HAPPY MICAH DAY!

For those of you who are wondering, Micah legally became our daughter twenty-one years ago today!  At our house we celebrate her adoption finalization with "Happy Micah Day!" 

DAD!

Sam and I drove to Iowa today for the first time since March 7, 2020 to see my dad.  At this point, we've all had at least one Covid shot, it was just the three of us, and it was time!  

The large pitcher was a regift from my sister-in-law Debbi who was downsizing her pitcher collection.  Little did we know, Dad already had the matching little pitcher.

What makes it even funnier, is the home town has been running out of water for whatever odd reasons - at least twice so far this year.  Dad was thrilled to get a big pitcher to put water in - just in case!

 

No Panty Lines!

The front desk at the Y can't stop laughing! For the second time in two weeks, I forgot to bring underwear to change into after my swim.  Oppsies!  I plan to pack better for tomorrow!  

Marie Madeline

 

Marie Madeleine loves school. She believes with a good education, she will be able to accomplish her dreams, and she refuses to let her condition slow her down.   When she was a young child, Marie Madeleine developed an abnormally tight muscle contracture in her leg. As she continued to grow, her knee unnaturally hyperextended backward, leaving her with a severe limp when she walked. Despite this difficulty, Marie Madeleine continued making the short journey to school, where she was determined to learn.

One day, that miracle arrived in the form of news from a neighbor in their village, who told them about a hospital ship arriving in Dakar. Soon Marie Madeleine and her grandmother made the journey to the Africa Mercy and it did not take long before she was scheduled for surgery.

On the eve of her operation, Marie Madeleine talked about her “new life,” envisioning all of the possibilities that lie ahead of her. And after her successful surgery, she focused on those visions as she began rehabilitation.   She worked with the rehab team for several hours every week to restore mobility and to improve her leg’s strength. It was long and hard work, but Marie Madeleine had the end in sight and, eager to get back to school, she persevered.   Several months after her arrival at the Africa Mercy, the bright 13-year-old girl with the triumphant smile and straight legs was ready to go home and back to school!

“I am so happy to see her going to school with straight legs,” says Adama. “Everything is okay now!”

The Bakke/Zupke Game

Aimee is always looking for "brain break" games to use in her classroom.  This morning while cleaning the porcelain throne, I came up with one:  "Is it Mrs. Bakke or is it Mrs. Zupke?"

When I shared my idea with Aimee during prep time, she was all in.  We'll be coming up with lists to use over spring break so the students can stand up as they guess which one of us is the correct answer to question(s) like:

"Is it Mrs. Bakke or Mrs. Zupke who used to live in a castle?"  (Zupke)

"Is it Mrs. Bakke or Mrs. Zupke who has brown eyes?"  (Bakke)

"Is it Mrs. Bakke or Mrs. Zupke who has been to Africa?" (Both)

"Is it Mrs. Bakke or Mrs. Zupke who lives closest to Oak Hills Elementary?" (Bakke)

"Is it Mrs. Bakke or Mrs. Zupke who loves the North Shore?"  (Both)   

You get the idea!  It should be fun!

Thankful Thursday!

Today, I want to share with you all how thankful I am to be working with Aimee Bakke in her fifth grade classroom at Oak Hills Elementary.  That Bakke name may ring a bell as her husband in the principal at Century Middle School.  

Just yesterday, in the middle of core literature, Mrs. Bakke said to her class after I made some snarky comment, "I think Mrs. Zupke and I were separated at birth!  We have so much fun together, we belong together!"

I agree.  I am thankful for the opportunity and privilege to work with Aimee. 

Two T-Shirts and A Lot of Smiles!

Once again this afternoon, Micah attempted to give blood, while my iron was the highest it's ever been (14.5).  

I gave.  Micah sat with me.  We laughed hysterically.  About nothing.  About everything.  We had fun.  Those taking the blood noticed.  They commented. Very positively.  It was good.  

And to top it off, we each got a free t-shirt!  

"What part of 'no' . . . "

". . . don't you understand?"

How I wish I could ask one of our fifth grade classes that question!  I think every recess staff, definitely the female fifth grade teachers (not sure about the male teacher, but hey, these are his kids!) and the principal have reiterated over and over and over again - there is to be nothing from home at outdoor recess!

I caught two fifth grade boys with Pokemon cards today.  They were trying to be super sneaky under the basketball hoop, but that square shape in the sweatshirt pocket was a dead giveaway.  Miles handed me the cards and I went for the big guns.  "You can get them back from Dr. LaBatte (the principal)."

