Not So Dreamy

I was talking to my friend (another teacher) yesterday about how she'd had her first back to school dream already.  I hadn't, something I attributed to a very relaxed, fun-filled July.  My back to school dream usually has students swinging from the rafters while I try (unsuccessfully) to get their attention.  Sometimes though, I'm on the other side of the desk.  In this dream, I walk into a college auditorium full of people who have their blue books and pencils out ready to take a math test. I have no blue book. I can't find a pencil. Ugh. Always math. Always about being unprepared.

Anyway, a back to school dream signals the beginning of the end.  And last night.......it happened.  In my dream I reported back to the school cafeteria where breakfast was being served.  I had french toast, sausage and hash browns with an adult Ryan Fleming, my childhood friend who lived at the end of my street.  Make no mistake, food is a priority even when I'm sleeping.  In my dream, though, students showed up on the same day as teachers.  A friend and colleague showed up too, having been told she could teach my class this year.  Um........awkward.  After dropping the girls off with their teachers in the cafeteria it occurs to me that I am minutes away from having students show up to learn in my classroom.  A classroom I've not set foot in since June.  I walk calmly through the cafeteria doors and then sprint down the hall to my classroom, where everything is still stacked against one wall for summer cleaning.  frantically, I start positioning furniture (and broken carousel horses.....what?) as fast as I can, trying to make it look like I'd given thought to being a teacher before this moment when my students start showing up at the door.  And this is where I woke up.  Sigh.

The Truth is Messy

Last night I sat down by the fire with my cup of hot tea to try and warm up and also just to try to feel better.  I always come home in the winter cold, tired and wanting to use the bathroom all by myself.  Cold and tired I deal with by sitting in Shane's recliner (big ugly) with my feet against the fireplace.  Using the bathroom alone....well, one day my kids are going to turn 18 and want to move out.  Come to think of it, I doubt they'll want to be in the bathroom with me when they're 14, so I guess I just need to see it as endearing that, for now, they want to be with me the second I get home for every second that I'm home.

Anyway, I sat down with hot tea.  Peyton jumped in with me, hit her head against the mug spilling hot liquid over both of us.  I yelled at her for it, as if burning herself wasn't consequence enough.  She burst into tears, hurt more by my short-tempered response than by the spilled tea.  I spent the next five minutes apologizing and wiping tears.

The moral of this little story?  Life is messy.  I know.  I make a big fat mess of mine, daily.  Have you met me?  Let me introduce myself.

I shared that story with my class today during an art lesson.  We were painting the color wheel.  My students wanted their pictures to be perfect and some were even reluctant to try for fear of doing it wrong.  Um.....what?!?!  I'm handing you paint and you are afraid to start mixing?!  I think their pictures should be somewhat messy because mixing primary colors into all the other colors should be messy, whimsical and all about the exploration and discovery of it all.  So what if your paper is messy? Let's get messy! (Also, can you please move the paints that are teetering on the edge of your table because two different cups of red have already landed face down, and did I MENTION THAT IT'S SO HARD FOR ME TO LET YOU GET MESSY!?  'CAUSE YOU'RE MAKING A MESS OF MY STUFF!)  Whoa.

The difference between last night with Peyton and this morning with my students is, I think, two things.  One, I have more patience at 8:40 am than at 5:00 pm.  Two, my students aren't my own kids and therefore they get a more thoughtful, patient, professional response.  How backward is that?  All the screaming I did was only in my head.  In truth, I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Accidents happen.  It's alright.  I can see that it wasn't because you were being careless."

Life is messy.  But it's also redundant, tiresome, boring, mundane and redundant. Go read this article.  I read it when I got home from work today and it rang so true for me.  I think social media might be killing us slowly, painfully, one fabulous post after another.  It's making us afraid of our messes.  It leaves me wondering when everyone became a runner.  And why is everyone feeding their kids such healthy food?  Yes, your meal looks amazing.  Your kids are adorable.  Your tropical vacation during a month that no teacher can take a vacation has me seeing every shade of green.  Don't get me wrong.  I've posted those things too.  I'm not judging (yes I am). It's just not the whole story.

