This is Why It's Hard.

The two girls who moved into the home right when I got back from Hawaii have both been moved out. One moved on Wednesday, the other, today.

Coincidence that they were the ones to say good-bye? I don't think so.

When I arrived at work last night, it was like the ministry was giving me one last kick in the ass. Twin sisters, reunited after 9 months apart. 14. Not street-entrenched to the least. Plan was to move them into a permanent home together. Thrilled. I've never met two people who balance each other out more.

They weren't the same person. They completed each other. Their personalities were very distinct. One was hard on the other for hanging out with bad influences. The other got on her sister's case for being rude to other people.

They were each others' security blankets.

On Wednesday the "puzzle master" was at work and said that the girls (who were making progress) couldn't stay with us one more month (until new placement for them opened) because we were an emergency home and the beds needed to be made available (funny how the kids who have complete disregard for the rules are left with us for 4-5 months).

So the answer is to split them up and put them in two separate towns in homes with very "street entrenched" youth to influence them and bully them for the next month.

My head exploded when I heard the news.

What makes it worse? There were no kids waiting for the beds.

I cannot even begin to say how many times this has happened. A pretty innocent kid is thrown to the "wolves" or a kid who is beginning to "buy in" and begins making some positive changes is immediately ripped from our home and put somewhere totally wrong. It's as if they're being set-up to fail. And the people making these decisions just see open spaces and the kids are pieces to fill those spots.

It doesn't matter that it isn't really the right spot for the puzzle piece, the "puzzle master" will just force it, and I swear that often they are damaged beyond a simple repair. Now they don't really fit right into the spot that they were designed for, and they're easily displaced by the slightest breeze.

And so many of them end up under the couch.

I was reminded what the absolute worst part of the job is. Not being able to do anything about crap like this. Hitting red tape all over the place. Not having any one person to get mad at. Diffusion of responsibility is the "Ministry for Children and Families'" middle name. Don't get me wrong, there are many people in this line of work who are solid gold. I work with and for them. But when you try to find out who made that bullshit of a decision, you just make your complaint out to an office, not a person, and when you try to deliver it, you get a "full mailbox."

Oh, I could vent about this all night long my friends. But the truth is, I believe there are people at work in the system this very moment who will change it. I believe that there are people who will never really burn out. They'll get frustrated and get exhausted, but they are made for the battle. I believe that things will change because there are people who won't allow this broken machine to keep lumbering along chewing up and spitting out kids who need help- and the workers who try to help them. Some of them are in school, and have yet to get their feet wet, but I believe that things will change.

Perhaps I will start writing some letters and harness all my annoying energy (remember how much I annoyed you Thayne?) to get people aware. To get people angry. Maybe I'll lead an angry mob. And we'll join with these "soldiers" I see working their way in to this evil machine and we'll all start screaming until someone gets annoyed.

That said, I will never forget these kids. They have touched my life in a profound way. They've changed me. I am thankful for every one of them (even if they shortened my life span and given me stress wrinkles). I won't stop praying for them, and I know that I will be involved in some way (encouraging the people who work this thankless job is a start). They need a voice. They're the "orphans" in our backyard... never ceases to amaze me that people are always running off to Africa to help the orphans... when there are so many here who have no one (if you've ever met a person who honestly has no one, you know what I'm talking about, it's haunting).

I know that I will reflect on these past three years the rest of my life. Perhaps I will remember it at the greatest job I ever had because it was the job that transformed me.

I got cards from all my staff today. They are one of the biggest reasons why it is so hard to say goodbye. There's a special bond made when a small group of 20-somethings are trying to"parent" a drug-addict, gang member, sex-worker, criminal-offender who has every reason not to trust people who say they "just want to help." Tears have been shed. These women are incredible.

Here's the kind words these "soldiers" had to say on my final day:

"Thank you so much for everything you have taught me. You are an amazing
role model to these girls and have given 100% from day one. I wish you all the
best in your new future and career, I know you will be the best."-L

"I always learn a billion things about life, youth, the system, etc, every time we chat. Thanks for your positive feedback and insight. I hope to be like you in the way that you work with and serve these youth." -V

"Thank you for all you have taught me. You have been a role model to me, you will always be the heart of this home..."-T

One More.

