Thirteen firsts

Thirteen firsts....

1) My first year teaching, I cried in front of my students. (Not my proudest or best teaching moment, but, it was a first.)

2) My first dance recital costume was a teeny tiny greenish bikini and a yellow stuffed animal duck. (I still have that costume too. I think I can fit one finger in the leg hole.)

3) My first car I ever bought was a VW Jetta. (Ah, the beauty of financing!)

4) The first boy to ever send me flowers, give me Tiffany's or make me feel like the most amazing person just for being me was my husband. (Good thing I married him, huh?)

5) My first car was a Nissan Sentra hatchback. (I loved that little car too, even when the locks started freezing and you had to crawl in through the hatchback!)

6) I got my first kiss after I graduated high school but before I went to college (Thank God). (That's why when I hear stories about my sister in law's boyfriends growing up, I laugh, because I SO did not have that experience!)

7) The first concert I ever went to was New Kids on the Block. (Although my brother would claim it was Natalie Cole.)

8) The first job I ever had was an assistant camp counselor. (Back then I didn't understand the whole different work ethic thing and I didn't get how I, as the assistant, got paid less but somehow did more work.)

9) The first nickname I remember having is skinny banana--which is what my Dad called me.

10) The first (and one of the only) times I ever drank a bit too much was after college AND graduate school. In fact, it wasn't until my first year teaching.

11) Our first house was built by the great grandfather of the man we bought it from. (I personally think that is pretty neat.)

12) My first semester GPA in college was a 3.78. (That didn't last!)

13) The first time I ever ate sushi was with my now husband, at a little sushi restaurant in the Manchester area. Skeptical at first (probably because I hate cooked fish) I now love the stuff.

Blink....blink.....blink.....

That's my title, because that's what the cursor was doing. For the record, it is currently 11:16. I am NOT changing the date/time, it IS still Wednesday. And, no, I'm not usually awake at this point, I fell asleep on the couch, and my husband is away so he wasn't there to wake me up and make me go to bed....so now it is 11:17 and I woke up to go to bed, realized I hadn't posted, and grabbed my laptop.

And, no, that's not my post for the day....that's just an explanation of the time!

I had a really interesting conversation with my teammates today. I think I've written before about how I'm a part of a team that is writing curriculum for reading workshop for my entire grade level to use for the entire year. Folks, this is a HUGE undertaking, and a LOT of work. And, for the record, I have said, on more than one occasion, that I'm uncomfortable being on a team of only four, writing curriculum for 40 something teachers. It's a lot of pressure....the funny thing about being on that team is that people seem almost nervous to critique your work. I know it's not perfect, in fact, I'll be the first to say it's a DRAFT and needs revisions, especially after it's been taught. So, I have a tendency to compensate by critiquing the work myself. I'll dive right in and talk about the problems that I have with the work that is done.

Today, my team and I happened to all be in the copy room by ourselves. One of my colleagues was feeling badly because she had missed the opportunity to fill out a reflection on our last unit. Of course we told her not to worry about it and we mentioned some things we had written on our reflection. I asked her if there was anything specific she would have added and she seemed comfortable with what we had said. Next thing you know, my other teammate launched into a confession of sorts....telling me what she's been doing in reading workshop, or rather, what she hasn't been doing. The funniest thing about that is I think she thought I might critique HER for this. As if, because I'm on this committee I'm some phenomenal teacher that's always doing everything she's supposed to and understands how it's always supposed to work and makes that happen every day. So not the case.

It made me think about perceptions....I'm not much of a person who toots her own horn. I don't go around telling everyone all about all the work we're doing on this curriculum committee. But people know I'm on this committee.....I've presented enough professional developments at this point that it's out there. How am I perceived because of that? Does that make me unapproachable? Does that make people think they can't critique the work that is done? It was funny tonight to notice that my team, the people who should know me best, seemed almost nervous to critique work that I would be the first to say isn't perfect. Critique away folks, goodness knows, I know it isn't perfect!

It's sheer determination keeping me going at this point

Really. The only reason I am 1) awake and 2) posting is because it IS NaBloPoMo and even though some of my posts may have been cheesy, I have managed to post every single day. In case you don't know this about me, I'm a girl who makes a commitment and follows through. I don't really know how to NOT follow through.

But man, oh man, it has been a DAY. Let me break it down for you:

4:45 a.m. The alarm goes off so that my hubby can get ready to leave for Nature's Classroom, where he'll be for the next few days. The alarm clock is on my side of the bed, so I wake up enough to reset it and roll back over. For some bizarre reason the man decides to turn on the overhead light. Why this is a good idea is beyond me. So, I, of course, tell him to turn the light off and he tells me he's getting dressed. Even in my half asleep state I still managed to make the suggestion that he either 1) turn on the hallway light so it won't shine directly on me or 2) get dressed in the closet room (which is what he does every single morning, don't ask me why this morning needs to be different). He turns on the hallway light.

5:30 a.m. I roll out of bed, later than usual. For some reason since I don't have to make lunch or breakfast for Russ, I feel I have extra time and dawdle around the house until it is OH MY GOD 7:00 PANIC GET OUT OF THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW!

8:00 Arrive at school (Soooo late for me, but just in time for:)
8:05 go to a Library Media Technology meeting. Yes, it is exactly what it sounds like.

8:45 The students arrive and they are hyper and chatty and all wound up because it is a field trip. The morning passes uneventfully (except the whole hyper chatty thing) until 11ish when we board the bus for our field trip (Thank goodness the weather cleared up.)

11:00ish to 1:15 Field trip to Mill River. All in all it's a nice trip, the students impress me with how much they remember from a curriculum that we haven't spent that much time on and we return to school on time, only to discover that---

1:15 The cafeteria manager has either 1) not received or 2) disregarded my various emails asking if we can eat lunch later. I now have ten kids without a lunch. A compromise is reached and she serves them pizza. No big deal because most third graders would take pizza over a calzone any day, especially if you take a look at the calzones they serve.
1:30 We eat lunch in our room, including me, which is, for some reason, completely fascinating to some students and they spend at least ten minutes staring at every single bite I eat and telling me it looks good. I shoo them away and then decide to take them outside to get rid of some energy. (Because believe it or not, they still have some!)

Our afternoon progresses without much to report, a short writing time, a quick math game and then some read aloud.
One would hope my day is over.....but no....

4:00 Time for a faculty meeting where we get to review the budget. Looks like I'll have a job (and a new teammate) next year--phew!

4:45 Faculty meeting ends, my friend is on the way over to my school to review our presentation for class one last time. I frantically pass out morning work, put up the schedule for tomorrow and write directions on the board then get to work clearing off my desk.

4:55 Said friend arrives and we begin to plow through our presentation. A few modifications later, we make some changes to our handout. I make new copies, we practice one last time then we realize that we are supposed to resubmit a new project proposal. We throw something together using our old one and dash out the door to eat dinner.