So the truth is, my kid had an epic meltdown in kindergarten last week when instead of going to the iPod station as she'd been planning, she was reassigned to read in the classroom library. She fell apart.  We spent the evening talking about what it means to be able to adapt in life when things don't go as you expected them to.  It was good.

Also, Libby just asked me, "Mom, what would you look like if you weren't wearing a bra." I'll spare you and the rest of the internet my answer.

Fall Recap

The bad news is that having a camera and computer down seriously cramp my style and cost money to fix. Bummer. The good news? My computer is fixed if only after a complete mental meltdown wherein I thought I'd wiped my hard drive of all of my data. Years worth. Work stuff, music, photos. All of it. I (literally) cried for joy at the Mac Store when the "Macologist" found my data and simultaneously became my own personal super hero. Mr. aMazing Mac Man. Not to minimize Shane's role. He stood supportively by my side to pick up the pieces if the results had been different. And he was the one who delivered my camera to be fixed yesterday. Here's hopin' I'll get the same results with that repair.

With a working computer and my phone I was able to organize the last few months worth of pictures and even take some new ones. Here's our fall in review....

Fall at Autzen

One of Libby's friends from school invited her to a princess glamour birthday party. When we first arrived, Libby wasn't having anything to do with having her nails painted or her hair done. She eventually let me paint her nails. After realizing that having her hair done in an up do was the ticket to getting the tiara, she agreed to that part too. In the end, she loved getting girly and celebrating with her friends.

Shane threw his back out last month. Reeeeeally out. Needed-a-walker-to-get-around-the-house-kind-of-out. I got this shot while the girls and I waited in the waiting room at Urgent Care, each of them entertained by technology. I have a picture of Daddy with his walker too, but thought twice about reliving that here. FYI, Shane's fine, but it took a week and some muscle relaxers to get him straightened out.

Lil' Chef

This picture was taken on Libby's birthday. Peyton was somewhat unimpressed with it not being her birthday.

Libby's five! She loves the presents part.....

....but still hates the singing part. We didn't even sing. This was a response to the notion that we might.

She loves the Mud Pie....

....but not the sharing of the Mud Pie. Oh my.

Presents from Grandpa Dad and Grandma Margie after dinner out.

Peyton

Peytie gets busy with some apps in my classroom....

....and loves her "ipod" she made with an Altoids tin. Thank you Tracy!

On our way to the Christmas parade.

Working like crazy to get caught up before vacation starts.

We went to the Bookstore to get our picture taken with the Duck in hopes that this would make a great Christmas card. Not so much. See the fear on their faces? Look how stiff Peyton is, and Libby's smile could not be more fake. I'm not even supposed to be in it. We tried.

Grammy Jane was a more cooperative subject.

Peyton watches Grammy Jane get her picture taken. See, Peytie? He didn't eat Grammy Jane.

Total focus.

School Christmas Program

Hunting down the perfect tree.

Tyin' 'er down. Apparently though, he tied it too tight. As the story goes, when he took it off the car, it had a spring loaded effect....

....and the top had to taped back on. Is he still my handyman if he's the one who broke it? I think yes.

A Shake Up. And a Few Melt Downs....

I went to work business-as-usual today. I opened my email and saw that my principal was requesting a short meeting before school which is really rare. I already knew it would be about staffing in our building, but I didn't really anticipate the impact of her words, mostly because I didn't think this would really happen. It happened. She said something to the effect of, "We, and four other elementary schools who are dealing with over enrollment, received extra staffing to lower our class sizes and go back to straight grades." Jaws dropped. People cheered. Everyone took a deep breath and then kicked it into high gear to reconfigure (reconnoiter was my principal's exact word and I giggle every time she says it. So I looked it up. It's a real word. A military term. I'm adding it to my vocabulary.) our classes. Because our superintendent wants this change to take effect on Monday. Monday. Dude.

Our school rallied. IAs came to our room and took our classes. New schedules were made. New class lists drafted and finalized. Letters to parents written. And then we waited till the end of the day to tell our students. The only time I've ever had a class's attention like today was during last years Human Growth and Development unit. You want a kid's attention? Tell them how babies are made, or tell them you're not going to be their teacher anymore. I had their attention. After I delivered the news they had one question.... "Who is my teacher going to be?" That was an easy one to answer.

