There comes a time when you realize you've become something you never thought you'd ever be. For some it might be a "Oh my goodness I sound like my mom!" type of moment. For our family I think we've come to the realization that we are now a growing family. The kind of growing family that is dysfunctional, crazy, not with it, and blessed beyond belief. When did this realization hit us? Like today.

We decided to go to the Traditional Latin Mass in Saskatoon (again) this weekend. So Saturday night neither Becca and I could sleep. For her it was the nerves of another early morning with the kids. For me it was the nerves of another close Roughrider football game having just finished. Combined we managed a few hours of sleep. Quarter after five was not well appreciated. But up we got. Slowly. Dazed and confused. A road breakfast was cooked up. Kids were prepared. Joseph, in as good as mood as any for being up so early, said: "I like getting up early and watching the sunset!" Close enough, Joseph. The van was packed. We scrambled to get out of the house just in time so that the 2 hour and 15 minute drive would take us to the 9am Mass on time. As we pulled out onto the highway, the beautiful fall morning unveiling before our eyes, we couldn't fight the thought of: "We're crazy for doing this. We're crazy for doing this."

Of course we hit every light along the way. Also, a train delayed us as we watched it, in disbelief, back up and go forward several times on the track covering the road. "Well that was weird," was about all we could say. We just made it to Mass on time. It was a low Mass with a priest who just arrived from Nigeria. He has been filling in at the Latin Mass for the past month. He began his homily by humbly explaining how wonderful it has been for him to come say the Mass there in such a reverent and quiet setting for the past month. The Traditional Latin Mass does something to priests. In a good way.

Mass unfolded, as Masses do. Sunday is a day of the Resurrection. John Paul, in keeping with the theme, emptied the tomb, if you know what I mean, during the Mass. We hung on until Mass ended. I didn't get up at 5:15 and drive all that way only to have to leave during the consecration, darn it! How I wish we had attended a High Mass, with lots of incense. Lots and lots of incense. Instead, we were supplied with John Paul's. After Mass and a lighting of a votive candle I took the boy out to the van to be changed, since the basement and bathrooms were inundated with the parish's usual post-Mass coffee/snack session. I hunched over uncomfortably in the van. I dared not open the door since we were in a rough area of town, and didn't need any added attention. The van became a hot and sweaty box of tear inducing odour. I may or may not have passed out in the operation. But on we went. Tiredness is a funny thing. That is, you don't really feel like yourself. Whatever. We finished. Back to the church to hang out with our friends.

We left the church and gave John Paul his bottle filled with juice. By the time we arrived at a Subway we noticed his bottle was empty and John Paul was soaking wet! Arrgh. No change of clothes either. Whatever, it'll dry. So we went and ate. Afterwards we went to a mall to do the forbidden Sunday shopping thing. In our defense, Joseph needs hockey socks and our small town doesn't sell anyway. No choice in the matter. But that's all we bought. We did lounge around the mall for a while, trying to kill a little time before we left Saskatoon. When we got back to the van we noticed John Paul was really wet. Like soaked. Even Becca and I, who had carried him around a bit, were a little damp. What the heck! How much juice did he spill!?! This was crazy. Becca suggested I pull off his pants to let them dry. He could make the drive in only his diaper. I started pulling his pants off. Curse these tight-fitting clothes. Every time I kept pulling them down, the diaper seemed to come down with them. I tried again. Same result. This was getting ridiculous. I looked over at Becca with a tired frustration. She looked at me with horror: "He doesn't have a diaper on." "What?!?" My immediate thought was to ask why not, but then remembered I had changed him last, so there was only one thing I could say: "Well I put one on him! Don't ask me how it got off! Was it Joseph?" Becca didn't buy it. I guess it's come to the point where I'm that dad. The one who is so tired that he forgets to put a diaper on a kid. So we had pee all over us. So what. John Paul ended up getting a brand new pair of pants in the whole deal. Sunday shopping or no Sunday shopping. "If your ox falls in a well"... and all that stuff. And Becca... let's just say that if she ever forgets to put a diaper on a kid... I'll tease her to no end! So there! Yeah. Watch out. You'll be sorry you ever mocked one honest mistake. I repeated to her the horror of the situation when I was changing him. The stench. The lack of oxygen. The uncomfortable positioning. I was a hero really. I didn't see her there! Nursing a baby is easy! How about a little sympathy here. To no avail. Apparently changing a diaper requires that the old one be, what's the word, changed for a new one. Details.

