Thirteen Reasons Why

This is one of those books that I first heard about from a student. And then another. And then another. I bought my copy and sat down to see what the fuss was all about. After all, it's a book about suicide, but was being discussed with enthusiasm and excitement, emotions that are hardly associated with such a sensitive issue. But after hearing the same reviews from colleagues, I knew I didn't want to wait any longer.

This is the story about a boy, Clay, who has a package arrive at his house and opens it to find seven tapes. Upon finding a place to listen to them, he discovers that the voice is recognizable - it is the voice of a classmate, Hannah, who killed herself several weeks earlier. She is explaining that if the tapes arrived at the listener's house, it is because he had something to do with her decision. The rest of the book is a mixture of Hannah's voice on the tapes and Clay's journey with her to the places that were significant. He has his memories mixed with hers, shares many of her opinions and learns things about his classmates that changes his viewpoint of them.

Suicide is undeniably one of the most sensitive issues to base a book on. I really did have many doubts about this book, but after reading, I can say in all honesty that is truly depicts the conflicts in quite possibly one of the most socially challenging times - high school, and helps the readers understand what kind of an impact one person can have on another. Since I got copies of this book in my room, I could not keep them there for long. Some may have hesitations that this would encourage suicide or depict it in a positive light, but that's not it at all. This book would open all kinds of discussion between parents and kids, has depth and is written beautifully.

Spelling matters

From a student -

"She was the most beautiful angle I had ever seen."

I'm not a math person but I know some people are. I just didn't know it could be this passionate.

Bountiful Peaches and Strawberries

I had plenty of strawberries and peaches left over from last week's Bountiful Basket and we got more today. So I needed a way to get rid of them faster than we had been doing. After a quick google search, I found this...


The recipe can be found here.

My Summer Reading List

This is a huge list, but I like to aim high - some fluff, some that I need to read before teaching a new class next year and some that I've been meaning to read for at least a year. I'll review them as fast as I can get them read, and chances are decent that there will be other candy books I slip in because I want to and I'm the boss of me and can do things like that. :)

Perks of Being a Wallflower

City of Glass (3)

What I saw and how I lied

Poisonwood Bible

Great and Terrible Beauty (3)

The Red Tent

Harry Potter (7)

Fablehaven (5)

Kite Runner

The Help

Dracula

Cold Sassy Tree

My Sister’s Keeper

19 Minutes

Bel Canto

Life of Pi

Pride and Prejudice

In the Lake of the Woods

Princess of the Midnight Ball

River Secrets

Forest Born

Love in the Time of Cholera

In the Time of Butterflies

Ethan Frome

Mythology

The Art of Racing in the Rain

Why I'm Lucky

I suppose these kinds of posts tend to just show up when it is an anniversary or birthday, but today I felt inspired. I am married to my best friend in the whole world. He makes me laugh all the time, but even more than that, he lets me be me, supports me and helps me. He encourages me to keep going, keep achieving, keep discovering what I'm passionate about.

Some of you may not know, but Enoch is in charge at our house in the mornings. I have to be at work just shortly after the kids wake up (if they are awake yet) and Enoch takes on the task of getting them dressed, hair done, breakfast, teeth brushed, backpacks together and out the door. He is a superb listening ear and will let me vent to him even when I've had a bad day, frustrating meeting or teens that have pushed me to the brink of sanity.

His support doesn't just extend to me. Every year he either coaches or takes an active role in assisting coaches with our kids teams. He knows how to motivate and inspire the kids, teach them correct ideas and quality values and have lots of fun doing it.

He is the priesthood holder in our family and I'm constantly amazed at the perspective he has with our kids. He encourages discipline and for the kids to learn individual responsibility, but not only that, he is supportive of me as a parent and requires respect from the kids toward me.

