School, School, Vacations, More School

I have been busting my behind since August (you might be able to tell since I have not written anything on here in a long time) to attempt to get my 4.0 I have always wanted. I had no time for anything else but school. Eventually my best friends had had enough of me ignoring them and dragged me to Charleston, SC in October(the best vacation I ever took) and my family dragged me to Sea World a month later for Thanksgiving. Both of which I will be posting pictures very soon.

This week is finals and it looks as though that 4.0 is just within reach. To celebrate this achievement, whether it happens or not, I will be taking myself to dinner and possibly a movie (Happy Feet 2) with the kids and hubby. I have not spent any time with them since I started classes. With 54 hour work weeks (tax season) starting plus full time school in the mornings I will be out of the house at 7am and not home again until 11pm. I will not see them for the next four months. I am planning on spending as much time with them of this Christmas break as I can.

Keeping you posted four months at a time!

Soapsations

Hey all! There is a new link to your right be sure to "Like" it! Its my new facebook business Soapsations for the retail sale of designer all natural soap based products. Products range from small hand soaps to shampoo for dogs. Designs for soaps range from the very small to the extra large its all your choice!

Share Your Love...Not a Scam

Share Your Love for Redbox! Brickfish

The Circus Comes to Town

We attended the circus a few days ago. This is NOT your Barnum and Bailey circus. Everything was expensive! Every five minutes they were stopping the show to sell some other junk toy for two dollars. However, that said, my kids did have a good time. They liked the show and they LOVED the animals as usual. Below are some shots of the day. My favorite, Trista and Lani completely happy feeding the goats.

Algebra with a Polish Accent?

My first class of Algebra I found out that my professor is from Poland. It is rather interesting to try to understand the math and her accent at the same time. She sounds exactly like Gru from Despicable Me (Steve Carrell). She seems very nice and helpful as well so I should make it through this class with flying colors.

On a side note I passed my first test, not just passed, I zipped by it with a 122%. Did I mention that I LOVE extra credit?

Momma's Got a Brand New Ride

2009 Ford Focus

Yup, we finally broke down and bought a newer car. Its not brand new like I wanted but it was within the price range and we got a great warranty with it. I also love the interest rate on the financing. After shopping around for awhile Jim and I decided on the Focus. Its really too bad that we are such loyal Ford customers.



I love this blue color!



The Hilarity of an Office Job

If anyone has ever worked in an office loaded with cubicles and other workers, you will appreciate this literary piece a friend of mine showed me. "Orientation" is written by Daniel Orozco, it is a bit long for a blog post but totally worth the read, I promise. I have worked in an office setting just like this one for five years now and I literally "see" these people on a daily basis. Enjoy!

Those are the offices and these are the cubicles. That’s my cubicle there, and this is’t find your supervisor, ask Phillip Spiers, who’ll check with Clarissa Nicks, who sits over there. If you make an’s your Processing Analyst’s your Forms Processing Procedures Manual.’m glad you asked that. We pace our work’t get close to them, as it only makes it more difficult when’s room is over there. The women’s room is over there. John LaFountaine, who’s room occasionally. He says it is accidental. We know’s room simply a benign thrill, a faint blip on the dull flat line of his’s crayon artwork - sheet’s existence, has’t the’s left palm began to bleed. She fell into a trance,’s wife is dead. So’ll die, never talk to Anika Bloom.’s Christmas Potluck, he felt sorry for her when’t been’s nothing he can do about it, and we are’t gotten back to you.’s’n Low to sugar, there is a special pool for two-fifty a week. We do’s’s wife was’t been himself since. Barry Hacker’s wife’s’s Voicemail box, messages garbled by the electronic chirrups and buzzes in’t that a coincidence?’s office. He is our Unit Manager, and his door is always closed.’s Closet. You have no business in the Custodian’s Closet.’s office, you must be very quiet.’s door is always open to all of us. She will always lend’s room. And John LaFountaine - who, enthralled when a woman’re not supposed to know’t worry. His compulsion inflicts itself on strangers only, and’s Kiss on her desk’t it beautiful? It overlooks the park, where the’s you, waving. And look there. There’s Anika Bloom in the kitchenette,’t find your supervisor,’ll check with Clarissa Nicks. She sits

your cubicle. This is your phone. Never answer your phone. Let the Voicemail System

answer it. This is your Voicemail System Manual. There are no personal phone calls allowed.

We do, however, allow for emergencies. If you must make an emergency phone

call, ask your supervisor first. If you can

sits over there. He

emergency phone call without asking, you may be let go.