This is it. Tonight I drive in for my very last shift. My commute next week will take me roughly 7 mins by bicycle, and when I get off work, I only have to cross the street and I am on the dyke by the ocean.

I'm taking my retirement from youth worker seriously: biking to work, spending my days on the golf course and my evenings on the beach. I'll be that pretentious artist sketching and painting on the beach. 

Leaving my job tomorrow will be hard, but I've come a looooong way over the past few weeks and have begun to "turn the corner" from feeling very broken to getting excited about the future.

As soon as Kwantlen receives my transcript, it looks like I'm "in"- meaning that I've jumped through one of three hoops on my way to entering the interior design program.

This is Embarrassing...

Having just watched "Julie & Julia" (loved it!) and been subjected to one too many "YAZ" commercials, I thought bubble bath + me fully clothed = good idea.

While lounging in our room, waiting for Domi to get home from work, I announced that I was gonna take a bath.

I threw all the body wash, bubble bath and shampoo in the tub and then set up my tripod to take 5 shots in a row...

Attractive faces are my specialty.

I want to cry when I see that glorious golden tan that is now more of a grey colour. My legs are crazy alligator skin because I've been refusing to exfoliate off the colour... it's not so pretty anymore.

The dumb poses were going real well until...
Scotty walked in.

Stupid non-locking doors. They're more of shutters than doors. While Ang and I were trying on clothing in "Saks Fifth Avenue Off 5th," I noticed that they had put all the changingrom doors on backwards so you could totally see everyone in their underwear. I got immense enjoyment out of this. We might as well have been trying clothes on in one big room.


Hmmm... how to explain this...

There are so many of these moments in my life- where I look like a total nut-job and really can't say anything to make myself look more sane.

Scotty is the perfect guy for me....
Forget the tripod. Scotty climbed in in his clothes and I yelled for Ang to come see what I was doing. She tried to ignore me. I just kept yelling her name, so she finally came and started shooting.



Again, attractive faces= my specialty.

And now we have no shampoo or body wash to have actual showers. This was more important.

Finding Peace.

Sometimes a week can pass in the blink of an eye. It can be hard to remember what you even did with those seven days. It can be downright scary when time passes at hyper-speed and you're left trying to convince yourself you weren't asleep for most of it.

Other times a week can bring about more change than the past year. It can take on its own life.

I have had one of those weeks.

A week ago, I had been home from Hawaii for 2 full days (24 hrs of which, was spent at work). The morning after my first shift back gifted me with 3 cold sores, a shoulder hanging a solid 2 inches lower than the other coupled with muscles spasms, complete mental and emotional exhaustion.

I was so excited to return home. I couldn't wait to get on with finding deeper enjoyment and satisfaction in my own life through choosing to recognize and be thankful for the blessings God has given me- to work hard against taking things for granted.

I stepped off that plane ready to live the life God gave me. To let Him show me that my grass is pretty damn green as long as I commit to tending to it (water, trim, weed) rather than waste my time staring at the pasture on the other side of the fence.

What I didn't anticipate was this big old "backpack" that I had been able take off for 17 days getting in the way.

I had thought that God would have emptied that backpack for me, but when it was put back on me while I drove into work for my first shift, I could barely breathe.

I didn't remember it being that heavy.

My best guess is that I was able to function under its weight before I left because it has been slowly and steadily getting heavier over the past several months. I didn't realize it was crushing me until I had that break from it.

I keep reminding myself that God's timing is perfect. When I look back on this time- I will understand, but it doesn't make it easy.

This week I gave my notice. The tears spilled onto my cheeks on Monday and they haven't stopped since. I have found myself drowning in worry, but when I call out to Him, I find peace. Today at church the pastor said, "Faith is often confused with courage. Courage is a belief in one's self, in one's own abilities. Courage is based in confidence, and sometimes even narcissism. Faith is a belief in Him. It is trusting Him. Faith is finding peace in the midst of the storm."

It's funny that my prayer a week ago was that I wouldn't go down on a sinking ship, but that I would finish my job walking on water with God because the scripture of focus today was that of Peter walking on water, and the message was of faith in the midst of chaos.

That's been happening to me all week. God has been preparing my heart for every word, song and verse. I got an email on Tuesday morning from a woman who used to be my leader when I was in Pioneer girls, at the end of the letter she wrote, "I hope this hasn't been too preachy."

