Haunted by CMT's

A few weeks ago, my principal emailed the results of the CMT scores--that would be our state standardized tests-which are mandatory beginning in 3rd grade thanks to Mr. Bush.

I'm not so sure why he thought it would be a good idea to email these scores in the middle of summer, without any sort of commentary at all. But he did.

They were horrible.

Actually, let me correct that statement: third grade (which is what I teach) was horrible. Fourth and Fifth-not so bad- they even went up in some areas. But third grade....well, we took a serious nose dive. Our reading scores were well below what the district (and the state) wants them to be. Math and writing also for that matter, but they were a bit closer.

Here's the kicker- for me at least- the scores were broken down first by grade, then by gender. So I have no idea how my students did in relation to the other classes.

And I honestly can't decide if that's good or not. As the most veteran grade level teacher on the team (one of my colleagues is two years ahead of me in experience but she was on a different grade level), I am hoping that my scores are reflective of my experience. One colleague already pointed out that our scores could have gone so down so substantially because we had two new teammates. But I'm not so sure that is the full explanation. And if it isn't... what does that say about my teaching?

It is hard not to take this stuff personally. OK, part of that is because it is my personality. I do believe that being reflective on your practice helps you to improve. But these are my kids, and this is my job- to teach.

It would be easy to make excuses--and there are some that are truly valid. But the bottom line is that it is hard, in this day and age of No Child Left Behind, to not feel scrutinized based on the scores of your class. It is hard to not panic when you learn that only 57% of the girls in your grade level were at or above goal in Reading. Even harder when you see a difference from one year to the next of over 15 points. It's hard to think of the hours you poured into developing curriculum, planning lessons, sorting through piles of professional books, talking with colleagues.....to reach those students and teach that content. It's hard to not be just a little bit disappointed.

This is where all the politicians with their fancy speeches and empty promises becomes real. Any politician who tells you that merit based pay for teachers is a good idea, and they'll use standardized test scores to decide that pay--well, just remember that there are those of us who pour our heart and soul into their jobs, and sometimes, the numbers just don't reflect that.

Wading into new waters

I haven't been able to post since my last one...not because I haven't had the time....but because I couldn't figure out where to go from there. Once you've poured out your heart--essentially to the unknown--where do you go? It seemed almost silly to write about my weekend at the beach house, or the major shopping trip I did- at the teacher store-or the curtain rods we purchased....

So, I have decided, for now at least, to give you an update about this new world I am beginning to wade into. Here's to hoping I'll just be dipping my toes in, and not diving head first into these murky waters....

I went for my blood work. To check hormone levels and other various things that I don't really understand. It was a little bit of a challenge--the directions were easy- get it done on the third day of your cycle, but, of course, things were a tad messier. My third day turned out to be a Sunday. So, after much thought, I took a risk and went on my second day. Guess it was the right decision because the results came back.

Apparently all is normal except (and here is where we enter this new world of words I don't know) my prolactin levels. Which were high. How high I didn't ask, but high enough that I have to go back again for more blood work to see if it is consistently high or if it was a fluke. Prolactin, for those of you that don't know (I certainly didn't!) is a hormone that women secrete to stimulate milk production. My doctor actually asked me (I'm assuming he was joking) if I had recently had a child. Clearly, no.

He told me not to panic (which I didn't-then) and explained some reasons why it might have been high (none of which applied to me) and asked me to go back again for blood work (no big deal). I hung up feeling good. We are getting somewhere. Figuring things out. If this is what it is, some hormone that can potentially be treated with some pills, well, that seems manageable!

Then I went to google. Which makes me think that sometimes having so much information at your fingertips is NOT a good thing. I'm not normally one of those people to self diagnose or freak out over health issues. However, reading the words "tumor" and "pituitary gland" definitely made me panic just a bit. But my doctor had said don't panic, and he also called me by a nickname, which I liked, so I relaxed and decided to wait to really panic until I get more blood work done and we figure out if this is a fluke, or something more serious.

So, I have one more lesson to add to my life's education: prolactin = breast milk. Now if that is only a question on Final Jeopardy when I happen to be a contestant, then I'll be all set!

One of the things I love best about this blog, is that the writer is not afraid to be Honest. She writes from her heart, which, I think, takes courage and strength.

I, on the other hand, have always been afraid to be too open, too honest, on my blog. Times, they are a'changing. At least for this post.

Here's the thing: when I first created this blog, I had hoped that it would be the place where I would share NEWS. I mean Big News.
Of the baby variety.
I thought, or hoped, or dreamed, that this would be where I chronicaled my pregnancy, and the birth and growth of my children. I started the blog in advance of that actual happy event in the hopes that I would be a regular blogger so once said happy even occured, writing would be a part of daily activity.

As with many of life's events, things aren't going exactly as planned.

My husband and I have been "trying" (I'm starting to hate that word....who tries to have a baby? You don't try, you just have one!) for a year now. This August marks a year actually. Much like when I was 25, unmarried and unattached and people would ask, when are you getting married?, I am beginning to cringe and blink away tears when I hear the question, "so, when are you going to have a baby?"

I foolishly believed it would be easy. Ah, my naivete! My innocence! I thought, "How hard could this be?" After all, I have so many examples, on both sides of the family, of cousins who have managed to get pregnant without much difficulty at all.

Apparently, it's not as easy as one would think. And the emotional roller coaster of it all is...well, an emotional roller coaster.

I know what people say....what people think. I know that people think I am too busy. Maybe even too stressed. I know that people think I want it too badly, I'm trying too hard. Thinking about it too much.

I struggled with that. Thought about stopping everything. Even imagined what life would be like if all I did was teach. And I couldn't. I couldn't picture it or imagine it. See, I don't know how to not be me. I know that it is a personality flaw of mine that I say yes to everything and everyone. That I bend over backwards to make everyone around me happy, often sacrificing what I want, what I need, to do so. I know I need to work on finding balance in my life. I know these things. But I also know that I have always been busy, always been involved. Even the merest whisper of a suggestion that perhaps I stop, even the one off handed remark, well, it feels like I'm being asked to stop being me.

But then the horrible thought occurs (emotional roller coaster, remember?) what if being me is what's preventing me from having what I feel, at the bottom of my soul, I am ready for? I push that thought aside, and tell myself that there has to be other reasons, that it is normal for it to take awhile, that there are thousands of women who have gone through exactly what I am going through....in other words, I convince myself that it's OK to be me. But, despite all my pushing, all my convincing, the thought creeps back in, like a bad odor you can't get rid of that permeates your senses and leaves you feeling sick to your stomach.

I've even tried some reverse psychology. Stopped using ovulation predictor sticks, stopped taking temperatures, stopped trying so hard, thinking so much. I'm too clever for myself though and those tricks don't seem to have worked either. How do you not think? Not try? Not pray every month that this would be the month?

In my darker moments, I cry. A lot. And I have arguments in my head, coming up with reason after reason, all my fault of course, as to why I'm not pregnant. Some ridiculous, and I know they are ridiculous even as I list them in my head, and some serious. I question everything that I do and I worry what people think, convinced that I am disappointing all of them, convinced they are thinking that I am making the wrong choices. For a person like me, the thought of disappointing others is the worst possible thought. And I sink into bleak sadness.

In my brighter moments, I tell myself that if anyone was meant to be a mom it is me and I put my faith in the inexplicable, secure in the knowledge that the reason I'm not pregnant yet is a reason I don't understand. And that it will happen. Fortunately, this is where I spend most of my time, convinced that one day I'll be able to announce to the world that I have been blessed with a miracle.

