A Turkey Day for the Ages

Ever since moving to North Carolina, Jackson and I have enjoyed Thanksgiving in the comfort of a Southern home. Our first year out here we enjoyed an elegant meal with practical strangers in the beautiful coastal city of Wilmington. After that we spent a magical break in Florida with wonderful family and 80 degree weather. Last year we were lucky enough to enjoy some truly southern cuisine with the Crews family. This year, for the first time ever, we hosted Thankgiving in our very own Southern home!

Our first Thanksgiving with the pup!

We were fortunate to spend the day in great company. Gabe and Ellen Bush came down from DC to spend the weekend with us. (Disclaimer, most of the pictures on this post are stolen from their blog... thanks, Ellen!) And some new friends - Angelique and John Paul joined us as well.

The boys enjoyed a Turkey Bowl, while us ladies enjoyed a wonderful walk and baked some goods in the kitchen. The end result was pleasantly asthetic and delicious!

The turkey was moist, the pies were divine and the sides were amazing. Ellen made delicious rolls, mashed potatoes and lemon merengue pie. Angelique and Paul made amazing sweet potatoes and cute cranberry sauce. I was pretty impressed that the turkey was deliciously moist and the place settings were so cute!

 What a manly man!

 

Cute dinner table!

I'm not going to brag (ok, I am...), but I have the best husband ever. He really made sure things were organized, delegated and prepared and made the day relatively stress-free for us all! And he sure carved the heck out of our turkey!

We spent the rest of the weekend showing the Bush's around the Triangle. We took them to Duke and Durham and we spend a day around Wake Forest and enjoyed the driving range! We even took them up to good ol' Henderson so that they could get a taste of where we work. A good time was had by all!!

Duke Chapel with the Bush's

Enjoying Wake Forest and the driving range

 

Only special visitors are taken to this gem of a landmark in Henderson... Keep it classy!

 

I am thankful this break was so wonderful! We had a great time with great friends and great food! We absolutely love that Gabe and Ellen are close enough for these long-weekend visits, and we hope to see them again soon!!

Middle School: Welcome to the Jungle

While I'll readily admit that most days I wake up grateful to have liberated myself from the jungle of Middle School, sometimes I find myself pondering on the positive moments I had there.  Heck, sometimes I just plain miss it.  What is that, jungle remorse?

Middle school is often considered the most challenging era in a student’s academic lifespan.  There are a number of contributing factors that make this true: while academic rigor is increasing, so are the expectations for personal responsibility.  Mom or dad may not be signing a homework folder anymore like they did at elementary school.  Some students are ill prepared for these first lessons in self-sufficiency and independence.

Add onto that the fact that students at this stage are developing physically, emotionally, and sexually.  Their hormones begin to activate like corn kernels on a hot stove.  And while they’re busy considering the big questions about life and sex, they self-organize – sometimes unwillingly – into camps or cliques.  This great organization provides the social orders that dictate middle school society, and can have life-long implications.  A micro-caste system is established and followed with fidelity.  For some it means a wealth of friends, the warmth of the spotlight, and the comfort of popularity.  For others, it means physical and emotional isolation, victimization, and depression.  In a nutshell, middle school is the great science lab for the experiments in self-identity and social interaction.

This experiment has lasers.

Middle schoolers are primarily concerned with fitting in or belonging to the “in” crowd.  They navigate the changes of their physical maturation, coupled with their dress and appearance, to present themselves before the “imaginary audience”.  This stems from an egocentric frame of mind that everyone in the room is looking at – and judging – them.  Students will go to great lengths to avoid being judged as “different,” which in turn affects every other aspect of their lives and can be the deciding factor in whether or not to wear a certain pair of shoes, whether or not to turn in homework, or where to sit in the cafeteria.  All other decisions are subservient to the greater question in a middle schooler’s mind: what will this do to my social standing?

Perhaps the most volatile of challenges a student faces during this time is a direct result of the social systems governing middle schools today.  Bullying is, has been, and will likely continue to be a paramount issue in our public schools, especially with students at this age.  The caste system that reigns in middle school lends itself to a natural process of bullying and social degradation.

