Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Thank You Teachers
A couple of years ago I started the tradition in our family to have a family home evening in Novemeber where we thanked our teachers and neighbors. I have started to look foreward to this. Since both girls are in school now we only have been doing our teachers. Last night we made these pencils (rolos and a kiss).
Aren't they cute! Then we delivered them to our Primary teachers (Sis Alyshia Miller (L) and Sis Jenny Smith (A)) and Aliyah took hers to Ms Alexander today. I feel bad that Laurens teachers wont get one. I didn't know she wouldn't have school this week. I truly am grateful for the wonderful teachers I and my children have and have had in our lives.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Girlie Lauren
One might think because Lauren loves horses, snakes and dragons, playing in the dirt/mud and Tess's house, that she isn't a girlie girl....Oh wrong. This little girl loves to wear dresses, the longer the better. She loves make up, with is usually how I attempt to entertain her while I do her hair. Often when I'm puttin on my make up she climbed up to stand on the toilet and puts make up on with me.
Lauren also loves nail polish! I have to hide it because if she finds it, that is it, it has to go on her fingers or she is one mad girl. Yesterday we sat on our new block wall as we waited for the school bus and I painted her fingers. When I was done she painted mine. She did so good. She was so careful not to get it on my skin and if she did she would wipe it off (this caused more mess then the actual painting). It is so cute to see her focus so hard. I love these special moments I have with her, no words are shared but I understand what it is she would say if she could and in those moment I know, she knows I love her.
Today we met with her teacher, Chari and the schools director, Eric. Awhile ago Chari asked if we had or would want Lauren tested for Autism. I have had a fear of doing this. I am worried her diagnosis would become her label. Her excuse. Her identity. That it would precede her. Its not a issue of denial. I am very aware of Laurens strengths and weakness. I told Chari at this time we were not but we would be interested in meeting with the tester to better understand how the testing was done, what the benefits and draw backs were and those kind of things. So that is why we met today.
These people, who work with Lauren, are incredible!! I feel so blessed to have them apart of Lauren and our life. They explained the benefits (tax deductions and gov assistive programs) and draw backs (none really). The benefit to having Lauren tested at her school is that Eric is able to watch Lauren over an extended period of time in an environment she is used to. One of my concerns was having to take her to some stranger in a strange/new place, have her watched for 20minutes then have them say she is______. Like you can tell the ins an outs of a person in one meeting, not my child, no way. That is striping her of her individualism in my opinion.
The thing I was most impressed by was that at no point was it encouraged, suggested, hinted at, anything, to have the testing done or what they feel she would be diagnosed with. I know that they, especially Eric, probably has a partially formed diagnosis for her, how could he not, its what he does and he works with Lauren often. However, those impression were never expressed in anyway. I felt so respected as her parent and advocate.
We also went over her progress report, which was good. They said they felt Lauren was doing so well and accepting and utilizing the interventions so well they wanted to extend her day to 4 hours instead of 2. I asked is it really because she is doing so well or because you don't feel like she is making progress fast enough. They were adamant that it was because she was doing so well. We'll try it out starting on the 28th and give it a trail run. It will be so weird to have my little girl gone from 8:50am till 2pm, oohh that's a long time.
I am so grateful! I feel so blessed! I know these people were meant to be part of Lauren life to give her what we don't know how to! My appreciation goes beyond what my being can hold.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Daniels Birthday!
Today is Daniel birthday!! He was able to take the whole day off work. It was so nice to spend the day with him. Its one of my favorite things...hopefully his too :-). We had our donut breakfast , got the kids to school and then had a little work to do in the yard so we did that ( I would not have chosen to do this on my birthday, but that's Daniel, not afraid to work). We had SEPs then then we meet up with Daniels parents and went to Chuck-a-rama for lunch, which was enough for dinner too. We came home and opened presents, visited, ate cake and ice cream. We had german chocolate cake (Daniels fav) I told him I could make him one of my fancy cakes but he just wanted the traditional german chocolate cake. It was a nice, simple day, just Daniels style.
