Trying to figure schtuff out

In love with Wordle.net

2009-01-30T23:06:00.001-08:00

This is a cluster I made with Steinbeck's Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech:

And one I made of SuperMama, the superhero I created with my English support students:

I really love Wordle.

Twilight

2008-09-05T21:48:00.000-07:00

I'm glad to be done reading the entire saga. It sucked away my non-work time completely for the last two weeks... and I mean ALL non-work time!

I was driving around dropping off kids and running errands, and the songs playing on the radio would remind me of the characters and the events. I was reading "The Nightingale" with my students, and I felt like the Nightingale's way of speaking was very like Edward's. As I changed the date on the board and put up the day's assignments, I felt like the characters were watching over my shoulder. I tossed and turned at night, haunted my images and thoughts relating to the conflicts and struggles in the books. I thought about being a Democrat at the Republican Convention as shape-shifters versus vampires, and thinking of the opposite (I'm not clear about which I am) as smelly and repulsive. I was even watching The Jungle Book and thinking about Mowgli being raised by wolves... you get where I'm going here. It's incredible.

Several friends of mine were in an endless cycle of reading, going through the entire series 7 times in 7 weeks. I thought they were crazy. Now that I've finished the last one, I understand... I want to go back to the first one and read through their beginning again. Luckily, I left it in my classroom library. It'll allow me to do the dishes and the laundry and pay bills and scrapbook... and try reading something else.

I'm not certain I want to see the movie completely. I love my image of Edward (he's a hotty in my brain), and I'm not sure I'll willing to give it up, even if it is for Cedric Diggery. But, I also don't really have a clear image of Bella, so that might be helpful. I guess the best route is to simply read the saga again before the movie comes out, which would better burn Edward's face into my head before it's threatened.

Meant to be

2008-08-28T14:49:00.000-07:00

In the last few years, especially since Pete's been alive, I've been thinking about whether or not I should be a teacher. I wonder if being a stay-at-home mom would be more suited to my current situation. It would allow me time to get the house cleaned, organized, and repaired in ways we haven't been able to do since we moved in when I was 7 months pregnant. It would allow me to volunteer in my daughter's kindergarten classroom, keep Pete home a little more to do baby-n-Mama classes and playdates, and workout more to drop the baby pounds. It would allow me to - GASP! - do more than one scrapbooked page per week. It would allow me to shrug off all the stress that comes with the school year, which affects my reading, my friendships, my energy level, my sleep, and my sex life.

But, when I took this job, I promised myself I'd give it a try for at least 5 years. God forbid I turn into a statistic.

One of my colleagues, Paul Kilkenney, once told me that it took 8 years for him to feel like he was getting the hang of teaching, and over 10 to really feel like it was not a constant struggle. He also said, which I remind myself of weekly, that all good teachers ask themselves if they should be teaching. No amount of confidence in our ability can cover up the fact that what we do in the classroom on any one day could positively or negatively affect a student's life forever. Ripples and waves.

...

The last few nights, I have not slept well. Part of that has to do with the heat in the house. (Why we bought a house with A/C when my husband won't let me turn it on, I don't know!) Part has to do with my terrible fear that something small will bite me on the foot if I leave my feet out from under the covers. (Don't ask - a completely strange story, not related to...) And part of it is that I've been sucked into the Twilight series, by Stephanie Meyer.

Heap on top of that that my daughter started kindergarten this week, and I couldn't go to her first day because it was my first day to. Oh, and a get-together with someone who seemed to really want to be my best friend, but who blew me off so many times that I decided she wasn't worth the effort. A challenge structure at my favorite digi scrapping site that very few people are taking part in. And the lack of usual support staff at my school because of the Governator's 10% across the board cut backs state-wide.

Needless to say, the pissiness crept up on my yesterday afternoon. It was unleashed when the YMCA person at my daughter's after care program asked for my ID to pick her up. That's okay, but that's the first thing she said to me. No, "Hello, welcome to the YMCA after-care building. I'm so-n-so. Are you Claire's mom? Nice to meet you!" or anything like that. Just, "If you're picking up Claire, I'll need to see your ID." Obviously, Claire will not be learning social skills from this woman.

Then, the dinner with the former friend-to-be who kept trying to get personal with me, and I tried very hard not to say anything painful to her to spread the misery.

Then, on the way home from being out late with the playdate families, I tried to call my husband on his cell twice to ask him to start a bath and make a bottle, since the kids were both up late past their bedtimes. But, he's already gotten home, taken off his jeans (with the cell phone on vibrate in the pocket), put on his pajama pants (with no cell phone in the pocket), and gone to play Rock Band or watch TV or something.

Then, I fell asleep while trying to post to my digi site about the challenges and what to do about it, so I dragged myself to bed, only to be hot and uncomfortable and wide awake! So, I stayed up reading, went to bed around 11, was woken just as a I was drifting off to sleep by the baby, and then couldn't fall asleep again for a while.

This morning, I woke up late, Claire was getting sassy with me every time I asked her to do something for me, we're out of a ton of groceries but I have yet to shop so lunches were sucky, we left late, Joe decided to take a "short cut" to his train stop which wasn't short, and then I got to school only a few minutes late for my prep. EXCEPT, when I went to my trunk to get my bags, they weren't there.... they were back at home. So I drove all the way home to get them, and got back in enough time to discover that I couldn't login to the Read 180 software to set up my students for their tests today.

I warned my 3rd period students that I was pissy. Their eyes got big.

But once I started talking to them about word parts (auto-bio-graph-y) and brainstorming and writing and such, my bad mood lifted. Quickly. I almost felt it fly out of me, like in Ghost.

...

This is a long way of saying that I think I was meant to be a teacher in this environment. Don't get me wrong, a year or two off to deal with all the stuff above would be nice. And I'm not perfect by any means. But there are very few activities that I do that change my mood so well and so fast. Golly, I hope I remember that.

My Heritage

2008-07-07T13:56:00.000-07:00

inspired by "Heritage" by Linda Hogan, and the ISIers from '08:

From my father
  I've inherited my eyes -
  both their deep brown
  pools framed by long
  curling eyelashes
  as well as
  the way they see the world
  as an apple waiting
  to be picked from
  the tree of opportunity
  if only I climb high enough.

From my mother
  I've inherited my
  most and least
  favorite traits.
  I have trouble saying
  no
  when people want help
  but I'll say yes
  while swinging my
  big butt and
  wide birthing hips.

From my grandfather
  I've inherited
  my sense of humor,
  my ability to laugh
  'most anything off
  and my intense loyalty,
  or so I'm told... since
  he died
  years before I was born.

And from my grandmother,
  I've inherited
  my fertility,
  my comfort in a houseful of guests,
  a deep pride when I actually have time to
    clean my house
  and a book of family recipes
  for Lebanese food which
  lacks exact measurements
  and relies heavily on
  whim and the tongue's memory.

From my family, I've learned
  stories are there if you ask,
  memory fails but impressions remain,
  and
  growing beyond older generations'
    philosophies and habits is possible,
  but you'll still want to
    return home no matter
    how enlightened you feel.

(shitty first draft written 5/31/08)

VENT: best-laid plans

2008-05-13T13:46:00.001-07:00

I know this is small beans in comparison to what some of you are going through, but I have to put it down somewhere. Forgive me.

We had a nice Mother's Day weekend. DH did quite a few chores, cooked for me most of Sunday, and I spent most of the day either in pajamas (yay!) or weeding (yay!).

Monday, I go to school. DH calls me around 3 and asks me if I'm feeling queasy, since he is. He wondered if it was food poisoning from the BBQ for dinner last night. I tell him I'm fine. I confirm that I have yet to hear from the kids' daycare. I got to Target to buy some gag gifts for a party at lunch for Tuesday. While in Target (and without my phone), DD's preschool calls to say she's thrown up twice and would I please come get her. Almost an hour later, when I get the call, I pick up DS (whose daycare closes earlier) and then get DD. DH says he's still queasy, but he can't stay home with DD on Tuesday because he has a big morning meeting he's running and another internation conference call in the afternoon. So we agree I'll stay home with DD - I get a sub, type up sub plans, everything's fine. DD and I even think about what we're going to do while home together: cuddle and watch a movie, read some books, maybe cut and glue stuff, work on an activity book or two, get some rest.

Tuesday morning (today) - We drop DS off at his daycare, DH off at the train, DD and I go into my classroom to get it ready for the sub; I also eat a granola bar here. We leave. We're two blocks from home when DS's daycare calls and says he's thrown up, too. So we drive past home to pick him up. We all get home and DD has 2 minutes to watch Handy Manny before I realize DS has little dots on his face, I call his doctor's office, and we're back in the car. turns out they're burst blood vessels, and it might be a sign of an infection, so off we go to the hospital to get blood drawn. Even though DS was born at the hospital, he has no record on file, and the woman refuses to create a new file in the computer for him, so she calls over to births and waits 10 minutes for something to be faxed. In the meantime, DD is constantly getting into DS's face, but I'm trying to keep them separate because I don't know if they have the same thing or not... and DS has started crying because he's effectively not had anything to eat in 4+ hours and is now solidly into his second naptim of the day, although he hasn't had a nap at all yet. Finally, the phlabotomist (sp?) calls us in and DS cries and cries, his vessels roll and they have to stick him twice to get a good sample.

We drive home, DS crying the whole time... until 3 minutes before we pull in, when he falls dead asleep. The mere opening of the minivan door wakes him, but I calm him down and put him back in the crib for a nap. He wakes up every 10 minutes to cry for 5 and then return to quiet/sleep for another 10 minutes. This goes on for about an hour and a half (my DD has watched another Handy Manny, eaten a piece of toast, had some water, and gone down for her nap by this time). I grab another piece of toast for myself and remember the amazing amount of homemade Mexican food I was going to have at that party at lunch and sigh. I decide I'm too tired to do anything and crawl into bed myself, when DH calls me to tell me he's 30 minutes away on the train... can I come get him? I tell him, no, I can't. He says he'll take a cab home, but he'll need to be on that conference call from 4-6. His trip home is completely unbidden and, frankly, useless to me, but he feels like he's helping and I'm trying not to be crabby and ungracious on the phone.

After I hang up the phone, I hear DS, still crying in his crib, so I go pick him up adn try to nurse him (but I'm dehydrated) and cuddle him (but he doesn't want to). Now I'm in the living room both frustrated that DS is awake and proud that he's FINALLY! crawling at 10.5mo. Oh, and the doctor just called and said his labs are fine - just a little viral infection. We'll have to let it run its course. Excellent.

Okay. I'm done. What a terrible day. Teaching 60 resistant freshmen high school English is more fun than today.

32

2008-01-26T12:51:00.000-08:00

A layout I did for a blog challenge last night. I really like this one.

Small success

2007-08-26T22:25:00.000-07:00

So, I've been itchy, a bit, about my scrapbooking lately. Wanted to do something more out in public (besides posting to all the boards), so I submitted a few things. I was really excited about the pages I sent in for the baby book, but none were accepted, I think. (I'm not sure; I thought they'd be calling about acceptance, but I never got a call. Then I found out they were sending emails, and I've been pretty aggressive about my spam folder lately, so I might have deleted it. O'ell.)

But I was accepted to the creative team. (scroll to the bottom) I'm only a guest, which lasts two months, but it's still really exciting. It'll expose me to a new designer, a new group of critics and instructors, and it'll motivate me to do more scrapbooking, which is always a good thing. Course, it's at the beginning of the school year, which is tough, but I think I'll be able to handle it. One layout a week is totally possible, considering I'll be doing one layout every two days for most of September with my class.

Wish me luck keeping my head above water.

Headfirst

2007-08-15T22:35:00.000-07:00

So, I decided to submit four layouts for a page call for a book about scrapbooking baby photos. I also applied to join a creative team for a digital scrapbooking designer. Am I crazy, or just bold?

Either way, we'll know on Friday - the deadlines for both opportunities are this Friday.

Selfish

2007-08-14T22:17:00.000-07:00

When we moved into the new place, we were wary of our neighbors.

As you may know, in the condo, our neighbors rocked. The people directly next door to us, a wonderful and funny lesbian couple, became exactly what you want neighbors to be: we had dinner at each other's houses when we weren't eating out together, we borrowed sugar or milk, we housesat/birdsat/babysat for each other, we recommended and lent or borrowed books from each other. And most importantly, we were enablers to each other's chocolate cravings. I knew when there was a knock on our door at 10:30pm, it was probably one of them asking if I had any cookies, brownies, ice cream, or candy; I did the same to them fairly frequently.

And those were just the neighbors next door. The woman below us was never around, so I rarely felt badly about my daughter jumping up and down all hours of the morning and evening. If it bothered her, she never complained. The people in the next building over, on the second floor like us, were also amazing. One condo is occupied by a single woman who is always traveling (which sucks), but when she's able to join us, she's funny, interesting, and tells a great story. The other one, next to her, houses a single mom and her son, both of whom are in my mothers' group (thanks to me). The mom is a total go-getter, and I can't imagine someone who seems more put-together: she doesn't have family here, she works more than 40 hours per week at her regular job, she's starting a business on the side, and she is a very loving mother. People think I have a lot of balls in the air, but I have my husband to lean on; she doesn't even have that much help.

Every so often, my next door neighbors, and the people on the second floor in the building across from us would get together: a potluck dinner, a party, a trip to the farmers' market, whatever. It was rarely planned more than 24 hours ahead of time, but it was always memorable. I think that's the one thing I miss most about being in this new place, and I know it's what Claire misses most.

So you can imagine that the bar was set pretty high for neighborly relationships when we moved. It looked promising, though, when one next door neighbor came over while we were unloading the moving van to introduce himself and offer help. (Joe turned it down, but you never see that kind of friendliness around here anymore.) Later, the man's wife came over and introduced herself. Even later, we learned that they have 4 kids, ages 11 and under, including a little girl who is less than a year older than Claire. The man and his wife are probably just a little older than us, which made things easier. The man is a minister in a local non-denominational church, and his wife is active in the community, too. Joe was wary about living next to a minister, but he's not like that at all: he's friendly, funny, and physically active - he takes his youth ministry group on camping and boating trips as well as weekly AirSoft battles.

The family invited us over for s'mores in their front yard (with one of those fireplace-like firepits) over Memorial Weekend, and we spent at least an hour sitting around talking with the kids and parents alike, and then Claire spent some time chasing the kids up and down our side of the block before going inside to watch a Disney movie with them. Turns out the family goes camping pretty regularly, which is cool, because we'd love to have another family to camp with (or at least motivate us to camp more on our own). And the mom does stamping, mostly cards (not scrapbooking, but still a crafty buddie right next door)! But then, I was finishing out my remaining weeks of pregnancy, and then adjusting to having another baby, and hosting all the visiting people, and we didn't get much of a chance to touch base with them.

Last week, when my MIL drove to the wrong VTA stop to pick up my husband, and didn't take her cell phone, the man next door was kind enough to drive to the VTA stop she was at with her cell phone, so we could get her to the right one to pick up Joe. Off and on, we've been bringing the garbage cans in for each other. They both said they were looking forward to helping me with the baby in any way they could the night we were eating s'mores. On Friday, the little girl brought over a baby doll for Claire (part of a two-pack Mom had bought at the store), and Claire and she rode bikes together for almost an hour on Saturday.

Do you see where this is all leading, based on the title?

Today, I wanted to go over and chat with the woman about her trip to a winery on Saturday, but I just didn't seem to have the time. I bumped into her this evening, on the way to pick up Joe, and she said that she and her husband will be moving to a nearby suburb... and the move will probably be done in a week and a half, just in time for school to start for the kids. They decided on Sunday night, and found a place yesterday that's available immediately.

Honestly, I was blown away.

And I feel very badly that the first thing I thought of was, "Bummer, they're moving away." I know I should have thought, "Wow! Good for them! Moving to a nicer part of the area with better school systems!"

I mentioned the news to Joe this evening and he had the same reaction: "Bummer, it seemed like we were just getting to know them" before "Wow, good for them!"

What I'm wondering now is if these few encounters with the family are enough to keep in touch with them, to develop our friendship with the parents, and Claire's friendship with the little girl. Would this have been mostly a friendship only encouraged by proximity? And, then, if not, how do you approach someone you're just getting to know (who will be busy meeting new neighbors and new parents of new kids at a new school), and say, "Hey, keep in touch." It's a little weird, don't you think?

So now I'm being very selfish. I don't want them to move!! Wah.

Not-a-goal

2007-08-12T13:09:00.000-07:00

I have always been interested in scrapbooking to remember things. I have a huge fear of Alzheimer's or dying too soon, and not being able to tell my kids what they were like, or who the people are in these pictures. My mom has a ton of photos in the attic that I just want to sit down with and ask about, but I have yet to do that, too. And I imagine she would love to do it.

I want to pass on these books to my kids, and then to their kids, and etc. If they turn out being helpful to my great grandkid when he has to do a report on his family, that would be cool.

But lately I've gotten the publishing bite. Being more immersed in the various scrapbooking communities online has allowed me to learn about more page calls, and then read what other people say about preparing for them, and then celebrate those that were published and commiserate with those who don't make it.

There's currently two page calls for pages that I either have done or have been thinking about doing (in my head) for weeks. I'm making these page calls me the kick in the butt to get the pages done sooner, which is good. But? Should I send them in and see what happens? How cool would that be, to see my pages in a magazine? And get paid for it? Or get a free copy of a book I would have bought even if I wasn't published in it?

But then I go back to my mantra: I scrapbook for me and my family. I scrapbook for me and my family.

Then I get confused. Can I scrapbook for me and my family AND send in submissions in response to page calls?

Little things

2007-08-11T22:32:00.000-07:00

Man, I love it when he smiles.

Pathetic

2007-05-29T20:51:00.000-07:00

I've been so busy with lesson planning (and trying new things!), the pregnancy, the move and unpacking, and Claire... and it took my sister-in-law to send us a card in the mail to remind me -- and Joe! -- that our anniversary is this weekend.

Worst Mom in the World?

2007-03-29T19:54:00.000-07:00

Tuesday morning, around 1:30, my daughter woke up screaming and crying. Joe, being the kind man that he is, ran to see what was going on. Normally, when she does this, it's a terrible dream, so one of us calms her down while we rub her back, and she goes back to sleep. This time, it was
because her stomach felt yucky.

Let me backup. Since I've been pregnant, Claire has adopted any ailment that I or Joe have gotten. If my back hurts, her back hurts. If my stomach is hungry, hers is too. If Joe's knees hurt from moving, hers are aching. She's kind of become the boy who cried wolf in our world when it comes to her various ailments. Honestly? Aside from a few colds, pinkeye, and an ear infection once, she has been the healthiest kid I've ever known.

So when she told me her stomach hurt on the way to dinner out on Monday night, I offered her the bathroom, but then didn't believe her. When she told us she didn't want to eat her hotdog, but was totally fine to drink her 1/2 of a strawberry shake, I thought it was about par for the course. When we stopped at the coffee house on the way home to get drinks for the neighbors and she said (on our way out) that she had to go potty - all of a sudden, which is unlike her - I asked her to hold it for the three-block drive. When she cried all the way up the stairs because she was afraid of pooping in her pants, Joe told her to run while I unpacked the car. Poor kid even stopped in the entryway to take off her shoes before we walked up the newly-carpeted stairs.

Thankfully, she made it. Without going into too many details, the poop was liquid and it stank up the bathroom. Joe and I knew we had something weird on our hands then. She cried a little post-toilet, saying her stomach hurt, but she wasn't running a fever and we gave her some water. We figured, if she's got diarrhea, she's gonna need it. She went right to sleep.

So when Claire woke up Tuesday morning around 1:30 crying, we were both still in a tired stupor and had forgotten all the evening's events and potential knowledge... until Claire threw up. It was the first time she'd ever thrown up, if I don't count the usual baby spit-ups she had before she was 6 months old. Joe ministered to her needs in the bathroom while I took a look at the new carpet, now pink. Although we no longer had carpet cleaner (we'd packed it; how stupid was that?!), it was an easy clean-up with some laundry detergent, Claire got changed into new pjs, got a little more water, and went to sleep. When I kissed her goodnight, her forehead felt warm, but not hot.

Since I was starting to feel queasy and warm too (albeit possibly from cleaning up the mess), I was mostly okay staying home with her, so I called the sub service. However, I spent the next 3 hours trying to plan out something for my 2-hour class to do that was not teacher dependent, and something else for my 2 English 1 classes to do instead of present their research posters. While I was up previewing some of Def Poetry's season one episodes, Claire came downstairs twice because her tummy hurt and she wanted some comfort. I eventually gave her some kid's Tylenol, rubbed her back some, and she slept well. I told her not to get up when the sun comes up, since she wouldn't be going to sleep. I told her her body needed sleep to feel better and she should just turn away from the sun and get more sleep instead of getting up early. She said that sounded good to her. I turned in around 5:00.

I'd planned to get up again when Joe's alarm went off at 6 to drive into school, drop off my lessons and the DVD, and get home in time for Joe to leave on foot for the VTA stop so he could get to the train station on his own. Unfortunately, I didn't turn out getting out of bed until 6:15, didn't leave the house until 6:30, and didn't get home until 7:20, ten minutes late. So, we turned out waking her up at 7:30 anyway, even though she cried and wanted to sleep more, so we could drive Joe to the train station. I felt terrible, but everything went smoothly. Claire and I came home okay, I carried her up the stairs in my 6-months pregnant condition (since Joe didn't put any shoes or socks on her when he woke her), and she got settled on the couch.

I got her some water and her favorite blanket, she watched Shrek, and she seemed totally fine. She ate some mostly-dry toast and kept it down with no problem for two hours. So when, around 10:30, she said she wanted bacon and eggs, I thought it was worth a try. Sure enough, she kept them down fine, although she was a little weepy.

When she's weepy, we normally say it's either naptime or "quiet time," which is still time in bed, but with books to look through. Of course, our goal is still naptime, but it doesn't always happen. She agreed to quiet time, so I set her up in bed with five books, a few stuffed animals, a glass of water near her bed. We talked about the quiet time rules: no getting out of bed except to go to the bathroom, no pulling out any other toys except the books and stuffed animals she'd already picked, no loud singing or banging, and quiet time's not over until I come get her. She agreed to an hour of "quiet time."

By this time, I'd already dozed off a little during the movie, so I crawled into bed and read aroun 11. Before long, I was asleep. I woke up around 12:45 and felt terrible about keeping her in quiet time longer than she'd agreed. I tiptoed over to her room, slowly opened the door, and she was completely asleep. I felt pleased, crawled back into my own bed, and went back to sleep. We both woke up around 3:45 when we had to go to the bathroom.

I knew I needed the extra sleep - between long hours of planning at work, the pregnancy, and coming off my night of little sleep - but Claire long nap only solidified the feeling that she was really sick. Joe and I had been tossing back ideas about food poisoning from the restaurant or something, but discounted it based on the long nap and the quickness with which the food had to have gone through her.

By dinner time, she was prancing and feeling good, had held down some pretty complex foods, and ate a full meal of pasta with tomato sauce, olives, and sausage. Joe commented on how much she was smiling and happy, and we both agreed that with her keeping her food down and no fever to speak of, she'd be okay going to school on Wednesday.

Wednesday passed with no problem at school. She ate well, she played well, she got a good nap. I thought about taking her to the playgroup, but something in the back of my head said that was a bad idea. We stayed home, dug out our scrapbooking stuff, and got some work done. She ate well at dinner... and then had some seriously off-color diarrhea before bedtime. I was a bit worried, but shrugged it off: it's just working through her system. She's eating well, right?

This brings us to today. This morning was business as usual. She woke up fine, cried about having to put her clothes on herself, perked up at the opportunity to pick her own breakfast, and skipped into pre-school when we dropped her off. I heard nothing all day from the school and had no reason to think otherwise.

Picked her up in the afternoon after my OB appointment, and she was walking funny. The teacher said Claire had just had an accident, but they were going in from the playground anyway. I took Claire in to get cleaned up, only to find the "accident" (no something Claire really has anymore) was super-loose diarrhea. Lovely. I cleaned her up, changed her, and started worrying a little. She said she was fine. On our way out, the teacher mentioned that Claire said before lunch that her stomach hurt, but she'd seem no symptoms. I'd, of course, seen symptoms by now but didn't say anything. I asked Claire if she wanted to go to the library, she said yes, so we started driving over.