Not only is a student’s sensitivity to popularity (or lack thereof) heightened at this age, but so is their access to electronic devices through which they can proliferate slander, abuse, and insults.  Facebook has become a sharp tool in the bully’s toolbox, and trends are indicating that Twitter is becoming increasingly popular with this age group.  With the cloak of anonymity, or the luxury physical distance, students today are growing increasingly bold when it comes to bullying and cyberbullying.

To safely navigate the social caste system that governs middle schools with an iron fist (that may or may not be manicured), students must strike a delicate balance between becoming independent, taking on new personal responsibilities, keeping up with new academic demands, coming to terms with their changing physical image, and creating positive relationships with their peers.  This challenge is compounded by the fact that many students at this age are still desperately grappling with the simple questions: Who am I? and Do you like my friend?  Check the box 'yes' or 'no'.

Thanks, Mike.  You're not so bad yourself.

House Full of Visitors

In the last 10 days, Celeste and I have played host to three different parties of old friends/family.  The first was an old professor and a invaluable mentor, Mike Sweeney.  Mike was the guy who convinced me to pursue a degree in journalism at Utah State.  He's the guy that wrote my law school and TFA recommendations.  Most of all, he's the guy that taught me to love writing, and he done tought me to right reel good, to.

Merlin was strangely comfortable around Clay.  That hasn't happened with any other strangers.

Little Navy Lynn, giving Merlin some love.

My brother, Clay, in the process of dropping his child.

Then came my brother, Clay.  Clay and his wife, Jen, came to North Carolina last week for a design show of some kind in High Point.  While they only got to spend one night with us here in Wake Forest, we had a great time.  They got to play with our puppy Merlin, and we got to play with their baby Navy.  And heck, sometimes Merlin and Navy got to play with each other! (although Merlin was slightly terrified of her.  But we expected that.  He's scared of everything but couches and bacon.)

Brooks and favorite daughter Celeste at the North Carolina State Fair

Celeste and favorite husband Jackson at the Fair

Last, but certainly not least, was the arrival of Celeste's dad, Brooks.  Brooks is a straight-up dinosaur hunter, and he came to town for some kind of paleontology conference regarding that kind of stuff.  He stayed for over a week, during which he was able to teach Celeste's 5th grade class, go on a geological dig, visit the North Carolina State Fair, eat pickled pork, and above all, bask in the radiant glow of his lovely daughter.

Brooks teaching Celeste's 5th grade class about dinosaurs.  Although according to leading scholar Ariel Britt of Orem, Utah, dinosaurs didn't even exist.

Grandpa and grandpup taking a nap after a long day of playing.

Look out, world.  Those are some wool socks comin' right at you.

While he was here, we also got to play racquetball, visit a warehouse full of classic cars, take Merlin on lots of walks, and eat good ole fashioned hushpuppies.  It was a great trip, and we were sad to see him go.  Especially because he was a one-man maintenance department for our house.  Leaky toilets, worn down wiper blades...you name it, this guy fixed it.

This van was delicious.  Reminded me of the old days...

Why did I ever sell this thing? 2006-2008, best years of my life.

Celeste and Brooks chattin' it up over an original Delorean, one of  9,000 ever made.

Aww...

AWWWWWWW.....

THANKS FOR VISITING!

Y'ALL COME BACK NOW, Y'HEAR?

Meet Merlin

We woke up on the morning of Saturday, September 29th with no intention of getting a dog.

Let me qualify that: since the tragic passing of my beloved dog, Emily, 4 years ago, I've woken up every morning hoping to get a dog; a loyal companion who could fetch a tennis ball and share my bed, and nudge me with his little wet nose when he wanted to go for a walk.  Unfortunately for me, there just never seemed to be a good time.  We've either lived in a small apartment or a house without a yard.  Add that to the fact that Celeste and I both work 12+ hours a day, and getting a dog just didn't make much sense.

Sense, shmense.