"No, no, no!  We didn't mean to do it!"  

"You know the rules."

"We won't ever do it again."

"That's what you said last time."

They kept singing and dancing.  I only knew one word.  And I must say, Dr. LaBatte looked rather gleeful when he tucked the cards in his suit pocket!  

Dead Dried Worms

You gotta love recess duty, especially when the first graders bring you an awesome collection of dead dried worms!

Wanna Split Wood?

We had three dead trees taken down in the backyard last Thursday:

 

 

That gives you a bit of a visual.  You can probably guess where we spent our weekend.  Fortunately, at least one of the trees now looks like this:

 

 

If you have any desire to split some wood and get an amazing workout this summer, we've got you covered!

 

A Year of Grays (Grace)

I've included this post from Aria's Caring Bridge site.  It was written by her mom, Jessica, and posted on March 20.  It's such a glory story.  I hope you'll take time to read it!

One year ago today I frantically called a neurological clinic because I couldn't take Aria screaming in pain any longer. COVID had just shut the world down, we were only a few days into "sheltering in place," but worse than that, something had been off with Aria for many weeks. 

 

I will forever be grateful to the scheduler who took my call, heard her screaming in the background, and coded us as an emergency so we could receive a same-day appointment. 

 

One year ago, the neurologist tried to tell me Aria had chronic migraines and possibly endocrine issues. He ordered medication  and tried to send us home.

 

One year ago today, with my knees shaking, I looked him in the eye and told him, "No." I am so grateful he heard me and sent us for an MRI immediately.

 

One year ago, I stood next to my tiny five year old as she lay in the MRI machine. She clenched her fists so hard they turned white in an effort to keep still as waves of pain washed over her. 

 

A 20 minute MRI stretched into an hour, and then longer. I turned and saw the neurologist had been called down and was earnestly looking at the computer along with the techs. 

 

And then I knew. She had a brain tumor. 

 

When the neurologist told me the news and showed me her scan, it didn't feel like a surprise, or even bad news. It felt like I was being handed a mission. 

 

As I drove Aria across town to Children's Hospital for emergency brain surgery, she innocently asked where we were going. I frantically prayed for the words to tell her what was happening in a way that would not frighten her. 

 

Oh friends, as I look back now, I can see how faithful God has been to us this year. He gave me the words then and continually guided me throughout the year. He has given Aria joy and peace and He has given me strength and perspective. A year ago He gave me the mindset that there would be no such thing as bad news, just more information to help make decisions. He gave us the insight that we would frame cancer to Aria as a grand adventure, that she is special, and that every poke and tear was a piece for her story that she could one day tell. He gave Aria optimism and bravery. There is no earthly way we could have made it through the last 365 days without Him. He carried us through. 

 

It has been a year. The worst year of our lives. The year of cancer and COVID and more stress and heartache than I could ever imagine. A year of heartache and sorrow. A year of joy and triumphs. A year of incredible provision. A year of people rushing in and lavishing us with love. A year of miracles. 

 

A year of grace. 

 

I titled this post because I didn't know then that today we would have all this knowledge on gray matter (the brain) and that the thread woven throughout the year wasn't sorrow or even strength. It was grace. ❤️

Earrings and More

You may not know this about me, but I collect earrings from every county I've been in for longer than a layover.  I have none from the Faroe Islands yet - which means maybe I just need to go back there! - but every other country is accounted for.

There are a group of first graders at lunch who are enthralled with my earrings.  They love to ask me every day where they're from.  The look of disappointment on their faces when I have to tell them a pair was made in the good old U.S. of A. is just sweet.

Today, with the U.S.A. earrings, I wore a necklace that was given to me by four girls from Madagascar.  I can not tell you how many first graders, other graders AND staff commented on how pretty my necklace was.  

When I got home, I showed Micah what I had worn today.  Her response:  "Mom, that necklace is so ugly."  I agree with Micah.  But it brought smiles!   

SPLASHMAN!!!

Today, the Y was able to double the number of swimmers in the lap pool, bringing the number of slots available up to eight.  When I got there this morning, we had three lanes with one swimmer each and a fourth lane with two water joggers.  I knew whoever number four was, that swimmer was going to swim with me.  Just a real feeling of doom, you know?  That, and I am the best swimmer AT.THAT.TIME.  Pretty sure I'm only going to hit you if you're the one swimming crooked.

