Sixteen on Sunday

Heh, heh. Maybe not sixteen but...maybe! A lot of things have happened during the week and there were lots of moments when I thought, "I'd like to write about this." Of course, it didn't happen. Apparently, I can only handle bullet-list sized thoughts. And that's o.k...for now.

1. I'm sick. I haven't been sick all winter and was getting quite puffed up about it. But, now, I've been hit with a doozy of a cough that has become progressively worse since Tuesday. I missed my Thursday workout thinking that was the apex of my illness only to wake up feeling worse on Saturday (missed another workout) and again missing church today. I'm ready to be healed!

2. On Tuesday, I received a Valentine's card from an older woman in my last ward. She's been sending me cards for about a year, mostly during a holiday season, but other times as well. At first I thought it was really sweet. I mean, it's still sweet. Cards in the mail are the best. But, once we moved, I wondered why they kept coming because I thought her sending cards was more linked to using her Relief Society directory than knowing me personally. I still think that because A) I saw her once at the grocery store, made eye contact, and before I could say "hello" she turned and walked away. Translation: She doesn't actually know who I am. And B) I sent her a Christmas card (only fitting, right?) making sure she had our change of address and the Valentine's card was still sent to the old address. What makes it even stranger was the personal message she wrote in the card. She wrote, "Love is worth celebrating when I've been blessed with great friends." I felt horrible reading it. I think she must think I am someone else. Someone she really likes, but must think has my name, is not getting her cards!

3. I also received not one, but TWO Christmas cards this week. Each included lovely photos and fantastic letters joking about why their cards came late. I'm telling you, both just made my day. I highly recommend sending out cards late if you never got around to it during the busy Christmas season. I agree with one sender in that the notes get a lot more personal attention in February than in December.

4. I've read four books in the last ten days. I finished an entire book today while in bed.

5. Sam drew a disturbing picture in his journal at school that got the attention of the school counselor. He had told both Jay and me about a girl in his class who regularly pinches him and kicks him and we sort of laughed it off, telling him that she probably liked him and was just trying to get his attention. I honestly hadn't thought of it much more, although I did tell him he had to give her a Valentine card too when he declared that he really didn't want to. Everything came to a head on Thursday when one of the girls (because of course they act in a pack) saw the drawing. I haven't seen it but both the counselor and Sam described it to me as Sam lying on the ground, dead, with the four girls standing nearby laughing, one of them holding a gun. I know! Both the counselor and I asked Sam if he genuinely felt threatened by these girls and he says he doesn't but he really dislikes them and I think what really distresses him is that he doesn't know why they all dislike him so much. He was in tears when he explained to me about how they constantly laugh at him and make an "L" with their hands and stick it to their foreheads (he had to ask what that meant. He also wanted to know what sticking up only your middle finger meant. Sigh). What really bugged me is I don't feel like the counselor really had Sam's back. I think if he were a shy, quiet kid, or someone without friends, she'd be running to his defense but she thinks Sam must be somehow egging them on or getting his friends to. Why can't kids just be nice to each other?

6. There was a youth stake dance on Friday night which I attended both as a chaperon and because I got put in charge of a bowling activity. It brought back such great memories. Having never served in Young Womens before, I haven't been to a youth dance since...well...since I was a youth. I'm not counting the square dancing during Trek this past summer because square dancing in no way makes me feel young again. It was weird to be the middle aged observer in the chair along the wall. If I were a free spirit, I might have just jumped up and joined them but something held me back. Instead, I watched with a smile on my face as every kind of dancer was represented that evening. The girls who dance in a pack with synchronized moves, the not-very-cool-but-couldn't-care-less boy whose dance was moving his arms as if he was using ninja nunchucks. Always sure to impress the ladies. There were line dances I've never seen but loved how they pulled everyone on the dance floor because it felt safe. There really is something enviable about being young. Except for the all the bullying, of course.

7. I thought I had more to write about but it all disappears the moment I start typing. Ah well. Seven is much more palatable than sixteen.