6:00-6:25 Dinner. Breathe.

7:00-10:00 Class. We present our project first and it ends up taking us (oops) close to an hour. However, our professor says we did a great job and called our presentation "phenomenal". I'm jazzed, until she hands out our final (take home) exam which looks like more work than I want to do.

10:00-10:30 Drive home in record time. No, I didn't speed she actually let us out a bit early....
10:30 Begin a horribly boring post about my horribly long day.

Next time someone asks me why I'm tired, I'm going to send them this link.
Is it Friday yet?

Veteran's Day

It figures that my first day back in the saddle....back to teaching everything after a blissful two weeks of not having to prepare or plan or copy anything... well, it just figures that I'd have the kind of day where 1) I was in school on a day where the rest of the world had the day off 2) I lost my special so we could celebrate that day and 3) I'd end the day with a team meeting for one of my students. Nothing like being thrown right back into that fire!

All that aside, today we did observe Veteran's Day in my school. And by observe I mean gather together to sing a bunch of patriotic songs with a few Veterans present. We talked a little bit about the day, and the history of it, but most of the assebly was taken up with singing and introducing the Veterans.

This is one of those days where somehow it became our job as educators to teach our students about the value and the history of this day, but none of us really know how to. Is that horrible? These students I have now..... war is, in one sense, in their vocabulary every single day. Many of them were just toddlers on 9/11 so the Iraq war is all they've ever known, yet they really don't know about the Iraq war. They don't really know about war at all. Even though they are growing up practicing lock down drills right along with fire drills, it doesn't touch their lives in any real way. Which, of course, is a good thing. I can remember being in school, reading about World War II and thinking "My God, my grandfathers fought in that." Same for Vietnam and my father. Knowing loved ones that have lived through what you were reading about in the pages of your history book....well, that made things real in a way nothing else ever was.

I guess I'm not really sure where I'm going with this post.....I certainly don't want my students to know the horrors of war. Nor do I want them to have to live in a world where war is happening, or will happen....but as I sat in that auditorium today, singing Yankee Doodle Dandy, I couldn't help but wonder what the students were actually learning about Veteran's Day. And I couldn't help but think that this is one of those days where I'm failing as an educator. I don't think I taught my students about service, or sacrifice....about loving your country enough that you travel halfway around the world to defend what it stands for....I don't think I taught my students about patriotism. How do you teach a value or a belief system to eight year olds?

Fanksgiving Part 1

I know you have all been *dying* to hear all about Fanksgiving....So, here it is, part one in a two part series.

Russ and I arrived mid afternoon to chill out with Russ' parents, his sister and brother in law and their dear friend Greg. The thing about the beach house (where Fanksgiving is held every year, and where we spend many weekends) is that as soon as you walk in, or, as soon as I walk in, I am instantly relaxed. Something about the ocean right out the window, and the house that has been in the family for years and years and is the center of so many stories, and the fridge and pantry that is always stocked with exactly what you want to eat, and the bed parked right in front of the T.V. with a collection of DVD's, and the trashy magazines scattered throughout the house that you can pick up and flip through....something about all of this and more makes you instantly at ease. So, we walk in, organize some of the appetizers we brought and instantly went about chilling out and catching up.

The other guests started to arrive, and we settled into our predictable routines. The women did some fantastic crafts, organized by my amazingly creative sister in law. While the men settled in to enjoy some other, less creative, pursuits:

What's Thanksgiving (real or fake) without football and beer, right?

Once my parents arrived, my father began a wine tasting, with one of the wines being an award winner (first place even)! He wouldn't tell which one it was though, and interestingly, I don't think anyone guessed it!

Once dinner was ready, we all gathered around the table:

And tucked in to do some serious eating. Turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, sweet potatoes, pineapple bake, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, breads, salad....And I'm not even talking about dessert! For dessert there was pumpkin loaf, homemade apple pie, homemade pear pie and homemade ice cream pie (honey walnut and mint chocolate chip both made by my honey). There was enough food to feed a small army, and although we made a sizable dent, there were still plenty of leftovers for us to bring home the next day!

Dinner ended and we gathered together for the Yankee Swap. I had never heard of this before I met my husband, but it is now one of my all time favorite traditions. My father, a die hard Yankees fan, unwrapped a Red Sox World Champions t-shirt, much to the enjoyment of the crowd. (I have pictures from the Yankee swap that I'll share in part 2, since I don't have my USB drive to connect my camera, the pictures in this post are from my mother in law).

Yankee swap ended, some said their goodbyes and the rest of us changed into cozy clothes and got comfy on the couch to watch some movies.

All in all, it was a fantastic day filled with good food, loved ones and laughter.

Happy Fanksgiving to all!

Last day....

In my excitement to write about Fanksgiving I forgot to mention another important event that happened yesterday....it was my student teacher's last day. Sort of. It was her last day of full take over, and we thought it might be her last official day, but then her supervisor counted the days differently than us (she started later with her count) so her last day was going to be Wednesday. But, now she got hired to be a long term sub in our school....so it looks like Friday might have been her real last day.

That's my long-winded way of telling you that I had two weeks of doing absolutely NO teaching, or planning, or preparing, or copying....and now I am back. To doing everything. Without the extra set of hands that I've had since the beginning of September. With twenty five third graders.

Slightly nervous? Yup. Obviously, I know I can do it.....I'm a teacher, and I've had this many students before. But to go from nothing to everything....it's going to be like the worse culture shock EVER.

I'm also anticipating some clean up work....see, the thing about having a student teacher is that they aren't quite you. They do a lot of the things you do--teach the curriculum you give them, adopt your classroom management system and even start to talk like you. But they still aren't you. My student teacher, as amazing as she is, has let my kids get away with some things that I won't tolerate. Talking all through writing workshop. Leaving the classroom a mess before going to lunch. Talking in line before they even walk out the door. Getting up during a mini lesson. Nothing earth shattering, I know....but enough that for the last week and a half my emails to a colleague have consisted of "I want my class back because...." So, now I have some work to do. Some exhausting, time consuming, frustrating-because-I-don't-want-to-do-this-in-November work to do.


But I am excited to teach again. It's awfully hard to be a teacher and not be teaching. It's REALLY hard in fact. So, at least I get to do that again.


I'm sure on Monday night, my post will be all about how exhausted I am. And how HARD it is to be a third grade teacher. But, for now, I am excited about having my kids back again.

Countdown

Fanksgiving is tomorrow...
What is Fanksgiving you ask? Why, it is Fake Thanksgiving! My wonderful mother in law (I am one of those lucky ladies who adores her mother in law and my father in law and my sister in law and gets along fantastically well with all of them) started this new family tradition once her kids were growing up and getting married. We get together a week or two before real Thanksgiving and celebrate together. The whole she-bang, turkey, stuffing, potatoes, pie....everything. That way, on real Thanksgiving no one is frantically trying to meet up with two families, or coordinate schedules or stuffing themselves until they pass out.