This is not the best view of this cake but Aliyah love putting all 32 candles on Daddy's cake.
HaPpY bIrThDaY!!! We love you so much!!
Friday, November 11, 2011
Veterans Day
THANK YOU!! to all the Veterans who have served our country and us. We are so blessed to live in the United Stated of America. Daniels' dad served in WWII and was a POW the last 6 months oF the war. Daniels very talented sister Nani, wrote this:
As a young girl, I didn't view my father as a veteran. He never joined The American Legion or marched in front of an audience on the Fourth of July. I never saw his army uniform or his World War II photos. The few stories that he shared held the gloss of legends.
During one late-night family discussion, I heard about the unusually calm day in far-off Europe when an unidentified voice prompted my father to leave the protection of his foxhole. Against the grain of battlefield logic, he obeyed. Moments later, morter shells were fired from the German lines. One exploded inside the trench.
Lost in a sleepy haze, I vaguely rejoiced that my father had lived to tell the tale. Yet I missed the tragic fact that his buddy died in the blast.
When my father reminisced about the winter he spent in a German prison camp, I shivered with imagined cold. Yes, I felt troubled as I learned how he and other POWs were forced to sleep naked after guards collected their ragged clothes each night. Yet his voice seemed almost jovial as he described nocturnal air raids when everyone was rousted from the barracks and compelled to wait outside in snowy trenches until the planes departed. He joked about eating nothing but black bread and watery stock beet soup. I cleaned my plate at mealtimes, never considering the possibility that he might have endured even more.
Veteran's Day came and went each year without parades or school assemblies. Sometimes one of my older siblings bought small red tissue poppies from former servicemen in our small town.
I grew up feeling proud of my father and deeply patriotic. But I didn't give much thought to the fact that he was someone besides my dad and a friendly postmaster who could find the right mailbox for letters addressed to "Grandma Hunt" in a first-grade scrawl.
Thanks to my husband, this myopic perspective began to change. An avid student of World War II, he sometimes drew my father into conversations about his experiences as a soldier on the front lines in Europe. I then realized that my dad was assigned to the Fourth Armored Spearhead Division of General George S. Patton's famous Third Army which turned the tide of Germany's last major offensive in the Battle of the Bulge.
Since then, my mother has recorded his detailed accounts that breathe life into history and portray a resolute yet vulnerable young man who maintained hope and faith in the midst of circumstances that were usually beyond his control.
Saying good-bye to his youth in southern Utah, he watched the Statue of Liberty recede into the horizon as the Equitania carried him and 4,000 troops to war-torn Europe in 1944. He walked through the wreckage of Omaha Beach where a life-long friend had been killed during the D-Day invasion only a few weeks before. He assisted in capturing a machine-gun "nest", only to discover that it was manned by twelve-year-old German boys who cried for their mothers as they surrendered. A short time later, he too was compelled to raise both hands in the air as enemy captors declared, "The war is over for you."
A few years ago, my mother asked my dad about the three weeks of interrogation he endured while being held in a German castle during the Christmas season in 1944. Like the rest of us, she had always assumed that he was spared the harsh treatment that other POWs endured.
My heart breaks even as I respect his answer: "No one will ever know what happened there."
We'll never know all the horrors he witnessed or the full extent of deprivation that he suffered in Stalag 4-B. Yet we do know that, when he walked through open prison gates in May of 1945, he had gained not only physical freedom but also forgiveness and compassion towards ordinary people who had been subjected to the power of an evil minority.
My father is quick to acknowledge the dignity and refinement of the German people even as he recalls how their children laughed and sang as they dragged Christmas trees home on their sleds. He'll never forget the prison guards who showed photos of family members and sweethearts to the POWs when their superiors weren't watching. One of them occasionally gave him a few extra rations. And he's still grateful for a Czech family who chose to feed him and his newly-liberated companions their first decent meal as they traveled south to the American lines.