The words spoke straight to my heart. I read it over a few times and felt great comfort and peace throughout my day.

I have spent this week in the palm of God's hand. It has been stressful and difficult, but there is peace in knowing it isn't all up to me. There is peace in knowing He has a plan (even if it isn't all that clear). What appears to be chaos has order. What appears to be impossible is possible.

On Thursday I got a call back on a job interview. Not only was the manager willing to work around my schedule to allow for me to do a couple waitressing gigs a week (still waiting on that), but he also let me know that while the job wasn't supposed to start until March 1st- I could start Feb 1st.

As I climbed into my car, I giggled to myself. I felt like God was sitting in that room screaming "take the job!"

Sometimes the Hard Thing and the Right Thing Are the Same.

Is it too much to ask that there be a decent paying and somewhat interesting job out there???

I've been in a bit of a funk today. I let my boss know that I'm burnt. I called him and just burst into tears. I don't know if he could hear much of what I was saying through all my blubbering, but he understood my heart.

Never in my life have I ever been so emotional about giving my notice. When I broke the news to the staff member coming in to relieve me last night, tears started spilling onto her cheeks and I reprimanded her (I'll only be boss a little longer, gotta make it count) because she was getting me started all over again.

I am an emotional wreck right now. I know that I am doing what is right, but the people I work with and for have been family to me. There has been such an intense bond formed between all of us. Everyone has poured their hearts and souls out... it has been so much more than a "job" and it is so hard to know that soon it will all be a memory.

I think it's also that I have kept everything bundled up deep inside, and finally being able to step back and realize how I am really doing; being made aware that the time has come for me to take a bow has opened up those floodgates. January will be the month of tears. I kinda picture myself as Alice in Wonderland when she almost drowned in her own tears. I am just glad I'm a strong swimmer.

I've applied for a handful of jobs, but none of them have me anywhere near as excited and nervous as I was for this job. The pay ain't great either (yes mom, you were right, life sucks if you don't finish school). It seems so dumb to go into debt working at a job you don't care about.

Then Scotty said, "why don't you go to school this fall?"

I had thought that I would continue to work for the next 2 years and get him through school, but $12/hr isn't gonna do that for us.

One of the things my finance book has taught me is that too often young people get distracted by the money that they totally miss out on the one thing that we have over our parents:

Time.

There's always time to make money, but no matter how much money you make you can never get time.

In an ideal world I would be able to maintain 80 hr work weeks and pay for Scotty's school and put $ aside for design school, but I missed that day when they were handing out "ideal."

So I did it. I've applied for the Fall 2010 semester and I might just take that mindless, poorly paying job and work like the dickens on my portfolio over the next 4 months.

Or maybe I'll get that office position at an architectural firm downtown (which would be perfection!) I've applied for.

... who knows what'll happen.

Honey We're Going Down Sinking.

Patience is not my strongest trait… sometimes I can appear to be endlessly patient when, in fact, it is just that I am an incredibly stubborn person.

The other night as I stood sobbing in Scotty’s arms, I had finally let myself admit that I am done at the group home that I poured so much of myself in to over these past 3 years.

I left for Hawaii on my knees, I came back thinking I would be on my feet again, but the other night I was flat on my face.

Too much has happened to recount here, but God is on the move and whether I like it or not, He’s dragging my stubborn butt along. So many things over these past few months have brought me to this moment I never would have guessed would come so soon.

I am not sure yet when I will take that final bow, I am leaving the exact timing of it to God, but it’s near.

I have always said that I will leave this job the moment I start to become jaded because these kids have seen enough jaded, and I love them enough to refuse to be part of that illness that is all too common in the ministry.

Jesus was never jaded, and if I cannot bring Jesus- I won’t go.

I have watched him reach out to these shattered little girls of His. I have felt my heart break a million times. I have cried so many tears. Been enraged at the injustices and felt heavy hearted. But He goes about His work. He knows them so well. He’s given me words when He wanted to comfort, and silenced me when He wanted me to listen. I've loved and hoped when it didn’t make sense to, and have stared into the bewildered face of a girl who experiences His grace for the first time. I have felt love for a kid who comes with a bunch of “warning labels.” He’s turned my other cheek, and pointed out the plank in my own eye.

If I could sum up what I’ve learned over these past 3 years it would be this: God doesn’t make any sense.

