day 224: my proposed IEP

When composing an IEP, it is crucial to first point out all of the student's positive strides forward.  

He can write all of his letters.  She can rote count to 20.  He can rhyme pairs of words.   

When the areas of concern are mentioned, it is important to continue to show hope and encouragement.

I think everyone could use an IEP.  

Based on a recent assessment given, you are doing a fabulous job with your family.  Your kids are thriving, you are maintaining your relationships, and people can depend on you.  You have not mastered certain skills, like being 100 percent on your game all of the time, but you are working hard and doing your best.

Yeah, I would surely sign off on that one.

day 223: suburban warriors

photo by Luann Hawker at

At the end of a full wonderful day, we went up into the mountains to take some family portraits.  This is one of our favorites.  We took some more traditional ones, which I will post later in the week once they are ready, but we have fun together as a family, so why not show it?

The man of the hour.  My #2 son, spending some time with his friends before leaving for his mission on April 7. 

#1 getting his hair tweaked by his friend.  #3 watching.

Looking good.

#4 being a goof ball.

One of our bffs and my mom.

#2 and his tall friends.  Tall.  Friends.  The guy third from the left is about 7 feet.  Really.

The spread.

Prepping for handstands in the front yard at the end of the day.  


Ending the day networking and playing games.

We all slept very hard last night. Great day.

Musical Monday: Scarborough Fair

This week's musical entry was recorded by me and my friend, Liz.  She is a talented musician and friend, and we had fun doing this classic piece.  Go here to get more background info on the song.  Pretty interesting stuff. Click on the title below.

The breakdown:

Scarborough Fair

1st verse: me
2nd verse: Liz
3rd verse: me
4th verse: Liz
5th verse: both, with me singing regular melody line.

Also, find the song over in my sidebar  --------------------------------------------->

day 221: tweezing tips

One very very important thing I learned once by watching What Not to Wear is never tweeze the tops of your eyebrows.  

I know I have mentioned my love for all things Stacy and Clinton before, and I may have even mentioned this little tweezing tip, but to me it bears repeating because I am a daily tweezer.  Yes, all my fair haired friends, when you have dark hair and like your eyebrows to accentuate your eyes, and not overwhelm them, you feel the need to tweeze on a very regular basis. 

When you keep the tweezing to under the brow, across your eyelids, you make sure to maintain a nice arch.  You can reach up into the brow a bit, but never ever ever tweeze above the brow.  Over-reaching the bounds will cause the need for regular maintenance that could have been avoided if you had followed this extremely important advice. 

And that is the extent of my eyebrow parable, which is to be interpreted (or not) any way you wish.

ps This is not a picture of my eye, but I have also learned the art of lining the top lid only with a thick swath of liner.  This is my new favorite make-up discovery (no parable intended).

day 220: compartments

Plans for today:

Homework from 7-10 a.m., before the day gets too distracting.

Laundry and cleaning up from 10-noon, before I lose any momentum.

Help and supervise kids downstairs in their rooms, noon-2, before they want to do something fun with G-ma and G-pa (pronounced Gee-ma and Gee-pa).

Get food ready for Sunday's guests (after my son's farewell address in church) from 2-4, before I get too tired later.

Board games and snacks from 4-8, as a reward to myself for all of my hard work.

It will be a good day, and I will feel good with all of my prepping for Sunday.  I am excited for my son and his upcoming Mexican adventure.  I will take a good number of photos on Sunday for my Tuesday post (not for Musical Monday).  I am very sleepy now due to an extra-busy day of meetings, food, shopping, watching basketball, and entertaining my lovely parents.  Sleep.  Now.


day 219: strong current

A good speech therapist will encourage a bilingual student to continue learning her home language when she is at home.  The mother and father should take a strong lead in engaging the child in that language that they feel the most proficient in.  A strong lead.  A strong example of language usage.

At school we will teach the child in English, and the child will become fluent in both, eventually.  This still amazes me.  It is like a magician's trick.  I will reach my hand into this hat and pull out a cute little brunette girl that can spit out any English idiom that your little blond sister can!  And she will do it with confidence and certainty.

But we will never ask the parents to only use English at home.  These kids need to hear a lot of words.  They need to be read to.  They need to be talked to.  By mothers and fathers who feel good about their own culture and language.  So please, no apologies about the lack of English at home.  You help with the flooding of your own words, and I will help with the flooding of mine.  And your child can build the boat all by herself. 

day 218: running with a desk over your head

When my youngest, and gentlest, brother was going into the sixth grade, the brother just older than him warned him about Mr. Rinker.   

