School days

I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again: I love my job.

When I was in high school, junior or senior year, I decided I wanted to be an Art Teacher. I never changed my major in college. I have always been sure. I never thought I'd love being an elementary art teacher, but this is where I was offered a job, so I took it. Someone else knew better than me what was best for me because I can't imagine teaching anyone else.

Last week was Teacher Appreciation Week. I love, love, love the cards kids give me- especially the ones they make. Last year I got one from a third grader that said, "Thank you so much for getting me past that awkward stick figure drawing stage."

Girl, you haven't been to middle school. You ain't seen awkward yet.

One card, from a very, very intelligent 1st grader had what looked like a yellow "1", a plus sign, then a blue "1" equals a green "1". When I read it, I immediately thought, "Wow. I'm glad I don't teach him math." ...it took me a few moments to realize that those weren't numbers but just the colors: yellow plus blue equals green.

I like to teach art history to the kids because so few of them know the stories behind the pictures we look at. When we discuss an artist's life, they are always most interested in when they died, how old were they when it happened, and how did it happen (which I have to gloss over for this age group for quite a few artists- rough crowd).

So, one day I wrote the problem out on the board to figure out how old an artist was when he died and how old he'd be if he were still alive today. When I started writing on the board I noticed an awed silence and heard whispers around the crowd, "oh my gosh. mrs.f can do math..."

What's best are the stories I come home with. John loves to hear what happened at school that day. Some stories are happy, too many will break your heart, but my favorites are the funny ones.

I was walking by a first grade class in the hallway on my way to my room and I noticed a cute shirt... then I looked again. It worn by a sweet, quiet little girl who gives hugs and says thank you. The background was a giant rainbow (think gay pride rainbow), in the foreground were two female silhouettes (like the kind on the door of public restrooms) and they were holding hands. The words on the shirt said, "Lez B Friendz".

This girl had no idea and I'd bet money whoever bought her that shirt and let her wear it to school had no idea either. It WAS cute.

During Field Day I had a Kindergarten class right after their time at Field Day. They were hot, sweaty and exhausted. We had a laid-back lesson that day. When we lined up, a little boy who can be quite a handful, raised his hand. When I called on him, he said, "Mrs. F... I smell like... I smell like... I smell like HOT CHICKEN!" He was bewildered and I was doing my best at suppressing laughter.

I know I can't change the world, and honestly, I don't think I'd want to- but if I can change their worlds for the better, I've lived a good life. Because they sure have brightened mine.

Good point.

Things said by Iwalani in the last few months:

One morning she wanted cake for breakfast. I let her know there was no way I was letting her have cake for breakfast, let alone any meal of the day. The next morning on one of my more productive morning walks (haha) Nani and I got doughnuts for the family for breakfast. When I put that round, pepto-bismol pink iced, sprinkled monstrosity in front of her she says, "So, I can't have cake for breakfast but I can have this?" Mama got schooled.

The other day I was showing her how to do something more effectively. She was doing it one way but it wasn't what I considered the best or easiest way so I showed her my way and told her to try it like that. She said, "Well, I would do it your way, but I don't want to be wrong." The worst part is, she was sincere.

SOOO looking forward to the teenage years.

Catching up

There are a few things I have forgot to mention (post pictures of) here so the next few posts will be dedicated to just that.

Here are some pictures of the kids from Easter. Like other holidays, it was one busy day for the Friskys. First we went to the Turner's to hunt eggs there:

and play in the fountain.
Cheese!



Then we visited Uncle Buck's house for another awesome egg hunt.
Good times.

Triumph!

I don't have much time in my day to be crafty, but when I get an idea, it's like a splinter: I've got to get it out or it may get infected.

That being said, I have been trying my hand at freezer paper stenciling. So far, I've made three attempts.

The first one, a bunny for a shirt for Iwa, didn't turn out so well as a result of me not understanding the directions on the ink I used.