The best part is that this family tradition started out rather small....and has now grown to include my parents and my siblings, my brother in law's parents and siblings and other family members. I think we are up to twenty people this year....

And not only do we eat, but we do crafts! And we do a Yankee Swap! And we sleep over and watch movies! Then eat a yummy breakfast the next day! Wait, back up...what's a Yankee Swap you ask? (I didn't know what it was either, until Fanksgiving!) Well, see, everyone brings a gift, a small gift, under $20. Sometimes (shhhh) even a re-gift. Then we all take numbers. Number 1 chooses any gift they want. Number 2 can either take the gift from number 1, or choose a new gift. Number 3 can either take the gift from number 1 or 2 or choose a new gift. And so it goes....It's great fun, frankly, and if you've never done it, than you should.

So, Fanksgiving is tomorrow! Russ and I are busily preparing ice cream (we are slightly famous for our homemade ice cream, but that's a story for another post) and wrapping Yankee swap gifts and making a few appetizers.

I will be sure to report on all the festivities as they enfold!

How do you know you are a teacher?

by Jeff Foxworthy
(I realize that I'm cheating here but 1) some of these are way too true and I couldn't resist sharing and 2) folks, I went from hardly posting at all to not missing one day so far. Forgive me this one little cheat?)

1. You can hear 25 voices behind you and know exactly which one belongs to the child out of line.
2. You get a secret thrill out of laminating something.
3. You walk into a store and hear the words "It's Ms/Mr. _________" and know you have been spotted.
4. You have 25 people that accidentally call you Mom/Dad at one time or another. (This happens more often than you might think.)
5. You can eat a multi-course meal in under twenty-five minutes. (I'd say 15 minutes.)
6. You've trained yourself to go to the bathroom at two distinct times of the day: lunch and prep period. (Only job in the world where you have to plan when you take sips of water.)
7. You start saving other people's trash, because most likely, you can use that toilet paper tube or plastic butter tub for something in the classroom.
8. You believe the teachers' lounge should be equipped with a margarita machine.
9. You want to slap the next person who says "Must be nice to work 8 to 4 and have summers off." (Oh my Goodness that makes me MAD!)
10. You believe chocolate is a food group. (Wait, it isn't!?!?)
11. You can tell if it's a full moon without ever looking outside. (Sooooo true! So true, in fact that it's a lesson I teach every single one of my student teachers.)
12. You believe that unspeakable evils will befall you if anyone says "Boy, the kids sure are mellow today."
13. You feel the urge to talk to strange children and correct their behavior when you are out in public.
14. You believe in aerial spraying of Ritalin.
15. You think caffeine should be available in intravenous form.
16. You spend more money on school stuff than you do on your own children.
17. You can't pass the school supply aisle without getting at least five items!
18. You ask your friends if the left hand turn he just made was a "good choice or a bad choice."
19. You find true beauty in a can full of perfectly sharpened pencils. (Sadly, this is true too.)
20. You are secretly addicted to hand sanitizer and finally,
21. You understand instantaneously why a child behaves a certain way after meeting his or her parents.

Good deeds

I almost forgot to post today.
I know, I know! I was about to head to bed (after falling asleep on the couch trying to catch up with Tuesday's episode of Dancing with the Stars. Thank God for DVR. Best thing we've purchased in awhile, it took me four tries to get through the show because I kept falling asleep!) when the thought that was tickling the back of my mind finally blossomed--I haven't posted yet!

So, since it is late, and I am tired, you will be subjected to a post that is slightly random, but with a common theme: doing good deeds.

My morning started out with these two emails:
Dear Karen and Lisa,
I just wanted to take a minute and let you know what a great job you both did yesterday. The work that has gone into the unit is amazing and you did such a great job presenting it to the third grade team.
Kudos to you both!!!!!

And:
I find myself looking forward to these PD meetings! I learn so much! I cannot say that about so many other PDS I have attended in twenty years! THANKS for everything!

See, yesterday a colleague and myself presented a professional development- for three hours-in the morning. Now, unlike the pd we presented at the beginning of the year, my colleague (who is not a teacher but a Language Arts Coordinator) did the lion's share of the work preparing for this pd. However, what we were presenting on was the Reading Curriculum work that I have been writing for over a year. A process that has been enlightening and frustrating and difficult and challenging and eye opening and....you get the gist.
I have to say, it's really difficult to stand up in front of every single third grade teacher in the district, and a few paraprofessionals, interns and special education teachers, and share curriculum that you have spent hours and hours writing and analyzing and rewriting and finalizing.... you have to wonder if they'll find the time valuable (our district is notorious for professional development that is a waste of time) and if they'll like the work that you are sharing.

In true pay-it-forward passion- after receiving these emails I bumped into another colleague who, at an afternoon meeting yesterday, had a bit of a breakdown. So I asked her how she was, and if I could do anything....she didn't want to talk much since she was in such a rough spot, and she had to run off, but as she was leaving, she mentioned that she didn't get her tea. Well, I went and made her some tea and brought it up to the classroom she was visiting. And then I got this email:
Lisa,
I just got back to my office and was sitting down to write you a note. You just blew me away with your kindness. It is always amazing how something small, like bringing me the tea, has changed my thinking and my day. Thank you so very much.
Thank you again for being my friend.

These emails made me feel so good. Good about the hours upon hours and the tons of frustration I've gone through with the reading curriculum committee, and good about noticing a friend that was having a rough day and trying to cheer her up. Why don't I do this more often? Say Thank you more often...Tell people who help me out that I appreciate their work....tell a friend that I'm glad they are my friend....I need to do that more. It made me feel so good just to get these emails....imagine how good it could make others feel.

Tales from my world

Remember how I recently told some stories from my classroom, illustrating how interesting my class is going to be this year?
Well, I've got some more....

The other day, after distributing a reflection on their writing, I was running through the three questions the students will have to respond to. I wrote some of the answers on the board--the genre they wrote, the title of the unit...and then instructed the students to respond to the rest of the questions about their writing on their own. After running through the directions and repeating the directions, I asked if anyone had any questions (sometimes a dangerous question with third graders, but necessary nonetheless). One of my little girls raised her hand and said "So wait, are we answering these questions?"

Recently, at our Halloween party, I had a conversation with a student that went something like this:

Me: Did you bring in plates and napkins for the party?

Student: (With a blank stare.) Shakes her head no.

Me: Your mom sent me an email, saying that she was going to send in enough napkins to last us for the year, and some plates for today. Do you remember if you carried those upstairs today or yesterday?

Student: (Looking puzzled) No, I didn't bring in any plates or napkins. Neither did my Mom.
My student teacher, overhearing this last part of the conversation chimes in with: "Oh yeah, she brought them this morning, they are in the closet, I'll grab them."