You'd better behave yourself or he will make you run around the track with a desk over your head.  He is really mean and nobody likes him.

At some point during Mr. Rinker's instruction he asked my brother a question, which was really not a very good idea.  Tony looked up at him and, remembering the warning from David, vomited all over his desk.  Nerves got the best of him as you might guess.  And as if there were some sort of digestive party line in action, the other two boys sitting near my brother then also vomited.  That poor custodian.

But the point is, how about that power of suggestion?  How about the way our minds can work us up to the point of making ourselves sick?  Or to the point of believing an untruth if it is told to us in just the right time and place?  A powerful thing, this suggestion.

I would like to think that the same can hold true of the power behind sincere praise.  Or the power behind encouragement.  I am hoping that the power of suggestion will work for one of my little princesses in my class.  I told her parents that she can do regular kindergarten with some help in resource, and with an occupational therapist.  They were shocked and got quite emotional about the whole thing.  And then I saw them buying it.  They were ready to let that power of suggestion lead them to a new way of thinking.  About something true.  Something hopeful.  Something entirely possible.  And there were no desks involved in the process, except for the one I get to sit behind while I speak to these great people.

day 217: writing my way through it

Thanks to Lola at Sharp Pen/ Dull Sword for the shout out on her blog, and for giving me the Prolifiic Blogger Award.  I am on a quest here to write everyday, for at least a year, as I experience my first year as a special ed teacher.  It has been an incredible and exhausting and wonderful experience, and although I write about a lot of different things, I feel like this new experience for me has colored everything.  That, and so many other things going on in my life (like two adult sons who have or are going away on missions for my church, and my return to school to obtain my SP ED license, etc., etc.) have made this past year so full and fulfilling.  I am going through a bit of my own personal renaissance, and I am learning how to do it by writing about it.  

And now, I am going to pass on this award to other bloggers, who must follow these rules (after all, we are all looking for readership, whether we admit it or not):


1. Every winner of the Prolific Blogger Award has to pass on this award to at least seven other deserving prolific bloggers  (sorry, but I only picked 4).
2. Each Prolific Blogger must link to the blog from which he/she has received the award. (see above).
3. Every Prolific Blogger must link back to this post, which explains the origins and motivation for the award.
4. Every Prolific Blogger must visit this post and add his/her name in the Mr. Linky, so that we can get to know the other winners.

Check out the sidebar for the musical post for the week.  Hometown Glory.

day 216: noticing it in others

In the continuing theme of older people than myself (see my Musical Monday post for this week), at book club we talked about noticing graceful, aging, other women, but being unable (unwilling) to see it in ourselves.  Why do we get like that?  Why do we allow others the privilege of beautiful gray hair and their own style, and we want to keep that away from us?  Interesting psychological walls we build.

Annie Lennox.  Coolness.

Musical Monday: Hometown Glory

I heard Adele's Hometown Glory.  I totally fell in love.  All within 24 hours.  And I knew I had to sing it. 

Some of the people I thought of when I heard these lyrics will never ever read a blog.  They will never check email or visit facebook, or even read the paper online.  They are the sentinels of the neighborhood.  The old women that have raised families here.  The ones who have buried husbands at the local cemetery.  The ones that chose to stay through these 65 years since our houses were built.  They are women I have visited with questions and looked to as examples.  They are the wonders of my world.

Check out the sidebar ------------------------------------------------------->

You can also click on the pink song title and get to the link.

day 214: I've been everywhere, man

Places I have been to, that matter to me for one reason or another (in no particular order):

Santa Barbara, CA
Loire Valley, France
Seattle, WA
Florence, Italy
Quebec City, Quebec, Canada
Madison County, IA
Pasadena, CA
Knoxville, TN
Cardiff, Wales
Palmyra, NY
London, England
Nagshead, NC
Boston, MA
Bear Lake, UT
Wheeling, WV
Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada
San Antonio, TX
Paris, France
Brookings, OR

Places I would like to visit before I die:

Sao Miguel, Azores, Portugal
Shetland Isles, Scotland
Savannah, GA
San Francisco, CA
Upper Peninsula, MI
Augusta, ME
Machu Picchu, Peru

day 213: wet northwest

In three weeks we will  take our son to the Missionary Training Center and leave straight for Seattle.  I mean, we won't go home from the MTC.  We will keep heading north until we reach Boise, where we will stay in a hotel.  I will cry a bit.  I will enjoy the younger two kids and my husband, and then I will cry.