We hit the road and stopped in Melfort for the pro-life walk, exhausted though we were. After the walk, and supper, we won a prize for having the second largest family there. I stared in disbelief. "Has it come to this..." I thought in a zoned out mind. "We're now getting to be one of the largest families around.?" Not at a vibrant Latin Mass parish, mind you. But certainly in a small and faith-dead community such as Melfort. But most parishes cannot fathom the connection between tradition within liturgy and large families, versus aging hippy liturgies and small families. We had the second largest family there. It didn't help that during the trip several times Becca talked about what sort of vehicles hold the most passengers.

We arrived home. The kids, especially John Paul, were given much needed baths. We snacked, brushed teeth, and prepared for bed. Joseph, a little annoyed that he was being called to have his teeth brushed, spouted out: "Why doesn't Emilie ever have to get her teeth brushed?" "Because she doesn't have teeth, Joseph." "Oh."

A quick book and then bed. We're tired. We're crazy. And this is the new life. We are so blessed. Diapers and all.

Or even no diapers and all.

3 Months

If we had to sum Emilie up in one word, it would be SWEET! She is just the sweetest little girl. God really knew what He was doing when He gave us Emilie. 

We all sing Emilie her songs. John Paul likes to sing the first line of Dan's own composition, "The captain went to town..." over and over. Joseph sings whatever Coldplay song he has on his mind (that kid knows all the lyrics to everything!). Our favourite, and hers, is by and far O Emilie! Like I said, it's sung to O Christmas Tree and goes like this: "Oh, Emilie, you are so sweet, you are the one I want to eat..."

I've regularly commented on just how "good" she is over the past few months. Not that we pick favourites, not at all (I'm not joking, either), but Emilie has been a much easier baby than our boys ever were. And apparently she is normal! I'm completely floored. 

Emilie smiles all. the. time. She wakes up in the morning and as you pick her up and say "Hello, sweetheart!" or whatever, she is already smiling with her eyes blinking and half open. John Paul was rocking an unbuckled Emilie in her chair the other day (yes, I'd already told him to stop) when she very nearly tipped out. I yelled, John Paul looked in horror, and Emilie fell back into the chair gently with a huge smile on her face, little knowing what danger she had been in. 

We were commenting just the other night that it took Joseph a long, long time to smile or laugh much as a baby; John Paul slightly less. They both had colicky issues and I believe Emilie would too if it wasn't for going off dairy (which I did for the boys as well). But she has been smiling and now laughing much more than they ever did. She has so many family members happy to entertain and love on her all the time, that she is just such a joyful baby! I'm convinced: every baby needs a sibling.

The boys just dote on her. Joseph asks frequently after we've returned from somewhere, "Did people want to look at her, Mom?" He is such a proud big brother. When acquaintances at church in Nipawin smiled and came to see her, he was so happy everyone thought just as much of his sister as he does. And he has a special little relationship with Emilie. He talks with her when I'm busy, sings to her, and is able to keep her happy even when she's waiting impatiently for her next meal. 

At three months, Emilie is a good 13-14lbs, chubby, and drooling or sucking her fingers like crazy. She sports an ample double chin, wide girth, and droopy cheeks, bright dark-blue laughing eyes and the cutest little lips. "Chubby" might not be a fad for most of the world, nor drool in good taste, but it's super cute on babies. 

We are so smitten. She is so loved.

Hanging out with Daddy at night...

Chatting with her 5-month-old cousin, Oliver...

Entertaining the whole family with her first little giggles...

Kid Quotes: Small Talk

When you have a chatty two year old with a mind of his own it's important to have a pen and paper handy. Here are more Kid Quotes:


John Paul, picking up a long piece of red hair off the ground: "Here Mommy, this is your hair... Put it on your head."

- - -

John Paul: "I have to buy some money!"

- - -

John Paul, taking out some paper and crayons: "I'm making a card for me cause I need one."

- - -

Daddy is in the basement working out with the boys, when a certain odour arises: "John Paul, go upstairs and ask Mommy to change your diaper."

*John Paul leaves reluctantly*

John Paul upstairs: "Mommy... can you say no?"

Mommy: "Um... no...  ?"

John Paul goes downstairs to Daddy: "Mommy said no, so I will stay down stairs."

- - -

John Paul, squatting: "I have no lap either Mommy!"

Mommy: "I have a lap again because Emilie is born."

John Paul: "Well I will have to buy a lap."

- - -

Daddy, after Communion: "Who do you want to pray for?"

