open the doors, see all the people

Next week marks a big week for several school districts in my path of life. My curiosity is piqued as to how the levys will turn out for Ridgemont, Arlington and Olentangy. Big-O because if it fails, the chances of husband getting that job go from slim to nil; Ridgemont because, well, I have hometown allegiance. And Arlington because I drive through there on a regular basis and their signage had me baffled. There seems to be equal numbers of pro and nay-saying signs on Main Street, so it could be quite a run. I'm a sucker for a good competition. 

The Courier did a piece on the A-town feud, which I skimmed in my curiosity (the vote no signs really had me wondering what was behind the opposition - there were at least 3 bullet points on a single sign). Because I have zero ties to Arlington, other than a mutual sharing of St. Rt. 68 about once every other week, I'm not overly concerned with the outcome. But the article really got me thinking about the role and the importance of the building structure in education. (I told you! I'm on a streak). 

One argument of the opponents is that the new building campaign "isn't education, it's real estate." It rang familiar to the conversation that I frequently heard in the church world concerning building campaigns. Honestly, I've never thought about buildings in the educational context before, but when you reframe the question, it made me think. 

On the one hand, if I lived in R'mont district, I'd vote for it. When I was in college, a wise older man I worked with told me "I've never voted against education" and I thought at was admirable. I try to live by the same philosophy - that though it may cost money, a solid education for the kids in my community (not just "my" kids, but those I share streets and stores and economy and newspaper routes with) is important. **Full disclosure: I did vote against the LB levy right after we moved here. They JUST built a new school. While I want to support education to the utmost extent, I also want some fiscal conservatism by my board. I won't write a blank check every time they ask... but I voted for the follow up, non-building renewal levy. Tit-tat. 

Now, I know nothing about the condition of the Arlington school. So any further comments aren't personal in any sense... but I'm starting to think that there are a few deeper fundamental questions that should be asked regarding building campaigns. 

Right now it seems the cool thing to do in the educational world. The article even cited that all the surrounding districts are in the midst of building campaigns. I just don't think schools should be focused on keeping up with the Jones'. Husband claims that schools need to do this to try to draw kids from other districts, to "remain competitive" (ah, such the republican). But in the church world we call this Sheep Stealing. Why are we concerned with kids who are already getting what they need at a different place? Shouldn't we turn our sights onto the kids within our own system and providing them what they need to learn and grow and develop? Perhaps that might be a safer structure with greater capacity for evolving technology. Or perhaps it's more teachers to lower the classroom ratio. Or books. But getting the kids from down the road simply shouldn't be an aim. If we're that concerned with the kids across the county, perhaps we should give that district what they need in order to provide for the kids. Missionary schooling. Now that's an original thought. 

Then there's the impact of environment on learning. Can we learn the same in a pole barn as in a state-of-the-art facility? I just mentioned that I'm not one to notice nature, and that statement could probably be expanded to say I generally don't notice much about my surroundings at all in terms of quality. But I do recognize size. I absolutely hate exceptionally large spaces for small groups of people. I feel naked. A packed house is much preferred - the energy builds, synergy forms, something just happens. Or maybe I'm just a touchy-feely person who likes to "get a little closer." 

But enough about me, back to the question. What is really required to learn? I just read about how kids in some other nordic country (this post is running waaaaaay too long, I'm not going to look up the Time article now, you can do it yourself) spend most of their time outdoors with their coursework, doing geometry with sticks and stones. And they're nearly as smart as China. 

So, what I'm really asking is: is a new building the answer? Are we asking the right questions about what a district needs vs what would be nice to brag about? Is it simply the next step? Proof of a growing, thriving, successful organization? Again, I'm hearing echos of a familiar conversation in the church world of building campaigns equating to "doing something right." (**Not all building campaigns are wrong or bad; I just can't say that all of them are as necessary as we might believe).  But rather than doing it in the name of God, we do it in the name of our children's future. But is it always about either (both) of those things? Couldn't there be just a little bit of Tower of Babel in there somewhere? Look what we can build...

Again, I don't know anything about Arlington's district or need. I don't know how voters should lean (fortunately the chances of someone in the district reading this are extraordinarily low). But never before had I broadened my opinions of building campaigns and what they mean to the people who want them, or why. 

Just something new for me to think about at 3am. 

she's here, she's here

Yes, it's springtime and in all ways we're seeing new life. First, up from the grave he arose (He arose!)... and then we look around in nature, and what was said to the rose make it unfold (was said to me here in my chest so be quiet now, and rest). And finally, welcome to the planet, welcome to existence - everyone's here... the finale of appearances by sweet, new baby girls - the firstborn for each of 3 of my friends. 

