I Can’t Believe You’d Put Me in Band!

       Being in Oregon still feels so surreal to me – like at any given moment I will wake up and be in that cracker box house in West Valley.  Take this morning for instance.  It was definitely cooler than any day that we’ve been here since we had come out for spring break.

        I had dropped by the middle school to ask a few more questions.  The front door was open, and there was a light on one of the offices.  I think I heard a vacuum cleaner in the distance. It was before 9:00 am and perhaps was too early and so I decided to return at a later time.

        I drove to the pool which was still closed. I decided to sit on a bench and read until the instructor and lifeguards started filing in, and then walk down to do some water aerobic workouts.  I took a few pictures from my cell phone (as I had left my camera at home by the computer) before I notice the manager and then the instructor.  As I made my way over the hill and around the building, I couldn’t help thinking how none of this had existed for me just a month ago.  I wasn’t even aware of the existence of this part of the world.

        My aerobics start at 9:00 and go for an hour.  Jenna has swim lessons that start at 10:30. I allowed her to stay home while I was in the water and then returned home for her.  We had twenty minutes of waiting time and stopped at the school to ask the questions and I was also given the forms that I’ll need for registration. 

        After her swim class, we went to the music building which sits between the elementary and the middle school.  We introduced ourselves and I told the instructor that I was interested in putting Jenna in band.  He assigned her the clarinet and she had a four-minute instruction on how to put the instrument together and take it apart and gave her a first ten minute lesson on how to play each note.  He gave us a book and the clarinet and instructed us to return to the school to pay a rental fee. 

        Students are encouraged to practice the instruments during the summer so that they will be somewhat familiar once school starts.  I had been interested in starting Jenna in band when she was in the 5^th grade, but when the leadership program was introduced to elementary school she attended in Salt Lake, it appeared that they had dropped the band program.  Now Jenna has the opportunity – which at this time she is not at all happy about – but she felt that same way about my having put her in the dual immersion program and theatre and those turned out to be pluses and band will, too.

        The school district does not offer a foreign language program until High School, but I am happy to say that Jenna will not lose her ability to communicate in Spanish.  Halla, a student who moved to Myrtle Creek from Mexico, speaks no English and so the school plans to assign Jenna as Halla’s buddy.  I AM SO EXCITED!!!!

        Last night Jenna played with friends for the first time since we’ve moved here.  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints offers a program to girls ages 8-12 which is supposedly similar to what the boys get with scouts.  The program is called achievement days or activity days.  We had taken Jenna to the church last night and she and Casey decided it would be great to continue playing together after the activity was over.  We brought Casey home with us.  Jenna was sooooo excited to have a play date with somebody – finally.

        I think we had only been home just 30 minutes or so when Casey’s younger sister, Carly knocked at our door.  She had with her Casey’s friend, Callie.  So Jenna, Carly, Casey and Callie played together and Jenna was in her glory.  It’s the happiest I have seen her in a long time, actually. She was hoping her play date would never end.  Of course it did end.  The skies grew darker and Roland’s eyes became heavier and he suggested sending the girls home.  I told Jenna she could walk down the street with them and then return.  I went out to the street to watch her – but it was so dark outside I really couldn’t see them.

        I heard my neighbor across the street and yelled out to her, “Hi, Judy.”

        When she seemed to respond, I had to cross the street to ask her to repeat whatever she had said as I couldn’t hear her.

        I saw Jenna return to the house – along with the three girls she had walked down the street with.

        “You girls cannot walk each other back and forth to each other’s houses all night!” I yelled. 

        Judy started laughing.

        “Casey’s mom wants to talk to you.  She’s right behind us.”

        The girls started playing games on the front lawn before Callie and Casey’s moms walked across the street to join Judy and me.  We must have all been visiting for 20- 30 minutes before Josie and Tara collected their girls and each went in a different direction.  Jenna was beaming and excitedly asked me, “Can I tell you what we did?” and started in with every detail beginning with activity days. It was quite amusing to hear her trip over the names of the other three as she explained the details of “duck, duck goose” and “mother may I”.  I am so happy to see that sparkle back in her eyes!

        This afternoon I took Casey and Jenna to the library for an activity.  We met the mayor – who, as it turns out, is my neighbor from just up the street (next door to Judy) and there was a programs and gifts and prizes and Jenna received a free t-shirt from a drawing. 

        I had planned on creating this post while Jenna and Casey played together, but Jenna asked if I would play a board game with them – which I suppose was necessary as Casey wasn’t quite getting the joy of playing it.  After a while, Callie came over and the three girls played together.  Now Jenna is at an outdoor concert which I could have attended as well, but chose to write this post instead. 