Okay, so the day before Saturday, September 29th, I ran into one of my colleagues in the hallway at Zeb Vance Elementary School.  Her name was Mary, and I knew that she worked a part-time job after school at PetSmart, just down the road from our house.  Desperate for some non-awkward, casual chit-chat, I asked her if she was working that weekend.  She said she was.  I told her we might stop by to see and play with the puppies the local Humane Society is always trying to adopt away.  Then we got to talking, and before I knew it, I was committed to a visit.  Not to a dog, now.  Just a visit.

The next morning, after cleaning the house and mowing the lawn, Celeste and I decided to go to the temple.  I had forgotten all about Mary.  Then, as we're walking out the door, it hit me.

"Shoot."  I said.

"What?" asked Celeste.

"We gotta' go by PetSmart real quick.  I told my colleague we'd stop by and say hello.  It'll take 5 minutes."

So we went to PetSmart.  Once inside, we instinctively followed the sound of barking and whining coming from the front corner of the store.  Mary was nowhere in sight, so we kept on to the puppy pen.  That's when we first saw him.  The chocolate coat.  The amber eyes.  The inexplicable, cosmic connection.

It was Merlin.

While the other pups were pacing and jumping and barking like an undisciplined circus act, Merlin lay curled up in the corner of the pen, staring forlornly up at us with the pain of the world in his expression.  While the other dogs pined for our attention, Celeste and I couldn't take our eyes off the pup with the caramel coat.  I looked at Celeste, and she looked back at me.  I could tell we were in trouble.

We picked him up and put him on our laps, just for fun.  We walked him around the store and sat on a bench with him in our arms and cooed and cawed like a couple of rookie parents.  He didn't bite or bark.  He really didn't do anything.  He just stared up at us and let us love him.  I guess that's all he wanted.  I guess that's all we needed.

Getting to know Merlin at PetSmart

What surprised me the most is that Celeste was the one most resistant to leave the store without him.  She talked about him like he was already part of the family.  I think it's partly because we've wanted something like this for so long, and actually getting a taste for it - just tasting it - had a profound emotional effect on us both.  In the end, Celeste wanted the dog.  With tears of joy running down her cheeks, I happily obliged.

So now that you know the story of how Merlin came to be an Olsen, let me give you some quick facts about the little guy:

1. He is terrified of everything.

Okay, I guess that about sums it up.  Seriously though, Merlin is a sensitive, fragile soul.  He's a rescue pup who was on "death row" before the Humane Society picked him up.  We don't know the exact details of his first 7 months on earth, but they must have been painful.  Unlike most puppies, Merlin doesn't like the outdoors.  He doesn't like walks.  He doesn't like to be around other people or other dogs.  (I took him to the dog park the other day, and he just hid under the picnic table while all the dogs played around him).  His favorite place in the house is in his crate.  He's got a few "plumbing" issues, and even when he does take care of business outside, he's actually ashamed of himself.  He puts his head down and sticks his tail between his legs.  It makes me want to say: "Who did this to you, Merlin, and where can I find the rotten SOB?!"

When we brought Merlin home, his first order of business was to find the most distant, dark corner of the house.  We found him in our bedroom closet...

...then we left him there.

That said, li'l Merlin has made great strides in the 8 days that we've had him.  He's on a pretty regular bathroom routine with minimal accidents.  He's now cuddling and playing with us (inside the house), and has gotten into the habit of letting us rub his belly, whereas for the first few days with us, he adamantly protected it.  He no longer walks around with his tail constantly stuck between his legs, and sometimes will even wag it when he sees us in the morning or after school.

Bottom line: Merlin is a special little guy who was deprived of love and a stable home.  We're here to change all that and fill the hole in the poor pup's heart.  And whether he knows it or not, he's here to fill a hole in ours.

Hangin' out with the O'Sheas

Doin' what puppies do.

Make no mistake: Merlin loves his mamma.

No one's sure what breed Merlin is.  We know he's a mutt, and as far we can tell from his coat and ears, he's probably a mix of a basset hound and a vizsla.