Later on, I asked, just out of curiousity, if she had, in fact, carried the plates or napkins upstairs or if Mom had dropped them off. My student teacher informed me that my student did carry up the plates, and her Mom carried up the napkins.
Apparently she didn't remember doing so.


Finally, one last conversation:
Me: Put your math sheets and number cards in your math folder.

A student, sitting directly in front of me: Wait, where do we put our sheets?

Manic Monday

Today was one of those days where it was a good thing I have a student teacher....if I hadn't, there was no way I could have gotten everything done.

The day began with a parent teacher conference. Even though conferences are long since over, I have five parents who cancelled or never scheduled their conference with me so we are doing make ups. This week I have four. Today I had two.
The morning started with some very pointed questions about her child's reading ability. Questions like, "Well, could he do the assessment if he didn't have to write it?" Maybe he could, in fact, I'd say he probably could, most third graders are better in their oral responses than their written ones. But, on the other hand, the assessment is written. Every assessment they have to take, including the CMT's, are written. Whether I agree with that or not, that's the way that it is, at least for now. I understand the point of her question, she wants to know if her child could do better if the situation were different. At the same time, I don't understand the point of the question. I always feel it's best to focus on what we have to do....rather than on what we maybe could do if things were different.

That was my first conference....then came my second. One that I knew would be long, but ended up taking an hour. Largely because there was a lot of back and forth. Not between me and them, but between the mom and the dad. These are parents I've had before, and I absolutely adore them, but a note to all you parents out there: don't have disagreements in front of the teacher. These parents also had a concern about their child receiving extra help. Again, I understand what they were saying...they were worried it was too confusing for her to be pulled out and miss classroom time in one subject to get the support in a different subject. And they are right, I don't disagree with them, it is hard to get pulled out and switch gears. But, she needs help. Extra support. For me, and what I expressed to them, is that any help in reading was a good thing. I'm not so sure I convinced them since they asked me to see if I could switch the time of her support (which I know I can't)....but I said I'd give it a shot and we'll see what we get.

Next came a meeting with my student teacher's supervisor. Again, it should have been brief. I had nothing but positives to say, nor did she. My paperwork was filled out, t's crossed, i's dotted...yet somehow it turned into a thirty minute conversation. Then she had to meet with her supervisor, leaving me alone with my students for the first time in a long time. A nice treat to be honest, but I was anxiously looking at the clock so I could go meet up with a colleague to discuss a professional development I am presenting tomorrow. Forty five minutes later, she came back upstairs and I ran out to meet with my colleague. An hour later, I dashed out of that meeting to run to another.....

Like I said....manic Monday.

A change in the making

There is a change in this educator's household lately. And frankly, I blame the neighbors. I should clarify, it's not necessarily a bad change. In fact, I somewhat enjoy it...it's a little fun to watch it happening. But it's a transformation nonetheless, and like any transformation you never really know if you'll like it until it's fully complete and settled into your life for a bit.

Here's the change--it's my husband. When I first met and started dating him, he was unique (in many ways). He didn't watch sports. I mean, he'd flip to the occasional game. Catch some of the World Series...but never once, in the early stages of our relationship, did I know him to spend an entire afternoon watching a game. Never was I subjected to cancelled dates, or worried about losing him to an afternoon of beer drinking, chip eating, yelling at the TV sports games.

Lately, that's been changing. And, like I said, I blame the neighbors. They took him to not one, but two Patriots games. And they did the whole she-bang--driving up early, tailgating (with a mini grill), sports paraphernalia, late night drive home. He's hooked. Completely. Now, he'll actually watch whole games. He's yelling at the T.V. He's quoting statistics and weird football terms at me (P.I.?!? What the heck is that!?!). He's even DVR'd games to watch later, or again. AND he's watching ESPN Sports Center. It's madness I tell you.

I don't really mind. Like I said, I actually enjoy it. It's fun to watch my sweet, mild mannered husband yelling at the players on the screen. It's even more fun to watch my admitted sports-phobe husband get so into sports that he's learning names of players, stats of quarterbacks and the history of teams. So, for now, I'm enjoying this new discovery as much as he is. And, if I ever start to not enjoy it, then I'll go the route of my friends: I'll shop while he watches the games. That's a fair trade off I think.

Friendships that never change

Yesterday my best friend got married.....(More on that topic later. I want to wait until I have my pictures ready to upload, so you can experience the full beauty and sheer love of the day.) She invited, as we all have, some of our closest high school friends. There is a small group of us that became friends back in seventh grade, and remained friends all through high school and beyond....

We've been through a lot together--birthday parties, confirmations, graduations, weddings, births, deaths....and we've created and maintained some of our own traditions. Back when we all lived within driving distance of one another we went to the same restaurant every summer before school started. Now that life has scattered us to various states we get together once a year--sometimes over a long weekend (Veteran's day was popular for awhile) and sometimes for the wedding of a friend. Another tradition (bizarre though it may sound) began one band/choir trip years and years ago. We take pictures of our feet. (I know, I know, I have no idea how this started, but it did.) And now, I have pictures of our feet through the years- on band trips, at weddings, at showers....for my wedding they took the picture (without me, my Mom was my stand in) and for my friend's wedding this weekend, we did it again. And it is a measure of how long we've been doing this that after the picture the bride said, "I feel that there are feet missing." Because there were feet missing from our photo--the feet of a friend who is just days away from giving birth.

There is something to be said for friendships that are so comfortable. That feel just as cozy as the clothes you slip into once you get home from work. The kind of friendships that, no matter how much time has passed since you've last talked, you pick up right where you left off, and it is as if no time has passed at all. There's never a readjustment period when we are together....never any awkward let's-catch-up-on-our-lives-in-five-seconds- or-less when we first get together again....never any weirdness at all. Instead we slip right back into conversations and jokes and stories as if we had just seen each other yesterday in the halls of our high school. Although the stories and the jokes have changed, the feelings stay the same.

None of us could have predicted--way back in the uncomfortable stages of flashlight tag and braces, report cards and first kisses--that these friendships would last a lifetime. Yet somehow, they have. So to you, Ness, Di, Lyn, and Amy--and to the men you have married and brought into our little fold- Rob, Jakel, Chuck and Greg-- to you I say, I love you all from the bottom of my heart. My life is better for having you in it.

Day #2

Sorry, I couldn't think of a more clever title...I mean, I know I gave you a few clever titles just a few days ago on my blog, but I'm sort of holding onto those ideas for when I can't think of anything else to write about....and right now, I have a totally new writing idea.

First of all, I'm posting during school hours. How is this possible you are wondering? Ahhh... such is the beauty of the student teacher. She is teaching, and I am blogging. I do have stuff to do, which I'm sure is no big surprise for any of you who know teaching. Even if you aren't teaching there are a hundred things to do. Right now I have nine things on my To-Do list that I'm choosing to ignore....

