I can always sleep. Always. It's actually one of the few things I'm really, really good at. I was the child who had to do morning kindergarten because even at age 5, I was still taking a 2-hour afternoon nap. I was the child whose parents tried to keep her awake past 6:30 p.m. by saying things like, "Instead of going to bed now, how about you just lie down on the couch and watch T.V. with us." They tell me I never made it past the national news, which ended at 7:00. If they failed to get me dinner by 6:30, I didn't eat. As an adult, I'm happiest and healthiest when I get about 9-1/2 hours of sleep at night, and I almost always do. Yep, I can always sleep.
Except when I can't. Like tonight. It's now 1:30 a.m., and I've been trying to fall asleep since 10:00. Blah! This is such a rare occurrence that it makes me really mad. Occasionally, when I am super, super stressed, my anxiety sky rockets, and nothing I do seems to help. I am wide awake. It sucks. To those of you who experience this often, you have my utmost sympathy. Of course, rare as these occasions are, they always fall on nights when I have a full list of obligations the following day. So I lie in bed and stress over not only what was keeping me awake in the first place, but also about how I'm going to be too exhausted to function tomorrow. Double blah!
So instead of continuing with that utterly unproductive cycle, I decide to get up and blog. Will I be able to put together a clear thought at this hour when I'm this tired? With no proofreader awake this late, should I wait until morning to post this? I don't know. Oh wait...there is someone awake. It's Isaiah. He's been asleep here on the couch until just now. "You're still up?" he asks, baffled. I am never up this late; remember, I need nine hours of sleep. I explain my very occasional plight with anxiety-induced insomnia and send him off to bed. Now I am perfectly alone.
This house is quiet and dark. The only light, other than from my laptop, comes from the Halloween decoration we have in the window, which I forgot to unplug before going to bed 4 hours ago. Yep, it's 2:00 a.m. now. The quiet is disconcerting. This house, with seven of us living here, is never quiet. I wish I could say it's peaceful, but it isn't. My body is so charged with excess energy that nothing is peaceful. I wonder if Shulamith is awake downstairs. I hope not. I hope Baby Swen (and his mommy) are sound asleep. I wish I could be asleep. I really wish that.
My eyes burn. They know they're supposed to be shut at this hour. I struggle to exercise the relaxation techniques I've learned through many years of dealing with anxiety. It's not working. My mind races regardless, from one topic to another, in circles, over and over. I try to sing a peaceful hymn. I'm distracted. I try to count my blessings. I'm distracted. I try to pray. I'm distracted. I tell myself that sleep will come eventually. It always does. I reassure myself that I will get thorough the day tomorrow, even if I never sleep tonight. My mind needs that reassurance.
Time passes slowly, but then it's already 2:00, so how will I ever get the sleep I so desperately need? The night will be over in just a few more hours. Then what? How will I finish grading my papers, the ones I was too tired to finish earlier? How will I teach my classes? No, this is not a good train of thought. Back up to how I will indeed get through the day tomorrow no matter what. Yes, that is better. My eyes burn more severely, but my shoulders are still tense. Try to relax. Try to relax. It's so hard. Why is it so hard?
I can always sleep. Except when I can't.
Insomniac.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Thursday, October 25, 2012
They Call It Nostalgia, Right?
We are supposed to live in the present. It is the healthiest place to live. We all know this. Too much time spent longing for the past or dreaming of the future is not productive and robs us of the joy of right now.
Okay, fine.
Still, on occasion, isn't it okay to look back just a bit? Isn't it okay to remember past experiences with fondness? They call it nostalgia, right? "A wistful desire to return at least in thought to a former time in one's life; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time" (Dictionary.com). That's how it was the two days Shulamith and I spent in Mt. Vernon this past week. It was pure nostalgia.
Getting there, however, was complicated. I may have mentioned how much little Swen detests his car seat. I have truly never seen a baby who hates it quite as much as he does. He can go from giddy happy to raging furious in a matter of seconds; all we have to do is place him in that seat. Consequently, we wanted to arrange our travel so his car seat time was as minimal as possible. We flew into Portland Friday night and spent a couple days with my family there. Here is Swen riding on my mother's wooden cow:
Sunday evening, we rode Amtrak from Portland to Seattle. Swen was fairly happy with that arrangement, other than a brief period in the middle of the trip when his mom and I took turns carrying him up and down the train as he expressed his dissatisfaction. I was flooded with memories of an airline flight four years ago with my friend Lindsey, whose daughter Hanna was the same age Swen is now. We had gone to visit our friend Celeste in Texas. On the trip home, I carried Hanna up and down the fuselage the entire 2-1/2 hour flight from San Antonio to Denver, to keep her from screaming.
