That’s Pretty Good for 42 years

         I notice as I age, parts of me don’t seem willing to move as well and my balance seems to be thrown off.  Actually has been for quite some time.  Sometimes it’s like when you have your arms spread out to either side from your shoulders and you lift one foot while trying to close your eyes.  Go ahead and try it.  I’ve not met anyone yet that can make it to a full minute.

Two years ago I had an MRI as I thought I’d been having stroke related symptoms.  Nothing was found.  But today I keep dad’s walker quite near the bed and have used it at night just to balance myself while getting up.  I have not yet used it to assist my walking.

As of now I don’t feel any different as far as balance goes. I do seem to be experiencing a little more pain in different places – like just behind my left knee – when I twisted it while exiting a bus.  The pain comes and goes. 

The other day Jenna was balancing on the wall and got off when she realized it led to a dead end.  I jokingly told her that I had expected her to leap from one wall to the next.

“Do you want me to?” she asked.

“No,” I panicked hoping she wouldn’t try.  If she missed, she would have gotten hurt. 

So with the next set of walls she said, “Look mom.  I’m leaping” and stepped down – which wasn’t a leap.

We crossed a set of tracks and I tried to demonstrate to her what a leap looks like.  Came out more like a Bernstein Bear teachable moment, as I lost balance and crashed to the ground – feeling pain on scraped knees and forehead.  I felt blessed that I wasn’t bleeding from the ungraceful land.

Tears rolled down my cheeks because I hurt.  I was foolish to try something I hadn’t attempted for several years. Jenna did her best to cheer me up – which was actually not cheering me, but annoyed me the more she tried to cheer me.  She sounded like a broken record.

The next day she asked if I was okay.  My knees were tender still.  She didn’t want to offend me by having me relive the moment I tried to leap but lost my balance.  She said my fall looked rather cool – like I had attempted an awesome ninja roll.  Really?  That’s what it looked like?  It certainly did not feel that way.

Saturday Roland said that he would take her skating.  He said he would skate with her.  Maybe we could do it for family home evening on Monday – tonight.  And so after dinner, we went to Hollywood Connections and Roland purchased wristbands for him and Jenna.  Both had invited me to skate, but after my ungraceful leap/graceful fall, I was not about to add wheels to my already unbalanced frame.

Jenna uses the walker as she can’t seem to get the hang of gliding.  She looks like she does when she is riding her scooter.  Using her left leg to move her around.  

Roland started out hugging the walls.  He fell his second time around.  I told him to move his feet outward instead of in front.   He got pretty good and went around just a bit faster and away from the walls.  It was a lot of work for his body.  Not bad for an out-of-shape and over sixty-year old.  I don’t know how many times he went around.  I would guess at least ten.  He said he hadn’t been on roller skates since 1972.  Holy Cow!  He was 19 and I was still in elementary school!

 I had fun watching them. My legs hurt as though I had been out there with them.

Roland thinks he’s going to be sore tomorrow.  He knows he needs the exercise.  I exercise with Jenna everyday when I walk her to and from school.  And the wheels we use are on the bus and not on our feet.

Why Learn Algebra?

            I get needing to know the basics of math.  I have multiplied or divided fractions when I doubled or halved a recipe.  I used addition and subtraction (mostly subtraction) when dealing with finances.  I have even measured things accurately. I get the basics and I do and have used them in real life.  Anything beyond the basics have been useless except for two times since graduating high school.

            The two situations in which I’ve been required to understand beyond basic (Algebra comes to mind) came when my children were taking math courses in school.  Tony used to milk his sessions.  It would take hours just to do one problem.  He didn’t get that if he would just do it instead of trying to get me to re-learn and do his assignments, he could have been done so much quicker.

Actually I have had hang-ups with algebra my entire life.  I think I would have been okay doing year round school.  With three months of summer vacation and no homework, I never did retain what dad had explained to me the year before.

Dad was a math nerd, actually.  He thrived on it.  Oh, yuck!!!  None of his kids had it in their genes to love math the way he did.  We all use the basics – but I doubt that any of us have ever dealt with algebra except to assist with homework so that our children in turn can help their children and so forth.