Sure enough.  Big burly guy arrives.  Looks the scene over.  Chooses to swim with me.  Big burly guy can NOT swim well.  I could have given him a lot of pointers (i.e. "Don't slap the water", "Try to keep your feet under water when you kick", etc.), but at that point, I was just trying not to drown every time he passed me.  

Margaret dubbed him "Splashman" because that was truly all he did well, said he was making her nauseous, and I should take over her lane because she was leaving.

Can't wait until Wednesday!  Think I'll swim by the windows if that lane is open.  It's a little bit more challenging to swim with two in it if one is a big burly guy!  

Another One Bites the Dust!

 We discovered at lunch today that closing a school in our district for Covid is NOT based on the number of students who have Covid, but on the number of staff who are out with Covid.  We lost our third classroom in the last seven days, but we have all of our (mostly vaccinated) staff so we remain open.  Only three more days until spring break!

Emmanoel

 

For Elodie and Maurice, hope can be found in their son’s smile.

A tumor in Emmanoel's mouth cut off his airway to the point that he was passing out. At first, doctors thought their son just had malaria. But, as Emmanoel grew, so did the tumor and his breathing worsened. Eventually, Emmanoel's parents took him to the capital city in hopes of finding medical treatment. There, doctors found a tumor growing on his palate that was slowly suffocating him. He needed surgery, but it was not a procedure that they could perform.​​​​​

Maurice and Elodie were out of options and resources, and their son was almost out of time. Now losing consciousness several times a day, they feared that, eventually, Emmanoel would pass out and not wake up again.

Between sleepless nights at home, Maurice worked in a shipping port. One day, he noticed a ship arrive that was unlike any he’d ever seen before — one with a hospital onboard. Emmanoel’s parents rushed the young boy to the Mercy Ships medical screening as soon as they were able. They waited in a line of more than 7,000 other people also waiting to be seen But before they reached the front of the line, Emmanoel passed out and required the attention of the Mercy Ships Emergency Medical Team.   With a life-threatening condition casting a shadow over his life, Emmanoel was quickly scheduled for surgery onboard the Africa Mercy.

“I don’t know how he survived this long; I really don’t,” volunteer Dr. Mark Shrime, Emmanoel’s surgeon, said during the operation. After a successful operation, young Emmanoel could finally breathe with ease, as well as laugh, and now has hope for a bright future!

Thankful Thursday!

 Disclaimer:  This post will not give you all the information you want to know.

Today I am so thankful that I have found a new way to do some cardio exercise, in addition to my standard swimming, biking and walking.  I'm not quite ready to share what it is as I've only done it twice so far.  But both times, I was breathing heavy and sweating!  Sweating is what I've missed most about running (that and the weight loss!).  So today I am thankful for a new cardio challenge!  

In the event . . .

. . . You were losing sleep over the third component of core literacy, they are:

Reading

Writing

Word Study

We're smarter already!

Absolutely worse than herding cats . . .

 

. . . was trying to control a group of kindergartners at recess today who were bound and determined to find "leprechaun footprints".

One of the adults "in there" (as they pointed to the school), said they could find "leprechaun footprints" at recess, if only they looked!

I am absolutely positive we covered every inch of our quadrant, including the breaking up of two giant snowballs in our quest, but to no avail.

We found dog prints.  We found cat prints.  We found shoe prints of all sizes, but we did not find any leprechaun footprints.

May your St. Patty's Day be more fruitful than mine!

Not quite . . .

Mrs. Bakke asked our fifth graders today, "What are the three components of core literacy?"

The response:  "Reading, writing and highlighting!"

Hmmm . . . not quite, but it sure gave us a chuckle as Mrs. Bakke is always saying, "Use your writing tools.   Get out a pencil and a highlighter."  

More CPR!

 For the second Saturday in a row, I taught CPR.  Last week was at the Y, this week at ISD 196 Black Hawk.  Can I just say that I totally enjoyed both classes?

Last week I was able to train in Marissa who had never taught before.  She was a delight to work with.

This week, it was just a fun group of women in three different classes, save one.  

She walked into CPR for the Professional Rescuer and said, "I can't get on the ground."

Me:  "You will need to be on the ground in order to do CPR."

She:  "I have arthritis in my knees."

Me:  "I have knee pads for you to kneel on."

She:  "You don't understand.  My knees hurt."

What I want to say and what I actually said at this point were two totally different things.  With as much grace and tact as I could . . .

Me:  "If you can't get on the ground to do CPR, I can't pass you in this class."

She:  "My husband said you would do accommodations."

