A Letter to My Daughter

 Dear Natalie,

Here we are.  On your 18th birthday.  I can't believe how fast it went by.  I remember when you turned nine and I realized I was halfway.  It seems like yesterday.  I know to you it seems like forever.  I promise you the years go faster and faster the older you get.  

Remember how I wrote a letter to you before you were born?  Well today I am writing to you before you begin the adult chapter of your life.  Let me share my heart with you first.

I remember so much about your life.  I remember when I was pregnant with you and would feel you move.  I remember talking to you and singing to you as you did summersaults.  I remember how you kept kicking and punching me the day that you were born.  I remember how nervous I was as I laid there waiting to go into the operating room.  I remember hearing your first cry.  I remember holding you for the first time.  So little. So beautiful.  My throat gets a lump in it just thinking about it now.  

I remember you smiling at me for the first time.  I remember your laugh.  I remember when you started rolling and then crawling around.  I thought those days would never end.  And then one day you started walking and then running.  You would run back and forth through the apartment.  I followed you around all day everyday.  We would watch Sesame Street everyday before your nap time.  I would take you to the spare bedroom, pick out a book, and rock you in the rocking chair and read to you then keep rocking until you fell asleep.  The hour you slept was the only break I had in my day to sit still and not run after you.  And I remember being so anxious for you to wake up again because I just loved being with you.  My heart hurt the first time I had to drop you off at daycare so I could go to college.  I never wanted to leave you.

When you turned three I remember I wanted to buy a Barbie Jeep Powerwheels for you for Christmas.  I wanted you to be able to enjoy it while you were still little enough to.  I"m so glad I did.  That Christmas we spent so much time outside as you drove around in your Jeep with the radio blasting.  

I remember when you were four and your dad and I divorced.  My heart was broken, but it was also broken for you.  I know how much you missed your daddy and I never wanted you to feel that he didn't love you.  I worked hard to make sure you got to see him as much as possible.  I made sure to protect you from any adult issues going on.  I wanted you to be happy.

I remember when we were able to move to Killeen together.  I never intended for us to stay in Texas.  I thought we would live in Killeen for a short time and then move to Indiana.  But God had other plans.  After marrying Erik the time just seems to have gotten away from me.  Every year blended into the next and when I think back on those years I want to cry thinking about how much I lost you.  I wish I had taken more time with you.  I wish my focus hadn't been spread so thin.  

And then suddenly you were a teenager and then you were gone.  I messed up a lot.  I wasn't my best.  You saw the ugly side of me.  

What I really want to say to you on your 18th birthday is that I love you.  I have loved you longer than anyone else on this Earth (except your dad.  We are probably equal on that).  I think you are the most amazing human being that I've ever met.  I want you to know that I would move mountains for you.  I would give up everything for you.  There is nothing I wouldn't do if you needed it.  

As you navigate through this next chapter in your life I want you to remember this.  I will always be there.  Call me ANYTIME.  If I need to hop on a flight to get to you, I will.  I can make it happen within a couple of hours.  Never feel like you can't tell me something.  I will listen to you and try to help in anyway you want me to.  I am so excited to watch where your life takes you.  I'm so excited to see the blessings that are in store for you.

Remember this - God.  He loves you.  He is with you.  When life is at its worst, God is still at His best.  Lean on Him.  

I am so proud of you.  You are beautiful inside and out.  Keep shining your light.  Keep dreaming big dreams.  Keep loving others with that big heart that you have.

All my love to my sweet baby girl - that is no longer a baby - or even a child!  Happy Birthday to my Adult girl - Natalie Linette.

Love, 

Mom

20th Anniversary of September 11

 20 years ago today the world changed forever.

Being that we are already 20 years removed from that day I realize that anyone from the age of 0-30 might not have any memory of that day, little memory of that day, or not have been old enough to fully remember the difference in the world before and after that day.

It is because of this that I decided to write my own personal story of that day and reflections on that day for reasons of historical preservation.  It would be awesome if more people had done that about Pearl Harbor so people like me, born after the fact, would have an understanding of how it affected the common civilian of the time.

