1st week of May

Sickness
Well, the sickness that Miriam and I had last weekend expanded its reach to Isaac, Anastaya, and Elizabeth.  Poor Miriam had it the worst though.  She had a solid 9 days of feeling lousy.  She'd think she was finally feeling better and then would be hit with another wave of sickness.  My fingers are crossed that she's on the mend!  I hate being sick!  Exercise is my prozac and being sick for a week means not only am I feeling achey and tired, but I'm feeling grumpy and edgy because I can't get any good exercise endorphins.  Friday the kids were out of school because of teacher inservice and it was just a day begging for a trip to the YMCA but I held back to give myself a little more time to recover.

Jacob has a job!
Last month, Jacob started working at a daycare in town.  It's close enough to our house that he can walk or ride a bike to work.  Little kids have loved him his entire life so it's a pretty good fit for his personality.  It's only a minimum wage job but since he lives at home with no expenses, he's feeling pretty rich.  His bike was stolen while he volunteered at the hospital last fall but I've been letting him use mine.  After a few weeks, someone stole it from in front of the daycare.  Our other kids chained and locked their bikes in the garage so Jacob wouldn't borrow them and he had to start walking.  A few weeks later, he noticed what looked like my bike on a balcony of an apartment building near his work.  He called me to ask what brand bike it was but I had no idea.  He went over and looked and sure enough, it was my bike.  Heart pounding with adrenaline, he grabbed the bike and brought it back to the daycare.  The owner is letting him keep the bike inside so it doesn't disappear again.

Jacob prefers working with the school age children at the day care.  One thing he doesn't care for is diapers.  One day this week a little girl who should have been wearing a diaper was somehow going commando.  They didn't realize it until she'd had an accident that ended up all one the place.  She was a  mess, it was on the carpet, the walls.  Jacob was given the task of keeping the other children occupied while someone else cleaned up the  mess.  I think he was pretty happy with the distribution of responsibility!

ACT Graduation
Wednesday was the last day of the ACT program Anastaya and I have been participating in for the last 12 weeks.  click here for more info  I think we started with about 20 families.  Five completed the program, pretty typical for a free program!  Although I don't like getting up at 5:30 to exercise, it's been nice to get twice a week one on one time with Anastaya.  (Our drives to the Y are pretty quiet as she snoozes next to me in the car but on the way home she's a lot more awake.)  We've enjoyed the Y so much, William asks every day if we're going, that we're going to try to squeeze a membership out of the monthly budget.  We have such a big family and small income that we qualify for a bit of a discount and no joining fee so if we realize we can't swing it, we won't be out more than the monthly fee.

The instructors from ACT.

Kelly who taught the physical fitness portion,

Anastaya

Melina who taught nutrition,

Kathy who is in charge of the program and led the discussion group.

"New" bike for Elizabeth
Elizabeth has been needing a new bike for a while.  The little bike she's been using never lets her stretch out her legs and they get so tired.  Dode had looked on craigslist but hadn't found "the bike".  While out on the reservation for work one day, he'd noticed a bike at a garage sale.  On his way home, he stopped to see how much it was.  It was one of those garage sales where nothing has a price.  We hate those kind! He asked the lady of the house how much she wanted for the bike, thinking it looked pretty beat up and was only worth about $5.  She said, "$5", Dode said, "Sold", threw it in the back of the truck and brought it home.  Once he got it home, he and Elizabeth started cleaning it up.  It was definitely worth $5, it's hardly been ridden.  Elizabeth is thrilled with her new bigger bike.

She's been enjoying practicing her mountain biking skills in the yard

Track Meet
Thursday, Anastaya had her first track meet.  It was held at the high school in town.  She participating in the hurdles, 100 meter dash, and discus.  They always need volunteers so I did my usual job of helping with timing.  You'd think with something that happens so often, they'd work out the kinks in the system.  They have to get 8 volunteers each time to do the timing.  We're each handed a stack of cards with our place on them (I had 3rd this time) and a timer.  We stand near the finish line and watch for the smoke when the starting gun is fired to start our timers.  Once our runner passes the finish line (3rd place for me), we stop the timer.  Then it gets interesting.  I have to check with the 2nd place timer to make sure that my 3rd place time is longer than her 2nd place.  If it's not (because one of us hit the button too slowly), we switch timers.  Then I go to the 4th place timer and repeat the process.  Once all our timers are in the right order, I have to remember what youth actually received that time.  I find them on the track, give them the 3rd place time and hand them a card that say's 3rd for that event.  They go over to the official score keeper and give them the card and tell them the time.  Half the time the kids can't remember their time and I have to go over and tell them.