As I said, Merlin doesn't like walks...yet.  On this one, he pulled me toward some brush, dove into it, then refused to come out.  Poor guy.

Merlin loves nap time, the lazy cuss.

I dont' know where he gets it.

The end.

rePUBLICANS & democRATS (and why I'm one of the latter)

INTRODUCTION:

If you support government programs to help the poor, you're a Socialist.

If you think government programs are wasteful and ought to be abolished, you're a racist.

If you don't agree with everything I say, you're an idiot.

If I sound like I'm being ridiculous, it's because I am.  I am doing a near-perfect impersonation of today's pedestrian political rhetoric.  I can't scroll through 3 inches of Facebook feed without someone lambasting another persons political beliefs, or accusing another political party of being the very definition of evil.  It makes me hate politics, knowing how divisive it is.  Politics should be a noble, respectable endeavor where men and women go to make better the world we live in.  Instead it's a boiling vat of toxic butt rush.

I'm sorry, but if someone supports welfare, they're not a Socialist.  And I hate to break it to you, but just because someone didn't vote for Obama, it doesn't make them a racist.  Though the extremists on either side of the argument won't admit it, there are good Republicans and good Democrats.  Of course, each lot has their fair share of bad apples, and they're the ones making all the noise.  I wish they'd shut up.

THE CONVENTION:

I recently attended the Democratic National Convention in Charlotte.  First, to meet with Mormon Democrats from across the country, and to meet Harry Reid and to hear him speak.  It was a short speech where he talked about his faith and quoted scripture.  In front of the national news media and dozens of reporters, we all sang "Have I Done Any Good?"

Then, thanks to my father's endless connections within the Democratic Party, I was able to obtain a guest pass into the Convention arena, which was no easy task.  I have to admit, I felt kind of cool as I flashed my credentials that led me past a wall of security guards surrounding the arena, leaving hundreds of people in my wake who were as disappointed as they were eager to enter.

I saw many political celebrities, including Sen. Reid, CNN's Anderson Cooper, the Rev. Jesse James, and Jason Jones and Samantha Bee of The Daily Show.  Then, inside the convention hall, I watched dozens of speeches by the Democratic Party's most powerful and influential members.  Y'all heard of Cory Booker?  Holla!

Hello, Anderson Cooper.

The Reverend.

Since Celeste couldn't come with me because of her work schedule, I spent much of the evening alone, and it gave me lots of time to think about the great political debate, and I got all sorts of philosophical on myself.  Earlier that evening, I had been interviewed by a reporter from the Salt Lake Tribune who asked if it was "weird" that I was supporting President Obama when Romney and I shared the same religion.

"I'm not voting for a prophet," I told him.  "I'm voting for a president and Romney doesn't represent what I think is best for America."

WHY I (ALMOST ALWAYS) VOTE DEMOCRAT:

So, why am I a Democrat?  Why do I think that Romney, a man with whom I share the Melchizedek Priesthood, doesn't represent what's best for America?

I was raised to cheer for the underdog, and you'll find a lot of those in the Democratic party.  Whether in sports or in life, my dad taught me that the little guy deserves a fighting chance.  The poor, the immigrant, the outcast, etc.  Perhaps that's why I'm so good at supporting Utah State athletics, or why my father has made a living out of taking on big insurance companies that don't want to pay out benefits to an otherwise bankrupt family, or why I still cry every time I watch the film Rudy.  Perhaps that's why I became a teacher, and why, when the opportunity came knocking, I bypassed law school.

This is what led me to the Democratic Party.  It'd be hard for anyone to argue that the Republicans do a better job of taking care of the poor, the immigrants, or the outcasts.  Their policies, both fiscal and domestic, are more suited for the wealthy and the white, the mainstream and the mundane.

It would be equally hard to argue that the Republican Party is as inclusive as the Democratic Party.  While the Democratic National Convention was a melting pot of cultures, ideas, and skin colors, the Republican Convention looked like a gathering of Country Club donors and desperate housewives.  Where were the meek?  Where were the poor?  Where were the persecuted?  They were all in Charlotte, being included.