In September of 2001 I had been married for about 9 months.  My husband was in the army and was stationed at Menwith Hill in England.  We had lived together in San Angelo during his AIT.  AIT ended over the summer.  I moved home to live with my parents in Lowell, Indiana while he left to go to England.  The only reason that I didn't go with him at the time was because we married after he had already joined the army, so I wasn't on his orders to move.  We were waiting for the army to add me to the orders and pay for me to fly overseas.

On September 11, 2001 I was at my parent's house alone.  Both my parents were at work and my sister was at college in southern Indiana.  I was sound asleep that morning until I heard the phone ring.  This was back before everyone had a cell phone.  I didn't own one.  It was the house phone that rang.  I answered and it was my mother-in-law.  She asked me "Are you awake?"  I told her I had been sleeping.  She said, "I was watching the morning news program and they were talking about a plane hitting the world trade center in New York.  As they were talking about how an accident like that could have happened another plane hit the other tower.  You have to get up and turn on the TV."  I don't remember what I said back.  All I remember is the feeling of terror that we could possibly be under attack.  I was thinking of a war and how my husband might have to go to one.  The thought had never occurred to me before this moment.  I ran into the living room and turned the TV on.  I could not believe what I was seeing.  Then the phone rang again.  This time it was my best friend, Kari on the phone.  She and I watched in horror together as we saw people hang out of the towers on live TV, smoke billowing out from behind them.  We tried to figure out a way that they could be rescued 'will they take a helicopter to the roof or something?  look there is a helicopter hovering around.  maybe...' Then we saw the people jumping.  It was like we were watching a movie but this was real.  This was live TV.  This was happening.  How could it be happening???

Then the news cut to the Pentagon.  They reported another plane hit there.  We screamed.  "Oh my God!  This isn't over!  We are under attack!  Where are they going to hit next?  How many are there?  Will they attack Chicago?  My dad is there.  I have family there.  Oh my God!"  Next thing we know there is another report about a plane down in a field in Pennsylvania.  They are telling us on the news that the plane was also headed to Washington DC.  And then the towers fell.  Now we cried.  Kari and I cried together on the phone as we watched the first tower fall and then the second.  We watched the cloud of debris spread.  We watched people run.  People that were covered in ash and blood running out of the city and crossing the bridges.  We cried and cried.  "Oh my God!  All those people in there.  All those people at the windows.  Could they be alive?  Surely not.  They must be buried if they did survive.  Oh my God!"

That night all I remember was still watching the news.  (I was glued to the TV all day).  By then they were showing footage from different angles because they had gotten footage from different cameras.  They were showing the planes hit over and over.  I remember that they grounded all flights across the country and I remember the terror I felt when I heard planes going over the house.  My parents and I ran outside in the darkness and looked up at the sky.  We saw military fighter jets flying low and fast over our house in the direction of Chicago.  We figured they must be protecting the bigger cities.  

Later when I talked to my husband I learned that he was sent home from work because he was still new and in training.  I learned from him that it might now be a very long while until the military got around to working on a silly little task like getting a spouse on military orders.  There was much bigger things for them to focus on.  And I completely understood that.

Two days after 9/11 was my 21st birthday.  My friend Kari and her fiance Eric insisted on taking me out to have a good time.  We chose a Mexican restaurant and bar to go to first.  I remember walking in and looking around.  This was my first time going to the 'bar area' and I wasn't sure what to expect.  People were sitting in silence over their beers.  The TV was on CNN and they were talking about the attacks.  You could hear a pin drop.  It was a very somber time.  I went to the bar to order my first drink but there wasn't much to celebrate.  It felt wrong to even be happy.  

After a few days I was tired of being without my husband and I knew I wouldn't get to be with him unless I paid my own way.  I had no idea how long it would take the army if I waited.  So I booked a ticket.  I remember paying almost 800 dollars for the round trip ticket.  I paid for round trip because it was cheaper than one way.  I just never used the return flight.  

