Twelve Summers

One week from right now, I will be in my classroom checking the clock for the last half-hour of open house to be over. Another school year will begin...my 13th to be exact. This also means I have had twelve summer "vacations". Each summer has been different in its own way. I got married the summer after my first year of teaching. That was a whirlwind summer which involved, among many other things, a lot of thank you writing. A few summers after that, we moved to our house...lots of packing, unpacking, painting, and calls to people who could install things like water softeners and heat pumps. That was the summer I also spent many hours taking classes towards my Masters. The following summer we hosted Troy's mother-in-law as she finished work at BSU for her teaching degree. I was also still taking classes, and Troy was working at BSU. We all had a lot of fun that summer. I think the next summer I hammered out my research paper and was happy to complete my Master's degree. The following summer will surely never be forgotten! It started on an exciting note as I was almost 20 weeks pregnant and ended on my red sofa on complete bedrest. To this day, lying on the red couch is a comforting place for me. The summers since then have entailed all the things that one does as a mom of an infant, toddler, and now a little boy. I try to soak it all in because I know how FAST it goes. I am so grateful, as a working mom, to have the opportunity to be home three months out of the year. And so each summer, as the warm days wind down and school bells beckon, I take a few deep breaths as the countdown to another summer begins.

Happy Homecoming Day!

So I was taking a little nap on my blue chair after being out on the deck removing screws from the boards because we are going to have a friend build us a bigger deck and I think I can save a little labor cost if some of the removal work is done. As Mateo said when he was helping me pick up the screws and put them in a bucket, "I think it's time to go in for a break." He had the right idea, so I finished what I could and went inside. It was close to supper time, but I had no idea what to make. My thought process was something of the following: if I fall asleep long enough, maybe Troy will make something. Wishful thinking! I woke up about 45 mintues later and he was still on the couch playing something on his iPod Touch which is what he had been doing when I drifted off. I then relayed to him what I had been thinking earlier, so he, being the kind husband he is (truly), got up and decided to make some mac and cheese and Polish sausages. While he was making supper, the phone rang. It was my dad calling from Alaska where my parents are vacationing. He wanted to tell me he was thinking of me and to wish me a Happy Homecoming Day--the day I arrived in the states when I was adopted. (I don't keep track of this date-I've heard of it but always forget.) It was 34 years ago today that I joined my family. I was nineteen months old and very ill. It was also the same day that my parents found out that they were expecting a baby! Can you even imagine?! I am always amazed at that part of the story. As an adult, I have pondered what that would have been like to be receiving this very sick child and then finding out another baby was on the way. My arrival was also during the time that my parents were being called to the mission field in Africa where my sister was born eight months later. My parents had amazing faith.

Even though my homecoming day was 34 years ago and now a somewhat distant memory for my parents, I guess it is worth a mention. And so I enjoyed my mac and cheese and Polish without feeling guilty that I hadn't made supper. Happy homecoming to me!