Anyway, that's besides the point....back to what I was saying- the beauty of a student teacher is that they have to do two full weeks of complete take over. That means they are in charge of everything. From what the students do in the morning, to small group instruction in reading workshop, to conferencing in writing workshop, to math lessons, homework assignments, copying.....everything. The only thing she isn't doing right now is dealing with parents, or preparing for conferences or report cards.....It's a nice little "break" for me. And an opportunity for me to do extra stuff, stuff that you try to cram in in between the ten thousand things you do while teaching a group of 25 third graders.

The flip side of this is, of course, that I am me. I write the following knowing full well that the curse of every teacher I know is that we are control freaks. We do things a certain way and we like things a certain way and in our little world, we control things as much as we can. It is VERY hard to let that all go. My student teacher this year, unlike in the last two years, is really quite good. She's organized and planned. She gets the kids and clearly adores them. She's kind and caring and hard working and, best of all, she is willing to listen and learn. In short, she's going to be a great teacher.

But she's not me. I'm listening to the things she is saying and watching the things she is doing and more and more I. Want. My. Class. Back. It is really quite difficult to be a teacher, and not be teaching. These are MY kids. This is MY class. I don't like feeling disconnected. I don't like missing out on what they are learning and saying and doing. I also don't like that my kids are getting away with things that I wouldn't let them get away with. Getting up in the middle of a mini-lesson for example. Talking in line before walking out the door. Keeping their cubbies so disorganized it's impossible to slip even a piece of paper in. These are little things, I know, and I know she is learning....and yes, I have talked to her about it. The thing about teaching though, is that it is A LOT of work. And, honestly, four student teachers later, I can tell you that it takes a veteran teacher to be able to do those small detail things and deal with everything that is thrown at you in a day. I know my standards and expectations are high. I recognize that. But even though I can rationalize it, well, it doesn't mean that I don't want my students back, or my classroom back, any less.
Five more days until they are mine.....then you'll be reading a post about how much WORK it is to be a teacher, and how, when you have a student teacher, you forget how much work it really is.....

Beergaritas, tambourines and boas...a short guide to a fantastic bachelorette!

Ah ha! You thought I'd skip out on the first post of the month, didn't you!?! I'm here....a little late, but it's still November 1st! And not only am I starting NaBloPoMo, but I'm starting it with some pictures! Woo hoo! Everyone loves pictures!

A few weeks ago was my friend's bachelorette party....it was held in NYC and....well....let's just say the even was a HUGE success.

The evening began with a pot luck dinner and wine tasting by Swirl. That's right, they came right to the apartment with WINE! And they even brought cheese! On a snazzy slate board serving platter! We walked through a few different wines, rated them by celebrity (Rupert Everett- fruity, in a good way....Johnny Depp- lots of layers, a complex drink.... Russell Crowe- meaty with a lot of angst...Britney Spears- started off well, but ended in disaster.) and ate cheese along the way.

Next, a stretch hummer limo (yeah, you read that right, it was the biggest limo I've ever been in!) picked us up to drive us around to various bars in NYC. The best part about this (well, there are several best parts, but one of the best parts) is that the bachelorette's sister (the host) knew the owners or the bartenders, so we snuck right in to each and every bar. Needless to say, we ALL felt a little VIP! At our first bar, we were offered Beergaritas-- something one of the bartenders had invented and apparently a cross between beer and a margarita. Now, I'll usually try anything once, but I hate beer (I know, I know...I'm weird....) so I opted out of this one. But one of the brave ladies went for it, and claimed it was quite yummy. I took her word for it.

The bride-to-be wore a boa and a tiara (because really, that's what you should do on your bachelorette night). Here she is with her future sister-in-law. But the accessory of the evening was clearly this one:

That's right.....a tambourine! Never has a girl had more fun than with that tambourine. Especially at the last bar we hit-third on our list but probably first in our hearts. It was a bar with giant TV screens everywhere (I think you can see one in the background of this picture) that played 80's videos. That's right folks, 80's videos. We were in our element and there was much singing and dancing at that bar, let me tell you.

We ended the night with a short walk, an attack on the left over food, and all of us curling up in various couches and air mattresses around the apartment.

And awoke to a VERY loud jackhammer early the next morning. Which, apparently, has never happened before--the jackhammer I mean. Ah well...we drowned our early morning misery with some Dunkin Donuts and hit the road to come back to sleepy CT....filled with great stories....

Something's gotta give....

Between class, and conferences, and teaching, and...well....life....something had to give. And, unfortunately, it was my blog. Then, of course, when I do have time to write (which, admittedly wasn't very often lately) I get caught up in two different states. The first being "oh my goodness, I haven't written in so long I have so many stories saved up" and the second being "oh my goodness, I haven't written in so long, who is interested in what I have to write???"

Anywho....I'm back, briefly (class tonight and I have to track down a document that my professor insists is online but so far I haven't managed to find it) to give you a taste of some upcoming posts. I'm going to try this whole post a day thing in November. I know, I know, you are thinking, "The woman barely posted in October, now she's going to try every single day in November?!?' I have no idea if I'll make it, but I'm going to try.....So here it is, a list of upcoming posts to tantalize you:

1) Tales from my Tiny Kingdom (more stories about my delightful group of third graders)

2) Conferences: who are they really for anyway?

3) Beergaritas, boas and tambourines....a short guide to a fantastic bachelorette!

4) To raise a big stink... or not....that is the question

5) Fanksgiving--a (new) family tradition revisited (that one you have to wait for for awhile, since Fanksgiving isn't until November 10th this year)

OK, that's it for now....I'd hate to give away all of my posts ideas at once! Stay tuned....more to come, if not tomorrow then soon!

Putting things in perspective

My professor told a story at class this week...she was running a course with some administrators from around the U.S. and one woman from Ohio who was a newly appointed principal at a high school told how she walked into her school and saw, proudly displayed, a graduation requirement for all of the senior girls.

Any guesses?
Here's another hint- it was a small agrarian town, and many of the teachers had been at that school for years and years. Only the girls had to do this requirement. And it was something on display.

Are you running through the possibilities in your head? She made us guess, and we came close, but were a bit flabbergasted when we learned the truth....ready for it?
Men's boxer shorts.
That's right. The graduation requirement for the girls was that they could sew a pair of men's boxers. And their final projects were displayed in the foyer.
I'm sure you are thinking, as we were, that this must have been awhile ago. At least thirty years ago....nope. This was in 2000.
Crazy, right?
This story made me appreciate my Connecticut high school experience.

