My brother recently gave me a rapper nickname: J-Hoisy. I wasn't too sure how I felt about it until I remembered my weekend DeeJay gig. I like the idea, but feel that perhaps I should go with DeeJay Jazzy Jen.
Our Primary Sacrament Meeting Program is in exactly four weeks. Will we be prepared? It's hard to say, but, the important thing to remember here is that it will be over. You may ask Gee Jen, I thought you were in the Primary Presidency, why are you overly concerned about the music? to which I would reply In a branch where sacrament meeting attendance hovers around 35, anyone who shows up regularly has more than one calling. So, you see, not only am I the second counselor in the presidency, I am also the Primary Chorister.
If you were my mother you might say Chorister huh? That's not so bad, that has always been my favorite calling. And you'd be right. If you were my mother. You see, my mother sings well, she leads music well, and perhaps more importantly, she's always been a chorister in wards that a) have more than 10 kids show up every week, thus allowing for both a junior and a senior primary, b) have primary teachers show up on a regular basis, c) have primary children whose parents generally require that they wear shoes in church, and perhaps most importantly d) have a primary pianist.
Now, I don't want to complain--well, yes I do. If a girl can't complain on her blog, where can she? I find it difficult to get a handful of children aged 3 to 11 with inconsistent attendance, to learn and sing primary songs with a cd accompaniment. I find myself constantly fumbling with the buttons, trying to rewind just a little bit to review a section, switching cds to change songs and so forth. But, I must say, I've gotten quite adept.
This Sunday was the day I decided to pass out the parts. We have exactly 3 sundays to prepare for the program so I figured we'd work the first half today, the second next week and the whole shebang the week before the program. Then I got to church and realized we had 8 children there (not poor attendance for our primary) and one teacher. So, I spent the second hour with the three from the 8-11 class, reviewing their parts. Then, just prior to the last hour where we were to have our grand rehearsal, four of the children went home with their parents. This left us with four children aged 8-6-5-3. Try having a rehearsal with that motley crew.
To their credit, they did well. We read their parts and practiced some songs. I have written the program such that if hell freezes over and everyone shows, we'll go a bit long. But, it's also been written such that we just skip the parts of no-shows. Assuming a certain percentage of no-shows, and assuming that every 8-12 year old who shows prepares their assigned 2 minute talk, we should be able to cover the proscribed 30-40 minutes. I suppose that is a blessing in disguise for these children. Whereas most children in regular wards will get to say a one sentence part if they're lucky, every one of these children have at least 3 parts, and the Valiant class have page long parts and 2 minute talks. So, it's a lot to ask of them, but also a good learning experience.
The icing on the cake for the upcoming program is that my husband will be out of town. So, in addition to DeeJaying and leading, I'll have my two-year-old on my lap (probably pushing the buttons on the CD player) and my five-year-old likely refusing to sit on the stand and opting instead to sit in the front row and fight with his brother over the CD player. DeeJay K-Diddy (Ethan) and DeeJay E-Monkey (Elliot). I'll let you know how it goes.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Guilty Pleasures
Elliot's new guilty pleasure is sitting in Ethan's car booster seat while Ethan's at school . . . don't tell Ethan.
Weak in the Knees
Knee replacement surgery runs in my family. As do torn ACLs, general knee surgery and obesity. I know what you're thinking--get over the obesity and you could do away with the knee problems. That is a good theory but considering that the men in my family don't generally get the obesity until their thirties and my brothers all tore their ACLs in their teens and twenties, I think that obesity is an aggravant, not a cause.
Now, being female, I did get the childhood obese end of the stick as it were. But, I never did tear anything. I was diagnosed with the dreaded Osgood Schlatter's disease as a youth. And although I get random pain and swelling alternating in my knees, I'd yet to incur any semi-serious to serious injuries--until last night that is.
What was I doing last night you may ask? Hiking through camp? Biking? Preparing for a triathalon? No, of course not. I was at orchestra rehearsal. You see, the tuba part had somehow mysteriously been lost in the mail and as I am now somehow the orchestra librarian, the best solution I could come up with at the start of rehearsal was to borrow the conductor's score, head to the library and copy all 100 pages for the poor tuba player who has like 10 notes the whole piece.
So, I found the college library, walked around to the front and began to ascend the wide staircase to the door at an angle. These steps are narrow enough for someone on an important mission to be able to take two at a time, I thought. So, I planted my right foot on the bottom step and pushed off, intendint to hit the third step with my left foot. Instead, I felt a bit of a pop on the outside of my knee joint, reconsidered taking the steps by twos and hit the second with my left foot. When I again planted my right foot on the third step, I felt significant pain.
Well, I couldn't let a little pain stop me. I proceeded into the library, made the copies, rushed back to rehearsal, finished rehearsal, carried everything to my car at a dead hobble, got in and started crying.