Still got it

Picture this: a group of women that I was just eating lunch with (it was a meeting, not a fun lunch date with friends) leave an average restaurant in the town I work in. We gather outside the door, discussing directions to the next stop. Two men stand nearby, chatting together. Since I am not going with them to the next stop, I say my goodbyes and walk away...

I head towards my car, but turn around to offer one last wave to my colleagues. As I do, I notice that one of the men is behind me. He calls out "How you doing?" I smile and nod but turn back around and continue walking. Just as I reach my car the following conversation ensues:

Him: Excuse me, let me ask you something, how old are you?
Me: (Taken slightly aback at the absolute brazenness of the man) Almost 31. (If I'm asked that question, I always answer almost 31 because, frankly, it feels a little old to me and I'm trying to get used to saying the number.)
Him: You are absolutely adorable, are you single?
Me: (Seriously shocked and looking around for someone I know so they can witness this crazy scene.) No, I'm happily married. (Slight emphasis on the happily.)
Him: (Extending his hand.) I'm John.
Me: (Extending mine, although I'm thoroughly confused as to why he'd want to shake my hand when I clearly indicated that I'm not at all available.) Lisa.
Him: You have a great handshake too. (I am rather proud of my handshake I must say. No limp hands for me! No no, a nice firm grip. He starts to walk away and calls over his shoulder, nice to meet you.)

A colleague rounds the corner at the end of this exchange and calls out "I leave you alone for a minute and look at what happens!" I explain what happened and then end with, "I can't wait to tell my husband this story!!!"

That's right, almost 31 and actually getting hit on!

No more scary room!

When Russ and I first moved into our house, we discovered many things that frightened us. The three layers of kitchen floor that were held together by a glue so old it had turned into a solid-black-almost-tar-like substance for example. Or the plaster and lath that we discovered behind our kitchen walls. But nothing scared us as much as the room that we, for a full year, actually called the scary room.

This picture honestly doesn't do it justice. You can't see, for example, the weird pattern on the wall paper that was clearly put up before either of us were born. Nor can you see the wooden bar stretching across the length of the room that was used to hang clothes on. And you certainly can't see the writing we discovered underneath the wallpaper once we pulled it off. Writing that didn't make sense. At all.

So, for a year, it became the "scary room", aka, the room to dump stuff in when we didn't know where else to put it.

We had grand plans: to paint, put up a closet.....see, our house was built in 1921. They apparently didn't need as many closets back then because in our three bedroom house we have one teeny-tiny closet and a second one that is even smaller and has shelving in it. Needless to say, we've had clothes strewn and draped everywhere.

Well, this summer marks a year that we've been in our house and it was time to Get The Job Done. With some help from a contractor, the walls were skim coated, sanded and painted. Major first step. (And a big sigh of relief that I still liked the color I picked out a year ago!) Then came the closet. We went online, designed it ourselves, bought all the pieces and brought them upstairs. They sat there for a little while, while we went about our curriculum work and Russ did his coursework. Then Russ started assembling, and of course, as with any house project, it ended up being a bit more complicated than we had thought. However, after a slight, very small, barely noticeable fit of nervousness by me (August 1?!? When did it become August 1!?!? We only have three and a half more weeks until school! Aack!) Russ pushed through and got it done. And, if I do say so myself, it looks pretty darn good.

Yeah, I did

The other day, while browsing through my local TJ Maxx, I came across an item that immediately sent me back to the joys of my youth.

Jelly shoes.

I LOVED jelly shoes when I was a kid. I had them in almost every color you could get them in. My favorites were a clear pair that I kept long past the point of outgrowing them.

So, naturally, when I stumbled across this blast from my past, I couldn't resist. (Especially since they were only $7!) I did it. I bought them.

NYC

Russ and I went to the city this weekend. (I teach in Fairfield folks, when I say the city, I mean NYC.)

There were a few things I learned:
1) (And this is nothing new, but it was reaffirmed.) I am a suburban girl through and through. I like the city. I like the hustle and bustle. I am fascinated by the way a homeless person can start screaming and cursing and everyone studiously ignores them. I like the architecture--how you can have an old church sandwiched in between two modern glass buildings. And I love the people- they are so interesting and eclectic.
But I don't like the hustle and bustle. I don't like the way you can be walking down the street with your little three year old daughter and have a homeless man start screaming and cursing at you for no reason at all. And then that same man start following you so he can continue to yell at you. (That happened, not to me obviously since I don't have a three year old but I saw it happening and the little girl looked so confused and frightened I wanted to hug her and shield her from this man who was so clearly drunk off his rocker and shouting horrible things at her daddy.) I don't like the buildings--all crowded and towering over you. And I don't like that there is hardly any nature. Oh, and don't even get my started on the smells. I can visit the city....I even lived in one (and loved it) for a year and a half. But I can't imagine living there forever. No....I like my grass and trees and clean air and stars and peace and quiet. Suburban girl. All the way.

2) What's up with the new version of waitering? Now, when I was a waitress, we had sections. We took care of the tables in our sections. We took orders, we delivered drinks, we brought out food, we cleared plates, we delivered dessert, we brought the check and we checked in to make sure all was well. Every now and again, if someone was particularly harried, we'd help out and deliver food or drinks to another table. In NYC, for each meal we ate, we had about four different waiters/waitresses. One said hello. Another took our order. Still another delivered the food, and a different one cleared plates and/or checked in to make sure the food was good. Very confusing. This makes the issue of tipping difficult. The first person was nice and personable. The second downright rude. The third harried and confused. Wait, who was our waiter?

3) I am a fabulous wife. Yes. I am proud to say that I gave an absolutely amazing gift to my hubby. We went on a river cruise and got to listen to Old 97's LIVE while cruising past the Statue of Liberty and the Brooklyn Bridge- among other things. (Don't worry if you have never heard of that band. My husband prides himself on his love of slightly obscure music. But they are rather awesome, so you should check them out!) It was beyond fun and I felt rather pleased with myself for coming up with such a clever birthday present!

All in all, it was a fun weekend....and we marveled, once again, at how easy it is to get into the city, and we discussed how we should do it more often. Last time we said that it was a year ago.....somehow I doubt we'll get there again until another year has passed!

Harry haze....or the most astonishing amount of willpower ever to be endowed on a married couple

That's right....I, like so many of my fellow Potter fans, have been in a bit of a Harry haze these last few days.

But not because I'm reading the last book of the series. In fact, I haven't read one single page of the new book.

Yes, of course I own it....I know you are thinking (in a confused Neville Longbottom like way) "But wait, you own the latest book, you are on summer vacation so therefore you have loads and loads if time to sit on a cozy chair and read it and you aren't reading it!?! What's wrong with you?!?"

Well---see--it's this whole marriage thing. It's sort of preventing me from reading the latest book.

Let me explain: Russ and I have a long history with Harry. Our relationship can even be marked by the series. No lie. For those of you that don't know, we met online (match.com--before it was cool to do so) and the very first time I ever saw Russ, he was sitting in a cafe, reading the latest Harry Potter book that had just come out the day before. Many of our initial conversations revolved around the books....Fast forward two years and the next book came out on our wedding day. And much like Courtney Lanahan, we managed to procure two copies of the book to bring on our honeymoon where we read- and discussed- one chapter at a time while sitting on a gorgeous beach. (Although I certainly didn't go into a bookstore in my wedding dress. No, Russ went and bought the books for us. Although he was in his tux pants....) Our second anniversary approached and so did the final installment of the series.