Crying somewhere besides home will be nice.  I will feel cleaned out, both by the feelings and by the trip, and it will be cathartic.  See, #2 will be leaving right in the middle of Spring break, after a hellish few weeks for me at work and school.  I will be exhausted and emotionally spent, and walking past his bedroom might break me.  In half.

So, I will do my initial adjusting while walking on the wharf and watching funny men throw fish at Pike's Market.  I will think of my boy while I eat good food and wake up in the beautiful home of my close friend who is a recent transplant to Seattle.

On the ferry to Bainbridge Island I will remember the time we ferried out of Boston Harbor in 2007 before #1 left us.  And I will be nostalgic.  But not for long.  Because this has been in the works for 19 years.  Because I have known this day was coming.  Because I owe Him.

And then I will smile and say a prayer.  And it will be right.

day 212: pushed over

Tonight Geo and I were talking about parenting adult children.  With a 21 year-old that is extremely independent in every way, except financially (been job hunting since returning from Africa 3 months ago), we are rewriting our handbook and starting all over again in so many of the things we thought we would do 20 years ago.  See, that's the thing about parenting handbooks-- they are up for editing on a regular basis.

me:  Hon, when did you become completely independent from your parents?

him:  Man, not until I was married, I guess.

We met in college, and though we were legally adults, we were still dependents.  I had student loans for tuition, but my parents always put funds into my checking account to help me eat and have electricity.  They were good to me without giving me too much.  Geo always had a scholarship (even all through grad school, during what I call the So Cal experience), but worked part-time for spending money and food, with his parents paying his rent.  We were supported, in every definition.

 That's #1 in the blue shirt. 

Now that my son is fully engulfed in college life, and is trying to get on his own, I find myself more sympathetic than impatient. As long as we see progress toward goals, and as long as I get a big bear hug every now and then, we will be his scaffolding.  Hey, what can I say?  I am a total pushover.

ps   recorded scarborough fair for musical monday with my friend, liz, tonight.  

day 211: my lawn

Recently my friend told me of a woman that had her big yard aerated and then proceeded to drop a crocus bulb in each hole.  Ten-thousand, if memory serves.  

Aeration allows for oxygen to circulate through the ground and helps the production of growth.  It opens things up that have been lying a little dormant.  Like we all need sometimes in our brains, in our souls.

And those crocus bulbs?  They pop up and bloom and provide color and texture, even if only for a couple of weeks.  Then they go away and allow for grass, the staple, to resume its claim. Like in our own lives.  Sometimes we are exploding with crocus bulbs, and most times we are tending to our lawns- resisting weeds and doing our best to maintain some sense of reliability and steadiness.

I am in a crocus stage, and when the grass takes over again I will be glad for that too.

day 210: with tiffany and justin for all

A couple of years ago there was a boy in our class that was a good-looking little brooder.  He would climb off the bus each afternoon with a look on his face that said everything in my life is against me.  If I caught him off-guard I could get him to smile, but it was a tough sell, even on the happiest of days.

Then the teacher (which was not me that year) asked for volunteers to come up and demonstrate the Pledge of Allegiance.  This same student comes to the front of the room, looks over the class with a bit of a smirk, puts his hand on his heart, and starts in nation, under guard, invisible, with tiffany and justin for all.

This year we also have a boy in our class that said under guard for months until I finally corrected him.  And let's face it, indivisible is a word that is just asking for trouble in every kindergarten classroom across this great country of ours.

So wherever tiffany and justin are, can you please talk to the president about increased funding for public schools?  We need your help!

day 209: my greatest need

Happiness is not my greatest need.  My greatest need is to feel that every part of me is fully in use.
Carol Shilds, Swann

When I read this tonight I scrapped the blog post I had started.  This quote hit me.  It hit me right in the heart.  

The heart that feels swollen with missing someone that hasn't quite left yet.
The heart that is filled with concern for my kiddos that I have a major responsibility for.
The heart that read scriptures with my youngest tonight.
The heart that is filled up with respect and want for my husband.
The heart that is banging in my chest, against ribs that try to hold me up.  That try to hold me together.