On October 8, 2001 I arrived at the airport to fly from O'Hare to London Heathrow.  This was my first time in an airport since 9/11.  The first thing I remember is how much security there was.  The lines were long and slow because they were searching everyone and every bag.  And I remember that no one minded or complained. I think every traveler wanted to feel safe.  I boarded the plane.  This was less than one month since the attacks and all I could think about was how the hijackers used planes that were on long distance destinations so they would have a lot of fuel.  I realized I was on a long distance flight and I was leaving out of a major city.  I was extremely nervous.  I prayed a lot.  When I got to my seat I was sitting at the window.  The middle seat was empty and on the aisle was a man from the middle east.  I knew he was because he talked to me with a very heavy accent and he told me he was from Pakistan.  I am sure he was telling me that to ease my nerves but being that 9/11 just happened I was on edge.  I kept thinking he could be part of a hijacking plot and I could die at any moment.  I just kept praying.  Of course, all was fine and I made it into London as the sun was rising there on October 9th.  

If there is one thing that I remember fondly about those three weeks that I spent in the United States after 9/11 it is that everyone came together.  There was no democrat or republican at that time.  No one disagreed about what had happened to us.  We were an attacked America.  We were ONE and everyone acted like we were one.  Flags were flown everywhere.  People attached them to their cars.  Everyone was in agreement that we were going to fight.  We weren't going to back down.  People everywhere enlisted in the services.  Doctors and nurses from across the country flew to New York to help.  It was the first and last time I have ever seen anything like the unity that we had in that moment.  

Since then I have learned a lot about 9/11 that makes me suspicious of the official story.  I do not believe a plane hit the Pentagon.  There is no physical way that a plane hit since the size of a plane vs the size of the impact on the building was so very different. The impact on the building was not wide enough to account for the wing span.  I do not trust the official story about the hijackers on the planes.  I do not believe the towers fell just because a plane hit.  But I don't think we will ever know the true story and maybe we aren't meant to.  I want to focus today, the 20th anniversary of that day, on the unity that we had.  I want to remember the innocent people that died.  I want their families to know that I care and that I think about their loved ones often.  I want them to know that there are people like me that are old enough to remember and that I WILL NEVER FORGET!

(Picture:  around 1996 - Towers in the background)

God is Here

 Tonight I was reading through FaceBook and saw a post asking who had old technology.  One item named was CDs.  Well that got me thinking about my CDs.  I haven't had any in years and I thought to myself that it doesn't really matter because I have Spotify.   Then I remembered one particular CD that I had that might not be on spotify.  So I searched.  Sure enough it wasn't there.  So I thought about YouTube and searched there.  Found it!

The CD?  "God is Here".

To my amazement YouTube has the video of the live recording of the album at Abundant Life Church in Bradford England.  I was there in the fall of 2003 when they made the recording.  I was pregnant with Natalie.  In an instant the memory of that night flooded back.  I remember sitting to the right of the stage.  I remember the feeling of the best worship experience i have ever had corporately.  The musicians were professionals.  The audience was authentic.  The room was alive that night with music.  The beat hit my very soul.  The violins soared.  Tears streamed down my face.  I felt my child, Natalie, dance in the womb.  I thought to myself, "her first dance for Jesus."  

Watching the video I began to wonder if I could see myself in the crowd.  'What did I look like?'  I can't remember.  'What was I wearing? '  I don't know.

I don't remember any of those things.  Do you know what I remember?  The lyrics.  "God is Here. Let the weak say I am strong.  God is Here.  His wonders to perform."  Know what I remember?  The way I felt.  God himself touching my soul.  

My life has changed a lot since then.  I'm divorced.  My first marriage fell apart.  The hopes and dreams I had when I got married long ago broken.  My baby?  Grown.  Gone.  She moved to be with her dad about 1000 miles from my front door.  The people in my daily life now?  I didn't even know them that night.  My current husband, my coworkers, my youngest daughter.  

