Evie on her way home from the zoo.

Evie saying hello!

Evie at school listening to a story.

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Evie resting in Portia's new couch!

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Spawning

I was teaching today about the importance of salmon in the pacific northwest, especially to the Coastal Indians. (we're studying the first peoples of Washington, you see.)

So there I was, trying to explain how the Native Americans used nets called "weirs" to catch the fish when they were spawning. And there, the problem was born.

Spawning.

Spawning and the 7th grade.

Yeah.

So of course, I was asked, "Mrs. Scott, was IS spawning?"

And I looked at the student, and I looked at the class, and I said, "it's one of your vocabulary words, you tell me."

And the student said, "you mean, like the fish, you know, do it?"

I said "No. They lay eggs."

It was then that another student rasied their hand, "but wait Mrs. Scott, if the girl fish lay the eggs, are they already, you know, all "fertilized?" I mean, you know, do the boy fish have, like, thingies?"

Sigh. And off the tracks we go...

And so I tried to explain that the female fish would release her eggs and the male fish would then fertilize them as they fell into the rocks below.

"But Mrs. Scott, how are the eggs BEING fertilized? I mean, you know, are the boy fish HURTING the eggs? How does it work, exactly?"

Ahem. I should have just stopped it right there. But no. I am always one to try to explain things. I always try to answer their questions. Because you see, I'm an idiot.

And at this moment, it came to me, the perfect metaphor. I can explain this to them in a way they can understand.

And so I said, "how many of you have ever seen a crop dusting plane flying over a field?"

It was at that moment I realized maybe my idea was maybe not as good as I thought. I could hear my brain saying "nooooooooo!"

But it was too late. It was out there. The plane, and the dusting.

"So you mean Mrs. Scott, the boy fish SPRAY their stuff? All over the eggs?"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH"

Good-bye topic. Good by attention. Good-bye class, I can see I have completely lost you by now.

Just another day in the 7th grade.

I should have quit while I was behind....

Tonight was swimming lesson night.

For me, this is always a stressful night because I have to leave school, drive across the bridge, pick Evie up from daycare, drive to the Y, change into our swimwear and both of us in the pool by 5pm. On a good night, this is nearly impossible for me.

Tonight however, was beyond ridiculous.

I left work with ample time, drove to daycare, successfully picked her up and got to the Y with 10 minutes to spare, (an all-time record for me.) Feeling proud of myself for having so much extra time, I allowed myself the time to dress us at a leisurely pace. I got Evie's clothes off, her swim suit on, and gave her her towel to hold while I got undressed. Sadly however, I didn't realize until after I was standing in the locker room in my all together, that sometime between last night when I packed the gym bag and that moment of public nakedness, my swim suit had somehow made it out of the gym bag and was nowhere to be found.

Evie can't be in the pool without me yet, so I had to frantically get dressed put her clothes back on her, get shoes on the both of us, re-pack the bag and run out of the Y with a crying, devastated child in tow, who was reaching for the pool begging to go swimming.

I got in the car, drove home, found my suit lying on the middle of my bedroom floor, threw it and a pair of my hubs' swim trunks on, grabbed a sweatshirt and headed out the door.

We arrived at the pool, and I dropped the bag on the pool deck, stripped her, pulled off my sweatshirt and jumped in the pool. Just as I was about to take a quick dunk to wet our hair, I realized her ear plugs weren't in her ears. Since she's the ear infection and tube queen, I immediately pulled her OUT of the pool, quickly squished her plugs in her ears and jumped back in.

I then started explaining to the teacher why we were so late, when I realized she had on no swim diaper. I contemplated just leaving her diaperless, she has after all, been wearing panties successfully all week/weekend. But I just knew that if I did this, she would chose this time to forget about being potty trained.

So I pulled her BACK out of the pool, grabbed our stuff, quickly walked to the locker room, stripped her naked, pulled a dry swim diaper out of the bag and desperately fought to get it on her now very wet bum; I then proceeded to fight with her soaking wet swimsuit to pull it back on her.

