If you don't have a novel to read, then write one!

I have a huge assignment due Tuesday for my "Curriculum Foundations" class. I have to write my cultural autobiography and reflect on how my background and experiences shape how I interact with students, as well as how my background and experiences relate to my role as an educator. It's turning out to be quite in-depth: twelve categories with anywhere from five to thirteen sub-questions per category... and then the reflection.

I don't mind the assignment. Who doesn't like talking about themselves? Especially when you're as fascinating as me? (kidding there, of course... or was I?)

Anyways, some of the questions required information that I'm a little sketchy on, so I had to make a few phone calls to the grandparents. I learned some interesting things that I didn't know before.

First, my maternal grandmother has her masters degree!! That's quite an accomplishment for a woman back in the day... Way to go for sticking it to society, grandma!

Second, my paternal grandmother (who is 100 percent Chinese) has two names. The first was given to her by her grandfather. This is her formal Chinese name. Her second name, the one everyone knows her by here in the U.S, was given to her by the nurse who delivered her. Grandma jokes that the nurse happened to like old-fashioned names--she named the first three girls Bessie, Annie, and Minnie.

I will let all of my non-family readers (all 3 of you) guess which of the three names belongs to my grandma by studying the picture below of a two-year-old version of me sitting on grandpa's lap:

Summer Reading

It's been awhile since I've been truly hooked on a book series. I believe the last time was the summer of 2004 when I read the "Mark of the Lion Series" by Francine Rivers. I have read lots of books since that time, but no series has gripped my attention to the exclusion of all other activities.

.... until the "Twilight" Series by Stephenie Meyer. Those of you "in the know" about children's literature may wonder if a story about a teenage girl falling in love with a vampire is beneath me, but I can assure you it is NOT! And apparently there are a lot of adults out there who would agree with me. I'm not typically into science fiction novels, but this series is the exception. The themes throughout the story (like love, acceptance, and addiction) are timeless!

It seems that there are a lot of other people out there (teenage girls? romance enthusiasts? undercover vampires?) who want to read the series at this point in time. It's probably because the fourth and last book is coming out on August 2nd. At any rate, it means that a cheap-o like me who's not going to run out and buy the books has to wait an excruciatingly long time to reserve a copy from the library. I'm currently next in line to get a hold of the second book, and the past week and a half have been ABSOLUTE TORTURE. A frustrating lesson in patience.

For those of you who aren't sure if you want to invest the time to read the book, there's always The Twilight Movie (hopefully it will do the book justice!). Click to view the trailer.

But His Puppets Are Still Scary

Things I hated as a child and now love as an adult:

• Naps
• Spinach
• Baths
• Wiping my nose on a tissue
  
• Mr. Rogers

I was thinking of Mr. Rogers today as I hashed out my "philosophy of education" assignment for class. Something he once said seems to encompass what I believe about education:

"It's easy to convince people that children need to learn the alphabet and numbers. How do we help people to realize that what matters is how a person's inner life finally puts together the alphabet and numbers of his outer life? What really matters is whether he uses the alphabet for the declaration of war or the description of a sunrise, and his numbers for the final count in Buchenwald or for the specifics of a new bridge" (Fred Rogers)

Amen.

Something New

Well, I may not know what I'm going to do when I grow up, but I do know that I wanted to change a few things on my blog. Obviously the layout is different; I've also added some labels and links to the side. Now if only I would use my hours of free time to clean the house, you might be able to see the floor and the counters around here!

Life Choices and Cereal Choices

Today was my first day of school... first day of my "Masters of Curriculum and Instruction" program, that is.

The decision to enter into this particular program of study was pressured. I felt pressured to start taking some credits to renew my teaching license. And why not apply those credits towards a Masters? When I started looking into available masters programs out there, I was disappointed. Very few masters programs are related to special education (the Masters of Special Education is for teachers who have no background in special ed; i.e: not me). After much conversation with colleagues and with the hubby, I decided that the Masters of C & I would be the best option for me, out of all the pitiful options there were. I also chose to apply my courses towards a degree knowing that we probably won't stay where we are for more than one year (meaning I'd have to drop out of the program and hope I could transfer my credits).

So it was with mixed enthusiasm that I went to class today. Early on in the two hour class, our professor said: "This is the most important thing: Begin with the end in mind". This was the point at which, if I was being honest with myself, I would have run out of the room, crawled into a hole somewhere, and rocked myself while humming as loudly as possible to block out the one question that has been on my mind lately: WHAT DO I WANT TO DO WHEN I GROW UP???

The problem is that I have always been goal-driven. In high school, I knew I wanted to teach children who were deaf/hard-of-hearing, go to a Christian college, and be finished in five years. So I found the only college in the U.S that met all of my criteria, and then I showed up. No matter that I had never set foot in the state of Michigan before. No matter that nobody I knew from high school chose the same college. No matter that they closed the program when I was halfway through it. No matter that it cost a small fortune to go there. None of this stopped me. Two other important goals in the past three years were to find a teaching job.... and I did. And I don't mean to say that I did this all on my own, because the Lord himself knows I didn't. The point being, I've always worked toward a goal.

So what is a goal-less girl to do? Without any strong sense of direction, I'm just like a sailboat drifting aimlessly in the ocean. A flight with no destination. An architect with no vision. A poet at a fork in the road. It's an uncomfortable place to be; and I'm only just beginning to empathize with what Max went through (and is still going through!).

Begin with the end in mind. What is my end? Do I want to be a classroom teacher forever? If so, do I want to stay a resource room teacher? A deaf/hard-of-hearing teacher? A regular teacher? Do I want to become a teacher consultant? A reading remediation specialist? An administrator? A special education administrator? Do I want to teach at the college level? If so, in which area of concentration?

I seem to be looking down an impossibly long cereal aisle. If someone could just put what I need in my cart, that would be great. Thanks.

The Waiting Game

I'm still playing the waiting game. Never mind that I'm not looking for a job, not looking for someone to call me about an interview, not waiting to hear if I've gotten the job. I'm waiting on the other side of things.

We need to hire a new Resource Room teacher for the fall. Last week, I sat in on the second round of interviews (My principal said she would sift through the 100+ applications before she called me in. Apparently her criteria was "local" and "just out of college"). Both of the candidates seemed to be very nice girls. By the end of both interviews, I felt like they would both do a good job. Then I started thinking that one would do better than the other... and the assistant principal agreed with me. She was going to check in with the principal at the end of last week and call our top choice this week. As far as I can tell, that has not happened yet.

And I'm starting to get antsy about it; after all, I'll be working very closely with whoever they hire, so I have a particular interest in seeing the right person get hired. I've snooped around and found the MySpace profile of our top choice. She had the good sense to make her profile private, but I do notice from her updates that she's been interviewing at quite a few other schools.

I wish the powers that be would get hopping on this one!!

O Canada

Well, we're back from a whirlwind trip to Montreal! We spent one evening and one full day there. Max and I decided that the most cost-efficient way to see the city was by foot... So we walked for ten and a half hours on Friday. We maybe could have gotten away with just seven hours of walking, but we got lost twice. Here are some of the highlights of our trip:


Eating crepes. This one is made with ham, cheese, and egg. Yum!










Here we are at the top of Mount Royal, overlooking the city.
Gorgeous views! It was worth the hike and the 250 stairs!







We walked through many streets like this one. Sometimes I had to remind myself that I was still in North America!









Here I am enjoying a giant plate of "Moules frites" which is French for "mussels and fries". Kudos to Montreal for serving my fries with mayonnaise instead of ketchup (they're more French than I gave them credit for!). This picture was taken after eight hours of walking. We were sunburned and sore and oh so hungry. We walked another two hours after dinner, trying to find Old Town to buy a magnet. Both of my legs broke from all the walking, but at least we got our magnet! Proof that we were there!