Once in Seattle, we had to get back down to Sea-Tac Airport to rent a car to drive to Mt. Vernon. That was the scariest part of the whole four days because we had all our luggage, a stroller, our carry-on bags, and a highly unpredictable infant. Ha! But no worries. It was smooth all the way. Gerald had given us clear instructions, and we had no trouble finding our way through the rainy Seattle night to the light rail, which would take us to the airport:
Instantly, as we stepped off the light rail, we found a shuttle to the car rental arena. What timing! We were feeling pretty awesome at this point...not gonna lie. We quickly selected our rental car and were on the road to Mt. Vernon. Shulamith discovered the fine art of nursing Swen in the car, without removing herself from her seat belt or Swen from his car seat, and believe me, this new skill proved invaluable! Ironically, would you care to guess which of my five babes was the only one who required me to go to such drastic measures once upon a time? Uh huh. You guessed right. Karma!
We arrived in Mt. Vernon around 9:30 Sunday night, greeted by our friends Jeannie and Larry Henderson, who hosted us in their home. Their amazing hospitality was unbelievable. We felt like we were in a luxury hotel. Each of us had our own room, with the comfort of a lovely queen bed and private bath. We rested peacefully after a very long day and awoke refreshed and ready to reminisce. It was raining hard. I had requested rain for the whole 4 days we were in the Northwest, and I got my wish. I miss it so much. Even if I never live in that part of the country again, I will always love the rain.
After breakfast at Calico Cupboard, Swen did something miraculous and totally out of character; he actually fell asleep in his car seat. And stayed asleep too, for nearly an hour, giving us plenty of time to drive around our home town.
First stop was our house:
The person who bought it from us eight years ago, used it as a rental unit for college kids, and I'm sad to say, it shows. It looked pretty run down. Still, we sat for several minutes and looked at it. So many memories surround that house. The tree we planted for Shulamith, outside her bedroom window, has grown and grown. The poem "Tree at My Window" by Robert Frost was the impetus for this way back in 1996 when we bought the house. And it is still there. So many things have changed, but that little tree is still there, though not so little.
From there we drove by Haggen, my favorite grocery store. Now you may think me strange for my obsession with this store. All I can tell you is that Haggen is the loveliest grocery store I've ever been in, and going back there, I was once again overcome with memories. From Seth in the childcare center (I know, right? What could be more brilliant than a child care center in a grocery store?), to cheer parent meetings in the Market Street Cafe, to hot chocolate with friends at the Starbucks, to the friendly faces at Peoples Bank, this was my store.
Next stop, Mt.
Vernon High School. Obviously, Shulamith had more memories here than I did, but late
Monday night, when the lights shined brightly over the Bulldog football
field, we were both taken back ten years to the days of cheer, which
pretty much consumed both our lives from 2001-2004. Baby Seth attended
more football games, basketball games, and wrestling matches than any
child his age; sadly, he remembers none of that, but we do. Such a sweet
little boy he was. Here is the high school today:
We spent two full
days wrapped in nostalgia, which of course included food. We ate at Round Table Pizza and Mama Riva's.
We roamed Cascade Mall. The food court, which had been our Friday night
ritual, was practically non-existent; only Subway and Orange Julius
remain. We rounded out our eating frenzy with fries, ice-cream, and Diet
Coke at Big Scoop Sundae Palace. How many birthdays have we celebrated
there? I couldn't begin to count. The restaurant has not changed even
one iota, including the menu. I enjoyed my long-time favorite, the
banana royal.
Okay, fine.
Still, on occasion, isn't it okay to look back just a bit? Isn't it okay to remember past experiences with fondness? They call it nostalgia, right? "A wistful desire to return at least in thought to a former time in one's life; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time" (Dictionary.com). That's how it was the two days Shulamith and I spent in Mt. Vernon this past week. It was pure nostalgia.
Getting there, however, was complicated. I may have mentioned how much little Swen detests his car seat. I have truly never seen a baby who hates it quite as much as he does. He can go from giddy happy to raging furious in a matter of seconds; all we have to do is place him in that seat. Consequently, we wanted to arrange our travel so his car seat time was as minimal as possible. We flew into Portland Friday night and spent a couple days with my family there. Here is Swen riding on my mother's wooden cow:
Sunday evening, we rode Amtrak from Portland to Seattle. Swen was fairly happy with that arrangement, other than a brief period in the middle of the trip when his mom and I took turns carrying him up and down the train as he expressed his dissatisfaction. I was flooded with memories of an airline flight four years ago with my friend Lindsey, whose daughter Hanna was the same age Swen is now. We had gone to visit our friend Celeste in Texas. On the trip home, I carried Hanna up and down the fuselage the entire 2-1/2 hour flight from San Antonio to Denver, to keep her from screaming.
