Not enough

Sometimes, when words are not enough...

Tears have to suffice.

I made a new friend!!

Dear Judith,

While at work, I was on Facebook, as apparently I usually am, and noticed that I had a new friend request.  Curious, I clicked on the link, and it was Jessica Lee!

Though I've never met her, I feel immediately connected to her because of our common experience, because of our island.

It feels wonderful to talk about Oleai, Coffee Care, Pau Pau, Tapochau, apple green tea, and all our SDA kids.

I haven't felt able to discuss my real (Saipan) life with people lately, because there's no way anyone could understand...unless you had been there, unless you had lived it.

The night has gotten a little better.

Going...

A few months ago, I found a Facebook application that examined status updates to find which words were most common. Though I realize this, and most of Facebook itself, are completely useless, I participated out of curiosity's sake. I am proud to say that my most commonly used word in my status updates is "going".

It's how I want to live my life. I don't want to remain stagnant, just waiting for life to happen. I want to seek it out, travel the world, participate in my life, rather than simply watch it pass.

I learned how to live in Saipan. It started that first Sabbath on my first island tour. I was shy. Rhonda wasn't there yet, and even if she had been, I only knew her on a surface level. It was simply me.

We drove to Banzai, enjoyed looking at the beautiful ocean, and I was comfortable...enough.

We looked out across Suicide, and I was not nervous. I did not realize that life was about more than watching.

We went to the Grotto. My first step down those slippery steep stairs was the first step of my journey. By the time I got to the bottom, my legs were shaking, and I had no intention of crossing over to the rock in the center, but I was convinced. I held on to that pole which was drilled into the rock, and I took a step.

The water washed over my feet. I took another step. I couldn't do it on my own. Ken held my hand, told me when to jump, and I trusted him.

Another step.

I was on the rock.

I was shivering.

Amy jumped.

Nicole jumped.

Cristina jumped.

Angie jumped.

I thought they were crazy. I don't know what happened.

I closed my eyes, and...

I jumped.

With a splash, I was cleansed of everything that I had been told I was. I surfaced with a smile, and put my past behind me.

I've been jumping into life ever since and now I'm never GOING to stop.

Going Home

Dear Judith,

I love love love the show "The Biggest Loser". I think it's so inspiring to watch the transformations of these people who so desperately want and need to drastically change their lives. This week's episode, however, was a hard one for me to watch.

One team won the opportunity to go home for a week. As I watched these strangers arrive at home and hug their children, I closed my eyes and pictured myself going home to Saipan, hugging my children, the ones with whom I connected so strongly. I would give absolutely anything to be with them again. They are the most important people in my life, despite the great physical distance between us. I think about them everyday, I relive our times together, and picture them growing up, as I know they are.

I wish I could go home.

I Miss

Dear Judith,

I just found this document on my computer. I guess I wrote it right after I got back to America. It all still applies.

I miss the oppressive heat.
I miss the blue ocean.
I miss Yellow Mango strawberry banana smoothies.
I miss being noticed by everyone around me.
I miss my class. Oh so much.
I miss cockroaches. It's true, I do.
I miss my incredibly strong support system.
I miss being genuinely liked by the people around me.
I miss my lack of drama and the lack of boys around me.
I miss seeing Asian people.
I miss free mangoes and starfruit.
I miss hearing Japanese.
I miss Rhonda cooking for me.
I miss Rhonda.
I miss being called Miss Jaimie.
I miss the beautiful beaches.
I miss snorkeling and camping at Managaha.
I miss driving down Beach Road.
I miss being able to go to work without driving on Beach Road.
I miss knowing my way around and having a nice car to drive.
I miss late nights with friends.
I miss praise songs at church.
I miss TGIS.
I miss all the kids from SDA.
I miss the Yoshidas.
I miss being someone, contributing something.
I miss the way that I talked.
I miss having something to blog about.
I miss jumping in the grotto.
I miss dancing with Sanchez and Angie.
I miss Sanchez and Angie.
I miss Clean Laundry.
I miss fried bananas.
I miss Street.
I miss apple green tea.
I miss getting dressed up and going to Garapan.
I miss Wave Jungle.
I miss PIC slides, on my stomach, feet first.
I miss Oleai tacos.
I miss tutoring.
I miss Sean's peach cobbler and fettuccine alfredo.
I miss Barbara's salad.
I miss the Maycocks.
I miss the opportunity to get tan.
I miss Bobby Cadillacs.
I miss Sabbath afternoon hikes with the Piersons.
I miss laughing with my Angela.
I miss Cristina teaching me how to act "D.C."
I miss who I was.
I miss the feeling of accomplishment.
I miss my hair.
I miss never seeing white people.
I miss aloe juice.
I miss driving to Banzai by myself, late at night.
I miss freedom.
I miss traveling.
I miss REAL.
I miss feeling like I was home.