Sixty-five years later, my parents visited places in Germany that evoked memories and deep emotion. They also walked through the Saar Valley in France where my father had been captured at age nineteen.
People in the nearby village remember who made their liberation possible so long ago. They lay flowers on the graves of the dead. They also thanked my father--one of the dwindling number of World War II soldiers who still lives.
Last summer he wore his uniform and joined other hometown veterans who were honored by cheering crowds in the Fourth of July parade. For the first time, our younger sons saw him as someone besides their grandpa who prefers western shirts.
Every Veteran's Day, I picture him leaning on his cane as he and my mother make their way to the local schools for patriotic assemblies. He's grown thin and tired and late-autumn sun highlights the silver in his hair. Still, he's there to listen as his grandchildren and other students sing about how freedom isn't free.
Later, he'll call his buddy from Patton's Fourth Armored Division.
They paid the price.
THE MAN WITHIN THE VETERAN
As a young girl, I didn't view my father as a veteran. He never joined The American Legion or marched in front of an audience on the Fourth of July. I never saw his army uniform or his World War II photos. The few stories that he shared held the gloss of legends.
During one late-night family discussion, I heard about the unusually calm day in far-off Europe when an unidentified voice prompted my father to leave the protection of his foxhole. Against the grain of battlefield logic, he obeyed. Moments later, morter shells were fired from the German lines. One exploded inside the trench.
Lost in a sleepy haze, I vaguely rejoiced that my father had lived to tell the tale. Yet I missed the tragic fact that his buddy died in the blast.
When my father reminisced about the winter he spent in a German prison camp, I shivered with imagined cold. Yes, I felt troubled as I learned how he and other POWs were forced to sleep naked after guards collected their ragged clothes each night. Yet his voice seemed almost jovial as he described nocturnal air raids when everyone was rousted from the barracks and compelled to wait outside in snowy trenches until the planes departed. He joked about eating nothing but black bread and watery stock beet soup. I cleaned my plate at mealtimes, never considering the possibility that he might have endured even more.
Veteran's Day came and went each year without parades or school assemblies. Sometimes one of my older siblings bought small red tissue poppies from former servicemen in our small town.
I grew up feeling proud of my father and deeply patriotic. But I didn't give much thought to the fact that he was someone besides my dad and a friendly postmaster who could find the right mailbox for letters addressed to "Grandma Hunt" in a first-grade scrawl.
Thanks to my husband, this myopic perspective began to change. An avid student of World War II, he sometimes drew my father into conversations about his experiences as a soldier on the front lines in Europe. I then realized that my dad was assigned to the Fourth Armored Spearhead Division of General George S. Patton's famous Third Army which turned the tide of Germany's last major offensive in the Battle of the Bulge.
Since then, my mother has recorded his detailed accounts that breathe life into history and portray a resolute yet vulnerable young man who maintained hope and faith in the midst of circumstances that were usually beyond his control.
Saying good-bye to his youth in southern Utah, he watched the Statue of Liberty recede into the horizon as the Equitania carried him and 4,000 troops to war-torn Europe in 1944. He walked through the wreckage of Omaha Beach where a life-long friend had been killed during the D-Day invasion only a few weeks before. He assisted in capturing a machine-gun "nest", only to discover that it was manned by twelve-year-old German boys who cried for their mothers as they surrendered. A short time later, he too was compelled to raise both hands in the air as enemy captors declared, "The war is over for you."
A few years ago, my mother asked my dad about the three weeks of interrogation he endured while being held in a German castle during the Christmas season in 1944. Like the rest of us, she had always assumed that he was spared the harsh treatment that other POWs endured.
My heart breaks even as I respect his answer: "No one will ever know what happened there."
We'll never know all the horrors he witnessed or the full extent of deprivation that he suffered in Stalag 4-B. Yet we do know that, when he walked through open prison gates in May of 1945, he had gained not only physical freedom but also forgiveness and compassion towards ordinary people who had been subjected to the power of an evil minority.