Once in Seattle, we had to get back down to Sea-Tac Airport to rent a car to drive to Mt. Vernon. That was the scariest part of the whole four days because we had all our luggage, a stroller, our carry-on bags, and a highly unpredictable infant. Ha! But no worries. It was smooth all the way. Gerald had given us clear instructions, and we had no trouble finding our way through the rainy Seattle night to the light rail, which would take us to the airport:
We arrived in Mt. Vernon around 9:30 Sunday night, greeted by our friends Jeannie and Larry Henderson, who hosted us in their home. Their amazing hospitality was unbelievable. We felt like we were in a luxury hotel. Each of us had our own room, with the comfort of a lovely queen bed and private bath. We rested peacefully after a very long day and awoke refreshed and ready to reminisce. It was raining hard. I had requested rain for the whole 4 days we were in the Northwest, and I got my wish. I miss it so much. Even if I never live in that part of the country again, I will always love the rain.
After breakfast at Calico Cupboard, Swen did something miraculous and totally out of character; he actually fell asleep in his car seat. And stayed asleep too, for nearly an hour, giving us plenty of time to drive around our home town.
First stop was our house:
The person who bought it from us eight years ago, used it as a rental unit for college kids, and I'm sad to say, it shows. It looked pretty run down. Still, we sat for several minutes and looked at it. So many memories surround that house. The tree we planted for Shulamith, outside her bedroom window, has grown and grown. The poem "Tree at My Window" by Robert Frost was the impetus for this way back in 1996 when we bought the house. And it is still there. So many things have changed, but that little tree is still there, though not so little.
From there we drove by Haggen, my favorite grocery store. Now you may think me strange for my obsession with this store. All I can tell you is that Haggen is the loveliest grocery store I've ever been in, and going back there, I was once again overcome with memories. From Seth in the childcare center (I know, right? What could be more brilliant than a child care center in a grocery store?), to cheer parent meetings in the Market Street Cafe, to hot chocolate with friends at the Starbucks, to the friendly faces at Peoples Bank, this was my store.
We left town Tuesday afternoon, satisfied with all we had experienced. It's not that we wish to return to those days. We don't. It's not that we were happier then. We weren't. But in every way that counts, Mt. Vernon will always be our home town. Luke and Shulamith grew up there. Isaiah and Eli were young children there. Seth was born there. We had deep roots for sure. And were it not for the declining economy, we never would have left. But life moves forward. We must live in the present. And so we will. But on occasion, isn't it okay to look back just a bit?
They call it nostalgia, right?
Friday, October 12, 2012
As Exciting As Watching Grass Grow
You've heard this expression, I'm sure. The implication is that watching grass grow represents the absolute epitome of boredom. But does it? Well let me just tell you that when two women, both of them mommies and teachers but not gardeners, decide to plant grass seed in their whole backyard, watching that grass grow is pretty dang exciting.
To backtrack, when we moved into this house a year ago July, about half the backyard had grass. The other half was divided into four parts: a play area with swing set, an overgrown former vegetable garden covered in weeds, a horribly ugly greenhouse, and a weathered but functional tool shed. The greenhouse had to go. No question. So Mathew's dad came over and single-handedly tore the thing down for us. I think Gerald and Seth might have helped a little, but the greatest share of the work was Todd's. Without him, his tools, and his expertise, that ugly greenhouse would most certainly still be out there. Thank you, Todd.
As summer approached, the watering season began. That turned out to be a giant disaster because our underground sprinkler system was faulty. Former owners failed to disclose that little piece of information, even though neighbors told us it had never really worked correctly. With the unusually hot and dry summer, it was all we could do to keep the front yard watered, and we didn't fully succeed at that, though not for lack of trying; Gerald spent hours every day moving sprinklers around in attempt to keep the grass in the front yard green. But the backyard? Nope, didn't happen. All the grass died.
And then it was fall. Shulamith very much wants Swen to have a nice yard to play in next summer (Will he really be big enough to play by then??), and our backyard was anything but "nice," so she made it our project for September to fix that situation. Here is just one sad example of what it looked like:
I know, right?
