My Teachers: Mrs. Edwards

This past week at work I needed to charter a bus for a tour some of our employees are conducting through a town outside of Pittsburgh for a comp plan they are working on. This led to a whole discussion on what to properly call different size buses…which then led to an exchange of our memories of riding school buses. By far, one of my more memorable daily school bus rides was the first half of third grade in Lewisburg, Tennessee. The previous year, the new elementary school had been built on the other side and up the hill from the back field of our house. It would have been a very easy walk up the mown trail to school each day, but I was honestly too scared to do it. And since the bus would pick me up, drive the quarter mile around the corner, and drop me off…well, who needed to walk? But as I was the last one to get picked up, but the first to be dropped off, my selection of seats was limited. So I would squeeze into the one free: right next to two middle school best friends. They reminded me of the villains in 101 Dalmatians: one was short and stout and the other tall and skinny. Both gave me the evil eye the whole two minutes I squeezed beside them. Talk about a miserable start to your day!

 

But third grade itself wasn’t bad, although it would be my first run in with bullies: namely a 4^thgrader who thought I was fun to pick on the few times I would run into her. I could say she was racist, but it’s not politically correct to say racism goes both ways. And I can’t say she hated me because I was white…it was probably more likely because I would cower. I don’t know why, except she was bigger and I have a mortal fear of being noticed. So, to be singled out even to be scoffed at…well, I wasn’t a fan. I just wanted to be left alone! Thankfully our run-ins can be counted on one hand. And while it left it’s mark on my memory, I certainly never valued myself through her eyes. For school, as a whole, was a good experience.

 

Again, Mrs. Edwards had gone to school with my parents or something. She certainly knew who I was, who my parents were, and who my grandmother was. Even more disconcerting, so did the new principal of the school. At that time, it never occurred to me that the principal of Marshall County had also known exactly who I was. Probably because she never singled me out, but I clearly remember this principal singling me out when he happened to be in the hall the same time as our class. It was nothing new to be “Mrs. Ogilvie’s granddaughter”, but it was new that the principal brought that to the attention of everyone within hearing range. So much for being unnoticed!

 

Third grade was a novelty and I’m not sure if that was because of Mrs. Edwards or because it was a new school and we were now “older”. We had lockers in our classrooms instead of a cloakroom. They were half lockers and I worried my entire four months there how I was to get my new winter coat to fit in it. I was very proud of that pink store-bought coat with a teal scarf, but it went down to my knees and I was convinced it would not fit in my locker. Since it was Tennessee, though, and we moved just after Christmas it never got cold enough to test my theory. 

 

We also didn’t have a bathroom in the classroom. They were down the hall. I had another fear I’d get in trouble for taking too long in the bathroom. Other kids did. Of course, they were goofing off while I was going as fast as I could lest I get scolded! We didn’t have as many fun school supplies, we switched classes twice (well, I only switched for reading and just across the hall as Mrs. Edwards was my math teacher as well as “homeroom” teacher). Another fear: getting lost going to my other class. Like you can get lost when you never even left the third-grade hallway! 

 

Mrs. Edwards also had higher expectations of homework, turning things in on time, and doing our work neatly. I don’t know if this was just her teaching style or the marker set for third grade. I just remember I would use most of my spare time in class getting ahead on my homework. For I had yet another fear of not turning it in on time and getting my name put on the board. I remember a couple of my friends thinking I was crazy to be doing my math homework instead of some fun art project. “Missa, you can do it at home!” I remember Katie Lovett telling me. Instead, I did it in school and would finish everything so early Mrs. Edwards would set me to grading things or helping her with a bulletin board. I think some kids took that as favoritism. It was probably more keeping me busy, and I liked doing those kinds of things so it drove me even more to finish my homework in school. 

 

Looking back, with all my fears I should have probably had therapy in third grade! At the same time, starting my third grade year in a new school with lots of new experiences prepared me for the school I would attend when we moved from Tennessee to New Hampshire the day after Christmas. While there was a lot of new experiences, I had the same old friends and familiar out of school activities. After Christmas break, all that would change!

 

Me in 3^rdgrade: classic 80’s side ponytail and baggy sweater with weird geometric shapes in wild colors!

Dear Ellyson,

 

Today you are two years old. I have survived to see this day: although much more exhausted than I thought possible!