His timing is off. He acts before I’m ready or doesn’t act soon enough. He rarely ever gives me what I ask for. More often than not, He gives me just the opposite. I took on this job to help these shattered little girls pick up the pieces, but instead, God used them to shatter my defenses. And made it clear that only He can pickup those pieces. Only he can put us back together. Only He can heal the broken. Initially, I had thought I would come into the job on a white horse and save all these poor, troubled youths. He rode in on a donkey … my white horse bucked me off and is nowhere to be seen and I am leaving this job on my face.

There’s a line in the movie “This Christmas” that says something to the effect of this: “If you want to make the Lord laugh, tell Him the plans you had for your life.”

Impatience kicked in when I finally admitted it is time to move on. Impatient to just get out of here and get started on whatever is next. The dread of having to go back to work for another 24 hours hung over me all day on Sunday. As I drove into work last night, I started to pray. I prayed for patience and immediately started to sing that old cheesy hymn “trust and obey, for there’s no other way, to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.” Had someone else sung me that song earlier that day, I would have cuffed them. Several times. But it came to a prepared heart and provided a lot of comfort. As I got closer to the home I prayed, “God, I know I am burnt out and that you are encouraging me to move on, but I don’t want to finish my job on this sinking ship, I want to walk with you on water.”

More Change Than I Was Ready For.

Didn't expect to come back to such a bummer mood.

I kinda feel like I did after returning home from our wedding down in the Dominican Republic.

I just find myself standing here saying "now what?"

I know, boo-flippin'-hoo. I don't expect anyone to feel bad for me. A lot of you are probably gleefully rubbing your hands together. I even think I sound really lame. Big fat whiner.

It was going well until I realized that I'm in no better of a place having gotten away from work than I was before I left for those 17 glorious days.

Burnout.

I'm afraid I might be done. No matter what I try to do, I just don't have it in me anymore.

"Now what?"

I have no clue. But it's time to stop ignoring my own needs. I'm drained dry emotionally and psychologically as far as my job goes.

I've spoken to my mom and my husband and they both agreed: it's time to move the heck on.

Wonder how many ways I can make ramen?

Never Further Away From My Next Vacation Than Now.

Video-taped the “reunion” with my cats. Fell into my bed and wondered if it was this cloud-like before we left. Slept, like a log. Woke up and had a drawn out argument with myself whether to go back to sleep of not. Captain “responsible” won and I dragged myself out of bed at 10am. Is it possible to have jet lag on a 2 hour time difference? I think I just have vacation hang over. I overindulged in too much R&R and now I can’t stop. Couldn’t put one thing together for breakfast. Drank coffee. Black. Washed 7 loads of laundry. Tracked sand all over my house. Refused to sweep it up. Went grocery shopping. $167 spent in 40 mins. Moved piles of stuff from one room to the next. Realized I was spreading out the mess more than unpacking. Decided to cook instead. Zuppa Toscana soup (like olive garden). Played with my newest lovebird (I never say “no” to other people’s unwanted pets… even the rat I was somewhat scared of). Got angry with no-name bird because she bit my ear. Pouted in the living room and ate chocolates. Pushed the piles around some more. Looked at the tornado I made and said, “your Sunday-self is gonna hate you.” Went for a walk in the rain. Heart hurt a little when I saw the vegetation they ripped out along the stairs to the beach. Turned the IPOD off and listened to the rain drops being swallowed by the ocean. Took some deep breaths and smiled at the beauty of this place I call home. Got stared down by a heron. Swore he was judging me. Ran into a friend at the top of the stairs. Got into a conversation. Realized it was a bad choice to be talking so long when the rain soaked through my last layer of clothing. Walk turned into a run when I could no longer feel my hands. Ran like the dickens to try to warm up. Cold and breathless, never warm. Hot bath. Packed for work. Bid farewell to the Villa for the next 24 hrs. Fought the feeling of dread on the way in. 

My first 18 hrs home.

Computer. I. Hate. You.

I've been trying to sign-in to my blog for the past 30 mins.... my computer might not live through the night. 

"Account does not exist" keeps popping up.

Grrr.

At 3 pm Hawaii- Time

My dance card is up, tomorrow afternoon I will board that plane and head back for Vancouver. Back to my life.