John Paul: "Mommy's baptism."

Daddy: "You can't pray for Mommy's baptism. Who do you want to pray for?"

John Paul: "Um, Emilie's baptism."

So we said a Hail Mary for Emilie's baptism, which was over two months earlier.

- - -

John Paul hands Mommy his shoe to put on for him and says in a funny voice:

"Thank you....     ... My shoe is saying thank you to my hand for holding it."

- - -

It's not all John Paul, though:

Joseph, wondering aloud: "Do you think Emilie is going to talk English or French when she gets older?"

Our little goofers.

Headline: Alberta/ NWT Bishops Cause Heart Attacks

One thing that has bothered me is how bishop conferences, including our CCCB, will take a Papal document, rewrite it, and then present it to people as Church teaching. I mean, why not just tell people to read the Papal document? We saw this on the 40th anniversary of Humanae Vitae. Just, just... read Humanae Vitae. If anything, there should have been a letter from the CCCB apologizing for the Winnipeg Statement. But that's me waiting for such a letter:

I literally had a sinking feeling in my stomach as I saw a link yesterday to a document from the Alberta/NWT bishops regarding Communion for divorced and civilly remarried people. So I opened up the document and started skim reading. What could go wrong? Oh boy... Well, the document tackled Pope Francis' disastrous exhortation: Amoris Laetitia, paragraph 8. Oh boy indeed. Of course Amoris Laetitia is as vague as it gets, the type of writing that would earn any university student a failing grade, yet because of its vagueness many see it as an opportunity to give Communion to divorced and civilly remarried folks (who objectively speaking, are living in a grave situation contrary to the teaching of Christ). The swirling controversy of the past week has been a leaked letter whereby Pope Francis approves of such an interpretation of his Amoris Laetitia.

And then, surely by God's grace, the Alberta/NWT bishops did the unthinkable. They presented a clear, concise, and orthodox document. For example:

"It may happen that, through media, friends, or family, couples have been led to understand that there has been a change in practice by the Church, such that now the reception of Holy Communion at Mass by persons who are divorced and civilly remarried is possible if they simply have a conversation with a priest. This view is erroneous."

Or further regarding conscience, which is often used as a license to sin:

"Conscience is the capacity to judge what is to be done in a given circumstance in obedience to objective truth. It needs to be carefully and patiently formed (cf. Veritatis Splendor, 54- 64)." 

Well done Western bishops! They should be commended for their work. Clarity of truth is a beautiful thing. I believe God will bless it. They may have shocked a few people into having a heart attack, but we'll take it.

On the other hand, we're now left with a very unique situation. We now have it that it is far preferable for Catholics in Canada to read a document produced by their bishops, versus what the Pope has published. A flip of script. Does that not seem bizarre? Does it not seem potentially dangerous? Not in a Protestant way. More of an Eastern Orthodox way. The Pope is responsible for his Roman flock. The bishops here will take care of their flock? Of course I exaggerate, slightly. The real need is simply for people to know the fullness of the Catholic faith, including just how much theological weight an exhortation, or even a bishop's letter, really has. In the end, the Church's teaching is clear and concise, despite what anybody says contrary to this. The splendor of truth.

Now, ahem, for the Winnipeg Statement...

We shall see.

Chequetember

The month of Chequetember has finally hit the Millette house. Our first experience of extra-curricular activities, and the money required to fund them. This is only our first child...

Oh well, he sure is proud of his new equipment!

First Week of School (Plus Photo Dump & Videos)

We had a nice little Labour Day Monday walk in our favourite little spot in Tisdale. We used to walk the trails every summer night when we had just Joseph. Then, we walked once or twice a week when John Paul was little. Now, with baby Emilie, this was our first time out there as a family and we drove the van over to the parking lot and took it from there. Hopefully we can make it again this fall. It's beautiful! And we love throwing rocks into the water!

The boys are all eating apples in the above picture. We've had an overflow of apples this fall. I canned 60+ jars of applesauce with the help of an amazing attachment for my KitchenAid mixer. Our neighbour's apple tree is loaded with little apples perfect for munching (we were given first dibs!) and a co-worker of Dan's recently dropped off two more bags of apples. The boys and I made apples pies yesterday and Dan is peeling and cutting the rest while watching the football game. Great year!

We had a great first week of school! I've decided to do school Monday-Thursday mornings and take Fridays off for getting stuff done, art/science projects, or visiting and field-trips. On Friday morning, Joseph had other ideas. "I don't want to take today off, so today we're going to play hockey for school. Can you come play hockey with me, Mom?"