These are your IN and OUT boxes. All the forms in your IN box must be logged in by the

date shown in the upper left-hand corner, initialed by you in the upper right-hand corner,

and distributed to the Processing Analyst whose name is numerically coded in the lower

left-hand corner. The lower right-hand corner is left blank. Here

Numerical Code Index. And here

You must pace your work. What do I mean? I

according to the eight-hour workday. If you have twelve hours of work in your IN box, for

example, you must compress that work into the eight-hour day. If you have one hour of

work in your IN box, you must expand that work to fill the eight-hour day. That was a

good question. Feel free to ask questions. Ask too many questions, however, and you

may be let go.

That is our receptionist. She is a temp. We go through receptionists here. They quit with

alarming frequency. Be polite and civil to the temps. Learn their names, and invite them

to lunch occasionally. But don

they leave. And they always leave. You can be sure of that.

The men

sits over there, uses the women

better, but we let it pass. John LeFountaine is harmless, his forays into the forbidden

territory of the women

life.

Russell Nash, who sits in the cubicle to your left, is in love with Amanda Pierce, who sits

in the cubicle to your right. They ride the same bus together after work. For Amanda

Pierce, it is just a tedious bus ride made less tedious by the idle nattering of Russell

Nash. But for Russell Nash, it is the highlight of his day. It is the highlight of his life.

Russell Nash has put on forty pounds, and grows fatter with each passing month, nibbling

on chips and cookies while peeking glumly over the partitions at Amanda Pierce,

and gorging himself at home on cold pizza and ice cream while watching adult videos

on TV.

Amanda Pierce, in the cubicle to your right, has a six-year-old son named Jamie, who is

autistic. Her cubicle is plastered from top to bottom with the boy

after sheet of precisely drawn concentric circles and ellipses, in black and yellow. She

rotates them every other Friday. Be sure to comment on them.

Amanda Pierce, who tolerates Russell Nash, is in love with Albert Bosch, whose office

is over there. Albert Bosch, who only dimly registers Amanda Pierce

eyes only for Ellie Tapper, who sits over there. Ellie Tapper, who hates Albert Bosch,

would walk through fire for Curtis Lance. But Curtis Lance hates Ellie Tapper. Isn

world a funny place? Not in the ha-ha sense, of course.

Anika Bloom sits in that cubicle. Last year, while reviewing quarterly reports in a meeting

with Barry Hacker, Anika Bloom

stared into her hand, and told Barry Hacker when and how his wife would die. We

laughed it off. She was, after all, a new employee. But Barry Hacker

unless you want to know exactly when and how you

Colin Heavey sits in that cubicle over there. He was new once, just like you. We warned

him about Anika Bloom. But at last year

he saw that no one was talking to her. Colin Heavey bought her a drink. He hasn

himself since. Colin Heavey is doomed. There

powerless to help him. Stay away from Colin Heavey. Never give any of your work to

him. If he asks to do something, tell him you have to check with me. If he asks again,

tell him I haven

This is the Fire Exit. There are several on this floor, and they are marked accordingly.

We have a Floor Evacuation Review every three months, and an Escape Route Quiz

once a month. We have our Biannual fire Drill twice a year, and our Annual Earthquake

Drill once a year. These are precautions only. These things never happen.

For your information, we have a comprehensive health plan. Any catastrophic illness,

any unforeseen tragedy is completely covered. All dependents are completely covered.

Larry Bagdikian, who sits over there, has six daughters. If anything were to happen to

any of his girls, or to all of them, if all six were to simultaneously fall victim to illness or

injury - stricken witha hideous degenerative muscle disease or some rare toxic blood

disorder, sprayed with semiautomatic gunfire while on a class field trip, or attacked in

their bunk beds by some prowling nocturnal lunatic - if any of this were to pass, Larry

girls would all be taken care of. Larry Bagdikian would not have to pay one dime. He

would have nothing to worry about.

We also have a generous vacation and sick leave policy. We have an excellent disability

insurance plan. We have a stable and profitable pension fund. We get group discounts

for the symphony, and block seating at the ballpark. We get commuter ticket books for

the bridge. We have Direct Deposit. We are all members of Costco.

This is our kitchenette. And this, this is our Mr. Coffee. We have a coffee pool, into wich

we each pay two dollars a week for coffee, filters, sugar, and CoffeeMate. If you prefer

Cremora or half-and-half to CoffeeMate, there is a special pool for three dollars a week.