First I must say that the Doliente's have been INCREDIBLE hosts to us. Not one day has gone by that I haven't thanked God for them. We have had the most amazing holiday with them. They have been endlessly generous, and have really made us feel so welcome.

I met Ang back in 1998 when her, Scotty, and I all met at Camp Qwanoes as CIT's. Quite a few of those camp friendships have lasted, and I am so thankful that Ang is one of those people. She has always been a girl who knows how to have a good time. I can't even begin to count the laughs I have shared with her. She's my hero because she really can hold her own with the guys. The other day we went "mountain biking" (take that title very lightly b/c it was more of a bike ride down a slight grade dirt road, but in my world it was pretty bad ass). and she not only kicked my sorry butt whilst 17 weeks pregnant (this girl has no fear), but she taught me that the foot I have in front while surfing should also be the pedal I hold to the front while screaming (coasting) down a huge (minor) hill.

She also managed to stay on her bike. I, however, tried to cross over the grassy meridian and bumped her back wheel, gave a loud scream, and tumbled right into the tall grass on the other side of the road completely breathless with laughter.

With Ang, I always know I will have a great time no matter what we do. She seeks out the adventure in the most menial things in life and makes them memorable. Being friends with her means a more flavourful life...

...And then she went and married this Hawaiian guy named Domi, who, gets along incredibly with Scotty (sometimes I swear they didn't even notice Ang and I were even there) and has all these great friends and family members in Hawaii who have totally taken us in. He also has this place in Kalihi, which I know Scotty and I will get totally "homesick" for, that he now shares with Ang and wants all their Canadian friends to come stay with them while they're here...

...tough deal.

This has really been the most unbelievable trip. So many memories made, so many laughs shared. We really struck it rich this Christmas and New Years, and I know they've played a huge part in making our lives better. I believe something has changed inside of me over these past 17 days. I have experienced God's joy, felt peace and got belly-aches from all the laughter.


Dolientes = JOY.

Then there is you.

I haven't stopped thinking about you. You've been in my thoughts and prayers this whole time. Stepping away from my life for nearly 3 weeks has allowed me to see just how blessed I am. I am blessed to call you family (whether by blood, marriage of friendship), and I know I don't see you near enough. You have played a major role in my life since I met you. I pray that our journeys will continue together for quite some time.

I believe this year will be the "year of blessing"- not that I will receive "bigger and better" blessings, but that I will come to realize just how blessed I already am. My life is unique, not like any other person's life, and God has blessed me with exactly what I need... this year I believe he will show me just how true that is.

Stepping away, just for this short while, has made me miss you... like crazy (no matter how small of a role you might believe you play in my life, yet I guarantee it's much larger than you believe).

Tomorrow I will come home feeling like the luckiest girl. I can't wait to get back to my life. I am filled with wonder, hope and joy and am feeling bathed in blessing.

The spirit is moving and I am excited.

I plan on waking up before we head to the airport and taking pictures of this crazy neighbourhood and I'll post them when I've traded in my "slippers" for boots and woollen socks and my sundresses for layers of sweaters, coats and mittens. I'll be back at the group home instead of staring at the surf... it's time.


See you on the other side!

We're Luxurious Like Egyptian Cotton

The first 3 days of 2010 may have been spent here

Just when we didn't think it could get any better (free accommodations? seeing all the best Oahu has to offer? getting tickets to see "Stomp" as a Christmas present?)... the Doliente's dropped the most amazing love bomb on us and we got 3 nights at the nicest hotel I have ever stayed at... one night was at the "friends and family rate" and the other 2 nights were free!

Do you hate me yet?

My Hair Smells like Firecrackers and There's a Burn in My Dress.

New Years Eve in Hawaii is all about the “boom, boom… FIREPOWER!”

Ang wasn’t lying when she said that every house in Hawaii purchases firecrackers and fireworks for the big night. By 5pm, we were under fire. Being that Domi and Ang’s place is situated in a pretty steep valley, the echo made it sound like entire houses were being blown up.


I called my friend Jac to wish her a happy NYE and I could barely make out what I was saying let alone her, so I was super rude and didn’t talk to anyone else who was at her place (sorry friends).

(Scored this dress off the "vintage" rack at Talize. You should go, or don't go, leave more for me)

Scotty and I put down $50 on some firecrackers at the Drug store. I didn’t think I would be that into lighting them off so I opted for sparklers and snappers (the ones you just have to throw to make them pop).

