the anti-bucket list

Young people would never think to write such a list. A list of things you never want to do before you die. 

Like this:

Ride in an ambulance 

Have a major surgery 

Have a long stay in the hospital 

Have home health care

Experience the death of a spouse 

Divorce 

Experience the death of a child 

Be in a major car crash

Break a bone

Need crutches/walker

Need a wheelchair 

Have a 3rd degree burn

Have cancer

Get fired

Require physical therapy 

Need to overcome an addiction 

Really the list is terrible and long. 

Unfortunately, the older I get the more things I check off my anti-bucket list.

table vs foot

 In this game of table/foot-  table won.

While I was arranging my classroom and getting ready for school to start a small table/student desk fell on my foot.  At the moment of the showdown, I was on the phone with my daughter's teacher.  I tried to pretend it wasn't happening and got off the phone as soon as I could.

When I looked at my foot I was shocked to see how swollen it was.  It looked like there was a golf ball under my skin.  I talked to the school nurse- who said, "Looks bad- you better go get an X-ray."  I didn't think it was broken, it hurt but more like a 4 out of 10.  I could move my toes and walk- so I hobbled out the door.  My DH came to pick me up and took me to an urgent care.  

They X-rayed my foot and said it wasn't broken, just bruised.  It would look worse, but should be back to normal within two weeks.

Cool-cool-cool.

So-toward the end of the two weeks- it was actually swelling and hurting more than it previously had. I went back to the clinic for a follow-up.  I was seen by a different doctor who took another X-ray.  My foot was still not broken.  But the doctor said it looked pretty bad, and it might be infected.  (I'm not sure how- she said it was something about deep tissue damage . . . ) she gave me a post-op shoe, antibiotics, and recommended physical therapy.  

Ugh.  Here's the thing- as a teacher I only get 10 days off for the whole year.  If I miss even part of a day I have to take a half day off.  I have no intention of taking six half days in August.  

The problem is it is a workman's comp thing so if I don't do all the things and it gets worse they are going to say "Well, you didn't do all the things. It's your fault if it's not healing right."

I have another follow-up appointment on Monday to see if we can get it all worked out.  I also need to talk to the admin at school to get some time off without taking my personal days.

an appointment for a dental evaluation

 

So- we had to change dentists because of insurance changes.  My girls all need some work- and hubby and I are terrible about dental appointments.  Of all the things that cause me anxiety on the level that I would like to have medication- it is dental work.

I knew I needed some work done, but since this was a first-time appointment, I thought they would just do the checkup, take some ex-rays, and tell me how much everything would cost.  I would then make the next appointment and go about my business.  HOWEVER- that was not the case.  They did the evaluation, took the ex-rays, told me what I needed and how much it would cost then said, "So we'll do the deep cleaning and the crown right now."

And I was (like a dummy) all, "Yeah, okay."

Five and a half hours later all the surfaces in my mouth hurt as I was leaving the office. 

What- the- WHAT!

First of all, they make their own crowns in-house in two hours- which means there is an inordinate amount of scanning that occurs.  Second, they were extra busy, and the dentist kept losing track of her dental assistant.  When she found him she got to work grinding and drilling out an old crown at the very back of my mouth.  

Then when the dental hygienist wasn't available the dentist decided to go ahead and do my deep cleaning herself.  

She turned that water pick up to FULL BLAST and intensively and aggressively gave her full attention to all my plaque. It felt like she was shoving razor blades between my teeth and gums.  I kept trying to repeat Psalm 23 to myself to calm down- but I couldn't even do that because I would get lost and start over every time I started wondering why this woman hated my gums so much."You set a table before me in the presence of my enemies."  Finally, the hygienist walked in and the dentist said, "Oh there you are- I finished the bottom- but I'm not sure I got everything- so go over it again and then continue to the top." NOT SURE SHE GOT EVERYTHING?!  MY GUMS ARE HANGING IN TATTERS!