If you prefer Sweet

not do decaf. You are allowed to join the coffee pool of your choice, but you are not allowed

to touch the Mr. Coffee.

This is the microwave oven. You are allowed to heat food in the microwave oven. You

are not, however, allowed to cook food in the microwave oven.

We get one hour for lunch. We also get one fifteen-minute break in the morning, and

one fifteen-minute break in the afternoon. Always take your breaks. If you skip a break,

it is gone forever. For your information, your break is a privelige, not a right. If you abuse

the break policy, we are authorized to rescind your breaks. Lunch, however, is a right,

not a privelige. If you abuse the lunch policy, our hands will be tied, and we will be

forced to look the other way. We will not enjoy that.

This is the refrigerator. You may put your lunch in it. Barry Hacker, who sits over there,

steals food from this refrigerator. His petty theft is an outlet for his grief. Last New Year

Eve, while kissing his wife, a blood vessel burst in her brain. Barry Hacker

two months pregnant at the time, and lingered in a coma for half a year before dying. It

was a tragic loss for Barry Hacker. He hasn

was a beautiful woman. She was also completely covered. Barry Hacker did not have to

pay one dime But his dead wife haunts him. She haunts all of us. We have seen her,

reflected in the monitors of our computers, moving past our cubicles. We have seen the

dim shadow of her face in our photocopies. She pencils herself in in the receptionist

appointment book, with the notation: To see Barry Hacker. She has left messages in the

receptionist

the phone line, her voice echoing from an immense distance within the ambient hum.

But the voice is hers. And beneath the voice, beneath the tidal whoosh of static and

hiss, the gurgling and crying of a baby can be heard.

In any case, if you bring a lunch, put a little something extra in the bag for Barry Hacker.

We have four Barrys in this office. Isn

This is Matthew Payne

We have never seen him, and you will never see him. But he is there. You can be sure

of that. He is all around us.

This is the Custodian

And this, this is our Supplies Cabinet. If you need supplies, see Curtis Lance. He will log

you in on the Supplies Cabinet Authorization Log, then give you a Supplies Authorization

Slip. Present your pink copy of the Supplies Authorization Slip to Ellie Tapper. She

will log you in on the Supplies Cabinet Key Log, then give you the key. Because the

Supplies Cabinet is located outside the Unit Manager

Gather your supplies quietly. The Supplies Cabinet is divided into four sections. Section

One contains letterhead stationery, blank paper and envelopes, memo and note pads,

and so on. Section Two contains pens and pencils and typewriter and printer ribbons,

and the like. In Section Three we have erasers, correction fluids, transparent tapes, glue

sticks, et cetera. And in Section Four we have paper clips and push pins and scissors

and razor blades. And here are the spare blades for the shredder. Do not touch the

shredder, which is located over there. The shredder is of no concern to you.

Gwendolyn Stich sits in that office there. She is crazy about penguins, and collects penguin

knickknacks: penguin posters and coffee mugs and stationery, penguin stuffed

animals, penguin jewelry, penguin sweaters and T-shirts and socks. She has a pair of

penguin fuzzy slippers she wears when working late at the office. She has a tape cassette

of penguin sounds which she listens to for relaxation. Her favorite colors are black

and white. She has personalized license plates that read PEN GWEN. Every morning,

she passes through all the cubicles to wish each of us a good morning. She brings Danish

on Wednesdays for Hump Day morning break, and doughnuts on Fridays for TGIF

afternoon break. She organizes the Annual Christmas Potluck, and is in charge of the

Birthday List. Gwendolyn Stich

an ear, and put in a good word for you; she will always give you a hand, or the shirt off

her back, or a shoulder to cry on. Because her door is always open, she hides and cries

in a stall in teh women

enters, sits quietly in his stall with his knees to his chest - John LaFountaine has heard

her vomiting in there. We have come upon Gwendolyn Stich huddled in the stairwell,

shivering in the updraft, sipping a Diet Mr. Pibb and hugging her knees. She does not let

any of this interfere with her work. If it interfered with her work, she might have to be let

go.

