Summer Vacation: It's Everywhere I Want To Be

Unleaded gasoline for a week-long jaunt to Utah: $15.63

One box of Strawberry Delight Frosted Mini Wheats to feed a pink-o-holic niece: $2:75.

Paperback copy of Stephen E. Ambrose's Band of Brothers: $17.00.
(Squishy, snoozing nephew: free gift with one week stay at Hotel Jenny)

Fancy-scmancy cupcakes from "The Sweet Tooth Fairy" bakery: $3 per cupcake (and worth every-blessed cent! Yum!!!)

Rocks, chocolate and polished, for end of the school year rock ceremonies for a graduated kindergartner and first grader: $3.00.

Six snowcones to celebrate the end of the school year: $6.47.

Spending the first week of summer vacation surrounded by niblets: priceless.

Mission Completed

My classroom is ready for hibernation. All visual reminders of the final, painful yearbook deadline have been long-since patched by the diligent maintenance staff. The air smells of equal parts stress, fear, desperation, and deodorant-adverse 8th graders.
My desk is full of fun gifts and beautiful notes from my yearbook jedi, including a green light saber for yearbook master Yoda. The force is strong with the kidlets, it is. Grateful to them, I am.
There is evidence of a last-day-of-school-breakfast-buffet in my to classroom...

...and the back corner of my room is stacked to ceiling with empty shipping boxes, and every flat surface is covered with purchase and delivery lists.

What does it all mean?

THE YEARBOOKS ARE HERE!!!!
ALL 356 OF THEM!!!
They have been counted, sorted, bagged, delivered, handed-out, signed, and taken home.

My first year as a yearbook advisor is over, and now all of the memories of late deadlines, misspelled names, missing photos, and uncooperative index pages have been replaced with thoughts about this beautiful cover...

...and these fabulous end sheets. I LOVE these end sheets. Really. I'm seriously considering proposing.

Not to mention the beautiful pages that my adorable, pro-deodorant yearbook jedi assembled over the now kaput school year.

Once I had finished signing the last book of the last student to walk out the doors and into summer vacation, I sat down filled through the pages of my kidlets' masterpiece. See the background on this 7th grade boys basketball layout? That is a photo of our gym floor. Have I mentioned that they are geniuses? Because they are.

Who would have thought that the same kids who volunteered to come to school on Saturdays and then risked life and limb riding roller-chairs down the giant ramp...

...were the same kids who planned, designed, and published this?!?!

On that last afternoon, I was determined to sit back and reflect on my very first group of yearbook jedi. Thankfully, as Yearbook Jedi Master Yoda, I didn't have to send my newly trained jedi off to battle any Sith Lords. But they did have to face down a few cranky teachers who weren't aware that the yearbook staffers were the only kids allowed in the hallways before 8:15 on the last day of school. Hummm...Sith Lords, cranky jr. high teachers....Now that I think about it, the yearbook jedi might have preferred going up against the Sith Lords.

But the force is strong with them and they survived virtually unscathed. I was determined to bask in the glow of a completed yearbook and all of the compliments my little staff received from teachers, students, and parents alike. Life was good.

And then I checked my box in the staff mail room and found this... the starter kit for the 201o yearbook. Seriously, Lifetouch couldn't have let me have one afternoon of basking before smacking me in the face with the reality of "Yearbook Wars, Episode Two: The Uncooperative Index Menace"?

Oh well. Summer vacation starts today, so I will think about THAT tomorrow.

Ooops. I mean, Tomorrow think about that, will I.

Yoda out.

It's nap time.

Wild Kingdom: The field trip files

Today on Animal Planet, we explore the natural wonder of the honors kidlet’s DQ migration.


Join us as we follow a herd of honors kidlets as they travel across streets and fields, through neighborhoods and parking lots, led by an inborn desire to eat ice cream and French fries, today on Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.

The migration of the honors kidlets is a seasonal occurrence. While there is no set date for the exodus to begin, scientific observers have recorded various signs that mean the kidlets are preparing to begin their journey. The most obvious of these signs is the change that occurs in the habitat of the leader of the kidlet’s herd, more commonly known as the “teacher”. The piles of permission slips, along lingering reminders of the “teacher’s” mortality, show that the "teacher" is noticing the students agitated state that signals their need to be herded towards the Dairy Queen.


This biological phenomenon is actually an adaptation that the honors kidlet s have made in response to changes to Idaho’s educational climate. Historically, the honors kidlets have followed a migration pattern from their home territory to the wilds of Twin Falls where their natural instincts led them on a path through movie theaters, restaurants, and museums. That path has changed significantly over the past two years, as global economic cooling as has made state legislators increasingly hostile toward all things education-related.