"I'll be keeping my fifth graders and we've got a great fourth grade team. And, you guys..... come Monday you'll have ten less kids in your class. That's huge." Still there were tears. It started with a few and spread to many. And I was honest with them. This group of 36 kids was a really nice group. But they deserve this. We all do. Learning in a classroom of 26 is better than a classroom of 36. It just is.

Props to a really great principal who was on the forefront of listening to our staff and making this happen. Now, I've got some new lists to make......

Book baskets you might want to strangle me with, but only if you had to work with me.

Remember last week when I did this....

(Okay, this is the after picture, but stay with me.)

....and then, this happened....

....and then I did this, again?

Well, it gets better. Shane built shelves in my closet, something I wanted to do at the end of last school year, but didn't because, well, school got out and I went on vacation. Oh vacation, I really loved you. With all of my teacher books tucked away, this shelf opened up.

Those are chapter books A-P.

And then I found some cute baskets at Freddy's that were 50% off.

Picture books A-Z

Chapter books P-Z

Nonfiction/Reference

Shane gave me more shelves (book sets).

And, I organized my inside recess games.

Happy September to me!

This kind of organization makes me so happy, but soon the school year will be in full swing and I'll have a different focus. Amber, one of my teaching partners has endured my giddiness over my books and baskets for a week now. This morning, when Suzy, my principal, came around to say, "Good Morning" and "Welcome Back", she turned and looked at my baskets and said, "Those are cute baskets."

And I'm all (shrugging), "Thanks. 50% off at Fred Meyer."

And from across the hall Amber yells, "OH, DON'T ACT ALL CASUAL ABOUT YOUR BASKETS! (to Suzy) SHE LOVES HER BASKETS!!" And that's when I started dancing.

Incidentally, Amber is probably still at school prepping for our staff training tomorrow, as she's a trainer. And since it's time to get focused, I'll be a devoted trainee.

Literary Misfire

My class size has increase considerably from last year. In order to make room for all the bodies that contain the free spirited cherubs that will call this place home this year, I moved out two freestanding bookshelves that took up too much square footage. Then, I tried to see the glass half full and take the opportunity to organize my books in a way that I've never done before. I'm sorting by genre and author. I'm alphabetizing and arranging things in a way that, I hope, will make it easy to find what we're looking for. I've wanted to do this for a long time, and I know I'll be so glad when it's done.

My little project got off to a rocky start, though.

I've inherited a (new to me) table that was moved into my room over the summer. I put it on the tile, and put letters A-Z on sticky notes around the edge of the table. I started sorting according to author's last name. After a round of books, I'd go pick up another stack and put them in the correct pile. After one particular round, I walked away from the table. As I did I heard a creaking noise and turned to see one leg (under M) of the table give way, and all of my hard work slide off of the table and onto the floor. I stood frozen. I could only watch....

Oh. My. Literature.

What could I do? I posted a picture to facebook to garner some sympathy from my teacher friends and considered meeting Shane and the girls for breakfast, preferably at Taylor's, which makes a mean Bloody Mary. But, after a small tantrum (punching the air and jumping up and down), I reconsidered. Because Shane was home with the girls, and this task is so much easier done alone. So I stayed. And fixed it. And this morning, I returned to this:

Now, I still have to put them in bins and on shelves, but I have hope. One, that I'll finish this little project before work officially starts next week. And two, that I'll have a place for everyone to sit when school starts.

On another note, while I stacked picture books today, Peyton went into the hallway and counted coat hooks outside my door. I peeked my head around the corner to watch, but she told me to go away. So, I hid within earshot and listened to my baby count to sixteen. Sixteen! Can you believe that? Now, double that and add six and that's about how many students I'll have this year. Wish me luck!

Schooooools Out for Summer!

Let me start by saying this.... School is OUT. O-U-T, OUT. Well, not for everyone, but it's out for my fifth graders. We had a fifth grade celebration ceremony today where all of the students received a certificate, but by far the best part was at the end of the day "clap out". The entire school, students, staff and fifth grade parents lined the hallways from our classrooms to the main doors by the office. Then, as our fifth graders walked their final walk down the hall and out the main doors everyone cheered for them. It was awesome. And it felt a little like they were cheering for me. Did I mention I just finished my first year back at school after being home with my girls? And did I also mention that I survived? I know, huh.