Our first task was to pull out all the weeds. There were so many, and the ones where the vegetable garden used to be were way tall. We had to moisten the ground and then dig them out with shovels. Next, we tried to level out the ground with those same shovels because we didn't happen to have a rototiller just lying around. We did our best. Our next step was to go to Lowe's and explain our woeful lack of experience and knowledge about planting grass and beg for help.
The folks there were super nice. We told them we wanted to plant grass in our backyard and we had no idea how, but we didn't want to spend a ton of money. They suggested we get some fertilizer (can't remember what specifically) to apply first, then the seed, and then some cover dirt for over the top. Okay, got it. We bought a cheap spreader and came home excited. Well, Shulamith was excited. I was neutral by that point, and Swen was totally over the whole thing. He insisted on being held, so we took turns spreading the fertilizer, seed, and dirt.
Then the waiting began. The waiting and watering, that is. Apparently, you have to keep a newly seeded lawn moist or the grass won't grow. Also, you're not supposed to walk on it much, and you're certainly not supposed to dig holes in it. Kitty (aka Queen of Digging Holes), therefore, had to be kept inside, which of course meant one of us taking her out front on a leash every time she needed to go to the bathroom. How totally convenient.
That was about three weeks ago. For the first week, we watched close every day, hoping to see even the tiniest blade of grass peek up out of all that dirt. We were scared all this work would be for nothing. Matt's mom assured Shulamith that it can take up to two weeks to see any evidence of grass, which gave us hope, but then my friend Jane told me she tried three different times to seed her backyard, but the grass never grew. "Oh no! That's SO gonna be us."
Finally, though, about a week ago, we saw it, some tiny blades of grass. No, it wasn't a lot. Yes, it seemed to be growing in small patches, but whatever. It was grass! We grew grass. We did it. And while it's not thick and lovely yet, it's getting thicker every day. If it's not quite what we want by spring, we will throw some more seed out to fill in, but I really do think we will have a yard. A backyard for Baby Swen. And speaking of him, here's a picture in his new Halloween jammies:
Watching grass grow. Exciting? Oh yeah, it is. It totally is.
To backtrack, when we moved into this house a year ago July, about half the backyard had grass. The other half was divided into four parts: a play area with swing set, an overgrown former vegetable garden covered in weeds, a horribly ugly greenhouse, and a weathered but functional tool shed. The greenhouse had to go. No question. So Mathew's dad came over and single-handedly tore the thing down for us. I think Gerald and Seth might have helped a little, but the greatest share of the work was Todd's. Without him, his tools, and his expertise, that ugly greenhouse would most certainly still be out there. Thank you, Todd.
As summer approached, the watering season began. That turned out to be a giant disaster because our underground sprinkler system was faulty. Former owners failed to disclose that little piece of information, even though neighbors told us it had never really worked correctly. With the unusually hot and dry summer, it was all we could do to keep the front yard watered, and we didn't fully succeed at that, though not for lack of trying; Gerald spent hours every day moving sprinklers around in attempt to keep the grass in the front yard green. But the backyard? Nope, didn't happen. All the grass died.
And then it was fall. Shulamith very much wants Swen to have a nice yard to play in next summer (Will he really be big enough to play by then??), and our backyard was anything but "nice," so she made it our project for September to fix that situation. Here is just one sad example of what it looked like:
Our first task was to pull out all the weeds. There were so many, and the ones where the vegetable garden used to be were way tall. We had to moisten the ground and then dig them out with shovels. Next, we tried to level out the ground with those same shovels because we didn't happen to have a rototiller just lying around. We did our best. Our next step was to go to Lowe's and explain our woeful lack of experience and knowledge about planting grass and beg for help.
The folks there were super nice. We told them we wanted to plant grass in our backyard and we had no idea how, but we didn't want to spend a ton of money. They suggested we get some fertilizer (can't remember what specifically) to apply first, then the seed, and then some cover dirt for over the top. Okay, got it. We bought a cheap spreader and came home excited. Well, Shulamith was excited. I was neutral by that point, and Swen was totally over the whole thing. He insisted on being held, so we took turns spreading the fertilizer, seed, and dirt.
Then the waiting began. The waiting and watering, that is. Apparently, you have to keep a newly seeded lawn moist or the grass won't grow. Also, you're not supposed to walk on it much, and you're certainly not supposed to dig holes in it. Kitty (aka Queen of Digging Holes), therefore, had to be kept inside, which of course meant one of us taking her out front on a leash every time she needed to go to the bathroom. How totally convenient.
