Life according to Angela – Page 108

Oh, this house

This week I found:

A dead lizard on a patio table… a highly prized gift (presented in its dead state) from a neighbor, worthy of its prominent placement for repose. On detection, there were many accompanying promises that the children will bury said lizard.

A homemade bird feeder down on the ground.

Evidence of a sick dog on the carpet, the dog having gorged himself on the birdseed from the above mentioned feeder.

An entire box of Kleenex emptied, used as paper towels, and left on the floor of the guest bathroom because “Mom forgot to hang up a fresh towel.”

Many love notes from Mark, decorated with hearts and trees. The attending lollipops, soon desired by the giver, magically evolved from being Mom’s gift from Mark to Mom’s gift to Mark. Genius!

I have determined that:

I need to be more engaged in running this house today.
At least the kitchen table looks lovely in the morning sun.
Never mind on running the house. I’m going to read a book.
I love my life, dead lizards, dog messes, and all.
We need more lollipops.

Reporting for duty

The weekend was dreamy. I read Tolstoy. We went to the symphony and heard an amazing concert pianist. We slept in on Saturday and Sunday. There was a fishing trip. Richard shopped for yard stuff, which I am told is heaven.

So now it’s time to face it. It’s a new week.

Early morning seminary hit us like a frigid mass of arctic air.

Richard drove to work, forgetting his work computer.

And I have a dental cleaning. And lots of algebra to correct.

It’s time to get it together. The week has begun!

Um, that’s why the internet was invented

“You haven’t fully embraced the concept of the internet,” said Richard to me one night. I was worrying again about sharing so much about ourselves on the old blog, although I realize that’s pretty egocentric.

We have conversations like this all the time. It begins with me asking, “Aren’t you worried….”

someone will arrest us for leaving the kids?
someone will start to stalk us?
some kid will fall through the gaps between the springs of the trampoline?
we’ll get sick from all the dog droppings in the yard?
our kid will need counseling because I don’t want him to play baseball anymore?
our kids will never reach their full stature because they won’t eat peas?
our kids will never get married?
I’m becoming the Miss Havisham of baby clothes hoarding… an old shriveled hag, hanging on to sizes 0-3 mos?
our dog will permanently destroy our relationship with my family?
our kid will get whooping cough because I might have missed an immunization…?
someone will use our family as a poster family against homeschooling?
people won’t like us?

“Worry is just in your nature,” the husband replies, although that’s not an answer to my question(s). Maybe he does worry, but it’s just not in his nature to vocalize it.

Time for Paige

Believe it or not, my worst fear is that I am messing up my children’s lives by educating them at home (and other places). There is no homespun superiority complex being taught or felt at this home school. I run an over-achieving-so-no-one-will-question-us kind of home school.

Sometimes in my efforts to prove we’re providing a great education, I ask too much of my children. High school brought a new level of fear and worry for me and an accompanying workload for Paige that left her exhausted. She stopped doing many things that she loved. There was no reading for fun, no sewing, and no painting.

This semester we made sure Paige isn’t overbooked. It’s good to see her doing the things that she loves again. She is a great student, but there is more to life than school.

Thank goodness.

A Few Thoughts

Richard took the boys hiking yesterday and then spent time with Timothy working on his pinewood derby car and with Daniel working on a computer programming lesson. What a man.

With all the time I had without family yesterday I cleaned the house and then read a book. I haven’t read Anne of Green Gables in years. Reading it now that I have a teenage girl of my own puts a new dimension on the words and feelings of Marilla and Matthew. I think I cried seven times.

My Sunday plans include more time reading and attaching stamps to a stack of letters and notes that have been accumulating for two weeks. I love sending and receiving letters.

I am no longer teaching the 3 and 4 year olds at church. I will never forget them, but they have already forgotten me.

Paige played music from the Phantom of the Opera on the piano all morning. What a nice thing to have children who can play the piano.

We enjoyed this movie

I’ve lost them

I see myself trying to live life in every direction. This gets me in trouble because it makes me a little skatter-brained.

I get so frustrated by my own ignorance, especially when I know I have learned something before and forgotten it. I’m always reading and writing to try and fight my own ignorance… or dementia.

“Enthalpy or Entropy?” I asked myself when I opened my messy kitchen drawer this afternoon. By the way, a real science teacher would never have to ask herself this question.