I was really hungry, though, so I wanted to stop at Starbuck's. They have some great oatmeal cookies in the afternoon, and I was hankering for one. We stopped at the Blendz nextdoor first, to get a fruit smoothie for Claire, and she was bouncing from wall to wall full of energy and stories about when she and Joe and her buddy and his dad went to Blendz this past weekend. You never would have thought she was sick. She got her berry smoothie, we walked nextdoor and got my drink and oatmeal cookie, and walked out the back door toward the library. I asked her if she'd be okay walking to the library, about one block, instead of driving, and she said it was a "bootiful day, so let's walk." Great!

She started lagging behind as we crossed the street, so I turned around to tell her to hustle, but she started crying. Once she got across the street, she vomited up the part of the berry smoothie she'd had so far plus some other stuff on the sidewalk. I was surprised to say the least, but I can still hear the burp that preceded that outpouring. I gave her a hug, reassured her it was no big deal, and we crossed the street again to clean up back at Starbuck's. A kind woman sitting near the door got us some napkins and a glass of water, and I did my best. As I went in to throw everything away, Claire stayed outside and seemed much happier.

We walked back to the car. She was upset about missing the library, but I explained to her that sick little girls shouldn't be going to the library. Once at the car, she said her stomach hurt again, cried and screamed some more. I told her to get into the car, and then get into the carseat, so we could get home. She didn't have time to get into the carseat before she threw up again... all over the carseat, my purse, and her clothes again. At this point, Joe called on my cellphone, and I just didn't care, so I didn't answer it.

With the carseat a mess and not a single thing to clean it up in the car, I told her to lay down in the back part of the minivan (which happened to be already collapsed from moving) and we drove very slowly back home, 5 blocks total. She was afraid of throwing up in the car again, so I gave her my zip-down sweatshirt as a pillow to also throw up in, since I used it a few times while I was pregnant with her to do just that. She shouldn't have been worried, though, because she seemed fine all the way home. As a matter of fact, I had to shut her up because she was talking happily about all the neat things she could see from her unusual point of view, and not acting like a sick little girl at all. It was pissing me off.

We got home, and she announced right away that she had to go potty, so we ran upstairs and took car of that. Not a nice smell. She got dressed in pjs, rinsed out her mouth, and found a good animal to cuddle with. I told her I'd set her up on the couch in a "special cocoon," which was really just her rainbow blanket on the cushions, so if she puked again it would get on the blanket and not the couch. However, before she could climb up into the cocoon, she puked again. Let's just say at this point, I could have named everything she'd eaten since I'd seen her this morning. I cleaned up the rainbow blanket, which had done its job, we laid out a blanket on the floor instead, I put on a show for her to watch, and I called Joe first.

Turns out Joe had called because his deliverable is due tomorrow and he'd decided to stay on late to get some work done. Forgot the fact that I was supposed to go out "with the girls" tonight... a night I'd been looking forward to for over 2 weeks. Obviously, since they were a bunch of moms, including one that is 9 months pregnant, there was no way I could have gone in good conscious and spread the germs, but being home on time would have been more helpful under the new circumstances. He didn't know, felt bad, said he'd try to get his work done quicker so he could stay home with Claire tomorrow.

In the meantime, I called the doctor. The advice nurse called me back, we talked about the history you've already read/scanned through, and she said give Claire Pedialite, then some crackers, then dry toast, then dry cereal, then some bananas or applesauce, working our way back into protein and finally dairy products last. Okay, Pedialite - which I don't have. Not just water? No, the advice nurse said, something with extra electrolites is what Claire needs.

Great. Running out to the store only brought up images of the still-nasty carseat and floor and purse.... and no husband home to clean it or run the errand himself. So I imposed on our nextdoor neighbor (again), who turned out to be sick herself, to come over and sit with Claire while she watched TV and I cleaned the car up. Terry came over - she's an angel, did I mention that? - and sat with Claire while I cleaned the vomit up and dry-heaved myself. I got to the point where the seat was okay, the floor was okay, my purse was passable, but I could deal with the car seat anymore. I gave up, chickened out, moved it into the garage, and came upstairs. Threw the rags and dirty clothes into the washer, relieved Terry, and got Claire some water.

Of course, Claire was feeling better (after throwing up 3 times in 45 minutes, I might too), and was squirming around on the floor. She tipped over her water, and I snapped at her for making a mess. I felt terrible. She's only acting out the way she's feeling; she's not wallowing in her sickness, like most adults do. I should be relieved she feels better. But, no, I snapped at her for spilling water, something that's easy to clean up, even on a new carpet like ours. I apologized, of course, and she said she forgave me, and we watched the rest of her show.

Once the show was done, I was again faced with the fact that she was supposed to have Pedialite and crackers before bedtime. So, after another quick potty run, we got our shoes on, I told her to lie down in the back of the minivan again (since I hadn't cleaned the carseat yet and Joe had taken the booster seat to the storage unit which closes at 5) and we drove to the drug store. I picked up three bottles of Pedialite in various flavors, a box of crackers, and some carpet cleaner. While walking the aisles for crackers, Claire dropped one of the bottles of Pedialite twice, and I snapped at her both times. Obviously, I'm feeling the stress, and what a bitch I am for taking it out on my sick kid who is carrying a bottle that is just a tad bit too heavy for her. Eventually, I found the crackers, we traded loads, and walked to the checkout.

At the checkout she wanted to touch everything - the Easter candy, the stuffed animals, the counter - and I kept snapping at her to NOT - TOUCH - ANYTHING. She took it in stride. She started playing with her pj shorts, pulling them up to her hips, only to show that not-underwear-covered butt underneath; when I noticed the man behind us in line checking her butt out, I snapped at her to put her shorts down. Then I snapped at her for not following me out the door when the transaction was done.

I felt like crap while I got her to lay down in the back of the car again. Here I am - putting my kid in serious danger - and my last words to her will be "DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING." All the way home, I was torn between driving fast to get home sooner and images of my minivan being rear-ended and my sick daughter dying in the crash. Just as I turned onto a main street, Claire piped up from the back, "Mommy, you're a nice mommy," completely out of left field. I thanked her for the compliment, and told her I didn't deserve it. But we chatted more happily and I drove more slowly for the few remaining blocks.

The present: Claire's upstairs in bed, but not asleep. She had a dinner tonight that consisted of a Saltine (eaten too fast, despite my requests, as is her way) and four small sips of Pedialite. She doesn't like the unflavored version, but I told her she had to drink it all before she could have the flavored stuff. Of course, this is not the time to be picky; she doesn't like the unflavored kind, so she's not drinking it. But maybe this is a blessing in disguise, as she's drinking the unflavored one slowly, which is per the nurse's orders.

She did get up once, about 20 minutes ago, because she couldn't find Care Bear under her covers. She came downstairs to tell me, so I got up to help her, something I wouldn't have done if she were healthy. Halfway up the stairs, she started crying again, about how she had to cough, so I picked her up (OUCH!), carried her up the rest of the stairs, and she "coughed" into the toliet... the Pedialite and the one Saltine.

All I can say is Thank God Joe is staying home with her tomorrow. And bummer I'm missing games night. I've had enough lonely-type stress for tonight.

Radar

2007-03-06T16:19:00.000-08:00

I have felt yucky most of the day, and I didn't feel so hot last night either. Aside from ym students, I didn't tell anyone, though - it seems like whining, you know?

However, two of my favorite people on staff stopped by today to chat me up for a few minutes. They got me to laugh, to get my mind off my crappy mood, and get back to doing some work... for a while anyway. Total radar.

Feast to famine in a few short months

2006-12-28T15:21:00.001-08:00

I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty happy with the place I'm living in, from a scrapbooking standpoint. When I moved here 6.5 years ago, I had been going to a stamping store in MI and the small scrapbook aisle at Michael's for my scrapbooking needs. Made an entire 100+ page scrapbook for my 3-month trip to UK with those few supplies. (Probably very few of them are acid-free, though, and I should be scanning them soon - I know.)

When I moved out west, there was one scrapbook store next to the place I worked, and nothing else except Michael's and JoAnn's for 10+ miles (or nothing I could find in the phone book, anyway). Within 2 years, four more SB stores had popped up within 5 miles of me AND Michael's and JoAnn's had expanded their SB aisles AND Target developed an SB area too. There's even 2 SB Expos that come within 35 miles of me. I was in SB supply heaven!

About 4 years ago, I discovered a SB store down the street from me with a weird name that never would have clued me in that it was SB supply. It was an average place, but it seemed to carry a lot of old supplies and not update with the latest stuff I was seeing in MM. Within 4 months of me finding it, it closed, and some people told me it was open for less than a year. Ditto with the stamping store in my little downtown area; they closed after only a few months and moved to website-only, and then they shut that down too. I still had my main four, not to mention the bigger chains, so no biggie.

A few months ago, one of the stores near me (one I didn't visit often because it was further away than others) closed their doors. This is the place everyone went for those hard-to-find basic supplies, and sometimes for the really cool, really trendy papers. That store also had Friday night crops that lasted until 2am... or later, depending on how the store employee felt at 2. They had a loyal following, and they were situated in an area with a lot of upper-middle class and upper class homes and people who could work from home or still stay at home... many with expendable income to support something like SB. I was shocked it was closing, but not surprised, since there were so many stores in the area competing. I didn't have a second thought about it.

This morning, I just found out that one of my 2 main SB haunts is closing early next month. I can't explain how this has affected my head today. I know the owners and talk to them socially whenever I'm in. I started going there alone 2.5 years ago for crops just to get work done and feed my social need... and then started taking my friends. One night, there were 8 of us there, and he had such a great time! They always have these cool little embellishments and trendy papers that I've never seen anywhere else. They usually book their 25 seats for Friday night crops every week. Again, it's on the border of a upper-class area with SAHM/Ds and tons of expendable income... and I can't believe they're closing. I feel like the guy I lost my virginity to is dumping me because he's gay. "No, no, it's not you; it's me."

This is compounded by my other main SB haunt cutting back their Friday night crops to no more that 2x per week and introduce more gift wrap and stationary, while crowding out some of the truly good, cute, and unique SB supplies. When they started doing that at the beginning of December, I thought, "Eh, it's only for the holidays and I can always go to the other place." But now my other place won't be there!

There is an upside: I'm on vacation this week and they're have a 30% off sale beginning tomorrow. You bet I'll be there when the doors open. But, with mixed feelings: it's like being dumped by the gay guy you lost your virginity to... and then paying him for sex anyway. "Okay, fine, it's you. But maybe we can both walk away from this happily."

Wants and pressures

2006-12-03T21:11:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling the pressure of posting something interesting, brilliant, even tittilating for my 100th post. This has been more pressure than posting something important on my one-year anniversary, which passed a few weeks back. However, for want of something better, I'm going to tell y'all the same story I've been repeating to everyone about my clever child.

So, her birthday was a few days ago. The day before her birthday, we told the kid, "Make sure you tell everyone it's your last day being 2.5." She said okay, we dropped her off at preschool, and went on to work.

My husband picked her up from school, and I met up with them before dinner. As she was playing, I asked her, "Did you tell everyone today was your last day being 2.5?"

"Um, no, I forgot really," she said, with a sway of her head.

"That's okay. You can tell everyone tomorrow that you're 3 instead."

"No, 3.5!" she insisted.

"Honey, you're not going to be 3.5, you're going to be 3. You were 1, then 1.5, 2, then 2.5, 3, and then 3.5. You'll be 3.5 in the summer."

"But I don't want to be 3. I want to be 3.5," she begins to whine.

"First you have to be 3. You'll be 3 tomorrow."

She paused for a moment, tilted her head, and gave me her best teen angst look while saying, "Mommy, that's not what I was going for."

An addendum: Since then, she's decided she's 5, not 3 or 3.5, and has actuall thrown a tantrum, in the hopes that we'll "cave" and let her be 5. This, coming from the kid who told everyone for months she was getting a bike for her birthday. When Joe explained she wasn't getting one until the summer, she said, "Okay," and then walked off to play.

Have you ever noticed...

2006-11-20T15:33:00.000-08:00

... that no matter how organized and motivated you are the finish grading, you hit this "critical mass" moment when you need a serious break... and then ANYTHING will do? I just spent 20 minutes eating clementines and browsing iTunes for absolutely nothing in particular. But I needed a break.

Grading period ends in two days and I'm determined to take almost nothing home over the long weekend. I consider it worth my while right now to stay up late the next few nights getting tests, homework, and writing assignments graded so I don't have to feel their shadow over my break. My husband's gonna kill me when he finds out.

You see, I've been trying to live more healthy, and I'm pulling hubby along. We've been putting more fresh foods - especially fruits and veggies - into our diets and I've all but cut out juices and pops. I've drawn up a schedule of exercise for myself, and we've both been trying to get chores done early in the day/evening so we can relax together and then get some sleep. The NetHack tournament has been cutting into hubby's sleep some, but he's getting better.

It's hard at this time of year to not put the kid to bed and just plop down on the couch. I mean, it's cold outside, so who really wants to ride a bike around the block or rollerblade? Not me, under most circumstances. And the all shows are in sweeps. And then all these movies are being released for the holidays. And I could catch up on reading and replying to email.

I'm amazed that my daughter doesn't feel the pull. I'm jealous too. But then, she has been telling everyone who'll listen, "I'm very very tired," even when she's not showing any signs of it.

Idol (not idle) worship

2006-11-02T22:46:00.000-08:00

I'm currently at the CRA conference in Sacramento. I came here with two of my co-workers, the head librarian and the SpedEd Department Chair, both women I like personally and professionally.

We got in late last night, and the librarian (who'd driven the whole way) turned in right away. The SpEd person and I went to the hotel restaurant for dinner before the kitchen closed. On the ride up, we'd talked about a lot of things, but especially about my excitement of going to a workshop given by Dr. Kate Kinsella, an educator, speaker, and researcher that I highly respect. She is number three on my list of people I want to grow up to become, just below Joyce Dyer and Donna Sheridan.

So, Mimi (the SpEd woman) and I are looking at our menus, and I look over her left shoulder, only to see Kate Kinsella at the next table, talking to some people. I totally felt like I was in high school. "Psst. Mimi. Kate Kinsella's sitting behind you." Mimi slowly looked over her shoulder long enough to see Dr. Kinsella, and then whipped her head back to front and nearly squealed! Our heart rates imemediately went up a bit, and we turned into two schoolgirls back stage at the concert of the latest boy band... except Kinsella will change the education world much more than any boy band has changed the musical climate in this country. Mimi did this great, "Ms. Kinsella? Will you sign my menu?" kind of mimic, but we both knew neither of us would ever have the guts to do that... to just go up to Kate Kinsella and introduce ourselves. I mean, this is KATE KINSELLA! Ha! We went on to talk about what she must do when she's traveling (does she get to talk about something besides pedagogy?) and proposed creating a t-shirt with her head and the conference logo on the front to commemorate the event of SITTING NEAR Dr. Kate. Ha! (Did I mention we were tired?)

This morning, I showed to my all-day session with her late a few minutes because the keynote let out late. The convention liaison for the session pointed me toward the front because I had my laptop and wanted power, so I could take notes the whole 8 hours. Since the plug was under her table, Dr. Kate asked that I not disrupt the session by doing so, and I complied. I took notes on the outside of an envelope.

However, the session (both the morning and afternoon part) were wonderful. Some people were seriously overwhelmed with all her information, but Kinsella even admitted that the workshop she was giving was typically 2 days. She explained, "I feel like I'm giving you just enough information to make you dangerous." Many of the techniques she went over were similar or exactly strategies that Read 180 uses, but that's not coincidence, since she's one of the authors on the program. But, consequently, I already knew some of the strategies and was not as overwhelmed, I think.

Since I'm teaching roots from a book suggested by the district, and I don't like the way they present the roots, I asked her about teaching roots. She'd mentioned earlier in the session about teaching high-frequency prefixes and suffixes, but not roots. It turns out she feels affixes are more important. Once the students master those and how to use the information, then you can teach the roots, "but, you know, only the really important ones." I gave the example of "bene-" as one I thought was important. She challenged me to name some words that use the root, so I mentioned benefit, beneficial, benefactor, and she asked me when the next time my students would be using those words in my class. I admitted I didn't know. Her point, which she was reiterating from earlier in the day, was that teaching word families (assume, assumption, etc.) of common academic words was more helpful and useful to the students.

I saw her point, and I agree mostly. My issue is that she never gave an example of a root that was "important," so I felt there was no closure. However, in my teaching of roots (and even basic syntax), I'm finding that students don't know how affixes change the meaning and usage of words, and that's something much more manageable (and "useful," as Dr. Kate said)... rather than archane words from the roots workbook like "pusillanimous" (root, anim = life, mind, soul, feeling). I had never seen or heard that word before it showed in the roots workbook. I didn't know how to say it or what it meant, even with my knowledge of roots and affixes. However, I know now, and I think I might use it in my band's name when my husband gets Guitar Hero II.

After the session, which she dismissed early because she had to catch a plane, I waited for the crowd to clear. I asked her if she wanted help taking her stuff to the hotel, and she accepted my offer. We walked through the conference hotel, down the block in the rain, to the hotel we were both staying at, so she could get her car and checked luggage. We talked about the program I'm teaching that she authored, the people she's gotten to meet in her travels, and how lazy or misguided some people can be in their instructional strategies. It was a cool talk. I dismissed myself before her car came, so I could go upstairs and dump some stuff in my room before meeting my co-workers in the exhibit hall. I still feel like I carried the rock star's guitar or something. I only hope that my teaching will be informed by my experiences today, especially those relating to language acquisition.

I'm dreading going back to my classroom Monday with these new strategies that Kate Kinsella has given to me... everything I planned before will seem so shabby and weak. It's like getting used to Madame Forestier's mirrored closets and pretty jewelry, only to return to the beat up couches in Madame and Monsieur Loisel's home.

--

On a side note, is it kismet that the Sacramento Convention Center, which is across the street from my hotel, is hosting the CRA conference and Scrapbook Expo in the same weekend? I didn't even know... I swear. I've been deleting their emails for months because - honestly? - why should I drive to Sacramento in the fall when the Expo will come to my neighborhood in February?

In order to work through the temptation of going and spending money, I called the woman I crop with most Fridays, Rosetta. I was breathing shallowly as I told her about the coincidence, as if I was an Narcotics Anonymous member calling my sponsor. You know what my "sponsor" said? Essentially, "go to the crack house, enjoy yourself, and bring me some back too."

I'm left wondering, though... did I call her because I wanted her to help me be strong? Or did I call her because I knew she'd be jealous and would encourage me to go?

I knew it...

2006-10-21T21:23:00.000-07:00

HowManyOfMe.com

There is:
1
person with my name
in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

Critical thinking... at a premium

2006-10-17T23:08:00.000-07:00

I've heard people rail about students and their lack of critical thinking. I've seen it a bit first hand, but nothing too serious. Here or there a kid, nothing massive. This is still true, but I've had some incidents today. Must share now.

1) A clever freshmen in my class today was finishing a basic sentence structure review worksheet. He's one of the kids in the class who knows his stuff with this, but he wanted to get the work done so he wouldn't have homework and could talk for the remaining few minutes of class. I caught him taking another student's completed worksheet, I assume with the plan of copying. I returned the worksheet to the owner and warned student-in-question that he should not copy. I told him it was okay to ask classmates for help, since that is a verbal communication and does require some thinking, but mindless copying is not a good idea. I came back a few minutes later, and he was copying again... from another student's paper. I returned the paper to the owner, took his, and ripped it up. I felt bad that it was extreme, but I wanted to be really clear about the copying issue. I gave him a new one and reminded him of the due date, just in time for the bell to ring and end class.

Now, I'm not upset as much about the copying issue, although that is an issue. My frustration comes from how idiotic this student is. I mean, okay, fine, you want to copy. Ask some student for his worksheet, pack up both in the binder, and copy next period, when no one will be noticing! I don't want to teach him sentence structure AND copying, but the thought crossed my mind.

2) My students finished reading "The Most Dangerous Game" last week. I'm grading their workbooks for the grading period. One student - quiet, but studious, attentive, high effort, good grade - had some good comments in the margin of the workbooks about the story and I was impressed. The last question in the workbook says something like, "What do you think happened to Rainsford and Zaroff at the end of the story?" Although the story isn't totally hit-you-over-the-head obvious, but Zaroff sets it up by stating that in a head-to-head, one man will feed the dogs and the other will sleep in the bed. The story ends by saying that Rainsford slept in the bed. Therefore, if Rainsford slept in the bed, Zaroff fed the dogs with his body. Right?

Well, this student wrote that he thought the guys became best friends and stayed on the island to hunt together. SIGH! Really? Are you sure, student?

Ooops...

2006-10-02T19:23:00.000-07:00

Don't you hate it when you realize you've squandered the last three days of standardized testing... and have no idea what you're teaching tomorrow? I do.

Beat down

2006-09-29T16:23:00.000-07:00

Today, I gave my students a standardized reading test, which was required by the district. In its efforts to attack freshmen development/testing slumps, the DO decided to add two more reading/writing tests to the students' list of assessments throughout the year. So now, my students take finals in January and June, course and teacher specific. They take a standardized reading test twice per year, in Sept/Oct and April. Our school has also decided to do writing assessments school-wide to trace progress in writing skills; the students get that three times per year.

So, for most of my freshmen, I gave them a writing assessment yesterday and the first of a two-day reading assessment today. (Don't get me started on how the DO thought it would be a one-period test and it really, really is not; the directions say it's untimed, for golly's sake!) My 2/3 period class was pretty quiet, but I'm their first two periods of the day, for most of them anyway, so I didn't think anything of it. I should have known something was in the air, though, since they're also the most outgoing, the most talkative, and the most comfortable with each other and me. My 4th and 5th periods were unsually low-energy, low-key, and quiet. I found out why as I handed out the tests to my 5th period: other departments in the school were doing the first of two progress assessments today. Two students in 5th period had a "standardized" or progress test every period: science in 2nd period, Spanish in 3rd period, swim test in 4th period, and then the second of 3 English tests in my class 5th period.

My kids are beat down. I didn't have to read the directions about how to fill out the name, date, grade, gender, birthday, ID bubbles on the answer sheet. They listened quietly to directions and rolled their eyes. They finished the tests quickly and then put their head down. Most students genuinely fell asleep. I would too, if I'd been assessed all day. Even if the kids didn't take it seriously (and most seemed to, from what I saw), being assessed and reading and figuring out: it's tiring for their poor 14 and 15 year old brains. I didn't teach most of the day, and I'm exhausted!

--

My reading/English kids 2/3 period were the funniest, and I have never loved them as much as I did today. I have them for two periods back-to-back and I don't even let them out for the 5 minute passing period for a break. My instructional model for the reading program is pretty structured: 20 minutes in whole group, then 3 20-minute rotations, then 10 minutes wrap-up. Since I have them for 110 minutes continually, we do the model the way it's supposed to be, and then we finish out the time with some of the freshmen-required syntax unit.

Today, the students were still working on their reading assessment when the bell rang for the end of the 2nd period. One student asked if he could get up and go near the door. Since he's recovering from a nasty cold, I thought he was going to go outside and spit, which he's been doing 2-3 times per day for a few days. Nope. He got up, pulled the door stop up, and closed the door, simply returning to his reading assessment. Now this kid, he's a goof-off and an instigator and a quick thinker and a lot of other things that substitute teachers don't like. I was shocked that he even thought to close the door (which I do on normal days to prevent my students from getting distracted by the students outside changing classes), much less wanted one less distraction from his test.

My block class was all voted to have both the reading and writing tests on the same day. Originally, I presented it to them as two tests that would take 2 full periods. They said break it up; that's too much! I thought, okay, that makes sense. Then one student was smart enough to ask if that would mean two days without rotations, I admitted that would be the case, and most students changed to all tests on one day. One even called attention to how much sooner he wanted to get to the next article in our reading book, about the Black Plague, and about half the class echoed his enthusiasm.

Now, I know this will skew the results. Students whose brains have been tested for two solid hours will not perform as well as students who have not. I don't feel bad about this for two main reasons: this is the pre-test for both assessments. Both will have follow-ups, maybe 2 follow-ups. Plus? I myself would prefer to have one more solid day to teach instead of being interrupted so much... by these important assessments... that assess things I'm supposed to be teaching... but I don't have time to teach because I'm giving the assessments... to test their abilities based on my teaching... you see where I'm going here?

S-T-R-E-S-S-E-D or desserts?

