Catch a wave and you're sitting on top of the world!! 

Heading out for that perfect wave! 

I Miss the Beach...

I have just gotten home from being on vacation in California...and boy, am I glad to be home!

My husband's brother (who has also deserted California) asked him one day..."is there anything you miss about living in California?"

His answer was besides family and friends, NO!!

But that question got us thinking...we miss the trees, we live in very neutral tones here in the desert...we miss cool nights (as it's 100 at 10:30 PM right now!)...I miss the beach...

Although, I recently had an experience that might cross that beach thing off my list.

During our vacation, my husband and I had the privilege of sneaking away overnight without any children to La Jolla...which is a beautiful little beach town just north of San Diego. We went kayaking and got to see some of the most beautiful things in God's creation. We saw sea lions from about 10 feet away, we saw magnificent kelp beds that are home to dozens of amazing creatures, we saw magnificent caves, one of which is rumored to be a smugglers cave...We went to a beautiful dinner and stayed in a lovely hotel...and the next day set out for the beach with our boogie boards in hand to enjoy the surf and walk around the tide pools. We didn't actually get in the water, it was too cold for our Arizona blood but we had a perfectly lovely time, and I relished every minute of it...but you know what?

I missed my kids. I missed their wonder and how "cool" they would think the tide pools were. I missed the exuberation as they chase and run from the waves crashing on shore. I couldn't stop thinking about how much they were missing.

Does that make me wierd? I think it just probably makes me a mom...

So as we crawled home on yet another California freeway (see my blog from a few days ago...) we made plans to take our kids to the beach...to share with them the wonder that we experienced on our little getaway.

We decided (based on our freeway experiences) to take the kids a little closer to home...to Laguna Beach to play in the waves and then we would drive down the coast a bit to Dana Point to see the tide pools there. It was a perfect plan.

But it was not to be.

Oh, we got to Laguna Beach just fine. Trudged out onto the sand with 20 tons of stuff needed for four children at the beach. I trudged back to take my three year old to the potty. We ate sandy sandwiches for lunch and soggy chips for a snack. My oldest daughter compulsively wiped every bit of sand from her body and laid on a towel trying to stay "not sandy," my six year old wandered off at least once causing me a slight heart attack...and have you ever tried to reign in the joy of a three year old at the beach? It's totally exhausting!

But when we first arrived, it was that moment of nirvana...out there, in the deep, was the perfect wave...not too big, not too far out...just perfect for teaching my two oldest children the fine art of boogie boarding...my husband retreated to somewhere far back in his childhood as he re-lived the bliss of catching the perfect wave. Bethany rode in once, got tumbled by a wave and decided that was enough for this year...Josiah looked at the waves, looked at the board and decided to wait until he was a "teenager, mom"...(he did eventually ride a few little waves into the shore) but my husband...he was in heaven...he was out boarding for over an hour.

And then it hit him.

Our car key was in his pocket when he went into the water, and now it wasn't. I think maybe a shark took it, or the Loch Ness Monster, or the perfect wave...but whatever the reason, we no longer had the only key to our car.

Now, this is no ordinary car key. This car key has a computer chip in it that has to be specifically programmed to our car. And we didn't have the code. Well, to make a very long story a little shorter...my father drove down to the beach and rescued my mother and I and the two youngest children, while my husband (with the two oldest kids) had our van towed 40 some odd miles to Norwalk to get this key made. To the tune of $150!!

Some beach trip.

Thankfully, it doesn't end there. We decided to try to end our trip on a happy note and took the kids...without any stuff...to Dana Point...to the tide pools. They got to walk in a cave, and they got to pick up hermit crabs. And we took about a hundred pictures of shells they were dying to take home and couldn't. And we ate lunch at Taco Bell and had a thoroughly lovely last day in California. We didn't even hit traffic on the way home.

But it doesn't end there either.

When we got home (to Arizona) there were two checks in the mail. One was a refund from our state taxes telling us we had overpaid them (The IRS RETURNS money when you overpay them? Who knew?) and the other was a refund from a hospital bill from 2 or 3 years ago...again saying that we had overpaid them. It was well over $150. Isn't God good? Those checks were sitting in our mail before we ever lost that key. He knew what we needed long before we needed it...He always does.