I work tomorrow, but it's all end-of-the-year wrapping up type stuff. Folders, clean up and I thought I might build some new shelves in my room. Now, I'm rethinking the shelves part. I think I'll do the required stuff and save shelf building for another day. It feels so good to be done.

Tonight the girls and I watched Tangled (thank you Grandpa Dad and Grandma Margie) and the girls are so exhausted I give them three minutes, tops, before they're out.

And guess what tomorrow is?! My baby turns three! She's dying to have a swim party "just like Lucy's!" so that will have to wait a few more weeks, I think. Anything that's not a swim party isn't going to cut it, I'm afraid. Someone has an opinion these days, and a strong one at that.

She's vocal too. Tonight, after both girls got a little demanding with me I explained to them that if they want something that they can get for themselves, the question should start with, "Mom, may I please have...." But, if they need me to get/do something for them, the sentence should start with, "Mom will you please do something for me?"

The second I said it, Peyton says, "Mommy will you please do something for me?" But what she wanted, she didn't know.

Then, at dinner Peyton interrupts Libby with, "Libby, you bossy to yo mudduh."

I bet you can guess how that went over. Libby was furious and on the verge of blowing her top. Sitting cross-armed in her chair (just like me 34 years before her), she was trying so hard not to lose it.

In an attempt (I think) to make her laugh, Peyton finished her little comedy routine with, "Libby, I going to poke your, mommy's, my eye." Then, she proceeded to poke herself in the eye and laugh hysterically.

Still, her audience didn't deliver like she'd hoped. I had to stifle my own laughter so as not to push Libby over the ledge, and Libby just tried not to fall off the ledge.

The Third Egg

Remember the owl box camera we watched last year? Well, this one might be even better. It's a family of bald eagles in Decorah, Iowa. My students have been watching like hawks (pun intended) their every move. We've been watching now for two days. Momma is sitting on top of two hatched babies and one egg and we've been waiting, waiting, waiting for that third egg to hatch. I'm starting to wonder if it won't. If it does though, I can tell you this...... We will be glued to our computer screens watching its every move.

We have watched the momma and papa eagles come and go and take turns feeding and sitting on their little family. And by feeding the babies, I mean ripping apart whatever they've just killed, chewing it into tiny digestible pieces and dropping it into the mouths of their waiting babies. It is school-sactioned gore at its finest, and my class (of mostly boys) loves it! Here's to the third egg and hoping the little guy (or girl) makes it.....

Update: Just after writing this I went to the site to check on them and the third egg had hatched! My class will be so excited, and bummed that we missed it. You can see the third hatch here, though. I wonder if I could trick them into believing they're watching it in real time. They'll probably just be excited that there's a dead fish on the edge of the nest.

One Fish, Two Fish....

I shouldn't even admit the (lack of) frequency with which my kids get a bath. So when they finally get one, I let them soak for awhile....

One Fish,

Two Fish,

(Red Fish,

Blue Fish.)

Happy Birthday, this week, Dr. Seuss.

Missing You....

I started this post by listing the hours I worked today. There were too many and it sounded whiney. I deleted it and started over.

This was a long day; longer than most. In the car on my way home I started to think about my blog and how much I miss writing here. Some people see their lives as status updates on facebook. I know people like that. I've hidden them from my news feed, because I don't care to know their business every two hours. But truthfully, I used to look at the daily happenings with my babies as fodder for my blog. I'd think about something funny they did and plan in my mind how I'd post it here. I just don't have that kind of leisure time anymore, and I really miss it. I'll have it this summer. I can't wait for this summer. The truth is, though, that the job I do away from home is important too. It matters to me to do it well. It is never complete after eight hours. Ever. I always have a running list of how I could be doing things more effectively, kids I need to conference with, parents I've gotta catch in passing, snacks to bring for meetings, supervision duty (that might be this week. I should check the schedule.) and kids to prep for their presentation at a school board meeting next month. And I haven't even taught anything yet. This job is insane. What was I thinking? I know. I love it. And somebody loves the kids in my class the same way I love my girls. They care that I do my best everyday.

Enough already. This is starting to sound like a mission statement moment like the one that got Jerry Maguire canned.