Richard overheard me. (I guess I wasn’t asking in my head.) With a swagger (the kind you can put together while sitting in a chair,) he effortlessly said, “Entropy.”

If I lost you in the above paragraphs, please don’t be concerned. Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen. I’m brilliant. I’m together. And my kitchen drawer is not a mess.

Back to the beginning. You know, about living life in every direction. I feel driven to know more. So much of my life is neglected, but I read books with heft…whilst teaching, eating, and writing this nonsense on the blog.

Today I misplaced 8 pages of notes I have taken from my reading of the latest smartypants book. I lost the notes in one of the following places:

1. The dentist (45 minutes away)

2. Michael’s craft store

3. McDonald’s drive up (My, this is a confession tonight.)

4. Library drop-box

5. Somewhere in the van

I would really like to find the notes in the van, but it isn’t happening.

It could be dementia. I need to do some more crossword puzzles. Do you know that tonight one of the missionaries we invited over for dinner asked if I had a SON in the MTC? That would make me, well, a little bit older than I actually am. Ok, not much older.

It’s 8:30. Time to recharge the hearing aids and give the dentures a good soak!

And whoever sent me a text today giving me a hard time about passwords on my blog,
identify yourself. Just type my middle name if you know me, silly.
You should also know that I have only sent a text about 4 times in my life
and it was only because Ray had cancer. Nothing else can impel me to type with my thumbs.

Respectfully,

-A.R.

I choose optimism

Richard and I watched a movie called Invictus on Saturday. It was an interesting choice for us. It was about the South African Rugby team and Nelson Mandela’s early presidency. It followed President Mandela’s efforts to unite his country, divided by hatred and mistrust. Mandela devotes a lot of energy furthering the interests of the Rugby team. He saw that this team could help unite his country.

My favorite scene takes place at Mandela’s home and his adult daughter shares her hatred and mistrust for the Afrikaners, as they were the ones who had imprisoned her father. He tells her that it is a selfish thing to look at the world and judge it through the lens of her own pain. In other words, she needed to forgive. She needed to open her mind and heart; she needed to look through a different kind of lens.

A lot of people have been saying what a terrible place Arizona has become. A lot of people want to blame someone for the shooting. An associate of mine is seething in anger towards anyone who listens to conservative talk radio personalities (one in particular). It is unfortunate that this person is choosing to look at the situation solely through the lens of her own pain, distancing herself from people who could be her friends, despite political differences.

I have chosen to not be discouraged about the whole world, based on the horrific shooting on Saturday. Timothy was baptized at the time this horrible event took place. I was surrounded by people who came to support our family. We had neighbors, friends, and ward members all around us. I felt surrounded by love. The day before, a friend listened with patience and understanding to me. The day before this, a friend unselfishly came to our house to watch Mark while the older kids were at piano lessons so Richard and I could go to the play. On Wednesday, I saw parents, my bishop, and many scout leaders join together to help the little Cub Scouts make their pinewood derby cars.

These people do what Christ would do if He were here. They minister to me and my family.

Every day I am surrounded by my children. Their innocence gives me a hopeful perspective on the world. I see that my parenting and love is more powerful than the hatred of the world in their lives. This hope and perspective allows me to see that the Lord still intervenes, helping us to weather the troubles and see the world for its goodness, despite everything else.

See the trailer for Invictus here.

A New Playbill and a Terrible Stench

I’m up late boiling red cabbage (I bet you just repressed a gag reflex) to make an acid-base indicator for a science class I’m teaching tomorrow.

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble…

Wait. That’s the wrong play.

Richard and I saw Wicked today at Centennial Hall.

….fire burn and cauldron bubble…

(Ugh! the smell!)

So, we enjoyed Wicked. I knew very little about the show but I think this allowed me to experience the play unhindered by previous expectations and experiences. It was a thrill.

Happy to report

I found a pumpkin seed as I swept the floor today. That little feller has been sitting in my pantry since October. I decided that it was a tribute to the kind of house this is.

I’m happy to report that this house shows all the signs of use and/or neglect that a busy family house should. As for the school stuff, the bookshelves are brimming, the papers are bulging from the corners of their folders, and school projects line flat surfaces everywhere.

It’s a good life…minus the dog who ruined my new rug this week.