            When Jenna was too young to know any better, I had convinced her that math was/is fun and that she would love it – which she did.  From 2^nd- 4^th grade she basically did her math homework without my assistance – which was great for me.  By third grade I was at a loss just looking at her papers.

Multiplication has given her problems.  And she absolutely hates division.  Division, on the other hand, had always been my favorite (I mean if I absolutely have to pick a math favorite) and hated multiplication the most (which is ironic as you need to know how to multiply in order to divide) and so for the last two weeks I have been explaining the technique – which I’m sure that she gets but seems to experience ADD each time she does it – though it still doesn’t take near as long to do her entire paper as it did for Tony to do just one problem)

Unlike Tony, Jenna LOVES algebra.  She thinks it’s fun to create and do problems.  (I was hoping my father’s genes would skip a generation - perhaps they have)

Not long ago, Randy was taking a monster algebra class through the college.  At least Jenna’s problems don’t require as much paper as his did.  He must have gone through one notebook per class assignment.  That’s gross.

In order to better understand what it was that he was doing, he felt the need to explain, making Jenna and me his pupils.  She thrived on it.  He didn’t think she totally got the concept, but said she was getting the right answers.  I was, too.  I just wasn’t enjoying it.  But actually, neither was Randy.

There seems to be only a handful of people who not only get algebra and trigonometry and calculus, etc. but thrive on it like it is the most awesome thing ever.  Great for those people.  Kudos to them for having that desire.  But leave me out of it.  I don’t wish to rack my brain with symbols and results that are basically meaningless to me just so I can relearn it to teach my own children.

I have a friend who majored in math (who does that?  What do you even do with a math degree?) and had all four of his boys memorize their times tables before they were six.  All smart.  All knowledgeable – not just about math but politics and current events and are basically brilliant people.  Surprisingly they’re not boring – often times their topic of subject doesn’t interest me, but I have enjoyed hanging out with them on occasion.

Anyway, my own personal philosophy is that all most real people really need is the basics and the rest is there for those who truly want to learn it, but no one should be forced just to keep those math majors in the business of teaching math or whatever detailed jobs may be offered to the mathematical minded.  I just don’t get it.  I certainly don’t thrive on it.  Even the game of Monopoly is not fun.  Too much math involved.  I’m grateful that Jenna believes it’s fun.  She likes math.  She also enjoys going to the dentist.  I honestly can’t decide which I think is more painful.

The Devastation of Adolescence and Experiencing Peter Pan Syndrome

         When Jenna was two and three, she insisted that Roland stop calling her the baby.  “I am a big girlr” she’d inform us (actually I don’t remember the exact pronunciation; she said it as one syllable, but it sounded like she had an extra ‘r’ at the end.)

         When she started to go through adolescence, she no longer wished to be a big girl.  She wanted to be like her hero, Peter Pan – without having to move to Never Never Land.  Becoming a woman was something she was NOT looking forward to her.

         Two years ago I started a post which I did not attach to my blog.  It was the day when I bought Jenna’s first bra.  The very idea was just too devastating for her.  And I told her that I wouldn’t tell any family members – and because I have family members which read my post, I didn’t post about it – I had made a promise.

         I understood the devastation.  She started developing early.  And although the two bumps were rather small at the time – they just seemed to stand out more when she wore tee shirts.  Roland and I both agreed that it was time to do something about it – though I personally haven’t ever been aware of one developing at eight or starting off third grade wearing bras (training bras – but still)

         She gets her early development from her father’s side.  Unlike Jenna, who has always seemed be ahead of her peers both academically and *physically, I was a late bloomer.  Unlike many of my friends who were wearing bras before junior high school (some as early as fourth grade), I don’t think I got my first bra until midway through 7^th or 8^th grade.

At age 12 and 13, I was probably where Jenna is now – though I was always skinny and flat chested.  In addition to another early development, Jenna’s body also seemed to be going through a chunky stage.  Her belly and chest nearly resembled that of a sumo wrestler.  (Just what every girl wants to hear, right?)  But just as skinny girls can balloon out (which I did by the time I hit my mid thirties) chunky girls can lose the weight (my second daughter-in-law was quite chunky between 8 and 14.  You’d never know it now)

With tears in her eyes Jenna said she didn’t want to wear a bra.  I understood.  Early developers were probably teased even more than the late bloomers were.  She said that I was lucky that I didn’t have to wear a bra in elementary school.  I think she’s right. 

