Comment Box

I introduced a comment box this week. I made the box for A., but anyone can use it. I needed to make the box for A. because he likes to talk to me. All the time. He also likes to sniff my hair, but we are trying to ignore and/or discourage that right now. I love when students participate in class, but I kind of like to stay on topic. A. doesn't like to stay on topic. So, the comment box. A. can now write down all the things he loves to tell me, and I can read them later, when I get a chance. When that happens, I read them and write back, and leave the notes on their desks. Most of them are just asking about missing work, or grades, but there are other silly things, too. I have a long paper on some video game that I need to read Monday. A. would like me to choose which race of alien creatures I would belong to if I were, in fact, an alien. He has a long list of details about each race for me to choose from. A. put more time and effort into that project than he has put into any homework assignment I have given to date. A. hoped I would read it on Friday and asked me aapproximately 417 times if I had read it yet, but unfortunately I did not. I did however, find the time to look up a video of the new Tickle me Elmo doll and share that with the class. We had a nice long discussion on Barney and Elmo and before you tell me those topics are not appropriate for school, I will tell you that it was part of our current events discussion. The Barney show is introducing a fun new dinosaur character to the mix, and the Elmo doll is THE new Xmas toy. So there. You can have your very own Elmo for around $100 from Ebay. I am told that Baby Love would kill for a new Elmo for Xmas, and I would be more than happy to buy her one. I just won't get it in time for Xmas. I will wait approximately 2 weeks after, and will buy it then for $30, from my local Target store, when the shelves are restocked.

The Yachting B's

The boat is finally in the water. It's been there all week and hasn't sunk yet.
We all went out there today to clean it up a little and take it out for a spin. It started out as kind of a gloomy day. It was just a quick ride, and Cali started screaming almost immediately. I ignored it at first, because she does tend toward the melodramatic, but she wouldn't stop, and she had this panicked look on her face, which got worse the farther out we got. She kept twisting around to see the land behind us. She was up on the bridge with us and Joey was down at the front of the boat. He loved it. He just sat back and let the waves rock him. I remember going out on my uncle's boat, and always wanting to be in the front of the boat, pretending like I was flying. He got that love of the water from me. It looks like he's inheriting that whole fishing thing from his dad. It's like we gave him all out water genes and had none left for Cali.
I was trying to figure out how to have my mom babysit her from now on, when G Monkey needed to go down below for a minute. He handed me the wheel and I lazily steered, not too worried since there weren't any other boats or obstacles nearby. Cali saw my distraction and tentatively put her hand out on the wheel. I stepped back to let her take over. Suddenly the skies cleared, the sun was beaming and sweet little darling birdies began to sing their songs of hope. Cali's mind ran into overdrive, shouting, 'I am only 10, but I am driving a BOAT!' and her face almost split from her grin. She steered most of the way back to the dock and we didn't hear another whimper the whole time. (Until the ungodly hour of 12:01 pm when she began screaming about her late lunch, but that's another story)
So all's well that ends well, or more likely, this was a one time thing and if we try to take her out again she will make our lives miserable. I hope mom is available tomorrow.

Why I'm cool

For five minues at the end of the day, on a whim, I'll turn on the radio and let them dance.

Why I'm petty

-I like to hear that recent student teachers aren't as well liked as I was.

-I like to see old classmates signing in to my school as a sub, especially ones that were a little snobby.

Today was a good day (Schell, which song is that from?)

Yesterday was a little poopy. Just one of those days when you feel like not only are you not doing any good, but you are in fact making things worse. So, poopy. Pluse, not a lot of laughing.
Today was better.
I have a student with a cochlear implant. When he's in my room I have to wear this microphone thing around my neck. I teased him the first few days about decorating it with diamonds and pretty pink ribbons for me to make it match my outfit. Totally out of the blue, he shows up today with the thing covered in pink and silver ribbons. He really made me laugh. And then we all laughed when the male teacher had to put it on and I snapped his picture. He is the coolest.
Later, at lunch, I checked my mailbox and found a card from a teacher I met last year who is now retired. It was a very sweet, very funny card congratulating me on my job and inviting me to join him in breaking the seal on his new Bacardi 151. People who send cards are so cool.
Later still, a student told me that so far I am his favorite teacher ever. I didn't believe him, because of course it's a big fat lie, but it was nice to hear.

I havent been feeling funny lately

I like feeling funny. I like when my silliness can make someone else laugh. It hasn't been happening lately though. I try to crack jokes in class and they just look at me. I tried to come up with crazy sentences for our spelling test and they didn't even blink. I need my girls. They always laugh at me. And. They make me laugh. Last Sunday? Two Sundays ago? We were all on the phone, three way calling each other. There were five of us by the time we figured out how to call without hanging up on each other. We talked forever and I laughed the whole time.

Today I had a story that I thought was pretty good. It had a little humor, a little grossness, a little embarrassment- the perfect combination. I told the story to Gary. Here is his response:

"ew."