I called my husband and cried some more. Then I went home, took some advil and cried some more while I googled knee injuries.
Another thing that runs in my family is internet self-diagnosing. I have determined that I did something to my LCL (Lateral Collateral Ligament). Considering the non-violent nature of the injury and the fact that today it seems much improved, I believe I may have just over-streched the ligament. After my self-diagnosis, I determined that I just needed some rest (yeah right), some ibuprofin and ice. I have been hobbling around with a crutch or walking stick (until one of my children wanders away with it to play horsey or smack his brother). If it doesn't improve markedly in the next three days, I promise I'll call the doctor and let him know what the problem is.
Now, being female, I did get the childhood obese end of the stick as it were. But, I never did tear anything. I was diagnosed with the dreaded Osgood Schlatter's disease as a youth. And although I get random pain and swelling alternating in my knees, I'd yet to incur any semi-serious to serious injuries--until last night that is.
What was I doing last night you may ask? Hiking through camp? Biking? Preparing for a triathalon? No, of course not. I was at orchestra rehearsal. You see, the tuba part had somehow mysteriously been lost in the mail and as I am now somehow the orchestra librarian, the best solution I could come up with at the start of rehearsal was to borrow the conductor's score, head to the library and copy all 100 pages for the poor tuba player who has like 10 notes the whole piece.
So, I found the college library, walked around to the front and began to ascend the wide staircase to the door at an angle. These steps are narrow enough for someone on an important mission to be able to take two at a time, I thought. So, I planted my right foot on the bottom step and pushed off, intendint to hit the third step with my left foot. Instead, I felt a bit of a pop on the outside of my knee joint, reconsidered taking the steps by twos and hit the second with my left foot. When I again planted my right foot on the third step, I felt significant pain.
Well, I couldn't let a little pain stop me. I proceeded into the library, made the copies, rushed back to rehearsal, finished rehearsal, carried everything to my car at a dead hobble, got in and started crying.
I called my husband and cried some more. Then I went home, took some advil and cried some more while I googled knee injuries.
Another thing that runs in my family is internet self-diagnosing. I have determined that I did something to my LCL (Lateral Collateral Ligament). Considering the non-violent nature of the injury and the fact that today it seems much improved, I believe I may have just over-streched the ligament. After my self-diagnosis, I determined that I just needed some rest (yeah right), some ibuprofin and ice. I have been hobbling around with a crutch or walking stick (until one of my children wanders away with it to play horsey or smack his brother). If it doesn't improve markedly in the next three days, I promise I'll call the doctor and let him know what the problem is.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Sommer Dreams
I don't typically use my blog to make major family announcements, but perhaps just this once. I thought this day would come much farther down the road, but I suppose we embrace things as they happen. We haven't had a wedding in the family for some time, so I suppose we're about due. Here goes: Ethan is getting married.
Yesterday as I drove him to school I asked him about the other kids in his class. Ever since the kindergarten camp week in August, he's talked about a girl with a lemon necklace named Sommer. I asked him if he plays with any of the boys in his class. He said yes, but that Sommer follows him around and vice versa. Then he added that soon he and Sommer would be spending even more time together.
Why's that? I asked.
You have to guess.
Akward silence, big grin on his face.
We're getting married.
Really, when?
Not until we're grown up. But it's good to find out who you're going to marry when you're still little.
Ah, Sommer lovin' happened so fast . . .
Yesterday as I drove him to school I asked him about the other kids in his class. Ever since the kindergarten camp week in August, he's talked about a girl with a lemon necklace named Sommer. I asked him if he plays with any of the boys in his class. He said yes, but that Sommer follows him around and vice versa. Then he added that soon he and Sommer would be spending even more time together.
Why's that? I asked.
You have to guess.
Akward silence, big grin on his face.
We're getting married.
Really, when?
Not until we're grown up. But it's good to find out who you're going to marry when you're still little.
Ah, Sommer lovin' happened so fast . . .
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Fool
As the boys have grown, Elliot has become, somewhat annoyingly if you ask Ethan, Ethan's shadow. It's been rather fun therefore to see Elliot turn into his own person every day while Ethan's away at school.
Where Enah?
You know where Ethan is, where did we take him this morning?
Enah at fool?
Yes, Ethan's at school.
He's become quite a little chatterbox. He flirts with the camp staff, does puzzles, plays games and watches moomies.
He's become my little buddy. I'm remembering what it was like to hang with just Ethan before Elliot was born. It's an odd feeling to have to think about activities for him to do rather than just breaking up fights between brothers.
Lately he's entered the NO! I do it myself! phase with hurricane force. Mix that with a good two-year-old tantrum and you have quite the storm.
Yet, the minute Enah gets home from fool, he immediately reverts to shadow.