That was about three weeks ago. For the first week, we watched close every day, hoping to see even the tiniest blade of grass peek up out of all that dirt. We were scared all this work would be for nothing. Matt's mom assured Shulamith that it can take up to two weeks to see any evidence of grass, which gave us hope, but then my friend Jane told me she tried three different times to seed her backyard, but the grass never grew. "Oh no! That's SO gonna be us."
Finally, though, about a week ago, we saw it, some tiny blades of grass. No, it wasn't a lot. Yes, it seemed to be growing in small patches, but whatever. It was grass! We grew grass. We did it. And while it's not thick and lovely yet, it's getting thicker every day. If it's not quite what we want by spring, we will throw some more seed out to fill in, but I really do think we will have a yard. A backyard for Baby Swen. And speaking of him, here's a picture in his new Halloween jammies:
Watching grass grow. Exciting? Oh yeah, it is. It totally is.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
This & That
First, may I say that I couldn't be happier to greet the month of October. It's not that September was bad, but it just seemed l-o-n-g. Usually, January feels like the longest month; it's still cold, but Christmas is over. This year, though, it felt like September would never end. I found myself saying too many times, "Is it still September?" And sure enough, it was. But no more. October is here, the month of crisp, cool temperatures; longer nights; my birthday (yay!); General Conference (double yay!); and ultimately, Halloween. I'm going to pull out the decorations on Thursday and make our house spooktacular.
The temperature is supposed to drop into the high 30s this week. Mmmm. After this crazy hot summer, that sounds amazing. That is, as long as it doesn't drop down to freezing. That can't happen. Not yet. Shulamith and I planted grass seed in the back yard a week ago, and it needs to come in before the first freeze. You really should have seen us. If you think making a garden island was outside our comfort zone, imagine us trying to seed an entire back yard. But Shulamith really wants Swen to have a nice yard to play in next summer, so we decided to tackle this project. First we pulled all the weeds, which were everywhere and so tall! Then we spread fertilizer, followed by grass seed, followed by cover dirt. And we had to do all this, only when Swen would let us. He's a baby who likes to be held. Can't blame him. Don't we all? It's been one full week, and so far no grass, but we've heard it can take a couple weeks, so we are still hopeful.
Along with planting seed, at the request of a conservative friend, I wrote a blog post explaining my political ideology, and it attracted way more attention than most of the stuff I write. I suppose that is not surprising, considering we are just 35 days from a presidential election, but it still surprised me. My liberal friends (all six of them) loved it! My conservative friends (all 132 of them) were thankful to understand my beliefs; okay maybe not all 132 of them felt this way, but some did. Most fun, though, the blog post is going to be the featured article in the next newsletter of the Utah LDS Democratic Caucus. And speaking of them, they are hosting a pre-General Conference breakfast this Saturday at 8:45. It will conclude at 9:45, so everyone has time to get home to watch conference. Gerald, Seth, Shulamith, Swen, and I all plan to attend.
Yep, you heard right. General Conference is THIS weekend, as in 3 days from now. I can't even tell you how excited I am. I am so ready to hear the inspired words of our Prophet and other general authorities and auxiliary leaders of the Church. Conference lifts me like nothing else. I soak in every last word. We will watch both Saturday sessions and the Sunday morning session here at home in our jammies, but I think Gerald and I will sneak downtown and watch the Sunday afternoon session live in the Conference Center, one of the bonuses of living here in Salt Lake City. Will we take Seth? Uh, probably not. Remember last time?
Not that he hasn't matured in the last six months. He has. He is now a big 7th grader, rockin' it at the middle school. We are thankful he transitioned so smoothly from his life in Montana and now from elementary to middle school. He loves everything about it. When we ask who is favorite teacher is, he has difficulty choosing among three. When we ask who is least favorite is, he can't answer. "They're all good," he says. His favorite classes are science and business/technology. Today he brought home his first progress report. Not to brag, but he got solid A's in seven classes. His eighth and final grade, an F. Yep, you heard me, an F. What class was that? Home room. They grade home room? Apparently, he can't remember to fill out his planner and get it signed, which is the only thing he has to do for home room. Of course he thinks the planner is a ridiculous and useless waste of time (which for him, it probably is), but we will work on getting is signed nonetheless.