I told the story to Sarah, who laughed the whole time I was talking and went on and on about how funny it was. Speaking of Sarah, I was wondering something aloud today and picked up my cell phone. A student said, "Why don't you call Sarah and ask her?" It really made me laugh to hear them mention her by name, as if they know her. They were witness to a phone call between us and now think she's their best friend, too. Which is understandable, we all want to be Sarah's BFF.

So here's the story:

I have some diggers in my class. I also have a cold. The diggers go at it whenever the urge strikes. I cough whenever the urge strikes. They aren't embarrassed by their digging. They don't try to hide it with an open book, or while pretending to look in their desks. Right in plain sight, for everyone to see, they just ram it up there and start digging for gold.
It's very distracting to watch. I find myself staring, in awe, while they look back at me with a bland expression on their faces, totally ignoring the finger rammed up a nose in between us. I try to casually mention that there are plenty of boxes of kleenex all around the room, and that anyone can get up whenever he or she likes to help themselves to one. They don't care. Who wants a tissue when a finger works so much better? Finally, I find that I have to call the student's attention to the nose picking to get it to stop. They always have the exact same expression on their faces when I do that. The expression says something like, "Why the heck did you just call my name and why is everyone looking at me? Couldn't you tell I was right in the middle of something and now you've ruined it???"
Anyway, today I had a coughing fit. Sometimes I cough so hard that my gag reflex sets in. Sometimes looking at nose picking makes me want to gag. When you throw it all in the bag you get something like this:
"OK class, cough, cough, please open your cough, gag, cough, books to page 52 gag, cough, gag so we can rrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllpppppppppppphhhhhhhhhh". OK, so I didn't really puke, but that's only because of my strong will and determination. You would have totally puked.

End of the season

Today was the annual Hinckley garage sale. The whole entire township is invited to sell their unwanteds and shoppers are reminded not to park on the main streets. For the most part, Hinckley is not a cookie cutter place, so there is usually a lot of variety at the sales. Mansions are parked a few streets away from crumbling farmhouses. Pack rats live next door to trendsetters. And of course, that favorite garage sale category- baby items- is found at every other house. Which was good this year, because there will be a new addition to the family in April. An ex is pregnant, which I guess technically means that the baby will not be part of the family, but in my family once you find yourself here you can't ever really leave.

This year I bought: a pair of shoes (the ones that look like bowling shoes but way cuter), one of those drink coolers that has a little spout on the bottom, and a big box of books. Plus various snacks and drinks from all the little lemonade stands every 20 feet. I got a ton of books for the classroom but also a handful for me. Which is great, since I haven't been reading much lately. I have to get back on the ball to compete with my students to see who can read 26 books first. I'm also itching to read since I got an email from the Cool One, recommending a book. It's almost fall and I want to snuggle up with a good book and start making all my favorite recipes. That reminds me- I didn't buy any cookbooks this time. That's weird.
I bought most of my books from one woman. She had a bunch of really good books, some that I've already read. I get so used to seeing worn romance novels from the 70's that I was surprised to see so many good books in one place. If I wasn't a big loser, I would have struck up a conversation with the woman and become her best friend.

I also bought a ring for Cali. It's a huge pale blue rock of a thing. I paid five whole dollars for it which is just crazy but she wanted it. That house had a ton of cool old rings. Big huge stones and metal things. I wanted all of them. But I don't wear much jewelery so I didn't buy any. I can't remember to wear my wedding half the time. More than half. While I was there I managed to kick over a container that held all these little drawers filled with jewelery. Everything was upside down and I had to try to figure out how to right it back up without all the drawers falling out. I wasn't very successful.

I'm a little sad that garage sale season is officially over. I have to shop at real stores for the rest of the year.

What I love

My kids. They are good ones. I fond that I like them better the more I get to know them. Which is way better than the alternative. I love that they always want me to think of jobs for them to do. I never reward them beyond a thank you, but they keep coming back for more.

My subjects. I love leading a discussion on the book we are reading. I love leading a discussion on the current events we are learning. I love when they make a connection and their hand shoots up into the air. I love answering their questions with a question.

The other staff. They are all nice. They are all helpful. I don't think they think I am a snob because I don't eat lunch with them. I was always too busy to stop for lunch and now I don't even know where they eat, so I couldn't join them if I wanted to. The logical choice would be the staff lunch room, but my own room just seems so much safer.

The end of the day, when everyone's gone. I turn on the radio, kick off my shoes and roam the halls. I put everything back in order and almost always pause for one last look before I turn off the light.

What I don't like

Homework. Some of them don't do it. They just don't bring it home, and they don't bother to do it during free times at school. They raise their hands and say, "Mrs. B, I forgot to do my homework". Then they look at me like they expect me to magically make it appear. I think I'll get a wand and wave it around one of these days.

Meetings. I've been late to 2 already because I keep forgetting about them. I dutifully write them on my calendar, but then I never check it. The only reason I made it to these meetings was because teachers walked by my room and say, oh, why arent you at the meeting? I hate looking like I don't know what I'm doing. I had problems with library, and computer class, both because I'm new and don't know stuff. I hate not knowing stuff.