But despite this sad, politically motivated scaling back of their migration territory, the wild and woolly kidlets still find joy in their short walk in the sunshine, far away from the cave they were confined to during the previous months. Notice how, motivated by a common goal, one kidlet assists another who has become to exhausted to continue on. The sense of community increased significantly among a herd of kidlets during DQ migration time.

Of course, as with all wild creatures, that sense of community is drowned out by their overwhelming natural instinct to be first in line one their destination is in sight. It is not uncommon for kidlets who normal exhibit a very strong bond to turn against each other when blizzards are at stake.

One aspect of the kidlet's migratory experience that still baffles zoologists is the dietary choices made by the kidlets once they claw their way to the front of the line. One of the purposes of traveling over a mile to the DQ is to graze on foods that are not available to them back in their home habitat. The food provided at the home habitat on migration day was chicken strips and French fries. And what did the vast majority of the herd order after walking for 20 minutes? Chicken strips and French fries. Unfortunately, even with further research, this phenomenon might never be explained.

The half-way point of the migratory experience is signaled by the "teacher" counting the herd of grazing kidlets to ensure that none of them have wandered away...

...followed by the "teacher" taking a few moments to remember why she agrees to do this every year. Behavioral Zoologists think that the "teacher's" inability to remember and learn from past migratory experiences by avoiding future migratory experiences might be explained by the emotional beating they receive from the tribal leaders in Boise each year, but those studies are also ongoing.

Once the kidelts have finished grazing and the "teacher" has regained her will to live, the return journey begins. While the initial one mile walk to DQ is fueled by hunger and motivated by a desire for unhealthy , yet delicious food, the return journey is fueled by sugar and motivated by a desire to return to the kidlet's most natural state...

...being plugged into a video game. While the kidlets find the video game experience to be pleasant in any situation, playing things like Guitar Hero in a location where educational and not fun usually reigns supreme appears to give the kidlets an extra surge of happiness-inducing chemicals into their already sugar-saturated systems.

The end of the migration is usually signaled by the physical and emotional collapse of the "teacher" once the kidlets have moved on to their 4B classes. Occasional muttered outbursts of, "Stay together! Why won't you stay together?" and "There is no extra credit for snorting two spoonfuls of blizzard up your nose," may still be heard by any observers brave enough to approach the "teacher" after the migration. Thank your for joining us as we followed the wild south Idaho kidlet on its annual DQ migration. For more information about this wildlife phenomenon, click Here To donate to the "Save the Teachers Fund" send a lot of chocolate to my school. It may not be tax deductable but it is a much more worthy cause than saving a lot of other furry or feathery things. I promise.

Changes

It has been one C.E.S. broadcast, two family home evenings, one temple trip, and a branch conference since our new branch presidency was sustained, and I am happy to report that the Parke Avenue Branch is still the truest branch in the Church.


Things have been a little different since we lost our beloved Joneses, Barkers, and Hobsons but all of our transitional activities have still been unmitigated successes. Of course, we P.A.B.-er's have kind of a skewed definition of "success". Case in point: We deemed our first rafting activity under the original presidency a "success" despite being ticketed by the police, fined by a sadistic park ranger, and having a good portion of our group almost drowned and/or crushed to death in a raging river of terror. Hummm....now that I think about it, pretty much any activity was declared a success if it didn't end with someone getting a rabies shot because they were bit by a member of the Elder's Quorum. Ahhh...the memories. Good times. Good times.


Our first FHE with our new leaders was a definite success (the Elder's Quorum Presidency may have been a bit slobbery and might have gnawed on some of the furniture but there was no actual "biting" involved at all!) . That success could have been attributed to many different factors, like the Barlows inviting us all into their home (which they did), or the way they talked with us to help us feel their love for us (which we did). But even though those kinds of things did help a lot, the success of the evening should probably be attributed to the Barlows', Morleys', and Filmores' understanding of a basic rule of YSA behavior: If you feed us, we will come. They did, and we did. And that dinner was the start of a beautiful friendship.
With a healthy relationship of trust built on a solid foundation of roast beef and ice cream, this week's FHE was dedicated to getting to know each other a little better. The idea behind playing the "Two Truth's and a Lie" game was to help the new leaders understand who we are and what makes us tick. So what did our new branch presidency and their wives learn about the members of the Parke Avenue Branch? We like to speed and have the tickets to prove it, we enjoying international as well as local skinny dipping, and we are so bad at lying that we have to scribble our fictional "facts" on the backs of our hands to remember them.

We also learned quite a bit about our new leaders, including their driving records, medical histories, hidden talents, and blood types. We discovered that they are all fun-loving, high-spirited folks who are excited to spend every waking moment of the next few years attending firesides with us, driving us to the temple, and giving the Elder's Quorum something to chew on whenever they start to get jumpy.