I seriously might suffocate in the joy of it all. 

I've never been much of a nature-lover. I still prefer a good book to a walk in the woods, but at least I'm more inclined to read the book in the warmth of the sun. But there's just something about a hard, cold winter season followed by a spring that is simply shooting out new life left and right. It's such a reminder of the final word. 

And for so many of them - of us - this new life is exactly what we needed. The hardness and difficulty of life can sometimes be overwhelming. You look around and see nothing but white and emptiness. But then you wake one morning to the sounds of birds returning home, you see the grass give a green hue and a baby breathes her first. 

Life is full of light and shadow 

O the joy and O the sorrow 
O the sorrow 

And yet will He bring 
Dark to light 
And yet will He bring 
Day from night 

When shadows fall on us 
We will not fear 
We will remember 

When darkness falls on us 
We will not fear 
We will remember 

When all seems lost 
When we're thrown and we're tossed 
We remember the cost 
We rest in Him 
Shadow of the cross

(Shadows - David Crowder Band, Church Music)

what you missed out on during Lent

Several people took a self-imposed hiatus from Facebook over Lent, which I can respect. I know the addictive quality of The Book and have taken a leave of absence myself at times once. But in defense of all things good and holy in the world of social media, allow me to compose a list of the wonderful ways in which my life has been enriched by this free, consuming and addictive product/tool in recent times. 

1. Beautified my hair. A simple post to other curly-haired friends and I found a few new suggestions on how to tame this mess of frizz. I like to do a seasonal switch out from gel to mousse, depending on the equinox, but the transitions are tough. Not to mention the indecisiveness of pregnant hair. 

2. Fixed my computer. Twice. First was a screen shot paste issue involving outlook express. The second was a new iphone syncing issue (which isn't necessarily resolved, but at least I have a hunch as to it's root cause). 

3. Got a half-priced massage. Goooo me! (And Journey Salon and Day Spa - way to capitalize on free marketing!)

4. Served dinner. I have the makings for a good pasta dish, and now thanks to the suggestions of friends, I have a method to the madness of cooking it. 

5. Learned those quirks of the kitchen that didn't seem to get passed down. Such as, how to deal with a large, hard ball of brown sugar and make it usable again. Key: bread in the airtight container. 

6. Had multiple conversations concerning labor and delivery using words that would make most men squirm. Fortunately for said men, the conversations happened via messages, not out in the open. Come on, I have a little taste. 

7. Made my friends crazy-jealous of the cuteness level of my kids by posting our preview shot by our photog friend, Jennie Good (you simply must check her out. www.jenniegoodphotography.com). 

8. Shared a mutual affection for David Crowder with a variety of friends on multiple occasions. 

9. Was ensured that I was safe in the night while a storm passed. There were no sirens. 

10. Learned that OU added even more street fests as the years have gone by. My, oh my, can those kids party. 

11. Was convinced to buy an iphone. 

12. Found out that Dianne married Victor, much to Jack's dismay. Oh, you slimy old man, you are a people-user. 

13. Created a list of must-have craft items for the kids' basket. 

Seriously, where would I be without my virtual friends? And now that Lent is over, I anticipate a large rush of status updates and bigger variety in my feed. Welcome back Bob, Jill, Paul, Mark and the many others! We've missed you! 

thank you, DC*B for another reminder

In the end when all of this is gone
And all that's living has moved on
The sun and moon will finally set
The wind will lay the seas to rest

In the end when all our souls will rise
All the nations, all the sides
Will feel the need for that dark place
For I and thee in His embrace

In His shadow there is peace
In His arms there is rest
In His word there is hope
In His hands there is grace

In the end, no hurting
In the end, no yearning
In the end, no suffering
No sadness or pain
In the end

To the end when all of this is gone
And all that's living has moved on
The sun and moon will rise and set
The wind will bring the seas to rest

To the end when all our souls will rise
All the nations, all the sides
Will feel the need for this dark place
For I am loved and this is His embrace

In His shadow there is peace
In His arms there is rest
In His word there is hope
In His hands there is grace

To the end, there's hurting
To the end, there's yearning
To the end, there's suffering
You're waiting and waiting

Oh to the end...
Oh to the end...


Bodies die
Souls will shine
Bodies die
We will rise

We were made to live forever...
We were made to live forever...

We will live to live forever...
We will live to live forever...

and another one down..