Kevin Howard sits in that cubicle over there. He is a serial killer, the one they call the

Carpet Cutter, responsible for the mutilations across town. We

that, so do not let on. Don

the routine established is elaborate and unwavering. The victim must be a white male, a

young adult no older than thirty, heavyset, with dark hair and eyes, and the like. The victim

must be chosen at random before sunset, from a public place; the victim is followed

home, and must put up a struggle; et cetera. The carnage inflicted is precise: the angle

and direction of the incisions; the layering of skin and muscle tissue; the rearrangement

of visceral organs; and so on. Kevin Howard does not let any of this interfere with his

work. He is, in fact, our fastest typist. He types as if he were on fire. He has a secret

crush on Gwendoly Stich, and leaves a red-foil-wrapped Hershey

every afternoon. But he hates Anika Bloom, and keeps well away from her. In his presence,

she has uncontrollable fits of shaking and trembling. Her left palm does not stop

bleeding.

In any case, when Kevin Howard gets caught, act surprised. Say that he seemed like a

nice person, a bit of a loner, perhaps, but always quiet and polite.

This is the photocopier room. And this, this is our view. It faces southwest. West is down

there, toward the water. North is back there. Because we are on the seventeenth floor,

we are afforded a magnificent view. Isn

tops of those trees are. You can see a segment of the bay between those two buildings

over there. You can see the sun set in the gap between those two buildings over there.

You can see this building reflected in the glass panels of that building across the way.

There. See? That

waving back.

Enjoy this view while photocopying. If you have problems with the photocopier, see

Russell Nash. If you have any questions, ask your supervisor. If you can

ask Phillip Spiers. He sits over there. He

over there. If you can't find them, feel free to ask me. That's my cubicle. I sit in there.

Letter of Intent

Well, here it is, the first GRADED English assignment. The last one was not graded. This was to answer three questions: What is the purpose of being in the online version of the course? What do I hope to learn from the class? Lastly, do I think I am ready for a fully online course? The answers are below. Funny thing I did yesterday too. I got a notebook and on the front of the notebook I wrote ENGISH just to spite my brain...

Nichole Hill

ENGL 111 WC3

23 August 2011

Letter of Intent

            The purpose for me being in the online course version of English 111, as opposed to the on campus version, is a work issue. I work full time at a software company as technical support and I am required to work, at minimum, forty hours per week or I will lose my full time status there. I cannot give up my full time status yet because I have three small children and a husband who retired from the Navy not long ago. Retired means unemployed in my book, but that is an argument for him and me. I was enrolled in the on-campus class but it conflicted with my work schedule so I requested to be moved to an online course instead. The purpose for actually taking an English class, of any type, is because it is required for my major. However, I love writing; any chance to tell a story that has not been told is exciting to me. I am a blogger for my paranormal research group and I blog for my family and friends on my personal site as well. The writing part of this class is not intimidating to me. I think what scares me is, I consider myself a halfway decent writer and hope to finish my novel one day, but I know I have so much to learn. I know I take criticism personally and I think it is an attack on me! I know that it is not but in my heart, I am scared to death for someone to tell me that I am a bad writer.

            This class will not be an easy one as I can see from the curriculum, but I will learn to write better and of course use appropriate grammar. I seem to have an issue with commas and run on sentences. They are not my friend. Every time I ask one of my journalist friends to edit my stories I get the same response, “Nichole, please watch your commas and run on sentences.” I am looking forward to showing them what I learned!

            I am completely prepared for a fully online course; I have a couple already with Southwestern Community College. I have taken many online courses from University of Phoenix and ECPI University as well. The style and procedures are a bit different from UOP online courses, which will take some time getting used to, but I am motivated and excited, yet nervous at the same time. UOP and ECPI, where I have attended before, have required APA formatting for all papers. I have never learned MLA style, and because of that, I have a lot to learn.

Earth-QUAKE!

Most of you have read or heard on the news about the earthquake that hit Virginia yesterday at approximately 2 pm EST. The quake/aftershocks were felt in 22 states. One of them being MINE! I was sitting at work, minding my own business, when I felt my desk start to move back and forth a bit, like a heavy footed person had walked past. I then looked about for someone shaking their leg which tends to wiggle the desks nearby but I found nothing and no one. Then I looked outside and the trees were shaking back and forth. I stood up and asked if anyone else could feel the building shaking. No response other than, "seriously Nichole? The building is not shaking" I was adamant about it. I KNEW what an earthquake felt like. Although I had only been through one in my life when I was in Utah, I NEVER forgot how it felt and this was an honest to God quake.

Fifteen minutes later our CEO emailed us to let us know that indeed it was, and I was right all along. Well, he did not come right out and say "Nichole you are a genius and we will listen to you forever," but he should have. In either case after the email was received I stood up again and said, "I TOLD YOU SO!" Maybe next time they will believe me and I am not as crazy as they think! Although I may still be crazy but I am hypersensitive to the ground moving beneath me.