I like to fit in, so I did choose two bigger ones.


The animals on it made it look friendly, and if I'm gonna lose an arm, I'd like it to be blown off in a "friendly" way.

They all have the greatest names, but these two were my favourite out of the drug store selection.


Then Scotty came walking around the corner with this one and proved he was exponentially cooler than I.


What $50 worth of boom-boom looks like… enough to keep the party going for 3 mins.


Usually you would want to stay away from places where people are burning fires in garbage cans, or in their bbq’s. Normally a roaring garbage can fire spells d-a-n-g-e-r, but here it says, “happy new year neighbour.”


$3 t-shirt I scored at the ABC store (I really love those places!). I bought it as somewhat of a joke (still expecting Scotty to wear it), and then Domi's local buddies thought it was pretty cool- especially that it was only $3.



Is it New Years or a 4th of July party?

Our carriage. Until the torrential downpour. Luckily we weren't out of the driveway. I threw a towel over my head to protect the hair I actually styled for once (Ang's Filipino auntie was asking what was wrong with her hair today- we've grown rather accustomed to not using brushes- between the beach and the humidity, there's zero point). I nearly fell out of the back of the truck trying to scramble over the tail-gate in my long dress, in the dark with a towel completely blocking where I was going. I think I lost my "happy new years" crown when I ran into the side of the house before making it into the cab. Losing that crown really got to me: I had made a point to get the crown for me and the top hat for Scotty with dreams of having some really tacky portraits taken of us.

My dream was left wet and bent in the driveway in Kalihi while we drove over to watch the cousins blow of their fireworks/crackers.

Downpour was still happening and so was the light show as we sped down the freeway with Scotty getting drenched in the back of the pickup. Don't worry, he loved every second of it.

When we pulled up, this is what we saw... and continued to breathe in for the next 3 hours.


The boys said "help yourself" and help myself I did. I may have blown up a 3rd of what was in here... I'm a bit of a pyro, who knew? Scotty liked to take shoe boxes of them and light them off in bunches. I preferred to lovingly light each one and hold it until it nearly blew up before throwing them into the air.

Just some of the firecrackers the cousins set off that night. They were also working on their big finale ones in the back of the garage.

Sounds like a lovely time.

I would get this one fore my oldest brother, who, used to insist on getting his hair cut like Spok (sp?) and would pridefully throw up the vulcan hand-gesture all the time. He was older than me, so I obviously thought Vulcan's were cool too.

Domi making a bomb.

Pridefully showing off his way-cooler-than-mine firecracker. They guys here are also as obsessed with "Jacob" as he is.


He also got major cool point by buying a box of these.

Kemo's a local, he doesn't have to worry about bursting into flames. I swear I saw a 3 year old lighting fire-crackers...

if you're in your 30's and haven't lost an arm, you obviously know what you're doing

You light. They spin... and then you're left with.....

A beautiful little happy-lamp to commemorate the sparks and flames you got to enjoy.

Lighting off the get-together firecracker I picked out. What the heck am doing in this shot?... sending out my vibe obv.

Ang being a good mama and wearing a mask to avoid all the smoke... Domi being a good dad and making more bombs (baby will be born with four good limbs that he/she can later blow off with dad).

An arty shot for the hipsters

I brought the music. It's the least I could do for blowing off so many of those tiny firecrackers.

Lining up the explosives for the big count down... look at all the debris on the ground (don't worry, everybody sweeps up the next morning, they're not a bunch of animals here).

After a while you begin to get more comfortable around the explosions of flame. I got a little too cocky with one of my little firecrackers that it nearly popped in my hand. I actually let go of it right behind my bum... just when you start to feel good about yourself, you're back to sticking out like a tourist.

Apparently most people get a shot for their canine friends that help them sleep through all the mania. Dinner didn't get the shot.

Domi's mom=awesome.


Running towards an explosion is always a good idea. It's that same thinking that is the reason why most shark attacks that occur in Hawaii happen to Canadians... because we don't have a clue what's going on.

Nice try nerds. Just hold a mirror up to your computer screen folks. We're so smrt that we did about 8 shots and used about 12 sparklers writing it backwards.

Only 4 sparklers left, better make it work.


Not good at all. I'm glad there were four of us and not one of us figured out we were doing it wrong until we wasted all our sparklers.