Back... and Gone Again

My long weekend with my long-time friend who I hadn't seen in a LONG time was fabulous! On Saturday, we spontaneously attended the 16th annual barbecue battle in downtown Washington D.C. We stood in line for two hours to get to the free samples. There were about two hundred feet of tables set up and we were both quite full (and sunburned) by the end of it. Here I am posing with the Oscar Meyer Wiener-Mobile. I resisted the urge to sing the song.


On Sunday we went to the International Spy Museum (which was well worth the entrance fee). The spy museum was actually the best museum I've ever been to... and I've been to quite a few. I would highly recommend it to anyone who's visiting the area. We got to climb through vents in the wall, identify people in disguise, and see lots of vintage espionage equipment used throughout history. Did you know that the NSA shreds 40,000 pounds of paper a day... and that the shredded documents are then recycled into pizza boxes? True story.

We walked a lot around the city, and went to a great Mexican restaurant to celebrate her birthday. It was a such a fun weekend that we both vowed to reunite annually instead of letting another four years go by!

Tomorrow, the husband and I are off on a spontaneous trip to Montreal. I will finally get to find out if they speak REAL French there!

Fly

Yesterday, Max and I were entertained for a long time watching our cat Mowgli hunt a fly. Usually, I hate flies in the house during the summer, but the cats seem to think that flies are candy, and behave as such when they see one. Mowgli reminded me of a boxing prairie dog the way she was up on her hind legs and swinging in the air with her front paws. If only I'd had the camera nearby! Even more amusing is when she would take a running leap into the air (paws swinging wildly) in an effort to trap the unsuspecting fly. At one point, she even climbed to the top of the treadmill for a height advantage. But in the end, it was our patient hunter Gizmo who finally ate the tasty treat. She calmly waited until the fly came to her, then trapped it between her paw and the floor. Our cats are way better than fly swatters!

In other news, I fly to Washington D.C area today to visit a good friend of mine I haven't seen in three years! I'll update when I get back next week!

At Least I Didn't Cry This Time

For months now, I've wanted to do something different with my hair. Drastic. But not too drastic, because, you know, deep down I'm a wuss. I've never quite been able to forget those many, many times I would come back from the hair dresser in AGONIZING TEARS because there is nothing so traumatic as feeling ugly when you're 16.

So I'm sitting in the salon, telling Sophie that I want something "new, fun, fresh, light, different". She starts flipping through a magazine and says "how about this cut?" Well, the model looked great of course, so I said Sure! and out came the scissors and off went my glasses.

Now, mind you, I'm blind when I don't wear my glasses--and you can't wear glasses when you're getting a haircut. So she's cutting, and I'm squinting through a curtain of bangs at the blurry new vision of me in the mirror. Everything looks fine as far as I can tell. It's short, but not too short... and I can tell my bangs will look different.

Then Sophie applies roughly a bucket of mousse to my hair and starts in with the blow dryer. After about fifteen minutes, she swivels me around to face the mirror and says "Ta da!" (Okay, she didn't really say that, but she may as well have). I smile because all I can see is what looks to be like an impressionistic painting of me. I reach for my glasses, and ...

Uh-oh. Can anyone say 1995? I am just too young to have BIG HAIR. I pouted all the way back to the car, amidst scoffing stares of passers-by (how do you know they weren't scoffing or staring? You weren't there...). I walked in the house and warned Max that it was disastrous. He managed to make me feel a little better about it. Between his tact and my hairbrush, I was able to tame my new giant 90's hairdo into something hopefully a bit more presentable:


You will all just have to take my word on how bad it was before I got home!!

Final Bell

Today was the last day of school.

I know, I know... you're all thinking: "But Sarah, you've been so calm! Where was the countdown? When was the freaking out? I didn't hear you whine about how the kids are driving you crazy!"

Well as it turns out, the end-of-the-year for a resource room teacher is A LOT more laid back than for a classroom teacher. The difference? The kids. Much as I love them, students make you loopy in June. But as a resource room teacher, I just conveniently left them in their classrooms so that they could enjoy their end of the year activities, and I could tackle a mountain load of paperwork. This week went by calmly, efficiently, quietly. Even quickly!

And now begins the time I like to call: "Doing Whatever I Want Whenever I Want To". Hurray!!

For She's a Jolly Good Fellow

Today the entire special education staff went to a Mexican restaurant to celebrate the successful end of my colleague's first year of teaching. It doubled as a goodbye party too because she is moving on to greener pastures next year in a school closer to home. I'm not sure what it is about Mexican restaurants that appeal to teacher parties (this is the third consecutive year I've had an end-of-the-year party at Mexican restaurant!). Maybe it's because the environment is stereotypically loud and colorful.... just makes us teachers feel right at home!

Anyways, we sent off my dear friend with cards, tributes, and gifts for her new classroom: disinfecting wipes, baby wipes, air sanitizer, band-aids, DVD's, and a trophy (which she worked HARD to earn, let me tell you). She loved all of it, of course, but I think what she would rather have liked to do is to take our entire special ed staff and bring us with her to her new job...

J, you will be missed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Master List or Master of Lists

Despite my protesting body, I did drag myself to work today. I had two good reasons to do so:

1) I have work to do before the end of the school year (Friday)
2) If I had to stay cooped up in this house for one more day, I would have gone insane!! No, really.

And it's amazing what can get done when I don't see any kids! I crossed some major items off of my to-do list. It was a such a deeply satisfying feeling to check things off that list. I briefly considered making up another list full of things I've accomplished, just so I could cross off more items. But that would make me out to be crazy. And I'm not crazy... Crazy is when you write a list of all your lists so you can keep track of them all.

Yes, I'm talking about you Rebekah!

For Real

see more dog pictures

Cause for Alarm

... and there were many today.

Cause #1: My principal comes to my office and says: "I'm just going to cut to the chase" (uh-oh) "I really value honesty" (UH-OH) "Did you put an anonymous, angry letter in my box about two weeks ago?" [WHEW! No way, that was not me at all]. Interesting discussion ensued.

Cause #2: Huge IEP (yearly meeting to determine individual goals and accommodations) scheduled for 1:00 today. It happened to be the transition IEP of this little fellow. Transition IEP's are run by the special ed. team from whatever district/school the child is coming to us from. Anyways, this one is a big deal. I got a phone call at 8:45 AM informing me that the IEP team members were at the front office, waiting for me to start the meeting. Apparently, when the other IEP team rescheduled the meeting from 1:00 to 9:00, they neglected to tell us!!

When I realize this, I am talking myself down from panic. Breathe in, breathe out. Nobody knows you're freaking out, so just pretend that you're not! Then I had to go conjure up two substitutes on the fly (so the classroom teacher and aide could attend the meeting) and pull our principal out of an awards assembly.

It all ended up working out okay; my heart stopped racing halfway into the meeting.

Cause #3: Ordered takeout from Panera Bread today. About halfway through my yummy salad, just as I am lifting the fork to my mouth, I notice HALF A LADYBUG stuck to my lettuce!! Ewwww. It would have been so much better if I had just found a whole ladybug, because where did that other half go???

Cheetoh Tummy-ache

That's what I'm left with after a celebration today. Today was the last day that I saw kids (yep, the resource room is closing up shop so we can tackle a mountain of paperwork next week!), and there was one student in particular that deserved a party. She had come SOOO far since the beginning of the year. She was so shy and fearful at the beginning... she didn't look me in the eye for two weeks when I saw her one-on-one. She was two grade levels behind and she would just sit in her regular classroom, helpless. Today, she's a cheerful, confident student! She asks her teachers for work; she takes real pride in her accomplishments; she's just blossomed!