At the end of the day I love coming home. I love the flat footed (thud thud thud) run of Peyton when she greets me at the front door. I love pretending that I can't find Libby wherever she's hiding (and giggling). I love the people who love my kids when I can't be with them. Thank you.

Enough.

Tonight....

Bedtime silliness....

If you look closely at Peyton's forehead you can see a distinct purple mark over her left eye. Today, Shane opened a door and the edge of it caught Peyton right in the forehead. Ouch. I asked her tonight, "Peytie, did you bonk yourself?" She answered, "No, Daddy bonked myself."

Momma's slippers.

Tonight, Shane made a late run to the grocery store while the girls and I hung up the alphabet in their room. Libby loves her letters and is starting to read some simple words, so tonight seemed like a good night to encourage reading.

New Toy

It's been a big week for us. So many transitions and somehow we survived it all. Shane stayed home with the girls on my first official day back to work. Then, on Wednesday they played at a friend's house. Thursday and Friday Grammy Jane was in charge and then the Dover's came for the game weekend. On Saturday the girls and I made a new purchase for the backyard. Assembly was a team effort after the game, and we've been jumping ever since....

On the flip side, I think Libby is feeling the magnitude of all of the changes we've just handed to her. Besides my return to work, she started preschool this week and has spent a fair amount of time in time-out. This morning just after my family left, she got upset and threw a bottle of gummy vitamins across the floor in anger. Then, she picked it up and threw it again. I sent her to time-out where she screamed so loud I had to close the doors. When I came to get her she said, "Mom, I don't like you telling me not to..... not to...... um, what did I do?" Every action of the moment seems to be a reaction. Sigh.

I've been working on school stuff this weekend against my better judgement. I can't help it. It's been a while, and others seem more confident in my teaching ability than I am. So, I'm relying on my ability to organize. That'll get me through the first day, right? That and a smile? Can you sense my nerves? I'll let you know how it goes....

Hanging On The Edge

Last week I felt like I was hanging on the edge of trying to get everything organized in my classroom. During the first official week back I know I'm going to want to spend time meeting with my team and getting my classroom ready. But realistically, I'm going to be spending my time in meetings, re-trainings, curriculum trainings and more meetings. Therefore, I was feeling hugely overwhelmed trying to take the girls to school and expect them to sit quietly in a corner for hours on end without making any messes that would have to be cleaned up before leaving each day. Oh, the messes. Enter, my mom. She offered to come and gave me two full days to get some things done without trying to manage little people at the same time. I got so much done. There is still more to do, but many things I can do from home when my littles are sleeping. I have a new found appreciation for the time I do spend with the girls. On tonight's agenda, swimming, dinner and whatever else we feel like doing. Laundry, I don't love you. You'll have to wait.

And remember that mural that I decided not to do? Yeah, I even did that too. I'm feeling a little less on the edge today....

Tomorrow.... reading curriculum.

Creative Inspiration

I bet you can guess what inspired the color on this bulletin board....

....and on my newly revamped soap box.

Grunden this morning. "Go ahead, squirrels. I dare you. Cross my yard."

Confessions of a Neurotic Procrastinator

My to do list goes on for miles right now. I worked in my classroom for two and a half hours this morning, which is about the girls' limit. When my list gets this long I tend to check out by finding other things to do. Creative things. Things I should NOT be spending my time on. I'm hoping this charming little character flaw will someday make me millions. I spent a good ten minutes this morning staring at a wall in my classroom thinking it would be the perfect spot to paint a mural of the illustrations of Shel Silverstein. It really would be great. It would create such an inviting learning environment. But, I really don't have time for murals. I'm just avoiding a shelf of curriculum I should be learning, posters that need to be hung, lessons to be planned. Case in point (sit down if you know me well).... I haven't even watched t.v. this summer. No reality t.v. even, and reality t.v. and I LOVE each other. I'm struggling to focus on doing what's important. Things that'll really matter at the end of my life. On the day I take my last breath, I doubt I'll look back and say, "I really wish I'd painted that mural."

Instead, here's what I did do this week. The lunch boxes were $3.99 at Target. The velcro letters on the front took a lot less time than it would take me to paint a mural, and I still had time to take the girls swimming. Mural schmural.

The girls are sleeping. I'm gonna go take a look at that list....