Me:  "I wish you would have called our office.  If you can't get on the ground to do CPR, I can't pass you in this class."

She left. 

Tresor

 

Young Tresor began to suffer from bilateral cataracts which caused him to struggle with reading, writing, and even walking.

His mother, Larissa, was devastatedthat her son was losing his vision at such a young age. Tresor’s mother worried for her son, afraid that the cataracts might cause him to struggle his entire life.  Unable to afford surgery to remove his cataracts, Larissa said she felt paralyzed. “I wondered, will he become a burden? Will he always need to be assisted? It wasn’t easy for me to think of him that way.”

Thankfully, Larissa found hope after hearing about a hospital ship in her country. Larissa brought Tresor to be examined, and before long, he was boarding the Africa Mercy for pediatric eye surgery. Despite any initial fears, the quick, 20-minute procedure was a success!    Because of the medical intervention he received at Mercy Ships, Tresor could see clearly and was quickly able to jump back to regular life. In just a matter of weeks, he was back in school writing, reading, and playing without anything holding him back.

“He can write perfectly now. It’s my joy because I want him to be successful and to be able to do better than I did. I want a better life for my child than I had,” Larissa said. “Now, I’m full of joy, and grateful that Mercy Ships came and gave healing to my child. I’m so happy!”

Thankful Thursday! It's a Three-fer!

THANKFUL THURSDAY #1:  Without a doubt, this brought the biggest smile to my face today!  I am the parent of a peanut/tree nut free child who spent all of her elementary years and middle school years at the peanut free table, a lot of it alone.  

We have a sweet little first grader at OHE who has been sitting, not just alone at the peanut free table, but alone in his long row of tables, with his class across the room.  Yesterday, I asked that all important questions, "Why can't we move his class over to the row of tables adjacent to the peanut free table so they can all sit together?"  

We moved his class today.  His smile radiated across the lunchroom.  His joy was contagious.  He was so excited to sit with his class!  Even though he remains on the peanut free table, his fellow classmates are now in talking distance.  Glorious!

 

THANKFUL THURSDAY #2:  Sonny Boy came home last night, rather excited.  He was asked at work yesterday to be an assistant manager this summer at Como Park.  That's a two position jump and he said, "Yes!".  He'll be working morning hours with a major pay raise.  I am thankful for this new opportunity he's been given!  

 

THANKFUL THURSDAY #3:  All week long, I've been thankful that I can pray.  

A friend asked me to pray for a family situation, and while it wasn't the outcome I was praying for, she assured me it was the next best choice.  I was grateful I could stand with them.  

One of Sam's MWS coworkers has her four-year old daughter in ICU with (you're going to love this diagnosis!) a "mysterious illness".  I've been praying for that girl since birth and am grateful that I can stand in the gap for her.

Another of Sam's MWS coworkers has a husband fighting his second bout of cancer.  While the prognosis is good regarding survival, he's potentially going to have major bowel and bladder issues.  I'm praying for a miracle.  God doesn't have to do a miracle.  But that's what I'm going to ask Him for.   

Another friend has been quite ill, unable to walk.  We continue to pray for him.  Yesterday's note brought hope.  We pray for healing.

Thankful.  Grateful.  That I can pray.

Thankful Thursday!

Lakeville has already closed two different schools for two weeks each due to Covid outbreaks, so we try really hard at recess and lunch to make sure students stay in their clearly marked out specific areas.  We all understand the struggles the kinders have, but the fifth graders?  Really?

Today I was most thankful for the team I work with as we butted heads with a couple of very stubborn and rebellious fifth graders.  I even managed to use a term I haven't used in years - "deliberate act of disobedience".  Hello.  They knew what they were doing.  And they received consequences fitting their (poor) choices.

How do you . . .

. . . find a contact in the swimming pool?  Impossible!  The good news is that's the first one I've ever lost while swimming.  The bad news is driving home was a bit challenging!  The good news is I was going opposite traffic.  The bad news is I'm down a contact!  Oh, well . . . 

Fist Fight!

The kinders provided the WRONG entertainment for the fifth graders at lunch yesterday.  The fifth graders were sitting by the lunch room windows overlooking the playground.  And right there under the basketball hoop, we had a fist fight going!  The person in charge?  Totally oblivious. Until I got on my walkie talkie from the lunchroom and said, "There's a fist fight going on right under the basketball hoop."

Arg . . .

"My hands are cold . . ."

 That's what the little kindergarten girl told me.  I replied, "Put your hands in your pockets."  She replied, "I can't.  That's where my mittens are."