But one thing did not change since that night.  The Father.  He was the same that night as he is tonight.  I look back on the 2003 video of that worship experience and remember what the world was like back then.  There was no COVID.  There was not as much division in America.  People weren't as divisive.  But you know what?  God didn't change.  He never has.  He was the same then as he is now as he was at the beginning of creation.   

There is comfort in the known.  There is comfort in familiarity.  

I felt the need tonight to write down my thoughts.  I feel that God has a message to share and I need to obey by using my fingers on this keyboard to get the words out.  

Brothers and Sisters in Christ, the world feels like it has gone crazy lately.  There are people dying from COVID, there are children orphaned, it seems like no one can agree on how to best handle the pandemic.  I feel weary of the amount of arguing between every political party.  And yet the answer is so simple.  But our world has held our attention on so many meaningless things that we have too busy to remember where our focus should be.  Focus on Him.  When the world is falling apart - focus on Him.  When the division is too much - Focus on Him.  He never changes.  He never will.  As this world spins out of control He is our constant.  He is our stability.  Sit with Him in silence.  Sit with Him in the familiarity of your favorite hymns.  Remember when life was simple.  Remember that He was there then.  Remember He is there now.  

Cast your cares on Him for He cares for you.  His promises are yes and amen.  He is close to the brokenhearted.  He is faithful.  The fruit of the Spirit includes joy and peace.   Let us seek after the Spirit.  

God is Here.  He always was.  He always is.  

All my love to you dear ones.  

Bye buddy

For some people words don't flow as freely from our mouths as they do from our typing fingers. I am one of those people. If you were to see me right now, you would see me sitting silently in my cluttered home surrounded by chores I need to get done. I am actually staring at a dusty window sill in between sentences. My mouth can't form any words. My husband came in and out of the room on his way to the theater and I couldn't give him more than a nod that I would indeed send him a shopping list on his way home. My tongue is a dead weight in my mouth. And yet my heart has so much to say. The words can not stay in them. Their only escape is through my keyboard. The words know not whom their audience will be. Nor do they care. They escape to make the heart beat. To make it live. To remind the heart of a great love it had and always will have. 

From the stories I have heard, my grandfather was raised by a single mother who was a Polish immigrant. He never knew his father. You would never know that he didn't have a father figure in his life. Not by the man he became. 

He left college and his football scholarship behind when he learned his mother was sick. He went home to take care of her. 

Later he became a Chicago Police officer and married my grandmother. He usually worked two part time jobs in addition to his full time career to make ends meet. 

My parents were young and down on their luck when I was little (about 4-5).  My grandpa showed up to our house every week to bring us groceries.  He called himself the cookie man.  "Cookie man is here!" he would shout as my sister and I would come running for the goodies.  

He was the type of grandpa that would get down on his hands and knees and play with us.  When we got cranky he would sing "Time to go take a nap!  Keri needs a nap!"  When we would get scared over seeing a bug he would say "That's my friend Oscar!  Be nice to Oscar!"

He used to call me his buddy.  He called all of his grandchildren and children his buddies.  I loved being his buddy.

When I was seven my grandparents moved to Florida to take care of my grandmother's mother.  My parents would take us there once, sometimes twice, a year to visit.  Grandpa would pull out all the stops.  They had a pool in their backyard.  When my grandpa got back from work he would surprise us by coming out his bathroom door which led to the deck of the pool and jump straight in the water.  He would splash us and stick his tongue out at us.  His favorite saying was "you need to get a new face."  Every year we would show up and he would say "you didn't get a new face yet??"  

He had a movie room filled with hundreds and hundreds of VHS tapes.  All of them were numbered and he had a typed, numbered list of every title.  He always made sure to have plenty of kids movies available.

I found out when I was older that every trip to Disney World was paid for by my grandpa.  My parents would try to pay, but he wouldn't let them.  We went to Disney every time we would visit.  Grandpa would go on every ride with us.  He would buy us a Mickey Mouse ice cream and a Mickey Mouse balloon.  Once I even got a Minnie Mouse watch.  That was special.  I wore it all the time.