The hygienist was calm and as mild as milk.  She introduced herself and said, "Ok, let's see how it looks." She picked up the water pick again, I closed my eyes and thought, "The Lord is my shepherd . . . " Then she proceeded to prod around and although I know she turned on the pick because I could hear it, in my mouth it felt like a gentle rain - a warm summer shower,  pleasant and refreshing- "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters," and I feared no evil.

Then she said, "Ok, so I'm going to put some numbing gel on your upper gums before I start those ones, is that okay with you?" Have mercy, I was actually looking forward to a deep cleaning from this dental angel.  THEN THE DENTIST CAME BACK IN and said, "I'll finish."

"Lo- though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . ."

Then the dentist said, "I'm going to finish with the laser."

Verily- the laser was much less vengeful than the water pick. 

Then after all that- it was time to put on the crown.  

I think we were all tired by that time, so even though the crown was sitting a bit high after four adjustments I said, "It's fine-yeah it's okay now."

And I have two more appointments next week.  

I wonder #3

 I wonder if people with upper dentures still burn their upper pallets on hot food and drinks, or if the dentures double as a heat shield.  

Lailah Logic: cowboys

 Lailah: "Mama!"

Me: "What?"

Lailah: "If a guy has cowboy boots, and a  cowboy hat, and a horse, he's not a cowboy . . . unless he has a cow."

Me: "Umm . . . well . .  . I suppose that's true- sort of  . . ."

I wonder #2

 I wonder what dehydrated watermelon tastes like.  

Just kidding- I already know.  I legit wondered that last week, so I dehydrated some ... and it is amazing.

 Will do again.

I wonder #1

 I wonder who looked at a sugar cane plant and thought, "I'm gonna eat that and change the world 🌍.

All the princesses

 I don't remember wanting to be a princess when I was a little girl. No, I take it back.  I did want to be a princess.  I wanted to be Wonder Woman- who is of course a SUPER-godess-Princess.

My girls all had (or are currently having) a princess stage.

Much of our princess inspiration came from shoes.  They all liked dresses for a while, tiaras, jewelry etc- but the shoes . . .  They needed to wear the princess shoes at every possible opportunity. I wish I had a picture of the shoes of the other girls once they had finished with them.

The shiny shoes, the 'high heels,' the bows, the sparkles, and the beatdown that little kids give to their favorite shoes.

E's first word was 'shoe.' One of her favorite pairs of shoes was a pair of shiny pink cowboy boots. She wore them until they were two sizes too small, and worn down to nubs. Then we got her a new pair of cowboy boots.  She wore them down too.  Now she's a Converse girl, but sometimes the heels still call to her.

L's favorite shoes were red flats with red glitter all over them. I would find red glitter all over the place. No matter what other color she was wearing, she also had to wear those red "there's no place like home" shoes. She was so hard on shoes that she wore out the first pair, and when I said she couldn't wear them anymore because they fell apart she wouldn't stand for it.  She insisted that she NEEDED those shoes. I went and bought another pair.  This one is very picky about shoes and socks.  If they aren't just right for her she refuses to wear them. I've learned that Sketchers usually work.

T's favorite shoes are above. These are 'Elsa shoes.' I had to throw them away in secret.  Even though they haven't fit in over a year- she would try to stuff her little feet into them if I gave her a chance.  This girl is now working through a pair of pink princess shoes, but she'll need something new soon.

My girls are all excited that this year they are transferring schools.  The new school does not have a uniform- which of course means they can wear any color and style of shoes they want.  

Viva the princess shoes!

spinning right-round-baby-right-round like a record baby right-round-round-round

 Some years ago my husband bought me a spinning wheel.  It's quite an expensive item.  I call it an apocalyptical hobby. When the world falls apart- we're still gonna need socks and sweaters.

I found my first attempt on the wheel the other day.  I didn't have a teacher- just me and YouTube on the loose with a spinning wheel.  My first spin was all the things.  It was overspun and underspun- meaning it had too much twist or too little twist.  It was all the sizes possible from as thin as thread to what is standardly called "super bulky."  