 

For you are the one that keeps me on my toes! You are constantly going, constantly into something, constantly challenging me in a way neither Emry or Ethan ever did. I know some of it is you see your older siblings doing something so you think, “Well, I can do that, too,” even if you are half their size. In some ways that can be good: I’m a strong supporter of being independent. In other ways, it’s just one more thing for me to keep an eye on!

 

You are also a walking disaster area. On any given day, I can wander through our house and see trails of this toy, that toy, or whatever you managed to get a hold of spread across several rooms. Nothing is off limits as far as you’re concerned. If you can reach it, it’s fair game. I dream of the day when I will have a house where I can put things out of your reach…and then remember by the time that day is likely to come you won’t be getting into those things anymore! Sigh.

 

You have a quirky personality. I guess we all do. But I love to see you line things up or stack your blocks very neatly. You like to put things like that in order. However, if I ask you to clean up the Monopoly pieces you just scattered all over Ethan’s room, you huff, shake your head, mumble something, and try to walk away. I don’t get how someone who likes to line up rocks by the creek hates to clean up a mess! 

 

Your favorite toys are your baby dolls. You have your own…and you have the one you more-or-less stole from Emry. You like to cuddle them, coo over them and take care of them. You also like to “cook” and be housewife-ly with the few play kitchen stuff we have. Your maternal, like small animals (especially “lattles” as you call cats for some unknown reason), and if someone gets hurt, you are there to give them a hug.

 

You have your own vocabulary. Mostly, “Where it go?” and then a very enthusiastic, “There it is!” Also a very firm, “Yes!” or a shake of the head for “no”. (As I recently told someone, there is no maybe in your world.) And when you can’t find the right words, you certainly have the right fluctuation of tone as you ramble off meaningless words. Sometimes that’s an attempt to count your fingers. Most often it’s wagging your finger and yelling at Ethan because he’s arguing with Emry. You are always very quick to defend what you perceive as injustice.

 

You also love music and watching Cocomelonon my phone. Maybe it’s not the wisest of parenting choices to allow you to watch this whenever I really need you out from under my feet, but often the songs remind me of my own grandmother singling them. And you have learned a lot from them. I love watching you do the motions of The Wheels on the Bus, or Make a Funny Face,or blowing down the house with the Big Bad Wolf.

 

Of course you are very different from your brother and sister before you, especially your sister. You’re affectionate, you’re not afraid to show exactly what you’re feeling, and you simply are who you are. Some of this, sadly, you will grow out of. However, I think you will always be more that way than I am. And I’m glad. For as tired as I am by the end of a day with you, you are exactly what God created you to be. And I hope you always know that.

 

Love, Mama

The Zoo!

Aside from the small community zoo in town (which is really nice), it’s been a while since we’ve been to the zoo. Like, four years. So long that it dawned on me recently when we were talking about giraffes that Ethan had been so little he couldn’t remember ever seeing a giraffe. Which meant we were log overdue for a trip to the zoo.

 

My mom must have been reading my mind for it wasn’t long after that she texted that she and dad had bought a “Grandparent Membership” for the Indianapolis Zoo for the year.  So, this past weekend off we went!

 

You would have thought we were going to California just to go to the zoo all the sighs from Emry about how long it took to get there. We rarely go very far from home, so long car trips are a huge adjustment. Even hour long car trips. I think they found it well worth it, though. For we darted from animal to animal, pausing at the shark and manta ray tank in order to pet them. Then circling around to more animals, pausing again briefly to feed the giraffes. Then off again, this time with a pause for lunch and a fruitless search on the how to get into the butterfly house. (It was closed for expansion we learned when asked, much to Emry’s disappointment.) So, it was back to the sharks and manatees…where we left Ethan, Benito and my parents for the next hour as the boys darted all around that tank trying to touch the animals as often as possible. Ed, the girls and I went off to explore a few animals we hadn’t seen and discovered the dolphins where we sat for quite some time watching them swim around us. 

 

After that, we all met up and headed home, the three in the back playing they were various animals almost all the way home!

Benito and Ellyson looking for the elephant.

 

Ellyson and Ed.

 

Benito, Emry and Ethan…and Ellyson in the back doing her own thing – as usual!