So, now you know the history, I'll tell you the problem: I had thought to reread the whole series before reading the last book. Ambitious, I know. Russ had thought to reread Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince before rereading the final book. After seeing the latest movie (twice), I changed my mind and decided we just needed to read the last book already. School is fast approaching (I don't want to talk about that) and once school starts, well....first of all I just know that all of my students will have read it (and most of my colleagues), and I'll be too busy with school work to read it. I argued my case--rather fervently I might add.
But to no avail. Russ held firm: he wants to read book six before moving on.
He did tell me I could read the last book without him but, clearly, what kind of wife would I be if I did that?!
Plus I'd have no one to talk to about it. (I realize that is a ridiculous statement since everyone seems to be reading the latest book but I mean, no one in my immediate vicinity to discuss the plot with.)

So....for now, I am plowing my way through the books, trying to finish them all before he finishes book 6. (Luckily for me he is a bit distracted with school work-he's taking a course this summer-and with his Wii.)
And the last Harry Potter book sits temptingly on our kitchen table, so that we can both eye it longingly several times a day....and so that I can wear down his resolve a bit....

The Disney version of blogs

Apparently, my blog is G rated....it makes sense that a third grade teacher (whose languge is almost always appropriate for 8 year old ears unless I'm seriously fired up about something) would have a G rated blog.

But I am oddly disappointed.....I would say that perhaps I'll step it up and start dropping f-bombs left and right but we all know that would just be a lie. So I guess I'll take my G rating with a nod to Walt.

NEA Representative Assembly

It's been awhile I know....

A few weeks ago, I went to Philadelphia for a week long trip to attend the NEA Representative Assembly. Even though I wasn't excited about the prospect of being away from home for a week, it ended up being a really amazing experience. Words cannot begin to describe the feeling you get when you walk into a room filled with 9,000 educators from around the country. Some of you may shudder at the thought but I found it inspiring. It was also really amazing to learn a bit more about the NEA. This year marked our 150th anniversary-the NEA was created just a few years before the outbreak of the Civil War. What was really neat was to learn that the NEA has been at the forefront of all the major civil rights changes in history....I definitely felt proud to be a teacher!

And the things we talked about! Over the course of six days we discussed and voted on over 130 new business items, legislative amendments, by-laws and resolutions. The topics ranged from monarch butterfly curriculum (seriously) to supporting the end of genocide in Darfour to NEA's stance on the war to laws allowing drug testing of bus drivers involved in accidents. Personally, I had no idea that the NEA was involved in such global issues.

We also had some special guest appearances...Hillary Clinton, Barack O'Bama, John Edwards and our very own Christopher Dodd. We had a few other Presidential candidates too--even one Republican! Of course their messages were all the same, and the promises they made were ones that all teachers would love to hear: higher pay, better health insurance and the hot topic of the hour: the lack of funding for No Child Left Behind. Richard Dreyfuss came and spoke too, although to be honest, his speech didn't impress me all that much.

All in all the experience was a good one, and any teachers out there- if you have the chance to attend then I definitely recommend it.

NEA RA

I'm off to Philly for a week long....conference? meeting? Hmm....I keep calling it a conference, but I'm not sure that's exactly what it is. Here's what nea.org has to say about where I'm going and what I'm doing:

Delegates will gather June 30 through July 5 at the Pennsylvania Convention Center in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania for the Association's 145th Annual Meeting and 86th Representative Assembly.
The National Education Association Representative Assembly (RA) is NEA's highest decision-making body. With over 9,000 delegates, it is also the world's largest democratic, deliberative body.
The RA is convened every July during the Annual Meeting. The first two days are devoted to discussions, conferences, and exhibits—but the highlight is the Representative Assembly itself. During this important event, delegates debate issues that impact American public education, elect top officers, and set policy for the 3.2 million-member Association.

Over 9,000 delegates that are setting policy for 3.2 million members. Crazy, right? Almost makes me feel special!

So, I'm off for a week....I'm sure I'll come back with lots of stories about how amazing and powerful and awe inspiring it was to sit in a room filled with educators and discuss issues near and dear to my heart. Right now though, I'm just dreading waking up at 3 am to get to where I need to go!

Meme

1. Where is your cell phone? purse

2. Relationship? Exponential

3. Your hair? Trimmed

4. Work? Teacher

5. Your sister? Intelligent

6. Your favorite thing? Reading

7. Your dream last night? Nope

8. Your favorite drink? Wine

9. Your dream car? None

10. The room you're in? Red

11. Your shoes? Red

12. Your fears? Controllable

13. What do you want to be in 10 years? Happy

14. Who did you hang out with this weekend? Family

15. What are you not good at? Lying

16. Muffin? Lemon Poppy

17. Wish list item? Puppy

18. Where you grew up? CT

19. The last thing you did? Read

20. What are you wearing? Shorts

21. What are you not wearing? Earrings

22. Your pet? Rambunctious

23. Your computer? Laptop


24. Your life? Busy

25. Your mood? Content

26. Missing? Russ

27. What are you thinking about? Friends

28. Your car? Old

29. Your kitchen? (Almost) finished

30. Your summer? Beginning

31. Your favorite color? Yellow

32. Last time you laughed? Today


33. Last time you cried? Yesterday

34. School? Daily


35. Love? Gloriously

Sixth day without students, second day of summer vacation

School has been over for six days now....and today marks my second official day of summer vacation. The professional development is over, the curriculum work is done (for now at least) and the day stretches before me with nothing to do and nowhere to be.

Yesterday was much the same, and it ended up being exactly what I want my summer to be....what I have been craving for the last several months. I woke up at the deliciously late hour of 7:30 (OK, OK, I know that is not so very late, but keep in mind I've been waking up at 5:00 for school every day) and lazed around in bed watching a movie. I had some bizarre desire to see Garden State or even Elizabethtown but discovered I didn't own either of these movies (a situation I intend to remedy) so I ended up watching Casino Royale. Not so bad. Mindless action with a few romantic encounters thrown in for good measure. I drank two cups of tea and even ate breakfast in bed.....
Then I headed to my mom's house to eat lunch with her and spend a few hours lazing by the pool. Where I finally began reading again. It's been so long since I read a book for pleasure that I almost forgot how much I loved it. Sad really. I have a few new favorite authors, Anna Quindlen, Anita Shreve....and it was glorious to lie in the sun and read.
I returned home and my perfect day continued with some gardening.... planting parsley, pulling weeds.....then I managed to make a yummy dinner (turkey picatta and saffron rice, one of our favorites) and drink some white wine while watching So You Think You Can Dance. I ended my day with a workout and some more time spent reading.

I can definitely get used to this.....

One more day.....

Believe it or not, the year is (almost) over. One more day and that is it. Another year ended, another group of students sent off to lead their lives and follow their futures.

The last few days have been a frenetic flurry of activities: finishing report cards, coordinating end of year gifts, planning parties, contacting parents, entering data into our data base, administering and scoring those last assessments....I fall asleep with a to-do list running through my head and wake up with three more things added to it in the morning.