I didn't know what to do with it, so I put it up on a shelf and forgot about it.  

I went on to join a Facebook spinning group and committed to spinning 20-30 minutes each day.  It got easier if not better. :) Last summer I did the same and since my spinning attempts were pretty terrible I bought some "practice roving." AKA cheap, mostly synthetic "wool."  My Facebook group was not happy about my choice- something about microplastics- blah-blah-blah.  

I spun and spun that cheap-o fiber- I think I made some good improvement to be honest.  Then I started teaching at high school and I haven't touched my wheel since. 

Boo- but this summer I'm back to it- starting maybe this weekend.  I'm going to do a little practice spin to get myself started, and then I'm going to spin some of my collected wool- my pretty, and expensive wool.  

Darling- do you need to hear this as much as I do?  Don't bother saving your nice things for a special day.  You woke up . . . so today is special!

I kitted a swatch of my first spin.  

Summer list 2024

 I have a list of the things I try to do each day in the summer.

I don't get to all of them, but this is a way of building habits.

1. I listen to the bible in a year podcast. (I completed the 2022 podcast, even if it did take 1.5 years)

2. I study Spanish on Duolingo. (I got a 400+ day streak in French.)

3. I complete some training required for work. (I'm trying to get all my online training complete before classes start, AND get my curriculum worked out for each six-week grading period during this summer= GOALS.)

4.  I work on the never-ending tasks of laundry and dishes. What can I say? We love to eat and get dirty.

5. I draw or paint something. I completed my little notebook last year- I've been working on my "Praying in Color" notebook.  I have about 35 pages left. Here is Joy from the Fruit of the Spirit series.

6. I 'yarn' something. This is what my children call anything I do with yarn. I am *ALMOST* done with last year's goal of 100 baby booties to donate.  So close now!

7. I organize- or try to organize something- this includes getting rid of things we don't need. Need?  We don't even want lots of it.  We are all pack rats.

8. I clean something I have been actively avoiding for a while. Yesterday I bleached the floor in the bathroom.  I'm allergic to bleach- so even though I needed to do it for ever so long- in the end it wasn't really that bad of a job.

9. I read a few pages (or more) from a book that I want to read.  I'm rereading The Red Tent now.  I'm not sure what's next.  

10. I relax.- I mean half of the things on this list are relaxing things- but I make sure to include it just for funsies. This usually means watching TV and knitting or taking a nap. 😏

There are a few more things I would like to add- but I haven't yet.

I would like to take a walk each day.  

I would like to sew something each day.

I would like to start spinning again.

Yesterday while organizing I found my long-lost first spool of spun wool.  That little gem deserves its own  post.  

I would like to write something each day.

I would like to sleep more too, but I have so many other unnecessary things to do!

First day of "Summer"

Yesterday was graduation.

I haven't been to a high school graduation since I was in high school.

Yesterday My school pushed more than 600 graduates through in two hours.    It was at Globe Life Park.  The section I was guiding was just behind home plate.  The graduation stage was past 3rd base.  

Fortunately, the graduates didn't have to run the bases, they left the stands and then came out through the tunnels the players use to get on the field. The families sat in the balcony seats.  

There has been severe weather in the area for several days now- but it held off for my school's graduation.  

I don't get to know a lot of students.  I have small classes, and I see each student twice in a week.  Instead of having six classes of thirty students each, I have essentially three classes of 15 students each. 

Sometimes I have a great relationship with my students, and sometimes I want to strangle them.  I teach freshmen- and they are all immigrants, so some of them move away before they graduate, some of them drop out to get jobs.

I volunteered for graduation this year because a few awesome students from my class graduated this year. 

One student had studied English in her country, but in an English as a foreign language kind of way.  She came to the USA and took English 1 and English 2 her first year.  In her second year she took English 3 and 4, in addition to all her other required classes.  She rocked them all and got a FULL scholarship to an excellent private university.  