Starbucks is nothing. American boys are awful. I just want to be back where I belong.

Wait It Out

Dear Judith,

I recently purchased Imogen Heap's new CD, entitled Ellipse. My current favorite song from the album is "Wait It Out".

Everyday, I think of what might have been, if I had stayed for a second year, if I had extended my contract. I feel like I lost myself on the trip back to America. Perhaps the real me never left the airport in Saipan. Sometimes I feel like I'll never reconcile who I was there with who I am here. I wonder if I'll ever recover from the loss of my Saipan home, family, and life. How can I speed up the process? In fact, I may want to hold on to the pain of goodbyes, because at least that part of Saipan is still real in America.

As I try to endure my feelings of desperation for Saipan, it helps to know that others can put my feelings to music in a way that is much more comforting than I anything I could ever conjure. Here are the lyrics:

Where do we go from here?
How do we carry on?
I can't get beyond these questions...

Clambering for the scraps in the shatter of us collapsed
that cuts me with every could-have-been

Pain on pain on play repeating
with the backup, makeshift life in waiting

Everybody says time heals everything
but what of the wretched hollow?
The endless in between
are we just going to wait it out?

There's nothing to see here now,
turning the sign around
We're closed to the earth 'til further notice

A stumbling cliched case,
crumpled and puffy faced
Dead in the stare of a thousand miles

All I want, only one, street level miracle
I'll be an out and out, born again, from none more
cynical

And sit here cold, we will be long gone by then
In lackluster, in dust we layer on old magazines,
fluorescent lighting sets the scene
in the one life that we've got

And sit here
Just going to wait it out
And sit here cold
Just going to sweat it out
Wait it out

It's About The People

Dear Judith,

Tomorrow marks the four month anniversary of my leaving Saipan. In some ways, life's ease has increased as the time passed. I am not as constantly cold as I was on my return. I have begun to re-insert myself into society, the one which I left behind in my journey to...what did my year in Saipan accomplish? Perhaps that's for another blog. Perhaps I've already covered that topic to death, and you have discontinued your readership to avoid my repetitious sentiments. In any case, though some things have begun to seem normal again, I still find myself longing for the place that I left.

I was looking through the pictures of a current preschool teacher in Saipan, and I found something which I suppose I've always known. Saipan is beautiful. I miss the warm sun, the sparkling beaches, and the beautiful flowers, but none of those pictures really caught my attention or caused my eyes to fill with tears. However, when I saw pictures of the students who captured my heart and still hold it, I immediately had to look away, and still I could not fight back the tears. Just the thought of them, in a world so far away that I could not reach them if I tried sends me right back to the airport on my last night in Saipan.

I recall so keenly, sitting in a chair by the cafe in the airport, talking with Tali, Rhonda, Edna. I hadn't started to cry yet, and I was wondering if I even would. Then Edna said, "I know who Miss Jaimie will miss," and she began writing a student's name on my leg with her finger. That was all it took and I completely broke down.

I have since tried to mentally picture every child who was in my class during the course of the year, and so far, I haven't made it past the first name before I have to give up my task.