Someone mentioned yesterday that since I was in the Navy I was used to feeling movement under my feet. I think she may be right. You have got to have sea legs when traveling on a ship, so what would be the difference if you had sea legs on moving earth under your feet?

My First English Assignment

I have an English professor, who has a Master's degree in English and apparently cannot spell or figure out the function of the auto correct feature in Word. This is the man who is going to be grading my papers for the next semester. Thank God I only have one semester with him because I cannot handle disorganized nonsense when it comes to my online classes. I just don't have the patience for anything other than what is expected of ME. Just tell me what you want to see and what you want us to read and I will get it done, is that too much to ask? Whew...I'm done ranting now...so sorry!

My first assignment was a "getting to know you" type assignment. We had to pick a quote from a list that he had already given us and decide what it meant to Shakespeare and what it meant to us and our lives. So here it is. I tried to be funny, but that didn't work out as well as I had though because it seemed like I was just bitching about things again. I tried to be sad or moving and that didn't work either, so finally I just wrote about my kids. Funny how my kids are always my default to go to when I have nothing else I can do.

Here it is, exactly as it appears in MLA format, which I have NEVER learned since I learned in APA format for most of my college courses. With the exception of removing my professors name (to protect his privacy and anonymity) nothing else has been changed. Enjoy...or don't...whatever!

Nichole Hill

ENGL 111 WC3

(Bad speller name goes here)

22 August 2011

Getting to Know You: ENG 111, 114 Writing Diagnostic

I chose, "love looks not with the eyes but with the mind” as the quote I would write my interpretations about. I am pretty sure that Shakespeare was trying to explain the absurdity of love and why, when someone is being treated horribly or someone does an ugly and despicable thing, that there seems to always be someone else who still loves that person. That brief explanation is not why I chose the quote. It is the perfect explanation as to why I continue to love my children so unconditionally.

I have three daughters, all under the age of eight, who I think are possessed by some sort of hyperactive entity that refuses to let them sit quietly and be the little angels I used to have. While they can be annoying, loud, hyper, and just plain evil to each other and others, I still love them. It will never matter what sort of trouble they may get in or how much grey hair they force onto my head, I will always love them.

 I loved them when they lost my diamond earrings that their father gave me when he returned home safely from Iraq for the second time. I loved them when they broke my handmade porcelain doll my grandmother gave to me before she died. I loved them when they spilled so much paint on my brand new carpets that they had to be replaced, again. I loved them when they told on me to my sister-in-law about hating her meatloaf.  I especially love them now as they tell me goodnight and give me sweet kisses and toddle off to bed. I love my kids, all of them, no matter what evil may reside in their hearts or minds or bodies, they are still MY kids and I love them. When they finally put me in a nursing home I hope it was enough love for them to choose an expensive resort instead!

Sick + Baby = Unhappy Mommy

My baby, my little girl, my happy/never whiny friend Trista was sick.

We did everything we could think of to make her better but nothing seemed to work except letting nature take its course and hope that her small body and parts would work the ickyness out of her system soon. We had to take her to Urgent Care in town after about four days of dealing with her throwing up, high fevers, and zero sleep for mommy. She slept all day and all night.

By the way, the urgent care facility is basically a useless place that apparently can do nothing in the way of treatment or diagnosis. They can check for strep throat and/or send you to the Emergency Room. Which is what they did for little Trista. She cried and cried for mommy and I was stuck at work but once they told my husband to go to the ER I was out of here like a shot. The FNP (Family Nurse Practitioner) was the nicest, most professional woman I have met in a long time. She worked with pediatrics a long time before coming to the ER. She was so good with Trista, she even got her to smile, even though Trista looked and felt like death warmed over. She told us to just keep giving her fluids and letting her sleep and keep up with the Tylenol and she should be fine in a few days, it had to be something viral.

I was hesitant that no tests were ran, no IV of fluids were given and my little T was severely dehydrated since she refused to drink anything for days. We could get sips here and there but it was not enough according to my limited medical training. We continued to deal with her sickness for five more days until I was on edge and seriously considered taking her back to the ER. Then it happened. She woke up yesterday, and she was fine, no fever, no throwing up, she was happy again! The miracle of the human body amazes me more than anything, I felt like she was knocking at deaths door and then the next time I see her awake she is fine and playing with her sisters.

I is an college stu-dant

Yes, its official, I am a college student and I have the ID card to prove it. I have been told that I can now survive on Red Bull and Ramen Noodles for the next two years. I am fairly confident that I am able to do this but my family may kill me if I try to make them eat it as well.