Then, my friend--my friend who is my age, whose wedding I was in, who is taking this class with me--my friend tells me that they found cancer cells on her uterus.
She isn't quite ready to become pregnant, but we have been talking lately about how she is closer and closer to that point. And, she is the friend who is ALWAYS sensitive to my situation....she always prefaces her conversations about getting pregnant by saying "who knows, it could take awhile..." and I have to say, I love her for it. So hearing this news....well... it kinda punched me in the gut. And of course, her biggest concern, the question she kept asking the nurse was "can I have children?" Which, of course, no one can answer yet...so...for a lack of anything else to do, I did the only thing I could think of....offered her anything she needed. And said a prayer for her. And while I was at it, I said thank you--for even in the midst of our pregnancy struggle, I am one lucky girl.

Nothing like a little perspective in your life....

To remind you of the ones you love

I believe, with all of my heart, that life is made up not of the big dramatic moments....but the tiny little ones in between. Weddings are great. And magical and beautiful and special and amazing and all that jazz. But they are a day. It is the small moments, the ordinary moments, that build a life together. The way Russ rubs my back when he first gets out of bed on the way to the bathroom to shave and shower. The way Cosette shouts "I am your munchkin!" when I ask where my munchkin is. The way my students laugh at me when I stumble over my words and end up saying BLAH! in a very loud voice. The way my mom's cheek feels when I kiss her hello--soft and warm and very mom-like. The way my sister laughs at me when she is the only one who catches me doing something totally stupid. The way my mother and father in law greet me with the biggest smiles on their faces, no matter where we are or what we are doing. These small moments are the moments that make up a life and that build memories....

Nothing reminds me of this more than Nonnie. Lately, there have been moments in my life that have reminded me of her. One of those moments happened recently.

I have been slowly making an effort to become more "Italian". To learn the home cooked meals like Nonnie used to make. Well, this summer, I decided to try something new--making sauce using tomatoes from my backyard. The best part about this story is that my memory of how this worked was clearly skewed. I remember Nonnie's rather large veggie garden. And I remember the fireplace she had outside. And I clearly remember a big pot on that fireplace, where she'd toss tomatoes, seemingly fresh off the vine, to cook.

Apparently, there were a few steps in between that I missed. When I asked my mom if I needed to dice the tomatoes, or just toss them in the pot whole, she laughed and explained the process. First you wash them and cut off the tops. Next you boil them until the skin just begins to crack. Then you cold shock them, and peel them. If you are really snazzy you can seed them now too, but I'm not that snazzy, and neither was my Nonnie. Then you chop them roughly and then, and only then, can you cook them in the big pot that I remember.

A few weekends ago, I did this (again....the first time I went to my Mom's house to learn). In that moment, with tomatoes standing like sentinels on my counter, spatters from the sauce all over my stove, the smell of fresh sauce bubbling away and all of the accouterments of cooking scattered across my kitchen....well, in that moment, I felt closer to Nonnie than I have in awhile. These are the memories of her that will last a lifetime, and that I will cherish for a lifetime.

Three years ago today...

I said yes.

Put in my place.....by a four year old

I babysat for my two nieces tonight. The oldest, at four, managed to put me in my place, and make me feel like I was a complete moron....Here's how it went:

Me: Juliette, come eat your dinner.

Juliette: Can I have cereal instead?

Me: (Reaching for a bowl) O.K., come sit down to eat it.

Juliette: No, Auntie Lisa, a bag.

Me: A bag? What do you mean?

Juliette: (sucking her thumb and looking confused) A bag.

Me: Juliette, I don't understand, how will you eat cereal in a bag? Will you show me?

Juliette: (Louder and slower than before, as if she is talking to someone really slow, or really hard of hearing, and carefully enunciating the words)
A BAG!
(I could practically hear the exasperation in her voice.)
I'll show you Auntie Lisa.
(She walks over to the ziploc bags, pulls one out, and mimes eating cereal from it.)
Like this.

Me: Oh! You don't want milk on your cereal then? OK....(I pour it in the bag and Juliette, finally satisfied, settles in to eat her cereal.)

I, suppressing laughter, call my husband to tell him how my four year old niece managed to make me feel like I was a complete idiot.

A Big Day

This past Tuesday was a Big Day. Let's recap:

I started the day by chairing my first ever Professional Development/ School Improvement Plan Committee meeting. I've been a member of this committee for several years now, and the chairs are always teachers, and always men (at least since I've done it) and, always men who aspire to be a principal so none of them are actually around anymore. Last year, when yet another man took a job as an administrator and left us without a chair I marched myself into my Principal's office and let him know that it was time for a woman to take charge. A woman who is going to stick around for a few years and can keep some consistency going on the committee. Of course he agreed (mostly because no one else wanted to do it) and I became the new chair. Tuesday was our first meeting, and, if I do say so myself, it went really well. Thank you. Thank you very much.

The day continued pretty normally, except for the fact that I left an hour and a half early to head to my doctor's appointment. Note: when a doctor tells you a test is no big deal, don't believe him. My doctor claimed the HSG test would be a simple procedure, ten minutes tops, just a little cramping....folks, it HURT LIKE HELL. The kind of hurt that makes you get all hot and sweaty and feel like you are going to vomit. Anyway. The best part was, as I was laying there, half naked, exposed with tubes sticking out of me, sweating and trying to NOT be a baby, two men stroll in, stick their faces in mine and introduce themselves. Hi there. Sorry I can't shake your hand right now, I'm kinda hurting and concentrating on not puking and oh yeah, NAKED from the waist down. Never fear, they were the radiologists, and they were supposed to be there. The test ended, I sipped a cup of tea with my mother in law afterwards and then drove back to school. Because my day wasn't over.
(Wait, you want to know the test results? Well....they of course are not in officially, but at first glance everything looked OK. There was spillage, which means my tubes are open, but they also think they saw "adhesions" near the end of my tubes. My doctor should be calling soon to confirm, and tell me next steps which might involve some sort of laproscopic procedure.)

So, back to my day.....I drove back to school, threw up my schedule, passed out morning work, organized my desk, grabbed the homework and dashed out the door to shovel some food into my mouth before my first administrative class.
That's right, school has started. And oh boy, has it ever. Class runs from 7-10 on Tuesday nights (although the professor promised us she'd get us out by 9:30). The first class was what you'd expect- introductions, get to know you work, syllabus etc. She made us do math, but I guess I can't complain since it is a course on Assessment and Evaluation of Data. I was doing OK until she handed out the syllabus. That's when I started giggling. The kind of crazy, half-sleep-deprived-half-maniacal laugh that you can't stop? Yeah, that one. She is going to make us Work. To give you an idea: our first homework assignment is to read six chapters, complete a few 2-3 minute oral presentations on talking points she assigned and fill out a project proposal for the work that comprises most of our grade. The best part about this portion of my day is that I went and chatted with her because the second class (next week) falls on the same day as Open House. Now, I don't like to miss class, so I was already nervous about talking to her, but I felt reassured when she mentioned that if we can't come to class we should let her know, and she even mentioned Open House as a reason to miss class. So, I'm chatting with her and I let her know that I have Open House next week. She asks me when, I tell her 7, and then she says "OK, you can come to the earlier class that day. It runs from 4-7." Wait, what??? Yup. She's not excusing me. That means this Tuesday I have to teach a full day, run to class then run back to school to present to twenty four sets of parents. And then, (yes it gets better) she gives me EXTRA homework because the earlier class has so many people that there weren't enough oral talking points to go around, so she passed out articles to read and orally present on. So, lucky me, gets to read two articles in addition to all of the other work. It's a good thing I like being a student.