FINALLY, we got in the water- suited, plugged and diapered. By this point we had 5 more minutes of lesson and it was over.

I played with her for 30 minutes in the family swim area and with the promise of a happy meal, got out of the pool.

We went back in to the locker room to change back in to our warm clothes. I successfully got her dressed and had her sitting on the bench waiting for me to change. It was only then that I realized I had left the house IN my swim suit and a sweatshirt. I had no panties, no bra and certainly no real clothes to put on. I rummaged through the bag and found a pair of workout pants. I went to the bathroom, pulled off the soaking wet suit, pulled ON the pants and the sweatshirt over my cold body and left for the local drive through.

She better become a dang fine swimmer.

What does it mean to be content in a world full of oppulence?

I have been having a discussion with my husband about our life as of late. It seems, many of my married girlfriends are having similar conversations with their spouses. In a rough economy, many of our men-folk are feeling overwhelmed, dejected and generally frustrated with their percieved lack of accomplishments, thinking they should be far more financially secure by now, since they are after all, in their 30s. They are comparing their lives to that of their parents and grandparents. They remember a time when their parents had solid jobs and were home by 6 every night, where then the entire family would sit down and eat a healthy and well-balanced dinner. They remember being taken on fun vacations every summer, going to the store to pick out fresh school supplies and new clothes every fall and Christmases with stacks of presents as high as the tree itself.

Apparently all our husbands grew up on a television sitcom.

I grew up in a house with 6 kids and very little money. We literally ate what we could grow and when the food ran low, we just spread it out to last a little bit longer. Often this meant living off a pot of soup made of whatever my Mom could find in the cupboards. Chicken was for special occasions only; rabbit was the meat of choice (we raised them on the farm.) I ate my first steak my senior year of high school. On a daily basis we drank only water or milk (which was from the goat when times got really lean,) we only had soda on birthdays. We had juice only when my parents got paid but it would be the cheapest kind one could purchase; we could always tell how the family finances were doing, depending on whether or not there was a can of juice concentrate in the freezer.

We only got new clothes on our birthday and Christmas, and even then it was one outfit we got to pick out. Nearly everything we wore or played with was gently used, and given to us by friends or family who had since replaced them with the latest trends.

The thing is, I don't remember my childhood as a horrible time. Granted there are aspects of it that I'd rather not think about (mainly those painful events inflicted upon us by floundering parents) but as far as the kids being able to find ways to play and having fun? That was never in short supply. We spent endless hours of my childhood exploring the fields and forests around my house, using our imaginations to create new and exciting worlds.

I grew up in a house where if you "wanted" something badly enough, you would find a way to earn some money and save it until you had enough to buy what you wanted. This meant I was working by age 11, driving the hay truck or bucking bales, mowing lawns, caring for neighbor animals and livestock, mucking out stalls etc. Often, I found by the time I earned the money required to buy whatever it was I thought I wanted, it didn't seem that important to me anymore, and I just kept saving. When there was a time when I did really, really want something (like a new bat for softball) being able to buy them myself was a huge accomplishment and I subsequently treated my "possessions" with great care.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, the harder you have to work for something, the more you tend to care about it.

I know for me, I've never felt more blessed than I do now. I have a healthy and happy daughter and a loving husband. Sure we don't have the cars we would *like* to drive, or the house we'd *like* to have or make the money we would *like* to earn, but we both have a strong education and decent jobs that don't require us to work outside in the elements. We have a healthy and happy little girl, a cozy house to live in and a fridge full of food. To me, this is still pretty amazing.

There will always be somebody who is more successful, more rich, more beautiful. I guess the question is, when will we decide to be happy with who we are and what we have in this life?

What do you think?

The US Snowboarding team is wearing specially-designed plaid jackets and gore-tex "denim" pants supplied by Burton. Some say they look too casual for the world stage, some say they perfectly symbolize America's style.

What do you think?

Evie reading a book 02/03/2010

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Evie dancing 02/03/2010

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