My father is quick to acknowledge the dignity and refinement of the German people even as he recalls how their children laughed and sang as they dragged Christmas trees home on their sleds. He'll never forget the prison guards who showed photos of family members and sweethearts to the POWs when their superiors weren't watching. One of them occasionally gave him a few extra rations. And he's still grateful for a Czech family who chose to feed him and his newly-liberated companions their first decent meal as they traveled south to the American lines.
Sixty-five years later, my parents visited places in Germany that evoked memories and deep emotion. They also walked through the Saar Valley in France where my father had been captured at age nineteen.
People in the nearby village remember who made their liberation possible so long ago. They lay flowers on the graves of the dead. They also thanked my father--one of the dwindling number of World War II soldiers who still lives.
Last summer he wore his uniform and joined other hometown veterans who were honored by cheering crowds in the Fourth of July parade. For the first time, our younger sons saw him as someone besides their grandpa who prefers western shirts.
Every Veteran's Day, I picture him leaning on his cane as he and my mother make their way to the local schools for patriotic assemblies. He's grown thin and tired and late-autumn sun highlights the silver in his hair. Still, he's there to listen as his grandchildren and other students sing about how freedom isn't free.
Later, he'll call his buddy from Patton's Fourth Armored Division.
They paid the price.
Copyright Nov. 15, 2011 by Nani Lii S. Furse
Monday, November 7, 2011
Our Thankful tree
I look forward to putting up our Thankful tree. Its so fun to see the kids, especially Lauren enjoy building it. Aliyah helped add more leaves this year and wrote them herself. I love walking in my door and seeing this.
Halloween Spooktacular
We had a spooktacular Halloween that lasted 4 days!! On Friday Aliyahs school had their Halloween parade and class parties. This year Aliyah wanted to be Bat Girl. She wore her costume to school and I dressed Christian in his Lion costume and Lauren was Dorothy for Aliyahs parade. I love school Halloween parades, I love seeing the kids all dressed up! Lauren loves to watch them too and Christian liked it and walking around for his one man parade.
Then it was pumpkin carving. Mom and Dad provided enough pumpkins we all got to carve our own. It was fun and it turned into and adult activity more then a kid one but truth be known...it was my favorite part. Poor Rob, I was not his favorite person when I brought out the pumpkin carving stencils. He was happy to do a traditional pumpkin but No Ashton had to have a star wars pumpkin. It was so funny. All the pumpkins were awesome. We had haunted castle (Daniel), a rose (Aliyah), Jasmine (Leela) cross bones and skull(Kaden) pumpkin and ghost ( Kevin and Mom), fancy face pumpkin (Lauren), star wars (Ashton) and Kagan and Gauge made on too but I cant remember what it was. I wish I would have gotten a picture of them but I was covered in pumpkin guts. That night we took all the little kids around to look at lights and the plaino (aliyahs favorite blow up) Man people just don't decorate for Halloween, they make me look like The Griswold's, it was sad.
That night we drove up to my moms. Saturday we had our family Halloween party. Everyone was able to come and we all had a good time. Mom did a great job, as always, putting on our Halloween party. The theme was mummies. While Daniel and I took Lauren to get her hair cut, Aliyah and mom made mummy treats, a mummy for outside and decorated the house.
Aliyah made this mummy all by herself, she didn't even watch us make the other but she figured it out
Aliyah even thought of a way she and New Grandma would welcome the guest. Aliyah and New Grandma and I are 3 peas in a pod, we love to decorate for the holidays, celebrate, party and even look at other peoples decorations (Aliyah and Grandma might like that more than me) I love that Aliyah is just like us...the tradition will live on. And I guess Grandma Stewart is to blame for our love of decorating as she is the queen of theme decorating.
We all ate, then played a game where we had to be in teams and wrap one person up as a mummy, we only had one roll of TP but it was fun.
