Fresh Dozen

We had the most delightful surprise right after we arrived home from school this afternoon. A pick-up pulled in about 30 seconds behind us. A parent of one of LK's students hopped out with an egg carton. It was full of fresh eggs from their chickens.

When asked what he wanted for the dozen, he said nothing. What a lovely, kind thing to do!

The student had mentioned to LK a few weeks ago that they were getting chickens. LK and I have asked him about their progress since then. I had mentioned that if, at some point, they were laying more eggs than the family could eat, we would be interested in buying some.

Well, today we were brought this wonderful surprise. It was a big encouragement. And another reminder that there are some really wonderful people out here.

And, now we have a beautiful sunny afternoon ahead, and no work to do. Sounds like a good time for some hiking.

Something

On the weekend (I think) I turned to LK and said, "I think that there has been Something every single week since school started." He didn't need to ask. He knew that Something was definitely there.

Something lurking. Stealing joy. Sapping energy. Feeding into excuses for tiredness. Something that I am sick of.

How in the world do you throw it off?

The trouble is, it isn't one thing. It's Something different every week. Sometimes (well, actually often) its work stuff, and sometimes it's at home. But it's there every week.

I turned to LK tonight while we were washing dishes after supper and said, "It's not like we are Paul in Rome." But, he reminded me, we are "out there". Even though we are getting used to lots of the challenges of being here, it is still hard.

Just in case our families are worried, we are okay. We aren't Paul, and this isn't Rome. We are just two tired teachers in a challenging school situation with two amazing kids that are wonderful (if tiring) to raise trying to step forward in faith one day at a time.

And that isn't easy anywhere, in Toronto, GN, or Rome.

One Down

When I was a girl I spent time drawing dream houses. I used graph paper and diligently copied the style of 'architectural drafting' that I saw in the plans that my dad was always using for work. I had my dream house, dream barn (complete with 4 horses), and even landscaped that entire acreage of dream land that "we" would own.

I planned a spouse, who was to be neither a carpenter nor a pastor, and two children, a boy and a girl. I planned to live somewhere vaguely out of town. I planned to be a stay-at-home-mother and have playdates with my sisters and their kids, who I planned to live right down the road from.

What is the saying? Something like, "Man makes plans and God laughs." Well he sure has had some chortles over my wishful plans.

I never dreamed of moving to the biggest city in the country and falling in love with its diversity and flavour. I never planned on finding deep fulfillment in my profession. I never imagined the depth of joy that my marriage has brought. I never guessed at the wonder that having Sprouts of my own would awake in me. I never imagined living in the bush (literally) and soaking in the peace of star-filled skies and loonsong.

I love my family - adore them to bits, in fact. I am passionate about my job - perhaps to an extreme. We have a cosy house that feels like home, and even hope to own one of our own someday. The really important parts of my wishful dreams have been granted to me beyond my wildest imagination.

But the horses, the sister-down-the-road, etc. they are a distant memory of wishful thinking.

Over the years that childhood dream for sisters as neighbours has haunted me. In the past five years, it has been particularly present in the back of my mind. At first it was because I had turned to the dark side and become a city slicker (no, all Canadian do not hate Toronto). Recently because I have felt guilty for taking my kids away from their grandparents and loving aunties and uncles and cousins and such.

For year I felt like I should be and have something with my "growing up family" that I just don't have. And I have always felt like it was something wrong with me.

But I realized on the weekend that it's not me. This is the way it is supposed to be. How else could my allegiance to my husband and kids be strong enough to withstand the struggles of daily life except that I let go of the allegiances of my childhood? It is put pretty plainly in Mark 10:7-8. One set of loyalty must always trump the other.

So no more apologizing for letting go of the people who were my "growing up family". I love them. I always will, but I have left to build my own family to "grow up". My loyalty must lie with them, unwaveringly.

One personal growth issue down. Only a million more to go...