We also learned that our new leaders are not afraid to plow through a crowd at full speed or knock an unsuspecting YSA off a desk while playing "Who's You Neighbor". Flashes of violence during group games? They are going to fit in just fine!

Of course, I didn't need to know that our new leaders were willing to inflict minor bodily harm to avoid being"it" (although that did take them up more than a few notches on my scale of respect) .

No, I pledged my undying love and devotion to them days earlier.

Why?

Well, I went to the temple with them last Thursday and, on the way home, President Barlow bought me a grape slushie. And now I shall love him forever and sustain him with my whole heart, might, mind, and strength.

You can laugh now about how cheap my affection can be bought, but we will see who has the last laugh when Sonic Grape Slushies bring peace to the Middle East and get President Obama and Rush Limbaugh to hold hands and wear "Best Friends Forever" tie tacks. Grape Slushies will heal the world... and they also help numb the pain from "Who's Your Neighbor" induced bruising. Just in case you were wondering.

He Returned With Honor

Two years ago my little brother Mikey posed with our Dad for this picture before leaving for Brazil to serve as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Today, I left my kidlets in the capable hands of a substitute teacher so that I could be at the airport to welcome him home. Mikey is the third brother I have had the privilege to greet as he returned to his homeland and awkwardly began his post-mission life. I love the feeling of excitement you get when you get that first glimpse of the worn-out suit and the exhausted missionary inside it.

"There he is!"

"Look at his tan!"

"Did he actually get taller?"
"He is so dang skinny!"

"Dude, seriously...doesn't he look taller?"

"Woowhooo!!!"

"Welcome home!"

"Dude...You are taller!"

"Yep. Definitely taller. And smellier. How many days have you been traveling without a shower?"

"Are you hungry? When did you eat?"

"Did you sleep at all on the plane? You look tired. And taller. Did I mention that you are taller than you were when you left? Because I am pretty sure you are taller than you were two years ago."

Mikey is quite possibly the biggest BYU fan on the face of the earth. And because I am his sister and I love him very, very much, I decided to give him a welcome home that he would never forget...A blood-red Uof U themed welcome home.

When our sweet sister-in-law Becky asked Mikey what he thought about my decorating job, the not-yet-released-missionary replied...

"I didn't say anything. Many words came to mind in several different languages, but none that I can say while wearing this tag."

He sounds like a returned missionary already, eh?

Welcome home Mikey!!!!

Feel free to take the rest of the weekend off before focusing on finding a job, earning a degree, finding a girlfriend, convincing the girlfriend to marry you, getting a better job, buying a house, having a kid or two.....

Happy Thoughts

It has been a very emotional week. The tear-filled climax of that week happened a few hours ago when our wonderful branch presidency was released. There was a beautiful spirit at the meeting as we thanked our original presidency and their wives, and sustained what we are sure will be an awesome new presidency. After the meeting, I received this sweet gift from Bonnie and it reminded me that there are still a lot of things that I should be happy about.
For Example:
I had a ton of fun reading the disgusting and disturbing Ashpuuttle, the Grimm Bothers version of Cinderella, with my kidlets this week. I got to hear them squeak and squeal when the step sisters cut off their toes and gouged chunks out of their heels before the birds came and pecked out their eyes. I also really enjoyed watching the kidlets try to dig lentils out of ashes just like poor Ashputtle. And I loved the looks on their faces when I told them that, since I didn't have a fireplace from which to procure ashes, I had to use the remains of my dearly departed and expensively cremated dog Tater Tot to hid the lentils in.

I am thankful for Tricia's willingness to cut my hair on short notice, and for the confusion that resulted when the 7th graders saw that hair cut.

I'm very, very grateful that two of my nieces got to come visit this week, to sit on my floor and pull all of my possessions off of my shelves.

I should probably also mention that I am still grateful (a week later) that I didn't die while visiting Shoshone Falls.

I'm really happy that my newest nephew isn't old enough to realize that I missed his blessing today so that I could be here to say goodbye to my Burley family. On a related note, I am also very glad that Milo is so squishy. I will cry a little when he actually grows bones. Sigh.

I am grateful that I don't have the swine flu.

And that I haven't been hijacked by Somali Pirates while driving to and from Twin Falls.
One of my biggest happy thoughts for the week has been that my brilliant, genius kidlets defeated the evil Idaho Standards Achievement Tests.

And I am thankful that my kidlets are finishing their ECA study guides this week. That means that the big, mean, slobbery, hairy, fanged ECA can stop lurking overhead...
...and go back in my transparency folder where he belongs.

And no matter where I go in this world or what I accomplish in life, I my time with the Joneses, Barkers, and Hobsons will always be at the top of my blessing list.

Branch Talent Show from Mindy Haws on Vimeo.