Today was cleaning day. Oh, the cleaning. You know the Tazmanian devil? The one from the cartoons that creates a whirlwind while grunting in a gutteral language? That's about what it was like in my classroom today, except the background music was provided by my students' Ipods. Oh yeah, and there were twenty three tazmanian devils. We cleaned and dumped and scrubbed and danced and sang all at once. Quite amazing actually-- especially when my classroom mysteriously turned into some crazy musical with four of my girls doing a coordinated line dance with twirls and everything while singing along to Cotton Eyed Joe. I looked around for cameras convinced I had landed in some School of Rock type show. Although, an hour and a half into it, with my headache growing steadily worse, I decided it was time to stop and have some quiet reading time. (Of course, my headache was getting steadily worse because of the number of times I needed to answer the question "What do we keep at school? Can I bring this home?" Despite telling them- repeatedly- what needed to stay and writing it in big red letters on the board: PENCIL, WRITERS NOTEBOOK, BOOK TO READ. Simple, right? Apparently not. I think I should have tallied how many times a student approached me, it might have been a world record of some sort.) Needless to say, my room was a bit of a disaster and actually looks a little as if a tornado really had struck it. Even more shocking is I left it in that state when I walked out the door to attend our staff party. Ah well. We have one more day after all.....

I did get my class gift today. I got seriously lucky this year: no smelly lotions, mugs or hideous jewlery. I received a beautiful album filled with letters my students wrote me. And gift certificates-- American Express Gift Certificates. Like I said: seriously lucky this year! Those gift certificates are totally going to justify the massage I was thinking about getting. I deserve it after all. I just spent a year with twenty three third graders!
One more day.....

Four days....

Even though it doesn't feel like it lately here in chilly CT, summer really is just around the corner. Or rather, summer vacation. We are at the point in the year where pretty much everything is done, and teachers have the same conversation every morning in the hall:
"What are you doing in math today? Anything good?"
"I was thinking multiplication bingo, but maybe we'll just skip that and illustrate our published books for an hour instead. Third graders can color for an hour, right?"
"Sure they can.....what should I do? Forget it, I'm going to watch a movie!"

That's right folks, anyone who thinks REAL learning is taking place at this point in the year is sadly mistaken. (Which is why, incidentally, snow days should not be added on to the end of the year. You don't actually make up the learning that you miss in the winter. You just have to babysit an extra few days when you'd so much rather be at the beach.)
I did manage to impress a colleague when I told her that my students were still doing book clubs. Some of them are still publishing their poetry anthologies too. She couldn't believe I was still teaching curriculum and even asked in a rather awed voice, how are you doing that?!

Four days and counting--and two of those are half days!.....the To-Do list is shrinking, although not nearly quickly enough for my liking. The students energy level is growing and the teachers are desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control these last days.

Just one reason why I'm counting

It's like they've forgotten things that I've already talked about thousands of times before. Here's an example:

Me: Everyone put your science packet in your green science folder. (They've had this folder all year long and they have put things in it for science all year long!)
Me: OK, put your work in your science folder.
Me: Once your work is in your green science folder, line up for P.E.

A student, waving his science packet in his hand, with his green science folder open on his desk: Mrs. S, where do I put this?

Me: AAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (O.K., I didn't actually scream, but I wanted to!)

Countdown

10 days!

Yes, I really am counting....I am also desperately trying NOT to think about everything I have to do before those ten days are up. Believe it or not, I still have assessments to administer (not because I'm a slacker and waited to the last minute mind you, but because my district decided that it was a fantastic idea to administer FOUR math fluency tests that have to be administered, scored and entered into our database), poetry books to publish (that's typical), files to organize (reading AND writing AND math AND cumulative folders), report cards to give (they are all getting Very Goods I decided), room parent gifts to create, parties to organize and attend.....the list continues but like I said, I'm trying not to think about it.

Thirteen things every teacher should know

1. Teaching is not a 9-5 job. Not only do you have lessons to plan, papers to correct, data to enter, report cards to fill out, open house presentations to prepare, conferences to get ready for....but you also have the kids. They stay with you, 24-7. You will go home and tell stories about them. There will always be at least one that you will worry about what they're doing when they walk out that classroom door. It doesn't matter if you are in the richest or the poorest district in the world....there will always be the kids.
2. Since there will always be the kids to think about, worry for and plan lessons for- one of the hardest lessons you will learn as a teacher is that there is only so much you can do in a day, or a year. Eventually, the school bell rings, the year ends....and they are gone; these kids you fell in love with. And there's nothing you can do except accept your successes....or your failures.
3. It is the only job in the world where you have to time your beverage consumption to match your schedule. Don't start drinking coffee at 8:00 if your first break isn't until 12:20 because you'll have a serious problem. Unless you can poke your head out the door and catch some unsuspecting adult to stand in your classroom while you sprint down the hall to the nearest bathroom.
4. Since everyone has earned an education, everyone has an opinion about education. It doesn't matter if they are fresh out of college, or 60 years young, they all know the best way you can do your job or the easiest way for the government to run your school. It also doesn't matter if the curriculum has changed dramatically since they were in school (which I can almost guarantee it has)! Because gosh darn it, if it worked for them and they're OK, then why can't it work for kids today?
5. Teachers can in fact predict when the moon is full. Check the noise level of your classroom or the behavior of your students.
6. There will be days when you will cheer, days when you will cry in frustration, days when you throw up your hands in exasperation....but there will never, ever, be a boring day.
7. Lysol spray, Clorax wipes and hand soap. Use them often, love them dearly.
8. Just when you've figured out how to teach something- it will change. You will just be comfortable and confident and feel like maybe next year will be a tad easier and someone will come along with New Research! Better practices! Good Ideas! Suddenly, you find yourself elbow deep in new curriculum to learn.
9. You will be sneezed on, you will witness students throwing up, you will see gushing blood. You will carry epipens and pray you never have to use them. You will learn about conditions like epilepsy, bipolar disorder, fetal alcohol syndrom, allergies, tourettes, asbergers, ADD and juvenile diabetes. You will feel foreheads, support hurt ankles and distribute more bandaids in a year than you even imagined. And you will do it all with a smile and a calm attitude because you know full well that the minute you lose it, so will your students.
10. Stickers. Even fifth graders love them. Just make sure you have a large variety because you will run out, or get bored with them.
11. Every teacher needs a bag of tricks. Ways to get the class to quiet down, to walk from one point to another in an orderly fashion, to go from one lesson to the next without too much disruption. Learn several tricks, then learn even more because after awhile, the same tricks won't work anymore.
12. You can never have enough thank you cards.
13. You will receive mugs and smelly lotion and really hideous jewelry. You might even get lucky enough to receive used gifts. Don't take it personally. Some parents really do think you want to wear a neon green necklace that you'd never be caught dead in while walking around smelling like watermelon.
    

I swear I don't make this stuff up!

I couldn't EVEN make this stuff up. Here's the latest edition of Overheard in a /Third Grade Classroom:

Me: Alright everyone, use your geoboards to create a quadrilateral with more than one line of symmetry. (For those of you who don't teach third grade that's a four sided shape that when folded or cut in half is equal on both sides.)

The students begin creating quadrilaterals and holding them up to show me. One student holds up a shape that is clearly not a quadrilateral.

Me: N, how many sides does your shape have?

N: (Hitting his forehead in consternation.) Oh, oops.

D: (Looking over his shoulder at N's work.) N, you created a sex-alateral.

Me: Who knows the name of a six sided figure?

LAST weekend in review

I don't really understand how people manage to post every day. I know I'm busy and I have a problem saying no and am involved in too many things but how in the world to people find time to post every day??? I have this problem where sometimes I have weeks where I have TONS of good ideas to post but am too busy to get to it....then I have other weeks where I have no good ideas and I'm suffering from the people-aren't-interested-in-what-I-have-to-say syndrome and I don't post for AGES. Either way, I have zero time for posting every day. How do you do it!?!