AM Inspiration

Sitting at my desk, drinking my tea, taking a few moments of quiet before the rush of the day begins - one of my favourite times of the day - and read this blog post at The Teaching Game. It reminded me of the adventures that were a regular part of life growing up in my family.

I hope that this kind of memory will be part of my kids schema as they grow up. Because school is important, but its not the most important part of raising kids. Time having adventures together is.

Have a great day!

Perspective

Last night I was sitting at my "table" (work/craft/creative/storage space for just my junk) trying to wrap my brain around the timelines and expectations for my online course. I was moments away from a complete meltdown when my DH walks by and asks why I am so stressed out.

It wasn't the course. The course was just the trigger.

We had had a staff meeting with a rebuke that was issued to the whole staff about comments on Facebook. We were reminded of school policy that we are to present a positive image to the community, and please not to air grievances about work in public. The rebuke was a reasonable one. But it got me all atwitter with anxiety.

I came home and poured over my FB comments over the past three weeks to see if anything I said was inappropriate. I considered just breaking up with FB all together. I considered deleting all 'friends' that are connected with work at all, and just maintaining my distance 'friendships'. None of them seemed like an appropriate response. Perhaps because they were all a little over-the-top. Because, really I couldn't find a comment that would lead someone to think that I was miserable working where I do. (If you disagree, please let me know, so I can address that)

So, I slept on it (something that I highly recommend when faced with a challenging choice). This morning I had a bit more perspective.

Plus LK's comment from last night, that I needed to let it go already! was true.

Now I am anxious about my blog... does it seem like I am unhappy working here?

Note to self: JUST LET IT GO ALREADY.

Happy Thanksgiving

Sometimes weekends are a welcome respite from the busy, busy, busy of the week. This weekend has been a haven of laughter and peace and fellowship after six weeks that were approaching the ulcer-inducing-stress range. It has been blissful, and there is still a whole day left in it!

We had a sleepover at camp. My new friend, Soul Sista, who is my sister-in-the-Lord and has enough of my idiosyncrasies that we could be long-lost actual sisters, invited us for a sleepover at her family's camp on Lake of the Woods. The Sprouts were a bit nervous about going somewhere new with people who they had only met briefly in church. But the lure of sleeping in a bunk bed was far stronger than the nerves.

Camp is a pair of cosy cabins, one circa 1960, when the land was first purchased, and the other added in the '90s when their family was too big to fit into one cabin. It reminds me very much of my parents' place and my sister's place. Lots of knotty pine, lots of beloved memories, and enough Canadian Shield rocks, water and sky to fill the soul with peace.

Since this weekend is possibly the warmest Thanksgiving I can remember, we sprawled on the dock with books and magazines and talked, wondering if swimming was an option. The Sprouts used a bucket of water and big paintbrushes to 'paint' the dock. LK hung out with his camera in hand and watched; observing and waiting for magic shots to unfold.

We stayed up late for a campfire and Smores. The kids slept in their bunks - Fi like a log, and Jo not-so-well (being under the weather). This morning we all went to church together. It felt like family, and it was, although not biological.

My point is that I am developing a refreshed appreciation for the ties that bind us together in Christ. There is a level of transparency that we can have with fellow believers that builds the intimacy you usually only have with people you have known for years. After several years of being outside a faith community, this blessing of fellowship is particularly sweet to me today.

So, on this Thanksgiving weekend I am deeply thankful for family. For the family that raised me; investing their hearts and souls into it. For the family that I gained when I married LK; taking on a non-Dutchie and learning, eventually, that even though I am not Dutch, I am not so bad. For the family that God has given me to raise and invest my own heart and soul in. For the family that I was adopted into through the saving work of my Lord; providing comfort, fellowship, guidance and friends in any place around the world.

Happy Thanksgiving to all my families, and all my friends. Lots of love out to you from up here in Grassy!

End Times?