The other student did not study English in his country.  He got here through unbelievable hardship.  He followed the same course of study, worked hard and his English is so good now.  

Many of the students at my school are amazing individuals.  Some of them will become thugs- like the kid who was failing my (regular/non-immigrant) class- 

I said, "Hey- what you doing? You know you have to pass English class to graduate right? What do you want to do when you finish HS?"  

His repy- "I dunno miss- prolly f*ck around and drop a body."

I have a student this year who is a first-year immigrant. She started school in the USA for the first time in August 2023.  She clearly had studied English in her country.  She is smart and motivated- and she pulls other students up with her. On her first STAAR test (TX standardized test for students) she Mastered the English 1 content.  14% of Texas students mastered their English 1 STAAR.  14% of ALL TEXAS STUDENTS mastered the content, and one of them was my super sweet first-year immigrant student from a third-world country.  💖

Happy summer to me- and all amazing and less amazing students!

That time the little guy deserved the beat-down

There are these two kids in my class- who are let's say "lively." Neither on of them does enough work to pass, they are both loud, problematic, disrespectul boogers. I make an effort to keep them seperated for the most part because they love to antagonize one another. One of them, I'll call him Rafael, is a big kid. He's nearly 6 feet tall, he works out and likes to show it. He's a big guy and he likes to try to intimidate the other students. Sometimes he just messes with them like a little kid would- He is very physical with the other kids, and mostly they don't like him. I don't think he's a bad kid- but he has too much energy and not enough strategies to deal with it. He's not interested in school or academic success at this time. The other one, I'll call him Donatello- is a little wirey kid. He looks like he might way 100 pounds and he's about as tall as my 12 year old daughter. He's loud and obnoxious, and although he is capable, refuses to do enough work to pass the class. Some of the other kids think he's funny because although he is rude and annoying they seem to think his antics are entertaining. Also, because he is small he is generally nonthreatening. Earlier this week Rafael left the room for some nefarious quest (I know this becase the associate principal called to let me know he had foiled Rafael's plans and was sending him back to my room.) While Rafael was out I saw Donatello messing with a backpack. I said, "Hey, is that your backpack?" He said, "Yes!" I didn't really believe him, but I also didn't know- so I didn't press the matter. A little later I saw Donatello pull a blue-tooth speaker out of the backpack. I knew that speaker belonged to Rafael, and I also felt confident that Rafael did not give Donatello permission to mess with it. I thought, 'This is going to cause a fight.' Then I thought, 'That kid (the little one, Donatello) deserves a beat-down.' Then I went on living my life. Later Rafael came back to the room. Things were quiet, until Rafael discovered that the speaker was missing from his backpack. The two boys started getting in each others faces, and not yelling, but making quiet threats to one another. I said, "Hey! You two! Don't fight in my room! Get out of here! Go somewhere else if you are going to fight!" They both looked at me like I was kind of crazy. Teachers are supposed to tell you to fight (somewhere else.) But I knew they were going to do it anyway, so it was no use telling them not to fight. So they backed away from each other and I went back to my work, but when I looked up again there they were back in each other's faces, quietly making threats. I said, "Hey! Back away! Sit down!" Just then the Donatello drops to the floor holding his stomach and groaning. Now this was interesting. I was looking at them, but I never saw the punch. I didn't see any movement at all until the drop. It was like a perfect shiv in the prison yard- some of the skills these kids have are frightening. So Donatello- he's a drama-wolf- that's like a boy who crys wolf and a drama queen at the same time. So he laying on the floor groaning and I'm thinking, 'Did Rafael really punch him?' So I start walking over to check it out when suddenly Donatello jumps up off the floor, picks up a chair and throws it at Rafael! It's a regular TV talk show up in here! I say, "That's it! Get out of my room! Get out right now!" Rafael just stands there looking at the chair on the floor. Donatello starts packing up his bag, but then he says, "No." I said, "What do you mean, 'No?'" I was thinking he better get out of there before Rafael took his head off. But he said, "No." and sat down. Rafael told me Donatello had his speaker in his bag. I had completely forgotten about the speaker. I knew Rafael was right. I said, "Give it to him." To my surprise Donatello takes the speaker out of his bag and throws it on the table. I felt sure he would deny having it. I told them I was calling security. They both insisted the other one started it. I told them they needed to tell their associate principles their stories. Then they told me they were fine and the fight was over. I told them it was too late for that- they had to go. Only one security officer came, so he had to escort them out one at a time. He took the big on first, and the little one said, "Ha-Ha he has to go first!" I said, "He's comeing back for you!" So- I had a few quiet days while they were both suspended- but they'll be back this week- ready to steal and punch and throw chairs and be vulger. Who's counting down the days until school is out for the summer? That's me!

