conversations with five year olds

The scene: Table covered with bottles of paint, paintbrushes, and paper.

Kid: What are you doing?

Me (clearly stirring paint): Mixing the paint so you can start on your picture of Little Blue and Little Yellow.

Kid: Why is it taking so long?

Me: Well, the paint in your picture is sort of yellowish green, but this green is too blue. I have to make it match.

As I continue to stir a small drop of paint splashes from the container onto my finger.

Kid (highly concerned): There's PAINT on your finger.

Me: I know. It's ok. I'll clean it off when I'm done, but thanks for letting me know.

Kid continues watching my hand very intently as though it might explode.

Kid (after obvious consideration): Well, don't lick it, ok?

I stop stirring and look to see if he's actually serious and determine that he does, in fact, think there is a chance I might lick tempera paint off my finger.

Me (quite seriously): Ok. I definitely won't.

Kid smiles, obviously relieved, and walks away.


Just another day in kindergarten...

the tipping point

I had a crummy week.

I want to write a positive post because I feel guilty for spending so much time complaining about what I don't have when I've been immensely blessed in comparison to most of the rest of the world, but if I'm honest, it's been a hard week. I've spent so much time worrying about and waiting for doctor's appointments and test results that I've become even more self-absorbed than usual. Life has revolved completely around me, and being me hasn't been very fun.

My new student teacher came for the first time this Wednesday, and I realized about five minutes in that starting down the path of fertility treatments has already changed me for the worse. I think I was a pretty good mentor in the fall, but just the thought of mentoring this new girl makes me tired. It's not that I think she'll be particularly difficult or anything. It's just that she's one more person I have to take care of, and taking care of extra people feels really hard when I've got so much going on outside of school.

Teaching little bitties has always been emotionally demanding. In fact, it used to feel crushing to me, but this year it hasn't. Until this week, picking up my kids in the mornings tended to be the highlight of the day. They would see me walk in the door and jump up, all fighting to be first to tell me whatever exciting news they've picked up since the previous afternoon, and the stress of the rest of my life would melt away. This week that didn't happen. There were moments that they'd do or say something precious and I'd get pulled back in for a bit, but apparently I've reached the tipping point where the stress is too much to sweep under the carpet with a few cute smiles. Adding responsibilities certainly didn't help.

I'm beyond thankful for the moments that were special. Seeing a picture of words written in chalk on a sidewalk proclaiming to the world that I take care of my class when they're hurt and help them with their learning. Escaping into a magical pirate world during recess with one of my autistic kids. Reading a card that described me as "loevly." Having a dance party after we were the best behaved kindergarten class in the lunch room yet again. Those are the parts of the week that I want to remember. That's the post I want to write... the one where my week totally rocked.

Maybe next week...

plans

For the past few months I've found it harder and harder to come up with anything I want to write. Summer was totally awesome, but since I was working for a family that basically all of you know, it didn't seem right to share the stories I came home with at the end of the day. Now that school has started again, the content isn't a problem... it's the complete and utter lack of motivation.

This week will be the 10th week of the school year (crazy!!!), and for about the first 8 weeks I was completely and utterly miserable. I transitioned from spending the summer working for the best people EVER to my regular, stressful, not so fun job. Coming back from summer is never fun, but this year it was especially awful for me. I missed getting to hang out with the family I worked for over the summer, and although everyone acted like I should just slip back into kindergarten like I'd never left, that's not how it worked out at all. I was totally lost for the first couple of weeks, and then once I got my footing I still had to deal not only with all the politics and paperwork I hate, but also with the disappointment that I was starting my 8th year of teaching rather than staying home with the children I wish I had. All of that added up to a great recipe for depression, and around week 2 it hit. Hard. Luckily, after a few days I picked myself up and reached out to a couple of my favorite people, and as it turns out, all those coping strategies I've learned in the past few years work shockingly well when I actually use them.

It took a few more weeks, but things have leveled out again. The crippling anxiety that always seems to come with the beginning of school has tapered off, even without medication, and I'm finally starting to enjoy my class and not mind so much that God's plan for my job doesn't line up with what I want at the moment. It helps that my kids have said several adorable things lately, and I keep getting compliments on my fabulous teaching. Who wouldn't like that? I also got a student teacher who seems great so far, and I've noticed that unlike last year, I actually enjoy mentoring her and feel confident in what I'm teaching and modeling for her. Maybe there's hope for the school year after all.