A perfect example of a demented outcast in need of love and empathy (I'm referring to the one on the right).

Senator Reid made a point of saying that he is a Democrat because of his Mormon faith, not in spite of it.  I couldn't agree more.  When King Benjamin delivers his address to the Nephites, when Christ delivers his Sermon on the Mount, and when our modern-day prophets speak out about serving one another and lifting up the downtrodden, they all point to an undeniable and eternal truth: we are all God's children.  We ought to love everyone, and judge no one.  We ought to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, take in the strangers.  We ought to clothe the naked, visit the sick and the imprisoned.

"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." -Matthew 25:40

WRAPPING IT UP:

Not all Republicans are callous racists, and not all Democrats are benevolent saints.  And, as Pres. Obama wisely put it in his acceptance speech a few nights ago, "No party has a monopoly on wisdom."  That's why I will never be a straight-ticket voter.  I'm proud to say that I have voted for several Republicans, my favorite of whom was Governor Jon Huntsman in 2008.

Huntsman intentionally avoided the Republican National Convention this year.  He basically said that he would return to "full fellowship" in the Republican Party "...when they decide to become a little more inclusive and broaden the footprint a little bit, and with a larger, more hopeful optimistic message about the future of the country that's based on real solutions."

I'm with you, Jonny.  When the Republican Party does this, I could get comfortable there.  Until then, I'll remain a moderate Mormon liberal who is caring enough to vote Democratic most of the time, and pragmatic enough to vote Republican some of the time.

"I am an extreme moderate, I believe anybody not in favor of moderation and compromise ought to be castrated." -Benjamin Franklin

Still a beautiful sight, even from the nosebleeds.

On the Eve of Battle

Chins up, men.  This is war.  Actually, it's elementary school, but I understand your confusion.

Tomorrow is my first official day as an assistant principal at Zeb Vance Elementary School.  The staff and I have been back for a week, but tomorrow we'll be joined by the kids, and that means the game will change.  Even now, those little kinders are setting out their clothes and carefully reviewing the newly-purchased items carefully placed inside their backpacks.  They're asking older siblings for advice, and mothers are telling them to have stiff upper lips and to be brave.

I haven't been to elementary school for sixteen years.  I'm not quite sure what to expect, although I've been told to carry a portable bottle of hand sanitizer.  It seems snot and vomit are in rich supply within the tabernacles of these little munchkins, and they're not at all hesitant about sharing.

But it's not the vomit that's got me worried.  It's not even their perpetually sticky fingers or their naturally loud dispositions, or curious wee'uns engaging in a game of kissing tag.  In all honesty, the thing I'm most worried about is...well, nothing.

It seems strange, even for me.  For the last three years, this night has been marked by a fierce, gripping anxiety that wouldn't be shaken, like my stomach was on spin cycle.  Every teacher knows exactly what I'm talking about.  On the Eve of the Battle, even a soldier with experience wonders if he'll make it out the other end alright.  Of course, it was worst my first year.  August 25th, 2009.  I still remember every whit and detail of that day.  My heart damn near leapt out of my chest it was beating so violently when I first stood before my students.  Sweat beaded off my forehead like a bottle of coke pulled from a vending machine.  When I saw my boys for the first time, I was stunned at their staggering height, their deep, throaty voices, and that their mustaches and goatees were far thicker than my own.  My girls were women for all intensive purposes.  Two of them were mothers.  One was expecting.  I never felt so white in all my life.

But tonight is different.  Tonight I feel at peace.  I'd rather say that I'm looking forward to tomorrow, and the new adventures it will surely bring.  My constituency has changed, and so has my charge.  Starting tomorrow, I'm not so much called to teach as I am to lead.  And these children house a more fertile, malleable class of brain than I am used to, and I hope that will allow me to do a greater good than I have with adolescents over the past three years.

So cheers.  Cheers to the Eve of Battle and to my fellow soldiers.  Cheers to the quest.  Cheers to education.  And above all, cheers to me not getting barfed on tomorrow, or any other day, for that matter.

Arizona in July!