Today my baby girl turned one. All the veteran parents tell me how with each consecutive kid the time flies by exponentially and this has so far proven true. With the oldest, everything is new with each passing year. The next ones file in line and you wake up one day and she's walking. Then talking. Then going to prom. Eeck. 

I'm a bit saddened that Miss M only has 3 months left as the baby before moving into Older Sister ranks. In the past several weeks she's been such a delight, discovering new things and engaging people in ways she hadn't before. She'll be a wonderful big sis, but I've enjoyed her as the baby girl. I really hope she's not being jipped out of some special spotlight time with the new addition. But she has such personality that I think it will be hard to loose her in the shuffle. 

So a bit about the little lady on this monumental day:

• She's trying to mimic words: thank you, milk, mommy/daddy, more, animal sounds, choo choo... Just tonight H was singing O'Toodles (from Mickey) and we hear M follow up.. "oooo toooo tooo". 
• She's an eating machine. Probably more than H eats at this point (he's slowed down significantly over the winter. Hibernation?). For her birthday celebration we grilled chicken soak, had baked beans, a few picnic-y salads and she shared her cake - Pineapple Upside Down - as it's also her daddy's favorite. 
• She's taking many consecutive steps! She'll often take off from standing by the coffee table, especially if she thinks no one is looking. I think we're going to have some races before too long. 
• She'll blow kisses night night or even give you a real one (if you're in the elite circle). She was nuzzling with me at church this morning. Oh, how a mom treasures those times. 
• She's almost done with her bottles. She only gets one at night, but we're on the last can of formula and I'm not buying more, so we're about done. The past few nights she hasn't even finished off what we've offered. Such a big girl. 
• She's such a good listener! Tonight husband was already upstairs, so I just asked M to go upstairs to put on her jammies. And she did it. She'll put her bink back in bed when we ask and sit down in her high chair (from standing) when firmly reminded. She knows so much more than what we think!
• She's even aware of dressing - she'll try to put on shoes (mine, hers, whatever is close). She got a pair of bunny ears for her birthday and she tried to put them on her head. She even held  a new shirt she got for her birthday up to her face, I think because she was trying to put it on. Maybe we will be able to leave the house completely dressed with three of them. 
• She loves to press buttons that make music. We have a hand-me-down Disney princess book that stays on the coffee table as a makeshift jukebox. She'll sway with the music and even bob her head. She got a new set of wheels today that plays fairy music. Can I tell you the delight that brings everyone in this household? (Yes, you might detect a slight bit of sarcasm in that statement). 
• She'll do anything that her big brother is doing - pulling cushions down from the couch and jump on them, climb things, try to ride his "car" (she's nearly able to get a leg over on her own). I can hear the tune playing now... "anything you can do I can do better...."

So that's our little lady in a nutshell. She so bright and fun (well, when Aunt Gigi isn't around, right? She chippered right up this evening after the big crew left...). And she has a new pile of pink threads that mama needs to wash, so it's time to wrap this one up. 

Happy Birthday my sweet Miss M. 