So since I knew that she loved "Hot Cheetohs", I decided that a Cheetoh party was in order. She wrote out invitations (on orange Cheetoh shaped paper, of course) and handed them out to all the teachers who had helped her this year. We all spent a fun time together, eating Cheetohs (three different kinds!) and playing Blink.

She has gotten so skilled and fast at Blink that I no longer need to give her less cards for the advantage. She can actually beat me when we have the same amount of cards and when I'm TRYING to win. Never thought that would happen! I'm fiercely proud of her. She alone gives me a compelling reason to come back to my job this fall!

Top Ten Ways to Procrastinate

How to successfully avoid working at work:

1. Make a list of everything you need to get done before the end of the school year
2. Tack said list to the bulletin board and admire your organizational skills
3. Make a checklist in excel to mark off each progress report finished (Note: start writing progress reports later)
4. Take a ninety minute “business” lunch
5. Print off travel itinerary for the summer
6. Shuffle papers into a neater pile
7. Call Mom and Dad in France
8. Stare at the summer countdown posted on the white board
9. Refill water bottle
10. Check LOLcats frequently throughout the day
    

more cat pictures

The "Reading Lady" Strikes Again

I was asked to be a part of "Civil War Day" today. All second graders and eighth graders (plus a small army of volunteers) drove about thirty minutes to an outdoor camp by a lake to learn about the Civil War. They had a bunch of different stations: a cooking station, a first aid station, a weapons station, etc. Groups of fifteen kids rotated between stations every half an hour. A couple of Civil War Re-enactors feven ired off their muskets in a demonstration at the end!

My station was the "Paint a flag/Storytelling" one. The kids got fifteen minutes to paint a flag, and fifteen minutes to listen to ME tell Civil War stories! I borrowed an outfit from a colleague (all the other volunteers rented costumes) and I had a lot of fun walking around in my swooshy skirt. I used to play dress-up A LOT as a kid. Mom had a big dress-up-box full of dresses, "pearl" necklaces, high heeled shoes, and gaudy clip on jewelry--it was the best. But I digress.

I had some picture books with me, but quickly discovered that the kids were bored stiff if I just read from them. So I jumped around between two books, talking in my Excited Teacher Voice (complete with Excited Facial Expressions and Grandiose Gestures). I enthralled each group with tales of brave drummer boys and courageous nurses.... FOURTEEN TIMES!! I talked for three hours straight! Whew! I think I am now prepared to teach a college class (because that's apparently the only skill they need to have to be hired...)

All in all, despite the bugs and the heat, it was a great time. I felt a little bad about our station... definitely didn't seem as exciting as all the other stations. But when it was all over, a volunteer/mom came up to me and told me that I had done a good job and that her son "liked the 'reading lady' best."

Yay for field trips!

Every Party Has a Pooper

Sniff, Sniff

Sniff, Sniff

That's what I was doing today in my office at around ten thirty. I had my three first graders working with me, and every time I got near the boy (I'll call him N), I got a whiff of .... something.

The something turned out to be poop.

I waited patiently for another thirty minutes until their time was done and I sent the two girls back to class while I had a little chat with N.

Me: "Honey, are you wearing pull-ups?"
N: "Yeah..."
Me: "Did you go to the bathroom in them just now?"
N: [putting his head on the table] "Yeah..."
Me: "Why did mom send you to school in pull-ups?" (come on, he's eight!!)
N: "I don't know"
Me: [gently] "If you had to use the bathroom, why didn't you just ask? I always let you go when you ask..."
N: "I don't know"

This is the second time he's done this in two weeks. He doesn't say anything about it. He never even seems to be uncomfortable.

I had the teacher call mom and it just kills me that mom sees no connection between this sudden behavior and the latest turmoil in the family (new baby in the house from his teenage brother, dad moving away to basic training, you get the picture).

This same student gave me a panic attack not two hours later when he went missing. I've never lost a child in my teaching career and I didn't want today to be my first. At noon, he was sitting in the office, waiting for mom to bring him a change of clothes. At 12:45 I went to go pick him up from his classroom for his second time with me. His teacher just looked at me and said: "You mean he isn't with you? When I didn't see him in the office, I assumed you had him".

When I realized that his backpack was still in the classroom, that is when my heart started fluttering. Four staff members (including myself) armed with walkie-talkies searched high and low throughout the whole school building and grounds. I looked in every bathroom stall.... Finally about twenty scary minutes later someone had the bright idea to check the sign out sheet...

Sure enough, grandma didn't have any spare clothes, so she just took him home.

Note to self: when kids disappear, check the sign-out sheet first!

Unpatriotic Traitor

Yep, that's how I'm feeling today....

Unpatriotic: We didn't go to any picnics or barbecues today for Memorial Day. Instead, we walked all over the historic section of downtown and found a "hole in the wall" Chinese place. Max said: "I'll bet that place is authentic". Sure enough, we were the only white people inside, and English was not the only language spoken. Hamburgers? Forget it! Bring on the Moo Goo Gai Pan!!

Traitor: Despite numerous protests to my colleagues assuring them that I will still be there this fall, I've started looking into other employment opportunities for next school year. They are saying that gas is going to hit five or six dollars a gallon in the fall, and the thought of the thousands of dollars wasted on my 110 mile round-trip daily commute is pretty sickening. And let's face it, this latest stint in my career has been less than satisfying for many different reasons.

I ended up applying for a Title 1 Curriculum Support Teacher at a school that is literally 1.3 miles away from home. ONE POINT THREE! I really hesitated in even searching for other jobs, because we're only planning on being here for one more year (long enough for Max to finish his masters'), but this job will only last one year! (Title 1 funding is special that way).

But, anyhow, I feel like a complete traitor for even thinking about leaving--the special education department has plenty of issues without adding another new staff member next year. So I really don't know how to feel about the whole thing. I am terrified this new school is going to call me for an interview. I am terrified that they won't.

Lots of prayer to follow....

Top Ten Signs of an Oppressive School

10) When gossip and negativity spread like wildfire.

9) When the administration tacks on extra, mandatory professional development days during the summer, and teachers can't do anything in protest because they don't have a contract.

8) When the principal's policy is to change things up simply because things are going well.

7) When mandatory, hour-long, after-school meetings are scheduled three times a week... every week.

6) When the administration makes specials teachers (gym, art, computers, spanish) give up their daily planning time in order to work as classroom aides.

5) When teacher bonuses are dependent on student test scores.

4) When "looking at test scores" drives every in-service, workshop, and staff meeting.

3) When the administration places a higher value on what the parents say rather than on what the teachers say.

2) When the school has a higher staff turn-over rate than, say, McDonald's...

1) When over half of the staff is sending out resumes for teacher openings at other schools.

Decision-making Power

With the end of the school year almost upon me comes the Placement Decisions. This is an important time in the life of a resource room teacher; I need to ask myself "In whose classroom will each of my little ones succeed next year?" I can't just flippantly assign them any ol' teacher, you see, it is an important decision that may potentially help to determine academic progress. I have to consider the strengths and weaknesses of each student AND each teacher.

It's easy to reflect on the qualities of each of my students. It gets stickier when I have to reflect on teacher qualities. It almost feels judgmental... "No, not her, she doesn't follow through", "No, she's too inconsistent, he needs someone who is firm and strict", "No, she's overly negative", "No, he can't differentiate", "No, she's not warm and sensitive enough", "No, she shouts confidential information in the hallways", "No, she can't seem to work with other professionals". I'm not sure how to go about this process without being hypercritical of each teacher on our staff!

As I go down my list, it's working out where I'm happy where they will be placed.... But I do seem to be stuck with a handful of kids to place within the same grade level in which there is not a single teacher who I feel is capable of teaching these kids well. I may have to resort to pulling names out of a hat!

