About 7 weeks ago, Zane told me he wanted to stay home with the kids. About 6 1/2 weeks ago, I got a job that happened to be open in January, starting immediately. Divine plan, or stars aligning? Is there a difference?
So I have been working at a new charter school, Legacy Preparatory Academy, since January 14. It's a very different experience that SLArts, I must say! The school is K-12, with 6-12 in my building. The high school is small, and I have all the 10th graders in two classes, one of 16 and one of 26. I also have a 12-person 6th grade class, and a couple of correcting reading and writing classes. The corrective classes are more of a challenge, and I don't always know what I'm doing. I love the kids (in general), though, so it's all good.
I guess the teacher that(ahem) had the job before me didn't make the kids work much, though. I have a whole crapload of 10th graders failing, all because they go, "Homework? What's that?" Well, your teacher doesn't have time to let you write a whole essay in school, so....That part is very frustrating.
Zane is home with the kids now. He is not quite as good as a wife (especially because he takes the kids to daycare on Wednesdays and works at the office), but he does keep the dishes done, made taco soup the other day, and has Sabrina practice soccer and do her letters. And he only forgot preschool completely once.
I have, overall, been very happy back at work, and Zane is much, much happier being mostly at home. It's nice to have the flexibility to mix up the gender roles a bit!
Monday, February 18, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
Grandma
It's been a long, busy month since I've posted. But right now, instead of catching up my new job, I need to write a tribute to my grandma. My last surviving grandparent, Grandma Buys died on February 10th.
Grandma was an artist. As a child I never appreciated it fully, partly because, well, I was a child, but also because her art not flashy. It was knitting Christmas stockings for every grandchild and great-grandchild. She made porcelain dolls that were truly of heirloom quality. All her kids had handmade nativity scenes.
Grandma always remembered birthdays. Until I was 12, she always gave me clothes, impeccably wrapped with the boxes taped closed. This was annoying. When I turned 12 I started to really look forward to getting clothes -- and she switched to money. She sent me money for my birthday well into my 30s. She always sent a card that I could tell she took time to pick out, with a message that began "Granddaughter."
Grandma and I shared a birth month -- October. She loved opals, and therefore so did I. As The Oldest Granddaughter Born In October, I was lucky enough to inherit her mother's opal engagement ring. The gold was thin from years of being worn, but Grandma got the stones reset. The jeweler apparently explained that opals are very fragile. Grandma said, "You'd better be careful, then!" He was, and the ring is perfect.
When I was young, Dad was a teacher so we had lovely long summers together. We'd often go to Grandma's house for the day or to sleep over. I still love to go to the dentist because, when I was young, our dentist was in Tooele, and we'd make a big production out of going to sleep over at Grandma's, go to the dentist, and go to the Fourth of July parade. For all I know we only did this once, but it obviously made a big impression. When we slept over, I always had Fruit Loops (yum!) and grapefruit juice for breakfast. I had this combo once as an adult. Once. But it was very nostalgic.
Although Tooele got farther away the more children I had, I always loved to go to Grandma's annual Memorial Day picnic. No matter who she was married to, the whole Buys clan came over for puffed rice balls, lemonade mixed with grape juice, fried chicken (later years it became wings), and a visit to the cemetery and Grandpa's grave.
Grandma had a huge park behind her hedges. At least, that's what it seemed like to us grandkids. I was disappointed in recent years to realize it was a tiny water conservation lot. She also had a great basement with a secret passage between a bedroom and the playroom. To say nothing of the paneled walls that figured heavily in the play that Michael, David, Benn, and Lindsay and I created. My childhood, that's what my grandma's house looks like.
I love you Grandma!
1924 ~ 2013
Geneve R. Buys Gubler, 88, passed away peacefully with family by her side on Feb. 10, 2013 in Salt Lake City, Utah.
She was born to George Thomas and Margaret Catherine Rasband on October 3, 1924 in Heber City, Utah. She married Roland Lindsay Buys on August 18, 1945 in Salt Lake City, Utah. Solemnized in the Salt Lake City Temple on August 18, 1953. He passed away on December 10, 1977. In July 1989 she married married Earl G. Bain, who passed away in February, 2000. She later married Dr. Kelly H. Gubler on March 31, 2001.
She was active member of the LDS church and served in many callings. She was a leader for many decades with the 4-H program, the Civic Club, and the Daughters of Utah Pioneers. She enjoyed sewing, knitting, ceramics, and making porcelain dolls. Her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren will enjoy the Christmas stockings, dolls, and nativities made by her loving hands.
She was preceded in death by her parents, five brothers, two sisters, her loving husbands, and son James C. Buys. She is survived by her children Marlene (Jerry) Pulsipher, Joseph L. (Dr. Saundra) Buys, D'Anne (Ed) Tonn, Ronda (Dr. Bruce) Lee, and daughter-law Carole (James C.) Buys. She is loved and respected by her children and her 20 grandchildren and 40 great-grandchildren.