Enoch is hard working (economy aside). He is a perfectionist and will not settle for a product that isn't the quality work he is accustomed to completing. He has great personal skills when interacting with his customers and manages situations that would have my anger level in the red with calm, even if he isn't feeling that calm on the inside. I wish I had his ability to just blow things off, forget them, move on and disregard.

He's not perfect. Neither am I. But I'm really happy that our imperfections seem to work together, that we communicate like we do and can work out our problems. I have had some difficult issues this year due to a number of circumstances, but I know, always, that when I need Enoch to be there, he will be there.

He is absolutely my dream guy.

ER with Kids

I have been to the ER a few times. My first was when I was in 7th grade and the front tire of my bike caught the back tire of my friend's bike. I caught air for a while, but what goes up must come down and I did. On a curb. With my right knee.

I sat in the ER for probably three hours before they got to me because they were dealing with a mock disaster and taking care of fake patients. At that point, the numbing effect of the adrenaline was starting to wear off and my knee hurt. I think they waited until it really hurt to bring me in and take care of me, at which point they injected the open knee with six shots of anesthesia. I still remember the moment as the first time I figured out my mind could scream.

I went to the ER as a spouse when Enoch walked into a hurricane strap (big piece of metal that sticks out of the foundation on a house) during a blinding snow storm. With his face. Again, it took a while for them to figure out how to get someone in to fix his face until it was REALLY swollen and much more difficult that a prompt stitching would have been. He wears the scar with pride.

I went to the ER again about six years ago when a pregnancy with a few complications was clearly being terminated by my body but the process was making it impossible for me to maintain consciousness. This was a shorter stint in the ER because of the whole blacking out anytime I wasn't completely horizontal thing. They really paid attention to me then.

I was in the ER again a few years ago with extraordinary abdominal pain. Enoch thought my appendix had ruptured and I had 24 hours before I would be dead. The Dr. thought I was having gall bladder problems, eventhough I told him over and over the pain was not that high. Ruptured ovarian cysts. They suck. Worse than having babies. Trust me.

I had the worst/best experience in the ER two days ago. Will was playing kickball at PE, tried to steal 2nd base but the other team had a player on the baseline - a fact Will discovered after his right temple hit the other kid's head. He was okay, ate lunch, no problems, then had headaches so strong he dropped to his knees and started crying. After some calls, I finally got in touch with Enoch, who went to pick him up. Will started screaming every 15-20 seconds, couldn't remember who he was, didn't know who Enoch was.

To the ER.

I arrived about 10-15 minutes later to a son who kept asking for help, wanted his hand taken off and wondered when we were going to be done. I don't think he knew who I was. He had a CT scan - clear of any bleeding but indicated a bruise. Concussion.

I looked at Enoch and told him I was not leaving my boy until he left. Period. About five hours after he arrived in the ER, after he had been given morphine twice and finally got a good solid sleep, he awoke as my Will again. And I remembered how to breathe.

Why the best? Because everyone was so ready to help get him better. They took him right in, gave him a stuffed squirrel and let me follow him everywhere. I was incredibly impressed and delighted there were people who could help me get my son back, because he was erratic and irrational.

And I'm hoping that I have had my last experience as a mom in the ER. Turned out okay, but that is a life experience I'm really okay with not repeating.

My Role as a Woman

WARNING: LONG POST

Don't you love the economy? Because I do. It is a wonderful, fantastic thing that is going exactly as I wanted, and I'm so overjoyed by this experience that I'm blogging about it.

Hello. My name is Tasha. I'm overly sarcastic.

I have been having some interesting discussions lately about the role of women, how it's changing. I've even heard that it is the thing that Sandra Bullock was talking about three years ago when she started the adoption process on her new son. As much as I like her, that's not what this blog is about.

A week ago, I had the opportunity to attend a regional LDS relief society meeting with Sheri Dew as a guest speaker. If I were going to pick two women who I would consistently jump at the chance to listen to, she would be one and Mary Ellen Edmunds the other. They are women who didn't necessarily have life go the way they planned or how they were told it should. I get that. I completely relate.