Room Issues

It's quiet in my office. Sometimes, that's boring, but I like my office for that reason. It is just small enough so that the kids on our caseload that have behavior issues have to go to the other, bigger, resource room to calm down. The other resource room is also "home" to our four aides, as well as work space for many more kids at one time than I see.

Next year, that other, bigger, resource room will be mine (for reasons that aren't worth getting into right now). It's going to be louder, busier, and liberally peppered with chaos. I try not to think about it too much...

And speaking of rooms, I realized last night (as Max and I watched bits of "Wife Swap"), that it wasn't until seventh grade that I had my own bedroom. Seventh grade! And then, I had my own room for exactly two years before I went to boarding school. I got to come home to my own room during school vacations... then after 10th grade, I've shared a room with someone or other continuously till I got married. It was just a "huh?" moment... I wonder why I didn't throw a fit about it as I was growing up?

I wonder if sharing personal space with siblings and roommates over the years is contributing to my reluctance to own the busier resource room next year... better have Max psychoanalyze this.

Success! (So Far...)

Well the blogging adventure I recently wrote about has officially begun. My fourth grade student was awestruck as I introduced her to the world of blogging! She was so excited to pick her own blog title ("I can choose anything?!?" she said) and her background colors. Her first post today was entitled "About Me". She (very slowly) typed out two sentences:

I like to eat hot cheetos. I have annoying sisters.

She was thrilled. I was thrilled: I got her to write, and I got her to like it. Yay!

Tragically Entertaining

A tribute to the last day of district-wide standardized testing (thanks Mr. Pullen):

IEP Critic--This One Gets a 2 out of 5

Today I attended an IEP/MET (three year re-evaluation) for a prospective student with autism coming to us next year. I was very excited for the chance to sit in on a different school's IEP meeting. I thought it would be an informative compare/contrast exercise. Our school psychologist (who services a bunch of other schools and districts as well) has always been very complimentary about the way we run our IEP meetings; today I found out whether or not our compliments were deserved.

It is my professional opinion that they were deserved.

First of all, their psychologist started off the meeting by informing mom that her son was "very, very loooow". He did not mention any scores, nor did he explain any of the subtests, other than to say "he did better on some than on others". So, ouch. Not five minutes into it and I was already feeling like I wanted to give this mother a hug.

Secondly, in a one-hour meeting, mom did not have a chance to speak until 27 minutes into it... and that's only because she interrupted with a comment! Not once was she asked for her input on goals, or about her concerns.

Thirdly, the eight people around the table directed all their comments at me... made eye contact with me... not mom.

Finally, there was a lot of educational jargon thrown around and it was assumed that mom understood all of it. In all fairness, this is something I have been guilty of in the past, but our special ed team has been very good about trying to be as clear as possible.

To the other school's credit, they were much more on top of their paperwork. Personally, though, I would much rather drop the ball in terms of paperwork than to fail to communicate to the parent that they are an equal partner with us in their child's education.

Blogging as a Cure (?)

I am responsible for teaching/remediating writing for my fourth grade student. The only problem is... she hates writing; she can't spell; and she doesn't see the point in writing. It's like pulling teeth with her, so I've been somewhat avoiding it for the past few months.

Until this week!! It struck me that starting her very own blog could motivate her to write. Do other elementary teachers have their students blog? This fifth grade teacher does.

Would I be allowed to do this at school? According to our computer teacher, blogging is part of a Michigan technology strand!

I like the idea of linking kids' news sites and fun fact sites on the sidebar for her to read/peruse and respond to. I like that most blog sites have spell check. I like the idea that I could make her blog private. I also like the idea that her teachers could read her posts and give her encouraging comments!

The "unknown" factor is whether this experiment will work. Will this motivate her to write? Tune in next week for more exciting developments!

Blink Addiction

It all started at our half day in-service on Friday. The staff was supposed to align the objectives in our new math curriculum (coming this fall) to our state standards. Well, as you can imagine, all of us Special Ed teachers were feeling a bit left out, seeing as how it didn't pertain to us. "Oh, but it does!", we were assured. "You should be familiar with each grade level's standards and math objectives". Yes, that is a valid point. But which grade level should we choose to work with?

So Special Ed. got our own breakout session. Our team discussed housekeeping details for about twenty minutes, then got down to business: Cards. Not just any cards... Blink. Our speech therapist was explaining why this game in particular encouraged both sides of the brain to work together. It's also an excellent way to build working memory! We played for over an hour.... so simple, yet so addicting. While we were playing, we also discussed hosting a game night for parents with simple and fun games that have educational value. Goodness knows, I know the motivating value of games in my classroom!!

On Friday night I swung by Target to pick up a deck of "Blink" for myself (oh, and my students too). I've taught all of my students to play and they are having a blast with it! Some are still getting the hang of it, but my fourth-grader (who is as fiercely competitive as I am) is nuts about it! That girl was on her feet and shouting out: "SHAPE! COLOR! NUMBER! COLOR!" for the better part of 20 minutes. I wonder what people must have thought as they walked by?

I'm pretty nuts about it too. For two straight days, I've used my planning period to compete against the other resource room teacher, who is a worthy opponent! Work? What work?!

Birthday Highlights

First, I opened some presents from mom and dad. Gizmo liked the bag, but couldn't figure out why she needed to pose with it:


Mrs. Hufflepuff definitely liked the bag. She instantly claimed it as her own:


On Saturday, Max and I ate delicious food at Ichiban. Our Japanese waitress could not believe that we didn't want the forks she was offering us. "No forks??? Are you sure!?!" My grandma would be proud!



We also went to the dollar theater and split a jamocha shake, but I have no pictures for proof! All in all, a great birthday!! Thanks, everyone!!!!!

Ode to 25

Twenty-Five, you had a greasy and delicous start at The Pizza Bakery, followed by a liberal helping of change. You were there for our bittersweet move from California to Michigan. You witnessed the adoption of three adorable cats. You brought an unexpected, extended visit from my parents. You saw the dark days of unemployment. You presented me with a new brother-in-law. You allowed me to say, on countless occasions: "It's okay, because I'm only twenty-five, and I have lots of time left to do other things"... things like get a better job, live in a real house, drive a car that works...

I had high hopes for you, Twenty-Five, and you did not let me down. I realize that sometimes you get overlooked, and other years get all the glamour... like sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one, thirty (...wait...I know there are others, but I can't count that high...) oh and sixty-five. But you, Twenty-Five, have been a milestone for me in that I am one step closer to SETTLING DOWN (which is this missionary kid's ultimate goal!), without giving up the right to claim my youth for having cheap furniture and a broken car.

You will be missed in the years to come!

Love,

Twenty-Six

My Anger Changes Nothing

I'm trying to write my career goals and my reasons for pursuing a specific master's degree so that I can apply for my Masters of Arts in Curriculum and Instruction. But I can't focus. I won't be able to focus all day, I just know it. My mind is 2,200 miles away, in a different school, with different colleagues, and with different kids. I wish I could be very specific, but I can't. All I can say is some very EVIL and GREEDY and SHORTSIGHTED people are closing down the deaf/hard-of-hearing program where I used to teach, forcing dozens of kids to relocate to districts and schools who won't be able to provide the comprehensive array of services that we did. "Why would anyone do such a thing?", you may wonder.

As it turns out, the bottom line is money. What an awful truth: what drives education is money, not the best interests of our students.

On the Run

On Friday, I dismissed my little kindergartener back to his classroom once his time with me was over. I reminded him "Make sure you walk!". Then, like the responsible teacher that I am, I waited two seconds, then left my office to make sure he wasn't running.

He was.

My question is twofold:

1. Why do kids run everywhere?
2. When do kids/adults stop running everywhere?

I vaguely remember running places; usually, it was up or down stairs. I recall one instance, when I was about eight or nine, that my dad said "Stop running up the stairs". And I said "But I'm not running up the stairs". Then my dad showed me what it looked like to walk up the stairs, then made me do it. I remember thinking "Whoa, weird... I don't think I'm ever going to reach the top of the stairs at this rate!".