Saipan is a wonderful place, but I didn't fall in love with the island. I fell in love with the people: the people I worked with, the students I taught, the people I went to church with and learned from. Life isn't about where you are or even what you're doing. It turns out that it doesn't matter if you're in Oregon, or D.C., or even Ohio. It's about the people, and that's what I truly miss about Saipan.

My class on picture day

The goodbye group at the airport

REAL--What a blessing

New Year's at Tapochau

End of the island tour--Sunset at Tapochau

Final Update On Bunny

Dear Judith,

As I was reading old posts from last year, I realized that I never told you the final story of Bunny, my favorite little student from Saipan. She was my heart and soul in Saipan, and she taught me so much.

In the beginning of the year, I posted a picture of her on myspace. A friend from home commented on the picture, saying how cute she was. I remember disagreeing in my mind. Bunny is not cute. She is beautiful and fierce and independent and needy, a gaggle of contradictions, wrapped up in a tiny 3 year old's body.

Bunny left for four months during the school year. I didn't know if she would ever come back to school, though I did occasionally see her and her family at Street. I remember so clearly the day that she returned. It was around ten in the morning, and I was peeling an orange for breakfast, though we had already started craft activities. Out the front window of my classroom, I saw Bunny and her mother strolling toward the door. My heart dropped and I couldn't believe that she was actually coming back into my life. For weeks, I watched the door every morning, hoping that she would come back to school and she never failed. My baby had come back to me.

A few months later, the preschool graduation was scheduled, planned, and decorated meticulously. The children behaved for the most part, and things went off without a hitch. I was roaming around the church after the program, greeting parents and saying some goodbyes to my class. I was feeling sad, but I had promised myself that I wouldn't break down in front of everyone, until I saw Bunny. One look at her and I completely lost all my composure. I sat down outside the church and held her, sobbing, while her mother looked on sympathetically. It was then that her mother gave me the greatest gift ever: comforting words in my time of greatest anguish.

"Bunny used to not like school. Then you came, and she doesn't cry anymore when I take her. She really likes you. If we never see you again here, then in heaven." I could do little more than nod and whisper my thanks.

Bunny went to the office on my last day of work, and she cried. I nearly cried also. The last thing that I wanted to do was be separated from my baby, but I always tried to do right by her. She wouldn't fall asleep during nap time, so I laid down with her. She talked to me. She was sweet and she was hilarious. After the kids woke up, she let me take a picture with her, and she smiled. I cried.

My last day

I haven't heard from her mother since I left, but I believe that Bunny is in Jesus' hands, which is the only place where she could be more loved than with me. But I still miss my darling more than anything.

Our last field trip to American Memorial Park

On the Playground

Moving On....Again

Dear Judith,

The time has come for me to say goodbye to my life again. I'll be leaving camp tomorrow, after three months of living here. Again, I have to leave everything that I know and plunge into the unknown. I'm going back to Walla Walla University, but nothing will be the same as when I was there before. I'll be living off-campus with my mom, I'll have friends, I'll be working more than ever before. As I ponder my future, everyone else is playing Frustration around Douglas's and Darla's kitchen table.

Sam, Phillip, Jessica, and I have been hanging out nearly every night since I got back from Tennessee. We've experienced many adventures, and I'm sad to say goodbye to this laid-back portion of my life. Sam and Jessica will be at WWU with me, but Phillip has yet to decide where he will spend the next year.

Leaving camp reminds me of leaving Saipan. The ache has not yet left, and I feel it sincerely everyday. I'd like to say that I'm happy and enjoying life, but I can't forget about all the people and adventures that I have left behind. Perhaps someday, I will grow up and accept life's changes, but for now, I relish the pain that these memories bring.

Last Sabbath together

My last sunset in SPN


Looking out over Bonzai


Driving home after my last hang out with Michi

Latest Adventures

Dear Judith,

Hey! I haven't talked to you in ages. I hope everything is going well. I really miss you. I had a lot of your campers in my cabin this summer and they all raved about what a good counselor you were and how much they missed you. Thanks for letting me have them though. They were all fantastic. I nearly cried when my teen campers left.