We had gone shopping for shoes and pants as well.  Jenna had her heart set on getting some high heels.  At that time she was wearing a women’s size 5 ½.  At least according to the shoes that she selected.  She paid for them herself and wore them to the mall.  

I was amused at watching her clicking down the aisles in shoes she had obviously never experienced before – but felt proud to be wearing as a children’s pocket book dangled from her arm.  

My little girl is no longer little.  She is blossoming in all directions.  She’s becoming a young lady though she would like to remain a little girl.

Today Roland is taking Jenna to the dinosaur exhibit at Southtown Expo.  He had invited me to go along, but I think Jenna really needs some alone time with her daddy.  And perhaps I need some alone time with just me.

It would be fun to go just to take pictures – though I can give the camera to Roland just as easily.  I hope they have a fantastic day together.

Creating Memories With Two Brothers

            I remember how I enjoyed watching fireworks when I was younger.  I remember lighting sparklers with my dad and dancing around the yard.  Fireworks were reserved for July 4^th (anniversary of our nation) and July 24^th (anniversary of our state) and gradually that turned into weekends. 

Here in our part of west Valley, the fireworks happen EVERY SINGLE DAY IN JULY – or at least from the 3^rd to the 27^th.  Jenna’s enthusiasm shines for each holiday.  She’d been nagging Roland for some time to get fireworks whenever we pass firework stands or displays.  

 

Somewhere along the way (and I’m not really certain when) I outgrew the thrill of fireworks.  I get headaches from the smoke.  I have a hard time breathing when I am outside.  I’m no longer a night owl and thus not very fun parent.  But we try.  Jenna often feels bummed as she often feels like an only child.

I texted her brothers to see if any would like to assist with the fireworks.  Two of them answered.  Randy and Carrie came to the house and all lit all of the fireworks.  And while they were doing that, Tony called to see if Roland could bring Jenna out to where he’s staying.  Randy offered to drive her, and she will stay the night.

Thank you Randy and Tony for assisting in the memory-making department.  Happy Independence Day!

 

Flawed Features and Pink Explosion

                  When I was very young (like in first and second grade) my cousins lived not far from Highland High School and Sugarhouse Park.  Aunt Fern and mom would often take us to Sugarhouse Park as it was so near by.  Problem was that the trees were not mature (as they were not much larger than us kids) and thus the park did not provide much (if any) in the way of shade. 

         Sugar House seemed to be an older area overall, but it seemed the park was fairly new.  I vaguely remember a playground.  My cousins and I must have spent time rolling down the hill – although I haven’t run across any photos of us at that particular park. 

         I wonder if the main objective for our moms was to take us to the park was to wear us down.  I wonder if it backfired as I am guessing that we must have worn our mothers out.  We must have run them ragged as they tried to keep an eye on us  or just keep up.  I wish I had more details about just what we did.

         Neither my cousins nor my brother made fun of my feet, but I was teased by other kids from school because of my “pigeon toes” .  Mom had taken me to the doctor and had been told that my knee bones turned in one way and either my pelvic bone or ankle bone turned another.  He could correct one or the other, but the only way he could correct both was to break my bones and reset them.  The procedure would have been a rather expensive one and I would have to learn to walk all over again.  Needless to say, I still have the same bone structure and problems.

         To help me to be less pigeon toed, mom took me to stride rite for corrective shoes.  I HATED having only three pairs to choose from.  All saddle shoes – which reminded me of bowling shoes.  I wasn’t happy with having to wear what I considered very dorky looking shoes.  On top of the dorky saddle shoes, I had to have inserts called “cookies” which would lift my foot at one side in order to straighten the problem.

         When my sister Kayla started walking, mom expressed her concern with her pigeon toes and explained my condition.  Kayla’s doctor prescribed a brace that attached to the shoes.  She would have to sleep with it during the night.  I always felt bad for her, but realized it would be better to deal with it as a baby (who’s not even going to remember)  rather than have to deal with the hurtful peer pressure at school. 