I distinctly remember a time in first grade when I stopped running pointlessly on the playground. I was watching some other kids running around in circles, and I thought "That looks like fun... They're going so fast and the wind is in their hair! I wanna do that too!". And I did... for about a minute or two. Then I realized "This isn't fun. This is hard work. I'm tired". Then I went and played on the swings.

And, now that I think about it, playing on the swings is a much more effective way to have fun and feel the wind in your hair without tiring yourself out. So while I may not be athletic, I am efficient!

BUT, It's The Law!

You'll remember that, in my last post, I talked about a prospective Kindergartener to our school this next year. He is on the Autism spectrum and definitely has some special abilities. His worst behavior is that sometimes he refuses to do things and he needs to be redirected.

Even though the parents have decided that our school is their number one choice, our principal is very concerned that our school isn't the right placement for him. This is 99% a personal issue, and 1% an administrative concern. He would need a full time aide, and a differentiated/personal curriculum. The other resource room teacher and I have told our principal a number of times that we would take care of the academic piece (a simple matter, really), and the district will be paying for a one-on-one aide.

So what's the problem? We're really not sure why our principal continues to fish for reasons why this student shouldn't come here. It's "but" this and "but" that at every turn. This has been going on for weeks, and I'm exasperated.

Truthfully, if the parents decide to take him somewhere else, that's okay with me. But right now, the parents want him at our school and we CAN provide the services he needs. I'm fighting for him for that reason. I will admit, however, that at this point, I also want him here simply because our principal doesn't.

Does that mean I have Oppositional Defiant Disorder?

April is Autism Awareness Month

This week, I went off-site and observed a five year old who can read (and comprehend) at the fourth grade level, and who can do complicated algebra. He might be on my caseload next year! I could teach him about appropriate social interactions and how to communicate functionally, and he could teach me how to balance my checkbook!

We All SCREAM for Ice Cream

After school, I went out with some friends from work to a local ice cream parlor where you could get two scoops of ice cream and a topping in a waffle cone for only $2.39. (It tasted like heaven!)

We were all sitting at a table outside, chatting away, when we were interrupted by a mom and her screaming kid who I thought looked about five. They were leaving the ice cream parlor, but the little boy was screaming and crying and throwing a full-on tantrum on the ground while his mother held his ice cream cone. He was shouting "I WANT IT IN A CUP!! A CUP! I WANT A CUP!!! WAAAAHHH!!!!" He was so intense that one of my friends had to move his chair so the kid didn't knock his head. The poor mother was clearly embarrassed. I knew this because, at one point, she told her son "You are embarrassing." For about three minutes, the boy screamed and the mom said "Get up, let's go!", until the mom eventually passed the cone to dad, picked up the screaming and kicking child, and put him in the car.

When they had left, all five of us started laughing and cheering at the same time. We were laughing because some of us teachers deal with "behaviors" all day in the classroom and it's nice (and funny!) when it's not our problem to deal with! We were cheering because, and this is crucial, the mom did not reinforce his tantrum by going back into the store for a cup. It seems like a lot of parents these days would have done exactly that.

We indulged in some "If it were me" conversation at this point, which was actually quite ridiculous because none of us around the table were parents (and I'm sure we might all change our minds when we're the burnt out moms and its OUR kid), and we came up with several scenarios.

1. Let the kid have a tantrum, but start taking off your belt...
2. Let the kid have a tantrum, and give him an empty cup
3. Let the kid have a tantrum, and throw his ice cream cone away
4. Let the kid have a tantrum while you calmly eat and finish his ice cream cone

You have one guess as to which scenario was my suggestion!

Or Maybe It's Magic

So I was at a small meeting on Friday with some third and fourth grade teachers. One of the teachers was talking about her current student teacher working in her classroom. She told us she was thankful she "got a good one this year" because the last two she had were just hopeless. It got me to thinking and I asked her (and the others around the table): "Do you think that good teaching is a talent you are born with (you either have a knack or you don't)? Or do you think that good teaching can be learned?" The consensus around the table was that you either had what it took or you didn't, that it couldn't really be learned.

I would tend to agree with this, but the jury is still out. Any thoughts?

Time Marches Onward

Dear Spring Break,

What happened?!? One minute, I was shouting "FREEDOM!" as I pulled away from the school's parking lot, and the next minute I am sobbing in despair as I set my alarm clock for 5:30.

You enticed me with promises of late night TV, sleeping in, not wearing a watch, and endless time to spend however I wished. And as soon as I got one brief, delicious taste, you were gone! WHAT KIND OF A TEASE ARE YOU?

Where did you go? We had some great times together, but now you have moved on to visit other teachers in different school districts. I am a jealous friend. Very, very jealous...

Spring Break, I miss you so, so, so much. I don't know how I can keep on living without you... all that's left are the memories now. Please send your sister, Summer Break, soon.
SOON!!!!

Love,
Sarah

Thrifty Education

Being raised frugally, and loving a bargain, I love to shop at thrift stores. There are two main chains of thrift stores: Salvation Army, and Goodwill. Goodwill stores are clearly superior in my expert opinion. This is because clothes are organized by general type and by size. So when I go to Goodwill, I don't have to wade through hundreds of shirts to find a size small. I just go to the size small section, you see. At Salvation Army, clothes are organized by general type and by color. This makes no sense to me. It results in wasted time and disappointment ("OHMYGOSH What a cute ... Oh... it's a large... shoot"). However, if you are specifically looking for, say, a green button down shirt, Salvation Army is the way to go.

Unfortunately, I do not have a choice in where to go. We only have one real thrift store in a 20 mile radius, and it happens to be a Salvation Army. (This is a sharp contrast to when we lived on the west side of the state with all of the Dutch People. There were more thrift stores there than I could count on two hands within a ten mile radius. Why, you ask? Well, I suppose I don't want to perpetuate stereotypes about cheap Dutch People, so I'll leave that question unanswered.)

So that is where I went today. In the middle of the day. Because I wasn't at work. Because it's Spring Break. I made a few observations while I was browsing that I thought I would share with you (because I would bore you if I just talked about sleeping, playing on the computer, and reading my book).

• Don't try to buy something that is missing a price tag. They are very strict about that rule and apparently don't change their mind even in the face of a temper tantrum, whining, pleading, or flattery.
• Head for the clothes on the racks in the middle of the walking aisles. Those are the items they've brought in fresh from the back. Since it hasn't been picked over yet, your chances of finding a treasure are much higher.
• Don't ever buy underwear at a thrift store. That is just a given, people.
• I am not an XSmall. Why do I keep taking XSmall shirts to try on? My self-image clearly hasn't caught up with reality.
• Keep your eye on the fitting room door at all times. I found out today you can't trust those locks. I wouldn't want you all to experience the same embarrassing situation I did today!
• Stay away from the brand "Sag Harbor" for women. The clothes might look decent, but you'll feel less-than-confident knowing you're wearing a brand that might as well be labeled "Fatty McFatso at the Beach"
• Finally, a thrift store is a good place to try bargaining/bartering, especially if the item is missing a button or has a small tear or some other imperfection. But you won't get an extra discount if you point out that the item is used.
  

So hopefully you are now fully prepared to go thrift store shopping. Happy bargain hunting, everyone!

Self-fulfilling Prophecy

On Friday, I asked my principal what she would be doing for her week off. She said she was going to paint the bedroom so that she "could feel like she got something accomplished". A second later, a colleague walked by and in passing asked ME what I would be doing over break. I said "I'll be lucky if I get out of my pajamas!".

When I turned back towards the principal, she had a funny look on her face...