Friends may call from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. on Friday, Feb. 15, at Tate Mortuary, 110 S. Main St., Tooele, Utah or from 10:00 to 10:45 a.m. on Saturday, Feb. 16, at the 14th Ward LDS Chapel on the corner of 200 West & 200 South in Tooele. Funeral services will follow at 11:00. Interment will be at the Tooele City Cemetery.
Grandma was an artist. As a child I never appreciated it fully, partly because, well, I was a child, but also because her art not flashy. It was knitting Christmas stockings for every grandchild and great-grandchild. She made porcelain dolls that were truly of heirloom quality. All her kids had handmade nativity scenes.
Grandma always remembered birthdays. Until I was 12, she always gave me clothes, impeccably wrapped with the boxes taped closed. This was annoying. When I turned 12 I started to really look forward to getting clothes -- and she switched to money. She sent me money for my birthday well into my 30s. She always sent a card that I could tell she took time to pick out, with a message that began "Granddaughter."
Grandma and I shared a birth month -- October. She loved opals, and therefore so did I. As The Oldest Granddaughter Born In October, I was lucky enough to inherit her mother's opal engagement ring. The gold was thin from years of being worn, but Grandma got the stones reset. The jeweler apparently explained that opals are very fragile. Grandma said, "You'd better be careful, then!" He was, and the ring is perfect.
When I was young, Dad was a teacher so we had lovely long summers together. We'd often go to Grandma's house for the day or to sleep over. I still love to go to the dentist because, when I was young, our dentist was in Tooele, and we'd make a big production out of going to sleep over at Grandma's, go to the dentist, and go to the Fourth of July parade. For all I know we only did this once, but it obviously made a big impression. When we slept over, I always had Fruit Loops (yum!) and grapefruit juice for breakfast. I had this combo once as an adult. Once. But it was very nostalgic.
Although Tooele got farther away the more children I had, I always loved to go to Grandma's annual Memorial Day picnic. No matter who she was married to, the whole Buys clan came over for puffed rice balls, lemonade mixed with grape juice, fried chicken (later years it became wings), and a visit to the cemetery and Grandpa's grave.
Grandma had a huge park behind her hedges. At least, that's what it seemed like to us grandkids. I was disappointed in recent years to realize it was a tiny water conservation lot. She also had a great basement with a secret passage between a bedroom and the playroom. To say nothing of the paneled walls that figured heavily in the play that Michael, David, Benn, and Lindsay and I created. My childhood, that's what my grandma's house looks like.
I love you Grandma!
1924 ~ 2013
Geneve R. Buys Gubler, 88, passed away peacefully with family by her side on Feb. 10, 2013 in Salt Lake City, Utah.
She was born to George Thomas and Margaret Catherine Rasband on October 3, 1924 in Heber City, Utah. She married Roland Lindsay Buys on August 18, 1945 in Salt Lake City, Utah. Solemnized in the Salt Lake City Temple on August 18, 1953. He passed away on December 10, 1977. In July 1989 she married married Earl G. Bain, who passed away in February, 2000. She later married Dr. Kelly H. Gubler on March 31, 2001.
She was active member of the LDS church and served in many callings. She was a leader for many decades with the 4-H program, the Civic Club, and the Daughters of Utah Pioneers. She enjoyed sewing, knitting, ceramics, and making porcelain dolls. Her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren will enjoy the Christmas stockings, dolls, and nativities made by her loving hands.
She was preceded in death by her parents, five brothers, two sisters, her loving husbands, and son James C. Buys. She is survived by her children Marlene (Jerry) Pulsipher, Joseph L. (Dr. Saundra) Buys, D'Anne (Ed) Tonn, Ronda (Dr. Bruce) Lee, and daughter-law Carole (James C.) Buys. She is loved and respected by her children and her 20 grandchildren and 40 great-grandchildren.
Friends may call from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. on Friday, Feb. 15, at Tate Mortuary, 110 S. Main St., Tooele, Utah or from 10:00 to 10:45 a.m. on Saturday, Feb. 16, at the 14th Ward LDS Chapel on the corner of 200 West & 200 South in Tooele. Funeral services will follow at 11:00. Interment will be at the Tooele City Cemetery.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Snowmaggedon
I got a job (more on this later -- the person I'm replacing hasn't been fired yet and I haven't signed a contract, so when I start the job, it will receive its own special attention). I was supposed to go do all the new-teacher stuff on Friday. I was a little worried, because the snow started up here on Thursday around 4 and wasn't supposed to stop until Saturday. Well, I thought, I'm sure I'll be fine. At the same time, I was praying to make the right decisions and not, you know, die.