Teaching two subjects. In middle school I taught one. I know, some teachers teach all the subjects. I don't care. I still don't like it. If I can teach one, I can tailor it perfectly and spend more time on it. Lessons suffer when I have to divide myself between two subjects. I never have enough time to do anything. Just when I think I get a little caught up, the week is over and I need material for 5 more days.

50 degree mornings and 80 degree afternoons. There should not be a 20-30 difference in degrees in one day. And it should never be 80 degrees. 80 degrees outside means my room is 180 degrees. If I turn the fans on to try to cool off, then I can't hear anything because they are too loud. There is a student in one of the lower grades who needs his environment climate controlled. There is an air conditioner that moves with him each year. I want that student when he's in 5th grade.

The other new teacher in the building. Apparently she is perfect. She also looks like a supermodel.

Open House

Open house was this week. They told me a little what to expect, and what I should talk about and pass out. They did not, however, tell me what I should do in the moments between the first parent arriving and when I actually began talking. I am one of the most awkward people you could be around in any possible social setting and these little pockets of small talk cause near panic attacks for me. It was made worse by the first parent being deaf, and somehow walking in without the interpreter. I signed the two things I had taught myself the day before, and then stumbled along until the interpreter showed up.

Once I began talking, I sounded boring and noticed that the parents were almost falling asleep. Their faces were blank- I have no idea if they liked anything I said or if it completely offended them. One parent kept making quizzical faces, but they always seemed to occur at odd moments in my talk, so I was never sure how to clarify. I tried a couple times to be funny, but no one laughed. It was nice seeing the parents, but overall it kinda sucked. And, of course, many of the ones I would really want to talk to didn't show up. No one screamed at me though, so it must have been a success.

My new bedroom....and the old fish

My Classroom

Happy Loser

I passed a teacher in the hall late on Friday. She teased me about it being Friday and I was still smiling. Teachers usually are too stressed out by Friday to smile until they get home and relax for a few hours. But I'm still so happy to have a job that I smile all week long. I am really really loving it.
This year we are doing a reading marathon- 26 books each. I have had almost no time to read since school started so I am trying to make myself read more. I have a book that I started weeks ago and am still no where near finishing it. The kids will be on mile five before I get my first one read.
I am also making them read newspapers every week. And write about the articles. And discuss the articles. I have had almost no time to read the paper, so I've been making sure to listen to NPR every time I'm in the car.
No books, no papers, no TV (except for Deadwood, which is over now, anyway), no long rambling phone calls every day, no wild parties. I'm a loser. But I'm happy.

Vote for Ted

Mr. Blackwell (some of you may remember his name from the Ohio voting fiasco) is running for govenor. He is a god fearing republican ( at least he is this election) who is greatly concerned about upholding god's wishes. Mr. Blackwell is promising to work hard to protect that sacred marriage union. Oh, except he won't be protecting mine because mine is not in any danger. Unless you count the danger of one more family neglecting fishing trip, and I know he's not promising to put an end to perch season so he really can do nothing for my marriage. Oh, and there are some marriages that he won't protect, either. Only certain people are guaranteed his protection. I'm not exactly sure how you qualify, there's so much confusing criteria, but anyway, if you are one of those people, he will work very hard to protect you. He is so concerned about this that he is ignoring all the other lesser issues, little things like Cleveland being the poorest big city in the nation.
Recently, to show how big hearted and forgiving he is, he mentioned that he will also protect another one of my rights- the right to not believe in god. That darling little man is giving me permission to not believe in god. He is so thoughtful. Do you want to know his reason? His reason for protecting me is because everyone has the right to be wrong! I have the right to be wrong and not believe in god because of course it is wrong to not believe in god. But that is my right. And we all have this right.
Allright, just to make sure everyone is on the same page:
Right to be wrong, check
Right to be married, no
Right to have your marriage proteced if you meet today's criteria: check.
Thank you Mr Blackwell, you have secured my vote.

week 2

A police officer was killed this week. The bullet maddeningly squeezed through the one little vulnerable spot in his vest. I am usually a practical person but I'm finding that as I get older, I am less so. Watching the tv coverage showing the front of the hospital brought back all the memories of my brother's shooting. I didn't know how serious it was until I saw him and walking past all those policemen lining the halls was unbelievably difficult. They all want to offer some comfort, but at the same time they are also witnessing your pain and that's the part I don't really like. I like my pain private.

When my sister called to tell me the details of the shooting I was at school, getting ready for class. Listening to her, I found myself crying. Crying for that officer and his family, but also crying for my brother and myself. I composed myself and walked back to my room. Of course, on the way, when I paused to wipe my eye one more time, while saying, "Don't worry, I'll be ok", a teacher just happened to walk by and see me. So now I'm the new crybaby. Except that probably not true. He was kind and concerned, and I'm sure not telling everyone that I'm a crybaby. But still.

So I feel stupid for crying in front of him. I feel awful for the family. I feel for one of my students who is also mourning a loss this week. But I think most of all, I have a new fear that I will lose my brother. It is squeezing my chest so hard I can't breathe.