I recently got back from roadtripping to Tennessee with Krystin. It was just the two of us and Delilah and I had just learned how to drive stick shift two days before. It was pretty sketch but somehow we survived and it only took us two and a half days! I hung out in Tennessee for about a week with Krystin, David, and Kristen then flew back and now I'm back at camp, which, besides Saipan, is my favorite place to be.

Somehow, Douglas talked me into going rafting the other day. I'm not sure why I went, but I did. It was Douglas, Darla, Kate, Jessica, Courtney, Matthew, and some camp supporters in my raft. We were doing pretty well, until, we hit a rock. I fell out of the raft and went through the rapid on my back. It was scary but I survived with only a few cuts and bruises. I have, however, learned my lesson: Never trust Douglas! :)

My hip, thanks to Douglas

It's been a good time, but I still miss Saipan with every fiber of my being, and I would go back in a heartbeat. Please tell me that feeling eventually goes away. I love you and miss you Jude!!

Not My Words

Dear Judith,

Though I've remained (in my opinion) fairly silent about my time in Saipan, my journal is filled to the brim with bottled up feelings. I have no more words to describe the way I feel; all of my sentences have dried up and floated away, no longer any use to me or anyone else.

I recently finished reading a book which has helped me immensely. "The World Below", by an author who I cannot remember at the moment was a random purchase on the clearance shelf at BestSellers, by Joeten in Susupe. A portion of it is is set in the late 19th century, and the protagonist contracts tuberculosis and is sent to a sanatorium. While there, she lives in an isolated world, much different from the one from whence she came. When she returns home, her father is engaged, and her whole life is flipped upside down, and she has great difficulty reconciling her double lives.

My journal is filled with quotes which accurately describe how I'm feeling in words that I could never conjure on my own. I'm going to share a few of my favorites, so my feelings could be understood.

"It made me think of the borders we all cross, the distances we've all come from what feels like home. Who lives at home in America, now?"

"Now I began to see myself, my story...I saw, in fact, that I had a story. But not only that. I saw myself as I was seen, physically moving around in [Saipan]. [Saipan] gave me this: self-consciousness. Before her, I had been invisibly at the center of my world. But the world grew larger for me now, and I became visible in it. To myself, most of all."

"'You're a new gal!' she said, with tears in her eyes, and Georgia felt that someone, at last, had seen her, had understood that everything was changed in her life." (Haven't had that moment yet.)

"Sitting here now...she found it difficult to believe in the other world, in what she had become and done...[a]nd yet she could hardly believe in this world either, she felt so cut off from it now. As though this life, these events, were a dream she was living through. When someone spoke to her, she half expected bubbles to rise from her mouth, she felt so underwater, she felt she was moving so slowly and thickly through the day. Would she ever outgrow this? Would her own life become familiar and comfortable to her again, as life in [Saipan] had? Or had she made herself unfit for it, with all that she'd done, all that she'd learned? Of course, she was thinking, it wasn't her own life anymore, not as she'd known it. Maybe that was all the trouble. Maybe it was just a matter of getting used to [the way things] would be run."

"I recognized that for her, the divided life had begun, that life always half lived elsewhere, always ready to be claimed and summoned."

My First Run and more Reverse Culture Shock

Dear Judith,

During my time in Saipan, I ran occasionally on the beach pathway, and a few other venues, though those stopped after the infamous "Koblerville Incident". I ran a couple 5Ks and really enjoyed getting more physically fit.

Since coming back to America, I've experienced some shortness of breath due to the high elevation. That had decreased in frequency, so I assumed I was ready for a run and today was the day.

Krystin and I started running at cabin 9, with the plan to run to the second teepee of Camp Morrison, for a total distance of 2 miles. We began and I was feeling pretty good, but we weren't even a mile in when I had to stop and walk because my lungs were burning. It was a very frustrating feeling, because my body wasn't tired, but I simply couldn't get enough air.

