couldn't wait to point it out to me. He then wanted to know if I wanted one for my yard. I pointed out that I didn't live in town, so I didn't need one. He looked at me in amazment and said, "So you aren't going to vote for my dad!" I tried to explain to him that because I didn't live in the community, I couldn't vote. He became upset with me and told me that his dad "was going to do a good job!" so I should vote for him. After fifteen minutes of trying to explain it to his little six year old mind, I gave up and told him I would vote for dad. The next morning he came in and told me "Bad news, Mrs. M! You live in B********!" Then he turned to another child and said, "Silly Mrs. M, she thought she could vote for my dad!"

Today another child explained that she needed to borrow my glasses. When I asked why, she answered, "I want to look like you when we play school." What a compliment!

Death-Why so Young?

2011-04-03T23:16:00.001-05:00

This weekend I attended two funerals. Each different in many ways and alike in a few. Both were part of a family that loved them. Both were parents. Both left children behind. Both cared about the people in their lives.

The differences were amazing...one, a mother of three boys, died from breast cancer. She fought a good fight, but her body couldn't go on anymore. The other, a father of a daughter, died from his addiction. He choose to put poison into his body that allowed death to knock on his door.

The mother had asked for a pastor to meet with her three weeks before she died. She discussed her salvation with him. She planned with her parents how the services would go and how her children would be prepared for her death. She made a point of letting her sons know that they were loved and she planned for their future.

The father lived a life that society doesn't consider normal. His homelife was different from her's in many ways. He allowed the addiction to rule his life. He was given every chance to come clean. He was sent to the best facilities to heal, he had the best doctors, he had a job that he liked, and he had family that loved him. He couldn't overcome the need to poison his life.

They both were what I considered young...late thirties, early forties. Why did they die? What can I learn from it?

I have decided that I need to plan for the future. The first thing I am doing is adding to my life insurance. I am writing a will. I am writing letters to my children. I want them to know that they are the best thing I have ever done. I want my family to know that I love them. I want my friends to know I admire them. Starting this week, I will write to one person in my life to tell them what they mean to me. I want to make my life mean something.

Pray for my friends. Pray for their children. And pray for me.

Death in the Barn

2011-03-22T10:10:00.001-05:00

As most of you know, we show lambs. My son began his 4-H and FFA career as a cloverbud in 4-H when he was 4. His father came home with two gilts (female swine) that quickly became my son's best friends. Over the years, we have replaced them with numerous other show animals. A little over four years ago, my son convinced his father that showing lambs was in his future. He quickly learned that taking care of lambs is harder than swine. They require a different type of work and they become ill faster than swine.

This year we all worked hard to prepare for the end of our show season. The last show for us is in mid March at Oklahoma Youth Expo. Attending the show is like going to a family reunion for our family. We are excited about seeing old friends and making new ones. This year we had worked hard for this event. Days before the show, our animals became ill. One would not eat, one acted as if the drench was making it ill, and one just seemed to stop growing. All year we had worked hard for this event and the lambs seemed to want to quit. My husband rallied his troops and went in search for the best way to fix the problems. And his seemed to be winning the fight.

On show day, the lamb that my son loved was out of sorts. He would stand in the pen with his head down. He seemed to be retaining gas. You could just tell he was not feeling well. The vet prescribed some medicine. We thought things were better. He showed in the cross drive and placed fourth. Then tragedy happened. He went back to the pen and would not get up. After begging, pleading, and prodding; my son was able to get him up. He took three steps down the aisle and fell down and died. The tears and sobbing coming from my 17 year old son was awful. This lamb was like his favorite pet. I quickly removed him from the scene and went into mommy mode. I worked to find a silver lining in the cloud. After calming him down and leaving him with friends, I returned to the stalls to find my 8 year old in tears. She watched as OYE employees placed the lamb in a trash can. She kept repeating "He has a face, he has a name, and he is our pet. Pets don't belong in trash cans." Once again mommy mode took over. How do you explain to an 8 year old that this is a fact of life? How do you make it better? The drive home from the barn was the hardest ever. My kids lost something they loved. They both also lost some of their innocence in that barn. I hope that other show families don't have to go through what we went through.