2006-09-20T15:48:00.000-07:00

This week is the worst kind of stress: home, work, and volunteer.

Tonight is Back to School Night. Many may know that I don't bother decorating my room much, but I always feel like I need to make an effort right before the parents come. I started looking at my room through parents' eyes on Friday and decided they'd think the microphones and headphones at each computer were left messy, the big gaping hole where the clock should be is very ghetto, and the bare walls would be uninviting. Not to mention the bulletin board from last year that still has work and photos from last year. So I've been trying to get supplies to make my room nice. Plus, I'm a bit behind in grading (not as bad as usual) and feel like I should try to get caught up and get grades printed in case parents want to know.

At home, I've been working hard to keep the place clean, but it's starting to ware on me. I don't want to nag my honey to do stuff, but sometimes it takes him DAYS to empty the dishwasher, and then the dirty dishes pile up and, frankly, start stinking up the place. Plus, he doesn't take out the garbage until you've truly compacted it, he'd prefer to put empty boxes and bottles on the dryer than take out the recycling, and he doesn't care if there are clothes to fold and put away because we normally pile them on my couch, not his. Luckily, last night, he finally did a lot of the work that needed to be done, in addition to filling a load of dishes (which is my job) because he knew he was preventing me from doing mine.

And then there's the volunteer stuff. Ugh. This weekend, I'll be one of two main organizers for a picnic that will welcome over 250 people to a park for a celebration. Getting the details just right - confirming RSVPs, scheduling vendors and entertainers, securing raffle items, making signs, recruiting volunteers, budgeting, etc. - has been exhausting. It didn't seem like that much work 6 months ago, but none of the volunteers wanted to start really thinking about getting the work done until 3 weeks ago. (Me included, to tell you the truth; at least I tried.) And now I'm spending 2-3 hours between the email and the phone confirming plans and answering questions. Someone better send me a care package soon, cuz I'm gonna bust. My co-organizer and I have been joking about drinking after the picnic, but it's getting to be less and less like a joke.

All of that taken with the fact that my work-out buddy is out of town (and I'm not sure I'd have time to workout if she were in town) and my period is on its way... well, my stress level is high and so's my intake of creamy sugary foods. Which is bad for me, for those who are wondering.

Back to hanging posters and grading papers.

4-year battle nearly over

2006-09-18T22:04:00.000-07:00

I got this email today:

This e-mail verifies that you have met all of the necessary academic
requirements for:

Credential(s):
Professional Clear Single Subject Teaching Credential

Submitted: Tue Sep 19 00:57:28 EDT 2006

/me sighs the largest sigh of relief.

Because I don't believe in the Oracle

2006-09-18T00:55:00.000-07:00

Stolen from donna, who stole it from hkath, whose URL I don't know off the top of my head.

1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question even if it doesn't make sense. NO CHEATING!
~~4. Tag 10 people to play this game too.~~

One more addendum: I share a music server with my husband, so if I don't know the song, I'm skipping to the next one.

-> Will you get far in life?
"Harbor Lights" by Bruce Hornsby. As far as I know, it's about seduction.

->How do your friends see you?
"Superstition" by Stevie Wonder
Seven years of bad luck, good things in the past Lovely.

->Will you get married?
"Meanies" by Jim's Big Ego
Goodies like us, we have to stick tight and tell ourselves that we are right. Uh hunh.

->What is your best friend's theme song?
"What's It All About" by Five O'Clock Shadow
I've always said I'll do whatever the hell I want Yup, that's about right.

->What is the story of your life?
"Give Judy my Notice" by Ben Folds
'Cuz I come running when you want me here

->What was high school like?
"Shimmer" by Shawn Mullins
I want to shimmer, I want to shine, I want to radiate, I want to live, I want to love, I want to try to learn not to hate Yup.

->How can you get ahead in life?
"Downtown Lights" by Annie Lennox.
Um, I've never liked this song. But, "just accept the present" or "take notice of your surroundings"? I don't know the advice here.

->What is the best thing about your friends?
"Love's Recovery" by Indigo Girls
Yikes. The best part is we can be morbidly honest? I don't know.

->What is today going to be like?
"Jolly Roving Tar" by GBS
Apparently, I'm going to get uproariously drunk. That should be interesting, since I have library orientation scheduled all day for class.

->What is in store this weekend?
"I Love L.A." by Randy Newman
You can't drag me to L.A. this weekend to save my life. For many reasons.

->What song describes you?
"Starbright" by Jim Brickman
Did I forget to mention that all our Christmas music is on the server too? =)

->What song describes your grandparents?
"Opening Time" by Push Stars
Sometime I feel like I'm the salt on your soul / Or what's left over in your cereal bowl / Or like cheap coffee that's turning to cold Yikes.

->How is your life going now?
"She Has a Girlfriend Now" by Reel Big Fish
It's not like that. Really. On the other hand, I was out with my "girlfriends" the last three nights in a row, so I think Joe might throttle me soon if I don't pay attention to him soon.

->What song would they play at your funeral?
"Winter Wonderland" by Tony Bennett
Again with the Christmas. My mom wants "It's Over" from ELO played at her funeral. Dad says not while he's alive. Mom says it's now in her will. =)

->How does the world see you?
"California" by Rufus Wainwright
I live there, yes. My extended family can't seem to understand that where I live is a good 6-8 hours' drive from my cousin in LA. Heh. Different life.

->Will you have a happy life?
"Centerfold," cover of the J. Geils Band by a cappella group Delusions of Grandeur
I'm not posing. My subscription to Playboy ran out a few years ago and I did not renew because I never had time to read it.

->What do your friends really think of you?
"S.R." by Reel Big Fish
All the other bands are shit! Hehehe. See previous post

->Do people secretly lust after you?
"Crucify " by Tori Amos
I'm not sure that's a direct answer.

->How can I make myself happy?
"Senza Motivo Apparente" by Ennio Morricone
Um, this song has no lyrics to work from. But I love the muted trumpet. Does that answer the question?

->What should I do with my life?
"Don't Look Back" by The Temptations
I kid you not. That's what came up. Man, that sucks. There goes all my scrapbooking time and money.

->Will you ever have children?
"I'm Waiting for the Man" by Velvet Underground
Um, didn't I already found him? I mean, I have a kid. Soo...

Restless

2006-09-17T00:51:00.000-07:00

I am musically restless. It's been going on for a few weeks. The only thing I can work to right now is BEP, and I'm getting sick of it. When I listen to the iPod in the car, I skip through nearly every song, and the only one I've heard the end of in weeks is something from Stevie Wonder.

I picked up BEP in early 2006, I've been enjoying Juanes's Mi Sangre, and that's all the new music in my life. Unless you count Music Together, which I don't.

In college and shortly thereafter, I was always learning about new performers because I was going to concerts a lot. I'd see the opener, or talk to other people in the audience about their favorite music, so new stuff was always popping up on the radar. I haven't been to a complete show in almost 2 years now. I didn't think I'd miss it.

And the radio is so stale. I don't mind listening to it, but there's so rarely anything on I'd like enough to buy an entire CD of. I'm even tired of my favorite radio station, and I never thought that was possible.

I need some recommendations. I'm thinking I need something heavier, something with a driving beat, but something that's fairly cheerful (or at least, not depressing). I've been through the mellow music phase, and I don't feel now like I did then. I need something to get my blood going, to get me bopping in the car while I'm driving, to get me focused on the work that I tend to have at hand.

Any suggestions?

Juxtaposition

2006-09-16T17:40:00.000-07:00

It is the worst kind of juxtaposition to finish listening to Night by Elie Wiesel on CD in the car... and the CD changer begins playing "Real World" by John Mayer. Oddly enough, I found several appropriate phrases that linked, though.

Stepping in line

2006-09-15T15:00:00.000-07:00

For a long time, actually - since the beginning, I have not been writing real lesson plans for my classes.

I've been looking at resources, figuring out what the students need to work on, and pulling something together. I have no lesson plans, no unit plans, no nothing. The last 2 years, I've been flying by the seat of my pants, making things up as I go, letting inspiration move me as it needs to. More than once (and I'm ashamed to admit this), I've come up with what I'm doing in class that day on my drive to work. Occasionally, I'll write something in the little boxes in my teacher plan book, but they're bullet points about skills or pages, not actually what we're going to do, just what we're going to cover. And more often than not, when I do that for a week or more at a time, it's totally bogus by the time I get to the end of the planned stuff. I'm not on schedule, I've skipped things I need to figure out how to backtrack for, I've lost all inspiration and don't know where to go from there. Oh, or I just forget to look in the book once I write it down.

This year, we're being WASCed. Plus, I'm getting sick of reinventing the wheel for myself every year. So I've been trying to keep better tabs on what I'm doing. And, I've begun to write lesson plans. I've only written two so far, but I'm doing okay. Date, objectives, standards, materials/prep, procedure, eval. No problem.

I like working with lesson plans. When I wrote them for credential classes and then used them afterwards, they seem more thought out, more aware, more connected than most of my other teaching. I'm just not a planner, I'm rarely organized, and I seem to have so many other things to do with my time.

So, my question: do people seriously write lesson plans for every day? Wow. This seems like a lot of work. Don't get me wrong, it's good work. I think it'll make me a better teacher in the short and long run, but, man! My little fingers have been typing for mostly an hour now, and I've only written Tuesday's and Wednesday's lessons out. Do these go faster? Are they easier?

And here's my other beef: veteran teachers at my HS tell me that they continue to revise, edit, pitch, and insert new lesson plans every year. Seriously? I mean, I can see teachers go through things and rethinking and everything. But, sometimes they really do start from the beginning? Yikes. So all this work I'm doing this year might be worth nothing next year? Really?

More quotes from Deptford

2006-09-09T11:38:00.000-07:00

"Dr. von Haller: Oh, come. We all create an outward self with which to face the world, and some people come to believe it is what they truly are. So they people the world with doctors who are nothing outside the consulting-room, and judges who are nothing when they are not in court, and businessmen who wither in boredom when they have to retire from business, and teachers who are forever teaching. That is why they are such poor specimens when they are caught without their masks on. They have lived chiefly through the Persona."

"... every man who amounts to a damn has several fathers, and the man who begat him ... may not be the most important father. The father you choose for yourself are the significant ones. But you didn't choose Boy, and you never knew him. No; no man knows his father. If Hamlet hd known his father he would never have made such an almighty fuss about a man who was fool enough to marry Gertrude."

"It all came about because of boredom. Boredom and stupidity and patriotism, especially when combined, are three of the greatest evils of the world we live in."

"'I don't agree,' said Ingestree. 'I think joking about the past is a way fo suggesting that it wasn't really important. A way of veiling its horror, perhaps. We shudder when we hear of yesterday's plane accident, in which seventy people were killed; but we become increasingly philosophical about horrors that are further away. What is the Charge of the Light Brigade now? We remember it as a military blunder... We joke about the historic fact and the poetic fact. But how many people ever think of the young men that charged? Who takes five minutes to summon up in his mind what they felt as they rushed to death? It is the fate of the past to be fuel for humour.
"'Have you put your finger on it?' said Lind... 'Jokes dissemble horrors and make them seem unimportant. And why? Is it in order that more horrors may come? In order that we may never learn anything from experience? I have never been very fond of jokes. I being to wonder if they are not evil.'"

"'But what's an autobiography? Surely it's a romance of which one is oneself the hero. Otherwise, why write the thing?'"

Good things

2006-09-05T21:27:00.000-07:00

We went to a park yesterday for a Labor Day picnic - me, my husband, my 2.5yo daughter, and a friend from college. He hasn't seen Claire since mid-July, and Halloween before then. She's had a lot of growing in that time. At lunch, he kept saying, "It's like talking to a short adult. She responds to you, she answers questions, she starts conversations."

He's right, too. I don't see my daughter through his eyes often, but Claire is a lot like a small adult. This evening she scarfed down a bowl of fruit and 1.5 pierogis before telling Joe, "Daddy, I would like some garlic salt on mine, please." It wasn't a demand, and it wasn't full of contractions. Even the fact that she expressed an interest in garlic salt, after seeing Joe use it but without either of us naming it tonight, is truly amazing. Joe had to ask her to repeat herself, it was so surprising and unassuming.

This evening, I took her for a walk to the local strip mall to get a cookie or two for her and some coffee or cider for me. I don't walk with her as much as I'd like, since I rarely pick her up from daycare before I have to go home and make dinner these days. The walk was good, though. We talked about her day at school and said hello to "Luna," as Claire calls the moon. She raced ahead of me, and then waited for me to catch up before racing ahead again.

Along the way, Claire's always looking for something to hold. She picks up sticks, leaves, rocks... anything to either put on our mantlepiece or put in the rosemary bush "for company." I remember being a collector of rocks and pretty leaves, but can't get into my young head enough to remember the motivation for it now.

Claire's got the motivation, though. On our way to the cookie store, she told each and every small rock and twig to stay where it was "and I'll come and get you when we come back, okay?" And then she'd report to me, with a little laugh, "I told the rock to stay there until I got back, Mommy."

True to her word, though, she picked up every twig and rock on the way back, for a total or four this evening. At some point, she fell down while balancing on some big river rocks and broke a twig, which she left with the rocks since it was no longer long. But then her eye caught a longer but skinnier twig and a smaller river rock, which she picked up.

She held them up for my inspection. "I've got little things, Mommy. I'm got a little stick and a little rock. I've got little things, good things."

Me too.

Vino

2006-09-04T18:09:00.000-07:00

In 1999, when I was hired at Merchant of Vino, what I call the bastard child of Whole Foods Market, I was just looking for a discount and another part-time job to pay the bills. I had just quit Gratzi, a coffeehouse at Briarwood Mall, because the manager and I did not get along. I was working at Sylvan as a tutor and I was soon to pick up a job tutoring Alison, a 7th grader recovering from leukemia. Plus, it was 2 blocks from our apartment.

Although I was only at Merchant of Vino for about a year, I really enjoyed it. My work in the deli was fun at a time when the store was changing: they renovated the bakery and added a salad bar while was I there. When they redid the bakery, a few of us wrote our name and “Deli rocks” in the cement before they laid the tile. The deli seemed to be where the action was, since we were next to the front door and worked closely with produce while regularly serving staff from wine, cashiers, and meat.

The best part was the people. I still say that my manager in the department, former butcher turned cheese expert Holly Barr, is the best boss I’ve ever had. She knew how to be friends with her co-workers while still being in charge. She regularly scheduled outings to bars and bowling with us to build team spirit, but once we were back at work, she required us to be adult and kind to each other. It was the first time I’d encountered a single working mom, and she blew me away with her devotion and her determination; she held this job down while going to school. She was even able to handle Lucci, the chef and caterer, who no one ever crossed except Holly. Somehow, he listened to her, even when she said he was wrong. Then there was Kiki (the flirt from San Jose), Tony (the wisecracker), Sonya (the older and “more experienced” talker), Joyce (the retiree who turned me on to scrapbooking) and Dominic (formerly produce, now caterer under Lucci – I still can’t think of Vertical Horizon’s “Everything You Want” without thinking of him). All of these people were my friends, if only for a little while.

There were other benefits to my time at Vino, too. I was working lots of early mornings and weekends, and I always brought home lunchmeat and cheeses to make Joe’s lunches with. We tried almost every prepared food the deli and bakery offered, sometimes just before it passed its expiration date. When we had football parties or a friend like Donna was in town, we always got meals for free or deeply discounted prices. The Christmas I worked at Vino, I even made expensive sampler baskets of food for my godparents and grandparents, since I didn’t have time to make something by hand. Lots of people at Vino were trying to get me to go full-time (32 hours), since it also gave me benefits, a retirement savings plan, and paid volunteer hours. But I never got the chance to do it.

Whenever I walk into a Whole Foods, I still feel some kind of nostalgia for that time in my life. I still think about going back sometime in the future, but I won’t know if that’s in the stars for me until it happens. The Merchant of Vino I used to work out is no longer a Whole Foods, and they've eliminated a lot of the regular food in favor of expanding the alcohol section, so I can't go back there.

What is "literacy"?

2006-09-01T14:49:00.000-07:00

Someone told me last year not to expect to have a textbook the first week. I figured that was pretty reasonable, and I could fill up the four-day week with plenty of rules and procedures practice, getting to know you activities, learning styles activities, and the like. Sure. But then I found that I really didn't have as much as I thought, so I decided to look for a lesson plan that would set the stage for the year, something that would be sufficiently introductory while being challenging to the thinking processes of the students.

I'm doing a modification of the ReadWriteThink lesson about defining text, literacy, and the skills needed to work with them. My 9th grade students found the third column on the first day hard; it requires them to brainstorm skills they use when creating with the wide range of texts they've already brainstormed. Words like "compose" and "design" are difficult for them after a long summer off, I think, so I got a lot of "write," "make," and "color." Oy.

Eventually, though, we got to the group definitions of literacy. They're not fabulous, but many of them of things that I was able to highlight and nudge the students toward for a class definition of literacy. The group definitions are below. My favorite thing about them is that some are obviously trying on words and phrases they know more educated people use to validate their definition, but others didn't even try. It's so obvious, and I can point to the groups that did one or the other.

“Literacy in today’s world is still mainly reading and writing. Everything you do, in a way, is related to literacy. For example: when you’re making a gesture it’s like your body is writing out a message for the other person to read it."

“To read and write is considered literacy. Literacy is discovering and learning the moods using the illustration to see if it will be a good book a movie or even a play. To me literacy in this world means being able to communicate your idea clearly and effectively. Use text to determine many things.”

“In today’s world literacy is like being able to receive and get messages. Internet is a great way to receive email and text. We receive literacy by watching, listening, feeling. Music can express ideas in different culture as well as statues and buildings. There’s another way of receiving messages by chatting with friends and family.”

“Today’s text includes many skills like reading, writing, listening, and thinking. Text is so important that without it the world would be unsafe. Most text is used to describe things. Text makes people understand things the same way.”

“We think literacy is about making predictions. Books. Things express ideas, that makes people express themselves.”

“Literacy is the total of everything in the world that can be learned or taught from such as reading, writing, media, books, internet, anything that has information.”

“Literacy is an extremely important tool in education. Being able to read and write allows one to gain more knowledge. It also helps one get the vast amount of education possible. Literacy is more than just reading and writing, its understanding and applying written matter to function in society. It broadens one’s knowledge therefore helps him/her advance in life. Literacy is one’s most valuable possession.”

“Literacy is being able to read and write. Literacy appeals to the five senses. It also paints a vivid picture in people’s minds. Literacy is deprived in some countries, and it expresses ideas in reading and writing.”

“In today’s American dictionary, the word literacy is the meaning of being able to read and write. I think literacy in today’s world is all types of writing out there. It’s also how people communicate by writing. Writing is what makes people successful. Finally it means that you read a book and understanding what you read.”

“Literacy is reading and learning how to write. It also is the ability to use language – to read, write, and speak. Literacy can also interacting with sound, still and moving images, making for another branch of literacy, and being able to express yourself in your own ideas and opinions.”

The lowest form...

2006-08-31T20:58:00.000-07:00

In preparation for this book talk that I'll be doing tomorrow (or maybe Tuesday, if I chicken out), I've been leafing through all those books I listed before and a few more that I've added. I'm trying to figure out what I'd say about why I like, love, and hate them.

I have only just realized that I like Amelia Bedelia and The King Who Rained for the same reason. It is my theory that, through these books, my mother developed my budding sense of humor and turned me onto puns.

My husband says that puns are the lowest form of humor, a quote I know he stole from somewhere. I finally have the proof to show him how my development was a sidistic experiment my mother dreamed up to make her kids more like herself. She made me left-handed, she made me think in puns, she made me laugh at puns. Anything else her power didn't touch? Not much.

Those books which have touched me.

2006-08-27T17:49:00.000-07:00

My department co-chair gave me a book to read over the summer, since I'm teaching the developmental reading class this year, called I Read It, But I Don't Get It. I flipped through the first few pages and found them so engrossing that I was done with chapter 3 before I left campus.

One of the things Tovani writes in it is an exercise she does with her students where they are reminded of books that have had an impact on their lives. Her goal, without telling the students, is to get them to think about when kids liked books, enjoyed reading, felt reading held some special power or magic.

On the day she did/does this, Tovani brings in a basket of books and shows them to the students. One by one, she brings them out, shows them to the students, maybe reads a snippet, and then explains how they affected her. Sometimes they're books that taught her something, sometimes they're books she hated, sometimes they're books she's never read. She brings out a wide range of books - children's books, series books, adult books, non-fiction books, fiction books - to talk about and encourages students to share their personal experiences about the books she shows. Then, she gives them some time to think and write, requiring them to bring in one book and do the same type of presentation the next day as a means of introduction.

In preparation for a similar activity with my reading students, I went through my bookshelves to pull books that have had an effect on me. As an avid reader and an English teacher, it's not surprising that I pulled out dozens of books. Currently, I'm going through the pile to find a way to pare the pile down, so I'm not a talking head the entire period. I'll post the final list with commentary once I sift through it and maje some hard decisions.

In the meantime, here's my first-draft list, in no particular order, without commentary. What's yours?

Emily of New Moon by L. M. Montgomery
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Doomsday Book by Connie Willis
As You Like It by William Shakespeare
The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien
The Silmarillion by J. R. R. Tolkien
Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin
Paradise Lost by Milton
Tam Lin by Pamela Dean
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
Go, Dog, Go! by Dr. Seuss
My Poetry Book ed. by Grace Huffard
Amelia Bedelia by Peggy Parish
The Odyssey by Homer
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
Dozens of Cousins by Mabel Watts
For Little Sleepy Heads ed. by Maryjane Hooper Tonn
Disney's Uncle Remus Stories
The Bumper Book ed. by Piper
The Provensen Book of Fairy Tales
Making Up Your Own Mind by Joy Wilt
The Simpsons: A Complete Guide to Our Favorite Family by Matt Groening
Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech
Griffin and Sabine by Nick Bantock
Second Thyme Around by Katie Fforde
Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet
Heidi by Johanna Spyri
books for Babysitter's Club, Nancy Drew, and Sweet Valley High series
Edie Changes Her Mind by Johanna Johnston
The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay
The Solitaire Mystery by Jostein Gaarder
On a Pale Horse by Piers Anthony

It's gettin' kinda...

2006-08-26T13:35:00.000-07:00

I spent the summer doing a lot of things that I hadn't gotten a chance to do during the busy school year. One of the best things I did is purchase some "scrapbooking furniture" to organize the heap of crap that had been in the corner of the dining room. I'm pleased by this.

However, just because things are in drawers and out of the bags they were purchased in doesn't mean I'm organized yet. It's getting annoying, to put it mildly.

I straddle a lot of things when I scrapbook. Part of me wants to work on recent photos, but part of me wants to work from birth-o-Claire and move forward. I scrapbook photos from pre-baby, which are 8.5" x 11", but then I do those post baby, which are 12" x 12". I also occasionally do mini-books, which can be 6" x 6", like the ones I did for two friends who are moving this summer. Throw into the mix that I'm trying to learn how to digitally scrapbook, which is very fulfilling and exciting, and you understand the lack of focus and balance I have with this hobby that normally brings me so much joy and release.

This is simply because - I'm not up to date in my scrapbooking. I never will be.

I'm currently working on the second project in my digital scrapbooking "textbook" (as my husband calls it), which is an 8.5" x 11" book with a title page, dedication page, table of contents, and a few filler pages - all page schemes into which you can import your own photos, paper, and other designed embellishments.

I did the title and dedication pages, which are here. But now I realize, with these pages being 8.5" x 11", which is the size in which I scrapbook pre-baby photos, that I could do all my photos from that first trip to Big Sur in 2003. Great, right? No.

In going through the photos and deciding which to put in the scrapbook, I realized that there are other non-digital photos floating around the house somewhere. Yup. Thanks to this photo (aren't I smart to take it with my new first-ever digital camera?), I know there's an envelope from either a disposable camera or an old APS roll with photos from the trip. And I refuse to do the whole trip without knowing all the photos I'm working with.

A little controlling? Yes. Normal for a scrapbooker? Absolutely. So now I'm stuck until Claire wakes from her nap and I can get into the closet where the photos are stored and dig through for a roll that I hope will be labeled with something that will indicate Big Sur 2003. Or, will contain pictures that I recognize as Big Sur 2003 (which is truly unlikely).