At first, I was afraid she would think that I was lazy with a capital L. But, now (sitting at the computer in my pajamas), it's no longer a pressing concern. After all, it's not my fault that some people are workaholics!

Can You Feel My Joy?!?

Never Trust a First Grader

For Christmas, my mentor (Ms. A) gave me a nice box of Ghiradelli's chocolate. Not realizing that we were exchanging gifts, and knowing it was the last day of school before break, I decided to give her a coupon in return. It was a coupon for Forty Free Minutes; I would do an activity with her first grade class for 40 minutes while she got some work done or drank coffee in the lounge, or whatever. It turned out to be the perfect present: she loved it, and it cost me nothing...

Yesterday, she finally cashed in on her gift. I read the book "If..." by Sarah Perry to her 20-some first graders. It was a lesson in visualizing, or mental imagery. Every page has a different "If" statement like: "If toes were teeth..." or "If frogs ate rainbows...". I would read a page, have them close their eyes and visualize it, then reveal the author's illustration. The kids were SO into it. When I finished reading the book, I explained that we were going to make our very own class book: each student would get a page and come up with their own "If" statement, then illustrate it.

Before I let the kids get back to their seats, I wanted them to understand that they wouldn't be writing in complete sentences. I told them they would end their statement with a-- I pointed to the text-- a "dot, dot, dot", I said.

It was at this point in my lesson that ALL 20-SOME first graders shouted "ellipsis!" "it's an ellipsis!"

"Ellips-ees?" I asked.

"EllipSIS" they said, obviously delighting in my complete ignorance.

There was no turning back at this point. So I played it up and told them I'd never met such a smart class of first graders before and "Oh boy, we'd better not let Ms. A know about this; how embarrassing!"

The giggles died down, the kids completed their assignments, and I went back to my office.

An hour later, Ms. A pokes her head in my office: "So I heard you learned a new word today, huh?" We had a good laugh about it, then she told me that her kids took great joy in reporting that I actually called it a "dot dot dot"!

Traitors...

Until Spring Break!!!

• Three more crack-of-dawn mornings
• Three hundred more miles
• Three more sack lunches
  
• Thirty more dollars of gas
• Two more meetings
• Twenty-one more kids
• Countless more prayers to make it through...
  

Word to the Wise

Teachers everywhere, some tips for you:

Here are some Do's and Don'ts of meeting with parents (whether it's a P-T conference or an IEP or whatever):

Do:

• Start with the positive
• Listen reflectively
• Make them feel valued and empowered
• Share ways they can help at home
• Speak tactfully
• Back up what you say with documented evidence
  

Don't:

• Be late
• Go on the offensive
• Take ANYTHING personally (except maybe a compliment)
• Be blunt
• Raise your voice for any reason
• Antagonize

NEVER:
Start out by telling the mother: "Mama Bear, you're not going to like what I have to say". (Yes, this really happened!)

Busted

Last week, one of "my" first graders got in trouble in gym class for disruptive behavior. A note was sent home for mom/dad to sign. When he handed it back to the coach yesterday, coach pulled him aside and told him how proud he was of him, and told him how responsible he was to bring it back. My little student just nodded proudly. When coach looked down at the paper, a perfectly printed MOM was written on the signature line!

Busted.

Perhaps a taste of things to come? Let's hope not!

Sick Days

Ever since I can remember, it's been very difficult for me to take sick days. I remember several times in high school, my dad would urge me to stay home and rest; usually I was too determined to give in. Sometimes it was that I thought I was going to miss out on something really fun at school if I stayed home. Sometimes I was sure that I would fail my next test if I didn't show up for class (can't really trust other note-takers, you know?). In college, taking a day off was unthinkable: most classes only met 1-3 times a week!

And now that I'm teaching, not much has changed. When I lived in California, I didn't like to stay home when I was sick because I had to make sub plans. And that was so much trouble. But then again, I didn't get all that sick in California. I'm sure it has something to do with all that sunshine and fresh air year round.

At my school here in Michigan, the policy is "crawl in, don't call in". In fact, we are officially given 0 sick days (they still pay us when we have to stay home due to sickness, but they don't give us a specified number of days so that we don't abuse it). So I have a lot of guilt when I stay home sick. And at my current job, I don't even need to make sub plans for when I'm gone because I'm not a classroom teacher!

But still I feel compelled to be at school when I am sick. The last time I was sick, I got up anyway and tried to get to work, only to turn around 10 miles into my commute when I realized I wasn't going to make it. And just this past Wednesday, I went in to work when I clearly shouldn't have. It was my colleagues in the special ed. department who urged me to go home. That was hard, because I felt that everyone else was judging me a wuss. On Wednesday, it was purely an upper respiratory issue that was making me feel miserable. But I threw up on Thursday. I kind of wanted to send out a mass e-mail to everyone to show that I was justified in staying home (but then decided against it). I've got to stop caring what other people think and just take care of myself, so that is why I'm taking today off too, to recuperate!!

Phew!

This week has been a whirlwind of hectic busy-ness. I'm SO glad it's over. I had four METs (3 year reviews), four IEP's, four evaluations of our aides to give, and I took on two brand new kids onto my daily caseload. My office looks like it's been hit by a hurricane... I try not to notice! Because if I don't look, it's not there, right?
I have no energy to say anything else..............

Officially a Teenager

Today marks the day of my First Ever Real Life Accident.

We got about five inches of snow last night. Out where I work (about an hour's drive each way), they only got about two. School was not cancelled for us. Schools along the highway I drive were cancelled. That should have been my cue to crawl back into bed. But no. It was really important that I be at work today, so I shoveled the snow off my car and took off. I allowed myself extra time, and didn't rush it.

Things were going along smoothly. I was going 50 mph for the first hour of my commute (others whizzing past me on my left). Then I saw a car had slid into the median, so I slowed down to about 40 mph. The next thing I know, I'm spinning. Spinning and screaming. It was pure panic for what felt like the longest time. I remember I was able to pump my brakes a couple times before impact, but the ice just laughed at my feeble attempt to ward off the collision. When the car was done spinning, I had hit the guard rail by the shoulder of the freeway. No whiplash for me, but a sickening "crunch" coming from the rear left of the car.

I did what any rational person would do: I cried. I got out of the car, checked out the damage, got back into the car, and cried some more. If it wasn't for a girl who pulled over to see if I was okay, I probably would be still be crying in that spot. She helped me dig my back tires out of the snow. Together, we waited for a break in the traffic. Then, I hit the gas, and she pushed my car from behind. God bless her!


I'm thankful that the accident wasn't worse. I'm grateful that I wasn't hurt in any way. I'm bummed that my remote start and my cruise control have stopped working. But at least I still have a car!! I'll fit in perfectly with so many other Michigan-ghetto-cars ;).

When It Rains, It Pours...

Today brought a delightful change of pace. I was actually BUSY all day! Yes, busy! I'll give you a moment to catch your breath.

Somewhere in between stacks of paperwork that couldn't be put off any longer, umpteen phone calls that needed follow-up, colleagues crying in my office, and spontaneous meetings, I did manage to see some kids. I'm taking on two more students onto my caseload this week, and I think that has something to do with it...

And, to top it all off, today was "Dress as your Favorite Book Character" day to kick off reading month. That would have been fun, if I had remembered about it sooner than right before I fell asleep last night. Max tried to be helpful with suggestions such as "Nancy Drew", "Cam Jansen", "Wilbur from Charlotte's Web" (ha-HA), but I finally decided that if anyone asked, I would stand up on my tippy-toes and say that I was "Sarah, Plain and Tall". I got by :)

All Play, No Work

My conference in Chicago was surprisingly disappointing. I was hopeful about the sessions we (my colleague and I) had signed up for. But if the sessions weren't agonizingly basic, they were completely unnecessary. Did my school really need to pay 800 dollars for us to learn that the letter "B" has its sound in its name whereas "H" does not? Was it relevant when a two hour workshop on teaching students with Asperger's Syndrome spent the whole time talking about the history of the syndrome and how to diagnose it? That's not practical!!!