I was able to run the full mile back, but it was definitely a strong reminder that I am no longer in Saipan. Oh, how I would give anything to go back. Today has been a particularly hard for no particular reason. I found a preschool toy in my pocket today. One of the kids must have put it in on my last day. I nearly broke down in the middle of staff worship. Also, Sean had to put the video of Rhonda and my long walk, which is probably the cause of my current emotional mood.

Just a rough day.

At Camp

Dear Judith,

I'm sorry. I didn't give you enough credit last year. I didn't understand the trials of being back in America after being in Saipan. I'm sorry for not listening more, because all I want right now is for someone to just shut up and listen to me talk about my class and my life in Saipan.

Jonathan and I drove to camp today. It was a lovely drive, though a bit long for my taste. I'm used to a max of 30 minute long car rides. We arrived and I unpacked everything into my cabin (cabin 7--woot woot) and went into town with Krystin.

We were back by 7 for worship and we were then released for free time. I went back to my cabin, grabbed my computer and came to the staff lounge to chat with Saipan friends. When I was missing people too much, I decided to call Rhonda, ruling out Angie and Cristina because it was too late to call them. We talked for maybe 30 minutes and I felt better while talking to her and worse when I was done.

I don't know how to talk to people and I'm always cold. I just want to go back to Saipan and leave this dark, cold, and lonely place. I don't know how you survived, Judith.

In America

Dear Judith,

I'm extremely tired, sick to my stomach, and completely lonely, all signs that I am back in America.

Saturday night was the teacher goodbye party for Rhonda, Nicole, and I. The rest of the teachers are staying on for another year. It was a good night, full of picture taking, good conversations, games, and of course, plenty of tears.

Rhonda and I left Saipan at 4:30 in the morning on Monday. Walking through security and leaving everyone was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. To make it worse, a close friend had written me a letter which I read while waiting to board the plane. In retrospect, that probably wasn't a very smart idea, as it only increased the flow of tears.

Rhonda and I separated in Guam and I went on to Honolulu, which was about a seven hour flight. I barely slept at all, but I also barely cried. I waited in Honolulu for a couple of hours, then continued on to Seattle, where I had my first taste of Starbucks since Tokyo in November. It made me completely sick to my stomach.

It was a short flight from Seattle to Boise, and I sobbed the whole time. I felt very bad for the lady sitting next to me.

My parents and Krystin met me at the airport and it's been a whirlwind ever since. I'm in Walla Walla now, and really struggling with the social side of things. It's hard when you've been gone for a year, but I'm sure that will come with time.

I miss Saipan and my life there more than anything. I would trade anything and everything just to be able to go back. I don't feel like I fit in or belong here anymore, and I just want to go home. Pray for me Judith, please.

My Last Sabbath

Dear Judith,

This year has flown by and I can't believe that it's nearly over. Rhonda and I fly out on Monday morning and the rest of the girls leave on Tuesday. I'm not ready to leave and I don't feel prepared to deal with the world that is waiting for me in America. No part of me wants to be back there. I don't know how to deal with my feelings, but crying has proved a viable option.

Yesterday, I went to the preschool for the last time. I was fine, until I said goodbye to Taka. He held on to my neck so tightly, and I didn't want to put him down. I'm not ready to say goodbye.

Tonight is the goodbye party for the three of us who are leaving. I would give anything in the world to trade places with Angie, Cristina, and Megan, who will be coming back here next year. I'm just now starting to get to know many of the elementary students and I have to say goodbye.

Though she wouldn't like to admit it, Rhonda is having just as much of a hard time as I am, and I can understand why. Her kids are amazing. All the kids here are just fantastic, and the thought that I may never see them again is unbearable.

Please, Judith, pray for me in the coming weeks. I don't know how I'll survive them.

Australia

Dear Judith,

Oh boy.  I have not blogged in such a long time.  It's a beautiful Friday afternoon in Saipan, and Krystin and I are sitting at Java Joe's, drinking soy chai, and I'm trying to remember the details from RCT's trip to Cairns Australia.  