in the gap

Today I recieved an email that nearly brought me to tears. It was actually a facebook message notification, several paragraphs long, containing primarily school district information and links to progress plans and the like. So it wasn't necessarily what the email said, but what the email meant.
This spring kicked off year #2 that husband has been looking for a full-time teaching gig. I've mentioned his last positions in passing - a half time teacher/aid position at a ridiculously awful school and then a long-term sub post for a retiring teacher that ended in the position disippaiting for next year. Now we're on to the 2011-12 openings, and thus far there have been 2 in his subject area. For the state of Ohio.
Husband has been told 3 times that he was 2nd choice. I'm not sure it's all that comforting to know that he was *this* close. He's had numerous interviews and after several (the "2nd choice" ones) he comes home feeling really good about it. And then... no. The disappointment is suffocating.
I know that he'll be a great teacher. He was this past year, even in extremely difficult situations. It's a tough time to be - or become - a teacher. But we've been working toward this for nearly 4 years, from the time he decided to return to school for a masters. We've put a lot out there - moved, left jobs, got new jobs, juggled schedules and trimmed a household budget down to the nibs. But we did it knowing it would be worth it.
Right?
The lack of clarity weighs on us... we're willing to move for a good position, so it's been mentally tough to get settled. I couldn't even decide how much of a garden I would plant this year for fear I wouldn't be around to tend and harvest it. I told him the other evening that for 3 years now all I've wanted was to plant berry bushes, but I keep holding off to make sure we'll actually get to taste the fruit. We can't imagine where we'll be in 5 months, the future just a cloudy fog of unknown.
Don't get me wrong; we're extremely fortunate. My employer has been more than gracious with time off to have babies and yet taking on exciting assignments and working part time, but at a wage that I can afford to do so. We fell in a huge heap o' luck and blessing when we bought our house; no matter how small the paychecks, we don't fear foreclosure. Rather, we have more than enough of everything we need. Our cars run, our fridge is full and we rarely feel like we're missing anything - life is, actually, good. We both have an ongoing opportunity to take on more hours, so if an education opening doesn't pan out, we're not down to nothing. In all of this, we're very well cared for and we realize that we're blessed. We live knowing that it's going to be alright. Because it always is.
So we've lived in the tension of knowing we'll be fine yet perpetually yearning for what is next. Sometimes, hope is exhausting. 
So when Sarah J (sorry, "D", but she'll always be J to me) has taken step after step to help us, offering advice, tidbits and even writing a recommendation on his behalf, I've been taken aback by the love. So often these kinds of struggles are bore alone, but she has stepped into our plight willingly and graciously.
Our friends and family have shown concern and empathy with our situation; there have been many a prayer on our behalf. That's about all one can do, unless s/he's a principal with a business education opening next year. But SJD was put into a place that could offer us direction and advice, a practical leg-up alongside the spiritual one.
And she stepped in.
I've heard the rhetoric before about "standing in the gap" for those around us, being a voice and an advocate. I know the situation seems trivial, but I feel like that's what she's done. She went home sick, 9 months pregnant, but was sure to send us all her thoughts and advice for this simple 1st round interview. And her thoughts weren't generci, simple flippant attempts to brush us off, but rather true words of hearing and seeing our situation.
I'm thankful for friends who love like that. Even if it pans to nothing - which is likely in a district that has, quite literally, thousands of applicants a year - it's yet another experience for us to know that really we're never alone.

wa-piSH

I won't lie. H-Boy is in training. Not for his run at the '18 Olympics as the next Gary Hall Jr. (though I think we'll start swim lessons this summer), but in hopes for maximum self-sufficiency in T-minus 3 months. About a month ago I realized that if I ever want to leave the house, I simply cannot tie 8 shoes. So, from that time on, I've been introducing the boy to both daily tasks and responsibilities that I think he can handle and velcro. 

I had a few friends over one evening and they found it quite hilarious the amount of work the boy does; gets his own shoes, puts on/takes off his own clothes (except the shirt - pulling over the head is a hard one; we recently mastered socks as long as I give a good 10 minute head start from when we need to have them on). He puts his dishes (plastic!) in sink and, probably the most challenging: he is responsible for the current locale of his milk. I offer a few suggestions about where it might be, but he may have to go on a milk hunt to have a drink. He's always been pretty good about putting it on the table (even a coaster - since he was young!), so it's not too, too hard to find it out in the open. He also does a lot of carrying - groceries from the car (the light stuff! Come on, I'm not ruthless), clothes to the hamper, whathaveyou. I'm finding he also loves to do the dishes (well, he holds a sponge and a singular cup gets verrry clean while I do the rest). 

He's also a super-helper when it comes to clean up. Part of that might be due to his semi-quirky nature about needing things just right; another factor may be that I'm always having him do it. Sometimes he needs told a time or five, but he eventually gets the toys in the toy box. I wish I'd taken a picture of the giant bowling pins he lined up along the wall when I asked him to get them off my kitchen floor. 

Tonight he was in charge of putting away the books he dumped off the shelf in search of the perfect read. I've mostly been putting them back away, but tonight Mickey remained unplayed until the books were on the shelf. Once he realized that cause-and-effect relationship, it took no less than 30 seconds to have things stacked. I was in awe that it really was that simple. 

It's a selfish ambition that we've worked on these skills; very little has to do with me wanting him "developmentally appropriate" (though it's nice to have something to tell the ladies at the home visits). But I did some thinking after recent articles around education/learning that caused me to feel a bit validated. 

When I'd posted about the homework issue, I was appreciative of my kindergartener-teacher friend who shared her experiences. She mentioned that it helps to teach some responsibility, and another former-lower grade (now collegiate) teacher validated that students need that direction. After reading and hearing about kids of various ages that can't put on their own pants, hang up their coats or a variety of other simple self-serving tasks, I'd say that society probably needs to be asking a bit more of them. And insert soapbox:... what if teachers didn't have to be the ones teach responsibility? What if... gasp... parents did? 

Now let me throw another stick in the mix.