Even then, if I find the photos, I'm going to kick myself if I put it off/wasted my time because I waited (I can't scrapbook this while she napping until I get into the closet, and once she wakes, I can't scrapbook because I need to be involved with her playtime) and there are no interesting photos in the bunch. AND, if I find the photos, it will create more work for me because I'll have to crop them to the basic mat in the scheme or get them digital so I can zoom and crop and reprint.

Pluto, I hardly knew thee...

2006-08-24T16:28:00.000-07:00

Another person I wish I wrote like:

I’ve long regarded Saturn’s misty tantalizing moon Titan as the Homecoming Queen of the solar system, courted and fawned over, stringing us along with teasing glimpses under her atmosphere, while Pluto was more like the chubby Goth chick who wrote weird poems about dead birds and never talked to anybody. Still, I just can’t stand by and watch as the solar system’s Fat Girl gets pushed down into ever-more ignominious substrata of social ostracism.

That's just an excerpt. Read the rest here.

Of course, Pluto is now officially not a planet anymore. All the teachers starting school this week and next will be creating major piles of garbage with their mobiles, posters, and 3-D spinning models of the solar system... or will they all quietly rebel, like so many teachers do? I know what I'd do. /me grins widely.

Wanting (Gil)more

2006-08-15T23:38:00.000-07:00

I have been a very devoted fan of The Gilmore Girls since the first season. I remember driving around town and looking at the billboards, thinking it was marketed perfectly and I was soooo going to watch. (The WB did this to me before with Felicity.)

I have watched episodes repeatedly to catch layers of meaning in the script, look at the backgrounds of the sets, and memorize quotes to repeat to some of my friends the next day. I even call Lynn when I miss an episode to get a play-by-play of what I missed, which Lynn does well, I think.

When the show goes into repeats every summer and during the holiday season, I have devotedly watched the episodes again - sometimes for the third time - because it has good writing and I like catching the references. Plus, the characters are dynamic, and the ensemble cast is full of people that I genuinely like.

However, season 6 is really... testing my devotion. Rory's stupidity, Lorelai's stubbornness, Luke's secrecy and dirty secret, Kirk's typical neuroses, Logan's idiocy and his family baggage, Emily and Richard's manipulations, the little flirtation with Jess, Christopher's bounce back into their lives... all reasons to dislike season 6. Frankly, the only thing I liked about the season was Lane's wedding storyline - man, was Mrs. Lane cool on her wedding day, or what? - if I don't count the reception. O-M-G!

I didn't see the season finale, so I've been taping the episodes on TiVo in the hopes of catching it before the new season comes through. I almost don't want to see it, though, since I know what happens and I don't want to see the scene with "the ultimatum." Plus, it's the last season and the typical writers are not involved, so... I'm not sure I'm on board beyond September 19th, but you never know about me.

Jane Somers

2006-08-02T19:19:00.000-07:00

I have just finished The Diary of a Good Neighbor by Jane Somers, which is actually Doris Lessing in disguise. The introduction explained that she wanted to write a book and test to see if new authors can make it easily, and also if anyone would recognize her writing. She said that, overall, many people did not recognize her writing, but the people who did were brought into the "secret."

For the most part, I liked the book, and if the style is anything like Doris Lessing's normal style, then I probably like her. It was tough to read, though, because the character was going through some tough stuff. Janna, who used to be assistant editor of a successful women's magazine, goes through this major maturation process. Prior to the book, she lost her mother and her husband to serious illnesses, and she doesn't really show she cares or engage in taking care of them. Instead, she goes about her business, continues preening herself meticulously, and doesn't make any effort to "go deeper."

Eventually, she meets a woman named Maudie at a drug store, follows her home, and becomes her last friend. Maudie is old and poor and sick, and Janna takes on some terrible things to be a good friend to Maudie, including going grocery shopping for her, getting her lighting repaired, buying her new clothes to replace the old dirty ones, and even washing her off after she has had an accident in her knickers. Maudie has been forgotten about by her family (she seems to be a family joke to them), and she doesn't appear sociable enough to go out on the typical church outings that other older women attend. Janna eventually cuts her work hours to almost nothing, she's so busy tending to Maudie in her last weeks and months, and the book ends very soon after Maudie's death. (I don't consider this a spoiler, since it seems from the beginning that that's how it will end.)

It's a tough book because I, like Janna, have had moments when I have been uncomfortable around the very aged, those that seem frail in their advanced years. My mom's mom was the only "old person" I've been really close to in any sense of the word, and I admit I thought of her as a burden for a long time. We used to grocery shop for her, drive her to doctor's appointments, and pick her up and return her from family outings. She was already frail by the time I was old enough to really notice her, so we were not engaged with each other, but I was too young to read the detective stories she did, play card games, or watch soaps with her. By the time I was, she had just seemed so unexciting to my budding social life that - frankly - I neglected her as much as Janna neglects her dying mother and husband. After grandma died, I tried to do some personal penance by volunteering at the nursing home she was in for a while, but it ultimately reminded me of the terrible time I took for granted when she was alive. I had to quit.

Now that I've read this book, I've been seeing older people on the street differently, much like Janna's transformation. I try to look them in the eye more, extend common courtesies more, and attempt to say more than "Hi" on the street. They're baby steps, I know, but I'm both nervous and impatient to do more. I would love to volunteer at a local nursing home, but I'm aware of how much is on my plate already and it's not just a convenient excuse.

My other concern is my daughter. When we went home recently, my daughter really recoiled at the presence of her grandparents and great-grandparents. She warmed up to those bearing gifts or of more mobility and energy quicker, which is to be expected. I'm so worried that she'll start taking her elders for granted, much like I did, and I want her to see the value of their lives, their experience, their energy and wisdom. How do you do that with a pre-schooler?

My conversational life in the summertime

2006-08-01T16:29:00.000-07:00

I really enjoy the discussions I have in my classroom with my students about opinions related to the text. I am challenged by the discussions I have with colleagues about pedagogy and those kids that make us determined to get through and teach. I am encouraged by the discussions I have with people in my mothers' groups and mothers' book club, since I continue to be doubtful that I can have it all.

However, I have to say that the conversations I have with my 2.5 yo daughter are the most fun and fulfilling of all those I have. The conversation I'm having right now, as I type:

Claire: I need to get into my bed.

Mommy: Why?

Claire: Because I don't want it to rain in my toybox. And I'm sleeping in there, so hopefully it won't rain.

Mommy: But there is no rain inside, and there's no rain outside. Why do you think it's going to rain in your toybox?

Claire: It's going to rain on my bed, cuz it's my toybox, because it does that on Dora.

Mommy: (thinking back to the episode Claire had just watched, entitled "The Big Storm") Oh, of course.

Claire: (after climbing into her toybox and lying down to get comfortable) Mommy? Can you close the window?

Mommy: Which window?

Claire: The red one, Mommy. Can you close the red window?

Mommy: Um, sure.

Claire: Mommy, my little brother and sister can't both fit in here and be comfy because there's not room for them. Only for my baby brother.

Mommy: Okay, only for your baby brother. Where your baby sister going to lay down?

Claire: She can sleep here (pointing to the shelf), and my brother will sleep in here with me. That's my plan, anyway. Okay? (not waiting for a response) Okay!

Mommy: Claire, what happens when Daddy starts putting toys in your toybox again?

Claire: I don't want him to. I just want to sleep in it.

Mommy: Claire, you have two beds in your room right now. You don't need to sleep in the toybox.

Claire: I don't want them in my room. I want to take away both beds. My baby sister and I will sleep in the toybox when you get a big tummy, and my baby brother will sleep on the shelf.

---

No, I'm not pregnant. At all. Not even trying, just finished my period yesterday. But, many of Claire's friends have new siblings or siblings on the way, including one who just got identical twin sisters, and she's decided I'm going to give her her own babies soon... one of each, to be exact.

But isn't this a fabulous conversation? She's creative and thoughtful and logical and her use of words is amazing. Cracks me up. And she also wants to know right now why I'm typing down what she says.

It is so hot!

2006-07-25T18:27:00.000-07:00

We've been experiencing some record-threatening days of heat in the Valley, lately. With my family living on the second and third floor of a condo not equipped with air conditioning, it will come as no surprise that we've been avoiding our house as much as possible. I've compiled a list of ways *I* know it's been hot.

I actually refill the water filter pitcher every time I use it.

My husband is concerned about the ice production rate of our freezer.

It takes 5-7 minutes for the water to cool off enough in the shower.

I've been taking at least one cold bath and one cold shower daily for a week.

You can't buy a fan anywhere.

I haven't felt like cooking.

Ice cream is back in the freezer, although I'd banished it last week because of my on-going weight loss goals.

A bowl of ice cream melts in the time it takes to fill up my bathtub.

I've been going to bed with a wet washcloth each night.

My wet washcloth is dry by 3am, and my pillow is soaked with sweat by 4.

The carseat has burned my daughter.

My clean bras air dry fresh from the hand wash cycle in less than 12 hours.

Wearing a wet bra straight from the washer sounds appealing.

My husband gets a reading of 99 degrees when he turns on the oral thermometer.... before he puts it in his mouth.

My daughter's rubber duckies that change color in hot water are the secondary color in the drawer, and change back to the primary color when going into the cold bathwater.

Princess of modifiers

2006-07-17T12:11:00.000-07:00

My daughter's very verbally gifted. I tell people it's because Mommy and Daddy are big talkers and we don't ever dumb down our speech for her.

Consequently, at 2 years and 7 months, Claire has been experimenting with the use of words like "eventually," "seriously," "generally," "obviously," "hopefully," "in order to," "because of," "therefore," and "sometimes." She uses them correctly about 75% of the time. Actual examples:

- "When the mooon comes down, I eventually go to bed."

- "Generally, I want strawberries for breakfast, but I want baby tomatoes this day."

- "Hopefully we go to the little zoo today, Daddy."

- "I have dry underwear today. Seriously!"

- "Sometimes I poop in my underwear, but obviously it's stinky."

(* I edited this post from the original one because people reminded me of other adult phrases she uses.)

... and mystery for all.

2006-07-17T09:24:00.000-07:00

There are mysteries for:

mommies (who work as part time PI's)

candlemakers

card-makers

scrapbookers

soapmakers

floral arrangers

candy-makers

several food-related mysteries

coffee house regulars

tea drinkers (so as not to be outdone)

Louisa May Alcott fans who think she's as good as a detective

fans of Jane Austen who think she's as good as a detective

fly-fishers in Yellowstone

National Park enthusiasts

Martha's Vineyard vacationers

When did mystery-reading (or mystery-writing) become so egalitarian? When did it become necessary to have a mystery about every single kind of hobby and locale there is? (I admit, I stopped searching for fear of finding something truly worrisome like, I don't know, the competitive hula-hooping mysteries series.) Isn't it enough to live through the detectives' eyes and enjoy a book, rather than need to further identify by recognizing your own hobby? Or learning a new one? Who was the first writer to delve into this wave of specialized mysteries?

The only mystery writers I know are the classics - Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Carol Higgins Clark, Raymond Chandler, Edgar Allen Poe, Carolyn Keene (heheh). Contemporary ones that I know about would be Tony Hillerman, Sue Grafton, Ed McBain, and Ellis Peters... hunh.

I wonder is this is Ellis Peters's fault. That specialized information about being a monk and the time period and all... I think it might be a stretch to blame scrapbooking mysteries on him, though.

Absolutely none

2006-07-15T22:39:00.000-07:00

I mentioned in an earlier post that I would describe my experiences with working out to FitTv's episodes. Goaded on by my advisor's post about Scottish dancing, I think it's time I admit my weaknesses here.

So, some background: I have loved dancing since I was little. It was a treat to see The Nutcracker at the Cleveland Ballet with my mom. I poured over the Girl Scout camp programs and community dance classes every semester to find some classes that could fit into my schedule. I always longed to take hip-hop dance (er, or the equivalent in the 80's and early 90's), and I practiced freestyle dancing in my basement for hours at a time to singers like Hall & Oates, Queen, ELO, and Casey Kasem's Top 40, which I taped on audio tape every Sunday morning. (I used those songs to practice dancing AND to make my primary crush at the time, Peter, a "message tape," which I will also write about one day.)

Eventually, I figured I was too old to take the classes offered at the community center, but I needed some kind of education. My friend Keri was somewhat helpful, but not enough. So, I watched the Janet Jackson and Paula Abdul videos enough to mimic them pretty authentically. That doesn't mean I watched MTV a lot (although I did, at the time), it means that I taped 6-hour stretches of the channel at a time in the hopes of catching one of the videos. My favorite was the video for "Rhythm Nation" by Janet Jackson, and I can still remember some of the moves, over 15 years later: left shoulder, right shoulder, right hip; right shoulder, left shoulder, left hip twice, etc.

Even now, at 30 years old, most types of music can make me move. I like getting up and dancing, although I'm aware that my sense of rhythm (my daughter calls it "ribbon") is slightly off. My only big outlet right now is Music Together class, though, which is another entry for another day.

So imagine my surprise when I realized this week that I am not a dancer! I mean, I am in a conventional, all-inclusive sort of way. But, not in a real, natural-born natural-learner sort of way. Frankly, it's difficult to accept.

I've been working out pretty steadily this summer, especially this month. I'm doing every weekday, and sometimes on the weekend, and mixing it up with different types of workout activities. I was realy pleased to notice that FitTV's new episodes of All-Star Work-Outs is all about dancing: bellydancing, Latin Afro-Beat, Bhangra Masala, Hip Hop Dance, etc. I thought, "Excellent. I'll get a good cardio workout, I'll maybe strengthen some muscles, and I'll learn some dance moves in time for Baby Loves Disco next month. This exercise thing is great!"

Hunh. How disappointing.

I mean, the moves are good, and the cardio challenge is pretty average. But I can't keep up with the instructors! They breakdown the steps so well, and they repeat them three or four times before adding something else, and I just know that I should get it. I pride myself on being able to pick things up pretty well; Janet Jackson wasn't a big challenge in 1990.

I'm beginning to think that I've been learning things in a sedimentary way for so long (reading, listening to lectures, taking notes, writing) that I can't pick up kinesthetic "knowledge" quickly anymore, and it's really frustrating. I've now tried all of the above dance workouts, a Tae Bo beginner's video, a step aerobics class at my gym... they were all utter failures. In most of the instances, I was doing the "neutral" step or marching in place at least a third of the time for lack of foot-brain coordination. I haven't tried anymore of the high energy All-Star Workout episodes and I'm not really interested in seeing Billy again for Tae-Bo embarrassment. I missed the step class last Tuesday, and I had an ankle/knee injury Wednesday evening which prevented me from going Thursday morning.

But Jonathan and my husband have reminded me that having fun is the key to mastering this kind of thing. I need to relax and enjoy it. Plus, mastery of the routines shouldn't come to me right away, and I'm going to need to practice over and over again. I'm not interested in practicing - instant success is so much more encouraging according to my lazy-ass brain - but I know I should if I am going to feel like I'm challenging myself and accomplishing something. I'm going to try the step class again, I'll get the Tae-Bo video again, and I may even catch reruns of the dance routines on FitTV and keep them around to try over and over again.

It seems silly that I should have to relearn the "practice makes perfect" adage in my life at 30, and in every single aspect of my life, but it's a good mantra to have, even when I'm lagging behind in the Power Yoga sessions.

IBList

2006-07-13T10:57:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry, I've been busy lately. Mostly, when I'm online, I've been either replying to email or browsing this guy. I'm loving getting lost in it.

Fifth Business

2006-07-11T14:45:00.000-07:00

When I was in college, my husband and I were big fans of a non-defunct band called Moxy Fruvous. They have a song called "My Baby Loves a Bunch of Authors." Since I was an English major at the time, it seemed like a cute song for my then-boyfriend to adopt as "my song," and I didn't refute it much, although I didn't know the work of most of the authors mentioned in the original version. (There was an alternate live version.)

For my birthday one year, my husband got me a book from one of each of the authors mentioned in the original version of the song, and wrapped the books with theme-appropriate wrapping paper. His best friend helped him scour the used bookstores in Ann Arbor for weeks, reportedly, and I thought the results was simply adorable and romantic and spoke of great loving effort on his part.

Although it was a totally cool gift, it was a bit illogical for me at the time. I had a ton of reading for my classes, and I had no time to read them. Once I did try to read some, I had mixed success with them. I couldn't get into William S. Burroughs and Pierre Burton, I didn't think much of poet bell hooks, and I'd already read the Gabriel Garcia Marquez book he'd given me. Although I own three of her books, I've never read anything from Doris Lessing (I think donnagirl is ashamed of that in a friend). I couldn't get into the movie The English Patient, so I've been loathe to try to book, although history has taught me repeatedly that the book is so much better.

On the other hand, I enjoyed reading The Godfather, the original book, and learned to love baseball and its emotion by reading W. P. Kinsella's Shoeless Joe, much better than the movie it was based on. I've since gone on to read several other Kinsella books and greatly enjoyed them. And Margaret Atwood was already a friend of mine by this time (The Handmaid's Tale was on my AP World Lit summer reading list, and I searched out more of her books the summer before college started).

Today, I finished the last of the authors - Robertson Davies. Joe bought me a book of his called The Fifth Business. It began slow, I was willing to give up on it around page 35, I was willing to finish it by page 50, and I was hooked by 100 or so. It's the first in a trilogy, and even when I was hooked, I didn't think I'd want to continue the series, especially since reviews of it say it stands alone just fine, but I've finished the book now, and I want to find the other ones. The basic idea of this one: a cripple from World War 1 is strapped with absurd responsibilities and ultimitely gets involved in a magic show of an unusual kind. Some quotes that made me think:

"This is one of the cruelties of the theater of life; we all think of ourselves as stars and rarely recognize it when we are indeed mere supporting characters or even supernumeraries."

"I was afraid and did not know what I feared, which is the worst kind of fear."

"If a boy can't have a good teacher, give him a psychological cripple or an exotic failure to cope with; don't just give him a bad, dull teacher. This is where the private schools score over state-run schools; they can accommodate a few cultured madmen on the staff without having to offer explanations."

"'My own idea is that when He comes again it will be to continue his ministry as an old man. I am an old man and my life has been spent as a soldier of Christ, and I tell you that the older I grow the less Christ's teaching says to me. I am sometimes very conscious that I am following the path of a leader who died when He was less than half as old as I am now. I see and feel things He never saw and felt. I know things He seems never to have known. Everybody wants a Christ for himself and those who think like him. Very well, am I at fault for wanting a Christ who will show me how to be an old man? All Christ's teaching is put forward with the dogmatism, the certainty, and the strength of youth: I need something that takes account of the accretion of experience, the sense of paradox, and the ambiguity that comes with years! I think after forty we sould recognize Christ polityly but turn for our comfort and guidance to God the Father, who knows the good and evil of life, and to the Holy Ghost, who possesses wisdom beyond that of the incarnated Christ.'"

"'Who are you? Where do you fit into poetry and myth? Do you know who I think you are, Ramsay? I think you are Fifth Business. You don't know what that is? Well, in opera in a permanent company... you must have a prima donna - always a soprano, always the heroine, often a fool; and a tenor who always plays the lover to her; and then you must have a contralto, who is rival to the soprano, or a sorceress or something; and a basso, who is the villian or the rival or whatever threatens the tenor. So far, so good. But you cannot make a plot work without another man, and he is usually a baritone, and he is called in the profession Fifth Business, because he is the odd man out, the person who has no opposite of the other sex. And you must have Fifth Business because he is the one who knows the secret of the hero's birth, or comes to the assistance of the heroine when she thinks all is lost, or keeps the hermitess in her cell, or may even be the cause of somebody's death if that is part of the plot. The prima donna and the tenor, the contralto and the basso, get all the best music and do all the spectacular things, but you cannot manage a plot without Fifth Business! It is not spectacular, but it is a good line of work, I can tell you, and those who play it sometimes have a career that outlasts the golden voices. Are you Fifth Business? You had better find out.'"

Too bad my book club voted on a series of "beach reads" this month and I have to read this one right now...

Movies

2006-07-06T23:02:00.000-07:00

I know, it's an uninspired title. So what?

My husband and I have been quite good lately about watching our Netflix movies. I got a subscription for 3 at a time in 2002 or so, and then allowed him to have one of those 3 at a time about 6 months ago. He's been particularly good about getting his back in a timely fashion, assuming I don't also want to watch the movie. But I've been terrible in the past, going as long as 4 months with the same movie un-watched and un-returned.

But in the last few weeks, with more vacation time than usual, less plans than usual, and less new television on to watch... well, we've been more attentive. We've seen some good stuff, too: Capote, Grave of the Fireflies, The Rat Pack, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Duma.

Over the holiday weekend, we had no movies, since we'd watched them all and sent them back. Which was fine.

It was kind of cool to get three movies in the mail today, too.

After bedtime tonight, I sat down to watch one of mine: Storytelling. Let me begin by saying that the description made it seem, well, promising.

Maybe it was that I watched the "unrated" version instead of the R-rated one, but, really, there was no promise. The "fiction" storyline was offensive, disgusting, awkward, and sadly predictable. The novelty of having a cerebral-palsy character was nice and unexpected, but seemed to have little to do with the storyline, if I understood it correctly. I feel like I could watch it again and maybe get something more meaningful from it, but I don't want to watch it again ever. The "nonfiction" storyline was okay at first, but it just got more absurd the more we got into the movie, and - spoiler here - the housekeeper blowing up the house and its occupants was way, way out there. Hell, even I was annoyed by the 5th grader, and I was totally bored by the main character, "Scooby." I'd have to take a toke or two in order to watch him again, much like he had to in order to let the guy that had a crush on him go down on him. While I know that description was very American Pie sounding, this part of the movie is not, so don't bother rushing out there.

Joe watched the first 5 minutes of the movie, grabbed his movie, and went upstairs with his laptop and headphones to watch it. His movie was Doom. When he first learned of the existance of such a movie, he was ecstatic, because he found out from his college hallmate, also the writer of the script, Dave Callaham. (I once proof-read Dave's English essays. Heehee.) But then Dave continued to email Joe about issues with his original script, which Joe said was quite good, and how the Hollywood people cut the best-written parts, wanted to put in a love interest, changed things from the idea of the game, etc. Joe didn't have high hopes for the movie, based on Dave's comments and what we saw on Ebert & Roper.

After my movie, which was thankfully shorter, I came upstairs to use the computer and rate it on Netflix. Joe asked, "How was the movie?"

My reply: "The worst movie I've seen in years."

Joe laughed. "You haven't seen Doom yet."

Poor Dave, poor Joe and I... we'll need to be careful with our queues in the future.

The worst part about this is that my queue has 368 movies in it. And I'm looking at all of them, wondering if they're going to be as big a waste of time as Storytelling was. I don't trust any of them. And after some of the heavy movies I've been watching, I'm looking for an intellectual but entertaining comedy. Is there such a thing that I haven't seen?

Btw, the third movie that arrived today? An oldie but a goodie. I'm hoping to torture Joe with it. I imagine it'll be going back soon, too; it's only 45 minutes' worth of torture at best.

Avoidance tactics

2006-07-05T16:40:00.000-07:00

My daughter has a deal with us that, if she stays dry and clean in underwear all day, she can pick a prize out of the laundry basket o' prizes. At the beginning of this agreement, we went to several stores and picked out things to put there - pretty underwear, toys, crafty things, books. If she has an accident, she immediately gets changed into diapers and we try again tomorrow.

My daughter understands this process well, since we've been doing it for about 4 weeks now. Today, I picked her up from preschool before naptime so she could nap at home. They didn't know we were changing that for July, so they put her in diapers for naptime (which I'm okay with) with underwear over them (which I don't understand, but will go along with).

After her naptime, I put her on the potty to get her to pee and to get her out of her diaper and into her underwear again. Upon pulling down her underwear, it looks like she'd pooped a very small amount in there. I questioned her about it.

Me: Claire, did you poop in your underwear at school?

Claire: No.

Me: Why is there poop in your underwear then?

Claire: It happened at school with Ms. Selena.

Me: What happened at school?

Claire: (tilts head to one side and the other, as if thinking.) I'll tell you later.

Me: (with mouth falling open) No, tell me now.

Claire: At school, somethin' happened, and I went poop in the potty! Yay! I got a sticker, but I wiped myself with three, two paper towels and pulled up my underwear. Ms. Selena helped me clean it up, so I didn't poop in my underwear, I pooped in the potty. Can I have a prize now?

Isn't she a hoot?