Then it was pumpkin carving. Mom and Dad provided enough pumpkins we all got to carve our own. It was fun and it turned into and adult activity more then a kid one but truth be known...it was my favorite part. Poor Rob, I was not his favorite person when I brought out the pumpkin carving stencils. He was happy to do a traditional pumpkin but No Ashton had to have a star wars pumpkin. It was so funny. All the pumpkins were awesome. We had haunted castle (Daniel), a rose (Aliyah), Jasmine (Leela) cross bones and skull(Kaden) pumpkin and ghost ( Kevin and Mom), fancy face pumpkin (Lauren), star wars (Ashton) and Kagan and Gauge made on too but I cant remember what it was. I wish I would have gotten a picture of them but I was covered in pumpkin guts. That night we took all the little kids around to look at lights and the plaino (aliyahs favorite blow up) Man people just don't decorate for Halloween, they make me look like The Griswold's, it was sad.
Lauren was helping Uncle Kev carve his pumpkin.
On Monday was Lauren class party. This time I dressed up as well. Since Lauren was Dorothy and Christian was a lion, I was a witch. Her class party was simple but fun. They sang at circle time, then they went to table time to stamp lunch sacks, cuz you can't go trick or treating without a sack for candy. It was awesome to watch Lauren, she went to the table without a fuss,she stamped all on her own, she gave the stamps back when she was asked for the and traded ink pads and when it was done she was fine to go back to circle time. AMAZING!
Then they lined the kids up to parade through the other classes. This is Laurens buddy for the day, they are not assigned but Lauren loved her dress and wanted to be with her and the dress.
After we got back we watched the other classes and then had snack time. Lauren chose what treat she wanted, a green cupcake (she loves the look of cupcakes but she only ever swipes at the icing and even then hardly eats that, the aid said "I've noticed Lauren doesn't really like sweet things.......they are getting know and understand her!) I saw so many things that amazed me but the most amazing thing was when snack time was done, Mrs Chari looked at Lauren and signed "all done" while asking Lauren if she was finished and Lauren SIGNED "all done"!!! Then Mrs. Chari said "good lets clean up" and Lauren grabbed her cupcake and threw it away, crumpled up her napkin/plate and threw it away with no other prompts other then moving a trash can by her!!!!!! After that they played 2 games. One where they threw ladybug bean bags into a cauldron, Lauren liked this. Then play hot potato with a stuffed pumpkin/spider thing and Lauren participated, she sat in the circle, she caught and threw the pumpkin appropriate to the game. YAAHH!! Then they went on a spooky walk to a room they had decorated with lights and another toss in the cauldron game, they hung different halloween things from the ceiling and we threw little pumpkins at them and had a box where you couldn't see in but could pull things out. Lauren like this and had several small items in her hands but when it was time to be done, they said "clean up" and she put them all back in the box without a fuss or help or prompt !!!!HOLY COW.
Then they had outside time. Mrs. Chari talked to me then, I told her how amazed I was at all the things I saw Lauren do. She said today was a really good day, and that most of the time Lauren is like this, sometimes she does get upset at the change of activities but has learned upset or not the change is happening and so she can better accept it. Its completely amazing to me how far Lauren has come in 2 months of school. And she loves it. Shes happy. She learning. Its a miracle to me and a joy that is indescribable!! I cried the whole way home and had several teary moments at school. Its just so wonderful.
Anyways back to Halloween.......
That night we ate mummy toe casserole (tator tot casserole) I forgot some things for the In-a-pumpkin meal but this is a family fav. Then went trick or treating. Daniel joined the fun and put a pirate costume on (we were going to be Mary Poppins and Bert but I didn't plan early enough, next year). We got a lot of candy and had a lot of fun. Aliyah kept telling me Halloween is her favorite holiday. We do have so much fun and try to have a lot of fun with it.
Ah yeah do you see the black on Dorothy's dress, that would be from Lauren thinking she could paint her own fingernails black....great.
We forgot to get a family Halloween picture but other then that, It was a great Halloween!!