         When Jenna started walking, I noticed that her right foot turned.  I mentioned it to her doctor but her doctor dismissed it believing it was something she ‘d outgrow.  I then related my concerns that I had experienced myself and the solution we had used on Kayla.  I don’t know why I didn’t bother searching for a second opinion – probably my financial situation – or lack of it rather. 

         I guess after a while I had stopped noticing.  I had forgotten that she had once walked with her right foot turned in until just the other day.  She was wearing flip flops and though her right flip flop appeared to be moving straight ahead, her right foot hung over the left side.  I believe she has tripped over her own foot as I probably had in my youth.

         Jenna was told by her dentist that she had perfect teeth.  I don’t think I ever received the same compliment when I was her age.  I had an overbite among other problems.

I look through old photos, I have never seen a perfect mouth.  I don’t know how old I was when I had my accident on the monkey bars or exactly how it happened.  Must have let go or something.  My mouth came down hard over one of the bars.  I chipped my two front teeth.  My right tooth was chipped more noticeably than my left.  I was embarrassed by it and would smile with my mouth closed so as not to reveal my ugliness.

         My grandma Helen offered to pay for braces for my mouth.  Almost three years of humiliating pain.  Every time I would finally develop a toleration to having each tooth surrounded by medal , I would have to return to the orthodontist to have the braces tightened.

         In addition to the braces I was supposed to wear a dorky headgear – at least at night while I slept.  Oh, yes.  That was fun.

         I don’t know how much time had passed between my braces and capped teeth to porcelin repair.  My mouth does look better than it once did. Thank you mom, dad and grandma!

         When I had school picture taken, mom made me promise I would smile with my lips open – that way if my child ever needed braces I would be able to show him or her the picture to show that braces were not so bad.  Oh, right.  Each picture I had taken may send my child running and screaming.  Then again the braces today don’t seem to be so obvious as what was the only style back then.  Perhaps if Jenna did need braces she would be able to recognize that she would never look as horrible at mom did.

The Fourth Grade Emcees

          Each year in May the dual immersion students will put on a program with songs and dances in featured language.  Last year there were two students from the fourth grade who had hosted the program.  They may have in previous years, but last year was the first year I had noticed them.

Jenna had come home last month to ask me what it means to “M.C.”  I told her M. C. stands for “master of ceremonies” and asked her why she had brought it up.  She said that she (along with another student) had been picked to M.C the dual immersion program performance.

She said she wanted to learn some jokes to tell.  We went to the library and found three or four books that were either too “over the head” or just very lame.  And so she turned to the Internet and found four or five that she thought might work.

She handed me an invitation earlier this week.  The performance for the parents was yesterday.  I wasn’t aware – although she had given me an invitation.  I looked at the back and front but was not aware of the message inside.  And so I missed it.

I walked with her to school today and stayed for the 2^nd program that they had preformed for the rest of the school.  They did a nice job.  I didn’t hear any jokes though.  I don’t know if they told them yesterday or not.

I left after the fourth grade had performed their two numbers.  I took a walk behind the SLCC campus and walked passed for bus stops before approaching the one that would take me to TRAX.  It was a nice walk lined with sidewalk (something that is severely lacking in my own neighborhood)

After I got off the bus and walked towards the train, I noticed several UTA police cars and police patrolling the area.  It was kind of freaky as I was just reading from “In My Hands” about a Polish girl in 1941 leaving Russia and entering German-ruled Poland to take the train to a part that is still Poland and is standing in lines patrolled by guards.  I personally think she should have stayed in Russia, but then it would certainly be a different story. But then I'm not even halfway into it.

I don’t know how many citations were issued.  There were five policemen and I heard one comment that they had cited the same people just five years ago.  Had to have been a different location though.  Fairbourn station wasn’t up at running five years ago.

I have to return to the school to pick up not only Jenna, but also a classmate of hers.  They are going to have a play date.  Do you still call them that when the children are ten years old?  Noreen is in for a treat today.  Her mom usually picks her up in a truck.  But today she’ll be riding the bus with Jenna and me.

I think we may take the same route which I did this morning.  I will ask them how quickly they would like to get back to the house.  I’ll let them make the decision.

Valentine’s Didn’t Happen

Earlier this week, Jenna came home

all excited and

folded an open box into

a closed one,

added a face and

the hearts that she and

her friend had cut out of

colored paper. 