Prodigal daughter

2006-07-05T15:45:00.001-07:00

So, after a few weeks off from blogging - in which I was constantly thinking of ideas away from the computer and then not remembering next to the computer - I'm back for a while.

Hopefully, this will be more consistent throughout the summer, but that all depends on the "geniuses" at the Apple Store who fixed my laptop's problem but gave me a new one. Now, my Mac laptop crashes two to three times daily (I haven't had that problem since I was on a Windows box!), and it's pissing me off! The server is conntected to a slow DSL connection, so it can't download the updates, and appears to be slightly less reliable, too. Since my hubby takes his laptop to and from work, I have little work on during the day. Pbbt.

So, I set a few goals at the beginning of the summer of what I was going to do with all my "free time." I didn't expect to accomplish all of them but, like NCLB, it's good to have something to shoot for. Let's see how I'm doing:

1) Workout/exercise more. True. During the weekdays when hubby and daughter are gone in the mornings, I have been working out. I rode my bike one day, went to the gym a few times, tried out the workouts on Fit TV (more on that in another entry). I'm doing okay, and it's way more exercise than I get during the school year. I'm hoping to make it a habit, and then keep up the habit coming September. We'll see.

2) Watch my diet. Both true and false. I've been eating healthier planned meals and snacks, still getting an early breakfast and a decent lunch. However, I'm still eating big meals at night instead of the morning. I also have a ton of crap in the house, and I tend to hunt that out around 2pm an 9 or 10pm daily. I need to stop doing that.

3) Get rid of the clutter around the house. Developing. I spent three solid days going through old magazines and filing/organizing the stuff I wanted to keep. I ultimately turned out recycling 3 years of Cooking Light, 4-5 years of Memory Makers and similar scrapbooking magazines, and 2 years of California Educator and the NEA one I always forget. I still have some English Journal and Educational Leadership to go through, but there's a light at the end of that tunnel. I did go through my hanging clothes and jackets and identified things I wanted to get rid of. However, the clothes are hanging over my sink now, not in a bag on their way to Goodwill or the like. I went through some of the kid's toys and pitched some, but I have a lot to go through still. (And, ironically, she's expressed an interest in getting rid of some "so I don't have to clean up so much every day." Clever kid.)

4) Put my extensive Alice's Adventures in Wonderland collection on eBay or otherwise get rid of most of it. Not even attempted yet.

5) Read educational texts in preparation for next year. Developing. I just finished Classroom Management That Works and I believe I'm going to make a flip book for myself of key ideas when I'm feeling uncool in class. I also need to begin to make plans for starting off the school year, but those ideas are already floating around in my head.

6) Lesson plan the entire year. Nixed. After talking to friends and colleagues, I decided that was ludicrous. Without meeting my children, I don't know what I need to cover (the basics) in order to address the standards. However, thanks to the McDougal-Littel workshop I went to, I at least know of some tools to use to do that once I pre-assess my students. I also want to establish some goals per semester (i.e. which standards will I majorly focus on 1st semester? what steps do I have to take to get there? which learning strategies will I use most 1st semester?), but that's still floating around in my head, too.

7) Tackle the concept of literature circles. Nada. I need to get to that, but the more I think of all of the above, the less I think it's likely, at least in July. One of my department chairs says she'll be able to help if I set up some time, so that's on me to do in the next week or two.

8) Get home to the Midwest for a trip. In the future. We've booked the tickets, and we might even see Joe's best friend's family, which is an extra bonus.

9) Scrapbook my wedding photos from 6 years ago. Not much. Honestly, I've barely touched them. My wedding photographer refuses to allow me to touch the negatives, and she doesn't appear to be willing to turn them over to a developer friend to scan, even for a price. However, she has given me permission to scan the photos and doctor and reprint them, so I guess that's what I have to do. With the beautiful "I Do" collection from Jolee's out right now, and a local scrapboo k ing store fully stocked with the entire line, I want it to happen this summer, but I have only taken the typical one night per week to do any scrapbooking, and that is not yielding a wedding scrapbook any time soon.

10) Take a family photo. Done. We took some with Susan at Castle Rock, and they're beautiful. I couldn't be more pleased.

11) Spend more time with my daughter. On-going. She and I have been having fun making food in the kitchen, playing in the park, taking field trips, and generally discovering each other. It's nice to know that I just have her to "deal with," (and not meetings and lesson plans and errant students and the like) because it calms me down. I can't believe how busy a SAHM can be, though, with chores and appointments and organizing AND taking care of the kiddie. Man!

Biography

2006-06-13T21:45:00.000-07:00

"Reading the latest biography
Hoping that it might be someone like me
Just to find me a way out of my head..."
-- Jump Little Children, "Quiet"

I'm a people person. Always have been, always will be. But I'm better with people one-on-one or in small groups. I excel in retail. I'm good in small training sessions or classrooms. Playdates of 6 or less is fab. I dislike crowds.

People are the key to my learning too. If I have a good teacher, I'll do well. If my classmates are interesting people who also want to learn, I'll be motivated to work with them.

Here's the trick, though. I don't learn most subjects well unless there's a personal connection... to any person. I nearly failed my "general overview" econ class in high school. In college, a primary text was New Ideas from Dead Economists, a book that helped me like and understand econ better. Tell it to me from the economists point of view (not the market's point of view), and I'll get it much better.

I used to fall asleep in physics and bio and many of the history survey classes in high school and college. But for those lessons or units or courses that covered material in a more one-on-one (me-to-historical figure), it made things much more enjoyable. I still remember my 7th grade history teacher's retelling of Lincoln's assassination from Booth's point of view. Poor Dr. Mud.

Oddly enough, I never enjoyed biographies, though. When I was assigned a biography book report in elementary school or junior high, I read one of two people's lives: Helen Keller or Marie Curie. That's it. Three solid years of Helen Keller, then three solid years of Marie Curie. They were comfortable, old friends. But aside from that, I didn't read biographies in my spare time... much. I think I tried to read Hans Christian Anderson's autobiography once, but I kept falling asleep. I read Maya Angelou's series of books, but only because my mom praised them.

Interestingly enough, though, I've been keeping a list of people whose biographies (or memoirs) I'd like to read when I'm ready for that plunge. There's Juliette Low, JFK, Anne Bradstreet, Maria Montessori, Anderson Cooper, Joyce Dyer, Buck O'Neill, Bob Dylan, Cary Grant, Voltaire, Tupac, Che Guevara, L.M. Montgomery, Malcolm X, Nikola Tesla... and a thousand other people. I was watching the 1998 version of The Rat Pack and I'd have to add most of those people to my list.

In the workshop I'm taking this week, which will hopefully teach me to use my anthology and all of its ancillary materials correctly, a teacher from another school in the district said something interesting. He said that "biographies are the great levelers in the classroom." Students read who they want to read, so they're motivated to do so, no matter how hard the book is. Plus, the most famous of people - from Lincoln to Shaq - have dozens of biographies out about them, which means each book is a different reading level, too.

I've shied away from biographies personally, and somewhat in my curriculum too, because of my personal discomfort. But Josh's comment made a ton of sense to me. Yeah, biographies have a way of appealing to readers in ways that narratives, however well-written, cannot. I, of all people, should know this.

I wonder...

2006-06-13T21:39:00.000-07:00

... should I be teaching English or math? I've often wondered, especially now that there are 3 spots open in the math department due to retirements this year.

You Passed 8th Grade Math

Congratulations, you got 10/10 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Math?

My problem is, I'm good up until Algebra 1. With a little work, I would be good with Geometry, but Algebra 2 is beyond me. O'ell.

Never as bad as it seems

2006-06-07T03:21:00.000-07:00

I've been putting off grading some writing assignments and a writing test from a few months ago. I just finished one period's tests, both of them. You know, it's never as bad as it seems when you finally do it... or maybe it's just the Coke, chocolate milk, marshmallows, and Goldfish crackers talking.

Btw, if you decide to listen to your iPod in alphabetical order by artists (I didn't, it just started to play it that way and I didn't argue with it), make sure Arlo Guthrie is off the iPod first. Man, it takes forever to get though his songs... "Gabriel's Mother's Hiway Ballad #16 Blues" is not something I want to listen to at 3am and neither is the 18-minute "Alice's Restaurant Massacree." It seems the only time I want to hear "Alice's Restaurant" is on Thanksgiving; I believe WMJI ruined me. Thanks, Mom.

One more late night of grading and then I'm done. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. A crush of mine in college used to wear a t-shirt that said that light is an on-coming train. I miss that shirt.

Jinxin' it

2006-06-06T19:16:00.000-07:00

I typed the below section yesterday morning, after staying up until 4am grading papers. I typed the entry... and then forgot to post it. =) At least my sleepiness took form that way, and not while I was driving...

---

6/5/06
I've gotten through 3 of my four classes today with only 2 hours of sleep last night. The good news: I got everything done that needed to be done this morning, and I did an itsy-bitsy amount of work that should have been done.

Not bad, if I do say so myself. However, I'm well-aware that my daughter's not going to her playdate this afternoon.

---

6/6/06 again

She did not go to her playdate, but only because I was in a meeting until 4, and then worked on the final I gave today afterwards. I went to bed at 9pm last night and slept right through.

Lies, all lies!

2006-06-05T21:09:00.000-07:00

While reading The Carnival today, I found out that I am still acting older than I am. You can imagine, as a teen sitting on the Board of Directors at her local Red Cross Chapter and co-chairing the Volunteer Services Committee (er, co-chairing with a paid staff member), I would be called mature fairly often. That's why I got the babysitting jobs and rarely hung around the "cool" people who drank on the weekends. And if I did, it was to play jokes on their drunk asses and/or hold their hair... you know the drill.

But I'm 30 in reality. My quiz age? /me sighs.

You Are 32 Years Old

30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!

What Age Do You Act?

Appropos music

2006-06-05T02:35:00.000-07:00

I've been listening to my iPod while I've been grading papers this evening/morning. A sampling of what's come up:

1) You Reach Me - Blues Traveler
--- Had never heard it until my "student project" for the year got arrested for gang involvement. I cried all the way home. Turns out it's got some lines begging to be connected to The Odyssey. Hunh.

2) Ahead of the Curve - Jim's Big Ego
--- Song cracks me up. It also has a quick beat, which helps me get working. funny, there hasn't been an update to the song, that I know of, which includes use of the iPod.

3) Irish Dream - Eddie from Ohio
---- Man, if only I was dreaming. I'm, like, 1/25th Irish, but I'd take any kind of dream right now.

4) Bella Luna - Jason Mraz
--- Sigh. It's just you and me awake right now, Luna.

5) U Can Look - Jump Little Children
--- Much more sexual than "Ahead of the Curve," but also a good beat to get working to.

6) Wrap Your Arms Around Me - BNL [Did you know they had a blog?]
--- Not what Joe's doing right now. Grrr.

7) The Remedy - Jason Mraz
--- "I won't worry my life away." It about says it all at this, the 11th hour, eh? It also always reminds me of Hamlet and 9/11. [Btw, I only have 2 Jason Mraz albums and over 3,000 songs on this thing. I don't know how 2 of his came up in 19 songs. I'm not complaining.]

Course, I'm 5 collections of papers from the end, and I have 4 sets to input. It is now that mygradebook.com chooses not to resolve. Ah, well. I can stay up; I used to all the time to hear the currently-playing song, Moxy Fruvous's "The Drinking Song", live. Still remember all the motions, too.

The expensive date he knew I was

2006-06-04T14:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my husband and I went out to celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary. We got super-dressed up, which never happens, and had a great time!

Strangely, both of our parents sent us money for our anniversary, which was not at all expected. So we decided to spend it. I made reservations at La Foret, a place I had heard a ton about from acquaintances. We turned out leaving late, since the babysitter showed late, but it turned out not being a big deal.

Joe ordered the special of the day, grilled buffalo. Since he wanted a taste, and I barely eat beef because of Joe's cautious diet, well... I ordered the kobe beef. Joe made fun of me when I told the waiter I wanted it cooked medium-well, my normal choice for beef. Evidentally, cooking it more than medium is not a good idea. Oh, okay.

We had a good time at dinner, too. Unlike our first anniversary out without Claire, during which we talked about her non-stop, Claire barely came up during dinner last night. We talked abut our hobbies, which we are not involved in with each other. We talked about our friends and our jobs, and it was nice. I found myself laughing in conversation with him more than I have in a long time; we're nearly always with the kid when we're talking. After she goes to bed, I go to work or bed to read, he goes to work or plays video games.

It was nice for a change. Joe even talked about trying something on the menu "next time," which is unexpected.

Now watch him run from you, run from you...

2006-06-02T14:47:00.000-07:00

You know I'm trying to get crap done when JLC is playing. The Licorice Tea Demos is so upbeat, yet calming too.

You also know that I'm trying to get crap done when my desk is clear. =) Interesting how I always can't stand the clutter on my desk when there is grading to do. Hunh. So, here I am with a clear desk, JLC on, and typing out a blog entry. Man, this dashboard thing is awesome...ly convenient.

Back to grading. I need to be out of here by 4:15, at the latest.

Nothing's changed but the date.

2006-06-02T01:14:00.000-07:00

It's 1am my time, now. I've finished grading 4 projects, printed a ton of photos for my a href="http://www.picturepassion.com">scrapbooking outing tomorrow, browsed the internet for over an hour, drunk two cups of cocoa and one cup of water, and checked on my sleeping family twice.

To do tonight:
- write my English 1 final
- write a review sheet for my reading students
- grade 60 school writing assessments
- check 40 notebooks

All these should be done by tomorrow... uh, today. Oops. Anyone taking odds that I'll get it all done before we leave for school at 7:15? I'm thinking... eh, 1,000 to 1? 10,000 to 1?

At least the TV isn't on... but it may be soon. Well-loved but well-known movies tend to be good to work to, like She's All That or Little Mermaid. M*A*S*H reruns are good for that, too.

This is my first serious late-nighter since... last fall sometime, maybe. Part of me is revved up to jump right in and get work done. "Yes, I can stay up! I've done this a ton! I've got coffee, cocoa, even a little chocolate in the form of baking M&M's. No problem! 4am, here I come!" Another part is thinking, "WTF? The world will not fall apart if I grade some notebooks during rehearsal tomorrow. The final will get written sometime, even if it's over the weekend and I personally pay to copy it commercially. Go to sleep now, or you won't be able to stay awake for the biggest turnout for a scrapbooking night EVER." The other part is standing outside of me and shaking my head at me typing this entry right now. Uh oh, I think she knows... g2g.

Loch Ness Monster

2006-06-01T20:53:00.000-07:00

I'm swamped. So swamped. I am literally grading papers from 2+ months ago. Plus, a writing test from January, one from April, and one from May. I'm embarrassed and such a slacker.

On the other hand, I'm stoked because I figured out a way to get around the grading-finals rush. My English 1 students will be taking their final on Monday, the last day of classes, instead of Wednesday or Thursday, which is finals. During our 2-hour block of finals, instead, I'll be with them in our courtroom (yes, we literally have a courtroom on campus, thanks to the legal studies academy), reinacting the courtroom scene from To Kill a Mockingbird. My kids self-selected parts (except for the kids that were sick that day... hehe. One girl told the office she was "sick," when she was really in PA for a hockey tourney. Too bad... she's Bob Ewell), and they're totally excited about it. We've been reading through in class, and they're going down to the courtroom tomorrow to walk through their parts before the final on Monday and the performance later in the week.

I told them after they were done performing and I was done taping them, we could go back to my classroom and we could watch it. What I haven't told them is that I'm hoping to make some Southern recipes I got from my relatives (Banana Pudding, anyone?) to accompany the viewing.

One kid asked if they were going to be graded on their performances. Hunh. Well, as a matter of fact, you will! How cool is that? Tape the scene, and then watch it back with the kids and grade as I go, handing back the rubrics on the SAME DAY! Brilliant!

--

Btw, now that I'm running Mac OS 10.4, I can run a dashboard, and it has a widget for posting on Blogger. I love this! That's why you get a a post every day now!

--

And, how funny and adorable is Jason Mraz to a geeky English teacher like me?

My daughter, Amelia Bedelia

2006-05-31T19:14:00.000-07:00

I told Claire that she would be 2.5 tomorrow. She said, and I quote, "I no want somebody to cut me. Ouch!" Clever, but... such a funny misunderstanding.

Hockey Hockey Hockey Hockey

2006-05-29T22:54:00.000-07:00

Today, my daughter and I sang "Hockey, Hockey, Little Star" and "Hockey Had a Little Lamb."

When I told her she was cute, she said, "Yeah, I already know that, Mommy."

And when she was running back and forth between two platforms that bluegill fish were congregating around, she told me, running from one, "I'll be right back in one minute, Mommy," complete with index finger pointing up in the air.

She's also begun lying to me, and her crankiness has begun earlier - say, at 6:30, for the last week.

Sometimes, I'm torn between wanting to stay home with my kid full-time... and being impatient to take her back to pre-school.

Useful health class? No...

2006-05-28T11:47:00.000-07:00

I went to my Health class for certification two Saturdays, one in April and one in May of this year. People had told me that it was a waste of time, that it was useless, but that won't do anything. One student teacher last year said she was taking the semester-long one and she felt it was worthwhile.

I felt like I wanted to test out of it.

But, I went. The teacher had been teaching the same class for 15 years, and it shows. And not in a bad way. She had been a nurse, but then went back to get her certification to teach bio in high school. She was very knowledgable, and I was pleased that she kept information up to date in the curriculum.

We had little to do as far as coursework, too. One assignment was to pick a few issues facing kids today and find resources in the community that they could use. I picked issues like peer pressure and self-esteem, and one of the resources I found may be coming to my school next year to speak to the frosh. I picked issues like domestic violence and rape, and my students looked for similar resources for their homework assignment last week.

But here's the shocker: I wrote a lesson plan for the class, the goal of which was to work within my subject area to incorporate health issues, and I actually used the lesson plan last week! Not only did I use it, but the kids were engaged and listening and responsive. Since we were about to read Mayella Ewell's testimony in To Kill a Mockingbird, I spent the period with the students brainstorming definitions of "abuse" and "rape," using strategies like think-write-pair-shares and such. I was pleased as punch, since I had no idea what I was going to do with them during my drive to school that morning. I expect I'll use the lesson again next year, which is an even bigger shocker!

Just goes to show you... if you actually plan something, the lesson works better than if you don't. [grin] Who knew?

In which I mention Mrs. Sheridan, HyperCard, and the Cleveland Free-net

2006-05-28T09:22:00.000-07:00

Dana started me thinking about teacher appreciation. Miss Hazel Haley is truly amazing... and reminds me a lot of my AP English teacher, Ms. Sheridan.

I didn't take many AP classes in high school, since the point of them was very unclear to me. In my high school, which was completely college prep, people took AP classes for a higher level of challenge beyond the mainstream classes at the same level, not to take a test. I know many of my classmates that did take the AP French and AP English tests, and even scored well and went on to get college credit, but I never sat for either one of the tests. Don't know why.

However, in a sea of Engilsh teachers that made an impression on me -- Miss Wackoviak (2nd grade), who became Mrs. Duffy (5th grade); Mrs. Petric (who I hated); Miss Coughlin; Ms. Novac; Ms. Bloom -- Mrs. Sheridan seemed to be the one that understood me the most.

Our final project my senior year was to research a form of poetry that was assigned to us as pairs. We had to research it and then make some kind of muti-media presentation. My partner, a not-close-friend-but-not-enemy Jessica, and I were assigned haiku. How cool is that? (I've often thought about making the same assignment to my freshmen, but I think I would be disappointed by the results, despite the obvious age difference when they'd get it and when I got it.)

I thought it'd be a walk in the park. A couple of three-line poems, a little historical background, and I'd be set. Jessica and I opted to present in a "hyper" presentation - we spent hours learning and then working with HyperCard on the Macs in Mrs. Sheridan's room during lunch and after school. Learning HyperCard was only the beginning.

As was my M.O. at the time when I had a research project to do, I took out a dozen books about haikus at the library and then shortly sifted through them. Haikus are... like, deep, man. So few words, but so many thoughts, meanings, implications. After years of learning about haikus from teachers (afterall, it's poetry and it takes no more than a day to teach), I learned about Basho for the first time. I also learned about Buson and Kyoshi and Issa then. How can you teach haiku at all, even in 4th or 5th grade, without teaching Basho's haiku?

In any case, Jessica and I did our presentation to the class. We were the only students in both sections of AP World Lit that used HyperCard. I was sorta pleased about that. (But then, I'd already had an email account and had been frequently FTPing and posting on BBSes for 2 years... and it was 1994. Yay, Cleveland Free-net!)

Mrs. Sheridan asked for a copy of the presentation to keep for posterity. I told her she could keep my copy, but she insisted I keep one.

Me: I hate HyperCard and I hope I never use anything like it ever again.
Mrs. Sheridan: Debbie, this isn't the first time you'll use something like this. If you turn out giving speeches, teaching, training, or go on to higher education, you'll need to use HyperCard or something like it to be successful. Just watch.
Me: Mrs. Sheridan, if you're right, I'll come back and take you out to dinner.
Mrs. Sheridan: I'll take that bet. See you in a few years.

That was 1994. I didn't use HyperCard anymore, but PowerPoint has certainly been something of a looming influence in my teaching. If I had an LCD projector of my own, I'd be leaning on it 4-6 times per 6-week grading period, I imagine.

Inspired by Dana's post about what she wants to do next year (more on that later from me, too...) and Todd's post about how I'd pull technology into the classroom more, I'm setting a goal for myself next year. I'm working on several style-sheets that include information on what I expect from a typed document and how to do basic things. I'd also like to tackle a little use of web searches and evaluation of them and using PowerPoint. Anyone got some good resources they want to share?

I wish I wrote this

2006-05-19T11:56:00.000-07:00

I am tired of some of the same things.

Read this.

I'm an easy Guitar Hero

2006-05-16T15:42:00.000-07:00

My husband got his bonus last weekend. While we put a lot back in the bank, I told Joe he should indulge himself with something to treat himself. After all, I go scrapbooking most weekends, and he normally stays home and does nothing interesting.

So, he stopped at Fry's and got a game for the PS2 called Guitar Heroes. It comes with its own controller... a guitar with buttons for frets and a lever for the strum. Basically, you play the chords and individual notes from the guitar rockin' songs of the past, songs from Jimi Hendrix, Cream, White Zombie, Motorhead, Queen, Joan Jett, the Ramones, Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Donnas, etc.

Joe rationalized the purchase because Claire and I would both enjoy playing it. He was right. I believe Joe played the tutorial before Claire came sauntering over, wanting to try. (She'd evidentally tried at Fry's at their game station.) She'd already gotten hooked on "I Wanna Be Sedated," which Joe had played in the store, so that's the song she picked.

We all took turns playing the game this past weekend. We took lots of pictures, some of which I'll post. Claire kept on coming back to "I Wanna Be Sedated," though, because I think she likes the "ba ba ba-ba, ba-ba ba ba-ba..." part.

My daughter gets songs stuck in her head about as often as Joe and I do. Frequently, she'll start mumbling song lyrics while we're driving in the car with the radio off or while I'm pushing her in the grocery cart. Most of the time, it's a song I know: "ABC," "Mary Had a Little Lamb," "The Wheels on the Bus." Sometimes it's a song she learned at school, which I then ask about at school the next day. The other night, at dinner, she complained about having Justin Roberts's "Yellow Bus" stuck in her head and asked how she could get it out. (Click here if you want to download a little snippet of the song in .m3u format.)

Joe and I were uncontrollably laughing Sunday evening, at her latest earworm. She was playing in the corner of the family room by her toybox, stringing big wooden beads on a red and white cord. Joe and I heard her singing, but it was too quiet to figure out the song yet. She was tilting her head from one side to the other though, and eventually raised her volume. In a sing-songy voice, we realized she was singing, and I quote, "I wanna be sedated, sedated, sedated, sedated, sedated..." in perfect English and devoid of lisps or other toddler speech impediments.

I am constantly in awe of the little person she is becoming... and how easy it would be to screw her up (or make her super-cool) unintentionally.

RIP, Mr. Kunitz

2006-05-16T15:38:00.000-07:00

I found "Layers" a few years back, shortly after I moved away from all of my family and most of my friends, two thousand miles across the country. It was an unexpected affirmation that I'd made a good decision.

He gave me peace, so I can only hope he's found some himself.