Getting Rid of Old Memories

2011-02-19T18:09:00.000-06:00

Our school is having a consignment sale as a fund raiser. Both of my kids have something that they are saving for, so I thought this would be a great way for them to earn some money. My husband has wanted the tubs in the garage to disappear. So it was a win-win situation. Not really, when I opened those tubs, so many memories started flooding over me. As I held the little shoes of my daughter, I remembered her first steps. As I pulled out Dylan's Dallas Cowboy jersey, I remembered a Halloween of long ago. As I opened a box and found baby quilts, I held them close thinking about how those times are gone. Looking at old toys, I remember them begging for them. Now it is time for them to become someone else's memories. It hurts so much! But seeing a nice clean garage is nice.

One Week in My Life

2011-02-19T08:56:00.000-06:00

This week has been so busy. So I thought I would start at the beginning.
Monday-Valentine's Day--this is one of our party days at school. First, I want to go on record that any week that starts with a party is doomed from the beginning, especially a party filled with red food coloring! I was given lots of treats by my kids. My husband and children sent me a Dr. Pepper bouquet. Yes, no traditional flowers for me! I got a bouquet filled with 8 oz bottles of Dr. Pepper, candy, and balloons. Does my husband know my weakness or what?

Tuesday-I have duty each morning this week. That means I have to be at school at least twenty minutes early. I was running late on Tuesday and felt that way all week. I hate being late.

Wednesday-Parent/teacher meeting-- This meeting was special. The little girl is a doll and her mother wants so bad to do what is best for her. We met to discuss getting her some special help, but I left sad. I think that sometimes we are not servicing the child when we don't help the parents. I think that for social services and DHS to work, they need to be in the school. I walked away from the meeting with a burden to help the mother. She wants to make a better life for her child, but doesn't know how.

Then after school I raced to the district livestock show. My son was reserve breed Hampshire. I love watching him show. It is an amazing feeling when I see him have success at something. After he showed his first sheep, I discovered that I had made a BIG mistake on his proficiency award application. I couldn't get the internet to work at the barn, so I had to drive 30 + minutes home and spend an hour working on it. I was so mentally drained by the time the boys pulled in to the house, but I wasn't done. I had to go out to the barn and help unload sheep and medicate them. I accidently stabbed my husband with a needle full of sheep medicine. He was a good sport about it (I wouldn't have been!) Needless to say, I fell into bed exhausted.

Thursday--I spent the day in a fog. I can't seem to shake a headache I have had for the last three days. My day was rough. One of my students spent the day crying about everything. On days like this, I don't think I am a very good teacher. At the end of the day, three little darlings got away from a sub and ran out to their bus. While they were never in any super danger, the experience scared me to death. I shook all night long imagining the worst case scenario.

Friday—The crier from Thursday was pumped. His birthday party was Friday night. I spent my day dragging him back to the ground. My son went to a power lifting meet and placed 3^rd in his weight division. I am amazed that this kid can lift anything. A year ago we were told he would never play sports again. We were told that he would have to have surgery on his knee, but God had another plan. He sent us to a wonderful physical therapist that worked wonders. She is the reason that he is able to do so much.

Saturday—Today is the big day. My 8 year old daughter has been waiting for months for a chance to sign up for soccer. Today that is the day that it is going to happen. I just hope it is her sport and she loves it as much as she thinks she will! I will keep you posted!

When Is Enough, Enough?

2011-02-10T08:56:00.002-06:00

As a teacher, I want to wear a t-shirt that says "I am a parent, too!" At least once a week I get a note, a phone call, or an email with a parent wanting to "discuss" some injustice done to their child. I work hard to make sure children in my care are not bullied. I diligently watch against a child feeling that their self-worth is lacking. I am in the building-a-child-up business. It not only insults me, but it hurts my feeling that someone would believe I would hurt or allow a child to be hurt in my care. Most of the incidents that I am contacted about are incomplete pictures. Unfortunately some parents don't want to have the whole picture. They are happy believing that everyone else is mean to their child. I have especially seen this in some fathers with their little girls. I have had "mean girls" in my class. Last year I had a group of little six year old girls that called themselves the "mean girl club." The ring leader of the club could do no wrong in her dad's eyes. When I contacted him or his wife about her behavior, I would hear how she was innocent and the others were evil. Last week I observed an altercation with this man and his older son. I saw his older son throw his arm back as if he was going to hit his father. The father was more worried about how this appeared to others around them. He was more worried about protecting his son's image than disciplining his son. Then less than five minutes later, I saw him reach into his pocket and hand his son some money. I was blown away with the lack of parenting, but I wasn't surprised. I believe that as defiant and rude as his older son is, his younger daughter is going to be worse. She watches how her older brother interacts with the family and thinks it is funny. She sees the boundaries being stretched and is willing to push them further If she is already the leader of the “mean girl club” at the age of 6, can you imagine the damage she will do at the age of 16.