The other day in the car, we notice he's covered himself completely with his favorite blanket. Then we hear:
Where Are Me?!
Where Enah?
You know where Ethan is, where did we take him this morning?
Enah at fool?
Yes, Ethan's at school.
He's become quite a little chatterbox. He flirts with the camp staff, does puzzles, plays games and watches moomies.
He's become my little buddy. I'm remembering what it was like to hang with just Ethan before Elliot was born. It's an odd feeling to have to think about activities for him to do rather than just breaking up fights between brothers.
Lately he's entered the NO! I do it myself! phase with hurricane force. Mix that with a good two-year-old tantrum and you have quite the storm.
Yet, the minute Enah gets home from fool, he immediately reverts to shadow.
The other day in the car, we notice he's covered himself completely with his favorite blanket. Then we hear:
Where Are Me?!
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Hypothetically Speaking
Let’s go back to our hypothetical friend Sara. Let’s pretend that Sara works at a very family friendly organization located on a large property. The organization owns many tools and pieces of equipment in order to maintain this property. Meet Sam, Sara’s husband. Sam, who is not an employee, has been given permission to use some of the tools at the organization because, like I said, it is a family friendly organization. While Sam is occupied with the tools, their 9-year-old son Mason is hanging around. Somewhere along the line, Sam gives permission to Mason to hop into a golf cart owned by the organization and take it for a little spin. This being a family friendly organization, there are other employees’ children around. Mason, being adventurous, offers to give two other children, aged 5 and 8, a ride. Their mothers whose spouses are also employees, make this discovery and are understandably upset. What would you do? Talk to Sam directly? If this were a regular neighborly situation, yes, that is perhaps the proper course of action. You might approach Sam and discuss the apparent safety concerns, ask him to keep his child and cart on his own property, or keep your child on your own. But, let’s consider a couple of things:
1) The golf cart belongs to the organization, and it is against policy not only for non-employees to drive it, but obviously for any child to do so.
2) The incident occurred on organization property. The safety concerns and liability are considerable.
3) Knowing Sam, he’s likely totally unconcerned.
4) Sam’s wife, Sara is easily offended.
5) Both Sam and Sara already feel like they are unfairly treated by the higher-ups in the organization.
Maybe I’m an overprotective parent—I know, we all grew up without seatbelts and lived to tell about it. But can you just imagine how you would feel in the unlikely event that your child injured or killed someone else’s child (or himself) in such a preventable situation? 9-year-olds may have the dexterity to operate such a vehicle, but there are reasons we don’t give out driver’s licenses to them. Any number of horrible accidents could occur including pinning under, between, around, falling, crashing etc. Beyond bodily damage, let us also consider the risk of property damage.
So, in our hypothetical situation, let’s suppose that the mothers opt to discuss this with their husbands who are employees of the organization. One of them, chooses to bring it up directly with Sam. What is Sam’s reaction? Perhaps he says “Oh, gee, I didn’t realize he was driving it, let alone offering rides, I’m sorry.” Or maybe “Oh, I didn’t think of it that way, I’m sorry, won’t happen again.” Or just maybe, “What, am I a big mean guy that they can’t come talk to me? Come on, 7-year-olds drive those things! What’s the big deal?”
What’s the BIG DEAL?!? The big deal my friend is that the cart is not yours, the property is not yours, you are not an employee (and neither is your child for that matter) and if, heaven forbid, something should happen, the repercussions in terms of publicity, liability, life and limb are enormous. Not to mention your wife could probably lose her job whether or not there is an incident.
What grown adult thinks this is okay? Perhaps the reason I didn’t want to discuss it with you myself is that it is like talking to my 5-year-old, but more frustrating because you should know better.
Don’t get me wrong, I like this hypothetical Sara and Sam. They are nice people. They are fun to be around and very kind. They do nice things for me and my children like to play with theirs. But, as evidenced by my last Sara posting about the library, they can be very frustrating because they treat rules like a big smorgasbord and tend to have double standards where their own children are concerned. While it does allow for discussions with our children about how not everyone chooses to obey the rules and just because Sara says it’s okay for her kids, it’s not okay for ours and so on, it does make parenting in vicinity more of a challenge. It makes life around here difficult, because we all have privileges and as many an adage suggests, it only takes one to abuse privileges to the point of ruining it for everyone. It makes friendship a challenge, because it’s hard to want to hang out with people who are constantly doing things you just disagree with vehemently. It obviously rubs off on their children and you certainly don’t want it rubbing off on your own. I know, live and let live right?
I should really spend less time fretting about hypothetical situations
1) The golf cart belongs to the organization, and it is against policy not only for non-employees to drive it, but obviously for any child to do so.
2) The incident occurred on organization property. The safety concerns and liability are considerable.
3) Knowing Sam, he’s likely totally unconcerned.
