Lordy, Lordy...here comes forty

Victor Hugo once said, "Forty is the old age of youth; fifty is the youth of old age." Yikes!

No matter how hard I have tried to ignore it, that fortieth birthday is looming. (I can even hear the Darth Vader theme song whenever I pass a calendar...no joke) There are reminders everywhere - former students getting married and starting families, being called a "veteran" colleague at work, remembering things that happened in college -twenty years ago, seeing my daughter navigate the perils of adolescence.
So, how do I feel about 40? Well, I don't feel the way 40 is usually described. I don't feel old or like my time is running out. I don't necessarily feel any more mature or wise. I still don't think I've mastered a sense of personal style. I don't feel an urgent need to demonstrate how young I still am - sorry, no wild parties or sports cars or relationship-wrecking behaviors here.
I just feel settled. I'm not climbing any sort of career ladder. I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing there. I'm not struggling with small children and wishing they'd grow up so things would be easier. The road with the kids has been a bit bumpy lately, but it's nothing compared to sleepless nights with cranky toddlers. Daniel and I are in a good place. He's still my best friend and the love of my life.
I guess what I'm trying to say is I have nothing to prove. Is that what forty means? Not feeling compelled to live up to someone else's standards? Because I certainly don't feel that urge at all. I love my life. There's nothing that I need that I don't already have (well, maybe some new shoes...). I have a great job, a wonderful and loving family, a comfortable house, a solid relationship with my maker. What else is really important?
Maybe the first half of life is spent attaining the life you want and the second half is spent enjoying it. That sounds nice. I think I'll go with that. I'll try to remember it whenever I hear "dum, dum, dum, dum-da-dum, dum-da-dum."

SNOW

This has been a very cold and somewhat snowy winter by SC standards anyway. We had the sleet I wrote about in an earlier post. That was followed by a February 12 snow of about 4 inches and there is another 2-3 inches forecast for today.
One thing I love about being a teacher is the excitement over snow. Kids love snow. They love to play in it and they love to have school canceled because of snow. In fact, very few of my high school students understand that school isn't canceled just because the snow falls. They don't yet grasp the whole hazardous road conditions concept or they just really don't care.
Anyway, the Feb. 12 snow came on a Friday which just happened to be teacher workday so the kids were already home. One would think there would be less excitement. NOPE! We teachers spent all day talking about the snow. Our principal rearranged our professional development schedule just in case it snowed. We were just as giddy as the kids. Most of us left just a little early to get home before the snow started (about 4 pm). It was a fun day.
Today the forecast is again calling for snow. Teachers arrived at work with a new spring in their steps and there were smiles on every face in the hall as student made their way to their first period classes. I'm a little skeptical about today's snow, but that hasn't stopped me from walking by the outside windows on the back hall whenever I have the chance. :-)
UPDATE: DISMISSAL AT NOON!!!!!!!!YIPPEE!!!!

Tennessee Weekend

Here are the follow-up pictures for our recent trip to the Volunteer Indoor Showcase in Church Hill, TN. The guards did well and we saw some snow along the way.

Great Expectations

Daniel and I have Great Expectations. No, not the book by Charles Dickens. We do have several copies, but that's not my topic today. I'm talking about our expectations for Sara and Owen.

Daniel and I are relatively smart people (most of the time), but we have operated under a completely inane ideology for the past 14 years. We have raised our children with the assumption that they would learn from us, our mistakes and successes, and that they would have a head start in life by not having as many opportunities to "screw up". I am just now realizing how contrary that is to other choices we've made. Consider this: we have never been ones to rush the kids to the doctor for general viruses, colds, and the like. Most of the time we allow these things to run their course and, as a result, our kids have had very few visits to the doctor. We're not panickers. The fever, when treated with Tylenol, rest, and fluids, will come down. The cold will go away in about 7-10 days with the same Tylenol, rest, and fluids.
However, with behavior, we're panickers. Both kids have been well-behaved most of their lives. We had very few meltdowns in public places, they've never been fighters, they don't break things, etc. We have grown accustomed to them being more mature than their years so on those occasions when they do act their ages, I think we panic. At least, I think we have lately.