I don't understand why people think they need to be friends with their child. And I don't understand why parents think that they have to fight every fight for their child. I agree that kids shouldn't be bullied, but at the same time if children don’t ever learn to stand up for themselves they are in for a lot of heartache. I watch children (OK, 18 year old boys) call mommy over every little problem. A bad grade for not completing homework...call mommy and she will come to the school and yell at the teacher. Not getting an award that you think you deserve...call mommy and she will yell at the person in charge until you get an award, too. Recently an acquaintance of mine became upset that her son wasn’t going to win an award at graduation. Instead of seeing what the criteria was and how her son was lacking, she immediately assumes the school and the counselor is in the wrong. When is it too soon to teach children responsibility? At what age should we expect children to fight their own battles? When do you allow them to handle problems themselves?

I personally think that it starts at the earliest age. Parents should teach their children how to use words to solve problems. Parents should not run to the school or call every time a child forgets their homework. By allowing children to take responsibility for their actions at an early age, you are training an adult that can take care of themselves. And isn’t that my job as a parent?

The Great Flood of 2011

2011-02-07T23:57:00.000-06:00

OK, the Great Flood is a little extreme...it was a flood! In Oklahoma any amount of ice can shut the state down, but add over ten inches of snow and we have problems. Add Oklahoma wind (you know, Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain) and you really have problems. That is what started the Great Flood of 2011. It was the snow's fault...or at least partly. I teach school in a small community that has grown faster than planned. So last year when our oldest elementary building was torn down, several of us were "misplaced" while the school built a new building. I was "misplaced" into a small room off of the combination cafeteria/gym. On the best of days, the room is noisy from the shared space---and oh, please don't talk about the garlic and onion days! But getting back to the storm... this year the snow storm was worse than in years past for several reasons, the late date of it, the 19 inches of snow it left in some parts of the state, and of course, the lack of the government for being prepared. How does a flood enter into the picture? Easily, with snow this deep, there is not school. And no school means that there are not any staff to find frozen pipes. And you guessed it, the pipes over my classroom froze. Luckily for me, our janitor staff were called in and found the leak shortly after it was started...unluckily for me and for them, the leak had already dropped over 500 gallons of water into my room. That is how the Great Flood of 2011 happened.

But here is the rest of the story...school still has to go on. Children still need to learn. And in order to make that happen, the janitorial staff, my husband, my children, and I worked together to get everything cleaned up and ready to go. The leak was found Thursday morning. By Sunday at noon, my room was ready for students. The floors were dry, the furniture was in place, the mess was gone, and the smell was getting under control. My beautiful room looks even better. Yes, I lost supplies...but nothing I can't teach without. Yes, I will be finding items that need to be replaced for months to come, but that doesn't change what I can do with a book and me. Those items will not effect what and how my students learn. They really won't change the way I teach. The Great Flood of 2011 had no impact on my T-1 class. We had a perfectly great Monday and it won't slow us down.

Believing in Allie

2011-02-07T12:52:00.000-06:00

This weekend I attended a memorial service for a former student. He was a great kid, but my love for him began because of his older sister. Allie came to my class as an outgoing, energetic 2nd grader. She had a smile on her face that reached to the sun. She was the peace keeper of our class. This class was made of strong personalities that wanted to control everything. There were several young ladies in the classroom that thought that everyone should do what they wanted. Allie was the go between. She kept peace. She negotiated to plan the games and activities on the playground. Allie was different from the rest in the way she related to her younger brother. One of the dominate personalities in class also had a kindergarten brother. But while Allie loved being a big sister, "Student B" seemed to hate it. While Allie couldn't wait to get home to share with Dalton what she had learned, "Student B" didn't want to talk to her brother. When the boys attended activities in our classroom, Allie scooted over to make room for Dalton in her chair. "Student B" would pout and be angry that her mother brought her little brother.