        I did feel a few drops fall down from the sky.  Not a heavy rainfall.  It looks like it could rain however.  It really has been a great experience being here. 

When It Was Ricks College

I attended Ricks College for one year.  Rexburg was over 200 miles away from my home and so I lived in the dorms near the campus. Believe it or not, I really did have three roommates with the same or similar names – though each spelled differently.  Christy Ann Howardson, Christie Lee Hill and Kristaleigh Phelps.  The girls who lived in the same dorm as we did would see me coming and would say, “Hi Christi-“ in which I would respond, “No, I’m the other one” thus earning my new nickname, “the other one”

We couldn’t refer to the Christie(y)s with just the last initial because they both started with the same letter.  And although Christie was willing to go by Christie Lee it was just too confusing for Kristaleigh.  And Christy refused to go by Christy Ann.  So sometimes I called her Howard – or Howardine – just to get a rile out of her. It was actually kind of fun.

As roommates go, we all had our peculiarities, our strengths and our weaknesses, etc.  Christie was a take charge kind of gal.  We called her mom.  She liked to bake.  And she baked well.  She once made an oatmeal cake in two round pans.  Never had an opportunity to put it together and frost it as one.  Christy ate one pan and I ate the other.  And I think Christie was okay with it. She loved to cook and bake but didn’t necessarily want to eat everything she made.

Most of the dishes in the kitchen were hers.  She had brought along these puny juice glasses which I always referred to as “Barbie doll” glasses.  I had asked her why she had brought so many “Barbie doll” glasses instead of something large enough to actually quench one’s thirst.  She said matter-of-factly, “Because I was hoping that I would get a roommate who would give them a nickname.”

Christy, who was one of the most gullible people on this planet, believed her.

Christy was a farm girl from a city in Idaho that nobody had ever even heard of.  She always had to explain that it was near Blackfoot – which more than half of the college attenders had never heard of either.  She was the role model of all blonde jokes.  Sometimes I felt like I was talking to someone from a foreign planet who had obviously never experienced earth life before.

Boys seemed magnetized to Christy.  Can’t say that I would have been interested in any of them.  Not that they’d ever give me a second look. Seriously.  They all needed ego boosters. And not all of them had good intentions.  And Christy was quite naïve.

Kristaleigh and I were the theatrical pair.  She actually majored in theatre – whereas I was just a ham.  I once practiced lines with her as she had an audition coming up.  She asked me to pair up with her for her audition.  She picked out my clothes so that I would look the part.  I told the instructor that I was not trying out for the part but had come to assist.  I wasn’t interested in the play itself nor was I interested in devoting my free time with practice.

After we had auditioned, he looked at me and said I could still be considered.  I told him no, thank you.  I’m so glad that I did.  For, according to Kristaleigh, everyone who had auditioned had been given a part – except for her.  I think she tried too hard and her acting was just that.  It never looked natural. I would have felt awful going to auditions that she wasn’t directly a part of. She worked it out so that she could be prop manager.

The dorm put out a newsletter once a month (I’m guessing) and Christie was one of the editors and had asked Christy and I to write pieces on occasion.  I actually didn’t remember having that newsfeed but had come across it when weeding through the scrapbooks that I could no longer save (see this post)

I had scanned the following:

Actually, Location Does Matter – but not Always an Option

I went out to see my mom at the assisted living yesterday.  The last two times I have gone, I’ve taken her out to see Aunt Trudy – who is currently in rehab and in a facility with a name similar to the place where mom is staying, but such radical difference in the two places.

Granted, the facility my aunt is in is not the last place that she will ever call home. It is a rehab center.  But it reminds me of some of the assisted living facilities that Corey and I had looked into but could not afford. I don't know how this rehab bill is going to affect Aunt Trudy – for I know that it will be more pricy than the bills Corey gets for mom.

The center where mom is currently seems understaffed.  And each of the staff members assists with the seating and the feeding and the meds and forms of entertainment.  They start setting up and bringing residents to the table starting at 11:00.  They don’t eat until 12:00.  There is one cook.

At the center where my aunt is (or even Sunrise – the place we would have put mom if money was no option) has staff teams.  I don’t know how many people were in the kitchen.  But there were three people at the table where my aunt had been seated (really fine dining atmosphere by the way – like some posh club or something) and there were three people that served them.  So each resident gets his/her own waiter?

I was asked if I wanted soup.  I was hungry but had brought my own lunch so as not to saddle my aunt’s bill with an extra expense.  I was told there was no charge for the soup.  It was really good soup!  I think they could have charged $5.00 a bowl, it was that delicious.