My ribs that seem wider than they used to.
Ribs that tickle.
Ribs that hurt after I laugh so hard I can't breathe.
Ribs that protect other vital parts of me.
Ribs that grab at my spine like a cage.

My spine that stands me up when I want to puddle on the floor.
My spine that acts like an axle to my body.
My spine that allows me to lean toward the mirror in the mornings when I examine my face.

My face that kisses my children on their way out the door.
My face that looks at papers and books and 5 year-olds all afternoon.  Gladly.
My face that has freckles and lines that say you can do it.
My face that talks to friends and laughs and sings.
My face that looks down at my body and remembers better, younger times.
Times when my hands held babies more often.  Cooked more often.  Tied shoes more often.

My hands that now type more.  Write more. Wring more.
Hands that reach up to touch whiskers on my sons' faces.
Hands that are folded under my body when I fall asleep on the couch at night.
Hands that are held by my husband as he leads me to bed after a long day.

Fully in use.  Fully, and happily, in use.

Musical Monday: Sunrise

I could say I did this song in celebration of daylight savings time, but that would be an after-the-fact thought.  Truth is, I just like Norah.  I think she is cool, and that she has a great vibe to her music.  

So, hop on over to the sidebar and give a listen.



day 207: eye to eye

Standing in the kitchen yesterday morning, I was approached by my 13 yr-old.  We were talking about what he and his friends did the night before, and why I wanted him to come with us to his younger brother's cello competition, and blah and blah and blah, and before I knew it I realized I was staring straight at him.  Not down an inch or so to see into his eyes, but straight.  Maybe even up a half inch.

This is not a huge accomplishment, being that I am only 5'2", but to me it means there is only one left.  One person smaller than me left in this house.  And if everything goes according to past experience, I have a couple of years left before I am out-heighted.

When they are babies we measure their progress by physical progress.  Sitting up, crawling, standing.  Then come the other measurements, like kindergarten and baptism.  But the physical stuff comes shooting with double barrels again when the acne kicks in, the voice changes, and the pants get too short, and all of a sudden my kids are men and I am the little lady that cooks for them and reminds them to make good choices when they are away from home.

day 206: open for business

When our basement flooded in 2008 we spent March through May rebuilding and deciding the best way to spend our insurance money, plus some savings.  We recarpeted the whole house, got some new appliances in the kitchen, bought new furniture, and generally spruced up this old house.

One of the by-products of all of the hullaballoo was that our den became a storage room, holding onto all of the stuff that had been displaced.  There were boxes of books, card tables, folding chairs, and a mess of cables, mics, and other equipment that belonged to my missionary son.  

During the last week Geo and I spent every free (ha) moment working on the den.  We painted, we designed the layout, we put together furniture.  We are happy with the final product and are glad to have living square footage again.

Minor tragedy to waste space.
To give up room for living.
To store everything up in a closed room
and say "later".

Opened blinds.
Room to walk.
To study.
To reinvent.

Feels good.

day 205: the world doesn't have to be round

Today I heard someone say, The world is round.  What goes around comes around.

When people say that are they thinking only about revenge or bad karma?  Wouldn't it be nice if more often it meant,  Hey, thank you so much.  I am sure someone will do something nice for you today since you just helped me out.

Goodness and kindness can spread just as readily as greed and selfishness, but in this human experience carnality too often wins, and the eternal parts of us sit back and watch.  If this is what our round world symbolizes, give me back the days of the 16th century when explorers were afraid of sailing off the edge.

day 204: cured by curling

My schedule today:

5:30 am  up to do homework
7:30 am  get everyone out the door
8:30 am  attend district inservice meeting until 11:30
11:30 am  teach my kiddos until 2:30
3:00 pm  shop for a baby gift, grab late lunch
4:00 pm  go to class at BYU until 7:00 pm
7:30 pm  go to the grocery store to pick up the essentials (frosted flakes and milk)
8:00 pm  go to friend's baby shower
8:30 pm  come home to find kids curling in the kitchen, complete with sliding measuring cups, a broom and lots of yelling HARD HARD HARD

Seriously, friends, I laughed so hard I was in pain.  Perfect.

post script:  Musical Monday in sidebar.

day 203: we are joseph

 I was reading in the Old Testament the other morning in Genesis.  I love the story of Joseph in Egypt.  Chapter 45 is where Joseph reveals himself to his brethren, years after they sold him into slavery.  His brothers, understandably, were distraught by the revelation and found themselves unable to respond.