It's also the end of October, and while September was a little rough, I'm feeling great right now... huge, huge, HUGE event considering that I can't remember the last time I felt normal in fall without medication. Maybe when I was 10 or 11? If you'd asked me this time a year ago, I'd have told you this day would never come. Luckily, in this case, God's plan doesn't always line up with mine!

another year down

The experiment in fourth grade is officially over. My kids and I moved all my stuff down the hall right back where it came from, and then after a giant group hug, they walked out the door as proud fifth graders. It's summer!

I found out about three weeks ago that I'd be moving back to kindergarten, but until yesterday, it was officially a secret (although I'd told plenty of non-school people anyway). I didn't want to move. A lot of people have been shocked to hear that I wanted to stay put after my worries about moving to fourth grade in the first place, but I did. I felt like I finally figured out what I was doing around March, so I was excited to start next year knowing all that I do now. It was going to be great.

I'm trying to believe that kindergarten will be great too, and there are moments when I do. Today I was walking down the hall when about six random kindergartners decided to hug me just because their friend (who I actually knew) gave me a hug when she walked by. That's something big kids just don't do. My Lakeshore kids and lots of other things I used to love will be able to come out of storage, and I enjoyed seeing natural light shining through the leaves of the tree outside my window when we moved everything back into my old room. It's not what I wanted, but I'm starting to come around to the idea.

My attitude is pretty good now, but it hasn't been for the past few weeks. I didn't (and still don't) understand God's plan in this situation or in several others that I've faced since the middle of May, and I spent quite a bit of time wallowing in my anger and bitterness. I looked at what I've seen God do in my life over the past few years. Then I looked at what was going on right now, and even though I knew what I should believe, I doubted. I trusted my plan rather than his, and I shut him out.

Last Sunday I learned that people pay more attention to my behavior than I thought when a friend said she was responding to a hard situation the same way I would: by shutting people out and refusing to listen to the truth. Wow. In three weeks I'd gone from being someone I would have been proud to call a friend to someone I wouldn't want to admit I knew. Not only did I make my own situation worse by running from God, I dragged others into the abyss with me.

So now I'm choosing to listen to the truth and trying to trust that God's plan for my life is better than mine even though I don't like it at the moment. I want so very much to trust and be content where I am, and I even get to teach that particular truth this month. I have a feeling I'll be learning more than my girls. Funny how that always works out...

spring

Spring is here!

When I think about the past few months looking for something to say, all I see is that the end of winter wasn't the most exciting. That seems to be how I feel a lot of the time now, and I can't decide what I think about it. I'm pretty sure it's a good quality... although it makes for a really boring blog.

I guess if I'm totally honest I could come up with a lot of things to write about. The TAKS test is over. We're in a new community group. A few days ago my students informed me that I should really look into a career in modeling (right...). Somehow the idea of writing about any of that just bores me to death. Of all the things that happened this winter, two stick out as favorites worthy of recording: my new women's Bible study group and my new area of service, tutoring at-risk 4th graders at a low-income school.

Back in January, one of my favorite people invited me to join a Bible study she was doing. My first instinct was to say no. I don't like new people and sort of doubted her motives in asking, and I was already committed to some other things. But for some reason I decided to give it a shot. I'm so glad I did! I'd forgotten how nice it feels to be completely known and loved not in spite of my flaws but because of them. I can be having an awful day, but when I see their smiling faces my whole body relaxes as if it's telling me that now everything will be ok. Our meetings have become the highlight of my week.

Now on to my other favorite thing! It's no secret that I often feel frustrated in my job. I know that all children need good teachers, but I also know that the vast majority of the children I teach would be just fine if I sat them down with a book and told them to figure it out. They've got the background knowledge and family support to make it work. I'm sort of unnecessary, but now for three hours on Saturday morning, I'm needed.