My day ended with a drive home and a fight with the online system of my new grad school. Forty five minutes later, I finally get into the system, see all of the course materials I need to and crawl tiredly into bed, with a full mind and a tired, slightly sore, body.

HSG

Nope, I'm not talking about the Home Shopping Guide (does that even exist?!? I know Home Shopping Network does....maybe I made up the G part. Whatever, it works.) I'm talking about my newest vocabulary word to add to my growing list.

Update:
The last time I wrote about this, my prolactin levels were high and I had to get retested. Which I did. And all was normal. Happy news. Is it bad that I felt a little let down? I had hoped that this would be the answer, and that all would be fixed with a few magic pills. But, apparently, as I've been told, it's better that they aren't high. (Funny how that information comes out AFTER you find out your levels are normal.)

Are you like me? Are you wondering why they were high in the first place? If one test says levels are high, and another says levels are normal--which do you trust? Shouldn't I get retested? One more shot to see if they really are normal, or if that was a fluke? I guess not, because the process continues...

Next, Russ went for his test. My neighbor tried to tell me that he had it much worse off than me. The embarassment! The horror! Until I told her about what's coming next for me, and suddenly she changed her tune. Anyway. All is well (much to his relief) with him. He worried, as I do, that there was something wrong. That this difficulty would be his fault. Dare I tell him that with his relief, my worry, my nervousness, increased? If it isn't him, then it has to be me.

Now comes the fun part.

HSG.

I haven't googled this one. I got enough information from the doctor to figure out that I don't really want more. Let's just say this: this test involves sticking tubes and dye where dye and tubes shouldn't be. "10 minutes in and out" my doctor claims. No big deal--just take motrin an hour before, antiobiotics for three days and, oh yeah, have dye dripping out of you for an hour. Not ten minutes. It's like Drano he claims. Cleans ya' right out. Now, I like cleaning, but this kind, it doesn't sound so fun. The doctor also claimed I could work it in around my schedule--as long as it's between Days 7-10 of my cycle of course. Any day within those days. Which happened to fall when I have Rosh Hashanah off. Perfect! I should have known better....I don't really get to arrange it around my schedule. It's really arranged around radiology's schedule. And my doctor. And any patients who are, you know, giving birth at the time. So, I might have to take a day off. In the second week of school.

Which I don't even care about. I'll take a month off and have all sorts of tubes shoved in all sorts of places if it means I'll get a baby at the end of it.

You know you have a great class when...

1) Your first homework assignment is to write each spelling word twice.
And half a dozen kids didn't do the assignment because they didn't understand the directions.

2) A student asks if they can go to the bathroom. You say yes.
And he goes and stands outside the bathroom door, looking bewildered, for a full minute. So you explain that he should knock, then enter as long as no one says anything from inside the bathroom.

3) You are discussing what they already know about rivers to launch our science unit on the River Basin System.
And one student says rivers have water in them.

4) It takes one student four days to figure out that the student sitting directly next to him hasn't been in school.
And the other twenty three haven't even noticed.

I have more stories but I am sure you are getting the idea. I can already tell it is going to be a very interesting year!

Random thoughts inspired by the start of a new school year

It is amazing....and I don't know why I always forget this...but it is amazing how once school starts, you hit the ground running. And it is also amazing...and again, I don't know why I always forget this....how exhausting it is being a teacher. At least at first.

The thing about third graders is that they know so much, and yet, they know so little. Everything needs to be reviewed, from lining up to playing on the playground. Bathroom rules to where to store our reading books. It's exhausting repeating directions for every little thing they do. It gets easier--soon they will know the rituals and routines of our classroom well enough to be reminding me of what they are. But right now....well, right now I spend my days explaining and re- explaining everything. And I do mean everything. Today, for example, I had to explain how to knock on the bathroom door. (Yes, I have a bathroom in my classroom, and yes, I really did have to explain how to knock on the door. I really can't make this stuff up.)

It doesn't help that I have a student teacher. I mean, it does, because with twenty five kids in the room you'll take any extra hands you can get. Plus it means if I need to sneak out to go the bathroom (the adult bathroom that is), well, I can. Without worrying something will happen that will cost me my job. But it doesn't help in the sense that I am trying to model all the right behaviors. I mean, not that I wouldn't be anyway, but you are really on top of your game when you have someone scrutinizing you. Taking notes on things you say and do. (No joke, she has a notebook where she keeps frantically scribbling ideas.) Knowing that you are being watched constantly means, for me at least, that I have to be overly prepared and planned. More so than normal I mean. I like to be that way anyway at the beginning of the year--because not only do you explain everything a hundred times, you also can't leave them with a second of free time. Not now at least. If you give them an inch at this point in the year then you've lost them and it will take every trick in the book to get them back again. So, having a student teacher--helpful, very helpful. But also, not so much.

So. That's that. We are off to a good start. And, oh yeah, here are some pictures. Did I mention I rearranged my WHOLE classroom at 3:00 the day before school? I swear I must have been smoking something to make that decision. But I wasn't. And I did. And I love it so much more than my old arrangement. And I scored an extra book case. Make friends with the custodian. It's such a good thing.

Tomorrow the adventure begins

Tomorrow marks the start of a brand new school year. That's right, tomorrow, twenty five little darlings will arrive in my classroom to spend their third grade year with me. (Yes, I did say twenty five.)

The past few days have been a blur of professional development, meetings, planning and countless hours preparing for this, the first day of school. A little known secret---teachers are just as nervous as the students on that first day!

Wish me luck!

Happy (belated) birthday to me!

I had a birthday a few weeks ago...I'm pretty grounded and generally don't get too crazy about my birthdays. I was doing fine with this one--31-- until my husband pointed out (quite gleefully I might add) that 31 is closer to 40 than it is to 20. He got a good chuckle out of that one. So I pointed out the gray hairs that are growing in his head. Ah, marriage!

Anyway, I do have a tendency to think about the year that has passed and the year that is coming around my birthday. I know that some of you out there might be thinking that I'm about to launch into another post about how sad I am that I'm not pregnant, but, surprisingly, I'm not.

Folks--life is good.

Actually, life is better than good. Life is pretty darn fantastic.