The first day of school also found a dream come to reality for Joseph. Dan took the training-wheels off his bike. Truthfully, we could probably have taken them off a few days or a week after putting them on back in May or June. Joseph rode flawlessly and fast.

Little Emilie has been entertaining us with her chit chat of late. We caught this little video of Emilie chatting to a video of herself this week.

And just because I know you're dying to see a whole bunch more pictures...

The boys all decked out in Rider gear for their backyard practice: 

The kids were looking dapper and matchy for Mass recently, so I attempted a photo session. At least 30 pictures and no "perfect" one.

And sweet, sweet Emilie! We have a song for her. It goes: "Oh Emilie, you are so sweet, you are the one I want to eat!" to the tune of O Christmas Tree.

1st Day of Kindergarten

Joseph started Kindergarten this year. Homeschool style :)

He has been so excited to start school. All last week he went around smiling and begging: "Can't I start school now?" "Can't we do math now?" But in typical 5-year-old fashion, the first day of school finally arrived and he played it real cool: "I don't want to do reading. Awww!"

However, he enjoyed himself. A lot. Stories. Reading/sound practice. Number practice. A craft. A sticker chart. First day of school pictures. He wanted to do school all day long.

Joseph has been really eager to learn letters. He can recognize nearly the whole upper-case alphabet and writes most upper-case letters either completely on his own or tracing. 

Numbers and math haven't been as much of an interest for him, but he is eager to learn more. We discovered recently that he was getting 6 and 9 mixed up. One day of Kindergarten seems to have fixed that. Just a little work with flash card numbers and watching me make a number 1-100 chart and he's catching on really fast. He's done a little bit of work with patterns and such before, but it's still a challenge for him. 

Like a boy, his enthusiasm comes and goes. The goal is to keep this year fun and to instill a love for learning. I can't wait to see how he progresses!

 Kindergarten

Height: 3ft. 6in.

Favourite colour: red and white and blue

("like the Montreal Canadiens")

Favourite subject: recess

Most excited to do this year: hockey

Future occupation: "a hockey player"

-------------------------------------------------------------------

John Paul would not be outdone. He wanted to get in on all the letter sounds for reading and counting numbers. While his memory is great, letter/number recognition is a little lacking. And he often calls red, green. Hmmm, his parents might need a phone call ;) I'm quite certain being a younger sibling is a huge advantage and that John Paul is going to learn so much this year by watching and listening. 

Toddler

Height: 2ft. 9in.

Favourite colour: red

(funny, since we're wondering if he's colour blind to red; he most often calls it green)

Future occupation: "I'm playing football after hockey"

What's in a Name? Pt. IV

I'm entering my fifth year at the school, and fourth as a prep coverage teacher. I teach well over 200 students. By now I'm used to the unusual names. But the spelling... everyone needs to be unique. Here's the fourth entry for What's in a Name?

First off, we have our religious names. Yes, they're probably meant as being more hippy than religious, but we'll stick with the religious theme. We have Harmony, and her wonderful sister Serenity. We have theological virtues too! Faith is important. But Faith seldom shows up. Faith needs to come to school. Love is a great little girl, but I still cringe at calling her Love. Sadly we do not have a Hope in our school. And what would the religious theme be without Trinity.

Then we just have a mish mash. Daz, Kael, and Laiden sound kind of cool. Nixon still makes me shake my head. Nixon?! We have country stars Paisley and Shelten, but no Garth or Hank. Ezmera, Hazen, Taiven, Aydrea, Breckin, Ruger, and Genya. I just sort of guess how to say their names. Others, you can have more fun with. Let's build a story...

The Deakan, a former Saylor, took a Jett in the pouring Summer Raine to Foster a Chanse at fighting Isis because he wanted to Cache in on more Merit.

Oh I could go on. But honestly, by year five I am starting to get numb to these names. What shocks me more is that I now teach a George and a Ralph. The two most unique names in the school, if you ask me. Well. Almost. I teach a True. yes, a True. Better than a False (although I'm sure that'll be next, those rebel parents). True is not Vietnamese. Just... True. 

The Working Mom and the Most Important Job

I have spoken to a number of local moms recently whose babies just celebrated their first birthday and who are now headed back to work as their maternity leave ends.