Grandpa would buy children's bicycles to leave in his garage for our visits.  He made sure the tires were inflated, the chains were oiled, and the bikes were shiny and clean.  You could tell he took pride in making sure we had all we needed for our visits.

When I was young, I used to send my grandparents letters in the mail.  I would write silly things like any six or seven year old would.  A few years ago my mom and aunts cleared out my grandparents home and my mom found every letter I ever sent.  I can't believe he kept them.

Every year I would get a card in the mail for my birthday.  I always thought they were in my grandma's handwriting.  I found out later that every card was bought, signed, and sent by my grandpa.  He was just that kind of guy.

My grandpa never knew a stranger either.  He would make friends with someone wherever we would go.  He would have every grocery store clerk, waitress, or waiter laughing along with him within a few moments of meeting them.  

When I was 18, my grandparents moved back to Indiana.  Shortly after, I got married and moved to Texas.  I had to travel on my own since my husband was in military training.  My grandfather said he would help me.  He and my grandmother drove all the way to Texas with my dad and me.  They followed us in their car.  We had walkie talkies to communicate (in the days before cell phones) and I remember him radioing in "Grandma needs a stop!" and off we would go to Cracker Barrel. After all, Cracker Barrel is the only decent place to use the restroom according to grandma.  He was so patient with her.  

When we got to our destination, he happily went to the store to buy me everything that my grandmother insisted that I needed.  A new duvet, a robe for the winter, a special insecticide to ward off the cockroaches that were sure to show up in the south.

After I had my first child, Natalie, I came back to visit my family.  I remember grandpa getting on the floor to crawl after her.  He would say "Peek a boo!" and she would laugh.  When she got cranky he would make a sad face at her and she would cry and he would say "you don't like this ugly guy's face, huh?" 

I had many visits with my grandparents over the years.  I remember the coffee cakes that they would always bring with them.  Grandpa loved crumb cakes and coffee. 

I remember when I lived far away and I would try to call him he always had a hard time hearing me and he never wanted me to waste my money.  He would always say "well I should let you go so you don't spend all your money!"

The last time I saw him, or will ever see him, was almost two years ago.  I promised myself that I would go visit him once a month.  But, you know, life got in the way.  Everything is always so busy, and I just never made it back to see him again.  He had been living in the Dallas area in a nursing home.  I took the girls with me.  I'm glad Gwen and Jada got to meet him.  He really didn't understand who they were, but he remembered me and I was glad.  He was sad that he was living on his own.  He wanted to leave, and I don't think he understood that he couldn't.  He made jokes the whole time of course.  "I'm the funniest man I know and if you don't believe me ask me."  When we left, I gave him a big hug and told him I loved him.  He wanted to walk us to the door, but he couldn't find it.  The residents aren't supposed to know where the door is because then they try to leave and they get confused.  But grandpa insisted on walking me out, so the caretaker let him.  He stood and waved as we walked to the car.  I'll never forget that.

He took his last breath a few hours ago. It helps to know that at the very moment I was in church with my arms raised and praising my savior my grandpa was coming into His presence.  Whenever I praise God I feel that I am stepping into eternity.  Its the closest we can come on Earth to understanding eternity.  I step into singing about God and I feel my past recalled to my mind.  Every moment I have ever sang to God from the time I was little to the present time stands before my mind's eye.  I can see the Catholic church I would praise in with its stained glass windows and cross.  I can see the church in Cedar Lake, in York, England, the churches in San Antonio, etc.  In every place I have ever been, the One I sing to has stayed the same.  Because of this, in those moments of praise I can feel the past, present, and future come together as one.  

Eternity.  