That rant wasn't actually the point of this post....this post was going to be about last weekend. Of course, now it is Saturday of a new weekend so I'm a little tardy....see above paragraph!
Last weekend my family headed to Boston to stay at a very quaint inn. Russ and I drove up Friday night and of course, since we are both horrible with directions, managed to get lost. In the rain. And the dark. Several phone calls later, we arrived, after missing dinner at my brother's place. (Only later did I find out that the GPS that we own was in fact in the car, and not at home as we thought, and was also charged.) So we ventured forth to find a restaurant...on foot. I forgot how easy it is in the city-to just walk out your door, hang a left, and within a block, have at least five different choices of places to eat.
Saturday dawned rainy and gray so we decided to take the girls to the Children's Museum. It was full of running, screaming children, being trailed by their parents who were clearly trying to keep their toddlers busy on a rainy weekend. The noise aside, it was so fun to watch my two favorite nieces discover and explore the museum. They bounced from one activity to another and their curiousity seemed endless, as did their energy!
We separated around lunch time, with Russ, Dad, Greg and I heading to Fenway to catch a Red Sox game. I've been dying to go to a baseball game for awhile and had never been to Fenway before so I was thrilled, despite the drizzle, to go. I even got to eat a Fenway frank, sing Take me out the Ballpark and experience the Red Sox winning a game!
Next we all met up for some yummy Vietnamese food. The girls behaved amazingly well, but when they started crawling under the table to curl up and sleep, we knew it was time to go. Sunday morning dawned and we all headed to my brother's place for brunch, before heading back to CT.

It was so great to be in the city for a weekend. It was a nice reminder of how fun the city can be.....there is always something to do, somewhere to go....and it is easy to get anywhere, quickly! It was also a nice reminder of how much I love living in suburbia. We came home to sunshine, green grass, birds singing and the sun reflecting off our lake. I may have to get in my car to go for every errand, but I do so love my little house. It was also fun to be with my whole family. Those moments where we are all together, in one place, seem to happen less and less frequently. When they do I am reminded of just how lucky I am.

Neighborhood

You know the Leave it to Beaver type shows? The ones where every family is perfect, they eat dinner together every night and they live in a neighborhood where everyone says good morning on their way out the door?
That is our neighborhood.
Let me tell you a few snippets to illustrate just how fantastic our neighborhood is:

First of all, when we moved in, we were instantly greeted by our next door neighbor. He (and his wife) checked in regularly on our progress and offered tools and supplies regularly. Our neighbors down the street baked a tasty treat and delivered it to our door. Yup. Homemade baked goods to welcome us to the neighborhood.

A month or so after moving in, another neighbor brought us a gorgeous flower from her backyard welcoming us to the area.

When the first winter snow hit, some boys knocked on our door and offered to shovel our driveway for us.

Now that it is spring, the neighborhood has come alive again. Everyone is taking walks with their dogs or their children (or both). Many are gardening, planting, weeding etc on a regular basis. And many more are stopping their work for a friendly chat, or strolling over to a neighbors house to visit. I myself have walked across the street to deliver some cookies to two of our neighbors.

Sometimes I can't believe how lucky we are to live where we do. Not only do we get a lake view but we also get amazingly friendly neighbors who have quickly become good friends that we enjoy hanging out with. Other times, I'm confused by the Leave-it-to-Beaver-ness of our area. I can't help but wonder, do these quaint little pockets of true neighborhoods still exist? It all feels almost surreal to us....
Apparently they do. And I am the lucky lady who gets to live in one!

Thirteen

Thirteen Things you may not know about me: (Many thank to NPW for the idea!)

1. My biggest pet peeve is when people leave windshield wipers on long after the rain has stopped. The squeaking sound the wipers make as they slide across the glass makes me feel equivalent to the way others feel when nails are dragged across a chalkboard. (Which, interestingly, doesn't bother me at all.) Another sound that makes me feel the same way is metal forks dragged across glass plates.

2. I was once two seconds away from being arrested and hauled off to jail. Rather than being mortified by this, I'm actually a little proud. We were protesting in college, staging a sit in, and only the threat of expulsion got most of us out of the building. The best part about this story is that when I called my parents to let them know what was going on, my dad was proud of me and volunteered to pay my bail.

3. I like the colors red and yellow. Not as much for the colors as for the feelings I associate with those colors: fiery passion and sunshiny happiness.

4. The most amazing thing I've experienced thus far in my life was watching the birth of my second niece, Cosette. There are no words to explain what it is like to watch a miracle happen right before your eyes.

5. The books on my book shelves have evolved: they started out organized by height. Next, I went alphabetical when I moved in with hubby, but visual disorder of all of those mixed up heights somehow never worked for me. Now, they are shoved in any which way. Some by height, most just all mixed up. I still don't know which way I like best.

6. I hate walking on grates in sidewalks. I have an inexplicable fear that I will fall through them and land either in some nasty sludge-like sewer or fall all the way through and break all the bones in my body. This seemingly irrational fear was made all the more real when I heard of a colleague falling through a grate in Cape Cod.

7. I am a serious creature of habit. Before I leave school, three things have to be done: my morning work passed out, the schedule changed and the message written. Sometimes I interchange the message with copying homework. If those things are not done I have a bizarre panicky feeling when I'm driving to work the next day. Also, I have to do the same things in the morning--wake up, make breakfast and lunch for the two of us, shower, get dressed and leave. If I do things in a different order I inevitably forget something and it throws me off all day long.

8. I say "Have a nice lunch" to all of my students every day. I also say, "Have a great afternoon" at the end of the day. I also count how many say it back to me. It's my little social experiment. Last year, roughly half a dozen of my kids would respond. This year, although I get more hugs at the end of the day than last year, I receive very few verbal responses--it usually hovers around two to three.

9. I have a problem with email. My inbox is cluttered. I have messages from September still sitting in there, largely because I'm not quite sure what to do with them. I get a ton of emails every day (when I wasn't in school the other day I logged on to find over fifty and I thought that was a quiet day!) and sometimes when there are forwards or links or photos, they just stay in my inbox....

10. I don't drink beer. I hate the taste of it in fact. Sometimes I wish I did drink beer, it would make things easier in social situations, but every time I try, I am reminded of just how much I hate the taste. I also don't drink coffee. On the rare occasion I can drink coffee when it is 30% coffee, 50% hot chocolate, and 20% cream, with a little bit of sugar.

11. I say certain words funny. Mayonnaise and comfortable. Don't ask me to say them next time we chat, I'll be on to you and I won't be able to say them at all. Just listen carefully and you'll hear it...

12. I like revisiting movies. There are a few I can watch over and over, and I will do so often. Particularly on a Sunday evening when I am planning out my week of lessons.

13. I secretly would love to own a hedgehog one day. They don't do much, and you can't exactly cuddle or play with them, but if you've ever held one (with gloves on) and watched them curl up into a tiny ball, then you'd understand a little better this bizarre desire of mine.

Overheard...

Overheard in my classroom recently:

A student stumbling through the word pianist....stuttering, stumbling and, in general, mispronouncing the word....

Another student, from a few feet away-and thus in a slightly louder voice:
"I know that word, isn't it penis?"

Me: "I think you mean the word pianisT" (Heavy emphasis on the T there. And then, a repeat, just in case I wasn't heard the first time.) PianisT.
I seriously can't even make this stuff up.