The kids I work with on Saturdays are the polar opposite of the ones I work with during the week: the neediest of the needy at a very needy school. They're desperate for love and attention, and need all the help they can get. I absolutely adore them. It's also super fun to see how God has uniquely equipped me to serve exactly where I am. I spent years in Title 1 learning how to relate to these kids, and now I've gotten to spend a year learning the best possible ways to raise the achievement of 4th graders. It feels great to be able to use my skills for something worthwhile.

Tomorrow is Easter, and even more so than other years, I'm so grateful for the grace and healing I've received. The past couple of weeks haven't been the greatest. I got to read my kids' TAKS papers, and I wasn't thrilled with what I saw (they did just fine... I'm just a perfectionist who has unreasonable expectations). I also found out I may have to change grades again next year, and to say I'm not thrilled at the prospect would be a huge understatement. But, in the midst of all the drama, I'm at peace because I know that the God who loved me enough to give up his son knows exactly what will happen and is completely in control.

Happy Easter!

any age but this one

As school years go, this one is still going quite well... a pretty sad commentary on how the previous six years have gone.

4th grade is still easier, and I love my kids. However, teaching the same lesson over and over all day long is almost painful. By the time I get to the last class I'm sick of reading the same book and saying the same words. Yes, the lesson gets better each time I do it, but the basic content is the same. I'm also often frustrated with the attitude that our school scores well on state tests, so we don't need to learn new, research-based teaching methods. We're totally stuck in the 80s. Perfect example: I had to call someone to remove a set of textbooks from my classroom from when I was IN 4th grade. I recognized the book because it was MY basal reader (not literally my copy, but the same book).

I haven't been writing much either which is ironic considering that I now devote my entire day to teaching writing. I'd even convinced myself that I no longer enjoyed writing. Then I realized the truth: I don't enjoy consistently writing for an audience of fourth graders.

I spend my days teaching children that their lives matter, and they do. But, when I look at my life and at the things I value enough to write about, my things aren't things nine year olds want or need to hear. They aren't even, for the most part, happy, encouraging stories. I need to write about how different being grown up is than I thought it would be and how I feel so left behind. I need to tell the story of sitting heartbroken in a cold parking lot at 1:00 am while the two women I was with sat on either side of me talking about the joys of pregnancy and newborn babies. I need to verbalize all the ways God has made himself visible to me during a really difficult season of doubt. I do NOT need to spend hours writing the stories of riding Disney's latest rollercoaster or dressing up as Snow White for Halloween... but those are the stories I have to write.

I'm ready for this life stage to be over. The current mentor text for my students is Eleven by Sandra Cisneros, and it's outstanding. The little girl in the story, Rachel, talks about wishing she was any age but eleven because her eleventh birthday was such a painful day. I cried the first time I read through the story because I relate on more levels than I'd like. Not only do I know exactly what it feels like to be a child who desperately wishes to escape her own reality, but lately I regularly wish I was any age but twenty-eight. Actually, not any age, but quite a bit older. Past the point where every few days another friend announces a pregnancy and I feel jealousy and sadness instead of the happiness I want to feel. Past this age where having children is all that anyone my own age can seem to talk about. Past twenty-eight and maybe all the way to fifty. I don't want to take any chances.

starting over... again

Today is the last day of summer.

For a variety of reasons, I'm dreading the first day of work. I think that's relatively normal (it takes a special person to WANT to go back to work after vacation), but for me it's a little out of the ordinary. Usually by the end of the summer I've gotten excited, so for the past couple of weeks I've waited for the excitement to kick in. It didn't happen at my late summer trainings. It didn't happen when I started preparing my room or when I saw my friends. I'm down to less than a day... it still hasn't happened. It isn't going to, and this morning I finally realized why: if I made a list of things I like, not a single one would apply here. I like consistency and familiarity and knowing the answers. As of tomorrow, I'll have none of those things. Like a kindergartner on the first day of school, I'm starting from scratch.

I've made a lot of changes over my six years of teaching, but in every instance, there was one safe thing about school for me to grab on to... in recent years, being an expert in the kinder curriculum. This year there's nothing. Even if I like it, there's basically no chance I'll actually be good at teaching 4th grade the first year. It took three years in kindergarten before I really felt competent, and that was an age group I had experience with. My teammates may be the best ever, but I still have to get through the awkward beginning of three new relationships (perhaps the thing I hate most in the world). Everyone says I'll love 4th grade, and I may... but right now it's all a giant unknown.

