The Joys of Moving

So I last complained about moving . . . again. But now that I've packed everything I can until the night before, I found many, many joys in knowing that I really am just passing through here.

1. I know I am not responsible for the funky smell in the kitchen.
2. I do not have to feel guilty about the amazing growth of weeds out front.
3. Since I've been eating take out ever since I packed the dishes, I really don't feel guilty about the dirty dishes either.
4. I am not longer worried about those unorganized bills. Done, and done.
5. I can get those extra shelves I've wanted and let the guys do all the heavy lifting.

See. there's always a silver lining.

And, if you're feeling like your life could use a little more service and maybe a donut or two, we're moving this weekend. We'll start at Autumn's and work up to my place. Come one, come all. Misery loves company.

Moving

I hate moving. And yet, here I go again. Last year at this exact same time, I was packing and moving. Except last May, I was moving my junk across my parking lot and reusing Rubbermaid containers. In 14 days I am moving from Holladay to Taylorsville. I am moving in with my cousin Autumn. And the important thing here is that I can't do a casual move like last year. I have to actually pack boxes. With lids. I can't just carry them to my new place, dump their contents, and then go back and fill up again. So I have been collecting xerox boxes at work. The five I got now hold half of my books. I packed my shoes in an empty Rubbermaid container. My belts and gloves and scarves and hats are in my luggage, and my bills and crafts were straightened up and repacked. I now have about 14 packed boxes, not counting the ones in the storage closet outside. I have taken down all my pictures and stuff in the living room. I am ready to pack the dishes and DVDs as soon as I get them all back.

I am no where near ready.

While I was getting stuff from the living room, I noticed that my roommate Kendra just got a new photo frame. Kendra is fond of the signs with sayings like "Stand for Something." They are all over our house. I don't hate them, but I like to joke about them. This new frame says "It's not where you go or what you do, It's who is beside you that counts." The frame doesn't have a photo yet, so my other roommate, Jessica, found one of herself, and set it in the inset of the frame where a photo would go. Not only did it break up the boredom of packing, I laughed really hard.

Now it looks something like this (I can't find my camera. Besides the batteries are dead. This will have to do):

It's not where you go

or what you do

It's who is beside you

that counts.

That's awesome.

I am going to miss these guys.

Appreciation

This week is Teacher Appreciation Week. If you think that's a bit much, the NEA got specific and said that Tuesday is National Teacher Appreciation Day. The voted on it and everything. Waaaaaaaaaaaay back in 1985. So the Tuesday of the first full week of every May, tell a teacher how great they are. Every other day of the year, feel free to show us as much disrespect as you want. Isn't that why we have a Mother's and a Father's Day?

In fact, that's why my mom hates Mother's Day. She thinks every day we should be treating her like we do on Mother's Day. And on Mother's Day, she only asks for a cherry red 2009 Mustang convertible. If wishes were Mustangs . . .

Anyway, back to my appreciation . . . Someone hand wrote a bunch of signs for the halls. Most of them just say "Driggs Teachers are Great! Appreciate!" But my favorite, I like to think they started at 1:00 in the morning and got a little crazy with. I would have taken a picture of it but my camera's batteries are dead. It says something like this:

"We appreciate our teachers, secretaries, principal, aides, custodians, and lunch lady."

I think the word they were looking for is "staff."

Get out there and show how much you love your teachers, old or new. Believe me, with 22 school days left, we need can use all the encouragement we can get right now.

Spiritual Stories

Recently, in General Conference, we were all reminded about the importance of Sacrament Meeting, and that if you are not getting anything out of it, it's your fault.

And then my roommate Jessica came home with story and I had the completely WRONG reaction. But, to rationalize, so did Jessica.

Jessica was in Sacrament Meeting with her family at a cousin's homecoming. Her aunt related this story in very dramatic terms with tears. If you've heard and loved it apologize.

A six year old boy was throwing brick after brick into the road, barely missing cars. One of the bricks finally hit a car and the driver got out and started yelling at the boy. "Why are you throwing those bricks?! Look at this dent?! Who is going to pay for this?! Where are your parents?!" The boy, with tears running down his face said "Sir, I was trying to get some one's attention. My brother is in a wheelchair and he has fallen out. I need your help." The man, feeling very humbled about jumping to conclusions, helped out the grateful children. He kept the dent in his car to remind him never to jump to conclusions again.

Okay. I know what I should think. Here's what I thought . . .
"What the heck is the kid doing taking his wheelchair bound brother to a place with lose bricks lying around?! One assumes this is a construction (or destruction) site. Not the safest place."

Jessica's dad thought "How could a six year old through bricks that far into the road?"

Jessica had the best and most logical thought:
"Wasn't there a pine cone around to throw?"

I guess I know what I need to work in Sacrament Meeting.

Graduation

My brother in law graduated from the Marriott school of business today. He is now an MBA. Which is great. But the actual commencement was a little depressing.

