To the teachers, volunteers and staff of District 279

From the bottom of our hearts we would like to thank you for your time, talent and patience with our greatest and most precious gifts.

We send them off on the first day of Kindergarten… crying (most of the time we are the ones crying), only to see them return, telling us about birthdays and half birthdays and reading cafes and Friday Funday and songs about new shoes and songs about new haircuts and book nooks and the library and seeing eye dogs and much, much more. We hand them over to you when they are little more than babies and you hold their hands and you sing with them and you answer their questions and you teach them. You not only teach them things like math, history and social studies, but you teach them about life. You are their example. Because of how you treat these children…our children…they learn from you to be good and kind people. You are a soft place to fall when they are missing their Mamas or Dads. You help them to be strong when they have had a hard day. They come to know you and love you from seeing you in the hallways, the front office, the lunchroom or the library. They grow to trust you and from that trust, we trust you. We hear about your families and your dogs. We hear about your vacations and your nieces and nephews. We know your favorite candy. We know that you love coffee. We know that you drink tea. We know this because they watch and they listen. They love you. And because of you, our children grow into beautiful young men and women, right before your eyes…and our eyes.

So, from the Principals to the teachers, to the Paras to the volunteers, to the staff and everyone in between at District 279, we are blessed that you are a part of our children's daily lives. We thank you for encouraging and nurturing our leaders of tomorrow.

With great love,

The parents of your students

And When There Was No Crawdads Left, We Ate Sand

The other day, my 10 year old Calvin looked at me with his big blue eyes and asked if it is possible for people to be allergic to glass. I thought he was so cute that he asked such a random question and I pictured some person smelling a glass window and sneezing.  So, sort of giggling to myself said "Wellllllllll....Calvin, I have NEVER heard of THAT".  But then he said, "well, people are allergic to sand and glass is made from sand...".  Oh, I had never really thought of it like that.  So, I said that we should Google it (which has been a very popular response from me from the moment my kids started to question things).
 
We spend a lot of time discussing and figuring stuff out, from homework to just questions like this one.  He asks a ton of questions.  He thinks of really crazy ideas...like his invention of foot mints for stinky feet.  In fact, all three of my kids are really curious.  I don't remember being as curious as they are. Maybe I did question things when I was Calvin's age.  Maybe I asked a ton of questions and connected the dots like Calvin does, but I really don't remember.  I remember just really liking art and music.  I loved playing sports.  As I recall, I didn't excel in the sciences.

In fact, when he brought up the fact that people could be allergic to glass because it is made of sand, my mind wandered and I thought of the movie Raising Arizona.
Prisoner: "And when there was no more Crawdads, to be found, we ate sand."
H.I.: "You ate what?"
Prisoner: "We ate sand".
H.I.: "You ate sand?"
Prisoner: "We ate sand."

I am glad that my kids question things.  It keeps me on my toes.

Oh, and I did Google his question and got distracted about “moon sand”, so if someone knows the answer just let me know.

You Are Awesome!

A few years ago, I ran the Des Moines marathon. It was my first marathon and I had no idea of what was to come.  I remember standing at the starting line with my friend Nancy in downtown Des Moines and being super nervous!  As the gun went off, there was a huge wave of cheers and as I ran under one of the glass skyways, I saw a small group of people jumping up and down and cheering for someone in the crowd of runners.  They were smiling from ear to ear and holding signs and just cheering. It moved me to tears to see these people so genuinely happy for whoever they were cheering on.  Do you know how incredibly difficult it is to cry and run at the same time?

This past weekend, I competed in my very first Triathlon. The Maple Grove Triathalon, to be exact. It was an amazing experience from training with my friends, to bonding with new friends before the race, right up to the finish line. It sounds weird, but I kind of miss it.

So, today when I was out for my morning run, I ended up on the running route of the Triathlon and stumbled upon some words that again, moved me to tears.