Some of these moms decided to work part-time to be able to still be home with their young children some days. When all was settled, their particular work schedule ended up being half-days and they still have to pay full-day childcare to save their child's daycare spot, whether the child is there all day or not. But this means, say the moms, they will be able to do groceries, clean house, get a massage, or run errands while still having their children in daycare on those afternoons they are required to pay for.

When all is said and done, they won't actually be making much money at work. By the time you have two children in full-time daycare, it's a lot more difficult for any job to make considerable income over and above expenses.

So, why do these moms work?

Some moms have to work. I get that. Some families need two incomes to survive.

But the moms I'm talking about, the ones I know in our small rural town? Many don't need to work to contribute to their family income. Their husbands are well-off farmers, accountants, oil workers, chiropractors. Yet the daycares are numerous and full.

These moms work because they "need a break" from their kids and believe their kids need a break from them too, or to afford their expensive homes, campers, designer kids' clothes, and winter vacations, or because they want a social life and it's easily found in their workplace.

I'm not here to make all the disclaimers about how some women and kids do actually need those breaks, that social life, or that people can choose what they value as important and where they spend their money. I'm not here to say SAHM moms are better than working moms or do a better job at mothering. I want to make another proposition.

When we first moved to Tisdale, I asked around to find a mom's group, thinking it would be an easy way to make friends for me and my children. I discovered that there were no groups. None at all. At the time, the only group for children not in preschool was a library story-time and even that was full of children from the daycare/preschool in the same building. It took me a long time to meet any other moms.

(We now have an early childhood education program for children that parents participate in and a moms and tots group at one of the local churches, but it took a couple years for these to emerge.)

But at the time, I wondered, where are all the moms? Working.

I can't speak for all small towns, but I believe ours is especially geared towards moms returning to work after maternity leave and their children to childcare. And I often wonder why?

A few months back, I read a comment from a homeschooling mom that stuck with me. She said she was happily homeschooling because she believed she was doing something she could do better than anyone else and that gave her pride and joy. Now, it doesn't matter whether you agree or not that homeschooling her children was something she could do better than anyone else. The point is, she believed that and gave it her all.

I think the same principle can be applied to mothering. It's nothing new that women desire affirmation: to be told they're beautiful, to be complimented on a delicious meal or a well-ordered home, or admirable children. We want to know we're doing well, or better, that we're doing the best. job. ever.

But when it comes to work and employment? Our society fails women, specifically mothers.

We are often led to believe that it's better for us to be employed: it empowers us, we contribute to society, we have a social life and influence. And although we're told that it's completely up to us what we choose for our young children as far as childcare, the pressure is there for children to get ready for school with organized preschool, and to make friends through preschool programs. We are often led to believe that it is better for our children to be away from us because they will be better prepared for life and happier with their peers.

But what if we told a woman that being a stay-at-home mom and caring for her babies, toddlers, and preschoolers was something she could do better than anyone else? What if we really believed that? What if mothers really believed that?

Because, you know what? I really believe that mothers can care for their young children better than anyone else. Religious talk about how God gave us mothering hearts and our specific children aside. Mothers are meant to be mothers. Children need their mothers when they are young. Period.

(Yes, kids need their dads too. And yes, stay-at-home dads can be great!)

But our society doesn't believe childcare is the most important job of mothers or certainly doesn't support it. Our previous Conservative government was consistently accused of wanting to keep women in the home and flatly denied this repeatedly, saying payments like the UCCB were to help families make childcare decisions for themselves (which I strongly agree with). But what if they did say that they wanted to keep women in the home? What if they said that they believe raising their young children is the most important job of a mother and that it is something she can do better than anyone else?

What if we all said and believed that?

I think there would be a lot more and better mom's groups and support for the SAHM. I think moms would have a great social life, still be able to "take a break" and get a massage if need be. I think moms might be happier, might be less stressed and overworked, might enjoy their time with their preschool-aged kids more.

Maybe it's a stretch. But then again maybe not. If we really believed staying home to care for their young children was something moms could do better than anyone else and if we told them so, I think more moms would be willing to try it and might discover that their most important job could be their full-time job.

Somebody is 5

Five years ago this night, the Friday of the September long-weekend, just 40 minutes or so before midnight in Ontario, Joseph came into this world pooping, peeing, and then screaming his lungs out. He put his Dad through a harrowing drive through rush-hour, long-weekend traffic on the 403 and QEW highways to the hospital and his Mom through some hours of crazy-painful labour and pushing to get him out.

He has forever changed our lives.