We left on a Thursday afternoon.  In the airport, we were assigned children to watch.  I got Joy and Tali, and we quickly formed Team Jet.  Everyone was jealous of us.  Our motto was, "We enter with style!"  

We stopped in Guam for a bit, and everyone ate dinner.  The kids were so excited to get Burger King!  I was lucky to have an empty seat next to me, so a friend came to sit by me.  I practiced my Japanese and wrote in my journal on the 4 hour flight.  

Customs took awhile longer than it should have, due to some of our props, but we finally made it out and loaded up into some taxis.  Our taxi, however, did not start, so Carol, Megan, Michi, and I had to wait for another one to come get us.  

We arrived at the Bohemia Resort and were amazed at how nice it was.  We settled in for the night and woke up early Friday morning for our show at the Cairns SDA Elementary school.  It went well, and the little Australian children were so cute!

We were lucky to have the afternoon off, and we went to Cairns Tropical Zoo.  It was epic-ly awesome.  I held a koala and fed kangaroos.  I loved it.  

We had a performance that night at a church plant, and they seemed very receptive, especially to our Lifehouse pantomime.  

Saturday started off with a performance for Youth SS, followed by church and a yummy potluck.  Some of the kids went with Sean and Rhonda to be on the radio, and the rest of us got ready for the afternoon performance in Edmonton.  Again, Tali performed beautifully, and they weren't many dry eyes in the house at the end of Lifehouse.  

The evening was spent playing volleyball and wandering around the Night Market, and the money began to disappear.  Australia is very expensive.  

On Sunday, we went to a lake and went tubing and kneeboarding.  Amy, Michi, and I left a little bit early, trying to make it up to Kuranda, an aboriginal village, but we were too late.  By the time we got there, almost everything was closed.  We sadly went back to Bohemia and chilled until bedtime.  

Amy left the next morning, so we had no more cars.  Rhonda, Michi, and I tried Kuranda again and this time we had great success!  It was a really cool place, and it was a neat experience to walk through all the shops.  

We left that night, headed back to Saipan, but not before hitting up the night market again.  I spent so much money, but it was well worth it.  Australia was a really great experience, and I feel very lucky to be able to have gone with some of my favorite people.  

Miss you Judith.  I haven't heard from you in a long time.  Hope everything is great!  Love you!

My Last Day of Tutoring

Dear Judith,

As I'm sure you know, tutoring is a great way to earn some extra money while living on Saipan, and I have been lucky enough to tutor two great kids since I got here. Ricky moved back to Korea a few months ago, and, sadly, my last day to tutor Charlotte was last Thursday.

Charlotte has been awesome. I love her and I was really sad to end my time with her. Most of our time was spent talking (I justified it by telling myself that I was helping her with her conversational English) and playing hangman. I really grew to care about her a lot.

We accomplished practically nothing on our last day, but we did take lots of pictures and eat lots of candy. Here are some of the best ones:

Yoshi

Dear Judith,

As my time on Saipan draws to a close, my mind is constantly filled with thoughts of my class. Here's some more of them.

Everything in the world belongs to Yoshi. I learned that pretty early in my time as his teacher. He is the only boy and the youngest in his family, which has led to him being completely and totally spoiled rotten. In anger, he has hit, pinched, and bit me. He never listens when you ask him not to touch something, he eats the other kids' snacks (keep reading for a story of that), he is loud and obnoxious when asked to be quiet, and I love him more than I could have ever believed to be possible.

At Lee's Birthday Lunch

Yoshi is one of the cutest kids I have ever seen. His big eyes, chubby cheeks, dark hair, and easy laugh have all found their way into my heart. He loves his papa, and it's adorable to see how close they are.

A few weeks ago, Yoshi told me that he had eaten some cereal out of a classmate's cubby. I informed him that that type of behavior was not okay, and then asked why he did it. He answered, completely matter of factly, "Because I was SO hungry!" I really tried not to laugh, but I just couldn't do it.