When you're a timer, you get so focussed on the finish line that you really don't notice the race.  I've had parents ask me, "Who won?"  To which I reply, "I was really only keeping track of 3rd place, sorry."

giving it her all at the end of the hurdles

She's wearing the new spikes my mom bought her for the 1st time and trying to get used to the feel of them.

I think I'm too sentimental to be a timer.  There's something about those youth who are out there participating when they know there's no way they'll ever win.  The youth who are half a lap behind the winners, or even a full lap behind on the mile.  As I see them rounding that last corner before the straight stretch before the finish, my eyes well up with tears each time with pride for what they're doing.  I've always been a sucker for the underdog!  It reminds me of the poem I inserted below.  I wish real life is like the crowd in the poem who cheered loudly for the last runner.  In real life, they're setting up the next race and have all but forgotten the lone runner coming in far behind the rest.  I guess that's what brings me to tears.  The one who tries so hard, expending effort far longer than anyone else and comes across the finish line without fanfare.  As long as I'm a timer, they'll find me at the finish clapping with tears in my eyes.

The Race

attributed to Dr. D.H. "Dee" Groberg



Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face,
    my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
A children’s race, young boys, young men; how I remember well,
    excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn’t hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race
    or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son,
    and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.


The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire,
    to win, to be the hero there, was each young boy’s desire. 
One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd,
    was running in the lead and thought “My dad will be so proud.”
But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip,
    the little boy who thought he’d win, lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace,
    and midst the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face. 

As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldn’t win it now.
    Humiliated, he just wished to disappear somehow.
But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
    which to the boy so clearly said, “Get up and win that race!”
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that’s all,
    and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
    his mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again. 

He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
    “I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.”
But through the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face
    with a steady look that said again, “Get up and win that race!”
So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last.
    “If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to run real fast!”
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten...
    but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again. 
Defeat! He lay there silently. A tear dropped from his eye.
    “There’s no sense running anymore! Three strikes I’m out! Why try?
I’ve lost, so what’s the use?” he thought. “I’ll live with my disgrace.” 
     But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face.


“Get up,” an echo sounded low, “you haven’t lost at all,
    for all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
Get up!” the echo urged him on, “Get up and take your place!
    You were not meant for failure here! Get up and win that race!”
So, up he rose to run once more, refusing to forfeit,
    and he resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been,
    still he gave it all he had and ran like he could win.
Three times he’d fallen stumbling, three times he rose again.
    Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.


They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place,
    head high and proud and happy -- no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen youngster crossed the line, in last place,
    the crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
    you would have thought he’d won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.”
    “To me, you won,” his father said. “You rose each time you fell.”


And now when things seem dark and bleak and difficult to face,
    the memory of that little boy helps me in my own race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.
    And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
And when depression and despair shout loudly in my face,
    another voice within me says, “Get up and win that race!”

Bowling Date
After canceling our date the last two months due to various reasons, Dode and I got to go on a date on Friday.  There weren't any movies worth seeing and it was raining outside so we went bowling.  The bowling alley in town is still pretty old fashioned where you keep your own score.  I actually bowled on a youth league here when I was a teenager.  (My handicap helped us way more than my score ever did!).  I'm even such dork that I took bowling in college for a required PE class.  Dode says, "Who goes to college to take bowling?"  Me!  That being said, I'm a pretty terrible bowler but I am really really good at knocking down 9 pins.  Neither of us made very high scores but we had a fun time together.  Dode must be pretty out of shape.  His legs were sore the next two days from all those squats as you throw the ball.  He also lost the feeling in part of this thumb.  I guess I plan some wild dates!

So much for good intentions

As part of the ACT program, we're supposed to make short term goals.  One of my goals was to reserve Sundays for treats and skip them the rest of the week.  Then a cookbook I'd pre-ordered came in the mail.  I just had to try some of the treats.  And just like that, the goal was squashed.  

who can resist a homemake hostess cupcake?