Life moves so fast and is so crazy at times that when all the dust settles and you witness human kindness in any form, it can move you to the core.  Someone out there took time to do this.  Maybe for someone that they love or maybe they didn't know anybody in the race.  Their house just happened to sit on the race route, so they grabbed some chalk and did what they must do best...act with pure kindness.   

The Carpool

When I was in the 5^th grade, I was terrified of boys.  Actually, I am pretty sure I didn’t know how to talk to boys until I was in my 20’s.   Once the 5^th grade rolled around, I thought boys were so cute that I would literally shut down if they tried to talk to me.  I remember the summer between the 4^th and the 5^th grade being a game changer.  I remember that in the 5^th grade, the boys that used to eat glue, eat their boogers or just plain pull my hair on the playground had a new glow about them.  Maybe even a swagger.  In the 5^th grade, boys went from being friends I had grown up with to a complete mystery.

So, now it is weird having 5^th and 6^th grade boys of my own.  It is odd and interesting to hear the other side of the story.  The boys’ side.  

As I drive my boys and their friends from baseball games, to golf, to basketball clinics, I hear it all.  I love these little boys, who are quickly turning into young men.  When I was first introduced to the carpool years ago, it was torture. It was all about farting and burping and punching each other.   I can honestly say that the minutes were like hours when this would happen.

The carpool is now my friend.  It is my time to hover over their conversations.  The carpool is similar to a confessional.  Eventually, everything comes out.

Within even the last few weeks, the carpools have graduated to a new level. This past week, 4 ten year old boys discussed the fact that Michael Phelps is the most decorated Olympian in history.  It was really cool listening to them.  It was sort of surreal.  These boys that I have known since they were really little are discussing world events. They also discuss the MN Twins, their favorite sports, their favorite teams, golf scores, tournament placement, wins, losses, who made what team and now…GIRLS!  Today we discussed girls.

This is what happened.  I was driving my son Calvin and his 3 friends to golf.  One of the boys said to one of the other fellas, “I heard that some girls were calling you last week”.   I asked my son “were those the same girls that were calling you?”. Calvin said yes, they were the same girls and apparently they had called 3 out of the 4 boys in the car.  No one seemed put off by this information.  I know who these girls are and I know that the boys think they are cute and I also know who likes who (just like me and my 5th grade friends used to talk).  So, I throw out there “those girls are calling all of you guys, what's up with that” just to see what happens.  That caused a little bit of discussion.  Then, my son Calvin with his buzz hair cut, flat bill baseball hat and ears that he hasn’t quite grown into yet looks at me with a huge grin and says “THEY CAN'T RESIST US!”  And, with that, they were back to discussing sports.

If I knew how boys felt about girls when I was in 5^th grade, I probably wouldn’t have been as scared of them.  It’s all the same thing, just packaged differently.

The Singer/Songwriter

My 6 year old daughter Molly sings about everything. Everything. Since the moment she could talk, she has made up songs.  I refer to her as my singer/songwriter.  One of her soon to be very famous songs is entitled "There's a New Kid in School. What Do I Do With Him?".  She wrote that song at the ripe old age of 4.

Unfortunately, she takes after me in the singing department, so while it is cute that she makes up songs, they are usually really off key.  The songs can break out at anytime...in the grocery store, in the stands at baseball games, riding her bike.  Molly's singing has no limits.  Most of the time she walks around the room singing her songs, picking things up, putting things back down, possibly running her fingers across your face, leaning against the staircase in dramatic fashion.

Molly makes up so many songs that her brothers HATE when she sings.  Calvin, Molly's 9 year old brother recently was near tears and said "WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO SING ABOUT EVERYTHING?".  This really bothered me.  I told Calvin that Molly is creative and loves to sing.  Happy people sing out loud and there is NO WAY that I will EVER tell Molly not to sing.  Cal wasn't happy with me about my commitment to Molly's art.

This morning, as I was making my kids' lunches, I heard Molly break into song. I looked up and she was sitting at the kitchen table, eating her breakfast.  Her sweet little face was lit up with a smile and she was looking directly into my eyes.  I love when mornings are happy and there is no drama.  I was just loving the moment and then I heard the words that were coming out of her mouth.  Smile on her face, voice terribly high and off key.  Molly is singing these words to me..."Your hair is kind of crazy.  It looks fuzzy and is sort of poofy".