When Allie was in 2nd grade I decided to do a thematic unit on plants. I planned for weeks and prepared a lesson on seeds. One of the lessons was that the students would sort and characterize seeds in the form of nuts. We worked on the sorting, graphing, and drawing of the seeds. They I gave the students permission to eat the seeds. Allie came to my desk with half of a cashew. She informed me she didn't like nuts and didn't want to eat them. I remember smiling at her and encouraging her to try it. She bit the cashew in half and ate it. She became ill. Her breathing became labored. Her coloring was off. I knew immediately that this was serious. I called her mother and stayed with her in the hallway while we waited. Her mother came and decided it was her sinus allergies. She gave her some cold medicine and watched her for a few minutes. Because of the time of day, her mother decided to go ahead and take her home. On her way home, Allie quit breathing. It turned out that Allie was allergic to nuts. No one knew. The next day Allie's mother showed up to school with an EPI pen and a hug. She thanked me for taking care of her daughter. I was in shock...here I had almost killed a woman's child, and she hugged and thanked me. Allie's mother has become one of my most special friends over the years.

Allie now faces life not being what she is so good at doing. She is no longer the big sister that offers advice and knowledge to her little brother. She no longer plays the part of protector. This phase in Allie's life is over, but God has a plan in place for her next phase. I feel blessed to have been a part of the Allie as a big sister phase. I can't wait to see what the future has for Allie.

Snowed In

2011-02-04T22:04:00.000-06:00

We have been snowed in for the last four days. With 16 inches of snow, Oklahoma isn't prepared for this. Luckily for my family, I was prepared. I had a freezer of meat, a pantry of can goods, and lots of new recipes. We have had fresh rolls, roast, and lots of new combinations of vegetables. I had also made a trip to the library for a bag of books. I also made a trip to the gas station and filled all the vehicles (especially my 4-wheel drive truck) with gas. I also brought back to gas cans filled for the generator. I was ready. We never lost electricity. So the generator has stayed in the barn, but the rest of the supplies have been a blessing.

It is amazing a few miles makes. The highway just a mile from my house is covered with ice. It is only drivable with 4-wheel drive. The highway 11 miles away is clean. Why? Because the highway department leaves the removal of snow to each county. How unfortunate for those who live in a county that doesn't plan well!

Dalton's Goodbye

2011-01-29T11:28:00.002-06:00

In college they forgot to cover a lot of things that happen in the classroom. But one thing they totally forgot is how to say goodbye. Today is the funeral of a former student. No one told me about this part of teaching. Since I began teaching, I have stood at the graves of several of my students hurting. Most of them spent a year telling me their secrets, giving me hugs, and sharing their world. But Dalton was different. He came into my life when his older sister was in my class. As a mischievous, little kindergartener, he followed big, sister, Allie around. He wanted to do everything she did. She read, so he wanted to read. She climbed the monkey bars, so up he went. Every step she took, he was right with her. Two years later, he was in 2nd grade following once again in her footsteps. He absorbed books. He wanted to discuss them all. He was tetherball champion of the world (at least in his head.)

When my daughter was three, Dalton and Allie were her babysitters for the summer. They spent time carrying her, holding her, reading to her, and basically fighting over her. Everyday I would return to their home to see her chasing Dalton or him toting her around to avoid the dog she was scared of. Having an older brother has meant that she always preferred boys. Allie wanted so bad to be Taylor's favorite, but it wasn't meant to be. Dalton was the one she talked about and ran to be picked up. She quickly learned that Allie was good for snacks and getting read to, but Dalton was the one to rough house with.

Today, my friend Tara will say goodbye to her baby. She shouldn't have to do that. Mothers should never bury their child, but I know she will do it was grace and in the will of God. I admire her so much. She is a great mother that lives to make her children's lives better. I am saying a prayer for her. She has a long road in front of her, but I believe in her.

Death of a Child

2011-01-26T11:44:00.001-06:00

This week I was called with the news that one of my former students was killed. He was a bright, funny child. He could be found in serious thought during classroom discussions about books. He loved to wrestle, hunt, play baseball, and read. But mostly he loved hearing about God's plan for his life. This young man had plans not only for his life, but how to live his life. He wanted to live his life for God. He left behind a beautiful funny sister, a talented and kind mother, and a hard working father. They will all miss him...but more than anything, they will miss the man he was going to become. Dalton, I am going to miss you.

Just Waiting...