And once again I am free to love the beach, to miss the beach, and to long to visit it once again. For it's beauty, for it's majesty, and for it's overwhelmingly powerful reminder that God IS God. And He is good.

Insanity on I-10

Let me begin with a sincere apology for those of you who actually LIVE in California, not because I'm afraid I will offend you (I might) but because you LIVE in California!!

I always know when we've hit "the city," as my son likes to call it. The drivers on the freeways of California tell me in very certain terms. I know I'm in California when:

1. I turn on my blinker and the car in the lane next to me immediately speeds up so that I can't get in front of HIM when I change lanes.

2. I get flipped off for going only 20 miles OVER the speed limit in the fast lane.

3. I get flipped off for going only 20 miles OVER the speed limit in the SLOW lane.

4. I have to pay money to drive in the carpool lane.

5. I have no idea which lane to be in for a freeway on-ramp or off-ramp because they make absolutely no sense...half of them are on the right because they are a clover leaf entrance, the other half require a left turn. I'm sure there are signs that tell you ahead of time which way to turn but you can't read them because they have been "tagged" with spraypaint.

6. I have to come to a screeching halt because traffic was moving along at the speed limit (albeit #3 is still in effect) and suddenly comes to a complete stop because the lane just disappeared.

7. Did I mention getting flipped off for going only 20 miles over the speed limit in the slow lane?


I grew up in California...I learned to drive in California...and I suppose at one time I drove like every other Californian does. Either the drivers in California are getting worse, or I'm getting old...

And on that note, I have to go risk my life on the freeways of California once again to get to the fourth party of the weekend...Pray for me! I'll need it!!

Will I ever not be tired?

These days I find myself absolutely exhausted, absolutely all of the time. Will I ever not be tired?

I'm beginning to think the answer is "not this side of Heaven!"

Tomorrow I am taking the final exam in a class I have been in for the last two weeks. It is an intensive phonics program. I will come out of it with three college units and a certificate saying that I am certified to teach something I have been teaching for several years now. I guess now I can do it the right way!

I did learn a few things.

I learned a new approach to spelling dictation that might help my students become better spellers and therefore better readers. Time will tell.

I learned that if you try really hard you can tie pull-apart cherry twizzlers into figure 8 knots with your tongue while saying the six sounds of the phonogram "ough."

I learned that when you drink as many diet cokes in the last two weeks as I have you will run out of grocery money before the week is up.

I learned the precise meaning of the word "palacial" and was labeled by one of my co-workers as a "geek who loves words" because I already knew what a manse, skein, and berth were.

And now I must go back to studying the meaning of task analysis, massed and distributed practice, attention management and the precise meaning why we double a consonant after a single vowel when adding an ending that begins with a vowel. And I must ask myself if anyone really cares why?

And then I will sleep. But I will wake up tired!

Abby was Baptized today! Rejoice with us!! 

Sarah and JoJo, Best Friends for life!! 

It's official it's a CRIME!!

Well, it's official...I signed my teaching contract for next year. I'm truly more than a sub now.
I read a book not too long ago saying that teachers should stop complaining about their pay. I'm not sure what the guy who wrote that was thinking.

I have to say that going into my first year of "real" teaching (horror the thought that the ten plus years that I have taught preschool or home schooled should count as "real" teaching) has gotten me thinking a lot about what I will be paid. And I must say...teachers salaries are a crime!

This is not my opinion based on what I am being paid. I'm okay with it. But let us stop for just a moment to ponder the reality of the life of a teacher. Teachers are professionals. They come with a minimum of a four year degree. On top of that they have to have some 30-50 college units to be certified. Every year, depending on the state, they must continue their education with more units. They must also must be background checked and given clearance to work in the school environment.

They are then let loose, some with vast amounts of experience, training, and guidance, and some with absolutely none, to raise up the next generation of doctors, lawyers, and politicians... to name but a few. In many cases they have complete freedom to interpret state "standards" and create grades based on what knowledge and imput they have. There is a TREMENDOUS amount of responsibility and trust bestowed on teachers everywhere.