4) Sam’s wife, Sara is easily offended.
5) Both Sam and Sara already feel like they are unfairly treated by the higher-ups in the organization.
Maybe I’m an overprotective parent—I know, we all grew up without seatbelts and lived to tell about it. But can you just imagine how you would feel in the unlikely event that your child injured or killed someone else’s child (or himself) in such a preventable situation? 9-year-olds may have the dexterity to operate such a vehicle, but there are reasons we don’t give out driver’s licenses to them. Any number of horrible accidents could occur including pinning under, between, around, falling, crashing etc. Beyond bodily damage, let us also consider the risk of property damage.
So, in our hypothetical situation, let’s suppose that the mothers opt to discuss this with their husbands who are employees of the organization. One of them, chooses to bring it up directly with Sam. What is Sam’s reaction? Perhaps he says “Oh, gee, I didn’t realize he was driving it, let alone offering rides, I’m sorry.” Or maybe “Oh, I didn’t think of it that way, I’m sorry, won’t happen again.” Or just maybe, “What, am I a big mean guy that they can’t come talk to me? Come on, 7-year-olds drive those things! What’s the big deal?”
What’s the BIG DEAL?!? The big deal my friend is that the cart is not yours, the property is not yours, you are not an employee (and neither is your child for that matter) and if, heaven forbid, something should happen, the repercussions in terms of publicity, liability, life and limb are enormous. Not to mention your wife could probably lose her job whether or not there is an incident.
What grown adult thinks this is okay? Perhaps the reason I didn’t want to discuss it with you myself is that it is like talking to my 5-year-old, but more frustrating because you should know better.
Don’t get me wrong, I like this hypothetical Sara and Sam. They are nice people. They are fun to be around and very kind. They do nice things for me and my children like to play with theirs. But, as evidenced by my last Sara posting about the library, they can be very frustrating because they treat rules like a big smorgasbord and tend to have double standards where their own children are concerned. While it does allow for discussions with our children about how not everyone chooses to obey the rules and just because Sara says it’s okay for her kids, it’s not okay for ours and so on, it does make parenting in vicinity more of a challenge. It makes life around here difficult, because we all have privileges and as many an adage suggests, it only takes one to abuse privileges to the point of ruining it for everyone. It makes friendship a challenge, because it’s hard to want to hang out with people who are constantly doing things you just disagree with vehemently. It obviously rubs off on their children and you certainly don’t want it rubbing off on your own. I know, live and let live right?
I should really spend less time fretting about hypothetical situations
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Pants
Ethan started Kindergarten last week. I didn’t even think to take a picture. Mother of the year. Tomorrow, I’m going to let him take the bus home . . . this is a big step, for mom. It should give me some sanity though, considering the 90 minutes it’s been taking to pick him up from school (30 minute drive, 30 minute wait in line, 30 minute drive home). Maybe I’ll take pictures as he gets off the bus tomorrow.
He’s done very well, or so I’m told. Matt says they frown on parents hovering outside the classroom door, or installing video cameras in the classroom. I have no doubt his teacher is doing an excellent job. I’m just struggling to believe Ethan is not manifesting his superbly defiant and stubborn nature with her.
Today he came home with a blue dot instead of the usual green. This indicates he had some difficulty today and had several warnings. He refused to tell us what had happened though. I’m not surprised. This morning was a rough morning.
Tuesday evening, we pick out clothes, try on as necessary and decide on the outfit of the day.
Wednesday morning, I try and wake Ethan up.
I’m tired!
I know, me too. Car is leaving in 15 minutes.
School’s boring, I don’t want to go.
I know. Car is leaving in 14 minutes.
MOOOOOOOOMMMM!
Yes?
I’m tired!
I know, me too. Car is leaving in 10 minutes. Are you going dressed or in your pajamas?
I’m just going to follow you wherever you go. I won’t stay in class.
That may be true. Here are your clothes. Car is leaving in 5 minutes.
These pants are too loose!
Would you like me to tighten your belt?
NO! I NEED DIFFERENT ONES!
Alright, here are different ones.
THEY’RE TOO TIGHT!
That’s terrible. Car is leaving in 3 minutes.
MOM!!
I’ll take these things to the car and come back and check on you before I leave.
MOM!! THESE ARE TOO TIGHT!
Gee, that’s strange. Those are the ones that were too loose a couple of minutes ago. Car is leaving now.
Much more whining and crying ensued. The beauty of the 30 minute drive to school is that generally by the time we get there, he’s awake, happy and ready to go.
Bye mom! I love you!
Bye sweetheart, have a good day!
Do you ever find yourself making up complex excuses to get out of doing something you don't want to do. The next time I find myself in that situation, I think I'll just get weepy and complain that my pants are too tight. You'll know what I mean . . .
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