End of school recap.

I feel like I should wear a t-shirt proclaiming, "I survived the month of May!"  Here's a quick recap of a few end of school happenings.  I joined the fourth-graders on a field trip to the Idaho State Supreme Court and the Capitol Building.  Here's the lovely Anna in the Governor's office.

I also tagged along on Rachel's field trip to the Botanical Gardens.  A tour of gorgeous plants with 18 adorable kindergarteners?  Why, yes, I think I will.

For Lily's last couple of weeks, she got to dress up in 19th century pioneer garb, pretend to be a girl named Molly attending a one-room schoolhouse, and write on a slate the entire time.  She thought it was awesome and it just might have been the most successful two weeks of the entire school year for her.  Hmm.  Education reform, anyone?

Bring on summer!

And more graduations.

Once we had Joy School graduation under our belts, it was time for Kindergarten Graduation.  Doesn't the little grad look happy?

There.  That's more like it.

 

 

A few days later and we were onto high school graduation.  Two of them.  Of the eleven girls I taught at church this year, eight graduated from high school in May.  Can you say expensive?  I put a new twist on cash gifts by attaching bills to little bars of 100Grand and stuffing them in a jar labeled with their name and a donation fund I thought they would appreciate.  For instance, one label read: The (insert name) Greek Yogurt Fund, because this particular girl has to ration herself down to a one a day habit of greek yogurt in order to not break the bank.  Of course, it wasn't an entirely original idea but hey, that's what pinterest is for, right?

 

I will miss these girls - they are stellar young women!  Can't wait to see the places they will go and the good they will do.

Bouquets of love.

I don't think anything screams "motherhood" like a bouquet of weeds picked by your eldest daughter, who then requests that you put them in a vase.  I complied.

Sacrifice brings blessings.

The church I belong to has a lay clergy.  The members who make up a congregation serve in various capacities as leaders, teachers, etc.  We do it on our own time.  Many churches have unpaid opportunities to volunteer their time and means.  This is not unique to our church (although the fact that each bishop, the leader of a congregation is unpaid, is, perhaps, more unusual).  Each family is also invited to clean our church building twice a year.  Each member(at least in our area) above a certain age is assigned to work in the local cannery, which cans food for those in need locally and abroad.  Add to that the multitude of needs that crop up in our ward or community for which we volunteer our time and means and it makes for a service-oriented life, to say the least.  Most members are given a calling, a position in the church that contributes to the functioning of our congregation as a whole.  These are not positions we choose or volunteer for, per se, in fact, we are invited to serve in very specific callings for an undetermined period of time by the leaders of our congregation (usually a bishop).   It is a way of demonstrating our commitment to the covenants we have made to serve the Lord and keep His commandments.

Sometimes callings are uncomfortable.  Two years ago, I was asked to serve as the accompanist for our ward choir.  Having only taken two years of piano lessons in my entire life did not qualify me to accompany a choir, in my opinion.  I was terrified.  But I said yes, knowing that "whom the Lord calls, he qualifies."  And boy howdy, did He ever.

Sure, I sat through many a choir practice, kicking myself for botching up the tenor line as we practiced parts, or for plunking out errant notes in the accompaniment.  I got sick to my stomach pretty much every Sunday I had to perform and I'd pray fervently that I'd do nothing to distract from the beauty of the singing (because, let's be honest, as an accompanist, my job is to NOT be noticed but make the choir sound good).  My anxiety levels went through the roof some Sundays.  It was truly a sacrifice.

But I loved that calling (of which I was relieved a month or so ago).  I played songs I would never have bothered with before, deeming them too challenging.  I had a reason to sit down at the piano on a regular basis, sharpening my skills, setting an example for my piano playing (but not always practicing) children.  My home was filled with beautiful music.  My kids got to watch me struggle through something - endowing them with the reassurance that even Mom has to do hard things.  The blessings don't end there.