It is true, teacher salaries are fairly within the middle class range. This is a fact that I do not debate. I won't even begin the arguement of how much teacher's spend of their own money to make their classrooms workable environments. What I will argue is that I think a teacher's job is on level in responsibility and trust, with education levels and investment, with that of a great many professions where the respect is greater and the pay is more commensurate to the job performed.

I don't say this because I am a teacher looking for a raise. After choosing to teach for the past nine years for free, what I am making now seems like a fortune to me. But as a parent, with the knowledge equal to that of an imbedded reporter, I think my kids teachers deserve better.

It's definitely something to think about.

Memorial Day

Yesterday was a day set aside to remember.

To remember those who have gone before us, fighting the good fight so that our country can remain free. Because freedom, in all it's glorious splendor, is never free.

I have only known one soldier that went to war. He made it through Desert Storm and is a pastor now. He has a wife and kids. I am grateful to the time he gave for his country.

But as I sat pondering Memorial Day my memories flooded in another direction. To thoughts of a little boy. One who has never experienced war. He never experienced pain. At least I hope he didn't. He never experienced life outside the womb.

He was my son. He is my son. I named him Isaac. I was still in my first trimester of pregnancy when I lost him. It is only in my heart that I even know for sure he was a boy. He would have been four years old this past February.

I was told I was "lucky"....I lost him early. I was told it was "good" that I had other children already. I was looked at like I was insane that I grieved the loss of a fourth child. But I didn't feel "lucky"...and nothing about it was "good." It's been four years and I still grieve. I can think about him without crying now...but I still think about him. I wonder what he would have looked like (although I suppose he would have looked just like all his sisters and brother, we only have one mold in our family!) I wonder what he would have been like. I think about him everytime my sweet precious Sarah Joy says or does something funny. And I remember that without his loss, we would never have had her.

Out of the ashes rose a beautiful little blond song bird. And for that I am very grateful.

Life is precious.

Even a very short life.

I long for the day I will hold Issac in my arms in Heaven.

For now, I will hold onto the promise, and I will remember.

A Reminder from the emergency broadcasting system...

I was reminded by a phone call from my mother that I haven't written anything in quite sometime...pretty much since I started working.

I can tell you why that is...my life right now pretty much consists of get up and dressed in the morning...rush around trying to get four kids ready and out the door by 7:15 AM...oh, and fed, most of the time...then I get on the freeway so that I can drive 35 min to go 15 miles because the traffic SUCKS...drop all the kids but one off at my best friend's house where they are staying while I work since they are done with school for the year (lucky dogs!)....then Abby and I rush off to school...I start my day trying to teach something to a group of 20 nine and ten year olds who think their sole duty in life is to tattle on each other and tell me how things are "supposed" to be done. Then, if I am lucky and not cornered by a well meaning (or not so well meaning) parent before 4PM I leave to pick up my kids drive home, make dinner, get them bathed and in bed by 8PM do a load or two of laundry and fall, exhausted, into bed....to begin it all again the next day. Somewhere, tucked into the cracks of that crazy schedule I go to the chiropractor's, go grocery shopping, throw my children's birthday parties (there have been two since I started this job), grade papers, plan lessons, and wonder if I actually will have a job next year since I STILL haven't been given a contract yet.

That doesn't sound very positive does it? There have been moments...beautiful moments, like the day that all of my students turned in ALL of their assignments. Like the times when my three year old and I had a conversation about the fact that I have a four day weekend off this weekend. It went something like this...

"Momma, you work today?"
"No, sweetie, I have today off, and tomorrow, and church day, AND the day after that..."
"Cause that's when I miss you...when you work"
"I know honey, but we have the next four days we can be together all the time"
"Oh my JOSH! I love my Josh...can we see Josh? "
"Honey, I'm sure we'll see the Nations' this weekend..."
"When you go to work?"
"No honey, I don't have to work this weekend"
"Oh, okay...."

And with that I'm off to do another load of laundry, grade a stack of papers and make sure I have clothes to wear to work tomorrow...the weekend is almost over...As Abby has informed me....only 9 more days to go.