Our entire administration has been away all week. They were all at a conference in Thunder Bay. That means that we had one regular office person here (I have no idea why she didn't get to go...), and that the administration job is being done by our Resource Lead Teacher.

This poor woman has no experience or training in administration, and only a few short years experience teaching one grade. She was given the role for the week, I think, because she doesn't have a classroom to run and has the most flexible schedule to deal with putting out fires. She sure has needed to be flexible, and carry a great big fire hose. But she may be forever turned off on the whole administration gig.

Last week, our dear Fearless Leader announced during the morning announcements to the whole school that he and Lady Leadership would be away all week and that the Resource Lead Teacher would be in charge. If that isn't an invitation for students to misbehave, I don't know what is.

Tuesday was pretty crazy, with many students being sent home due to off-the-charts behaviour in classrooms or taking off on their own throughout the day. LK came home and collapsed after spending the whole day managing adolescent hormone-driven behaviours in his classroom. He growled at dinnner that absolutely no learning happened that day - he spent his entire day dealing with behaviour issues. The rest of the staff spent most of our day with shut classroom doors trying to deal with students who were not behaving normally at all - to put it mildly.

Wednesday was no calmer. There were lots of fires (many metaphorical and one attempted literally) to keep our stand-in princpial running all day long. Teachers were frustrated because they couldn't find her to deal with students who needed to be dealt with, messages weren't getting through from teachers to her via the office. Her attempts to contact parents about truant students was too often met with silence on the other end of the phone line, or worse, denials of responsibility. Everyone was a bit snippy by 3:30. Well, truthfully, we were a lot snippy.

Thursday seemed to be a big improvement, until just before lunch. The bus left the school carrying a large number of primary students late in the morning, and they weren't scheduled to go on a field trip. Primary teachers were shaking there heads wondering what was going on and why suddenly a huge head lice check was happening. Even more concerning was the number of students who had head lice.

My first notice was when a staff member from the office came into class and shared that all students were being checked for head lice as there was a big infestation in the lower grades. Most lower grade students were being sent home. She would be back right after lunch to check my class.

The rules for students sent home with head lice is that they must get the lice treated and have a nurse's note to clear them to return to school. The clinic closes at 4pm during the week, and at 12 noon on Fridays. As my students were dismissed at 3:30 (they were checked too late to send another bus run home early, I guess), there wasn't a lot of time to go through the hoops before Friday morning. So, the numbers of students for Friday were looking pretty low.

Ay-yi-yi! What next?

I kad a bit of a freakout- my class is in charge of hotdog lunch tomorrow. We were going to make cupcakes to sell. Now there will be hardly any students to buy them. I already picked up the hotdogs, and have 14 dozen buns sitting in my classroom!

Then, after school Thursday, I found out that there would be no daycare Friday afternoon. It is the practice that the daycare invites families of their students to a Thanksgiving feast at noon and sends them home after that. As we were supposed to be in school until 3:30, LK and I could not participate in the feast. But we also had a pre-schooler who needed to be looked after for the afternoon. (Mental reminder to self: remember this for next year).

I figured that since I may only have one student - due to the lice scare - that it really wouldn't be that much more to just roll with it.

Then this morning students started to trickle in. Some had notes from uncles stating that they were clear, others had no note at all. A few had actually followed the rules and seen the nurse. When I asked how to handle those who who were at school without the 'proper' protocols, I was given a vague, "I guess let them stay?"

The only response I could possibly give was to smile, and go make some hotdogs.

The great thing is that my students wanted to be at school badly enough to be there despite quite substantial excuses to stay home. And they were fabulous today. They organized orders, double checked, corrected mistakes cheerfully, and were done our cooking in record time.

I have said it more than once this year - and I am sure that it will become a refrain for me - I love this class. They are a great group of kids.

But man, the chaos and insanity this week was mind boggling. Maybe it is the End Times and the Second Coming is at hand - that would explain a lot.