Future Ambitions

For the sake of the kids' diary - my ultimate intent for blogging - I am recording what their current plans are for the future, as told to me this evening.

Seth, age five:

1. Ice cream maker

2. Chair builder (a.k.a. carpenter)

Hannah, age seven:

1. Store clerk

2. Knitter and sewer

3. Construction worker

At present, it appears there are no budding neurosurgeons or rocket scientists. Apparently that means that their dad and I will have to depend on our own limited savings for retirement. {Big Sigh}

200th Post

Song: (Tune to Rain, Rain, Go Away)

Cold, cold, go away

And find yourself in Montego Bay

I'm so cold

Yes, I'm so cold

I won't be going out today

My darling husband went to Princess Auto today because he decided to buy himself one of these hats. Only in black and not quite so fashionable.

The only problem is that he decided to buy FOUR of them. One for him. One for Hannah. One for Seth.

AND ONE FOR ME.

Hmm. Special. I can't wait to wear it next time to church.

Yes. I'm still supremely ticked that it's still STINKIN' cold.

Railing Against The Stinkin' COLD!

I try not to say the word stinkin' in front of my son because it sounds pretty bad when a five-year-old goes around saying, "stinkin' this and stinkin' that". However, since he doesn't read my blog, I WILL blog about this STINKIN' weather.

It is officially winter. And for all of you pansified people who don't know what cold is, I'll tell you. Right now it is -31 degrees Celsius, which is -23.8 degrees Fahrenheit. Tonight the wind chill value is predicted to be anywhere from -40 to -50 degrees Celsius, which is -40 to -58 degrees Fahrenheit. It is colder here than in Iqaluit, Nunavit (one of our Northern Canadian Territories). It is colder here than Whitehorse, Yukon (another of our Northern Canadian Territories). Only Yellowknife, Northwest Territories is colder right now with a wind chill factor of -51 degrees Celsius.

It is only -2 degrees Fahrenheit in Juneau, Alaska.

I tell ya, life isn't fair. Like some people think that wealth should be redistributed, I think that the COLD should be redistributed. I love winter usually, but this year the cold is getting into my bones in a new way. I just can't seem to warm up. I have gained a new respect for my almost 89-year-old grandma.

We have a young man coming to our church who recently moved here from Uganda (where the average high is +25 degrees Celsius, or +80 degrees Fahrenheit - YEAR AROUND!). He has not yet been in Canada for two months. Having heard of the "horror stories" of our winters, he told me a few weeks ago that he had been praying for God to keep away the cold for as long as possible. Since November had above average temperatures, it appeared that God was answering his prayer. I told him to keep on praying it and I would continue to pray God's blessings on his prayer.

I think I may have to ask him when I see him next if he has recently done something to make God mad......

Just sayin'...:)

Gratifying

I've had more difficulties with my bus route this year than I did as a new driver last year. The main reason is that I very much butt heads with the principal of this new school.

There are times, however, when I feel rewarded for trying to go the extra mile. And today was one of them.

I had two new students start bussing last week that were unable to speak any English at all. I found out they were from Colombia, South America and spoke only Spanish. When the dad brought them to the bus stop the first morning we were unable to communicate and I only hoped that I was taking these kids to the correct school. Fortunately, it turned out okay.

On the second day they rode, I went to pick up the kids after school. I drop off some students North of the school on my first round and then return for my second load of students to drop off South of the school. On the first day my new students rode, they got on the bus on the second round (like they are supposed to), so I thought they somehow understood this was when they were to get on. However, on the second day on my return to the school to pick up the second group of kids, the vice principal told me that this girl (grade five) was crying quite hard because she thought she missed the bus. She could not be consoled.

I did my best to comfort this girl in whatever way you comfort people using only body language, and dropped her off at her stop - much troubled. This is one of the most difficult parts of this job I have had this year. There have been many communication problems because of the language barrier, but nothing troubles me more than having a child cry in misunderstanding.

I pondered the problem on the way home. Then I had a "moment". Sometimes the answer is so obvious it stares you in the face. Here I am on the computer daily, hooked up to the internet, and I realized that......duh......I could probably find a website that translated English to Spanish.

And I did. The only consolation I have is that the school - the great educational system - did not have the brains to think of this either, because the vice principal was telling me that they could not communicate with this family at all because they did not have a translator.

I came home and typed a letter to this family, introducing myself by giving my name, explaining everything they needed to know about the bus, especially the "second round" that their children would be on after school. I said that I hoped this would comfort their daughter, welcomed them to Canada, and then told them how they could get onto this website to communicate if they could get access to the internet (though a library, or something). I gave this letter to the dad yesterday morning when I picked up his children.

And herein is my reward:

This morning when I picked up his children, he came up to the steps and said - with a huge smile on his face,

"Good morning, Darla," in broken English.