Fortunately for me and everyone else, the school was closed that day. So I sat at home and looked out the window as the snow fell ALL FREAKING DAY LONG. I'm not convinced that we got as much as at my parents' house, which apparently got approximately twenty-seven feet. But when snow is falling all over the Wasatch Front and you live on a sparsely-populated street in a rural community, well, you get plowed twice in 24 hours. Maybe. That is not enough to keep up with the snowfall. Not, I am quick to add, that it is the fault of those paragons of virtue, the snowplowdrivers. No, they just had a lot to do.
Zane took Sabrina skiing yesterday near the end of the storm. He said she did great on the groomed areas, but the powder, in some places, was up to her waist. She may have whined, just a little.
It was nice to see the snowplow last night and the sun this morning. Although I do feel a strange yearning to read The Long Winter in the comfort of my warm, well-lit, well-stocked house with no animals to take care of. The best way to celebrate Snowmaggedon.
Fortunately for me and everyone else, the school was closed that day. So I sat at home and looked out the window as the snow fell ALL FREAKING DAY LONG. I'm not convinced that we got as much as at my parents' house, which apparently got approximately twenty-seven feet. But when snow is falling all over the Wasatch Front and you live on a sparsely-populated street in a rural community, well, you get plowed twice in 24 hours. Maybe. That is not enough to keep up with the snowfall. Not, I am quick to add, that it is the fault of those paragons of virtue, the snowplowdrivers. No, they just had a lot to do.
Zane took Sabrina skiing yesterday near the end of the storm. He said she did great on the groomed areas, but the powder, in some places, was up to her waist. She may have whined, just a little.
It was nice to see the snowplow last night and the sun this morning. Although I do feel a strange yearning to read The Long Winter in the comfort of my warm, well-lit, well-stocked house with no animals to take care of. The best way to celebrate Snowmaggedon.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Yay! I'm a bad mom!
Raiden had his supplemental because-he's-tiny doctor's appointment today. Guess what? After two weeks of frantically shoving a bottle in his mouth every time he opened it, as well as giving him magical Seven Star Tea, a magical Chinese formula designed to magically fix WHATEVER is wrong with your child, Raiden has gained 1.2 pounds. In fourteen days! (I'll pause here for your awed silence.)
So, it turns out that there is (probably) nothing wrong with Raiden. I was just starving him. Great news! His doctor was actually really nice about how I wasn't actually a bad mom and I shouldn't think of it that way, but we all know the truth. Still trying to figure out how to blame someone else, but now that he's back on the weight chart, the need to do so is fading.
Now I guess I'll stop crying on my keyboard. Or at least take a hiatus until his 9 month appointment, where I may well find another something to panic about. Stay tuned!
So, it turns out that there is (probably) nothing wrong with Raiden. I was just starving him. Great news! His doctor was actually really nice about how I wasn't actually a bad mom and I shouldn't think of it that way, but we all know the truth. Still trying to figure out how to blame someone else, but now that he's back on the weight chart, the need to do so is fading.
Now I guess I'll stop crying on my keyboard. Or at least take a hiatus until his 9 month appointment, where I may well find another something to panic about. Stay tuned!
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Beautiful Boots
For the past six months, Sabrina and Sasha have been in contention over a pair of cowboy boots. They are Sabrina's (once they were Jane's), but Sasha lurves them. Sabrina was usually good about letting him wear them, but when she wanted to wear them, well, they were hers, after all. So, like all good mothers, I solved the problem by asking my parents to get each kid a pair of cowboy boots for Christmas.
My first problem was that I don't know the sizes of my kids' feet. I know my size -- they've been 7 1/2 for, I don't know, two decades. But kids? Their feet just keep a-growin'. Because I didn't want to get boots too small, I said sizes 8 and 10. I think this is probably at least a size too big.
My mother, being the wise woman that she is, didn't want Sabrina's boots to be too small, so she suggested that my dad, who was tasked with this important job, to get size 11 for Sabrina.
Dad got the boots. Sabrina's were pink, which gave her flights of ecstasy. Sasha's were dual-color, super cool. They only had size 8.5. Well, the BOX said 8.5. Inside the box, there was one boot that was an 8.5 and one that was a 10. And they were both left boots. Oops.
So Dad got to make another trip to the boot store. Thanks Dad! He took Sabrina's boots as well, to get a smaller size. Oh, her face when she found out the boots were going to be taken away! Only quick assurances that she would get other boots that would fit her better and would STILL BE PINK averted tears. Sasha was more okay with his boots being taken, partly because he never actually got both boots on his feet. However, he got his new boots yesterday and has worn them all day long both days, including for both naps.
Here he is in his new cowboy boots. Notice how he wants his pants rolled up so they don't cover any of the glory that is the boots.