My Teachers: Mrs. Finley

Second grade is the one year I don’t remember quite as clearly as my other years in school. Perhaps because, by then, I was on my third year at Marshall County Elementary so the novelty had certainly worn off. Because that school district split elementary between two schools (Kindergarten through 2^ndat Marshall County and 3^rdthrough 5^thnow at the new West Hills up behind our house), 2^ndgrade was considered “upper classman”. Aka: we were the oldest kids at the school. That, of course, meant we were also the coolest and best. 

 

My second grade teacher was Mrs. Finley. She was a family friend, although I don’t know how. I just know my parents knew her, my grandmother knew her, and even decades later when my grandmother died and she dropped a pie by the house she told my mom to tell me “hi”. She didn’t mind that my sister Katey (age 5 but not yet in Kindergarten) joined me in class if my mom was volunteering at the school. And I remember Katey and I helping her clean the classroom at the end of the year and then going to Horton Park for a picnic and swimming afterwards. Not something we did with any of our other teachers no matter how well they knew my family.

 

I will say Mrs. Finley was very different from Mrs. Steely. That isn’t to say she didn’t keep her students in order just as Mrs. Steely did, but she had a different way of doing it. She didn’t seem as strict, but I can remember her using the paddle at least once on the same boy who had required it of Mrs. Steely several times. She just had a easier-to-approach personality.

 

I do not recall anything I particularly learned in second grade that I have taken with me my whole life. Thinking back, the one thing I remember clearly is learning about the weather and clouds. In the days before the internet and smart phones, we did what people had done for centuries: opened the outside door in our classroom and looked up at the sky. One of us got to do this every day for our chart while we were learning about the weather and clouds, proudly reporting what just about everyone in the classroom could see out the window. After that, we did it one day every other week or so. Probably just often enough that we all got a turn to be the class “weatherman”. As fun as that was, I’m pretty sure not one of us grew up to become a meteorologist.

 

The only other thing I remember markedly clearly about second grade is accidentally popping open a small bag of Doritos in one of the aisles, the wrong end popping open and my chips scattering far and wide all over the classroom which meant every eyeball there was on me. I was so mortified I will not pop open a bag of anything to this day. In fact, I won’t let my kids do it either. I don’t want the same thing to happen to them…apparently, it could potentially scar them for life.

 

Me: second grade. I loved this dress!

Sports

It’s that time in our life: our kids are playing sports. Certainly not as many sports as some families I know. Nor do we devote half our lives to them, but as I do want my kids to have the opportunity to try different things, we are involved in sports. More and more, it seems.

 

Emry started taking dance the summer after she turned 4. The last two years she has been on the junior dance team (B-boppers) which is about all the commitment we can currently handle. Although I am very pleased with the program and how well she has done. She also enjoys it. 

Emry already for dance competition!

 

Ethan, now five, is very happy he is big enough to play t-ball. Although he has been somewhat disappointed that he must hit from a tee instead of being pitched to. We’ve been worried that the whole game will be a bit slow for him and in some ways I think it is. That and his inherited OCD seems to rise to the surface when he can’t go out and be Babe Ruth right off the bat. Still, he’s mostly enjoyed it:

Ethan at bat.

 

In a few short weeks, both Emry and Ethan will start tennis. I’m very excited about this one, for I really do love that sport. Their racquets arrived yesterday so we immediately hit the courts…and then went back today! It’s been a long time since I had a racquet in my hand, but my skills returned if a bit rusty. As did my love for the game. Emry also loves it. As does Ethan…when he’s not disappointed that he’s not Roger Federer.

 Our first tennis lesson!

 

And after that will come swimming lessons! Even Ellyson gets to join in this year. I’m curious as to what she will do. Sit on the side and “pout” because Mama left her with someone else? Or literally throw herself into it…and six inches of water. I guess we’ll see.

 

After that, soccer season strikes again. In the back of my mind I’m thinking of trying to avoid this awful sport by offering them basketball instead (which won’t take place until October at the earliest). Then Emry’s dance will begin again, although she has decided not to try out for dance team this year but take a year off to try hip hop and then tap. Ed would also like to see Ethan try some form of martial arts. And then Ellyson…well, we thankfully have a year or two before she’s ready for anything else. Although she already practices Emry’s dances with her – and does very well!