Since Christmas break, both kids have been a little more rambunctious than usual. Owen has gotten a few behavioral checks from his teachers, and Sara has gotten a couple of e-mails home from hers. Neither one has done anything really serious. No, in-school suspensions or out-of-school suspensions, no parent conferences, nothing in their permanent records. But, still, for two people who think "Thou shalt be responsible" is the lost Commandment, this has been a BIG deal. Maybe it has been too big of a deal. They're great kids. The Lord has blessed us tremendously with Sara and Owen. They're bright, they're kind (mostly), and they love God. That should be the big deal this weekend. I'm going to try to make that my focus, not the fact that they talk in class a little more than they should or forget to be as responsible as a forty year old.

Sara and Owen, if you're reading this, your Dad and I love you, we realize you're imperfect (just as we are), but we still have great expectations for you. So stop talking in class, don't forget your manners, and try to be more responsible. We're likely going to get to Heaven before you and we may get that commandment reinstated after all.

Tennessee

This post is about Tennessee, one of my former least favorite states, thanks to my first (not best) step-mother who hailed from that locale. In the past few years though, there are two things about Tennessee I have come to ADORE. One is Loveless Cafe. It's right outside of Nashville and it's wonderful. I think I would make the drive there for the biscuits alone. If you're ever anywhere near Nashville, please stop there to eat some wonderful home-cooking.

The other is the drive up I-26 to the Kingsport/Church Hill area for the Volunteer Indoor Showcase (Winterguard Competition). This is a relatively new section of I-26 and it is still fresh and pretty. The scenery is just awesome and the road is uncluttered. It's such a nice trip. Last year we spent the night at the Meadowview Conference Center instead of driving back down the mountain at nearly midnight and it was well worth every penny. We were treated to a pretty dusting of new snow and a safe, leisurely drive home.

So, this weekend we're gearing up for another roadtrip to Tennessee. Too bad Kingsport isn't anywhere near Nashville. I could sure go for some Loveless biscuits!

My almost grandpa

Both my parents lost their fathers shortly before I was born so I never had a real grandpa. What I did have was an Uncle Wallace who inspired my love of a good story. Wallace was my mom's oldest brother (19 years older than she).
He lived with us for awhile when I was really young. He had this terrific gravely voice and a sweet chuckle for a laugh. I remember he read the newspaper from cover to cover every morning before he did anything else. He'd let me crawl into his lap and he'd tell me all about what was going on in the world just like I was one of his friends and could understand it all. He never treated me like a child. I really liked that about him.
After he moved out of our house, I still saw him a good bit. He always had something for me - a toy, some candy, a Little Debbie cake (he LOVED Little Debbies) AND a $5 bill. The best things he had for me though were stories. He had been everywhere, met everyone, and done everything or so it seemed to me. He also had a souvenir of it somewhere in his house. He was the biggest pack rat I have ever known. Neesie Nash and the Clean House crew would have run screaming from his living room alone. But he couldn't bear to part with things because things were connected to stories and people and memories.
As I grew older, I saw him less and less. I was always so busy. His health grew worse. He had several heart attacks and so many times we thought this was it, but he always bounced back. He was such a fighter. In later years, Alzheimer's claimed his memory, such a bitter road for someone who valued his memory so much. He had fought heart disease and other physical ailments, but he couldn't fight off this one. I saw him last a little over a year ago and he sort of remembered me, but not really. His firey spirit and love of the tale was gone. My Uncle Wallace was lost inside a body and brain that no longer worked the way he needed them to.
His body finally gave up the fight last night. Today he no longer has a use for that failing body and his memory is fully restored. I am sure he's having coffee and Little Debbies with the angels right now and entertaining them with tales of his many adventures.

Sleet Adventures

Well, we haven't had a real snow day yet this year and that is both good and bad news. Good because we don't have any makeup days to do and bad because we haven't had any real snowy fun. Okay, I haven't. As you can see from the pictures, Daniel and the kids managed to have some fun in the recent weekend sleet event. It is amazing what fun can be had using only a trash can lid and an old jump rope! As for me, I'm not about to go out on that slick mess. I have made it to 40 (almost) without a broken bone and I'm not about to break one now by walking on some sleet. I am starting to sound so old...