No beginning and no end.  Sometimes eternity sounds scary.  You might think "how am I going to want to be with God and be good all the time.  Thats boring" but I think that eternity can be found in those moments that we wish we could go back to.  For instance, I wish I could spend just one more afternoon with grandpa in Disney World.  But I can't.  But in eternity, those moments that we wish we could go back to would be never ending.  They stretch on forever.  

Several years ago my mother had a conversation with my grandpa about eternity.  She asked him if he knew where he would go when he dies.  He wasn't sure.  She told him the good news about God-- that he sent his son Jesus to die on the cross for the sins of all humanity.  That it was done as a gift and can not be earned.  She explained that all he had to do was believe with his heart and confess with his mouth that Jesus Christ is Lord.  He did at that very moment.  

So I know where he is now.  I know that he is in eternity.  The eternity that stretches on in both directions forever.  Every good moment that will never end.  No more goodbyes.  

One day I will be there too.  And he and I will never have to say "Bye buddy" again.  But for now my heart bids my bestest buddy farewell.  Thanks for loving me my whole life.  Thanks for always being there for me.  I will take a part of you with me.  I will try to emulate all of your good qualities.  Forever the family man through and through, you worked hard for us all.  I'm so proud that I was born into your family.

Love always, your first-born granddaughter,

Keri

Good Bye Grandma

 Lorraine Violet Mathews  2/22/32- 1/16/18


I remember all the times we spent together. 
You were there for me that time I got a fever and had to lay on your couch with the cold white sheets.  I loved how they always smelled like bleach. 
I remember that you pierced my ears.  You were so excited to give me the best earrings and I was so scared of the needle!  You were always so gentle though. 
I don't remember my parents hugging me the way that you did.  They never rubbed my back or my feet or played with my hair.  I loved that about you. 
The way that you knew how to compliment people to make them feel so good about themselves.  It was a gift you had. 
You were so funny too.
 I remember all the times we sat in your kitchen and played board games and laughed and laughed.  You taught me how to swim in your pool. 
You showed me how to do a cartwheel.  I could never master it in my six year old body the way that you did in your 55 year old one. 
I remember sneaking into your backyard to surprise you when we came to visit one year.  We jumped in the pool and made noise to get you out of the house.  I wonder today if you were really surprised.  Did you know we were coming?
 I remember your laugh. 
That sparkle in your eye. 
The way you had all your perfumes laid out so carefully on that mirror tray in your room.  You let me pick one to put on.  You had that jade Buddha that you were so proud of.  I remember how you taught me to rub his belly for luck.  You aren't even a Buddhist.  But you loved everyone.  I don't think you had a prejudiced bone in your body. 