I went directly from my class of fourth graders to the Marriott Center filled with people far more educated than me. In other words, within an hour and a half, I went from being the smartest person in the room to, well, not. That's an intimidating feeling.

But I started playing with Sam, my three year old nephew, and I began to feel a little more in my element. Then the commencement speaker got up.

Everyone knows that commencement addresses are supposed to be ignored. They aren't really meant for the audience. So while the graduates are (pretending) to listen and be inspired, their families take a nap. It's a time honored tradition.

Only one thing could make these speeches more boring.

PowerPoint.

That's right. This speaker used PowerPoint. Guaranteed to put more people to sleep than Ambien.

Next time, I'll mail the card.

Congratulations Rob! That's more work than I ever want to do!

Sleepover

I am trying to be more diligent about blogging, because I know I hate it when everyone else forgets to keep their blogs up to date . . . Erin.

So my new goal, added to my burgeoning list (lose weight, exercise daily, scripture study . . . ), is to write at least once a week. My problem, like Autumn, is that I like to astonish. Or at least make people laugh. Unfortunately, my days are pretty mundane. Wake up, get ready, go to school, teach future leaders (or not) of the world, come home, correct papers, go to sleep. Riveting.

The last few days have been my spring break. If you're wondering why I'm not jumping and shouting, it's because this year has been a bit of a let down compared to last year's spring break. As breaks go, it's been fun, but last year, I went on a cruise to the Bahamas. This year I went to have my car's emissions done, some blood labs done, and I had Holly and Sam for a sleepover Friday night.

While both a cruise and a sleepover can be placed in the "fun" category of life, I think you will agree that a cruise is a little different than a sleepover.

We had a very rowdy time. We stayed up until midnight . . . not on purpose. We watched "Bolt" twice and "Enchanted" almost twice. I don't have kid food here so we went to McDonald's for dinner and we had boxed fruit drinks and M&Ms while we watched the movie. Remarkably, no accidents occurred.

Sam fell asleep around 9:00 in my bed. Holly was the night owl. While they were both excited about sleeping in their own sleeping bags, everyone eventually ended up in my bed to watch the movie. They both got to sleep in my bed. I got the floor. Around 4:00 Holly wanted to sleep in her sleeping bag, so I got my bed for an hour, and then I got up and showered. Which was smart because they were up and at 'em by 7:00 and I wouldn't have been able to shower until 1:00. I can hear all you moms saying you do that everyday. We had dry Lucky Charms and more juice for breakfast. Then we played on the computer and woke my roommates up. (sorry guys!) We played with our Happy Meal toys and watched Saturday cartoons until Erin came. By then they were grouchy because someone didn't get them to bed on time.

What did I learn from all of this? The floor is hard, but if you're tired enough you can sleep anywhere. Holly can talk to a brick wall. Sam talks in his sleep, just like his mom. Holly is smart . . . like scary smart . . . "This juice is better, see it is 100% juice" . . . What the heck?! It really doesn't matter how late I keep them up or what I feed them when I send them home the next day.

And sleepovers are just a different kind of fun than a cruise. Less sun and snorkeling but a whole lot more giggling.

Pictures

I have pictures. Some are cute and some are just of my new hair cut which apparently is very important to see. (Settle down Sharlon.)

These first pictures are of Max, who is smiling and turned 3 months old yesterday. Erin took them and I think she did a great job.

You can tell he is a Wells. He looks just like Holly did, but he has Sammy's incredible blue eyes. What a cutie!

I have been learning new things this week. I have learned how to use a blow dryer and a round brush . . . at the same time. And I figured out how to use the timer on my camera, so I could get some pictures taken fast and post them. It is amazing how one haircut can change your life.

You may ask why I am tipping my head . . . I don't know. I really wasn't trying to be cute. Maybe I was trying to hide the open bathroom door in the back. It's more likely I am not used to bangs and I am flipping them out of the way.

I took a dozen or so pictures and these are the best of my hair cut, not of me. I took them at 5:30 in the morning, and I am not wearing makeup. I look, well, my age.

To answer your questions: No I didn't color my hair. This is my natural color. I cut out all the highlights from chemicals and the sun.

Yes, I donated to "Locks of Love."

No, I didn't cry. You should have seen how gross and damaged the cut hair was. I was glad to see it go.

Yes, I love it. It actually moves, and I no longer have headaches or neck aches from the weight of my hair.

Can you tell this has been a big deal all week? I forget that you should never do anything drastic to yourself when your teaching. The kids can't concentrate for days. The thing is, I didn't think it was that huge. I've had bigger changes. But even the teachers were a little freaked. On our field trip to Ballet West Monday, they sent people looking for me because they couldn't find me. I was standing right next to them, but they didn't recognize me. (Actually, I thought that was funny.)

So, not an exciting post, but at least the pictures of Max are cute.