Today, we celebrated his fifth birthday: 

Blueberry pancakes for breakfast that he cut with his own knife (first time! and so exciting!). Little did I realize that after I gave him that knife, he now thinks he'll get one for all his food because he's so grown up!

An exciting story-card made by Daddy (the morning sun glowed on the pages, making the magic of it a reality as Daddy read)...

The Montreal Canadiens were in trouble with so many players injured by those dirty Red Wings (boy, was Grandpa Millette mad when he read that book). They needed help, badly. Gretzky? No, someone better. But who? 

Carey Price gets an idea: Joseph! He's been practicing. He can do the job. But Bettman says he's too young, only 4, and you have to be 5. No, Price corrects him, Joseph is turning 5! 

The Canadiens have a huge turnaround. They win the Cup. They're a dynasty! All thanks to Joseph.

A present from Mommy and Daddy

Is LEGO wrapping paper a dead giveaway?? Apparently, it doesn't take away from the excitement. An ambulance rescue plane. The rest of the day was spent building and playing with his new set. One of Joseph's recent achievements is successfully following LEGO instructions and building his own sets. To say he's pretty pumped about the whole thing is an understatement. This is a boy's dream birthday!

A nap. Yes, he had a nap. Mommy ordered it. It was needed and he came out refreshed and ready for more fun and more LEGO.

 

Out for supper at a restaurant.

A gift from Grandpa and Grandma Millette.

Grandpa told Joseph it was a great big Barbie doll. Haha! This boy knew better. An NHL, Gary Bettman approved set of hockey nets and mini-sticks. They spent the evening playing hockey and steaming up our house with their sweat. We even put the boys in the shower before bed they were so sticky.

 A birthday cake. It was a hockey-themed (read: Montreal Canadiens) birthday. Joseph is SO excited to register for hockey next week and shop for gear (never mind get on the the ice and actually play!). He keeps telling us, "I am SO excited! When can we buy my equipment?!"

You noticed John Paul looks terribly sad? He was. At Joseph's friend party the day before, in his excitement at seeing cupcakes and candles, John Paul blew them all out before "Happy Birthday" was finished. Not wanting to repeat the incident, Joseph held out one arm tonight keeping John Paul at a distance. All he wanted was a good look at the cake, but it was not to be. We have another picture of me trying to pick John Paul up for a better look, but he is mad and sad. We did end up relighting candles so he could have a go at them too. But the whole incident was pretty funny. They'll be good fighters when they play hockey.

Five! Joseph is passionate and fiery when defending his Canadiens, sweet when singing to his baby sister, bossy when directing and correcting his brother, cuddly and loving when he curls up for a book, sensitive when he's processing sadness and pain, and chatty and loud pretty much all the time. He's a great kid and we're so happy he came to change our lives forever. What more can I say?

First Day of School

Today was the first day of school. That's me leaving in the morning. No, Joseph was not coming with me. He's, er, going to school elsewhere. I'll let Becca explain later.

After three days of teacher meetings, which I believed are designed to drive teachers so nuts that they actually want school to start (just to get the meetings over with), away we went.

How was it? Oh the usual. For the first half hour the school was flooded with parents trying to find their child's classroom. Then, because I'm scheduled to teach in 30 minute chunks, I proceeded to teach six morning classes in a row (with the exception of a shortened recess). By first recess my voice was shot. I was then emailed an updated gym schedule, which messed up my plans for the rest of the day, so I had to make it up on the fly. Room numbers were switched on me, as were teachers whom I cover. Schedules basically meant nothing. New students trickled in. The bell wasn't working. Then it was. Then the time it rang was changed, a few times. Then it rang at random times. Then the sound of the bell changed. Our new keys we were given didn't work on most doors. I was stuck outside with a class for a while. I was called to the office to receive hot off the press updated court orders regarding two of my students and a current custody battle. The RCMP showed up too, just to check on the situation. The grade two phys ed classes I taught were nuts. I don't know if any of these kids have been told "no" all summer. One kid blew up because he was told to jump over something. You're gonna have a fun life, kid. The afternoon was more of the same. Mix in some computers and projectors not working. More winging it. Crosswalk patrol was busy, and a student helper didn't show up. I'm tired. Why do I do this?

A typical first day of school. Of course as I dropped off another class to go and find my next group I was promptly given the biggest hug by a little girl in grade two. I wonder what her name is? She told me that I was the "best gym teacher ever!" Then I was mobbed by another ten little kids all rushing to give me a hug.

See you tomorrow.