There was only one session that redeemed our conference. We high-tailed it out of there several hours/sessions early. (We were also trying to beat the freezing rain in the forecast on our drive home).

Despite all of that, my friend and I had a BLAST. We stayed at the Hilton and our room had TWO complete bathrooms! We breakfasted at the Cafe Baci, lunched at Eleven, and dined at Gino's East. We took taxis around the city (which are so much safer than the ones in downtown Cairo!!), and shopped with the best of them. I bought a quarter of a pound of handmade soap at Lush. Apparently Max thought this was unnecessary, but he forgets that hygiene is important to some of us!

Lucky Me

The school is sending me and the other resource room teacher to Chicago for a conference hosted by the Learning Disabilities Association of America. It's international. And in Chicago. And we're staying at the Hilton. On the "magnificent mile". On the school's dime!! We'll get to learn some (hopefully) useful strategies on helping our students succeed, and then we'll have some of the world's best shopping right at our doorstep for our free time during the evenings! Should be fun!

Carded

I got a whole box of business cards in my school mailbox the other day. There are at least 500 of them, and they even came with a blue plastic carrying case. And they're in color!!

So I'm officially official.

I'm not really sure what to do with them now that I have them. Teachers typically aren't in the kind of profession where a business card would be needed. I mean, should I give them to my students? "Here you go. If you're happy with the services you received today, tell all your friends!" Or maybe they're for parents: "Here you go. Here's my address, my email, my phone number, and my fax number so that you can get a hold of me at any time of the day to discuss any amount of problems you are having". Or maybe I can give them to strangers: "Here you go. Should you ever have a child with special needs, look me up!"

I think I'll just carry them around to drop into those containers you sometime see in restaurants and cafes: "We randomly pick one business card a week, and you can receive a free meal/cup of coffee/flat screen TV/new wardrobe!"

In the meantime, I'm getting a lot more use out of my new tangle. As it turns out, I fidget more than advertise.

Ignorance is Bliss

Today. In my office/room. 9:36 AM.

Student 1: "What kind of teacher are you? I have my class teacher, and my speech teacher, but what teacher are you?"

Student 2: "Yeah, there's supposed to be 25 kids in here, but why is it just us?"

Me: "Well, what kind of teacher do you think I am?"

Student 1: "The teacher I have fun with!"

Boy, I didn't have the heart to tell them that I was the Special education teacher. For a second I was completely speechless.

One day, soon enough, they will realize that no one else from their class comes down to see me. They'll figure out that there are certain subjects they feel like they "can't" do. They'll feel different from everyone else. People might call them "stupid". The walk down the hall to my room will become a "walk of shame". They won't look forward to seeing me, because I'll be a constant reminder that they're different from everyone else.

But for now, they're just happy third graders.

So I said: "I'm just a teacher who gives some kids some extra help"

Sick Thoughts

There's nothing like being sick to make you wish you could go back to work...

Spilling my Thoughts

During the times when I'm not scheduled to see kids:

"I'm bored. What should I do? I could do this.... noooo. I could do that... hm. I don't feel like it. Did I get an email? I have to do this by tomorrow, maybe I should do it now... naw. Will there be a snow day tomorrow? Let's check weather.com. Did I get an email? Wait I should really do that thing... wait I don't feel like it. Is it time for another hot chocolate break?"

Right before it's time to work with kids:

"Maybe they'll be absent today; maybe they won't come. Maybe they'll be doing something special in class; maybe they won't come. If they come, what should I do with them today?"

When I'm working with kids:

"How much time do we have left? What should I do in that time?"
"Ten more minutes till they're done. Seven more minutes. Five more minutes. Two more minutes. Whew! They're gone now. Wait. I'm bored again."

On the car ride home:

"Am I there yet? Am I there yet? Am I there yet? How 'bout now? Now? Now?"

Upon arrival:

"HALLELUIAH!!" "I WILL NEVER LEAVE MY HOUSE AGAIN!"

Kindergarten Komments

"You are pinching my butt"

This statement marked the official start of my day. Two aides (or paraprofessionals as they are called in Michigan) were out sick today, which meant that I had to clear my morning schedule so I could be the aide for a kindergartner with high-functioning autism.

We were sitting on the floor for carpet time, my little (but heavy!) charge in my lap. He likes to sit in my lap, and he likes to have his shoulders pressed down because he has sensory issues (like many kids with autism). So we were sitting this way, and I started to really feel his weight. When I readjusted my criss-crossed position, I must have caught his little behind in the crease of my bent knee, because he looked up at me and said, slightly reproachfully: "You are pinching my butt".

Later that day, he was coloring a pattern of various shapes: green, yellow, red. He has fine motor issues, so he "let" me color the red ones when he got tired. Now, because this little guy has fine motor issues, he made great big strokes with his crayon, completely disregarding any lines whatsoever. He frequently ran into the other shapes even. I colored the red shapes pretty well for him, but after I had finished one near the end, he pointed at it and said:

"HEY! You colored outside the lines!!!"

I didn't have the heart to show him the mess he'd made of his shapes. That would have been, well... childish :)

Put it on my 'Professional Development' tab

Registration fee for one day Autism conference:
$195

Gas to get there:
$8 ish

Parking:
$8.25

Lunch:
$9.49

Doing something different than the everyday hum-drum:
Priceless!

The school paid the registration fee. I paid for everything else.

I wonder what would happen if teachers had their own expense accounts?!

Ode to January

Good riddance to January! (Is it June yet?)

I Win!

I have a fourth grade student with a learning disability that I see for 1 hour and 45 minutes every day. She LOVES competition! And because it is such a huge motivator for her, I try to make everything into a game... everything. We've been working on our diphthongs for a while now (vowel combinations such as oi, oo, au). For each diphthong set, I've made picture cards and word cards. We play lots and lots of games with these cards: Go Fish!, Memory, BOO, and Old Maid. Usually, I try to rig it so that she wins. Every once in awhile, I might win by accident, but then she likes to call for a re-match...

It wasn't until recently that we had started using the cards to play Old Maid. It's still easy to let her win this game, but for some odd reason, I can't bring myself to lose. There's just something about it that brings out the FIERCE COMPETITOR you all know me to be (haha). Even though I can see her get frustrated and stumped every time she loses, I can't help trying to win! Even when my head says "let her win this round", my heart says "NEVER!".

But regardless of who wins or loses, her prize is that she's becoming a better reader. And that makes both of us happy :)

Tomorrow is JEAN DAY!!!!

Teacher wardrobe rules at my school in California went like this:

1. Flip flops? Sure!
2. Capris or shorts? Why not?
   
3. Designer clothes? A must!
4. Wearing the same pair of pants in a week? Shameful!
   
5. Jean day? Everyday, if that's what you want!

Teacher wardrobe rules at my school in Michigan go like this:

1. Flip flops? Never!
2. Capris or shorts? You're fired!
   
3. Designer clothes? I got it at Big Lots!
4. Wearing the same pair of pants in a week? WHO CARES?
5. Jean day? Once a month and that's "lucky"
   

The Latest MOOs

When I asked my husband what I should blog about (I've been feeling uninspired), he said "cows". So, whether or not he was serious, here goes:

to ruminate:
1. to chew the cud, as a ruminant.
2. to meditate or muse; ponder

This is how I've been treating my job lately--I ruminate all the time about this and that. Right before I go to sleep. On my way to school. During my down-time in the day. Lately I've been ruminating about how boring and un-challenging my job is right now. I've gotten over the initial hurdle of getting to know the school, procedures, etc. Now I just feel like a glorified tutor who runs the occasional meeting, and fills out paperwork. This position isn't challenging enough.