My hosts for the week

As the school year came to a close in June, I was a little bummed that I had no plans to see my family over the summer. Last year Jackson and I spent almost a month straight with family, which was great, but it was not in the plan this year. As he was working full time for the United Way, I decided to work summer school and then just jump back into the swing of things at the end of July.

At then end of June I was talking to my sister Sarah and she invited me out to Arizona for a week. She was just throwing it out wistfully, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to make it a reality. Little by little things began to fall into place. Sarah was super generous in helping me get out West and we found an AMAZING deal that we couldn't pass up. The day after returning from Jackson and I's New England adventure, I was on a plane to Phoenix.

I know, I know... Phoenix in July??? Crazy! The forcast was displaying high's close to 115 degrees with no clouds in sight... but it was more refreshing than I ever could've imagined!

Sarah picked me up from the airport with her newest addition in tow and wisked me up the Arizona mountains. As we drove she explained that her friend had invited her up to a family cabin for a few nights and I would stay up in the cabin with them for a night. I envisioned a cozy cabin overflowing with children and parents trying to stay sane... oh wait... this was the "cabin" she spoke of.

The Cabin

Really, this is a family cabin? It has 13 bedrooms with a personal bathroom and sitting room in each room. It includes a 6 car garage, sport court, game room, theatre, pond and dining hall. We spent the night with three other families, and it never felt crowded. Not even at meal time! Another great feature about the cabin is that it was up in the mountains, and about 15 degrees cooler than in the valley. It was amazing. 

Three stories high!

The theatre. Yes, this is inside the house.

What, you don't have a cougar in your sitting room?

The dining area. The kitchen behind it has three ovens,

two sinks, two dishwashers and two refridgerators!

After enjoying the cabin we came back down to her adorable house in Gilbert. I loved spending time with Lynlee and getting to know my new nephew, Cooper!

Lynlee insisted we go to her favorite place in the whole

world, Bahama Bucks to enjoy a shaved ice.

On the way home she had a little fat face!

Cooper Lee Nelson, 6 weeks

Going to the park with Lynlee

My first night at Sarah's I was woken up at 4:00 in the morning by a surprise! My family had driven down from Utah to see me!! As I woke and hugged them I was overwhelmed by emotion and happy tears streamed down my face as I realized I would spend the next few days with my parents and sisters!! Even thinking back on it now it is hard to hold back tears - my family is so amazing! Thanks for coming down to see me!

They had planned on surprising me pretty much from the time my visit to Sarah was finalized. I had just a few hints here and there that I would see at least some of them, but I never imagined that all of them would be able to spend so much time with me!

Family Attack! Crystal and Ariel upon arrival

The remaining days were spend relaxing at the pool and spending quality time together as a family. We laughed, we cried, Dad showed us crazy videos of cars, Lynlee showed off like crazy, Ariel was hilarious, Crystal was so supportive, and Mom was so caring. Us sisters went shopping and did each other's nails. Mom, Ariel and I went to Sarah's kickboxing class, in awe that she gave birth six weeks ago and was teaching like nothing happened. It was such a memorable vacation and I am so blessed to have such a wonderful family!!

Mom and I at the pool

Lynlee and Ariel chillin in the pool like the rockstars they are...

This might actually be my favorite photo of the week.

Sarah is so adorable... and awkardly squeezing her son's chest...

Lynlee graduated from her first two wheeler to a taller one with Grandpa's assistance

She rode her big bike over three miles with Grandpa like a champ.

How many three year olds do you know who are on their second two wheeler???

Crystal takes Lynlee for a ride

Pool time!

We spent a lot of time in the pool...

Lynlee learned to Cannonball!

Typical Dad on vacation. He borrowed a saw from a neighbor (yes, a stranger)

and cut down two dead trees.

Dad relaxing like a man after disposing of the trees.

Grandpa with his two grandkids!

We experienced a crazy storm - enough to turn the neighborhood park into a lake!

Ariel entered the living room as above

Lynlee: "Why are you wearing that scary costume?"

Lynlee, wearing the "costume"

It's a triple hold!!!