Nonnie

On Wednesday, April 11, 2007, my Nonnie died.

Even writing those words hurts....

I told my Mom, and then my sister, that the world doesn't feel the same.

It still doesn't feel the same.

Even though she was ill for quite awhile, she was still here. With us.

It's funny how life goes on--even though the world doesn't feel the same, you wake up every morning and shower and dress and go to work and cook dinner and do laundry and do all the things a person has to do in the course of an ordinary life. And then something small will happen, you'll be shopping at TJ Maxx and automatically turn to the 2X section to look for something for Nonnie, and then it hits you again. Or you'll be cooking dinner one night, and pull out a pepper and remember that even after she had her first stroke, when she couldn't stand or move very well, she would make you stuffed pepper after stuffed pepper because it was one of the few things she still could do for you, and she didn't know how to not care for the people she loved most.

When she had her first stroke a few years ago, I started praying. Selfish prayers, which is not typical for me. I prayed every Sunday, and often during the week, that Nonnie would live to see me get married. Self- centered, I know, but it was what I wanted in the bottom of my heart.

And she made it.

Not only did she make it, but she walked down the aisle, and stood on the dance floor during our anniversary dance. For me. Because I asked her to. Because she loved me that much.

And for that I am forever grateful.

I remember, as she started to weaken, and as dementia took more and more of her mind, crying because I didn't want that Nonnie to be the one that stayed in my memory. Selfish again, I know. I've learned a lot since those tears. One thing I learned is that even though her body was frail and failing, her mind, her personality, was as sharp, and as Nonnie-like, as ever. I also learned that even though Nonnie in her last days is a part of my memory, what is an even stronger part of my memory is MY Nonnie. The one who made me bread and tomatoes when I was younger, who had a garden that stretched for miles, who always sent me away with my car laden with food. The Nonnie who had a basement that seemed almost magical in the foods that it could produce. The one who apologized to me every Christmas and birthday because she couldn't give me more. The Nonnie who, as I got older, lectured me on how to live as a good wife and a better daughter and sister. The Nonnie that made special Easter bread baskets with the egg magically baked in the middle. The Nonnie that loved me until the end.

And even now, as I type this with tears streaming down my face, I am also smiling....because I truly am blessed to have a Nonnie.

Top ten list

Top ten things NOT to do during a parent/teacher conference:

1) Don't automatically assume the teacher will be able to accommodate your schedule. Remember, you are making one, or two or even three conference appointments, but we are making as many as twenty three. We will try very hard to accomdate you, but please don't get mad at us if we can't. And please, please, confirm your appointment as soon as possible. Not the day before. And if we track you down for the second or even third time to confirm, have the decency to reply.

2) Don't show up late. We know you are busy. You have children, and jobs, and babysitter issues, and car troubles and goodness knows what else. But so does the teacher. We manage to show up on time, with a carefully organized folder of your child's work and a sheet written out about their progress to date. If we can do all that, then please, show up on time.

3) Don't try to read the notes that the teacher has made. We will communicate everything on those notes to you.

4) If the directions from the principal are specific and clearly state that you are NOT to request a teacher for next year by name, then follow the directions. Just like we tell your children, the same rules apply to you that apply to everyone else. Plus, then the teacher is placed in the awkward position of having to explain the entire placement process and inform you that, just like in life, there are no guarantees.

5) Don't assume that we can control things that are far out of our control: such as the arrival of the CMT scores. We have no idea when they'll show up. They are the STATE mastery tests, not the SCHOOL mastery tests. We'll get them the same time you do.

6) Don't tell us it's not our job to handle social problems that arise. First of all, we would never presume to tell you what is and isn't in your job description and secondly, if it happens in the classroom, during the seven and a half hours we are with your child, then it IS our job. Teaching and learning can't happen if children are not able or ready to learn or be taught. So it is very much our job to handle it when your child gets upset because their friend wouldn't play with them at recess.

7) Don't walk into the classroom and poke around the teacher's desk when she isn't in the room. Again, we would never presume to walk into your office and poke through your things. Why would you?

8) Don't keep talking after another parent has knocked on the door TWICE, and the teacher has offered to meet with you at another time to continue the conversation about your child. As mentioned in #1, we are meeting with as many as twenty three parents.

9) Don't ask us to make parenting decisions for you. Some of us aren't even parents yet, nor are we the parents of your child. We don't know if you should buy your child a computer, or if they should watch more or less TV, or if you should discipline them more or less, or any of the other countless parenting decisions you ask us to make. YOU are the parent, you make those decisions.

10) And please, please, please, don't put the teacher in the middle of your marriage spat. Don't tell us to communicate something to your divorced spouse, don't ask us a question in the hopes that our answer will resolve a disagreement you are having, don't flat out tell us you are disagreeing and you want our opinion. That is definitely NOT in our job description.

CMT's

My little group of darlings made it through the hell that is the CMT's. It was hard. It was hard for them to sit still for 60 minutes at a time, it was hard for me not to cringe when I noticed they were doing a problem incorrectly, it was hard for them to not turn pencils into drum sticks, or nails to be driven into their erasers, or walrus tusks, or... but the hardest part, the part that goes against everything that makes me a teacher, is when they raise their hands and say, "Mrs. S. I don't get this question." And my response has to be, simply, "Reread the question." Then, when they ask me if I'd read it for them I have to tell them I can't. I can't tell you how much it broke my heart to see their little shoulders slump and their faces fall when they realized that their teacher couldn't help them at all. Couldn't even read a question for them. Of course, my sadness quickly turned to frustration when some of them finished in only 20 minutes. And my frustration turned to pure annoyance when I discovered that those same students wrote one sentence responses to reading comprehension questions. One sentence!
All that aside, one of the moments that made me happiest in the midst of the painful testing was when a parent told me that their child didn't feel very anxious. She went on to say that her daughter really listened when I explained that I didn't do well on these kind of tests and it made her feel a lot better. (Nothing like putting myself down to make my students more comfortable!)
Now that the testing is over, I'm encountering another problem that I had forgotten about. So much of our time the last month and a half has been taken up with test preparation or test taking that my students seem to have forgotten what it is like to have a "normal" day in the classroom. I feel like I'm back in September: revisiting and naming all of our rules. Reminding them how things work. No, you can't get up in the middle of my minilesson to sharpen your pencil. No, you can't have a ten minute conversation about what game you'll play at recess in the middle of reading. Yes, you have to do homework again and actually hand it in. It feels like, even though it's almost April and I am thinking about turning them over to the fourth grade teachers, we are back to the beginning of third grade. Let's just hope the tests didn't also cause them to forget all the things they've learned thus far.

Santas, Fairies and Leprechauns, Oh My!

Being a teacher definitely keeps you up on the latest trends, and little kid fairytales. We've all heard of Santa Claus, that jolly fella who visits Christmas Eve and leaves presents if you are good. And of course, everyone knows the elusive lady herself--the Tooth Fairy. I'm sure I'm not the only kid who went to sleep wondering what in the world she did with all of those teeth! But have you heard, dear blogging world, of leprechauns? No, no, not the kind that frolick about near the proverbial pot o' gold. But leprechauns who visit houses, cause mischief and mayham and maybe leave behind a little sweet treat in the form of gold coins? Well, apparently they do exist. Or so I was informed today but at least ten of my current third graders.
One student solemnly reported that, while his entire family, except his Mom and dog, was away from home, a leprechaun rearranged all the furniture in the playroom and caused the dog to bark uncontrollably. Another let me know that the leprechaun that visited their house turned toilet water green and left gold coins scattered throughout the house. A third is hopeful that she caught a picture of the little guy after setting up what sounded like an elaborate Rube-Goldbergesque trap to take a photo. One student told an awed class that he caught the leprechaun but when he went to open his hands there was a gold coin instead. One more student awoke to Irish soda bread crumbs sprinkled all over the table and shamrock stickers affixed to all the slumbering members of the household.
Move over Santa....hold on Tooth Fairy, there's a new gig in town. And far be it from me to dash any hopes of eventually catching, or even spotting, the elusive little people in green!