Yoshi and I play a game nearly everyday at naptime. It started off simply enough. "Oyasumi nasai Yoshi," I said, so proud of the fact that I'd learned more Japanese.
"Oyasumi nasai Miss Jaimie...osaru" (Translation: Good night Miss Jaimie monkey)
"Oyasumi nasai Yoshi...osagi" (Translation: Good night Yoshi rabbit)
And so the game began. We go back and forth, always trying to come up with a new word. Perhaps I'm easily entertained, but I always end up trying to laugh quietly so I don't disturb the rest of the class. It works out well for him though, because it means he can stay awake just a little bit longer.

One of my biggest breakthroughs this year was with Yoshi. I nearly cried when it happened, and I'm sure that teachers are the the only people who could understand why. I was standing, cutting paper for an upcoming project. Yoshi was on the floor, and it was right after snack time. I wasn't really paying attention, so he grabbed my leg. He looked up at me, and said, "Miss Jaimie?"
"Yes, Yoshi," I replied.
"May I play with the blocks?"
To fully understand why this was such a big deal, you would've had to have been me, struggling for the past few months, trying to make my class understand that before you play with a toy, you must ask. Yoshi had asked. He asked.

Sleepy, coming back from a field trip

Yoshi teaches me Japanese, he gives me hugs, he falls asleep in my arms almost everyday. My mind, my body, and my soul will surely feel empty when he's no longer around to fill me with his joy and laughter.

My heart breaks with every second that brings me closer to leaving these precious children.

Rihanna

Dear Judith,

I'm frantically trying to blog while on my lunch break, but I have a feeling that this one won't be finished before I need to get back to work.

A few months ago, Belle left my class. She was a beautiful girl and not a day passes that I don't miss her. About a week after she left, Rihanna joined my class. She's Korean and has the same name as Belle (though I refer to them differently on here).

I quickly became attracted to her quick wit and easy laugh, though for the first few weeks, I had to guess what she was saying because she knew very little English.

She came to Outdoor School at Managaha with her mom, and had her first experience with the ocean. She loved it.

Rihanna is a great dancer. I don't know where she finds these dances but she's absolutely hilarious. I used to think that I could never love a kid who came halfway through the year as much as I loved the ones who had been there the whole time, but she proved me wrong.

I don't think about what my life will be like without her. I've spent literally hours laughing at her antics. She fits into my class, and into my life, perfectly, and this Rihanna would never get back together with Chris Brown is he beat her.

When she doesn't hear what you say, she cups her hand next to her year. When she giggles, she puts her hand in front of her mouth. When she is pretending to be scared, she shakes like a leaf. She loves to pretend that her fingers are a spider crawling all over me. From the second she walks in the door until the moment she leaves, my world shines a little brighter.

I can't imagine loving anything or anyone more than I love my kids.

My Song

Dear Judith,

It's been awhile since I've written, and even longer since I've heard from you. Hope everything is going well for you. I miss talking to you.

I've had a few songs written for or about me in my life. Some of them are less than flattering (The Jaimie Nickell Song, performed by Donnie Keele) and some are so sickeningly sweet that I can hardly tolerate to listen to them (Sam wrote such a song for me). However, my favorite one was written today, on a whim, by a three year old.

I put Jonathan on time out for the third time in three days for hanging on the branch of the tree by the window. I've started making him complete tasks before he can get off time out. Yesterday, it was to run three laps around the playground. Today, I asked him to sing me a song.

We've been practicing songs for our Mother's Day Tea Party next week. One of the songs is to the tune of "Are you sleeping?" and the singer proclaims their love for their mommy.

Jonathan, without missing a beat, began to sing my song.

I love Miss Jaimie, I love Miss Jaimie
Yes I do, Yes I do
Miss Jaimie loves me too, Miss Jaimie loves me too
Yes she does, Yes she does.

I can't imagine anything better.

With a hug and a kiss, Jonathan was off to play, and I was left to wonder how I'll ever survive without these kids.

I simply don't think I can.