I've read some works by Mark-O and his research into the lengthening of adolescence (again - captivating for me! **disclaimer:I haven't watched the video, only read his other pieces) and it's [negative] affect on young adults. So I'm inclined to ask... what if it's happening at all levels of childhood? 

It's fascinating to me that in so many ways we ask kids to grow up too soon - trade in play time for school hours, begin organized sports as soon as the jersey fits in exchange for backyard ball and pickup games, even deal with adultish issues like love and sexuality and relationships (some before jr. high!) - all the while we hold off on giving kids a sense of accomplishment for doing things like dressing or contributing to dinner. It's as if we feel guilty for asking so much of our kids at a young age that we take the basics of life off their plate so they can enjoy youth soccer 4 nights a week. 

There are lots and lots of kids I know who are quite self-sufficient and dressing themselves appropriately; I don't mean to sound "well there's this girl I know who's daughter doesn't even..." I'm simply reflecting on a few general trends I find fascinating. And perhaps I'm looking at 2 views of 2 separate extremes. I'm not sure the kids that can't put on pants are the ones that are being asked to compose musical symphonies or hit the gym 4 nights a week. These could be 2 separate parenting deficiencies that display themselves at opposite ends of the spectrum. 

Which, I suppose, just calls me to find a sense of balance. You know, one of my natural gifts. I suppose it'll be a bit of a dance between letting kids be kids - putting play at the center of their day - and providing opportunities to grow and realize their full potential. 

the biggest kids garage sale ever

The past 24 hours have nearly convinced me to sell any of my kids toys made of plastic to resemble a real-life object. I'll only keep obscure shapes and household items. I had a long IM conversation with KLR about schooling after my sister's recent questions about my neice's preschooling next year and my own looking for H to attend in the fall (he'll be 3 in November, but school system preschools apparently do some registering over the summer, I would guess so they can prepare for enrollment, blah blah blah).
This led to adding more comments to my recent post about young kids and homework (thanks to all who responded - some fabulous thoughts that I'd not considered before! Although I would like someone to defend homework to some extent - teachers, I doubt, are assigning it without reason). We talked about ditto sheets and then into the lack of creativity that's required, which if you ask me - and you sort of did, by continuing to read this - is the shortfall of our education.
I think creativity is what breeds leaders who can problem solve effectively; they're innovators and creators. Bill Gates, as geeky as he is, needed the freedom to create and step out of "what's been done" in order to produce a staple in nearly every office and school across the country. Then I read an article scientifically validating my accusations.
So I've been paying attention to my own kids and their play learning. Yesterday H spent no less than 40 minutes with his "beans" - which I like to call his Mexican Sandbox. It's litterally a tub of raw black and white beans, a muffin tin, a shovel and an old yogurt container. He plays with them on an old shower curtain to make it easier to clean up. (No credit to myself - this idea came from a preschool teacher I know. I'm not creative enough to come up with such thing!). I heard him talking strategy about whatever he was doing with those beans. And he even helped to clean up.
Then last night he had 2 coasters, 2 round wooden pieces of a stacking toy we have and went to the kitchen to fetch 2 spoons. Turns out he was feeding me "cookies and applesauce". Try as I might to get him to go down to get the toy dishes from the basement, he wanted the coasters and spoons from the kitchen. I drew the line at real forks. It's all fun and games until someone looses an eye.
I have to wonder how often I get in the way of the play that he enjoys - and needs - so much. When I offer what he's "supposed" to play with instead of allowing him to create toys in his own environment. I don't want to hand him a light saber to play Star Wars when I can give him a stick (or one of those poles that holds up the peppers) and sit back and find out what he sees.
Somehow toy companies have convinced us parents that we're incapable of providing things to our children that both entertain and educate. Our tools must be purchased instead of created (aha! see? It's not just at the children's level). But in my limited experience, I'm finding that the kiddos just love to play adult, helping with the dishes and cooking is one of H's favorite things. They enjoy the measuring cups and wooden spoons, mommy's pencils and paper even over their own coloring books. Even as babies, the kids liked the spice jars filled with beans and sugar better than the plastic rattles that I offered.
So, I'm not really going to sell all the toys in my house. However there will be a weeding out process. I'll let his favorites stay - the barn with all the animals, for sure. But when I reflect upon his "favorites" - the bean bags, books, magnets (both mine and the ones that make music when you match), Buckeye, balls;  they're all objects that don't limit him to a single activity. Perhaps I should leave the toy procurement to the professionals - as in, the ones who play with them.