I am always touched by the way Joesph forgives and calls his brothers to him.  But the line that hit me this time was in verse 5.  ... for God did send me before you to preserve life.  This is not only powerful in that Joseph holds no grudge, but also because he sees a purpose for his experience in Egypt.

In a loosely metaphorical way, I thought of my ancestors.  I thought of people who suffered, hundreds, maybe thousands, of years ago to survive.  I thought about how easy it is to get caught up in my own bubble here and to forget that there were those sent before me to give me life. 

How often do I see my real place on the continuum?  How often do I consider sacrifices of my predecessors?  And how often do I think about people I am coming before?  It is much too easy to isolate my experience, but like Joseph, I want to see my purpose and be more reflective about the purposes of others that came before me.  Why have I been sent before those in my own future?

Does our blood get more and more diluted as the years pass?  Can we still feel the influence of our past running through our veins?  And do we recognize the potential of those in the future that will have us running through them?

day 202: fumes

blue changing to honeydew green

two people in a closed room

rollers dipped and flying

as we splash on primer
to cover imperfections

to cover imperfections

to cover imperfections

and we cover us /

we enjoy isolation

and talk about sons and girls

and feelings /

i look up as i whiten the ceiling

and end up speckled 

in paint and thoughts and life  /

Musical Monday: Landslide

To Stephen, as he starts the rebuilding process.  

Time makes you bolder.

Kazzy's voice has been silenced by the Digital Millennium Copyright Act(see the details here). Sorry you can't listen to her sing directly. But send her a message and she'll try to work something out.

Please check the sidebar for the mp3 player.  ---------------------->

day 201: the golden statuette

This evening we will hold our 13th annual Oscars Party here at Chez Kaz.  We print off ballots and have prizes and eat lots of good food with our good friends.  It is fun to see what the celebs are wearing, guess in the categories we are totally clueless in, and hand out prizes at the end.  Oh yeah, I said prizes.  I don't want to give anything away, but I will just say that one lucky person is going home with Junior Minty breath!

So, in the spirit of the big event, and everything we love about movies, please leave a comment stating your favorite film and a brief reason why it is your fave.

I'll start.  All About Eve.  Bette Davis is absolutely killer in this movie as a soon-to-be washed-up actress.  It was perfect casting, and she is brilliant.  Emma and Meryl are my favorite actresses, but I still go with Eve for my fave movie.

Your turn...

day 200: where the author has a snarky moment

This week I have discovered that it is very difficult to be a public school teacher that loves her job and feels like she is promoting an environment of trust and encouragement, and to watch as your kids are experiencing anything but.  In the past few weeks I have written three emails to various teachers asking for an explanation of certain discipline strategies, a reason why my son (and his other brainy, but "cool" friends) is verbally bullied in last period everyday, and to ask for some compassion (last term when my son broke his pelvis every teacher accomodated his struggle, except one who failed him.  6 As or A-s and an F.  Yeah.).

I always think through the email before writing it, and I pass the content by my husband, just to make sure you can't hear my clenched jaw in my rhetoric.  And I always write from my work email account so that the recipient can see some semblance of collegiality.  But nothing beats the self-control we both exercised this week when my son asked who John Birch was, because his teacher was showing movies created by the John Birch Society as part of his history lessons.  My husband asked what else was being shown, hoping a balancing opinion was being thrown in.  You can guess here.

For days we debated back and forth what to do.  This was the same teacher that gave the failing grade last term, and we were on shaky ground (did I mention we went to the principal over that and the grade was changed to an A by the end of the day?).  So we are still mulling over our action plan.  My blood pressure rises when I think about it. 

I wish my own kids could have an experience like I try to foster in my class.  Positive feelings.  Encouragement. Happy teacher.  Sheesh.

post script:  I am starting to dislike email now...
post script 2:  sorry for the negative vibe.

day 199: rosetta stone

I have a student in my class that struggles saying a complete sentence.  I am not talking about correct grammar.  I am talking about getting out enough words in a sentence so that it makes sense.

I books cats.

In car.

No matter what I have tried, giving verbal prompts, encouraging, praising when she gets close, it is not happening. Luckily, she is enthusiastic about school, enjoys her peers, and manages to communicate just fine with her little friends.