Can you say "I look beautiful!"?
My first problem was that I don't know the sizes of my kids' feet. I know my size -- they've been 7 1/2 for, I don't know, two decades. But kids? Their feet just keep a-growin'. Because I didn't want to get boots too small, I said sizes 8 and 10. I think this is probably at least a size too big.
My mother, being the wise woman that she is, didn't want Sabrina's boots to be too small, so she suggested that my dad, who was tasked with this important job, to get size 11 for Sabrina.
Dad got the boots. Sabrina's were pink, which gave her flights of ecstasy. Sasha's were dual-color, super cool. They only had size 8.5. Well, the BOX said 8.5. Inside the box, there was one boot that was an 8.5 and one that was a 10. And they were both left boots. Oops.
So Dad got to make another trip to the boot store. Thanks Dad! He took Sabrina's boots as well, to get a smaller size. Oh, her face when she found out the boots were going to be taken away! Only quick assurances that she would get other boots that would fit her better and would STILL BE PINK averted tears. Sasha was more okay with his boots being taken, partly because he never actually got both boots on his feet. However, he got his new boots yesterday and has worn them all day long both days, including for both naps.
Here he is in his new cowboy boots. Notice how he wants his pants rolled up so they don't cover any of the glory that is the boots.
Can you say "I look beautiful!"?
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Little soccer star
Who wants to see the cutest little soccer player in the world? You? Okay, here she is:
So? Cute! I swear, the hair is not my fault. It is fine and wavy, so it will not be contained. Will. Not. But check out those eyes! And smile! Who wants to see another one?
So. That's my girl. To make it even better, she's also beautiful on the INSIDE.
So? Cute! I swear, the hair is not my fault. It is fine and wavy, so it will not be contained. Will. Not. But check out those eyes! And smile! Who wants to see another one?
So. That's my girl. To make it even better, she's also beautiful on the INSIDE.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
A New Definition of Tiny
Long ago, we used to call Sabrina "Tiny." To the point that my cousin Boyd sort of forgot her real name. ("Sabrina? Who's that?" "Tiny." "Oh yeah.") Now I know what tiny really is. Okay, Sabrina was tiny, yes. But...
I took Raiden to his 6-month appointment (on his 7 month birthday. Don't judge me for this. You'll have a chance for judging later on). He has dropped to the 2nd percentile for height and 0.91st for weight. Right, under the 1st percentile. If he'd always been that way, that would be one thing, but he's plateaued in his growth. Three scary words: Failure To Thrive.
It's hard to even write.
Here's the deal. Raiden is cognitively and physically (other than in size, obviously) meeting and exceeding developmental milestones. Crawling by 6 months, tooth at 6 months, currently understanding some words, smiling, happy, sleeping through the night for a while at 2 months, all sorts of wonderful normal-baby things. Why is he tiny?
There are two options. I'm a bad mom and have not given him enough food, or there's something wrong with him. Lose/lose. It's pretty sad when you're hoping you're a bad mom, because that's less scary than the other option. The doctor wants to see him back two weeks from his appointment to check his growth, and has instructed me to stuff him like a Thanksgiving turkey (my words, not his, in his defense). So that's what I've been doing. And offering a lot of prayers that go, "Please, Father, let my baby get fat." I'd be grateful if you'd join me in this particular prayer. That and, "Please let me look back on this time and laugh at how much I overreacted." That's another prayer that seems to fit.
I'm now going to wipe the tears off my keyboard and pray that last prayer again.
I took Raiden to his 6-month appointment (on his 7 month birthday. Don't judge me for this. You'll have a chance for judging later on). He has dropped to the 2nd percentile for height and 0.91st for weight. Right, under the 1st percentile. If he'd always been that way, that would be one thing, but he's plateaued in his growth. Three scary words: Failure To Thrive.
It's hard to even write.
Here's the deal. Raiden is cognitively and physically (other than in size, obviously) meeting and exceeding developmental milestones. Crawling by 6 months, tooth at 6 months, currently understanding some words, smiling, happy, sleeping through the night for a while at 2 months, all sorts of wonderful normal-baby things. Why is he tiny?
There are two options. I'm a bad mom and have not given him enough food, or there's something wrong with him. Lose/lose. It's pretty sad when you're hoping you're a bad mom, because that's less scary than the other option. The doctor wants to see him back two weeks from his appointment to check his growth, and has instructed me to stuff him like a Thanksgiving turkey (my words, not his, in his defense). So that's what I've been doing. And offering a lot of prayers that go, "Please, Father, let my baby get fat." I'd be grateful if you'd join me in this particular prayer. That and, "Please let me look back on this time and laugh at how much I overreacted." That's another prayer that seems to fit.
I'm now going to wipe the tears off my keyboard and pray that last prayer again.
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