My Mom keeps telling me that my 30's are going to be the best years of my life and I'm starting to think she is right. Does it get any better than this? A husband who adores me, and whom I adore. A house that is, more and more, becoming our own. Truly a home. A family that I love being with (and I do mean my in-laws also because they are as much my family as my husband's). Two gorgeous nieces that get cuter, and smarter, every day and who make me smile every time I see them. A job I love and that challenges me every day. New beginnings-- taking classes for the first time in seven years, beginning to take on more leadership roles within our building and our district. The financial stability to pay bills on time (once upon a time that didn't happen!) and even think about vacations every year! And friends I love talking to and being with.

Like I said, life is pretty darn fantastic. And 31? It's not looking so bad after all!

My sister, my friend

I have an older sister...and a younger brother. Which makes me a middle child, but that's a post for another day.

Growing up, my sister (older by five years) was the person I looked up to, admired, and tried to be like. Her personality is different than mine--I tell people she is one of the strongest women I know. Fiercely independent, strong willed, confident, smart....all of the qualities I wanted to possess came naturally to her.

We were close growing up--all three of us. Tina was the one who looked out for me though. Our rooms were side by side, and a vent between them meant she could hear me. If I was ever sad, or lonely, or upset, Tina would inevitably hear my quiet tears and sneak into my room to comfort me. She went with me to ballet rehearsals, and coached me through some of the more difficult routines. She set the bar high going through school--I was forever known as "Tina's little sister" and it was made clear to me by countless teachers that they had high expectations because of that familial relationship. Oddly enough, that never bothered me. I had to work hard for my grades, but I thrived on the challenge, and developed good study habits that helped me to get where I am today. My brother was my playmate, but my sister was my mentor.

When it was time for me to look at colleges, I was convinced I would never go to the same school as my sister. I thought it would be my chance to blaze my own trail. Well, I quickly realized that was ridiculous and wound up at the same fantastic school she had gone to. As close as we were growing up, I think that this shared experience brought us even closer.

Life marched on--she got married and I was her maid of honor. She had her first child one April and I spent that summer, and the next, taking care of her. Those two summers still stand out as some of the most special I've ever had. And the bond that I formed with my first niece is one that I will forever cherish.

Then I got married, and, of course, Tina stood beside me on the alter. Two years later, and it is my sister that I turn to to discuss my pregnancy difficulties.

Those summers of caring for my niece began a tradition that we continue to this day. My sister and I will, a few times each summer, meet up for lunch. We did this recently--lunch is almost inevitably followed by shopping, or a movie. I have come to treasure this time spent with my older sister. But it was only recently that it hit me: somewhere along the way, the little girl that looked out for her littler sister became the woman that is one of my best friends.

So, Tina, to you I say: Thank you for being the best sister a girl could ever have. I love you.

Some thoughts inspired by today

Today was day two of my adminstrator program. Second day in a row of waking up at 6 am meant that I was a little sleepy, but I still found the day to be rather thought provoking.

I found myself, over the course of the two days, thinking about perceptions. How I perceive things, how others perceive things and how I am perceived. I found myself thinking back to meetings I have sat in, committees I have sat on and conversations I have had.... and I began to wonder: have I always put my best out there? I also began to wonder about the bigger picture. There are times when it is perfectly obvious that there is a bigger picture that I might not know about, and those times I'm normally able to recognize that and understand that I don't have all of the pieces of the puzzle. But there are those other times when it feels like I know enough to get a sense of the bigger picture, and I find myself incredibly frustrated by that knowledge. But now I wonder, did I really know, or was I too quick to jump to conclusions that supported what I was already thinking?

One of the speakers told us that being an administrator means that you are, on many levels, in a fishbowl. Everyone will scrutinize what you say and do, even what you wear. She advised us to start thinking about that now.....and another speaker advised us that we should become known as the person who is fighting for children, regardless of our roles within our school setting.

I have a friend who has already gone through the degree program I am in and just landed a job as an Assistant Principal in our district. There reached a point in his schooling where he started to give me what I liked to call "administrator answers" during our conversations. I used to call him out on it and ask him for what he really thought. He would laugh and respond with a new thought. And then when he landed his job, I used to send him emails of what not to do as an administrator. Now I realize that he was probably going through the same thought process I am going through....I am sure he was thinking about his words, and how they would make him appear. I believe that he ended up telling me his true thoughts because, ultimately, he knew that I already held him in the highest regard, and because he knew that I would keep his words to myself if necessary.

All of a sudden that phrase "it's lonely at the top" makes sense. If administrators are always thinking about perceptions, who do they ever get to be honest with? Who do they get to vent to? Who gets to hear what they really think, or what they really want to say? This thought leads me to friendship: I want to hope that my principal, and all administrators out there, have one true friend. One person that they can say anything to, and that person will recognize that no matter what they say, they are still a good person and a good administrator. I hope that my administrator has one person in his life where he doesn't have to worry about perceptions. I want to believe that administrators have that because I hope that I can have that one day.

I'll end my rather confused ramblings with a quote from the day that spoke to me:
"Seek to understand, before being understood."

Administrator Aspirant

Today was the first day of a four day "course"on being an aspiring administrator. I sort of stumbled onto this life path and I found myself looking around wondering where I'd wind up if I stay the course. I'm sure the answer is obvious to most: a principal. The funny thing is, I'm taking this course, and beginning a new degree in administration, but I'm still completely incapable of picturing myself as a principal. So many of the choices I have made that have led me here to this day are because of the encouragement of others. I often succeeded where I was convinced I wouldn't, agreed to something when I didn't think I had any interest...and along the way I became something I didn't realize I was and still struggle with defining myself as: a teacher leader.

I love teaching. I love everything about it. Teaching is what I wanted to do since I was an elementary student myself. My parents used to tell me that one day I'd realize that if I really wanted to make a difference I would need to be a principal. I used to laugh at that because I believe I am making a difference. Every single day. But lately, I'm starting to see what they mean. There is a bigger world out there beyond the four walls of my classroom and the more I get involved in committees, the more I see the way things work, the stronger my desire to get right in the thick of it.

Today is a perfect example....today, my superintendent happened to be the guest speaker. She went around the room and asked each of us to name something we would do if we were an administrator. After everyone had a chance to express their ideas, she looked at all of us and said, "Why are you waiting?"
Well. That just stopped me in my tracks. The answer I gave myself was "I don't really know." Definitely not good enough. So, right then and there, I started listing a proposal to overhaul our site based professional development. This is an easy area for me to start with because I am going to be chair of our Professional Development Committee. Plus, I like the idea of trying to do something different than the men that chaired the committee before me.

Today, my superintendent also drove home a message that resonated with me on so many levels, and made me respect her so much more. She stressed the importance of following your heart, and staying true to yourself. I have a feeling that if I do that, I will wind up as a principal one day....even if I can't imagine it myself.

So, to you, my fellow bloggers, I ask: why are you waiting?