The residents (temp residents or patients, clients?  What would you call them) have a choice of menu items.  I don’t know how many people are in the kitchen.  I imagine the kitchen is bigger than the entire house where I currently reside (and that is NOT an exaggeration)

The food at mom’s facility? It is okay. Not that I’ve had a lot of it.  Usually there is no place to sit.  They don’t get to choose from menu items.  Eat what is served to them or don’t eat at all.

Aunt Trudy’s bed looks like it is just a single – but her room is huge!  Her bathroom is huge (but it has to facilitate a wheelchair and at least one nurse) I don’t know how often each staff member stops by.  But it’s routine clock work – I don’t guess there’s a single hour when somebody isn’t looking in on her.

Mom’s place – well . . . they have a schedule.  It gets altered a lot.  Things don’t always happen on time.  Sometimes personal items get misplaced (bras in the laundry – all with worn out tags) and sometimes overlooked.

I’m not blaming anyone.  You get what you pay for.  But there’s a lot of love and concern that goes into my mom’s place because they’re so small.  They know not just their residence, but all the family members who come to visit.  I see some smiles and genuine positive emotion with some of those who have worked with my aunt (or at least there in the facility) but I have seen just as many who are “just doing their job” who are there to get a paycheck and be polite – but their priorities don’t always seem to be set on those they serve. 

I could be wrong.  I’ve only been there twice.  Each time I’ve been overwhelmed by the “luxury”.  At mom’s I am underwhelmed for the most part.  Though I do appreciate the devotion of the staff.

  

I had a friend who had done rehab in an assisted living facility or nursing home, rather.  It seemed overcrowded and understaffed and reminded me of a veteran’s ward, actually. I knew of two real people that had been sent there to live for the remainder of their lives – one of whom is younger than I.  She had Huntington’s disease.  And her mom was not in a position to take care of her full time.  Same facility.

But my friend was in good spirits.  It’s certainly not the place she would have chosen for herself, but it was an option through the insurance company – and unlike many that were there, she would be returning to live with her family and would not be there until she died.

Sometimes we find that we just have to settle due to our own lack of control. Because we haven’t been blessed with financial wealth.  Because the economy robbed us of our house and were forced to move to a less expensive area.  Because the government is dipping into your paycheck because they say you owe money even though you were on welfare the last two and a half years.  Because the income you depend on has the name of your deceased spouse on it, it is automatically given to medical and you have no say in it whatsoever.

I love the school Jenna goes to currently.  I have to drive her two miles south each morning and then drive back to pick her up.  She rode the bus in her last four months of kindergarten.  We had moved to a different school boundary – one that caters to those who come from homes with a language barrier or those that are learning challenged or slow.  Jenna wasn’t happy there.  Neither one of us were.

It is such a different situation – entirely – when comparing the two schools.  Teachers at the former school kept everything under lock and key – even while in the classroom.  At her current school, teachers seem to trust students.  They close the doors and turn off the lights and that’s usually good enough for a student not to go in – or if he does, it’s to go through his own desk – never the teachers.

Jenna’s in a portable classroom this year.  I have had to use a pass to return to the main building.  The students at her current school are so polite.  They open doors for adults and stand there until the adult has passed through.  I don’t think that would even cross the minds of those in the other school that she went to.

At the former school, instruction seminars were held for the parents once a month – they would have the opportunity for learning proper hygiene, basic nutrition, things I had learned in junior high.  All of the seminars were done in Spanish and the school would supply English translators for those of us who didn’t speak Spanish (I’d gone to a seminar to meet other parents; I felt like a fish out of water) but the opportunity to mingle felt so limited.  I only went to twice.

At Jenna’s current school, there are very few that don’t speak English.  And there are several bilingual parents, teachers and students that no one should feel out of place.  There probably are a few parents who could use the basics, but no seminars are offered or morning mingles (which I learned was just a name – I did try to associate – but it just didn’t take.  But it helped me understand why Jenna was having such a hard time as she couldn’t seem to communicate either)

I loved the friendly faculty of the former school and didn’t feel threatened by anybody – but there was definitely a different atmosphere from the school Jenna attends today. 

Location.  The former is a boundary thing.  The one today.  Ironically she’s learning Spanish in the dual immersion.  But she has friends there.  She tried but made only one friend at the former – and then that friend moved.

It seems like I heard these words in Sunday morning’s session of conference: “It doesn’t matter where you live; whether it’s a nice neighborhood . . ." somehow I let those words set off my emotions.  There was a fuel burning inside of me that made me explode.  We didn’t choose our neighborhood.  We’re here because we had to settle. But perhaps I took the message out of context.  Perhaps it was my own interpretation made set me off.