Such a little thing, really, but one that brought tears to my eyes, for it made me realize that he did, indeed, understand what I tried to say. And he was gratefully conveying this to me as best as he knew how.

And I am gratified this morning.

My Brilliant Teacher

Okay. I have to give credit where credit is due. The fact is my husband is a brilliant teacher. I have no doubt that if I worked full time (and part time, like he does), and he homeschooled the kids, that they would be brilliant scholars.

I do alright at homeschooling. I am diligent and make sure they do not slip behind. In fact, I try to keep them ahead, but that's mainly because it frees up days where we don't have to do any school at all. But I am no great teacher.

And I do NOT have an inordinate amount of patience.

Yes, if Dave was home all day with them, I suspect he would lack in the patience area as well, like I do. However, he is in his element when he is teaching and if there is any time he has extraordinary amounts of patience, it is when he is teaching.

I had a tough morning with my son with mostly behavioural issues. On the bus this morning, since the weather has turned suddenly very cold, there were more kids riding, causing the kids to be packed like sardines. That meant that Hannah and Seth had to share their seat with another kid, which meant that it gave Seth an even greater opportunity to torment his sister, who was sandwiched beside him. He was the worst behaved kid on the bus. And that began our wonderful morning.

And to be perfectly honest, when my patience is tried first thing with my son, I'm hard pressed to regain it before we start school.

We were doing math, and like Hannah did at this stage, Seth has a problem with the number 0. He is finally understanding that 5 + 0 = 5, and not 6. And he finally understands that 6 - 0 = 6. However, if you switch it around (like 6 + __ = 6) he could not grasp that the answer was 0. I tried every visual thing I could think of to help him and I still could not help him to understand.

And then God heard my prayer and his dad came home unexpectedly for lunch.

With an exceeding amount of patience - because Seth did not grasp it immediately, even with his brilliant technique - he visually led him through this problem. I watched the master, trying to pick up some tricks. Truthfully, I don't have the patience (big surprise there) to explain how he so masterfully accomplished this, but I will say that part of it was because of healthy amounts of patience added to his teaching skill.

Smiling as he ate his lunch - he really does enjoy this and should have been a teacher, in my opinion - I tried to defend my inability by explaining our less than perfect morning. And although that is partly true, I know beyond a doubt that I cannot hold a candle to my husband's natural ability to teach.

I will end this post with one last brag about him. He has taken four correspondence courses in the last couple of years (things like technology, real estate, etc., all management-type courses) with the goal of readying himself to qualify for civic management positions. There will be some people retiring within a couple of years and positions opening up. Which means a significant increase in pay and ONE job instead of TWO.

Anyway, my husband has mastered the art of studying (and it IS an art, believe me) so well, that the lowest mark he has received in his four courses is 95 percent. He has gotten one 100 percent, and two 99 percents.

Pretty impressive for a 48-year-old......ancient......man.:)

Questions of the Day

From Seth, first thing this morning before my eyelids were even open:

"Mom, how do goats kiss?"

For which I had no coherent answer to (or even enough brain cells to wonder where on earth that question came from), and then,

"Mom, is Jesus God's second name?"

I told him that no, Jesus was God's first name. He then asked:

"Then, is God Jesus' second name?"

And my question? Why can't he wait until I'm awake before he starts the million questions?

Stupid, "Special" Parent

Again today, for the 376th time this year, there was a vehicle parked in the bus zone this morning. I'm finding my spirit sorely tested every time this happens (and pray to God this isn't WHY this keeps happening), so, ticked off, I got off the bus to let the special parent know (as he was just getting back in his vehicle) that he was in the bus zone and that he now must WAIT.

Picture the scenario: I am pulled beside this vehicle. I tried to box the vehicle in so he couldn't move until I was done unloading the kids. The kids have to walk IN FRONT OF this vehicle to exit, now that the dumb, bone-headed special parent took my spot. I open the doors to start letting the kids off.

THIS MORON PARENT STARTS TO DRIVE.

I freak. Literally. I yelled at the top of my lungs to this parent who was coming between me and the bus door (with window down) to:

"WAIT! YOU HAVE TO WAIT! YOU CAN'T MOVE!"

This stupid, dumb, moronic, special parent yells back at me,

"RELAX, LADY! I DIDN'T SEE THE SIGN!"

Relax? Relax? NOW WHY DID HE THINK THAT I SHOULD RELAX? I yell again,

"WAIT! YOU HAVE TO WAIT!"

He again tells me to relax. He then manages to squeak through the small opening with his vehicle and leave.

Now, several hours later, as you can see, I am still NOT RELAXED. Why? Because all day I've been picturing what could have happened. If I would have let one of those kids down, they would have been hit by that car.

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my days as a bus driver would have been over. Even if I would not have been at fault, I don't think I would be able to get over it if a kid was hit by a car on MY WATCH.