Having a companion as loyal as Taffy for the last 13 years is what's right in the world.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Day 32: Grandpa Dean
Father's day got me thinking of things. Lots of things. One of these things was how amazing my grandfather is.
Grandpa Dean:
works hard
taught me how to hook a worn
taught me how to change a flat
loves snicker-doodles and apple pie
taught me how to cook a steak
has made me a more tolerant human
reminds me that good men exist
wears a button-up every day (even if he's working in his wood shop or the yard)
gives hugs that fix any problem
talks sense into me when I'm nonsensical
taught me how to back up a trailer (I never perfected it)
sat through graduations, volleyball games, and track meets
makes beautiful furniture
has helped me move in and out of houses
gives me advice that makes me cry it's so tender
encourages and nourishes my ambitions
is the ultimate handyman
still teases me about boys
talks smack when we play cards and pool
is an unbelievable human being
is protective
cooks a mean tenderloin
finds good in everyone
genuinely cares about his family
is the man
I hope I turn out like Grandpa Dean when I grow up.
My grandpa is what's right in the world.
Grandpa Dean:
works hard
taught me how to hook a worn
taught me how to change a flat
loves snicker-doodles and apple pie
taught me how to cook a steak
has made me a more tolerant human
reminds me that good men exist
wears a button-up every day (even if he's working in his wood shop or the yard)
gives hugs that fix any problem
talks sense into me when I'm nonsensical
taught me how to back up a trailer (I never perfected it)
sat through graduations, volleyball games, and track meets
makes beautiful furniture
has helped me move in and out of houses
gives me advice that makes me cry it's so tender
encourages and nourishes my ambitions
is the ultimate handyman
still teases me about boys
talks smack when we play cards and pool
is an unbelievable human being
is protective
cooks a mean tenderloin
finds good in everyone
genuinely cares about his family
is the man
I hope I turn out like Grandpa Dean when I grow up.
My grandpa is what's right in the world.
Day 31: My Head Might 'Splode
The past week was filled with silly amounts of fun. I can honestly say that at one point during the week I was afraid my head might 'splode due to the unthinkable good times being had by all.
Water slides were slid down. Fresh strawberry milkshakes were consumed. Rodeos were attended. Carnivals were visited. Pools were swam in. Mornings were spent running. Farmers' markets were graced by the presence of fantastic people. Diving boards were flipped off of. Good conversations were had. Dogs were cuddled. Movies were watched. Friends were made. Dances were danced. Handstands were stood. Plans were made.
At the beginning of the summer, this lovely lady and I made a goal to have as much pure, unadulterated fun as we could possibly bear. So far, we've been rather successful.
Good friends and good times are what's right in the world.
Water slides were slid down. Fresh strawberry milkshakes were consumed. Rodeos were attended. Carnivals were visited. Pools were swam in. Mornings were spent running. Farmers' markets were graced by the presence of fantastic people. Diving boards were flipped off of. Good conversations were had. Dogs were cuddled. Movies were watched. Friends were made. Dances were danced. Handstands were stood. Plans were made.
At the beginning of the summer, this lovely lady and I made a goal to have as much pure, unadulterated fun as we could possibly bear. So far, we've been rather successful.
Good friends and good times are what's right in the world.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Day 30: Triplets
My contract at Eastmont Middle School ended as of June 7, 2011—A day that turned out to be sadder than necessary. Middle school special education was going to be a thing of the past for me. As I was gathering the last few things from my desk—tokens that I've collected from the kiddos over the year—the teacher turned to the class and said, "Everyone be sure to thank Miss Megan when you say goodbye. It's her last day."
Up until this moment, I had been okay with it being my last day. I was sure that the copious amounts of high (behavior-problem-inducing) energy that comes during the last week of school was going to be enough to send me running out the doors as soon as my morning shift was over. But as soon as the teacher made a spectacle of my leaving, all bets were off. I went around to each of the kiddos, and gave them a high-five (hugs aren't allowed) and a mini chat, pointing out the outstanding progress they had made over the course of the school year.
I got to H.'s desk. H. is a quiet kiddo who, at all costs, keeps to himself. He's soft spoken but writes phenomenal stories of the adventures he goes on in his own imagination . He's a tiny thing, no taller than the file cabinets that are next to his desk and he's skinny.
"So why are you done?" he asked in his barely audible voice.
"H., you'll love this...I'm going to go work with newborn triplets now," I whispered in attempts to make my rounds less disruptive than they had already become.
"MISS MEGAN," he said in a whisper yell. "You remember that I'M a triplet, right?"
"And a mighty fine one, at that," I responded.
"I was the fist one born. I'm the oldest."
" I bet your brothers both look up to you, H. I know that I do."
And with that, I put my hand out and waited for a high-five. I left it there for a few moments until it was obvious that I was left hanging. I wasn't surprised. H. is really sensitive to input. He hates touching things. He's created a safe cocoon and doesn't like when it is disturbed.
"It's okay if you don't want to give me a high-five," I said. "I'm sure going to miss you bud."
I turned my back to him as I headed to the next student's desk. Just as I turned away, he got out of his seat and flung his arms around me.
"Thanks for being my friend, Miss Megan."
It's an understatement to say that I lost it.
And although I no longer work with my sweet triplet H., I have found myself snuggled up with another one.
Baby G.
I think baby G. knows magic. He did this trick, within the first 10 minutes of knowing him, where he grimaced in his sleep. He followed it up with a groggy grin. And that was it, he got me hook like and sinker. He put a spell on me. I'm nuts about this little person. And to think that that there are two more coming to join the fun. I can hardly stand it!
Up until this moment, I had been okay with it being my last day. I was sure that the copious amounts of high (behavior-problem-inducing) energy that comes during the last week of school was going to be enough to send me running out the doors as soon as my morning shift was over. But as soon as the teacher made a spectacle of my leaving, all bets were off. I went around to each of the kiddos, and gave them a high-five (hugs aren't allowed) and a mini chat, pointing out the outstanding progress they had made over the course of the school year.
I got to H.'s desk. H. is a quiet kiddo who, at all costs, keeps to himself. He's soft spoken but writes phenomenal stories of the adventures he goes on in his own imagination . He's a tiny thing, no taller than the file cabinets that are next to his desk and he's skinny.
"So why are you done?" he asked in his barely audible voice.
"H., you'll love this...I'm going to go work with newborn triplets now," I whispered in attempts to make my rounds less disruptive than they had already become.
"MISS MEGAN," he said in a whisper yell. "You remember that I'M a triplet, right?"
"And a mighty fine one, at that," I responded.
"I was the fist one born. I'm the oldest."
" I bet your brothers both look up to you, H. I know that I do."
And with that, I put my hand out and waited for a high-five. I left it there for a few moments until it was obvious that I was left hanging. I wasn't surprised. H. is really sensitive to input. He hates touching things. He's created a safe cocoon and doesn't like when it is disturbed.
"It's okay if you don't want to give me a high-five," I said. "I'm sure going to miss you bud."
I turned my back to him as I headed to the next student's desk. Just as I turned away, he got out of his seat and flung his arms around me.
"Thanks for being my friend, Miss Megan."
It's an understatement to say that I lost it.
And although I no longer work with my sweet triplet H., I have found myself snuggled up with another one.
Baby G.
I think baby G. knows magic. He did this trick, within the first 10 minutes of knowing him, where he grimaced in his sleep. He followed it up with a groggy grin. And that was it, he got me hook like and sinker. He put a spell on me. I'm nuts about this little person. And to think that that there are two more coming to join the fun. I can hardly stand it!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)