So, this morning I was asked if it was possible to be joyful in the midst of the uncertainty. The obvious correct answer is yes. In reality, it's very difficult. The one definition that's stuck with me out of all the character traits I've taught this year was the one for joy: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God. Joy inevitably comes back to trust. Do I trust that God's plan is best? Yes. 100%. The problem is that whether or not it's ultimately best, I've come to associate God's plan for my life with misery. That doesn't exactly breed joy.

Is this an opportunity for growth? Yes, a great one I'm sure. A push out of my comfort zone into what will undoubtedly be a more challenging job. A chance to relinquish some of the control I so desperately grasp for and accept that God will always be the only constant in my life. I see no way around growth. But what has happened the last ten times I've had an opportunity for growth? Something incredibly painful... broken relationships, difficult realizations about myself, loneliness. The final outcome has always been in some way healing and rewarding, but the road is rough. How do I look at a year that, in many ways, will certainly be painful and still feel joy?

I don't know the answer. Well, I can quote plenty of applicable verses, but I don't know what that looks like in my life. I guess I get to start growing now though because the only thought that's getting me through the day is that God doesn't change. No matter how alone or confused or out of control I feel, what I know of Him and His character will always be the same.

This year He's the one thing left to grab on to.

it's been awhile...

Since I last posted in May, I've thought many times that I should write something then realized I had nothing to write about. Well, really I guess plenty of things have happened, but none of them seemed worth writing about in isolation. Now that summer is almost over, enough things have piled up.

Summer has been good, maybe the best since I started working, for many reasons. Obviously, it's nice to have two months off work, but usually by this point in the summer, I'm done. This year that hasn't happened. I've been busy with friends and activities, and really, I haven't had more than two days in a row without plans. That's a first. I did an amazing summer Bible study where I was blessed to be in an adult small group with the mothers of the girls in my little girl small group. I joined a book club. I went swimming and played with my dog and read for hours on end. I haven't tied anyone else's shoe. It's been a refreshing break.

This week I completed a long standing baby step by taking the GRE. Most people would put off a test like that because of concerns about a low score, but not me. I put it off because of fear of doing well and where that would lead me. When I sat at the computer looking at my score, I knew I'd been right.

When I chose my major in college (almost ten years ago...), I based my decision mostly on ease. I mean, I love kids, but ultimately I chose teaching over another kid-friendly field because it would require the least academic effort and would produce the fastest result, as in no need for grad school. After living the first 18 years of my life as the textbook overachiever, I wanted a break, but the longer I've taught, the more I've regretted my decision and the more trapped I've felt. I wasn't qualified to do anything else, and at some point, I stopped believing I was even capable.

So, as I expected, my test score presented a dilemma: take the easy route through grad school too as I originally planned or take a more challenging route that would require more work but lead to a more desirable outcome. Had I scored poorly, I wouldn't have had an option, but I did well. It was fairly simple to tell myself the easy path was best before I had this tangible proof that I was selling myself short, but the instant I looked at the screen, I lost the tenuous hold I had on that lie.

I want to finish grad school with no regrets... knowing that I did the best I could rather than slacking off... and to that end, I've decided to start down the harder path, the one I should have started ten years ago. It's going to take longer and require taking a few prerequisites, but I know I'm making the right choice.

The next two weeks should be my least scheduled of the summer, and I'm looking forward to the down time. Unfortunately, after that school will start. Year seven. I never thought I'd teach this long, but at least now there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

she would be elastigirl...

This week is Teacher Appreciation Week at my school. The rest of the world celebrated two weeks ago, but, SURPRISE! We HAD to be different. Must be tradition...

Anyhow, this morning we were talking about things our schools had done in the past, and I remembered my absolute all time favorite: the "How well do you know your teacher?" quiz. Here are a few select answers from last year...

What is your teacher's favorite kind of music?
-quiet music
-puppy music
-Baa, Baa Black Sheep (THEIR favorite song)

What does your teacher do when she's not in school?
-She has to rest because the class is so wild. (Shockingly accurate!)
-thinks about us
-gets a substitute

When your teacher was a child, what did she want to be when she grew up?
-Miss America
-a ballerina
-a psychologist

If your teacher had only one wish, what would it be?
-a cake (obviously knew me well!)
-to be a superstar
-to lose a tooth
-to live where she works (if he ONLY knew...)

