Janet's Blog

I have been counting the days since last week's oral surgery, until I am allowed to exercise again. Today's the day! When the weather cooled off a little this evening, I was out the door with Jackson to walk the neighborhood. In the summer, the best time to walk is often just after the sun sets, when the air is cool and still. It's only been the last three or four years that I've been making a conscious effort to walk regularly. At first, I used the Health App on my phone to track my steps, but I have been more motivated since Bill brought me a FitBit from some convention he had attended. This time of year, I walk more than 10,000 steps nearly every day. It's become a habit now, except when I'm sick, or when the weather is nasty. When I was growing up, first in northeastern Nebraska, then in Fairbury in the southeastern part of the state, exercise was not a priority for most people, probably because it just wasn't necessary. Farmers and their families got pl...

Here we are at home, socially isolated to prevent the spread of COVID-19, that new coronavirus that suddenly appeared in China a couple of months ago. Never in my lifetime have I ever experienced this kind of reaction to a virus. It seems as though the whole world is quarantined.  Except for Levi's therapy and an occasional trip to the grocery store, we are staying home most of the time this week, and into the near future. We are not really quarantined, since none of us are sick, but the kids and I are isolating ourselves at home to help prevent the spread of this new, nasty virus. Bill is going to work as usual, with some recently added COVID-19 protocol, in an effort to provided essential TV and internet services to the homebound people who need it now, more than ever.  Yesterday, when I took Levi to the hospital for his appointment, we had to don face masks because I drove to an appointment in Fort Collins last week; since then, at least one health care worker the...

Years ago, when I first started teaching kindergarten at Trinity Lutheran School in Traverse City, Michigan, I taught my students this song:       Blue, blue sky, oh, I can see the sky.      God gave me eyes so I can see the sky. Blue, blue sky, in the fall, near the North Platte River. It was a great song, with a verse for each of the five senses. But this verse, at least, was dead wrong, because the sky in not always blue. In fact, in many locations, including northern Michigan, the sky is rarely blue. I wonder how many early childhood educators expect their students to color the sky blue, with a yellow sunshine in the corner, and maybe a few puffy, white clouds. And if you ask a class full of normal five-year-olds, will any be observant enough, and brave enough, to say that the sky is sometimes gray or black or orange, or any color except the expected blue? I don't remember when my thinking shifted, but by the time I was teaching preschoo...

My first book,  Grandma, Whatcha Doing?,  was published by Covenant Books on September 25, 2019. For a long time, I've had the idea, in the back of my head, that I need to write children's books. This book came about one summer afternoon, as I was outside, working in the yard, thinking about what my grandkids would like to do with me as I worked. One thing led to another, and pretty soon I had a whole summer story in mind. Then, when I went inside, I sat down at the kitchen table to cool off with a refreshing root beer float, before picking up my guitar and turning the story into a song. Over the next several days, I began to think about the things my grandchildren like to do with me during the other seasons, and before I knew it, I had written a whole book, set to music, encompassing all four seasons. Then, I added the lyrics/story to the notebook of songs I've written, where it sat for a few years, just waiting until the time was right for...well, I wasn...

My second daughter, Meagan, was always a good eater. As a rule, she ate whatever I prepared, without complaint. As she was growing up, I only remember one thing she didn't care for, and that was fish. She would eat it if she had to, but she just didn't like fish in any form, including the tuna that comes in a can. When Meagan was in college, she spent one summer studying at a university in Spain, where she boarded with a woman who lived close to the school. As part of the boarding agreement, Meagan's landlady provided her with supper early in the evening, long before most Spanish people eat their own late evening meals. Quite often, the landlady would prepare a boxed pizza, which she doctored by opening a can of tuna, spreading the room temperature tuna on top of the hot pizza. I like tuna, and I love pizza, but I can't imagine eating a tuna pizza! Meagan, who has always been courteous and eager to please, choked down the pizza, night after night, without ever telling...

The last couple of weeks have been emotionally challenging, and not only on the home front, where Levi has been making some changes with his school schedule and overall attitude, and Victoria is needing some motivation to accept more adult responsibilities. We are all aware of yet another school shooting, in Florida this time, and the inevitable aftermath of finger-pointing, as people try to determine who they should blame. Then, the Olympics have just finished, not dominated by the U.S. this time, but still thought-provoking and often fun to watch--even the Curling. So much of our American culture is centered on our children, and their sports activities and education. School is intense, much harder than it used to be, because there is so much more to learn, and so many more tests to take. In a society where children continue to have a variety of interests and abilities, and where they all learn at different rates, it seems as though many school administrators have taken the attitude...

Mr. Jackson was my seventh grade English teacher--and my eighth grade teacher, as well. A World War II veteran, he was gruff and set in his ways. Looking back, I suspect he may have suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He certainly never made any effort to get to know his students personally.  I don't remember that he ever smiled. I don't remember his first name, either. I'm not sure I ever knew it. None of his students would have ever thought of calling him by his first name, not even outside of school. To tell the truth, we were all more than a little bit afraid of him. Mr. Jackson lived in an apartment in Fairbury during the week, but spent weekends at his home in Lincoln, 70 miles away. He wore a full, dark-colored suit and tie to school every day. I don't think he ever removed his suit coat. He stood by the classroom door most days as we filed silently into the room, but he rarely greeted any of us by name. We found our assigned seats quickly--alphabet...

Over the years, I've taught kids with many different abilities and challenges. I know lots of parents with kids who have special needs of one kind or another. I understand, first hand, what it's like to be such a parent, because Bill and I have been raising two such kids of our own. It isn't always easy, but none of us want your pity. To tell the truth, we don't really want to accept your praise, either, because we are all too aware of our own shortcomings. Even the best parents struggle at times, and parents of kids with high needs often struggle-- often ! Even though we don't want your pity or your praise, most of us covet your prayers, because we are very much aware that we can't begin to give our children what they need without a lot of help and guidance from God. We also long for understanding. So, today I'm asking you to cut us some slack! Disclaimer: Although some of the following examples involve my children and me, I've witnessed or he...

Since he didn't need to attend the closing assembly at Gering Junior High today, Levi's last day of seventh grade was yesterday. But, today seemed to be a typical last day of school, sunny and slightly breezy, with sidewalks full of kids walking home from school at the unusual time of 11:30 a.m. Weather aside, there's something special in the air on the last day. The routines that have been in place for the previous nine months are gone. Kids and teachers alike anticipate summer's arrival, a welcome break from the stress of school, a time to regroup and relax, maybe even take a family vacation. Winter clothes are cast aside for summer attire, even on those inevitable cool, rainy days that are sure to come during the next month or so. As kids enter their forlorn classrooms on the final day of school, the walls are empty, books have been put away, the garbage cans are overflowing with the leftovers of an eventful school year. The last day, even the last week, is a mer...

April is Autism Awareness Month. Perhaps you already knew that, but if not, here's your chance to learn more about autism, because chances are very good that you know someone with autism--or maybe several someones. When I first became aware of autism, twenty-some years ago, statistics showed that approximately one in 300 children were diagnosed with autism. Since then, the incidence of autism has exploded. On March 27, 2014, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) released statistics showing that one in 68 children have Autism Spectrum Disorder; that's one out of every 48 boys, and one in 189 girls. Over the past fifteen years or so, I've worked with several children with autism. Most have been boys, but I've taught a few girls, as well, who have been diagnosed, and a few more who should have been. When I think back to my early years of teaching, I can pinpoint some students who exhibited autistic tendencies before autism was a common diagnosis. And, ...