You always bought the best gifts.  Remember how you would spend so much money just to be sure that what you bought was quality?  I have so many silver rings and necklaces because of you.  I kept them all.  I remember how you got Natalie that expensive doll for Christmas because you insisted she get one that was soft and looked like a real baby.  Not the kind of dolls you find in Walmart.  This year I got Gwen a nice doll.  I told her about you and how if you were here now you would have bought it for her.  I try to keep you with me always. 
I am so thankful for all the moments we had at the beach looking for shells and around Disney world when we would hold hands and skip in the rain.  I remember that if I got sick on a ride, as I usually did, you would be there to give me a cold compress and stroke my cheek.  You always had mints in your purse too that would help.  You taught me how to count slowly while I breathe to help me feel better.  Breathe in through your nose 1, 2, 3, 4 and out through your mouth 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.... I still use that strategy today when I feel motion sick.  It really does help.
On my counter at home I have your cookie jar.  You told me that you got it before you and grandpa had kids.  You loved it because it has a wooden lid and it is quiet when you put it back on the jar.  You would imagine your children sneaking cookies in the kitchen with the quiet lid before they were even born. 
You forgot the jar.  It was left in your home the day they took you to the hospital.  You never came back.  Most of the items that you loved were taken by your family.  The rest were sold.  I don't know what happened to the perfumes or the Buddha.  Its interesting isn't it that the things you loved so much you forgot? 
I hate Alzheimer's.
I hate that it took you from us before you left the Earth. I feel cheated out of so many years with you and I'm mad that you were cheated out of so many years with us.
You went to heaven tonight.  We knew you were leaving us.  I prayed so hard that the angels would come and surround your bed and convince you to follow them to your home in heaven.  I prayed you would come face to face with Jesus and you would remember everything again.  I prayed you would remember yourself and your family.  I prayed you would see your mom and dad and brothers again.  I prayed you would embrace your son. 
I won't be at your funeral.  I can't make it in from Texas.  I know everyone else will be there.  Except grandpa.  He won't make it either.  He is losing his memories too. 
You know the crazy thing about life is we never know that something is ending until we look back and realize its over.  I can't remember when our time together in Florida was over.  One day I just looked back and realized that we would never have that place on White Pine Circle anymore.  I didn't know I was seeing you and grandpa for the last time at your house when I came to visit a few years ago. 
One chapter of life moves on to the next so smoothly that we often don't even notice we started the next chapter.  I pray that is how the end of life is. 
I'm glad that I heard you say more than once that you had a good life.  In fact the sound of your voice saying that echoes in my head.  "I've had a goooood life!" I'm so, so glad you did.  And I'm so glad I got to be a small part of it.  I love you grandma.  You will always be a part of me.  I will hold on to that cookie jar.  I will continue to tell stories about you to my kids.  And one day I will make it to the last chapter and I will see you there.  Right now I am imagining that we are just saying farewell until next time like we used to on our Florida trips.  You would kiss us goodbye and make sure we were safely buckled in the backseat and then wave and say "bye bye!  I love you!!" and we would watch you wave until we drove around the corner and out of sight.  Bye Bye Grandma.  I love you.  Bye Bye.

A Day in the Life of a Sixth Grader....

Today I was allowed to be a sixth grader again.  Two things right off the bat...
1.  I can't believe my daughter actually wanted to be seen with me all day (shock...I'm not as embarrassing to her as I assumed!)
2.  I was more excited to see the 21st century middle school than I thought I would be

The day began with the pledge and a lecture from the principal to the parents about what we could and could not do.  Then it was off to first period where my daughter was already hard at work.  The kids in the classroom faced each other and not the teacher.  They held mini white boards and dry erase markers.  They watched a very creative and funny video of the sixth grade math teachers going on a scavenger hunt to find their class points that had been stolen.  In the video, the teachers ran from one clue to another and solved math word problems to discover the next place to find a clue.  The teacher paused the video to allow students the opportunity to solve the problems on their boards before seeing the teachers solve it.  Sometimes the teachers got it wrong and it was awesome to hear the kids shouting "They are doing it wrong!"  At the end of the video the students discovered who the thief of the points was.  As the video ended one student asked, "Was that real?  Did the points really get stolen?"  A lot of the kids answered, "Yes!  Its real!"  I think my heart skipped a beat a little when I heard them say that.  Bless them!  Their bodies are beginning to grow up but they are still our little babies at heart!  They still have that little piece of them that is like their four-year-old selves, believing in the unbelievable and unrealistic.  The math teacher then assigned the students a visual aid project and homework.  I worked along with Natalie.  The 90 minute period flew by!  Before I knew it, the bell was ringing.  Or at least, the kids told me it rang.  My old ears couldn't hear the darn thing!

Next was Pre-Athletics.  Basically they should just call it Free Gold's Gym membership with your own personal trainer.  I'm still hoping my principal will let me leave daily to attend this class.  We lifted weights, we ran, we jumped hurdles and rope, we threw a medicine ball, etc.  Well, I say we and I really mean they.  I cheated my way through most of the exercises.  As I was rounding the corner from my run the girls were literally cheering me on "You can do it!  Almost there!"  I can only imagine what I must have looked like for them to think I needed encouragement.  Did I mention I was running with my coach purse filled with enough stuff to sink a ship?