Let me explain. When I was growing up, I thought mom's went to school to be smart enough to have something to fall back on if their husbands died and to be smart enough to help their kids do their homework. A GOOD wife is content to stay home with the children, may run a small business on the side to have some extra money and is so happy to be mom.

I have known since I lived in a little apartment in Orem, UT with a working husband and staying completely at home for the first time in my marriage with a baby that the role of a full time stay at home mom was not for me. I almost lost my mind several times. I'm not one who cries very much, but I was all the time. I was not at all a joy to live with and felt like I was the biggest jerk in the world that every moment with my newborn son was not fulfilling for me.

I know many AMAZING women who have complete joy in staying with their children, they feel such satisfaction in experiencing their everyday looks, discoveries, etc. I ADORE my children, am thrilled when they want to come snuggle with me, love that my girls love to do my hair, want to bake, that they want to collect everything and think they are about a cute as anyone when they are in their little costumes or uniforms performing.

But when I was doing just this, I was depressed. I felt picked on, neglected, ignored and unnecessary for anything but cooking and cleaning. I know that most women go through these periods, but I couldn't get out of it.

So now I work. I LOVE what I do for work - I really do. But with the economy, what started as a way to jointly create income and shifted to me carrying a decent amount of the burden. I'm so incredibly GRATEFUL that I have this job - I honestly don't know where we would be without it. But that at times is a burden I didn't think I'd feel. It has made me appreciate the stress that husbands often have of carrying the burden of money and still being a fully invested parent.

Back to Sheri Dew - she spoke of the importance of magnifying our role - whatever that may be. Mothers are absolutely the foundation of society and the presence of one who cares about her kids absolutely has an impact on that child. Trust me, I work with teens from all different aspects and I can always tell who has a mom that cares.

It is a difficult thing to explain to "traditionalists" that I'm carrying so much of the financial part of the relationship right now, that Enoch is a tremendous help around home, and while it hasn't shifted completely, there is somewhat of a role reversal going on right now. And, being prone to self- inflicted guilt trips, I sometimes feel like maybe I'm not the mom that everyone else is, that I'm neglecting my kids if I'm not in 100% attendance at every event of every child and volunteering in the classroom every week.

I'm learning to cut myself some slack. I don't get after Enoch if he misses part or all of a game because he's working. The kids don't come in with sad puppy eyes if he isn't at the whole thing. No one goes to bed feeling neglected if the dishes aren't washed that night, or there's still some laundry not folded and in the living room.

I'm a damn good mom. My kids all do a decent job in their games, are at or above level in school, learning how to play the piano, and know how to clean their rooms, even if they don't all the time, and know how to behave in all kinds of social situations. It's okay for me to be sane, working, providing - I can do that and still be a loving mom. My role right now isn't traditional - I don't know that it ever was intended to be. But at this point in my life - I feel satisfied, full of joy and incredibly blessed.

I feel a manifestation that the Lord is pleased with what I'm doing right now. He told me that I would have the opportunity to teach many students, both those who are of the faith and those who aren't, and that I would have a powerful impact on them, that they would remember me as one who cared about them. My ultimate goal is to have my children always know they are the tops, they are my favorite, they are my loves, life and priorities. I'm thrilled that I have a husband who is okay with that, who doesn't mind picking up the slack that may be left behind because of that (usually the dishes) and that I have a Heavenly Father who knew me well enough to let me be born at a time when I could do this and be a mom.

I am truly blessed.

Spell Check is NOT your friend

As most of you may know, I'm an English teacher. As such, I am in a position to read LOTS of papers and have discovered many typos that are not caught by spell check and very much alter the meaning. Sometimes they are just too funny to keep to myself. So, when I find them, I'm going to share them, anonymously of course.

Today's sentence.

"In eighth grade is when I first noticed my tacky cardia."

Hate those mismatched, poorly coordinated hearts...