Everything

People go into teaching for different reasons...to make a difference, work with children, learn every day....no one ever goes into it for the money! What you don't realize until you are teaching--at least at the elementary level--is that you will become The World to these little people.

It's funny, I forget that sometimes. I forget just how much I mean to them. Then something will happen and all of a sudden it will hit me--these little guys look up to me so much. For one year of their life I am everything. OK, OK, I'm not crazy enough to think I'm as important as say, an uncle or a cousin.....but I'm definitely pretty darn important to them.

Today that point was driven home to me. It was nearing the end of the day, I had ten minutes to kill, so we decided to make paper fortune tellers to practice our multiplication facts. (Anything to make multiplication fun!) One of my students knew how to fold the paper (thank goodness too, because I certainly didn't. I had the directions, but really, it's so much easier to get one of the kids to show everyone!). So I invited him to come to the front of the class to be the teacher. He got started on his directions, and a colleague walked in. I stood in the back of the room and kept an eye out while I chatted away. What I saw was this little guy, rather shy and reserved, but well behaved, undergo a transformation. He turned into me. He started using my words, he even walked around the way I do and he (and this cracked me up) even threatened to pull out our yellow cards! (Classroom management system: one yellow card = warning, face down = time out, second yellow card = loss of recess minutes). I started laughing to see this little shy guy imitate me, but later on I realized just how carefully they notice, just how much they see and just how much they internalize. I mean--he turned into me. Crazy. It reminds me that for one year of their lives, I really am Everything.

Two worlds collide

That's right, I took the plunge....I created a blog for my students. I'm sure some of you are surprised by this seeing as how I don't post all that frequently on my blog, nor do I read nearly as many as I wish I could. But that's just it, see....I love my blog. I love reading other blogs. If I had more time then I'd definitely post more, and comment more, and search out more amazing blogs. But something always gets in the way... cleaning the house, planning a lesson, cooking dinner, correcting papers, calling a friend, paying bills....you know, life things. However, the first time blogging was mentioned at a meeting I was sitting at in school, I jumped. Blogging?!? Something fun and neat and totally new?? In my classroom?? Sign ME up!
And I did it too. This didn't become one of those hazy "yeah I really want to do that but we'll see if I get around to it eventually" things (which is what often happens after a professional development meeting). I actually did it. I created a blog for my students. And they are actually using it! More importantly, they seem to be enjoying using it! Yay for me!
Here's the problem: whenever you do anything that is cutting edge: someone comes along and wants you to share it. Suddenly you are The Expert and everyone should come and talk to YOU. Better yet, you should give a presentation in front of hundreds of other educators so they can see just how easy! fun! educational! advanced! it is. Not only are colleagues now asking me technical questions that I honestly don't have the answer to, but I've somehow been talked into doing a whole presentation on blogging and literacy at a conference in Cromwell. (Trust me, I did try to say no to this one. I know some of you don't believe me, knowing my penchant for agreeing with everything, but really really I tried to say no. Actually, when asked, my first response was, literally, "eek! I'm not ready for that!" But the woman was rather persistent and literally followed me around one Friday morning at breakfast and kept talking. And talking. And talking. Until I had to say yes just to get her to stop. Very effective tool I might add--the talking. But I DID say No. Sigh.) So, now of course the thought of presenting in front of goodness knows how many educators has me panicked (OK, OK, it's not until next November, but that means I really need to work out all the kinks with this class, so next year it's up and running smoothly by November) and thrown me into a bit of a tizzy. Suddenly I felt the need to clarify my educational objectives, identify my student goals, reconfigure my blog....suddenly, it feels a little bit more like work and a little bit less like fun. But at least it's still blogging, right?

Where I've been....

It's been awhile I know....I swear, I want to post more regularly, but well.....things just get in the way. In my defense, I was away for a week. Here was my home away from home:

Notice the color of the water? We were in the Caribbean after all, where the water really is a shade of aquamarine you can't see on the East Coast. The ship, Legend of the Seas, departed from Tampa, Florida and sailed to Grand Caymen, Cozumel, Belize and Costa Maya. I'll admit I was initially nervous, unexpectedly cold weather and a rocky start left many of the passengers (myself included!) shivering and trying to keep from running to the nearest bathroom. But things calmed down, and warmed up, the very next day and the rest of the trip was filled with sunshine, warmth and adventures.

We managed to do an excursion at every stop; except for our first one, but only because it was cancelled. My all time favorite was riding at ATV through a rainforst in Belize. C'mon, how many people can say they've done THAT in their lifetime?

There I am, ready to go. Just like the cruise, I initially had some difficulty. To hear my husband tell it, I crashed into a tree. My side of the story is that the tree jumped in the way. Actually, there was no crashing involved....just a little problems with the brakes and the steering. Driving an ATV is not at all like driving a car....it's the gentlest of touches to make the vehicle move where you want it to, and a backward push with your right heel to make yourself stop. Once I got those two things straight in my head, I was fantastic. It just took me a few tries. Hey, there's one in every group, right!?! Halfway through our ATV ride, we climbed a rather steep staircase to a cave, where, before we entered, we were handed headlamps. We then proceeded to tild our bodies almost horizontal and wiggle our way into a cave to see some Mayan ruins. I was too busy wiggling to get a picture of the entrance, but here's another shot....

OK, so that is not actually Mayan ruins, but it is a really cool stalagtite that we all, tourists that we are, took a picture next too. See the headlamps? Yup, I wasn't joking about those! Here's some Mayan pottery that we saw in that very same cave.

Pretty neat, huh? To think, that pottery has been sitting there, for thousands of years.....just waiting. We also found something else waiting--a tiny fruit bat. He was adorable, and didn't even blink an eye when the guide shined his laser light in his face and the crazy tourists took pictures of him. Nor did he move when the teenage girls that were with us freaked out and started screaming THAT THEY ABSOLUTELY WOULD NOT TAKE ANOTHER STEP OH MY GOD THERE IS A BAT YOU NEVER SAID THERE WOULD BE ANIMALS IN THE RAINFOREST I DON'T LIKE NATURE DO YOU SEE THE BAT IT IS RIGHT THERE AND I AM NOT MOVING GET ME OUT OF HERE. The guide even handled the hysterics, while the rest of us discreetly rolled our eyes and kept trekking.

Another day we got to see some more Mayan ruins. Here we are at Cozumel, checking out some temples built by the Mayans. (Can you tell I married a history teacher!?!?)

See how tiny I look compared to the temple?

How in the world did they get

all those stones up so high!?!

And of course, what cruise would be complete without some friends dropping by for a visit?

All in all, we had a fantastic time, and even better, came home to an extra day off- because of SNOW!

I'm it!

I got my first tag ever, from Kelli. So here goes!

Available/single?: Happily married for a year and a half now.