What is your teacher's favorite saying?
-I can change your folder in a heartbeat. (Ha!)
-Hang your backpacks up!
-May I have your attention, please?
-Get on the carpet!
-I love you, precious. (Aw...)

What is your teacher's favorite pastime?
-spending time with her students
-saying "You can't do that!" but really we can
-getting food while we're at specials

And the best of all...

If your teacher were a superhero, which one would she be and why?
-She would be Elastigirl on The Incredibles. She is tall, and it would be awesome if she could grab kids all the way across the room. She would even be able to get her lunch tray without leaving her desk.

Hilarious and free... and the best gift I've ever gotten.

29 and counting...

The past week has been a series of extreme ups and downs... I REALLY hate change!

After going back and forth about 50 times, I think that I've finally adapted to the idea of teaching 4th grade. It's helped that my kids have suddenly become crazy needy and fussy (a little odd at this point in the year). Two of them cried today over an art project. Seriously. All of a sudden little ones are SO much less appealing! I've also gotten more support than I ever could have dreamed. One of the benefits of the small town feeling of my district is that I can e-mail the writing specialist (who I actually know) and have her show up with supplies in hand solely to calm me down. After our meeting this afternoon, I feel confident that things will be ok... I won't be doing this alone.

So I'm getting excited, but parts of this still suck. I was looking forward to not having to pack up my whole room for the first time in my entire career, but instead I'm moving again. After four years, I'd finally gotten my room exactly the way I wanted it, and now the vast majority, if not all, of my stuff will be completely inappropriate. I get depressed when I start thinking about it all... particularly the thought of having to retire my Lakeshore kids (yes, I realize that's pathetic), so I'm choosing to attempt denial. It's been bad enough sorting through the stuff that never rated unpacking after the last move, so I'm putting off the good stuff until the last possible minute. I figure I've still got about three weeks before I absolutely have to face packing and storing or giving away all my favorite things...

Anyhow, it's late, and I have no idea how to end this, perhaps because I'm exhausted from the stress of this week. At least it's one more week down, and now I have the weekend to rest. Only 29 days to go...

an unexpected change

I feel like I should be in Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse because all I can say is "Wow."

Yesterday afternoon I got a somewhat frantic call from my principal wanting to know if I could come meet with her. Now. Right now. Please? And it's nothing bad. Don't worry. RIGHT. Because when your boss calls you 15 minutes before it's time to leave and suddenly needs to meet with you RIGHT NOW that's usually great.

So, I finished tutoring somewhat absentmindedly while I tried to figure out what she could possibly want to talk to me about. When the bell rang, I walked my kids to their cars and headed apprehensively into the office. Then my organized, well-planned, inflexible world fell completely apart.

She asked me to move to 4th grade as the one and only writing teacher. On so many levels this will be a great move. I love writing. It's by far my greatest academic strength (when it comes to teaching anyway), and while I love my babies, their writing can only go so far. I was getting a little bored in kindergarten because my part had become so familiar, and now I'll have a whole new realm of skills to learn and teach. With bigger kids, I'll be able to DO all the things I've learned in theory. I'll really be able to write. It sounds like my dream job, and in many ways it is... except it's not kindergarten.

The downside to principals beginning to plan for the next school year in February is that everyone starts planning for the next school year in February. I had next year completely laid out in my mind, and it didn't involve 4th grade. I've been thinking and talking about it for 3 months. I was finally feeling comfortable in my new school and loving working with my teammates. Next year was going to be amazing. There was no place in my plan for this sort of change.

And on a deeper level, I had never seriously considered leaving kindergarten. I'd thought about teaching 4th grade in the way I might think about picking up and moving to Australia... it was an interesting idea but not something that I would ever actually do. I love being their first teacher. I like that they fight over who gets to hold my hand. I get to see their writing progress from nothing to pages, and I watch them begin to read. This afternoon one of my little girls snuggled up in my lap with a book and started reading to me, and my heart ached. I'm not quite ready to let that go.