Oh, and the first Presidential debate is tonight. I won't wax political since I already did that. I'll just say that I'm particularly thankful this time around for the full-page spread in the most recent issue of Ensign magazine, proclaiming once again the political neutrality of the Church, regarding both issues and candidates (W00T!). And I am super excited for the debates. I'm hoping Isaiah is here to watch with us, but now that he has his own wheels, we see precious little of him. He "couch surfs" through his friends' houses during the week. We mostly see him on weekends.
Before I conclude this very random post of "this & that," I should update you on Eli. Spider bite is healing nicely thanks to modern medicine. Yesterday was his final day in Blytheville, where he has served for the past six months. He has loved it there and is so sad to leave. Transfers are today! Where will he go? I won't know that until Monday when I get his p-day email. I can only pray for a wonderful experience in his new area with a great new companion.
I am an essayist. For real. And I will return to legit essays rather than random rambling right quick.
Promise!
The temperature is supposed to drop into the high 30s this week. Mmmm. After this crazy hot summer, that sounds amazing. That is, as long as it doesn't drop down to freezing. That can't happen. Not yet. Shulamith and I planted grass seed in the back yard a week ago, and it needs to come in before the first freeze. You really should have seen us. If you think making a garden island was outside our comfort zone, imagine us trying to seed an entire back yard. But Shulamith really wants Swen to have a nice yard to play in next summer, so we decided to tackle this project. First we pulled all the weeds, which were everywhere and so tall! Then we spread fertilizer, followed by grass seed, followed by cover dirt. And we had to do all this, only when Swen would let us. He's a baby who likes to be held. Can't blame him. Don't we all? It's been one full week, and so far no grass, but we've heard it can take a couple weeks, so we are still hopeful.
Along with planting seed, at the request of a conservative friend, I wrote a blog post explaining my political ideology, and it attracted way more attention than most of the stuff I write. I suppose that is not surprising, considering we are just 35 days from a presidential election, but it still surprised me. My liberal friends (all six of them) loved it! My conservative friends (all 132 of them) were thankful to understand my beliefs; okay maybe not all 132 of them felt this way, but some did. Most fun, though, the blog post is going to be the featured article in the next newsletter of the Utah LDS Democratic Caucus. And speaking of them, they are hosting a pre-General Conference breakfast this Saturday at 8:45. It will conclude at 9:45, so everyone has time to get home to watch conference. Gerald, Seth, Shulamith, Swen, and I all plan to attend.
Yep, you heard right. General Conference is THIS weekend, as in 3 days from now. I can't even tell you how excited I am. I am so ready to hear the inspired words of our Prophet and other general authorities and auxiliary leaders of the Church. Conference lifts me like nothing else. I soak in every last word. We will watch both Saturday sessions and the Sunday morning session here at home in our jammies, but I think Gerald and I will sneak downtown and watch the Sunday afternoon session live in the Conference Center, one of the bonuses of living here in Salt Lake City. Will we take Seth? Uh, probably not. Remember last time?
Not that he hasn't matured in the last six months. He has. He is now a big 7th grader, rockin' it at the middle school. We are thankful he transitioned so smoothly from his life in Montana and now from elementary to middle school. He loves everything about it. When we ask who is favorite teacher is, he has difficulty choosing among three. When we ask who is least favorite is, he can't answer. "They're all good," he says. His favorite classes are science and business/technology. Today he brought home his first progress report. Not to brag, but he got solid A's in seven classes. His eighth and final grade, an F. Yep, you heard me, an F. What class was that? Home room. They grade home room? Apparently, he can't remember to fill out his planner and get it signed, which is the only thing he has to do for home room. Of course he thinks the planner is a ridiculous and useless waste of time (which for him, it probably is), but we will work on getting is signed nonetheless.
Oh, and the first Presidential debate is tonight. I won't wax political since I already did that. I'll just say that I'm particularly thankful this time around for the full-page spread in the most recent issue of Ensign magazine, proclaiming once again the political neutrality of the Church, regarding both issues and candidates (W00T!). And I am super excited for the debates. I'm hoping Isaiah is here to watch with us, but now that he has his own wheels, we see precious little of him. He "couch surfs" through his friends' houses during the week. We mostly see him on weekends.
Before I conclude this very random post of "this & that," I should update you on Eli. Spider bite is healing nicely thanks to modern medicine. Yesterday was his final day in Blytheville, where he has served for the past six months. He has loved it there and is so sad to leave. Transfers are today! Where will he go? I won't know that until Monday when I get his p-day email. I can only pray for a wonderful experience in his new area with a great new companion.
I am an essayist. For real. And I will return to legit essays rather than random rambling right quick.
Promise!
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