The girls changed clothes and it was off to lunch.  Wait, lunch at 10:30 right after a Jillian Michaels workout?  Yep!  For some reason a breaded chicken sandwich, fries, and green beans did not seem that appealing at that hour and following that class.  I picked at my food.  The cafeteria was packed with people.  I noticed an armed officer in the lunchroom.  That is definitely a new addition in the 21st century school.  Natalie and I discussed why they would need one of those.  We didn't want to speculate too much.  That's just scary.

Next up was History class.  I thoroughly enjoyed this since the teacher played Kahoot as a review with the class and allowed the parents to play too.  She even rewarded the kids with candy!  Yay!  She let the parents play another round without the kids and I came in first place.  I've still got it!

Off to ELA.  I still don't understand the difference between ELA and Reading class.  In elementary school, ELA is simply the average of the Reading and Writing grades.  That makes sense to me.  In middle school, it seems like ELA is just another Reading class.  The kids did something with chart paper and blah, blah, blah, the kids and I talked about Looney Toons.  Classic cartoons still live!  At the end of the class, Natalie was able to present a project for me and it was pretty good.  I was proud of her stage presence.  She is super quiet in class but not shy at all about presenting.  Go Natalie!

Reading class was next.  ... Didn't we just leave Reading class?  I'm still confused.
And it was boring.  I don't even remember what it was about but I remember a kid sleeping in class.  I think I was a little envious.

Theater class was up next.  I was excited about this one.  We walked in to Shrek the Musical music playing on the speakers.  The kids had to take notes in their journals about the musical.  The teacher talked a little about the musical and then demonstrated how to make cuts with makeup.  The kids then got to practice making cuts on themselves or each other.  Natalie gave me a cut on my arm and did a really good job.  I made one on her face.  Then I realized how macabre this whole thing was.  Did I really just write that we cut each other?  Yeah... 21st century angst.

Last class of the day... science!  What a way to top it off!  It was lab day.  The kids got to make a polymer.  I couldn't tell the teacher 'no' when she offered up a pair of goggles in my direction.  Screw the "no taking out your phones in class" rule, I had to get a selfie of this one.  I forgot how awesome I look in these things.  Natalie said I was under the table taking pictures.  I wouldn't be that dramatic about it, but I was trying to be covert.

Then the day was over and it was off to Walmart and time to prep for my own work day tomorrow.  Ok, I admit it.  I work a lot, maybe to the detriment of my own children.  Natalie must have thanked me a thousand times for walking in her shoes for a day.  She said I am usually "too busy to come to stuff" and she really wanted me there.  Oops!  Have I forgotten that I only have a little while longer?  Have I forgotten that work will always be there?  Guilty.  I pray that I am teaching my children to have a good work ethic, but I also pray that God helps me to open my eyes to walking in my children's shoes more often.  Seeing the world from their eyes, what they experience, what they think, is invaluable.  I won't get these moments back.  Surprisingly, the biggest take away from the day is how sweet and wonderful our middle school kids are.  Every kid I came across was polite, respectful, and friendly.  Its not at all what I remember from middle school.  Funny, I went looking for differences thinking I would find the worst, and I actually found the best.

Poems

I wrote a couple of poems to Facebook several weeks ago.  I quickly realized that these poems will be lost if I do not save them somewhere else.  I am going to copy and paste them here for easier access...

Small and frail you depend on me
massive stature, tall and free
The epitome of safety,
hiding in my wings

I carry you in my care
Like a precious heirloom, I will keep you there
Warmth and love I will provide
Giving all I can to peace abide

Confusion, manipulation
You will not know
Your emotions free to let go
Your life is won for all to see
If only she would set you free

-keri reynolds

I smile because you require it,
I hide the pain inside of it.
I walk the days in spite of it,
the misery there.
To yearn to share it,
to wonder if you'll help carry it,
And the burden of the weight of it.
Im all bruised and battered wondering,
will you help it heal?

-keri reynolds

They are not remarkable in any way, but they are my feelings at the time I was feeling it.  I love to express my thoughts and feelings in words on the printed page.  It is like cheap therapy and it helps me.