In-doc-trin-a-tion

2006-05-01T19:51:00.000-07:00

My husband loves this time of year because basketball and hockey are both in play-offs and baseball has started. He's so pleased for about a month, sometimes a little more if his basketball or hockey teams get far.

We were at the dinner table with the Detroit Wings (his team) playing Edmonton Oilers in the background. He was frustrated with the latest score of the Oilers, and Claire asked what's wrong. Joe replied, "Daddy's team is not doing well and the game is almost over."

Claire, being the dear that she is, wanted to cheer Daddy up. So, she started singing, "Hail to the Victors." Joe was so surprised and touched by the sentiment, that I'm not sure he made it clear that the song and the team don't match.

Sigh. I'd try to counter it, but I honestly don't know my college's fight song, which is apparently new - but I didn't know the one that they used while I was there, either.

It's a sin...

2006-04-28T12:17:00.000-07:00

I still shocks me how much To Kill a Mockingbird sucks me in. I've read it 5, 6 times, the first time being in 8th grade when it was assigned reading for English.

And, yes, I read new things into it each time. When I broke up the aforementioned chapter one into sections, I realized the obvious shift in Scout's narrative from "Arthur" to "Boo." She describes Arthur's first court case, the one involving locking the town cop in the bathroom, and Mr. Radley asks to release Arthur to him instead of sending him to the industrial school. The last sentence there is something about not seeing Arthur for 15 years. The next paragraph is when we no longer see "Arthur," and "Boo" is adopted for the duration of the description. Cool.

I sat down at the beginning of my prep to read chapter 7, though, and underline vocab in my copy - the one I bought for my 8th grade English class. By the time I'd completed 3 pages of chapter 7, I had forgotten to underline vocab, and I read straight through to chapter 9 before I looked up at the class and realized the lunch bell was going to ring. That's dangerous.

But I really love this book. I feel like I slogged through some things this year because I don't love them the way I love TKAM, or even Odyssey and R&J. I know I need to find the passion in the other things. I'll work on it over the summer. In the meantime, I love TKAM.

Sappy

2006-04-27T12:11:00.000-07:00

I used to not cry at these weird newborn baby pictures. I do, now that I had my own and understood all the feelings behind these pictures. A post-hip mini-chick.

I cried.

Rampant apathy

2006-04-27T12:07:00.000-07:00

The man who is organizing next year's WASC visit is in the classroom next to me. He asked me to give my students a survey about their happiness with regard to school. I gave it to them today. Two things:

1) My 9th graders don't know what the word "adequate" means, but they know how to pronounce it.

2) One student, who I truly don't like, asked, "Can I just fill in 'no opinion' for all of the questions?" When I told him that this survey was an example of the adults asking him opinion about his school, he replied with a shrug, "I'm not going to this school next year anyway." [Insert here that he'll be going to a continuation school program like his sister is until he gets his act together.] Me: "You've made some friends here. Do you want them to have a good experience?" Him: "I guess." Me: pointing at the scantron and survey, "Then answer honestly."

I'm so afraid.

Growing up, up, up, up, up, up - UP (Ani-style)

2006-04-27T06:20:00.000-07:00

My dad did a tour of service in Viet Nam. It was cut short when his shoulder was shot off. In the MASH unit, they told him they'd have to cut off his left arm. When he was transported back to Valley Forge hospital, the surgeons tried a risky experiment on my father that they hoped would help him keep his shoulder. They'd never done it before.

It appeared the damage was in the ball of the ball-and-socket part of his shoulder. They couldn't do much for the muscles and nerves there, but they could possibly fix the damage in the socket. So they sheered off the top part of the ball, replaced it with a semi-sphere of calcium, literally bolted it in with a metal bolt, and then closed him up. They hoped the body would use the calcium to regenerate itself, and that it wouln't reject the metal too much.

It worked for the most part, although Dad was feverish for a few days. Therapy sucked, but it was better than amputation. The end of the bolt calloused over, the calcium did help with the healing process, and my dad walked out of the hospital with use of his left arm... and my mom on it.

He had a limited range of motion, and playing anything but sports with his newborn son was mostly out of the question. The advent of drive-up human tellers and then ATMs was annoying, since he couldn't lift his arm high enough in a car to use the drawer and buttons. Drive-thru food places were annoying, too. They he hit a health kick and decided to park and walk in to anywhere that otherwise had a drive-in.

When I was in high school, the callous around his bolt was damaged, and he went through a series of nasty surgeries at the VA hospital, but ultimately everything healed again.

-

My dad is a staunch Republican.

He started working for wages when he was 10, brought them home to contribute to the family. He worked through high school to afford clothes, dates, and a car he shared with my uncle. He worked through college - until he was drafted - to afford the expensive education. When he came home from Viet Nam slightly injured, with no college education, a wife, and a soon-to-be baby, he took a retail job and worked himself through night school, until he became too frustrated with that. Ultimately, he got a sales job with an industrial supplies firm, worked his way up to director of several sale divisions, and traveled all over the US, Canada, and Europe showing others what to do. All without a college diploma.

My mom is a bleeding-heart liberal, though, so when they voted - and they always vote - well, mom used to laugh because they canceled each other out on almost everything.

Dad said that he always voted Republican. He doesn't do it blindly, but the conservative/Republican candidates and issues have always appealed to him more. After all, he was able to work for his money, had traditional Catholic values, and believes that big business can do a lot to benefit the nations.

-

My dad voted almost completely liberal in the past election. In Ohio, a swing state.

I was so proud of him. My little boy's grown up. /me grins

Ridiculous

2006-04-25T17:12:00.000-07:00

I just spent the last three hours cleaning out my home email box. Three hours. Replying to emails, filing emails, printing out important papers, saving photos, downloading lessons people sent me. Ridiculous.

But, there's good news. If you've sent me an email to my home account in the last 4 months, you have probably received a reply now. And my in box is down to 30 messages (anything in the inbox still needs to be acted on... oy) and my other main box - the Las Madres stuff - is down to less than 25. Rock on.

Pleased as punch, and no one understands.

Too much, too little, too late

2006-04-25T11:43:00.000-07:00

So one of the lessons that I wrote personally - no help, little inspiration, no stealing - to begin To Kill a Mockingbird is failing miserably today. Bleh.

Inspired by a former teaching professor, I decided to take the first chapter and chop it into manageable pieces. Each student got half to a full page, and then I also underlined key words/phrases to understanding the passage. Each student was told to practice reading the passage, define the words or phrases, and then figure out what information they learn (about Atticus, Scout, Jem, and Dill plus the general setting) from the passage - independent of the context of the rest of the chapter.

Today, they sat in the order their passages came in the book. Number one mistake - I thought I was doing a good job separating the students who talked to each other, but in the first two periods so far I've made some MAJOR mistakes without noticing it. I had pre-assigned them passages, but I guess I was not careful enough in checking the order. Grrr.

Number two mistake - too much to do! The chapter has 19 different parts, and my first two classes so far got through 7 and 6, respectively. With reading out loud, defining words, talking about character and setting, rephrasing... too much to do in one class period! When I read the chapter out loud, it took 25 minutes, so I figured the kids reading out loud and answering a few questions would easily fit into a 53 minute segment. Uh, no. I needed to focus on either reading with periodic stops for discussion; characterization; setting; or definitions/vocabulary. Not all of it!

Number three mistake - too little, too late. The kind of expectations I had for my students for today's lesson should have been established earlier in the year. They had trouble finding the right meaning for a multiple meaning word mentioned in their part of the chapter. They didn't know where to go to look up historical allusions (like "disturbance between the North and the South" - even though we talked about the Civil War yesterday). They didn't know how to read into minute details to get characterization (like the "unsullied Code of Alabama" in Atticus's office).

So now I'm afraid that I'm going to start this book - which is fairly long and fairly difficult - and not finish it. Do I sacrifice some of the difficult parts of the story and potentially engaging activities/discussions for completion in reading? Or do I sacrifice the critical thinking aspect to at least build up their cultural intelligence? I plan to spend a lot of time reading in class, since most of my students have trouble completing homework (reading or otherwise) outside of class. Plus, all I have is a class set (20 books) for 59 students in three periods.

I have a unit plan, but now I'm looking at it trying to figure out what to cut and what not to. It's all good, it's all important, it's all key. But the end of the year crunch is terrible.

Clueless

2006-04-16T19:07:00.000-07:00

Our tax preparer finished our taxes, and we're getting a couple hundred from state, but owe federal over $2,000. Since we were not prepared for that (we've gotten money back from both the last few years), we were unsure where the money was coming from. Not much savings available, need to set some money aside in checking for bills. My daughter's richer than us right now. This is what happened this evening.

Joe: Hey, Claire, can I borrow $2,000?

Claire: Um, um, um, um, um... no.

Joe: I'll give you a pretzel with peanut butter in it if you will. [Reader: Think Combo-like snacks that Target sells.]

Claire: Okay. They're up there. (points toward Joe's Easter basket)

Joe: (opens the container) Here. Actually, take two.

Claire: (taking two pretzels with peanut butter) Why?

Joe: Because you're doing me a favor. Thank you.

Claire: Oh, thank you.

It's hard out here...

2006-04-14T12:07:00.000-07:00

I normally stay away from gang movies, or those that appear to have a great deal of guns or violence and cussing. I am just not that type of person.

But Joe and I casually watch Ebert and Roper every week. We don't normally GO to movies, but we like to think we're staying abreast of that medium and pop culture in general. They highly rated and recommended Hustle and Flow, a movie I would not typically be attracted to because of its content. But the idea of a pimp working his way out of the job and into the arts, well... that attracted me. I'd love to see it happen with some of my kids and their drug dealing/violence.

Then I saw the Oscars show. And the performance of "It's Hard Out Here (for a Pimp)." Um, yeah. While Queen Latifah's introduction and wrap-up of it was hysterical (and I'm a closet Latifah fan), I was not sure it was the kind of song I could appreciate in any movie. All the same, Joe and I agreed that it wouldn't hurt to Netflix the movie and see what all the hype was about. If we hated the beginning, we could send it back. So we watched it last night, even though I just wanted to go to bed early.

Wow.

Good movie. Sadly, the cussing and "adult themes" did not make me flinch as much as it did some of the characters. Desensitization - the topic of my senior research paper in high school. I really liked it. I was even shouting at Djay, the main character, when I didn't want him to do stuff toward the end. That's how you know I'm interested.

But this morning, both Joe and I had "It's Hard Out Here (for a Pimp)" stuck in our head. I was humming it during 4th period while I waited for kids to copy down some comprehension questions into their notebooks. Luckily, none of the kids recognized it, but then I told one of the kids I thought about him last night. I figured it would be a movie he would enjoy, if he hadn't already seen it. So then the kids wanted to know if I knew the song, and begged me to sing the chorus, which I DID NOT.

All the same. Still funny. I can't help but shake the feeling that the kids think I'm too old to really like it and I'm a poser. Which is fine. They can if they want.

I can't even get common prep periods...

2006-04-13T19:30:00.000-07:00

... and this guy thinks he can get the world to adopt a new weekly schedule?! I can't determine if he's serious or not.

I'm not a big fan of Daylight Savings Time either. Some people would like to rewrite the entire idea of time and calendar as we know it, though. Funny.

Zak and Sara

2006-04-13T08:40:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if I'm PMS'ing or if it was a stress release from the previous days of STAR testing and grading or if it was a stress release to ramp up for the stress ahead including Easter brunch at my place and the in-laws visiting. (I know, fragment. Deal.) But I cried yesterday, on the way home from school. Not a big cry, but I did. The trigger? You'll never believe: "Zak and Sara" on the car stereo.

Some songs I exact to cry to. "American Pie" and "Vincent" from Don McLean get me frequently. "Louise" from Beth Amsel gets me tearing up a little, too. My mom used to sing me "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," so I'll cry to that when I'm not watching the movie.

But "Zak and Sara"? Come on... is there a more odd song to cry to?

BNL: Be with me tonight!

2006-04-12T04:32:00.000-07:00

My husband loaded up the iPod with the car, but only did A-D before he got bored and copied over all of the Peter Mulvey catalog. So I hear entire collections of Mr. Peter Mulvey, Beautiful South, some Beatles, lots of Ben Folds and Ben Folds Five, Blues Traveler, Bob Dylan, Bruce Cockburn, Bruce Springsteen, Bruce Hornsby, Christina Abbot, Cake, Chris Smither, Christopher Williams, David Bowie, Dan Burn, Dave Carter & Tracy Grammer, Dave Matthews and his Band, and Domestic Problems. It's amazing how many groups in A-D hubby did not copy over, and most of them are "my music." I think this is odd, since I'm the one driving the friggin' minivan 90% of the time.

All the same, I've been listening to a lot of Barenaked Ladies lately, and remembering again why I liked them so much. All their albums, including the recent not-good ones, are on the iPod. My daughter jives to "Another Postcard (from Chimpanzees)" and a few others.

I was reminded of one of BNL's songs, though, when I woke from a bad dream tonight. I am under a tad bit of stress: testing this week, grades due tomorrow, grant running out with no further implementation plans, in-laws coming next week, friends coming for Easter dinner on Sunday. And that's just the big stuff looming. The last few nights, once I wake from a bad dream, the remainder of the night is restless and I don't feel refreshed when Joe's alarm goes off.

When I wake from bad dreams, I normally need to reassure myself that all is well with the world, so I shuffle over to my daughter's room to tuck her in and assuage my fears that she's stopped breathing. As per usual, tonight she'd kicked off all the sheets and was sprawled in the middle of the mattress with her head off the pillow and almost off the bed. So I shimmied her up the mattress, covered her and tucked her in, and rubbed her back a tad to ensure she'd go back to sleep.

However, when I stopped, she rolled over with her arms up in the air and her eyes barely open. Inner thought: "Shit, I woke her, it's 3am, and she's not going to go back to sleep!" However, instead, she said in her sleepy voice, stretching up to me, "I want you to sleep with me." Awww. Skipping over the impossibility of that in a toddler bed with my height and my weight, my heart melted.

I knelt back down next to her bed, put my head on her pillow, and pretended to sleep again. When I made a move to get up, she tried to grab me around my neck, saying "Don't leave me." At this point, I recognized this pattern as one from the morning wake-up routine: I try to wake her up some; she rolls over and ignores me; I tell her I'm going into my bedroom to get dressed; she asks me not to leave and starts to drag herself up to a sitting position in bed. At 3am, I did not want the last of those steps to occur, so I told her that it wasn't time to get up and I was only tucking her in.

/toddler pauses

"Otay." She rolled toward the wall, cuddled her Curious George stuffed animal and her mostly-naked baby, and went back to sleep. Cute!

When I got back to bed, my husband berated me for waking up our daughter (which he heard over the baby monitor in our room), and I remembered again that he just doesn't get it. After a bad dream like the one I had, she is the only thing that I have to re-center me and remind me why I do everything.

Beastie Boys

2006-04-11T10:31:00.000-07:00

My daughter is definitely the child of her father. This morning, when I was getting my hair up and she was wandering around, I asked her if she could do me a favor. She said, in true Beastie Boys fashion, "What chu, what chu, what chu want?" I laughed because I recognized the reference. Then she said, "What's the lines, Mommy?" She wanted me to sing the rest of "So What Cha Want", which I can't do. Her father can.

Sigh. Can we go back to Raffi and Elmo?

Boy friends

2006-04-10T20:07:00.000-07:00

I'm ramping up to read To Kill a Mockingbird during the last grading period this year. I was reminded, in reading through the first few chapters and flipping through my lesson binder, how much I like Scout. She's such a tomboy, and the book is so much about her loss of innocence, which is a good loss in her case. I love her greatly.

My daughter is something of a tomboy, but I imagine she'll grow into a bigger one eventually. She's always the climber, and normally a big risk-taker. She doesn't hit mostly, although she can shout passionately on the playground with the rest of the boys. She loves splashing in puddles, playing in mud, and doesn't care a wink about the dirt stains Mommy scrubs at on the knees of all of her pants. Last month, she was going through a phase where she loved playing with the woodchips on the playground at school, and got a TON of splinters to show for it. But after a few good tweezes and some tears, she'd be back in the woodchips again, not caring about the consequences.

We are the honorary members of two mini-playgroups through my mothers' group. One meets on Monday afternoons and one meets one Wednesday afternoons. I always have management meetings on Mondays and I normally have SLC meetings on Wednesdays, so I don't get to more than two, possibly three of these playdates per month. Most of the time, there is only one boy at the playdates; let's call him... Garrett.

My daughter has a "buddy" from school, a boy named... Adam?, that she refers to as her "buddy." She can only have one buddy, evidentally, and her school friend is it. So when we go to playdate, the boy there... Garrett... Claire never calls him her "buddy" or "friend" because she can only have one "buddy." I tried to explain to her that she can have more than one friend that's a boy, but she didn't believe me.

This is my history, though. In pre-school and kindergarten days, I lived next door to and played regularly with a family of four boys, not to mention the other boys in the neighborhood. I played baseball and whole-block hide-n-seek nightly. I was invited to their football birthday parties. In junior high, when the girls shunned me for not shaving my legs and liking the band Queen, I mostly hung out with a group of 7 or 8 guys, 3 of which were my biggest crushes, even going into high school. In high school, I spent my Friday or Saturday nights in the fall hanging out with my brother school's marching band at football games, and then spent the other 3 seasons talking to them on the phone, planning retreats with them through my church group, and attending basketball games with those in the prep band. That's how I met my husband! In college, I was constantly hanging out with guys - crushes, but nothing more, although there were some serious rumors going around - and doing non-date stuff with them. After college, I shared an apartment with my now-husband and his guy roommate, and we spent a ton of time with his guy friends in Ann Arbor and out here, after his friends and then we moved to the left coast.

But now? I have few guy friends. When I was trying to explain to my daughter that she can have more than one friend that's a boy, I could not be the example, really. I told her, "I have more than one boy-buddy. I have Daddy..." And then I was at a loss! Neighbors? Nope: lesbian couple, single woman, single mom. People from my playgroup? Nope; they're mostly moms, although I know a few of the husbands. Other friends? Maybe Jeff, the husband of a friend, but we don't see them much. People at school? Claire's met Paul and Bjorn and Dan, so I guess I could count them. But I really was at a loss. So I named my co-workers and left it at that.

Claire, in her cute toddler way, said, "Nooooo. And Uncle Brian!" Oh, right, I forgot. My brother, who I just talked to for 30 minutes last Friday, and 10 more minutes on Sunday. Duh.

Thank God I have my daughter around; she helps me remember who my REAL friends are.

Book club slacker

2006-04-10T19:12:00.000-07:00

I'm in a book club with my mother's group. Actually, I started the book club. =) We started it last September, and we read a new book each month. We pick books 4 months at a time, with the fourth month being a "free read." I've written about the book club before. We've read Kite Runner, Long Way Down, and My Sister's Keeper, all of which I read and liked. The group (but not I) has also read I Don't Know How She Does It (which they thought was stupid), Little Earthquakes (which they liked as a beach read), and Three Junes (which so many people didn't read that the meeting attendance was 50% less than usual).

While the group was reading Three Junes, I tried to read it, and then gave up. I decided I needed to fine a book that I didn't have to think about as much. So I picked up Pride and Prejudice and re-read it. =) After I was done, I started on a road of strange books. Allow me to explain.

1) Heart on my Sleeve - Senior in high school visits an arts college, falls in love with it, and then falls in love with a guy there, also a senior visiting. They begin to have an email romance from their respective states, but they both have romantic interests at home, too. Eventually, they meet up in person to find out that they are not compatible at all. In the meantime, the girl goes to an all-summer resident arts camp, where she is very disillusioned with the camp staff that she used to look up to. You have no idea how much this book resonates with my life - internet crushes, resident camp, the disillusionment thing. The book is all the better because Dar Williams (and other folky people like John Prine, John Gorka, Jim's Big Ego, and Cheryl Wheeler) figures prominently in the narrative, and I learned about Dar Williams from a resident camp friend (Dopey, for those wondering). Don't worry, donnagirl and Lynne, you're getting a mix once the next paycheck comes.

2) After finishing that one, I started reading Watch Your Mouth, written by Daniel Handler, who is apparently Lemony Snicket's "press agent." This book is about a college student, who goes home with his girlfriend (Cynthia, or "Cyn" for short) for the summer to live at her house and work at the local Jewish day camp. He soon finds out that his girlfriend is having sex with her father and her brother, and her mother is lusting after the brother. Once the mom finds out that her husband is having sex with her daughter, she builds a golem to get revenge. The mom suddenly dies thereafter, the golem kills the girlfriend at the funeral, and then slowly attacks everyone else throughout the book. Add to this that the story is told as an opera, complete with description of when the tymbani swells, when the golem's cello theme begins, and when the curtain drops. Completely strange. Now I know why Daniel Handler writes under two names: this book includes such graphic and somewhat crude sexual detail (almost all of Cyn's sexual encounters are described)! As a reader, I'd find an author I liked and read everything, no matter which section of the library I found the books in. Lemony Snicket readers should not be reading this one (or Basic Eight). I'm not sure if I want to read his new one, which just came out last week.

3) In browsing through the book store recently, I found a book whose title sounded like "Girl's All-Night Diner." It seemed like an interesting title, cover, and description (which I skimmed VERY quickly), that I bought it. Once I started it, though, I realized the book was called Gil's All-Fright Diner. It's basically about two Texan friends, a vampire named Earl and a werewolf named Duke, traveling through Rockwood. They stop at a diner to get some grub (well, the werewolf does, and Earl wanders off to find cold cow blood, which he hates). The diner has a zombie problem, so they stay on to help exterminate them. Then come the ghouls, the ghost that Earl falls in love with, a portal to the Underworld, and a 17yo sex-kitten high priestess of black magic. Completely funny and quickly engaging, I really enjoyed it. Turns out, it got an Alex Award this year, so I'm glad I'm in good company... even if it's not the book I thought I was getting.

4) Now I'm reading American Gods, finally. The first scene has a prostitute literally take her customer into her body through her vulva. Then, we find out about an ex-con who gets out two days early because his wife and best friend/future employer died in a car accident. He is picked up by a man named Mr. Wednesday, who I can only assume is an "old god," and then threatened by the "new gods," to not f*ck with them. Joe, my husband, says it's a really good book, but I'm a tad bit concerned. But the continuation of the story, Anansi Boys is another Alex Award winner, so... bonus?

I'm thinking about going back to Jane Austen after Anansi Boys. What a weird combo of stories I've picked up lately.

"Tell the story of a lifetime / Tomorrow brings a brand new day."

2006-03-16T22:13:00.000-08:00

I'm sad. Not for myself, but for my students. I can't believe the kinds of crappy places my kids are living in, the kind of crappy parents they have to deal with.

This week, I decided I needed to serve as a role model for what I want other teachers to do for the freshmen: build a good relationship with the parents. So, each day, I've been calling 2-4 students' homes about anything: absences, good grades, great skills at something, improvement in behavior we'd already talked about, warning about the up-coming project, etc. A sampling of what I learned:

1) Two of my students, who are friends, decided to steal one friend's aunt's car, money, diamond ring, and credit cards to drive across the country. They almost got to the Idaho border before Nevada cops pulled them over. They stayed overnight in a detention hall. The authorities said their parents needed to come out immediately to pick them up or they'd be put in the Nevada juvenile system. Their parents couldn't because of the unexpected expense and the snow. Eventually, they were put on a train, which derailed somewhere outside of Reno. They were put up overnight near Reno and finally got home today to their parents. In the true teen way of seeing the world, neither of them seemed too affected when finally picked up; one girl asked for her make-up case and a pop, the other asked for her CD player.

2) One boy has been physically abused by his dad, so he was stealing his mom's alcohol to get drunk after school and after she went to bed to forget about it. He practices self-mutilation, and has attempted suicide "at least once," he tells me. His mom gives him anything he wants and allows him to skip going to counseling because "I can't make him." She doesn't see family counseling as an option because she doesn't "need that kind of help."

3) One student is currently living with his aunt and uncle and three of his siblings. He has 9 altogether, but they were completely separated when they were taken from their parents, who were using drugs, beating the kids, neglecting them, and not taking them or sending them to school. They were shuffled around the foster care system for 2 years until this student and his 3 siblings were reunited and abother 4 of his sibs are with another aunt. The other two may be put up for adoption, depending on the outcome of the pending trial.