 We are still struggling just to make ends meet.  The house across the street must be a section 8 and someone else is helping to fill out the required paperwork in order to get state support (I know they have to have assistance – the woman who resides there isn’t smart enough to do it herself) The police have been called I don’t know how many times because of her undisciplined children.  We certainly had absolutely no say as to whether we wanted them for neighbors or not.

Currently the police department in West Valley is being investigated by the FBI.  Should I be concerned?  I know that values start in the home – I know we can help instill learning in Jenna.  She is happy with her family.  But she shouldn’t be afraid to leave the house because of the idiots across the street.  Location does make a difference.  Sure, attitude does also.  But it’s hard having to be the strong one all the time.  It’s hard being one of 25 who volunteer and show up to see the same ones doing it again and again.  I’m worn out. 

I don’t want to have to settle because my husband’s ex wife is a habitual liar and the government won’t cut us a break.  I’m tired of living from paycheck to paycheck.  I’m tired of having needs that aren’t being fulfilled – forget about the desires.

The facility where mom lives seems to struggle just as my family does.  But they are family.  They are bound.  The facility where Aunt Trudy currently resides may have some caring family members – but I think the closeness that brings people together is lost somehow.  Who really has the greener grass?

We have been blessed with transportation.  And yes, we do have shelter for the time being.  Jenna and I have both been blessed with her current education.  And we’ve been so blessed by Church welfare and friends and family.  I guess there are pros and cons to every situation.

Bah, Humbug, Mother Nature

          The air has been of poor quality – particularly for those who have to live with asthma and other breathing challenges so I suppose the snow is a blessing – in more ways than one I suppose.  But three months worth of snow at once? 

          It started snowing just before 3:00 p.m. yesterday.  It paused perhaps at 9:00 or 10:00.  In some parts it never stopped snowing.  I can’t even imagine how deep the snow is in some parts right now – or how much damage it is causing so many right now. 

         

          The libraries closed at three and all workers were sent home.  Roland didn’t get home until almost 6:00.  He gets off at 4:00.  In decent weather his work is less than 20 minutes away.  Usually he is critical about Utah drivers and the snow.  All he said was, “It’s really bad out there.”

          In a way, I was hoping that school would be cancelled this morning – which I’m certain that it was in some parts.  Not our district.  It was said (for those driving) to take our time that they’d accept tardies and absences.  I wonder if that applies to teachers as well.

          Jenna’s first kindergarten teacher has to drive over three hours in this kind of weather – provided she’s able to get out of her snowed in community.  I admire her for being so diligent as she lives so far away.  I bet she drives through at least three other districts before getting to the one I’m in – though the school where she teaches is also twenty minutes from where I live.

          I’m happy with Jenna’s current school.  I normally drop off behind the school – but I knew the lot would be slick – there were still icy patches from the last snow.  I’m sure this morning had to have been worse.

          I didn’t go through the neighborhood to get to the back lot however.  Jenna announced that they could be dropped off in front.  At least it was clear.  And so was the road I had driven on.  But I knew I couldn’t go back that way.  A bus had been hit at the corner. 

I’m thinking maybe the police car had been hit also.  Hard to tell – but there was a car behind the police car – and one plowed into the bus.  Traffic was being derailed through a neighborhood street.  I’d think it very odd if I was to look out my window and see a public bus driving up my street . . . 

It took me longer to return home than it took going to the school.  Traffic for the most part was 10 mph or less – which is fine.  I’d rather have a bunch of overly cautious drivers on the road than just one speeder who ruins the commute with hurriedness.

Jenna, for one, is very excited about the snow.  In her mind, “It’s about time!” for she has missed it terribly. 

She loves to make snow angels and snowballs and build snowman and forts.  She likes to slip and slide and catch snowflakes on her tongue. I’m glad she has that attitude.  I’m glad she likes the snow.

I liked snow when I was much younger.  I still like it on trees, in the mountains, even in the yard.  Just not on my road or sidewalks.  No slush, no ice.  I want perfect driving conditions.  Actually, I wouldn’t mind giving up driving totally.  But I have to commute some way.  Public transportation is not always reliable.  Nor does it always take me exactly where I want to go.

Jenna will be having a hot chocolate party later on today – or perhaps she is having it now.  It’s snowing now and perhaps she got some snow-playing in before the party started (or will start) and for her, that will be a great kick off for a glorious hot cocoa celebration!