Chrystal from 7th grade

There are some names, which even as an adolescent, I thought sounded flagitious. Just kidding.  I only learned that word today, and truthfully, it is not exactly the word that I want to use.  Flagitious means criminal or villainous.  It is a synonym for nefarious. I want a word that means, "Your name sounds like your mom expected you to grow up to be a pole dancer."  I found the words "unchaste" and "licentious" but those are about sexually driven behaviors. I mean- maybe a pole dancer is unchaste and licentious, but let's give them the benefit of the doubt.  (Are there male pole dancers?!)

In my search for the best word to start this blog, I found a phrase- "not cricket."  The definition is "something contrary to traditional standards of fairness or rectitude." So then I had to look up rectitude.  That means "morally correct behavior or thinking; righteousness". So- now we are getting somewhere in this story-

I begin:

Yesterday a memory about Chrystal from 7th grade came into my head.  Thinking about Chrystal made me think about Desiree, which made me think about Amber.  These are all girls I knew in 7th grade.  All girls who I thought, because of their names (only) were " not cricket."  It's terrible to judge people based on their names alone- they didn't even choose their names- but the fact was I was a pretty judge-y kid.  

I was also "not cricket" in the ways that I treated Chrystal.  Poor soul. Sorry Chrystal, wherever you are.

One day my friend and I were in the locker room talking about our mothers' ages. Who knows why? I was 12, so I said, "My mom is 39.  My friend said, "My mom is 37."  Chystal, who was not involved in the conversation chimed in and said, "Your moms are so old!"  

I said, "What? No, they're not!  Those are normal ages for moms!" (like moms have normal ages)

She said, "My mother is 28."

I said, "That's not true, do you mean your mom was 28 when you were born?"

She said, "No, she's 28 right now."

I said, "Your mom's 28, and you're 12?"

"Yeah."

"So, your mom was 16 when you were born?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

She goes on, "My grandmother is 44."

Me: "Are you sure?"

Her: "Yeah!"

Me: "You probably shouldn't tell people that."

Her: "Why not?"

Me: "Because it's a pattern."

Her: "What are you talking about?"

Me: "Your mom had you when she was 16."

Her: "Yeah."

Me: "Your grandmother had your mom when she was 15."

Her: "Yeah."

Me: "Are you going to have a baby when you are 15 too?"

Her: "Of course not.  I'm going to college."

And here's where things go off the rails.

Me: "No, you're not."

Her: "Yes, I am.  I have a plan."

Me: "They won't let you in college if you get caught fighting in school."

Her: "I never fight in school!"

Me: "You just fought with me."

Her: "No, I didn't."

I look at my friend, "Did you just see her start a fight with me?"

My friend: "Yeah."

Me: "See?"

Her: "You can't do that!  You'll get in trouble for fighting too!"

Me: "So what, I'm not going to college."

She starts crying, "I want to go to college! I can't go to college if I get in trouble for fighting!  Don't fight with me!"

I felt bad.  I say, "Crystal, I'm just kidding.  I'm not going to fight you. Anyway, you can still go to college even if you do get in trouble for fighting.  We are in 7th grade!"

She's all hysterical now, "No!  If I get a bad report on my school record I can never go to college!"