I feel that way with those closest to me.  Sometimes my sentences can be choppy and incomplete, but those people that love me are able to interpret my meaning.  Yesterday I was on the phone with my husband, concerned about my oldest feeling overwhelmed with school, tuition, etc.  A catch in the throat from me on the other end of the phone and my husband responded, No worries, baby.  I am on it.  Within half an hour the problem was solved and I was at ease.  Now, don't think I always get my way.  Please don't think that.  I do, however get understanding.  And it isn't just by my husband.  Sometimes it is my sister, sometimes my best friend. 

There is an invisible rosetta stone I hold up when I talk to people that love me.

day 198: passing notes

I enjoy being in class and learning how to be a better teacher.  I enjoy all of the cheerleading for special ed.  It is invigorating and good for my brain.  Homework?  That's another story, but I know deeeeep down it has helped me to learn.

I am currently taking three classes.  One meets each Monday, one each Tuesday, and one each Wednesday, for three hours each I might add.  My mind, and body, have become conditioned to where Wednesday now feels like Friday to me.  I find myself wiggling in my chair, tapping my pencil, looking at the clock, and getting off task on my laptop.  Yup, at about 5:30 yesterday I hopped onto Google reader to read your blog updates and drop some comments.  Facebook got a little visit too.

It was while I was on facebook that an IM popped up.   It was from my oldest son, who was sitting in class across campus somewhere.

I can't stand this class anymore.   

So I typed back.  I am tired and can't concentrate today. 

Yeah, we went and passed out 2000 fliers for our show tomorrow.  Took some time.

Hey, are you eating enough?  Do you need some groceries?

Nah, I'm good.  Thanks, Mom.  XO


This whole note-passing thing is alive and kicking.  The form has changed, but the purpose and outcome remains the same.  And I wonder what part of the lecture I missed. 

day 197: cog in the machine

This morning I got up at 5:30, choosing a handful of hours earlier to go to bed and do homework in the quiet morning hours.  It is never easy to get up early, no matter what time my head hits the pillow, but the over-achieving, middle-aged student voice in my head bugged me and bugged me until I had no choice.

I like to wake up when it is dark still, as long as everyone else gets to stay asleep for a bit and I get the place to myself. 

I stretch and yawn and splash my face with water.  Then I look up and see that same face again. 

I wander into the kitchen, where I sit down at the computer to type up a lesson plan for my CPSE 430 class.  Due today.  Two weeks ago I got ahead in all of my classes, but then I relaxed for two weeks, and now it is time to work again. 

Sometimes life is like an assembly line.  I stuff the candy into the little boxes over and over until I do it so automatically that I don't think about it.  That is fine here and there, as long as I get some variety.  Enter husband and kids and creative outlets.  A good mix.  I need busy.  I like busy. 

Speaking of creative outlets, click on the mp3 player over there ------> to hear my Musical Monday post.  In an hour I am off to do more recording for a soon-to-be posted MM.  Did I mention that I thrive on the creative variety????

day 196: vulnerable view

I am a nut for contemporary design.  I love the risks.  I love the asymmetry.  
A common trait is an uncomfortable (for some) amount of glass.  

I am all for it.  I would walk in front of this window in the early morning hours in my nightgown and look out over the water.  I am an easterner, so to me the sun rises, not sets, over the ocean.  And at night a plate of food, something noodley, then a walk out on the sand.  The whole time being able to see inside my house.  The fat brush strokes on the canvases.  The streamlined furniture.  

With the glass serving as a picture frame.

Musical Monday: Ma Cherie Amour

I recently set up my den as a little studio, and I am loving it.   

And please notice the mp3 player under my followers in the right sidebar.  This is where I will now keep the week's Musical Monday title.

I invited my talented young friend, Jessica, to come on over and do some singin' with me this weekend.  She lit up when she saw the mic stand and all of the room available for dancing between tracks.  Which we did. 

Stevie Wonder's Ma Cherie Amour was the main reason for our get-together, but we finished up by doing a last-minute recording of For Good,  from Wicked.  She did such an awesome job, that I plan on posting that another week.  Here is how we split things up:

Ma Cherie Amour:
Jessi gets the first verse
I take the second verse
We share La la las
Jessi begins third verse
I finish up with the chorus
Share the La la las

Kazzy's voice has been silenced by the Digital Millennium Copyright Act(see the details here). Sorry you can't listen to her sing directly. But send her a message and she'll try to work something out.