But I have to. I have six more weeks of kindergarten, and then I have to grow up... and even though I can list off a million reasons 4th grade should be a perfect place for me, I do NOT like this plan. It happened so fast I'm still in shock. Every single person I've told has said that 4th grade writing is THE perfect job for me, but I'm not so sure. It's a HUGE change, and even though everyone else seems so confident I can do it, I'm not. I'm terrified.

Wow. I'm going to teach 4th grade. I wonder how many times I'll have to say that for it to finally sink in...

hiding in plain sight

This month has been rough... stressful, frustrating, painful... not one I want to redo.

Work has been a challenge. Since day one in 2003, I've doubted whether I should have ever chosen teaching as my profession. The past few weeks have brought that question back to the forefront. I have to admit, year six has been the easiest by far. I've finally found my stride, and I'm confident in what I'm doing. My new school is actually a decent place to work. People are happy there... but I still don't really care for teaching. That, however, is nothing new.

The thing that has been most different has been my social life. I actually have one. I've stayed busy with both old friends and newer ones. I've never been this busy with people. Ever.

In spending so much time with people, I've become painfully aware of how far I've fallen back inside myself. I go out several times a week, but few of these people really know me. I've kept them outside. My walls have gone back up. As I've slipped rather quickly back into my old comfortable habits, no one has noticed... because they don't know to look.

Two years ago I was less obviously social, but the people who I did spend time with knew me deeply. They knew my whole story, beginning to end, down to the most shameful details. They knew what my struggles were and noticed when I was starting to head down a dangerous path. Those relationships were excruciating for me because they required a kind of trust I still lack, but they also produced more growth and change than any before or since. I miss that.

I can list several big triggers in my life right now, but without a doubt, the biggest one is knowing that I will be making my way through the day alone and unknown, wishing that I had someone to talk to who would really understand. That one's hard to fix...

week two

The past week has been hugely frustrating.

By the time I picked my class up Monday morning I was pretty sure that it wouldn't go well. Unfortunately, I was right. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from the stress of the previous week, so every little thing felt like the end of the world. Not to mention the fact that my job is pretty emotionally demanding. Five year olds are needy, and they can't turn that off when I have nothing left to give. I was barely getting by taking care of myself. I was not up to taking care of 16 other people. At any rate, I survived... barely. My desk has morphed into one big pile of relevant verses, and just reminding myself to believe them has been a full time job.

As I prepare for tomorrow, I'm feeling a rising sense of dread. The weekend has been wonderful, but tomorrow I'll be back in the real world, dealing with all the stress that goes along with it. I know all the right answers... trust God, cry out to Him, immerse myself in His truth... and all of those things DO lessen the stress. I've been in survival mode for two weeks though. I can't sustain this much longer.

Despite the frustration and mood swings and fear of what they may mean for my future, I am clinging desperately to the joy I have. I heard a really great definition for joy a few weeks back: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God no matter what. I've been repeating it to myself hundreds of times a day over the past two weeks. Trust leads to peace which leads to joy. The trust is what gives me the peace and joy I need to get through the day... so trust is what I'm working on.

a new, boring year

The past few weeks have been long and relatively uneventful. The two most interesting events? I've started running, and I have a college intern in my classroom for the semester.

So, event one... running. Last year I took up cycling which I enjoyed, and ever since, I've been tossing around the idea of a sprint tri. Most people seem to be scared off by the swimming piece, but for me it's been running. I hate it. Perhaps it's the memories of miserable predawn runs in middle school or the fear of agitating my old knee injury (more likely it's that I'm lazy...). Regardless, I've never been a fan. Why did I finally give in? We planned a trip to Hawaii. Nothing like the threat of a week spent in a swimsuit to motivate me to exercise!

I've made it an entire month now without quitting, and this week I noticed I actually look forward to running after work some days. It helps that I can see the effects... my legs are looking and feeling stronger, and when we rode last weekend, the ride was a breeze. Maybe I've made it over the hump.

Now, event two... intern. Last fall, after watching a pretty awful teacher mentor someone, I offered to take a student teacher. On Tuesday, she came for the first day of her first semester. Assuming all goes well, she'll split time with me and a 4th grade teacher at my school through her graduation next fall. Crazy!