I say, "Chrystal, calm down- everything is fine- let's go.  I'm not going to fight you."

Every day after that Chrystal looked at me like a scared rabbit.  Like I was the ruination of the dreams of generations.  

If she was annoying me I'd hold up my fist and she'd leave.

I bet she was super happy when I moved away at the end of 7th grade.

Lost in the chaos

I can't find the paddle that kneads the bread in my bread machine.  I felt compelled to let someone know this was my dilemma. Inshallah that is my only problem right?

It is not my only problem.  The big picture is that there are a lot of things in my house that I need to get rid of.  The detail in that picture is that everyone in my family is a saver.  We want to save everything- 

"I can use this!"

"I can make something out of that!" 

"Can I have that?" 

"Why?!"

"I like it."

"Why did you bring that home?"

"It was free."

"I found it".

"It's still good!"

"What's it good for?"

"I don't know.  Yet!"

"PUT THAT BACK IN THE TRASH!!"

It's my own fault.  I say, "Hey, look at the cool rock!"  They say, "I want it!"  Now I have approximately 537 rocks in my house.

Perhaps my bread machine kneading paddle is in with the rocks.

My third grade teacher was right

 When I was in third grade my favorite teacher, Mrs. Richmond, told us that even though we had to learn the imperial measuring system, we also had to learn the metric system.  She was sure that by the time we grew up the whole USA would use the metric system exclusively.  

Here's me now-

I got a call from the doctor after the ultrasound.  The doctor said, "The ultrasound shows that you have a large ovarian cyst on the left measuring 13 centimeters and several small ones on the right measuring 3-5 centimeters each.  We have scheduled you for an MRI."  Then she said the thing that no woman wants to hear- "And someone ate all the tacos."  

No- that's not what she said.  She said, "I've recommended you to a gynecological oncologist."

So I said, "Okay."

And that was the end of the conversation.

Next, I had to think about how big 13 centimeters is.  Mrs. Richmond would be disappointed.  I pulled out my ruler.  I looked at the metric side and measured to 13.  I looked at it and thought- 'Is this big for an ovarian cyst?  seems pretty small to me.'  Then I realized that I had measured 13mm, not 13cm.

Then I measured 13cm and found it was about 5 inches.  I still don't know what that means.  13cm long?  13cm diameter?  I don't know.  

I got the MRI- that was an event I'd rather not experience.

I had made an appointment with my gynecologist a month before when I had experienced the pain the last time.  (It took that long to get in.)  So I told her all my issues and showed her all my test results, and she told me what she thought it was and suggested that I "get rid of everything."  She said, "you're almost 50, you don't need it!"  

That sounded good to me.  

When I went to talk to my surgeon, he said, "So- if we are going by the book I'd leave an ovary in if it isn't damaged."

I said, "Why?"

He said, "For hormones. Research suggests that women who start menopause surgically are at higher risks for several illnesses."

I said, "But I'm 50."  When does menopause start for most women?

He said, "Between 52-54."  

I said, "My gynecologist recommended that you take it all, and I'm okay with that."

He said, "Who is your gynecologist?"

I said, "Dr. Udell."

He said, "Kim Udell?"

I said, "Yeah."

He said, "She would say that." 

He said, "You can decide, but going by the book, I'd leave one."

I said, "Okay- take it all."

In the end, the surgeon decided that although he was  "pretty sure" that the cysts were not cancer, he didn't want to rupture them just in case.  Since the cyst was so large he said he couldn't do the surgery laparoscopically, nor could he do it vaginally.  He also said he would normally do the surgery in the same manner as a C-section, but since I have had 4 C-sections already, he thought there was too much scar tissue.  

So ... I have 9-10 inch scar from my belly button all the way down to my C-section scar.

The doctor said the recovery would be similar to a C-section.  

I disagree.

It was terrible.

It still hurts more than 6 weeks later.

But- I'm mostly healed and optimistic for the new year- just a few organs lighter.