She said there was a contest and

she came up with

the idea of turning her box into

the school mascot.

On Wednesday she was crying when

I picked her up – disappointed

that one class did not

collect all the needed points and

thus they wouldn’t be having

the Valentine’s party she had so

looked forward to. 

On Thursday I said she should take

 her box and prepared Valentines anyway –

just in case.

She threw up in class and so

was taken to the office and

put in the sick room

to wait until somebody arrived.

My phone was in my pocket.

  Unfortunately it had been turned off. 

Roland was on his cell phone

talking to someone. 

Randy was in class. 

Carrie was at work. 

Evidently the staff had gone through

every single number I had provided for

emergency contact – some outdated

I guess. 

I felt bad that they had gone

to all that trouble. 

They said they had tried everyone

 on the list.

Jenna asked,

“Who is Dora?”

“Oh,”

that’s when I realized

the list was outdated. 

“She taught you in primary

a couple of times when

we attended our old ward. 

You used to call her

Dora, the Explorer”

“Oh, yea. 

I sort of remember her. 

Why isn’t Corey on the list?”

“Corey is in Las Vegas. 

I had him and grandma on

the list when you

were in first grade.” 

I had eliminated contacting grandma

for the year that I started

my blog.
 

Jenna had a fever. 

She stayed in bed all day –

except for once in a while after

she would drink something,

she would make her way into

the bathroom to throw up. 

But we brought her fever down in time and

after long her stomach wasn’t hurting anymore either. 

But she still felt dizzy whenever she stood.

I had given her the cards that

arrived in the mail. 

Two of them:

a Valentine from her

activity days leader and

one from our former next door neighbor whom she called

 “grandma”

plus there had been a box of

chocolates that dad brought home.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. 

She didn’t deliver because

she still felt dizzy when she moved.

  We stayed home.

We both took it easy.

Roland used to do Valentines for

the women in my family.

 A box of chocolates, flowers,

 one year we made red doughnuts. 

Another year he purchased heart

 shaped pizzas. 

I think that was the

last year.

This year he purchased candy bars

for all the RS and primary presidency. 

He printed up the note

“All Classy Ladies deserve

chocolate on Valentines Day 

Even if they are a little nuts” 

They have not been delivered, however. 

Perhaps he is just planning on

handing them out at Church tomorrow.

There was a knock at the door

sometime after Jenna had gone to bed. 

Whoever it was had walked away

after leaving a sack of

candy for Jenna. 

This morning I learned that

it was/is from Trume. 

So we did receive Valentines. 

And Jenna created three more.

 They won’t be received until

next week. 

Valentine’s Day is over. 

Jenna feels better. 

Outside is still grey

Mommy, Take My Picture!

She seemed fascinated

with the toilet.  I thought

she’d train early. 

She didn’t.

She took off

after she turned one. 

How cool to

move herself

with her feet, to go

from room to room. 

To explore. 

                                                      She collected balls and rocks.

Whenever we’d go

out walking she would climb

on fire hydrants and

pick up anything

she found in her path. 

She loved roly-polys. 

They resembled small balls. 

She did attempt

to put one in her mouth.

                                            She collected whatever she could carry.

She started preschool

when she was three. 

We’d walk to school. 

She would balance

on the way, walking over walls

as though she was on a tightrope. 

I would entertain her

with imitations of circus music

and emcee her “daring moves”

and I would take her picture

She dawdled

as she explored every yard

between our house and the school. 

                                                    She collected rocks and pinecones.

She loved each season

and enthusiastically greeted

anything that was new. 

The wind,

crunching leaves,

sleds,

snow banks,

blossoms,

snails

 fascinated with

every part of nature. 

                                                    She collected rocks and leaves.

Today she dawdles

much as she did when

she was three.  She explores

whatever God has created. 

She climbs trees and

snow banks and continues

to make snow angels. 

She continues to

balance on walls as she did

when she was three

and asks for me to make the sounds

of the circus as she performs

on her “tightrope” and ask

"Mommy, Will you take my picture?"

                                             She collects Pokémon cards and rocks

She will stand on top of

 rocks and stumps and ask me

to take her picture

lying on balls and

fire hydrants still exploring

as she had when

she was three

                                                        She now gives her rocks faces.