4) One student from last year seeked me out several weeks ago to tell me about her dad. He has been cheating on his mom for years with a co-worker of his. This student thought the woman was nice - since she'd randomly shown up several times when the girl and her dad were out to dinner, and then asked to join said student and dad. (That's sick, using your kids for some kind of legitimacy of a dinner date.) The only reason he brought the situation to the light and confessed now is because his lover is pregnant, presumably with his child, and he wants his wife to support the mom and child, since he doesn't have a job now. The wife is furious, and rightfully so, so she told her daughter what her "scumbag father" did. Since he confessed and made his request, my former student has not had a single conversation with her mom that doesn't involve expletives followed by her dad's name. The student herself is not sure if she still loves her dad, but she definitely feels sorry for him, being in a marriage where he doesn't love her mom anymore.

5) Another student is living with his aunt and several cousins. His mom is out of the picture, his grandma and long-time guardian died last year, and his dad is in jail. Dad was released from jail in October, and my student refused to go back with his dad (who has legal custody), but will not explain to anyone why not. (I hope my imagination is worse than reality.) Aunt began a court battle to keep him, which ended because the dad was locked up again for assaulting a police officer with a deadly weapon.

I only have 78 students, and this is 6 of them. I'm honestly afraid to call the rest. I wish more teachers would call their students' parents when something seems amiss to find out if they can help.

One episode

2006-03-09T19:45:00.000-08:00

I assigned a journey project for my students based on The Odyssey and Joseph Campbell and stuff. One of the episodes the students are writing about it "Sailing from... " Instead of "Sailing from Ithaca," like Odysseus, the freshmen are writing about what their life was like in 8th grade and possibly earlier. I wrote one for myself as an example. This is probably more than you want to know about me, but all completely true.

---

Leaving St. Bernadette’s

When I was in 5th grade, this boy named Peter came to my school from another school in the area. He and his sister were kind of funny-looking: pale, with dark circles under their eyes, and wearing perfectly-pressed plain clothes. But I sat with Peter in my classes a lot, since we were tracked at the same levels in math and English. He had a good sense of humor and a cute way of smiling, and I totally had a crush on him.

Since we walked home in the same direction and had to wait for the busses to leave, we got to know each other and became good friends. By Valentine’s Day of 6th grade, I had to tell him I had a crush on him. So I left him a secret admirer note with cut-out letters before President’s Day weekend. I figured, since we talked a lot on the way home from school, he’d tell me about it and ask me if I knew who liked him. The whole next week, I waited for him to say something, but he never did. Eventually, I sent him another one, in case he didn’t get the first one, but he didn’t say anything. Over the next two years, I put other ones in places for him – about one a semester – but he still never said anything.

Right before the 8th grade dance at the end of the school year, I gave him a note after play practice that told him I was his long-time secret admirer. The next day, I dreaded history class; Peter and I sat at the same island, right across from each other, and neither of the people that shared our island were at school that day. We spent the entire class talking about my feelings for him and how he couldn’t reciprocate because his mom wouldn’t let him date until he was 16. But he promised me a song at the dance, and we remained friends over the summer. We even kept in touch through our teen church group in high school, planning several retreats together. Eventually, we grew apart, though. Sometimes I miss him, but I mostly miss my memory of what he was. I don’t know much about who he is now.

I made some assumptions about my relationship with Peter, like that he’d confide in me about girls or that he’d be able to date, because that’s what I’d do. It took me a long time to figure out that even though we were in the same classes and had some of the same friends and interests, we were different people who treat situations differently. When I eventually got to know his little sister – and she became one of my closest friends as I was losing his friendship – I realized that even she, who had the same parents and upbringing as Peter did, treated things differently. At some point, of course, I knew that, but it was much more obvious in this case. I wish to this day that I had either told Peter early on about my crush or never said anything at all. I wonder how things would have turned out if I’d behaved differently. (Did I mention he married a woman last year named Debbie?)

Manifesto? No!

2006-03-09T19:34:00.000-08:00

So, I just went over to donnagirl's blog and saw this entry. Man, that's beautiful. It reminds me of Emily, which I know Donna would be very pleased by.

I'm a writer, but not like Emily or Donna. I like writing, and I'm occasionally moved to write. But I'm not an educated writer, so I really don't know how to make myself write. I don't think I could stop writing - I'd still write in my head, like Emily - but I don't ever think it's good enough to put on paper (or the internet) for all to read. I honestly don't think I have anything grand and important to say. If anything, I write to help me remember things (like blogging and journaling in our scrapbook). I supposed I'm very much the type that lives in the past, and I'm reflective about it.

I do try to learn lessons from my writing, though. I tend to naturally work toward a conclusion sentence. I daresay I'm pretty good at concluding sentences, actually. So when I write, I try to keep writing until I get to a conclusion, at which I can stop.

But, I also stop writing when I'm not feeling good. I suppose there are many writers who do that. If I'm feeling stressed or my mind is cluttered, I don't want to put my thoughts out there. I don't want people to know that I'm like that. I don't want to portray that about myself.

I would like, at some point, to be able to boil my thoughts down to a few lines or a paragraph every day, which is what PHC does. Sometimes, I think of something while I'm driving to school or walking around the grocery store, but I never remember it when I get home. And I think of writing as a reward for other things getting done (the laundry, the dishes, my grading, my lesson planning) rather than an imperative. Since I'm about as lazy as some of my students are, I rarely get the chance to "reward" myself that way.

So, I don't have a manifesto about writing. I would like to some time, and maybe I'll share it here for all the world to see. Until then, I'll continue to chip away at my writing time and my writing skills and my writing insecurities. Perhaps you'll still be around when I get to a manifesto. Hope to hear from you then.

SLC Hero Journey

2006-02-06T22:32:00.000-08:00

I started teaching the hero's journey in class today. I gave them notes about the cycle and referred to movies they knew like The Lion King, The Matrix, and Star Wars as examples of the steps. The kids were really wowwed by it. I love telling them that Neo, Simba, and Dorothy are all the same.

I'm teaching the hero journey to lead up to a writing assignment, something of a personal narrative, but a little bit more. I want them to realize that they're at the threshhold, that their parents are the threshhold guardians, and that it's okay if they're not ready because the threshhold will be waiting there for them.

I had completely missed that I, too, am still on some kind of journey. This SLC stuff is really getting me. I got the "call to adventure" when Carlos and then Art asked me to do this coordination, given to understand that Art would be my supernatural aid that would help get things done. He's the only reason I crossed over the threshhold.

I've certainly had my challenges. I came in without the background, and with two coordinators before me that didn't actually implement anything. I have to spend money on the program this year, but I don't know what to spend it on that would be of us to the SLCs. I have only one resource period to do things in, and the master schedule was not created in such a way that my teachers can meet. I don't have enough teaching experience to be able to work around the paperwork, the procedures, and the red tape that goes with getting anything significantly changed for the better of the freshmen, much less the freshmen. I have to deal with teachers in the school that are so settled in their ways that they've lost sight of why they're there: to teach students so the students learn.

I've also had temptations. I've wanted to drop it all. I've wanted to ignore it. I've wanted to spend my entire resource period responding email to my volunteer positions or leave early to go to my daughter's playdates.

But I've had some amazing helpers along the way, and one fabulous mentor. It's obvious the principal is on my side. There are several teachers in the major departments that have the energy, enthusiasm, patience, and intelligence to get things going in their houses. The new APED was my friend last year, but she's really been someone I can go to to talk things out and I leave her office feeling better every time.

You can tell from previous posts that I hit the abyss a few weeks ago, as much in SLC as anything else. I was really at the lowest place I could be. The grant evaluators suggested I talk to other SLC coordinators at other schools about their implementation process. This is where my big revelations come into play. I've talked to one coordinator who is a counselor now, and one coordinator who is an APED now. Both say that they found that 3 resources periods - not the one I have or the zero my predecessor had - helps to get things done and actually coordination of the SLCs. They also said that common preps are key. Hunh. See challenges above.

So now I'm beginning to move my way to transformation. I'm forming an idea of my vision for SLC implementation in the school. I'm collecting resources and making connections. I'm looking forward to going to a conference this week, in which I expect to gain more ideas and make more connections and relationships.

I know, it's wide-eyed optimism, but I hope to return to the "known world" at the end of the week with a better understanding of where I need to be and how to get there. Wish me luck.

Family and immigration

2006-02-05T21:17:00.000-08:00

Nope, this is not a politically charged discussion of immigration policies. Sorry. Go to Daily Kos or something.

This is about a quote I read in Nick Hornby's book Long Way Down. It was something about how marrying into a family is like moving to a foreign country. It really struck me as true then, since I was reading it just as we were planning on going home for Christmas. With both sides of the family in the same town, but not buddy-buddy, and 45 minutes away, it's always hard to balance time with both families. It's even harder now, when they want to see the kid.

When I started getting serious with Joe, I felt there was a lot to adjust to, though. They had different interests than my family (his: sports; mine: sitcoms), different inside jokes, different focuses on things like religion (even though we both grew up Catholic), chores/cleaning, money management, and volunteerism. Joe didn't and still doesn't remember much from his childhood, so I would love for his parents to sit down and tell me stories about him. That's not their culture, though; they live in the present and the future much of the time. Alternately, my parents have a pretty good handle on the past, and we're constantly telling stories about silly stuff we did as kids. Joe had that advantage, whereas I didn't.

But I spent the weekend scrapbooking pictures from my brother's wedding almost 10 years ago, and I'm not entirely sure that Hornby's thought is true anymore. My brother married an amazing woman, and I'm not sure that any of us had much of a culture shock with her. Her parents are eerily similar in to my parents in values, jobs, and interests. Her sense of humor was such a match with us that we didn't know whether she was my mom's secret love child. The biggest adjustment for her, I think, is learning the names of all of my dad's side of the family (but she's a teacher, so it's not that bad). The biggest adjustment for me was dealing with the fact that she had three brothers, a completely foreign concept to me. And, well, I could have done without being set up with her youngest brother, who was my age, but that's a whole other entry.

I keep thinking that she was too smooth of fit. Shouldn't there be some dissonence in a family relationship? Shouldn't there be some adjustment? Am I just being egocentric and not considering the hard parts about living among my family members? It got me worrying in my dreams last night if her easy adjustment meant that, eventually, the marriage would dissolve and I would be without my only sister... again. I have more faith in my brother's and her marriage, but it still made for an odd nightmare - complete with reference to B's old girlfriends, Jian Ghomeshi, and the State Theater in Playhouse Square.

So, what do you think about marrying into a family? Is it like moving to a foreign land?

"We are everybody..."

2006-01-26T21:47:00.000-08:00

Getting closer to better again.

An acquaintance and I went walking on Monday as part of a mommy-exercise group within my mother's group. It was really good walking around the track late at night and chatting about our lives for a while. She and I were fairly good friends until I went back to work, but we haven't been much in touch since then. It was fabulous to catch up, and it got my energy and all those crazy internal chemicals moving around, which was also good for my mood.

A few days ago, I was going to post a short post, something like, "It it situational irony that I'm freaking out about being prescribed anti-anxiety medication?" I'm not freaking out anymore, but I haven't taken any either.

I went to my general doctor, though, and I wanted to talk about my potential ulcer and my diet and my forth-coming exercise program and some other things. She kept on looking at my weight gain over the last 2 years, and I panicked a bit. I know it's bad, but I didn't need the numbers, thanks. So I told her about the changes I've instituted in my life the last few weeks: packing lunches to take to school, eating breakfast, drinking more milk and water and less pop, joining this mommy exercise bunch, avoiding stocking my room with candy, going to sleep early, not taking work home, etc. She was pleased with the changes... and then prescribed me anti-anxiety meds (because I worry too much) and anti-addiction meds (because I told her I'm stress eating, and therefore I have an eating addiction).

But she didn't refer me to a psychiatrist, and that raised red flags for me.

I'm sorry, but I don't mind taking meds for emotional or mental problems. I think that if you need the temporary help with your endorphine levels or the neurotransmitters in your brain or whatever, well, meds are a good option. But you should be taking meds in tandem with meetings with a psychiatrist, therapist, counselor, something along those lines. That way, your head doctor can help you get to the root of issues, change your internal scripting (as my mom calls it), and get to a point where you can deal with things without the meds. I think prescribing meds without referring the patient to a head-helper is only setting the patient up for a lifetime need for the meds - which make evil pharmecutical companies happy - without any hope of getting off the meds.

So, I called my uncle, who is a psychiatrist and has been practicing for over 25 years. He lived with us when I was young, and he's very close in age to him, so I've always felt close to my uncle. He and I talked about my situation, what led up to it, what the triggers were, my eating/sleeping/exercise habits before and the changes I've already undertaken.

Then he said two things that caught my ear. Number 1: The way the doctor prescribed me meds - after a 10 minute talk and no referral to a psychiatrist - is how about 60% of brain meds (he had a fancy word for it with lots of Greek/Latin roots, but I forget it now) are being prescribed. Number 2: He suggested I work with natural supplements and a regular exercise regiment first. So he suggested a time-release multi-vitamin and some gingko baloba, with occasional shots of liquid St. John's Wart (yuck) once I get serious with workouts.

These seems more reasonable for now. It seems more natural, more sane (no pun intended), and less drastic. It's calmed me down about things, which is what the meds were supposed to do, but without putting a ton of yucky manufactured chemicals into my bloodstream.

Catharsis

2006-01-20T00:58:00.000-08:00

I'm getting closer to being better. I crested the mountain today.

A couple of things came together, one I was expecting and one I wasn't.

The one I wasn't expecting was spending almost 2 hours in the APED's office talking a ton of crap out. Some things were said on record, some off, but all good. We talked about what my teaching is like when she's not in the room, and how terrible it is to be an analysis-focused teacher who doesn't know how to change trains when she's heading for a cliff. We talked about differentiated instruction, and how little time I have to devote to it but how enamored I am with the concept. We talked about how well I get to know the kids, educationally, and how that's very much related to my previous job. We talked about how my extra position on campus is not fruitful, and how the adminstration on campus and at the DO ignore my request for help by placating and falsely complimenting me. We talked about the yucky politics on campus and how two-faced some people are. We talked about the lack of motivation on campus for the work that I'm supposed to accomplish, and how we're going to tackle it. We talked about some amazing teachers on campus that are not out-spoken, so no one knows. We talked about plans for this summer's Summer Bridge for incoming frosh and how we're going to pre-test these chil'en before they come to us. We talked about what the APED needs to get from the feeder schools before the kids come to us. We talked about the children that we birthed. We talked about my hormones and finals and my late grades and the grant evaluators coming tomorrow.

I was really a fantastically helpful discussion. While the "expected visitor" had already come and explained my big mood swings, our talk really helped - and continues to settle - my mental state. I'm not sure I'm ready to quit my job and move to Cambridge with a new credit card anymore.

Thanks to the people that sent me private emails. It was sweet and completely unexpected. (Hi, Sara!)

---

On the homefront, I just figured out a few hours ago that I sent an email to my husband mistakenly on wednesday. I had typed it out in a frenzy of emotionalness to get it off my chest. There was some name calling and some boldness that I normally don't bring out in that email. I guess I sent it instead of saving it as a draft.

My cousin just decided to divorce his partner/wife of several years because they are not good as a married couple, but still really good friends. They have a beautiful little girl and twins, which they will continue to take care of together, but just not in a legally binding contract. It just seemed to put down too much pressure, I guess.

I'm not ready for divorce, but I do find it hard to separate my best friend status and my wife status from my husband. Some would say you can't or you shouldn't, but I find I do. I've compartmentalized a lot of things in my head. (Ask me about the above-mentioned cousin one day.) My best friend husband hears all my stories and I listen to his. My best friend husband and I watch a lot of the same shows and laugh at the stupidity of a caped woman flying off a Las Vegas skyscraper to her death.... and then coming back to haunt the hotel she was standing on at the time. We talk about interesting music. But, as a wife, I wonder if he'll ever set up our dates. And the wife-me feels like I need to nag to take care of the house and finances with him because he doesn't do much in a timely manner if I don't.

My eyes hurt right now, though, because I haven't been sleeping and I've been crying too much. I need to go. I really don't care about grading finals right now.

Sad, sad, sad, sad and far away from home...

2006-01-17T20:38:00.000-08:00

... and by "home," I mean the metaphorical home, not the real geographic home.

I've been very out of sorts lately. It began over holiday break, continued after we got back from school and through finals, and now into my extended semester/MLK break. I don't feel like myself and I'm not happy about a lot of things.

Yesterday, our family went on a hike to Uvas Canyon County Park or something like that. Hubby and I used to hike a lot before the baby, and then quite a bit after baby. We haven't been hiking in a long while. We'd been to Uvas Canyon before, so this was not new terrain, but I began to feel like myself during the second half of the hike. I was smiling more (although also panting more) and spontaneously kissing both baby and hubby. I took lots of pictures of interesting things on the hike and began to talk out with hubby how I was going to scrapbook the trip.

Came home from the hike, tried to take a nap, woke up when baby wouldn't sleep, took her to a playdate I'd hoped to sleep through. By the time I came back from the playdate, I didn't feel like myself again.

When I relax my mouth muscles, my mouth naturally turns downward a bit. My aunts always used to mistake my blank mouth for sadness and tell me, "It takes less muscles to smile than frown!" Sigh.

But in the last 26 or 27 hours, I have been frowing a lot more. I've been very reflective about what sucks in my life, and I've been very quiet around friends and family. Reactions are quiet and controlled, emotions more or less flat. I guess it's just as well that I didn't work today.

I'm hoping things get better and I get back into my normal way of thinking and being. I miss that self. Until then, I'm not sure I'll be posting here much. Putting down such super-personal thoughts, well... I drawn the line somewhere.

Cherrio.

My creation story

2006-01-05T23:20:00.000-08:00

We've begun working on mythology in my classes. The DO requires a unit on mythology for freshmen that may or may not include The Odyssey. I normally begin with creation. You know, "Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start."

Anyway, we also began on the same day to talk about oral tradition and why people handed their stories down orally and how hard it is for kids to learn orally today. I stole an activity from a colleague and did something of a game of Telephone in my class. Kind of.

I sent a few students out of the room, three to be exact. While they were outside, I told the rest of the class a creation story I'd made up. (I had one prepared, but I'd left it at Kinko's the night before.) They were to listen only. After I was done, I gave them five minutes to write down as much of the story as they could. Then I chose one of the students in the room to help with the next part. I brought in one of the students outside. Outside-1 was told to listen carefully to the inside student I'd chosen. Inside student was going to tell outside-1 a creation story. Outside-1 was to listen so carefully that he/she would be able to repeat it easily. So chosen inside student told their version of my story. Then, outside-1 told outside-2 who had come in, then outside-2 told outside-3 when he/she came in. Finally, outside-3 told the class. Discussion followed.

My kids were surprisingly thoughtful about the activity, discussing the trouble with my story and how I could have presented it to make it better. We talked about delivery of the storyteller and the outside kids were surprisingly honest about their weaknesses with listening. I was kind of impressed.

So here's my creation story:

In the beginning, there was only Oobleck and Oobled. They were brothers and shared one space. However, they were not great friends. So one day, they decided to split apart. They stretched and pulled and pushed until they had separated. Oobleck became the sky and Oobled became the water. There was nothing in between.

Oobled, being the more outgoing brother, got lonely quickly, though. So, he thought he would recede his waters a bit to create land on which he could put animals to play with. So, he started receding, packing his water deeper and deeper into the land under the water. Oobleck looked down on the emerging land, saw what Oobled was doing, and got jealous. If Oobled did not want to talk to Oobleck, he sure as heck was not going to talk to anything else! So, Oobleck rained down huge downpours of water for days and days. Oobled realized that his receding water was not going away as fast, adn sometimes it didn't seem like it was going away at all. So, Oobled stopped receding his waters, but there was still some land sticking out and Oobleck could do nothing about it.

Oobled waited quietly for many, many, many years. When it had been so long that he figured his brother had forgotten about the land-emerging issue, he went to work again. He started pushing up seeds and roots through the ground in his water and up through the exposed land. He created trees and plants and bushes and vegetables and flowers. The land was beautiful and he knew his new friends would love living there. But Oobleck looked down and saw the big changes. He rained down heavy raindrops and blew terrible winds. He killed many of the species of plant life Oobled had created, so Oobled stopped growing them. But there was still some plant life on the land and Oobleck could do nothing about it.

Oobled waited quietly for many, many, many, many years. When it had been so long that he figured his brother had forgotten about the growing-plant issue, he went to work again. He started creating animals to live in the sea like fish and sharks and hydras. That way, Oobleck could not see them from the sky. The animals were never detected, so Oobled created animals that could live in water or on land like snakes and frogs and turtles and lizards. Oobleck did not notice their presence. Oobled began to make things that only lived on the land. He made 4-legged creatures like cows and antelope, and then creatures who could stand on two legs like bears and monkeys and humans. Oobled got so excited with his creations that he forgot we was trying to avoid Oobleck. Oobled next made birds and bats that fly in the sky, Oobleck's domain. Oobleck noticed all the animals then, so he got really angry and rained down for many years. He killed so many animals that Oobled wept.

Oobled was happy with the animals for now, but he knew he would want another creature to create and keep company with. So, since then, Oobled has been waiting quietly and patiently, planning the next creation to come onto the Earth and share the area with.

Bueller? Bueller?

2006-01-03T00:59:00.000-08:00

Once, when I was hip and cool and young, my now-husband/then-boyfriend and our friends would sit around and talk at Denny's at 2 in the morning. We'd tell stories about crazy things we'd done - or wanted to do, but just couldn't find the balls to do - and crazy things that could happen and make us laugh in their impossibility. Interlaced through the conversation were non-announced quotes to movies, television shows, commercials, songs, and previous discussions or events together.

One friend, Shell (I could link here, but I'm not gonna), was particularly good at this. We'd be talking about something relating to money and the eventual school loans that would affect us all, and she's shout, "I want my two dollars!". If we ran across a waiter that had an odd name, perhaps she'd say something like, "We named the dog Indiana." And don't even get me started on how she and Joe could quote Police lines back and forth!

In any case, my point is that we were cool. I liked the mental gymnastics and personal challenge I experienced when trying to weave something appropos and contemporary into the conversation with our friends around. Then, it made me feel like I deserved the friends I had and that we'd created these in-jokes, really just common cultural references for our little group of friends.

But, alas, we moved away from most friends at the time. We don't keep in touch with them often. We only see them once or twice per year. We had a child, and some of them do, too, or are expecting.

I observed yesterday, though, that my husband, my daughter, and I are creating our own odd in-jokes within our little family unit. It's kind of weird, a little saddening, and yet stimulating and exciting to see my daughter create these jokes and connections for us. She's obviously developing a sense of humor and becoming someone we can be proud of.

For example, Dora the Explorer has an episode called "Hick, Boom, Oh." Basically, Boots and Dora keep hearing those three utterances from afar and do their three-place traveling to find out what is creating the sounds. It turns out it's Benny the Bull, who has such violent hiccups that the "boom" is him falling down on his butt, and the "oh" is him groaning about the pain of falling on his butt from the violent hiccups. Frankly, just a tad far-fetched, but what isn't in Dora?

Anyway, now "hick, boom, oh" is a part of our in-jokes. I was teaching Claire another part of the body, hip, last week. She (intentionally?) misheard me when I pointed and said, "hip," and she said, "Boom! Ohhh!" We laughed.

In the car waiting for Joe to come out of the train station, we discovered that virtually any 4 or 5-syllable word/phrase can fit into "Mahna, Mahna," including claire's full name. I got carried away with that one, so Claire said, "Please stop it, Mommy," which is also 5-syllables, so I switched to that. Eventually she got frustrated and I stopped, but she has begun to sing "Banana hair" in the bathtub when we wash her hair with the banana-scented shampoo from Bath & Body Works.

Dora also has an episode called "Sticky Tape," in which Benny the Bull (again) is riding in a hot air balloon that has a rip in the balloon. Dora chases after him the whole episode trying to get him the tape. But, as she gets close enough to hear him, he will say - quite emphatically, I might add - "Sti - key Tape!" So, now, everytime we're using masking tape or duct tape or scotch tape, it's always called "Sti - key Tape!" you can imagine the shear enormous number of opportunities wrapping and unwrapping gifts this holiday season alone.