The second attempt did turn out well and ended up being t-shirts for the ladies I work with.

Since I don't have pictures of the first two on my computer now, here's a photo of attempt 3:
It's a play on the old logo of the Triumph motorcycles- the kind my dad has been messing with for years. I was going to replace his name in a patent plate like this:
...but those numbers are a booger to cut out with an Xacto knife, so I saw this version:
...gave it the old school font and swoosh going into the "h" from behind and called it done.

I have many more plans for customizing clothes for the kids (and a few ideas for adults) and now with a Goodwill even closer to home and two months without school, there's no stopping me!! (slowing me down, however, is very very likely)

Xerox

Wow, these kids really do look like me.

It's the magic number

What a week THIS has been! They say things happen in 3's. Here's our three:

1. Leilea's elbow dislocation. (see post below)

2. I accidentally gave myself a paper cut in the eye. I was alphabetizing large pieces of artwork for our upcoming Art Show and one piece caught the wind right and ended up in my eyeball. I went to the optometrist and the small town office just gave me my overdue yearly eye exam at the same time. I got some eye drops and killed two birds with one stone.

3. Kawika came home from school that day with a scraped up eyelid and face. He had an accident at school when someone threw a book and his face got in the way. John's telling people things like he was injured sword fighting or that it's a skateboard injury. (I can just hear John now..."He was totally just minding his own business when a Sith Lord's light saber nicked his face in their duel. It's cool, though. He's using the Force to heal himself.")

If things like this happen in 3's, we can be done, right?

Elbow noodles

As a brand new parent, you treat your new baby like glass. You cringe as you watch the seasoned nurse scrubbing the gunk out of that china doll's hair like it's motor oil in her fingernails. You take as much time as you need when you transfer that new bundle of joy to the arms of someone probably just as careful.

Meanwhile, that baby's older siblings are holding that baby doll- you lovingly bought to help prepare them for their new little addition- by the ankle, as it's head bumps and scrapes every inch of the path they walk... probably butt-naked... with marker on it's face... and a fresh hair cut.

That new parent slowly learns that their baby isn't quite so fragile. As for big brother or sister learning to take more care? Yeah..... that's gonna take some time.

Saturday evening Iwa was trying to help Leilea onto the Love Sac and hurt her arm. Leilea stopped crying but held that arm, elbow bent 90 degrees, still at her side. We thought maybe it was the shoulder but she lifted it without pain and even extended her arm.

We knew something was wrong when she sat on John's lap for over half an hour.

Leilea's not a spectator.

(meanwhile, Iwa felt so bad she got a pillow and hid under the dining room table. I had to crawl under there and talk to her to get her out. After that, Leilea kept saying, "Eba... eba" and giving her hugs and Iwa sat with her and petted her head. It was so sweet, I wanted to cry.)

We called the nurse, took her in and it was just a dislocated elbow. I mean, "just" to us. I know it hurt like crazy- especially when they corrected it, but it was a quick easy fix with no follow up or recovery. The doctor even showed me the maneuver if it ever happens again.

When we got home, I, being the person I am, Googled "toddler dislocated elbow" and found out all about it.

If websites like BabyCenter, WebMd, and Wikipedia gave medical degrees, I'd be one of the first in line.

As it turns out, a dislocated elbow, also called nursemaid's elbow, is most common in the left arms of girls ages 1-3. I thought about what data they had to collect to get a statistic so specific and wondered why that's what they found. Then I read the part where it happens a lot when someone is holding the hand of the child and the child tries to get away or throw themselves on the floor in a tantrum... and it made more sense.

...but I also wondered about the cases they studied for the statistic. I wondered that if they went back to the cases and looked at the causes, how many older siblings there were that caused the injury.

And of THOSE cases, I wondered just how many of those older siblings had somewhere buried in their closet a 1-3 year old baby doll, scalped, butt-naked, with road rash on it's forehead, marker on it's face, and more love than any toy had ever known.