I included some photos of my boys in the snow in this post.  Now let me share some of Jenna growing up in the snow.

Online Schooling is Definitely NOT for me

          I have a friend whose husband is a recruiting officer for one of those online schools. He sits at a desk while the automatic dialer spins out call after call of potential students.  If/When one picks up, he introduces himself and states the purpose of his call. 

          I am certain that over 50% of their “potential students” are not potential at all.  They were victims of online job hunting believing that they were filling out an application for the a job that would hopefully tie them over and entered info on those pop-ups designed to retrieve information to so sucker you into going to their schools.

          I know as I have been a victim of this “potential” marketing myself.  I am livid at the method of “solicitation” – if I wanted to go to school, I would search out for the school – I don’t need someone contacting me to try to “sell” me a product that is going to put me further in debt than I already am. Thank you very much!

          Their biggest selling point (that I see) is that it works to the students convenience because he or she can choose his/her own hours and doesn’t have to be on a set schedule as with the campus schools.  They don’t clue you in as how the hours can literally swallow so much of your time.  But perhaps many really don’t know how time consuming it is. 

The recruiters are expected to have so many starts in any given month.  If they don’t make the quota, they are invited to leave.  That’s not really fair – given the circumstances that most of the “students” who are contacted are not interested in being called let alone making a commitment – which a large percentage don’t.

          The online schools don’t have near as much to offer in career choices as campus schools.  There haven’t been any that have appealed to me personally.  I prefer a hands-on – one on one if possible.  I like having a live instructor that can communicate to me without the benefit of a computer. Oh, don’t get me wrong – I value my computer – but not to the point of replacing an education the “old fashion” way.

          After a year or so with the company (I don’t actually know how long) my friend’s husband was entitled to take the online courses for free (provided he work with the online school for the next three years or come up with the finances on his own) for either himself or a family member.

          As he currently has only one child who would qualify – and that child wants to go into medicine (which is not an online program) and my friend isn’t all that thrilled about the programs offered either, her husband has decided to further educate himself – which is all well and good – but it is sooo time consuming.  His greatest sacrifice (in my opinion) has been giving up several hours of sleep.

          I’ve been to her house a few times when her husband has been trying to fulfill assignments.  It appears to be so frustrating. My friend has had to physically remove her children from the environment so that he is able to stay more focused.  But she is never gone long enough.  What is suppose to be “two hours any given four days in the week” turns into eight. 

She says that often he doesn’t get to bed until after 2:00 and then he needs to be up by 6:00.  Perhaps his body has adjusted to needing only four hours per night (uh, morning) but my friend says that he comes home physically and mentally exhausted.  And she is worried about him.

Right now he is an A student. It will be another three years before he “graduates” – and then what?  Will having his degree or certificate or whatever it is help him to land a better job?  Will all those hours he spent at the computer, giving up sleep (not to mention a few family moments) be worth it?

I can receive an education online without getting credit for it.  There is tons of information to learn and so much right at our fingertips (literally) but I have to go at my own pace – which is not a part of the schooling education

For some people, online schooling really is an ideal thing – particularly if they are only working part time and have inherited a good chunk of money – and single – without children – without interruptions . . . perhaps it for some it has its perks.  But it’s not for me personally.  I can actually understand why the drop-out ratio is so high.

I don’t think Jenna would survive Charter School

I had looked into a Charter school while Jenna was still in kindergarten (which I referred to in this post)   She needed to be challenged, and just wasn’t getting that in our assigned public school.  I am still on the waiting list.

          If she had started APA  in the first grade, I don’t think she would have ever questioned it.  She would have loved it in all the ways that I would have not, had it been available to me when I was a youth.  But after two more years of public school?  I think she would totally freak out and hate it even more than the school I was trying to get her away from.

          Jenna is very smart academically.  But organizational skills and prioritizing is not in her nature at this time (something that we will be working on this summer) and I don’t think she will adjust well going from free spirit to uniform and structure.  She tends to misplace things – which is NOT acceptable at APA (from what I understand)

          For example: on May 15^th Jenna brought some papers into me.  They were dated for March.  One was for the talent show that I remember her telling me about – but I didn’t see the form until six weeks after the fact.

          The other was about my scheduled conference with her teachers.  I was wondering where it had been. 

          I would prefer that she was more organized and cared more about her appearance and had more respect for belongings – but such a drastic transition (should the opportunity ever occur) would only discourage her – whereas she would have not even questioned it two years ago.

          And while there are things that I really like about the charter school, there are also things that I don’t like.  I would love to have her do more with music, but in the long run I think there will be more value in having her learn a second language.