I have decided that I am on team Calvin.

Being a Doppelganger

The other day I was telling my husband about how I recently walked into my favorite Thai resturant to pick up my to go order and Tom, who I work with, was sitting in a booth facing me.  Tom is great guy, so I give him a big smile and wave. "Tom" sort of nervously shifts his eyes from side to side and silently confirms to himself that yes, it is him that I am waving at and slowly waves back at me like he is mentally filing me away as a potential stalker.

Sometimes, actually quite a bit, I talk without thinking.  As I was about to run over, punch Tom and ask what is wrong with him, I realize that as weird as it may seem, this guy might not be Tom. For one of the first times in my life, I stop myself and I don't talk myself into a hole.  I just leave.  A few days later, I see Tom's twin from the Thai resturant walking into Lifetime Fitness with a Lifetime Fitness uniform on.  The guy from the Thai place really wasn't Tom! 

So, as I was saying, I tell my husband this story and he says "Oh, Tom has a Doppelgänger."

Doppelganger. Doppelganger. Doppelganger. I CAN NOT stop saying that word... over and over in my head (Doppelganger...Doppelganer) since Jake said it.  I have heard it a million times in my life, but for some reason I can't stop thinking about the word Doppleganger.

I am a Doppelganger...over and over and over again.

From high school on, I have been mistaken for someone else or have been told that I look like someone else more times than I could ever count. In high school, when I started to meet kids from other schools,  I was told that I looked like a girl that went to one of the other high schools in town.

After high school, that very girl and I went to the same college and on many occassions people got us mixed up.  And to make it even crazier, there was a third girl at that same college that looked like us.  To really mix things up, I became friends with each of them. I don't think they ever became friends, so the circle was never completely closed.  Quite often, I would hear something like "how did you get here so fast, weren't you just in class".  This was during my first two years of college, so that was easy...No, I can confidently confirm that I was not in class...usually ever.

I visit doctors' offices quite a bit for work and 1 in 5 doctors agree that they know me from somewhere. Sometimes I say things like "well, I have had quite a few issues with Plantir Fasciitis, so maybe" - but, really I know we have never met. 

Recently, I was at a shoe store and a woman looked downright annoyed with me.  I asked her if I was in her way...possibly blocking her view of fabulous merchandise and she said, "No! Don't you remember me!" I had never seen her before.  We went through the usual cross referencing of friends and activities and confirmed that no, we didn't know each other.

Right before Christmas, I was shopping at Ann Taylor Loft and I just couldn't make up my mind between a necklace and pj's for my sister-in-law. I ended up not giving her either gift, but the very, very nice lady behind the counter (who I had never seen before) says "well, if you change your mind before Christmas, you can always just return it.  You are always so fun when you come in.  We just want you to be happy". Unless her idea of fun is me dragging her into the dressing room and asking her if my butt looks big, I am pretty sure she's got the wrong lady in mind.

So, last night, after church, Jake, Daniel, Cal, Molly and myself stopped at Super Target for a few things.  We were on our way to the checkout line when my 11 year old son says "Mom, those people are staring at you".  I look over at who he is talking about and it is a Mom type looking lady and her two young daughters (maybe 9-11 year olds).  She looks familiar, so I wave and she waves back and we keep moving.  I say to Daniel, "What makes you think they were looking at me?  Maybe they were looking at you and Calvin. Maybe those girls were looking at you!"  This seemed to really interest both of my boys and all of a sudden they got incredibly squirrelly.

We were about to walk out of Super Target when the Mom and her daughters walk up to us.  As I am mentally getting ready to figure out how we know each other, she (THE MOM) walks right up to my 11 year old son Daniel and says "didn't I just see you at the hockey rink!"

Doppelganger, Doppelganger, Doppelganger, Doppelganger, Doppelganger!!!!

I just can't stop saying that word!