free and clear

hope.

in through my bellybutton with a
tiny camera
mixed with a coupla' more tiny
incisions,
revealed that our chances of
conceiving
exist!


crazy technology.

paul and i have been sweating it out
ever since we have been trying to get me pregnant.
the waiting,
and trying,
and planning,
and waiting,
and wondering
why-the-hell-it's-not-working...

and waiting.

and now that we have the results of months
of fertility testing,
we are back to the waiting,
and trying,
and waiting.

the difference is that we are
more optimistic now.
hopeful.
relieved even.

so cross your fingers,
send good vibes,
pray,
do a fertility dance...
whatever you believe in...
do it for us.

also...put it out there for my cousin and her husband.


of course, staying in the context of my blog...
the shorties are upset that i am trying to have a baby.
"you are going to leave us after you have your baby!"
"why do you want children? you have us?"
"why don't you adopt?"
"how does the baby come out of a mother's body?

my reply:
"i will never leave you"
"you all have families who love you and won't let me take you home"
"i may adopt"
"that, you will have to ask your mother"
(one of my students leaned over and
whispered the answer in his ear and his eyes got SO BIG!)

we are on break this week.
allowing me to rest.
to reflect.
to plan.

the future looks good.
scary.
full.

happy weekend!

groovin' in the streets

the shorties sang on tuesday.
they sang in the community childrens choir that is mosty made up
from kids at our school.
the choir is called sandtown
just like the neighborhood
they were singing for the dedication of a
habitat for humanity house.
the woman who the house now belongs to is a graduate
of our school.
i love my job and all that it encompasses.

you can check out their cd on the link above, or go to
itunes and type in "sandtown".

we take care of each other. we really do.

this week in pictures

what an amazing week.
the shorties continue to amaze me each day.
tuesday, one student came in terribly and understandably upset.
his grandfather had died the night before.
i sat and talked with him as the others got
ready for their day.
he cried deeply and painfully as the others
looked on with worried faces and offered kleenex.
i praised them for remembering our motto:
we take care of each other.

then, i asked, "would anyone like to share about
a time when they lost someone and felt sad? maybe that
would help..."
so, one story at at time, the can of worms was opened.
"when my cousin was shot, i talked to my mom"
"when my uncle died last year, i tried to be strong"
"i wrote letters to my grandmother when she died"

and, one by one, they were all crying.
i had an entire classroom of crying children.
not just sniffling.
they were burying themselves in pillows and
sobbing gut-wrenching tears.
they were wailing.
i even had tears in my eyes...
i was also panicking a bit.

but i realized, they needed this release.
they just needed a good cry.
jeez...and don't we all sometimes?

so, after a box of kleenex and many group hugs,
we gathered on our rug and brainstormed
things we have now...things we are thankful for...
things that make us happy.

and through tears, i had responses,
"cotton candy"
"singing"
"fingerpaint"
"candles"

and then some smiling,
"shopping"
"candy corn"
"reading"

and, finally, we were all smiling.
and they seemed stronger
as a class.
they had been through something together
and had made it through.
they bonded even more through the struggle of grieving.

they were telling other teachers, later that day,
"we cried all morning. but we helped each other and
we're ok now."
they are stronger now.

they amaze me.

reading

i read this poem on the writers almanac today.


Instructions
by Sheri Hostetler, from the anthology A Cappella: Mennonite Voices in Poetry

Give up the world; give up self; finally, give up God.
Find god in rhododendrons and rocks,
passers-by, your cat.
Pare your beliefs, your absolutes.
Make it simple; make it clean.
No carry-on luggage allowed.
Examine all you have
with a loving and critical eye, then
throw away some more.
Repeat. Repeat.
Keep this and only this:
what your heart beats loudly for
what feels heavy and full in your gut.
There will only be one or two
things you will keep,
and they will fit lightly
in your pocket.

life is good

this picture pretty much sums up our sunday.
paul, paprikash and i enjoyed the sunny spots yesterday
as we dearly needed rest.

i worked in paul's wine store pouring wine for a
tasting all day.
man oh man do i appreciate him even more!
dealing with the public when giving away free alcohol is not pretty.
people can be downright rude in fact.

i caught myself wanting to say
"it is polite to say please and thank you, when you want something
or when someone kindly gives you something"
to the throngs of people, some demanding, wanting their taste.
and, excuse me, but if you have already tasted it once, then you really don't need to
come back for seconds, thirds and greedy fourths...right?
the way that our society treats people (key word here: PEOPLE) in the service industry is embarrassing.
i actually had a man inform me that the wine i pulled out of a bucket of ice was not cold enough.
what i wanted to say was "piss off".
instead, i smiled and told him that an hour on ice was
actually limiting the real flavors of the wine to come out
and that it was actually not warm enough.
he grumpily walked away, downing the wine in one gulp.
jerk-ee.
i should have told him to piss off.

and that, right there, is why i am not in the service industry anymore. HEE!
sometimes, i think that i miss it.
and then i do a catering gig, or a wine pouring stint. and realize that
there are a lot of poopy people out there,

and then i go home and think of ways to keep the shorties from growing into
one of these inconsiderate, grumpy, self-righteous buttheads.

they will never be like that.
they are too golden.



and, THEY, would have said "please" and "thank you".