Today was my very first day for English "Expository Writing". I have no idea what that means only I know I have to take it. I got up early and dropped the kids off at the bus stop and drove the 30 miles to the school. I know where the building is so I park the truck and make my way up the three flights of stairs. There is an elevator somewhere but I am now climbing the stairs out of spite. (Eff you elevator that I didn't know existed until AFTER I huffed up three flights.)

I make it up the stairs a bit winded and panting like a dog with my five hundred pound backpack on my shoulders. I am looking for room number 310. I walk past 309...then there is nothing, the doors lead outside and up to Oaks Hall. Okay? I walk back in the building and walk back to the 309 room and read the sign again, the arrow to 310 points down the hallway, but thats the bookstore and outside. Thoroughly confused and flustered now I break down and ask a student standing outside 309 where on earth 310 is because apparently I am retarded. He tells me it is inside of 309. I read the sign again and in very small print is the words "310-315 inside". Seriously? Argh....who does that? Its like they (whomever they is) has hatched this complex plan to infuriate the thirty-one year old college freshman.

Going Back to School...at 31?

Well, it is that time of year again. That time where I wonder where my life has gone? What happened to all that time I used to have left to finish the things I wanted? Jim, the hubby, has decided to retire for good. A stay at home dad he should be since he served his country 25 long years. He has seen things that most civilians never get to see. He is tired of being away from his family because someone told him he had to go. I stand behind him, he deserves to be home with the kids while I take care of him for awhile.

I did get to travel the world and see countries I never would have seen normally. I did get to spend four years fighting for my country and getting paid to do it! I would never trade those four years for anything in this world. I came home safe every time with my entire crew, which is hard to say for most of the military now. They were the best years of my life and although I may not have enjoyed some parts of it, I do think about the good times I had, the lifelong friends I made, and the awesome job responsibilities! Seriously, how many people can say they stood on deck and guided helicopters to land on a moving target? Not many in my now corporate world. Time flew by and I regret not continuing my career with the Navy. I always assumed I had plenty of time to head back to college once I got out, plenty of time to do the things I wanted to do like doing a job that I really enjoy. The time has come to either take wing and fly or stay where I am, angry and unsatisfied in my job and my life.

Anyway, that was a bit off subject, sorry about that. The point is, I am headed back to school....again. This will be my third and final attempt at finishing college with a degree that I can use. (Third time because NOW the military cannot drag my husband away to another country and me to another state!) I am going back for Nursing in the two year RN program, once that is finished I can quit the mundane job I have now and actually help people who really need it. I am unsure where exactly I would like to work or in what field of nursing. I have it narrowed down to either psych or emergency room or even labor and delivery (since I can no longer have kids of my own and I LOVE babies.)

Wish me luck! Things are slowly falling into place for me to start very soon. While nervous I am also very excited. I know I will be in classes with a bunch of young kids but hopefully I can make friends. Love to you all and keep me in your thoughts.

First Day of School

Friday was Lani's first day of school. I know! School starts early here. She was so excited for it to come, she asked me every morning for weeks when she would get to go to school. Ana got to attend the day before because the older kids did not have the half day schedule that the K kids do. Lani was upset she had to wait an extra day.

I woke her up early that morning and she launched out of bed and immediately ran to get dressed and brush her teeth. Here they let the K kids eat breakfast for free at the school. I got Ana up a few minutes later and then we all headed to the truck. She asked me to take her first day picture once we were all loaded up.

She had such a great day! She got to go on a treasure hunt with her class mates and find the gingerbread man. She got to learn how to eat lunch in the cafeteria. She also got to learn how to write all 13 letters of her first name! This is very exciting for me because it took Jim and I a MONTH to remember how to spell it. (Kealohahalani if you don't remember)

Her class is 95% Hispanic which means only 5% speak English. I am a little worried about this because the teachers do not speak Spanish and the kids do not understand them so they have to "dumb down" everything. Lani is advanced for her age group I guess because she can already tell time, knows her letters and numbers on site, shapes and colors, etc. These Hispanic kids do not know them in English so it gets difficult. I never thought that I would have to teach my kids to speak Spanish just to get through Kindergarten.

She is disappointed that she does not also get to attend school on Saturdays and Sundays. I promised her she could go Monday if she was really good!

Welcome!

Hey everyone, you made it to the right place if you were following my old blog. Thanks for coming and I hope to keep you posted on our every day adventures.