And yet, if there was a job to open up this fall to teach children who are deaf/hard-of-hearing, I don't think I would take it. Afterall, the Lord led me to this pasture for a reason. I prayed that I would be in the place where He could use me best, and I choose to have faith that this is that place.

Even if every once in a while it smells like cow poo.

Define "exquized"

All 6th - 8th grade students at my school were asked to write an essay about what they liked specifically about our school. Here are some excerpts:

" . . .the teachers are nice except when they have to buckle down and teach."

"[Our school] teaches us more than we need to know."

"They let you socialize every two weeks."

"I like [this school] because when you're not good at something instead of pulling you down the teacher pushes you up."

"My academics are good and they instill a lot of lessons that we will probably remembers till we die."

"These among many other factors are why I, and my family of course, have chosen this exquized educating facility."

And here's my favorite comment (maybe because I can identify with it):

" . . . and my last reason is because I have no choice."

Teacher Nature

There's Mother Nature, Sin Nature, Human Nature....

What about Teacher Nature?

It struck me today, as I was administering a computerized district test to an 8th grader, that there might be such as thing as a Teacher Nature. You see, this 8th grader receives special education services, and his IEP states that tests be read aloud to him (with the exception of reading tests). So I'm sitting there reading math question after question to him. I see him struggle with it, and have to bite my tongue because I'm not allowed to rephrase the question. I'm not allowed to point him in the right direction. I'm not allowed to ask prompting questions. I'm not allowed to help. I can only repeat the question and say things like: "Just do your best" and "Take your time". I have to watch his frustration in silence.

That just goes against my Teacher Nature.

Out of the Mouth of Babes

Overheard between my two third-graders, as they illustrated their writing:

Girl: "Is life easy when you're grown-up?"
Boy: "I don't think it will be fun because they have to pay bills and stuff"
Girl: "But I love chores... Chores are my favorite!"

And a little later on:

Girl: "Do you know my mom?"
Me: "Yeah, she's a nice lady"
Girl (rolling eyes): "When you are her daughter, she drives you nuts and she's not that sweet"
Girl: "When you have kids, please do not drive them nuts, or they will be saying the same thing!"

Good advice...

Go Ahead....

... just ask me how I feel about going back to school tomorrow:

Meanwhile, My Feet Hurt

I've been slacking with my blog lately because I've just been having too much fun doing absolutely nothing! It's been great spending time with family for Christmas and New Year's....

I can't decide if I'm looking forward to going back to school next Monday, or if I'm dreading it. I have had a lot of time to reflect on this new position/role for me, and I've decided that it's lonely. I mean, sure, everyone has been nice at my new school, and I'm able to have short conversations here and there (mostly in the lounge), but I'm not working with an aide anymore. When I was teaching children who are deaf/hard-of-hearing back in California, I worked very closely with a classroom aide. Not only was she my right-hand-woman, but she was excellent company as well. But now I work solo. If the kids inadvertently say something funny, there is no adult eye to catch for a secret chuckle. There is nobody who knows all the ins and outs of my classroom who can give me feedback. There is nobody to spontaneously brainstorm with. There is nobody... except me.

Now before you all start to feel sorry for me, let me say that I could go walk down the hall and talk to my partner in crime who is the other resource room teacher (this is her first year of teaching). But this is just too inconvenient, unless it's lunchtime.

There are definitely lots of people who come see me in my little room/classroom/office everyday, but these people come because they have Problems. And part of my job is to "supervise" the special education aides, and help fix the problems, so this is okay.

I guess the point of this whole, long, wordy post is that, for the last two years, everyone came to talk to me to make sure that I was okay, to ask how I was doing, to know if I needed any help. You know, because I was the New Teacher. Now, in my third year, I'm suddenly in the position where I'm expected to give the support, to listen instead of talk, to encourage rather than be encouraged, to run the meetings instead of just participate.

It's like a new pair of shoes that I'm still trying to break in.

No More Nervous Eye Twitches For Me

This time last year, I was as busy as a bee with the kids singing in the holiday program, the Christmas party, Santa's workshop (arts/crafts day). All the activity and constant noise contributed towards a kind of happy stress--the kids were super excited, and I was too.

It's been harder to get into that kind of a Christmas spirit at my new job. I don't have an actual classroom to decorate, no kids to constantly calm down/manage/supervise. No random student gifts to open....

Instead, I've been student-less these past two days. I have a policy of not pulling my kids out of their classrooms during parties/special activities (thankfully, the general ed teachers are in total agreement--or at least they pretend to be anyway). So I've had a lot of "free" time to catch up on paperwork, hold meetings, plan ahead and create materials. It's been such a bizarre change of pace. It's weird not feeling totally and completely drained and exhausted the Friday before a break.

I do miss that feeling of happy-stress, though. But when I start to look longingly at the classrooms full of excitement, chaos, and hyper-happy children, all I need to do is take one look at the teacher. Then I feel thankful that I don't look like I'm about to have a nervous breakdown.

His and Hers

Here's what I did this weekend:

Here's what Max did this weekend:

The difference is, by the end of it, I will be closer to being fat while he will be closer to getting his Masters'!

Waterproof

You know what's awesome about my new winter coat? It has a hood with kind of a visor on it to shield my glasses from the rain and snow. That came in handy today when I was standing in the parking lot of the mall, in the rain, calling home because I locked myself out of my car!

It Just Keeps Getting Better

What's better than one snow day?

Two snow days in a row!!!!!

Hope Pays Off

Never in my life have I ever felt so fondly toward ice...

SCHOOL IS CANCELED!!!!!

I Can't Help It

As it turns out, we're an optimistic bunch here at my school. There was a decent chance that today would be a snow day, and everyone (staff and students alike, but mainly staff) was reminding everyone else to sleep tonight with their pajamas on backwards and inside out. I don't know if that's just a Michigan superstition, or what?!? In any case, there was a lot of hope in the air yesterday... a good amount of it coming from me.

I'm sure Max will tell you that last night I was practically giddy with hope at having my first snow day ever. He, on the other hand, was completely intent on squashing said hope by saying such foreboding things like "I went a whole year without a snow day", and "don't get your hopes up!", and "you're not getting a snow day". What is it with pessimists that they have to bring everyone down to their level? Oops, did I say "pessimist"? I meant "realist".

In the end, it doesn't matter if you're an optimist or a pessimist/realist: either it's a snow day, or it isn't.

It wasn't.

Not only was it disappointing not to get that super-special phone call, but I had gotten up twenty-five minutes earlier than usual in anticipation of the snow I would have to scrape off of my car. You know, because I'm responsible and like to get to work on time. Imagine my dismay when I looked outside and there was NO SNOW. Instead, there was what looked like a very light dusting of the tiniest amount of powdered sugar on the ground. Disappointment became exhaustion in the blink of an eye.

Some of you would think that I have learned a valuable lesson about "not getting your hopes up", or "listening to your husband who's always right", or "commuting an hour each way to work". But those people would be wrong. Because, Sunday? Sunday night we're supposed to get freezing rain. And I'll be wearing my pajamas inside out and backwards all weekend long.

Snow Daze

Every night, I pray for a snow day. I check the weather before I go to bed, hunting for signs of any precipitation. I sleep lightly in the wee hours of the morning, waiting for a phone call that would deliver the glorious news.

But it doesn't happen.

This morning came close. One of the other districts next to ours closed today. But we still had to show up. I got really excited on my way to work, though, when I got a phone call... Even at 6:45 when I was halfway to school, I still had a glimmer of hope that I would be able to turn around and go home. But it wasn't to be... it was just one of the aides informing me that her young kids went to the school that was closed today and so she wouldn't be able to make it in!

Lucky.