We also have listened endlessly to a CD called For the Kids, which is really good kids' CD that adults can enjoy. But we know all the songs, so we break out in a chorus of "We've Got to Be Clean" when it's time for Claire to wash her hands after a meal. We've overused "The Hoppity Song," especially the chorus when we're hopping around and the bridge when we randomly start saying, "hi." I've even goaded her on - just to mess with her - and told her that "Sing a Song" is my song, knowing full well that she'll insist it's her song.

And can I tell you how many times I've referred to the ladybug in Sesame Street recently? In an episode new for this season, Big Bird is shrunk accidentally by Mumford the Magician. He's feeling frustrated with how long his little steps will take to get to Alan and Gordon so they can help him find Mumford and make him big. This huge ladybug shows up and sings a song about how important it is to try. Jus tthe mere mention of "the ladybug" now will convince Claire that she care try to zip her pants by herself, nap without a pacifier, or help me make dinner close to the stove.

I remember I had so many cultural touchpoints with my mom and brother ("Welcome to Jamaica! Have a nice day!") that it made us tighter. It also helped us figure out who my brother and I could marry by how well they could keep up with the conversation and then contribute to it. While I never mean to make anyone feel uncomfortable, perhaps emphasizing these in-jokes for our family will create the same tight-knit closeness I want in the family and present a divining rod for people in the future who may want in. Only the best deserves to be with my daughter, after all.

A walk-through

2006-01-02T11:54:00.000-08:00

In my methods class in 1997, when use of the internet was just becoming popular in Ohio, one of my assignments was a "web walk-through" or something like that. The idea is that you go a search on Yahoo! (the popular search engine at the time) for a topic you're interested in, and then click links on that page that led to another interesting page, etc. You kept track of all of your webpages as you go and include a three or four sentence summary of each site, including interesting stuff learned and whether you could use the site for personal reference or use it directly in the classroom.

So here's the short version of what I did today.

I opened my journal links folder on my bookmark bar. All the journals (upwards of 20, mostly edublogs) opened in separate tabs. The third on the list is Ms. Frizzle. I admit I hadn't read her in a few days, so I had a few days of posts to catch up on. I came across this one, which intrigued me. Thanks to her mention, I opened up both Assorted Stuff and the BBC News article that Ms. Frizzle takes excerpts from. I've read Assorted Stuff before, though, so there wasn't much new for me to read there. I went to the BBC site.

I read through the bits of information in the article, many of which were quite surprising. Since I've recently learned that my husband, his dad, and his brother are cut-throat Monopoly competitors. (Joe's dad used to be the Dean of Business, with a specialty in econ, at the university he taught at, and he now travels the world to help other colleges and universities set up business schools.) Evidently, neither son has ever beaten dear ol' dad... until my husband did Christmas night. I don't think he's still glowing about it, but he was for the next day or two.

In any case, one of the bits in the BBC article is about the orange properties of Bow Street, Marlborough Street, and Vine Street being - tactically - the best in the board. I don't think it comes as a surprise that I'm living in the U.S., though, so I didn't recognize these names. I wondered if the Brit Monopoly board and the U.S. board were all that different, so I went looking. Found this. No colors, but still interesting. All the right places for railroads and untilities and even Community Chest and Chance! Wow. Just based on London. Hunh. But still no color, until I found this at Wikipedia. Man, they write about everything. I especially liked the section about house rules and the 1992 add-on called Stock Exchange. Neat.

Then I looked at the list of spin-offs and variants. Man! I didn't know the copyright was gone so early. I just thought Hasbro was being money-hoarding. I notice most of the local ones are in Britain, but I know there's some for Cleveland (which I think I might own) and one for most of the major universities in the United States. I have a mind to edit to entry... but not yet.

So, there you go. There's my walk-through. Maybe you'll get another one day.

My amazing New Year's Eve Party

2006-01-01T18:26:00.000-08:00

Hunh. Inspired by PHC, I decided to come back to Blogger and tell you about my weird and somewhat amazing New Year's Eve Party.

So, to backtrack a bit. My little family unit went back to the Cleveland area to see the grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. that wanted to see our growing child. The flights were okay (anything's better than last year's cancelled flight into Cleveland which inspired us to rent a car and drive from North Carolina with a stranger). We were able to balance enough time with both sides of the family. Claire got lots of time to play with her cousins, and so many presents we had to send back three medium-sized boxes home to CA.

We got back on the 27th and I got three of my four wisdom teeth pulled on the 28th, bright and early. (The first had been pulled by my first dentist I had after we moved out here; he retired shortly thereafter.) The 28th, I was miserable, but on good pain meds. The 29th, around 12:30pm, when I was going to bed, I felt strangely like I'd given birth. Maybe this was because, as after the birth of my daughter, I was suddenly light-headed, feverish, nauseous, and my head was both fuzzy and spinning. Luckily, I was headed to my bed, so it was good timing. Or something.

A little more background - I belong to a mother's group of 45 women with children born in or around 2004 and who live in the same city as I do. Within the large group, there are several small groups of 6-8 families, called sit-n-plays. I'm in one, although I think I might be the least active member of the group. One of the women in our group had a baby a month ago and, being Chinese, had "done her month" and needed to get out. Several other people in the sit-n-play were going to be out of town, though, so there was not much help there.

So, at 2pm on New Year's Eve, I called a few people in the sit-n-play that were not out of town, and a few more people from the mother's group that might be available, and told them I was having a little party at my place from 6 to 9pm. My daughter could watch the ball drop in NYC, and then go to bed, only an hour later than she usually goes to bed. Since I was still recovering from the extractions, I told my guests finger food and fondue was all I was offering, and they could bring something else if they wanted.

By the time 5pm rolled around, I got the impression that one family and maybe the Chinese family would be stopping by - of the seven I'd called. A little bummer, but it's not like I'd put much planning into it. But I had bought some food, cleaned the house, and made my husband shower and clean up the bathroom a bit. We'd see. I told my husband I didn't expect many people, although I'd told him how many I'd called, and we sat down at 6 to wait.

Between 6 and 9pm, 6 families were in my living room, not including my own. Frankly, unbelievable. I don't consider myself very much of a party-thrower -- although I love being the hostess -- and I have rarely felt confident in my social status within the mother's group because of my frequent absences from activities because of work or night school. Yet, somehow, I threw a fun party with four hours' notice and almost everyone came! Crazy.

---

Re-reading: Emily of New Moon by L. M. Montgomery

Listening to: The Autograph Man by Zadie Smith (yeah, no music right now)

Ding, dong, the Witch is dead!

2005-12-13T06:57:00.000-08:00

Short post, but it had to be announced: I am done with my final project for that damn writing class. My portfolilo is missing the last two assignments, which I never did, but everything else is done and revised. It's not bad, except that it's missing the two assignments that make up 40% of my grade.

What is an adult?

2005-12-12T19:06:00.000-08:00

For one of my warm-ups last week, I asked my 9th graders: What is an adult? Below are some of my favorite answers, complete with appropriate mistakes.

"You become an adult when you are very responsible. Like getting to work on time everyday; paying the bills, taking care of children... A 36-year-old could still be a child if he doesn't have responsibility."

"To be an adult means to be over 30. Even if they don't have a job there lazy, but there still an adult."

"To be an adult, you should accomplishment beyond suspected. Have a family, be marriage, be a college graduate. Have a job, pay taxes, own a house, car."

"Adult means that you have more responsibilities. You have to act more mature and get a job. You have to live in your own house and raise a family. It also means your going to have to pay for your own things."

"You know when your an adult when you do things your suppose to do."

"To be an adult is hard. You have a job and work. You hardly hav free time."

"To be an adult, people have to respect you."

"To be an adult is to have knowledge from your childhood days. And remember the mistakes you've made so you don't repeat them. To be wise, or wiser then you were when you were a kid."

"I think that parents should go to work give me money. They shouldn't do anything embarissing. They should go to school for what they want to be. Just love there kids and live there life."

"To be an adult you must be mature and responsible. You view things differently when you mature. To be an adult, you are usually older but that doesn't mean you act your age. Adults have different minds about issues, but they know what is wrong and right, usually."

"An adult is someone who take responsibility for their own actions. They should be able to take care of themselves and others without screwing around."

"An adult pays their bill, has a sucessful job, and maintains a good social life (party every weekends). They have to be a responsible human being because other wise, they end up on the streets. They have the right to make a mistake but not too many times."

"To be an adult is to act resbonisble. I don't care well yeah I do you got to be at least 14 nd think responisble. They have to be mature. They have to think. Think hard on the desicions. They know how to act. It doesn't matter how many or what materials they have."

"There are many different reasons on being an adult. For me is being responsible and supportive. Also and opinion from me is to set goals in life. Last to be a mature person."

"To be an adult is to have more respoibilitys. Act more mature. That dosne't mean to Act uptight. You can still be childish, but there are time when you have to be serious. I plan to be childish still when Im a adult. I want to stay a kid."

"It takes a lot of guts to be an adult. The most important thing that an adult needs is a lot of responsibility, cause you will need to pay for yourself. Being an adult is not easy, it is incredibly hard. I think it is the hardest stage in a humans life."

"It means you have to responsible for your action and work. It is also mean you should be able to take care of yourself when your parents are away for work or different stuff. It is also mean you should stop fooling around and start learning for you future. You would also need to think before you say or act. It also mean start thinking and giving a best answer to your problems."

"I don't think being an adult has any form of physical means. Being an adult is a frame of mind. For some people, it means always doing the "right" thing. To me, that is a false statement. Because doing the "right" thing isn't always doing things right. As an adult you have more responsibilities - what you do or choose to do reflects and effects everyone you come in contact with. Being an adult doesn't mean boring, dull, and old, it means being mature about situations and doing the right thing the right way."

Alternative assessment

2005-12-11T23:55:00.000-08:00

I've always been a supporter of alternative assessment for kids, especially high school students, when the disparity between ability seems to be huge. My school is currently trying to do away with "Comp & Lit", the English bridge class between an F in English 1 and a higher grade in English 2. It has the same required texts as English 1: Romeo & Juliet, To Kill a Mockingbird, and some sort of mythology unit, which may include The Odyssey. So the students often know the stories. The teacher, who I never had much respect for because he'd skip a lot of the department meetings, recently spoke at a department meeting about the huge F rate in our school. Based on his thoughts, I decided alternative assessment is something I'd like to delve into.

A few weeks back, I gave my students a choice for their final project for Romeo & Juliet: either a scene rewrite to another setting with performance, a choice of 8 "individual inquiries" that focused on targeting the multiple intelligences, or a traditional test with multiple choice, short answer, and one essay. Two periods picked individual inquiries and one picked the scene rewrites.

The individual inquiries presented their projects on Friday. For the most part, they were good. Some of the "DJs" included too many songs from the Baz Luhrman Romeo + Juliet soundtrack, but I'll modify the assignment for next year. Many of the DJs, though, included some really cool music that showed me they were thinking: "Don't Fear the Reeper" by Blue Oyster Cult, "Dreaming of You" by Selena, "By my Side" by Deestylistic, "How to Deal" by Frankie J, and "Here Without You" by 3 Doors Down. One pair were curators, and they did "artwork" of cartoons inspired by the play, which was really cool. One student investigated what Juliet could have taken to slow down her metabolism and what Romeo could have taken to kill himself then and now. An interesting discussion about "deadly nightshade" (which my students know as what Sally put in her creator's soup in Nightmare Before Christmas) and what it is related to that we eat now.

My scene re-writers will be presenting their skits tomorrow and Tuesday. We'll see.

I still didn't feel like I had closure on the unit-that-would-not-end. (It went from 6 to almost 9 weeks because of illness, two rounds of different testing, incredibly terrible student behavior, and photocopier malfunction.) So, I came up with the following "test," which I warned my students about. I told them they should have all their materials in class, that it wasn't a test they could study for, and that it wasn't the typical type of test - no multiple choice, short answer, matching, or essay (I lied about the last part). I'll let you know how it goes.

How has your knowledge and feelings about Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet changed now that we’ve read it together?

Guidelines:
Your response must be a mixed written and graphic representation of your answer. Put the graphics on the front of your paper. On the back, glue a piece of lined paper with a 5-10 sentence paragraph explaining what your picture means and how you feel about the play now. You can be honest if you hate it, but back up your hatred with real specific reasons why.

You may talk and discuss with your group members only. No talking to other people at other tables without my permission.

This is open-book, open-notes, open-packet.

You may put almost anything in your picture/collage, as long as it applies to the story in the play or your feelings about the play. Hand-draw, trace, cut out pictures, or mix them. Use crayon, marker, colored pencils, or a combination. You may include thoughts you pasted in, words cut from magazines, quotes from the play, etc. However, curse words and offensive pictures are not allowed, and you will be given an F. Ask me if you think I might be offended. Do not cut out of the textbook.

Pace your time; you will be given periodic warnings about how much time is left. This is the only period we’ll be doing this.

Those who show inappropriate behavior during this test will be given a zero and sent outside. Copying will not be tolerated. All the work on your final product should be only yours.

You should spend the rest of the class period on this assignment. You are not “done” until I give you a warning before the bell to clean up and pack up.

The test is worth 50 points. Students who meet bare minimum – plain picture, little color, no quotes, and 5 short sentences on the back – cannot earn more than 35 points; a C-.

You may not leave my room until it is completely cleaned up.

If nothing else, I might get a few interesting pictures to hang around my room...

How much TV is too much?

2005-12-06T22:16:00.000-08:00

This was asked on one of my mothering groups today. I thought the below kind of summed up my thoughts.

---

> age- so what do you do
> with your child? How much is OK? What do I do about
> the constant crying and demand for the TV?

When Joe's home with her on the weekends, whether or
not I'm there, he has sports on during the day. We
have a season ticket on cable to the Michigan games,
plus he normally watches one or two the interesting
baseball, hocket, or football games on Sundays. It's
just part of the life. Claire knows which is
baseball, football, or hockey by looking at it, but I
wouldn't say she watches the games. She'll play on
the carpet between the couch and the TV and glance up
every so often. I think it's confusing to her, but
acceptable background noise. Plus, on the commercial
breaks, Joe will take out the football, baseball, or
broom and little ball (hockey) and practice with
Claire. She likes that a lot. And during the games
he'll occasionally "instruct" Claire - like, after a
bad call on the Browns, Joe will say, "Claire, see
that guy in the black and white shirt? He doesn't
like us Browns fans." =)

Aside from that, I echo what Rosetta said. We TiVo
shows that are age-appropriate and we try to talk to
her during them. (If you don't have TiVo, there are
DVDs of most of the popular PBS and Nick shows.) I
admit, though, that sometimes I put them on while I'm
washing dishes and leave her to them. Dora, Diego,
and Bear in the Big Blue House are her current
favorites on TV, but Sesame Street and Blue's Clues
have been favored in the past. We also started buying
DVDs to watch on our long cross-country treks to visit
family, and Fraggle Rock and the Muppet Show are also
favorites of hers. We talk about what's happening,
sing or jump along with the characters, and let her
get up and play with other stuff if she gets bored of
her show. We be sure she's watching commercial-free
stuff. (Have you noticed how McDonald's sponsors both
PBS and Nick Jr. a lot? Man, they get them early with
the Ronald-recognition!) We limit her watching to 45
minutes on the weekdays and 1-1.5 hours on the
weekends, depending on the weather outside.

I can't help with the demands for TV much. Claire's
been watching some form of TV and demanding it for
over a year, she knows we're not going to give in when
she whines. Maybe that's the key - say no, and never
give in. (Honestly, we've been known to tell her that
Bear's still asleep or Diego is busy eating dinner.)
It may take a few weeks or months, but Amelia will
figure out it's not worth her while. Two ideas: Get
her out of the house immediately (walk, park, pet
store, grocery shopping, visit a friend, take out the
garbage), so the TV is no longer an option. Or, tie
in the brand stuff: "No, we can't watch Sesame Street
right now, but I have a CD of Bert and Ernie singing.
Why don't we listen to it while we color the Elmo
coloring book?" All the big toddler shows - Wiggles,
Blue, Barney, Dora, Sesame Street - have an immense
number of tie-ins for music, coloring, and toys.

Just keep in mind - this is the *easy* time for TV
watching. Can you imagine when our kids are teenagers
and we have a great deal less control over their
watching habits, both choices and amount? Yikes!

Debbie

Letter to...?

2005-12-06T19:28:00.000-08:00

Prof. of my writing class -

I've tried most of the weekend to morph my weak personal essay into a strong conference paper. I've look online for hours looking for conferences related to mothering issues, parenting issues, bookclubs, or even schizophrenia (I have an article I was thinking about revising for a conference paper for the class that I tried to get published in Psych Today a few years back), and there's very little. Frankly, there are no conferences I'm interested in presenting at except teaching conferences, and I'm not seasoned enough with that to feel like I'm ready to present.

Additionally, I have been brainstorming ideas for a book proposal for over a week now, since the wonderful presentation from the two women last week. Parenting issues? Cleveland lit? Book review/club spotlights? Small learning communities as a viable option? Reading strategies and programs? I've got nothing long enough, in depth enough, and unique enough to say anything. I think I've led a pretty vanilla life and don't have the experience (or arrogance) to think I have something worthy of book-length publication.

So, when you get my portfolio next week, it will be sparse. I have a second draft of my personal essay, which is still terrible. I have a revised annotated bibliography. I never got input from the book review I handed in. I don't know what your comments are on the magazine review because I didn't come to class today, and I don't imagine you'll make time to send them to me over email considering my attendance at class.

Bottom line - you were right from the beginning, but for the wrong reasons. I have the writing ability, but I don't have the focus or interest that the class assumes. I don't want to be a published writer in the near future. I want to be a good teacher and a good mother, and that's all there is. I shouldn't have let you talk me out of dropping the class, but I really wanted to believe what you said: teachers need to be actively writing and seeking to publish. This is the only F I have ever gotten in a class (and the only one I imagine I will get) and it's taken me 13, almost 14 weeks to accept that. Foolish pride, but at least I arrived there.

Frankly, though, this has been the worst semester I have ever had. My daughter and I have both been sick several times, my car battery was on its last legs, my husband has been traveling more and my babysitter has not been keeping up, and my stresses at work have been so much greater. Compare my attendance record for all my other classes in the past, and you'll see I only missed one or two classes per semester. But I've missed 3 or 4 classes for and 4 or 5 for you because I'm just overwhelmed.

Thanks for your insight and your stories. Perhaps we'll meet again in the future, when I'm mentally ready for this class.

Sincerely,

me

"Hello?! We're doing SSR!"

2005-11-30T22:45:00.000-08:00

I have not used the term SSR before. Most of the time, in my class, I call it ER for "enrichment reading," if anything. My students call it SSR. But most Wednesdays, we have a minimum day, which cuts my classes down from 53 minutes to 35 minutes. Since my warm-up can run anywhere from 5-10 minutes, depending on the task, I rarely want to do anything involved in the 25 minutes left.

On of my colleagues pointed out to me that the California standards calls for each 9th grader to read 1500 pages of non-assigned reading per year. Since I know a scant few get there on their own, I thought I would encourage it with some independent reading days on our minimum days. The students pick a book to read, they respond to it in their reflection journal, they hand in a few entries per week, and I hand it back.

The first few weeks of doing this, I admit, I was ready to abandon it, even if it was on my green sheet. Todd had done the same thing in the past, and found that the journals actually lowered the kids' grades drastically. (He's adjusted things, and it might be working better now.) I'm not grading on pages read, like he was though. But I really wanted to quit because the students were just not buckling down to read on Wednesdays. They would "forget" their book at home, cluster at my slowly-growing bookshelf of books, talk and pull books off the shelf, eventually pick one 15 minutes into the period. In the meantime, the rest of the kids would be chatting or whispering because the kids at the bookshelf were. It was ridiculous.

6 weeks ago, if you read back, I dropped the hammer on them. I started calling home or emailing home more. I have several parent conferences lined up for tomorrow and Friday. I kept kids in for detention if they forgot their books or their materials. I threw kids out of my room for talking. Now, on Wednesdays, I send off this vibe, a don't-fool-with-our-reading-time vibe.

I have three periods that do this silent reading en masse. Today, every single one of them went from warm-up to silent reading in 2 minutes. Only one of two kids were not focused on reading the whole time, and I forgive them since they've recently joined my class and don't know me or the ER assignment well yet. I looked up from reading the final pages of How to Be Good in all three periods and actually found students reading a wide variety of books. Reading! When I interrupted them one minute before the bell to do final reminders of homework, they made eye contact with me reluctantly, most with their eyes darting between me and their books. I'm hoping it's because they were absorbed with the stories. It made me happy.

---

Reading: Parable of the Talents by Octavia Butler
Listening: nada. Anyone have recommendations? I need some new tunes!

Middle class guilt

2005-11-30T22:03:00.000-08:00

My daughter's birthday is tomorrow. A few months ago, I was discussing with friends and family the possibility of asking for donations to a charity in lieu of gifts for her birthday. I figured, she's only going to be 2. She's doesn't understand birthdays much yet, she doesn't remember getting piles of gifts. This might be the last time I'm able to do this. And, besides, she has more toys than she knows what to do with, even after I weeded out the ones that she's outgrown (like chew toys and Taggie stuffed animals).

But the more I talked to friends and family (and strangers at my scrapbooking night), the more it sounds like my request for charity donations in lieu of gifts would be misinterpreted as gifts for Claire and gifts to charity. So, I decided not to ask for charity donations instead. After all, if people are going to shower Claire with gifts, who am I to stand in the way? And, as Joe pointed out, we can just donate some of her old toys to charity to make room for the new ones.

But then I went to TRU the other day (that's the abbreviation the staff uses; I worked there one Christmas season) to buy a few gifts for nieces and children of friends. We had talked about getting Claire a "laptop" of her own to play with, so I checked those out. And then I picked up, like, four or five other things for her birthday and Christmas gifts. My final check-out price was at least double what I'd planned to spend when I'd left the house, and I had some serious buyer's remorse for the rest of the night.

Why did I do this? I'm totally all about sharing the wealth with others. Both sides of my family decided not to exchange gifts with adults this year. Joe and I are laying low for holiday gifts for each other this year. I didn't get him anything for his birthday last week, and I don't expect much for mine, aside from the usual "camping trip." I've sent more money to charities this year than in all previous years since I've been getting a paycheck. And, yet, here I am, spoiling my daughter, she really does not need to be spoiled.

I'm ashamed still, on the eve of her birthday. But part of me is so looking forward to seeing her open her mini-broom and mini-mop, too. =)

Facing myself in the mirror

2005-11-29T22:27:00.000-08:00

I've talked to several people today - and yesterday, and the day before - about how "I don't want to be a writer." I swore up and down to many people, including my best friend in the world, that my goal is not to be a published writer.

And yet, here I am, writing in a public setting and checking in periodically to the comments to see what people say. How ridiculous is that? Of course, I want to be a writer. I like writing, I like reading what I write, I like fooling with words and changing my style. I do want to be a writer.

Additionally, when I'm in a situation where I'm with other writers, talking about writing and workshopping and talking about future options, I get jazzed. I get excited and inspired, and a small part of me whispers, "maybe..."

I still have that crazy class, the one whose end goal is for me to write something that I can publish or present at a conference. It's a good exercise for me, but it's not something I want to do right now. My brain is not wrapped around sending out cover letters and running to get the new rejections in the mail and spending an hour obsessing over one paragraph to get it just right. My vocabulary's not there, either; I'm constantly reading my classmates' stuff and realizing that they have a much better command of language than I do.

Oh, 'course, part of it is because they are Writers (with a capital W). They've applied to an MFA program, they were accepted to at least one, and publishing is their goal. For most, all they are doing is writing for writing classes and reading for lit or writing classes. Many don't have another job, only one is married, none have kids. Two work part-time teaching, the rest are full-time students.

Virginia Wolff had a point - I need time, I need space, and I need to support myself without doing much work beyond my writing. With my current other life choices, that's just not possible.

Which is not to say that I'm not open to writing as a career in the future. Maybe, when I've gotten this classroom teaching challenge out of my system, my kids have grown up and left the nest, and my volunteer activities are more limited, then I'll have the luxury of sitting down in a coffee house, a la Anne Lamott, and writing everyday until my hand goes sore. Or I can partition my time during the day to the administrative aspect and the writing aspect, like Neil Gaiman does.

Until then, I have to be honest with myself - and y'all - that there is a little hope, in the far-off future, that writing will be my only livelihood and that I will publish somewhere otherwise than my small, obscure blog. Until then, I'll take you - all the audience I have right now.