2011-01-12T12:06:00.000-06:00

This week I find myself just waiting. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. I am just waiting for my teenager to get home, so I can sleep. I am just waiting till payday, so I can pay my bills. I am just waiting to buy a book until my favorite author comes out with her newest. I am waiting for my students to finish and master a skill before I teach another. Sometimes, I seem to be just waiting for the next event in my life to take place.

Today I am just waiting to see how our trip to Denver turns out. My son's best sheep ran into something and now he is limping. Because of the rules, we are unable to give the lambs medicine to help them heal. So watching him limp is hurting us, too. This made me think of my own children. As they get older, I at times watch them limp through life making choices that are not the best for them. I watch them choose friends that don't have the character that I want them to have. My son, more so than my daughter, has the ability to collect misfits like most people collect souvenirs. He tries to be a friend to all that he meets. As a mother, it hurts watching him set himself up for pain. But there are times, when I see him not only succeed...but rescue a soul. So while waiting can be exhausting, it sometimes is the only course we have.

It's Show Time!

2011-01-09T23:08:00.000-06:00

My children are active in FFA and 4-H. It is a big part of our lives. We spend a lot of time and money supporting our local chapters. As a child, I was a member of the local 4-H Club. I gave speeches, did demonstrations, built projects, learned to cook, and participated with many different activities. But being raised in town, showing livestock was not part of my 4-H experience. So when I married my husband, a FFA advisor, I quickly learned that his job translated into us spending our weekends at livestock shows. I would visit my grandparents' farm as a child, but spending time with the animals was just a quick visit to the pen and throwing food into a trough.

When our son was 5 years old, my husband came home with two gilts (for those non-farm people--that is two female pigs). These animals were to become my son's first show projects. Betty and Wilma became the center of our lives. Not only did they have to be fed more than once a day, they had to be walked, watered, kept cool, and bathed on a regular bases. Over the years, I have learned the best way to bathe a hog without being soaked. I have learned to give show hogs shots without hurting them. I have even learned to read ear notches (the system used by breeders to tell the litter and birth order of each pig).

Three years ago, my husband and son threw me a curve ball. They decided that we needed to start showing lambs. I had never been around lambs. What I knew about lambs, I had learned in the Bible. After the first adorable little lamb was unloaded off the trailer, I thought this will be a piece of cake. Boy, was I wrong!!! Lambs are the dumbest animals on earth. They don't seem to learn from mistakes. My son was able to train several of his show hogs like you would dogs; but the sheep don't have the intelligence to learn simple tasks. So preparing for livestock shows with sheep require hours of work. Each morning someone has to get up before dawn to feed them before work and school. Then after school they have to be walked, both on the walker and by a person. Then there is time setting them up and teaching them to brace. Then another feeding time. They are a delicate animal. They have to be watched and guarded.

Show season is here! Now it is time to reap the benefits of all our hard work. Showing livestock is a group effort. All of us have jobs before showing, during the shows, and afterwards. But watching my children walk into the ring and walking out with a blue ribbon makes it all worth while. We went to a livestock show this weekend. I was able to watch my son walk away with the Reserve Grand Champion ribbon. By the end of the week, we will be traveling to Denver, Colorado to compete in the National Western Stock Show. Last year we were lucky enough to earn a Reserve Breed Champion banner. This year we hope to be just as successful. Say a prayer for us as we travel to Colorado with our children and animals. I will keep you posted.

Shopping With Hubby

2011-01-09T21:19:00.000-06:00

There should be a law about going shopping with your husband. Or at least malls should be required to have marriage counselors available for immediate help. We went shopping for jeans for our son. I wanted to visit several shops and compare prices. I wanted to look at the coupons I had and find the best deal...he wanted to get home for football. He was driven to do the experience in less than 45 minutes. I wanted our son to try them on, but he wanted our son to pick out the jeans, pay for them, and try them on at home. I know our son will only wear them if they are comfortable. If they aren't, they will be hung in the closet and never wore. That means wasted money. If they don't fit, who has to take them back and waste more time? MOM So it means more to me to take the extra time to do it right the first time.

After spending fifteen minutes arguing, my teenager was ready to go home. He was tired of dealing with his dad, also. My hubby is a great guy, but he is not a shopper. So now I am looking for a guide to shopping with your husband...maybe a Shopping with Husband for Dummy book?