It's Football Time in TN!

Ugh.
School starts in two weeks.
I can't wait for some serious structure and routine for the kiddos.

Football season is here.


Not only is Dave coaching middle school, Eli is playing high school football. And we also have a kid in fall soccer. That is going to be alot of juggling. Dave's practices are from 3-5 p.m. and games are on Tuesday and/or Thursday. Eli practices - well, I don't really know when. But I am sure it will be every day. And as we all know, high school football games are on Friday nights.

Wait, while I am on the subject, let me tell ya how scary football is for me.

For some reason, it scares me to see Eli out on the field. I guess partly because he kicks, and when he plays, it is all on him. Also, he is so thin, and he is my baby boy, so the thought of those big, fat kids tackling him sends me into hyperventilating and sweating.

OMG.

It doesn't scare me when he plays soccer. Just football.

Oh, he also made the high school soccer team last week. That is pretty cool.

So, I am going to comfort myself with the fact that he is a freshman, and freshman don't get to start in football.

Goodbye to Pa.

My Pa died last Wednesday night.

After church on Wednesday, we went to eat. I had a gaggle of giggling children and a fierce kidney infection going on. By 9:30'ish, after a hot shower and some clean pj's, I settled down to finally watch Finding Nemo with my five kids. About five minutes after becoming comfortable with the heating pad and a little girl hanging accross my lap, the phone rings.

Pa was gone.

It is not that I didn't know it was coming. He was 84. He had been sick for a few weeks. Pa was a good strong Christian. He was of the Baptist faith. With Pa, there was never any gray area. Everything was always black and white. And he never cared to call you out on it.

Pa was a stern looking man. He always had probing eyes, looking for something I did wrong. I respected him, I looked at him as all knowing. I always felt as though everything I did displeased him.

Pa liked to whittle. One time, when I was a little girl, I asked him if I could whittle with him. So, he got me a little stick, and pulled a little knife out of his pocket and we whittled together.

Pa had many sayings that I can still hear. When he said "thought" it always came out as "throught" - and if someone dropped candy on the ground, he always encouraged us to eat it, saying "it will put alittle grit in yer gizzard."

My Pa never made it past second grade. He also didn't learn to read until later years - Granny always read the Bible to him until he decided to read it himself one day. That is how he learned to read.

My Pa and Granny were married for 63 years. When they married, he was 20 and she was 16.
They had five kids and ten grand kids - five boys and five girls.

Surprisingly, we all made it through the funeral arrangements. There were plenty of angry disagreements between siblings. All the grand kids just sat back and watched out parents act out. We made it through visitation. And then we made it through the funeral. When my time came to walk up to the casket for a final goodbye, I knew that this would be the last time I would see this face. I was not sad for Pa. I knew he was better off.

What I was sad for is the fact that I don't see everything in black and white. I have lots of grey areas. I fall short, many, many times during the day. While Pa always knew the answers for things, I question. Pa's way was to follow the Bible and Jesus. That is how he lived.

Negative.

I was in the grocery store yesterday afternoon and there was an older man there with three wee people in his cart. There were two little girls in the back (I would guess ages 5 and 4) and a sweet little boy (about age 2) in the front. I overheard a conversation that made me think about people and their stupidity.

One guy asks the older guy if those are his grand kids. He says no, the two in the back are adopted and the teeny boy in the front is a foster child.

I looked at those kids all the way through the store. I cannot imagine how hard life is for them.
Right now, their basic needs are being met. They are being fed, clothed, bathed. They go to church. But I kept looking into those little eyes as we passed and I thought about all the things they must have saw already. It is innocence lost.

I kept thinking about what predicament got them to where they are. In such short lives, they have dealt with some type of abuse and/or neglect. They have been taken away from parents or been abandoned by parents.

It just makes me mad. What is wrong with people? Why can't they do what they say? When they make a commitment to have a child, or raise a child, why don't they follow through?

Anyways, I guess that is my rant for the day. I am sure it will not be the only one. I seem to be cranky, in a bad mood. I just don't understand some people and why they don't think of their children when they do stupid things or make stupid decisions.

Sheesh.

I didn't have a title for this post, so I thought I would share what is in my head.

Here are some weekly updates.

• We have less than one month until school starts. We are all excited, apprehensive and nervous. The girls have not been to school in a few years, Eli is going to high school and Tripper is starting Kindergarten. So it is going to be a little scary for everyone as we prepare and get things in order. We talk about what it will be like. Bedtimes will be the worst.
• The kids have been swimming all day everyday it seems. Well, they are all so tan. I wish they would just take a day off and hang out.
• I really dislike school. I wish I was done. I am so close.
• I am now only working three days a week where I can spend more time with the kids and make sure everything is done. I am loving the extra time at home but I really haven't been at home. My days are full.
• I am having trouble with Spanish class. I am unmotivated - well, I just don't care. It is so bad that I went in and calculated my GPA and found out that if I make a C instead of an A it will only drop my GPA from 3.46 to 3.42. So now, I am thinking I just want out of the class. I made a 50 on my first test. My teacher emailed me and said, "It is obvious that you cannot conjugate verbs or tell time in Spanish." Um. Yeah. I speak English. And my Spanish Helpers were at camp. :)
• Speaking of my Spanish Helpers - I don't really ask them for any help. When I am studying my online Spanish class, a little dude pops up on the computer screen. I have to translate. And I listen. And listen. About 100 times. If my Spanish Helpers hear the Spanish, they come by and tell me what he says. It is nuts.
• Also speaking of my Spanish Helpers- we are watching lots of MTV Spanish and Spanish Music Videos. It is hilarious! And then the commercials are funny too. We all sit around the living room watching these crazy shows like we know what they are saying. And the girls just giggle and laugh. :)

B.

Cost for 17 hours of summer classes: $4000
Pain of going to Three- Ten Hour Saturday School Sessions: Huge
Tears when you see that you get your first and only "B" for those 17 hours - Lots and Lots.

I accidentally found my grades for the May Intersession.

I got all A's with a sneaky little "B" in the middle.

What is so disappointing is that the "B" class was the hardest class - but the class I tried the hardest in. The teacher demanded much work, a huge midterm and a final. At the end, a huge 22 page Unit Plan was turned in. I was proud of it - there were many in the class that had papers passed down from previous students. This work was my own. I could not find a paper - believe me, at that point, I woulda used it. I was (and am) tired. I work full time, have five children, a house. I have groceries to buy, dinner to feed. Baths to give.

Dude gave me a "B." I did not deserve a B. I deserved an "A."

I am not the average 21 year old Senior in college. I have a thirty minute commute - I don't live on campus. When I made it to student teaching BY 7:30 every morning, I had already got the kids up and got them ready for school. I did not have the luxury of laying around until 6:30. My day started much earlier than this. When I left that practicum, I went straight to class. And I studied. Then, I drove straight to ball games, tried to feed the kids, bath times, collapsed in bed if I made it to bed. And it started all over. For three weeks straight. After just finishing the normal Spring semester.

Anyways, I always take something with me from these mini - lessons. I know that because of this, I will look closer at each child and their abilities. I will look at the big picture when assigning some stupid grade. Grades are harmful to those who struggle. Again, the power to "make or break." That is what power teachers have.