Best friend?: I am blessed with many friends that are dear to my heart.... however, there is one that has been there since third grade, through all the ups and downs that life throws at a person: Ness.

Cake or pie?: Do I really have to choose? I like a good apple pie, warm with ice cream. But I love the fruity cakes my sister always makes for my birthday too....guess I can't choose!

Drink of choice?: Hot tea in the morning, water with lemon throughout the day, juice at night. When I'm sick- Canada dry ginger ale. A nice glass of red wine or an apple martini is pretty yummy too.

Essential item you use every day?: A pencil. (I do teach third grade after all!)

Favorite color?: Yellow....and red.

Gummy bears or worms?: Bears definitely, although anyone who knows me well knows that I love gummy peaches best of all. Oh, and those gummies you get at Jerry Sans sushi when your meal is over.

Hometown?: Woodbridge, CT

Indulgence?: Anytime I ignore the piles of school work and read or watch T.V. is pretty much an indulgence.

January or February?: February, I have a vacation then.

Kids and their names?: Don't have kids yet, although we do have names but you'll have to wait, we're not sharing.

Life is incomplete without?: My husband, our families.

Marriage date?: July 16, 2005

Number of siblings?: 2, older sister, younger brother.

Oranges or apples?: Apples.

Phobias or fears?: Huh. I guess I don't really have any big ones. I hate moths. I used to be afraid that my Nonnie wouldn't be alive when I got married, but I was blessed to have her at my wedding.

Quotes?: This is a tough one too. I don't really have a favorite, but here's one I like:
"The courage to teach is the courage to keep one's heart open in those very moments when the heart is asked to hold more than it is able so that teacher and students and subject can be woven into the fabric of community that learning, and living, require." Parker J. Palmer

Reason to smile?: There are so many reasons! Waking up next to the man I love, the smiles and hugs I get from my nieces when they see me, eating a good dinner with family, when my cats snuggle up next to me, hearing my students get excited about something I'm teaching them, waking up to a day of sunshine and blue skies, vacation, looking out my window and seeing the sun set over the lake in our backyard...I could go on....

Season?: Summer. Definitely!

Tag people?: Tina, Dianna

Unknown fact about me?: My biggest pet peeve is when windshield wipers are left on, long after it's stopped raining. Apparently this even bothers me over the phone, as my husband and I discovered recently!

Vegetable you dislike?: Broccoli rabe. Too bitter for me. Fennel also.

Worst habit?: Picking my lips.

X-Rays you've had?: Just the standard ones at the dentist.

Your favorite food?: Hard to pick just one, but I'd have to say my Mom's homemade sauce. I like Filet Mignon too.

Zodiac sign?: Leo

Cruising along

My husband and I are going on a cruise in twelve more days. That's right, twelve more days and we will be sailing through the western Caribbean, stopping off at Belize City, Cozumel, Grand Cayman.....turquoise water, sunshine and blue skies are all just a few short days away.

The cruise, in its initial planning stages, was meant to be our last vacation before we had our baby. Seeing as how things aren't working out the way I'd prayed, it is just going to be a vacation for vacation's sake. A trip we gifted to ourselves because darn it, we work hard and we deserve a vacation.

Funny thing, pregnancy. I naively thought it would be easy. Why wouldn't it be when I have overwhelming evidence that it is easy. So many cousins, on both sides of my family, who seemed to get pregnant without any trouble at all. I thought we try, we are blessed with a baby. Then again, this naivete might be something that, at some point in my schooling, was drilled into my head--you know, the health class in high school where the boys are rowdy and making all sorts of inappropriate comments and the girls are sitting straight and tall, trying to act more mature than the boys (said with disgust and a shaking of the head). I seriously believed it would be that easy. I seriously believed one month, maybe two, and then I'd be on my way to being pregnant. No one ever tells you the other statistics....not until you actually start trying. Then all of a sudden, there are all of these facts that you've never heard of before. What do you mean it takes an average of nine to twelve months to conceive? That's not what they said in high school health class. No, no, no, it only takes one time to get pregnant.

Well....apparently it does take nine to twelve months. Apparently it doesn't work out the first time you start trying. No matter how much you are hoping and wishing and praying. No matter how many ovulation predictor tests you take, or cycle calendars you print out... Know what else they don't tell you? That it doesn't get easier. You want it to. You want to not be sad every time you discover you aren't pregnant. But somehow, in some deep corner of you, you are sad. And just a little bit disappointed. And just a little bit guilt-ridden.
Luckily, I am a glass half-full kind of person, so all those feelings don't last long. And I return to my usual cheery disposition, with the knowledge, no, the faith, that I will get pregnant. It does only take one time. One miracle.

Peace.

My husband is sitting on the couch with his best friend, strumming on his guitar and singing the song that he sang to me on our wedding day.

Cookies are baking in the oven.

Our two cats are snuggled up on nearby matching chairs, not hissing for once.

We had a successful day of shopping for clothes--including a new suit!- for our upcoming cruise (only 14 more days!).

It is simple moments like these when I look around at my life and I feel at peace. All is right with the world and I, I am so blessed......

Why I'm called Wednesday....

So, when I was a child, my parents nicknamed me (among other things) Wednesday. I'm sure it had something to do with being the middle child, always wanting to be in the middle, being the non-confrontational one, being the peacemaker....all of these things. A recent example to illustrate me being my Wednesday-ist (I just invented a word I think!) went something like this:

We are sitting in church, my Mom, Dad and I-- this is a weekend event for us and one that I cherish. We've (surprisingly) managed to get ourselves there early enough that we have a few minutes to sit quietly in the pew and my Mom decides to try to convince me to come out to breakfast with them after church. I am, of course, sitting in the middle, so I lean over to my Dad, after agreeing to the breakfast, and whisper, "Mom wants to go to breakfast after church." My Dad, who knew that the initial plan was for me to go to church then head home so that I could return to their house later in the evening for dinner, whispers back, with a grin, "She's a force of nature, isn't she?" I smile at him while my Mom nudges me and asks what he said. Without missing a beat I lean over and say, "Dad's excited about breakfast." My Dad, of course, starts laughing, while my Mom insists that it didn't sound like that's what he said. My turn to smile as I say, "I translated for you!"
See? Wednesday.

Add weather forcaster to my job description...

The other day I walked down the hall with a colleague lamenting over the atrocious behavior that seems to be occurring with some regularity lately and wondering aloud what was going on. Had I taken the time to think about it I would have figured it out really quickly: it's a full moon.

Teachers are known to be a mom, a counselor, a cheerleader, a mentor and a nurse among other hats that we wear....well, you can add weather woman to that list as well. Any teacher will tell you that their students are directly impacted by the fullness of the moon and the onset of any large weather system. With a full moon AND the potential for our first "real" snowstorm on Friday I would have been better off throwing in the towel before the week began. Needless to say, it's been a week of The Lecture. You know the one I'm sure. Or you could remember it if you thought back to your own elementary school days. The ones that silenced the room and caused everyone (for five minutes at least) to tiptoe around whispering. There is never yelling....but don't you agree it's almost worse? Nope, just the Firm Voice. The I'm-Not-Joking-Around-Voice. It usually does the trick. But not on a full moon week. Forget it.

Just wish me luck for our lock down drill tomorrow....who knows what a rambunctious bunch of third graders will do when told we have to lock ourselves in our classroom and stay quietly away from all windows and doors. Oh wait, our whole WALL is windows? That's right, I meant, stay quietly huddled in the middle of the classroom.....like I said, wish me luck.