So here's my point.  This is just a small example of the sacrifices I've made as a token of my faith in God.  Accompanying a choir was extremely uncomfortable for me.  I've done things that were downright scary (hello, missionary for 18 months halfway across the world, anyone?) because I believed in the promised blessings.  And each time I've accepted the challenge, I have watched my knowledge and capacity to accomplish grow, I've enjoyed increased wisdom, learned new skills, developed compassion, made new friends, and on and on and on.  The invitation to serve is one that is rewarded tenfold.  I've seen that again and again.  And I'm grateful for this most recent calling, which allowed me to see those blessings in a very measurable way.

Mommy Monday

Starting in first grade, my kids make their own school lunches.  In their opinions, it's just another way I like to torture them.  In mine, they're learning a valuable skill, one of which they are perfectly capable.  When they start to complain about how "no one else in my class has to make their own lunch", I retort by saying, "How lucky are you?  You don't have someone else deciding what you have to eat every day!"  Perspective, people, perspective.

Our little lunch-making tradition really isn't that painful when it comes right down to it.  Each child gets one school lunch per week.  Plus, I have designated Monday as a token lunch made by yours truly to give my kids a break on the one day of the week when no one really feels like doing anything extra at 7:30 in the morning.  It's my little gift to them.  Most weeks I include a little love note, or a cookie, or something else to remind them that I occasionally make concessions for them in spite of my rigidity when it comes to chores and routines.  We call it "Mommy Monday".

When I first established this little tradition, it seemed to increase my kids appreciation for me.  They would come home from school and remember to thank me for the little treat I had given them, or to tell me how much they loved the bagel with cream cheese I had taken time to make.  I'd even find the notes I had written, resting on their nightstands, reminders of my love.  But then, as often happens, the thank you's became less frequent, the compliments on my culinary skills few and far between, and they began taking Mommy Monday for granted as a "Yay, I've got an extra 10 minutes to do what I want this morning!" day.  While I'd slave away over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, they'd opt out of piano practice to crawl back in bed after breakfast.  Or I'd discover them snuggling with the cat after I'd cut up apples and smothered them with ascorbic acid to prevent browning.  Once or twice they even had the gall to read a book instead of completing chores to get out the door on time.  It was a slap in the face to see them lazing around while I added this extra chore to the gazillion other things that I do on any given morning.  But, hey, that's motherhood, right?  Getting taken for granted?

Not if I can help it.

I told the girls that if they wanted to keep Mommy Monday as a tradition, they had to get all their morning chores done on time or they would be making their own lunches the following Monday.  I think I had to follow through on that only twice to earn their appreciation again.  Fast learners, eh? 

We think that our school is the best!

Those are actual words from one of the songs Eve and her friends sang at Joy School graduation.  And I must say, after 7 years of doing this, I whole-heartedly agree.  I don't know how preschool would look for us if we didn't do Joy School every year(though I suspect I might find out soon, because Eve's group of 6 has dwindled down to a mere 3 next year, thanks to friends who thought moving away would be a good idea...sob).

We love Joy School around here, and one of the best parts of Joy School is graduation, where we gather all of the families into our backyard for a celebration of these adorable four-year-olds.  These pictures pretty much sum it up:

Have I mentioned how much I love preschoolers?

Tim thinks he's being funny by snapping shots of some of my best faces.

Yep, I think I was okay not knowing how "expressive" I am when giving speeches.

Here's to another wonderful Joy School year.  May there be many more.  Or, at least one more.

The ants go marching.

We have a little gem in our neighborhood - easy access to the Oregon Trail Reserve (actual sections of the original Oregon Trail now used for pedestrians only).  As a build-up to our upcoming trip to Southern Utah, during which I fully expected to march my children up and down various mountains to see otherwise hidden sights, we decided on a few practice runs.  Our first was a 1-2 mile jaunt down and up the Kelton Ramp (a path blazed to traverse a steep bluff overlooking the Boise River).

 We borrowed the tree swing for a few minutes to take a break.

 Because only the best hikers adorn themselves with superhero capes and masks.

And apparently, the kids did so well that our first "prep" hike was our last.  Wish us luck on the 3.2 mile, moderately strenuous hike to Delicate Arch next month!