After day one, she seems great. I think I'll enjoy having someone around to help out, and it's nice that she thinks I know what I'm doing! I have to admit though, I felt SO old. I'm not, really. I'm only 5 years older than she is, but I remember how old I thought 27 was when I was 22. And it is a big difference life experience wise. I've been teaching for SIX years (a point I never intended to reach), married for over three. She's still in college.

Anyhow, the spring promises to be interesting. I'm preparing for a 5k in March, just before our trip, and I just have a feeling this whole intern thing will provide lots of entertainment.

Maybe my entries will pep up soon...

vindication

Lunch at reading staff development...


trainer: I brought my Daily 5 book in for you to look at... it's basically what you already teach.

me: I thought so, but since everyone keeps talking and talking about how different it is I started to wonder...

trainer (annoyed): Well, for some people it is VERY different. We've been telling them since 2002, but did you know some of these schools still use THE LETTER PEOPLE?!?

me: Yes... that would be where I work.

trainer (whispering, with a look of horror): You don't do that... do you?

voting day

Discussion during community circle this morning...
(Preface: We have the "Who loves/hates God" discussion at least once a day... BIG deal in my class)


kid 1 (screaming over everyone else): I NEED TO TELL YOU THAT MY MOM SAYS ROCK OBAMA IS NOT A CHRISTIAN! HE HATES GOD!!

me: Ok... thank you. Shhh!

kid 2: Today's voting day! My mom's voting for John McCain because he has the Christian girl. She LOVES God.

kid 3: Yeah. My parents are voting for him too. I know we like John McCain cause he's Upublican.

me: Oh, you like John McCain because he's REpublican?

kid 3: Yeah. Upublican.

kid 4: I know a lot of people like Rock Obama because he's not as old.

me: Well, that's true. Some people do like BARACK Obama because he's younger than John McCain.

kid 5: I know why I like Rock Obama... It's because I'M Mexican!

kids (whispering to each other): What's Mexican? Do you know what that means?

kid 1: She likes Rock Obama, so Mexican must mean... SHE HATES GOD!


and this is why I will never equate loving God with supporting a specific candidate...

the best friday EVER

Friday is known in my classroom as Letter Person Day.

Now, if you know me at all, I'm sure you've heard that I abhor the Letter People. They rank second only to Cooking Wednesday on the list of activities that require lots of effort and are a complete waste of time. As a curriculum, the Letter People are fine for Pre-K (although I think they look completely creepy), but kindergarteners have to move faster than one letter a week... I know, heresy! At any rate, today was not only Halloween but LETTER PERSON DAY!!!!! Yes, the Letter People outrank Halloween with my class.

So, this morning I was in a particularly good mood and decided to pull down the two giant boxes of Letter People I've been hiding in my closet and blow them up to decorate our room before we went to meet the new one. I can't stand them, but I knew it would make my kids' day. As predicted, when my kids walked in and saw our room filled with Letter People, they flipped. I thought they might all pass out from sheer joy.

"Do we get to KEEP them?!?"
"How did they get here?!?"
"It's ALL of them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Can we give them a hug?!?"

Our very own set of Letter People. Life is now complete.

And every bit of that story was just background for the rest :-)

We have Writer's Workshop every single day, and it's one of my kids' (and my) favorite times. On a normal day, everyone sits down and starts to write without much prompting... Halloween does not count as a normal day.

After our minilesson, they get up to get notebooks and instead of getting to work, they start talking, walking around, playing with friends, etc. Now, on a normal day, this is totally unacceptable, and Halloween is no different in my mind. I stopped them and let them remind me of the expectations, but within, oh, two minutes, they were off task again. At this point, I threatened to sign folders and take away part of recess... still no good. It is Halloween after all. So, in a moment of frustration I responded, "You have until 0 and then I am taking away one Letter Person at a time until you are following our kindergarten rules."

Before I could even start counting every single child was silently writing, and not a one of them moved until I called them to clean up.

I guess the Letter People are good for something after all!

(a very blurry view of our new cubby decor)

a compliment... and my frustration

This week my classroom has been a revolving door for the various behavior experts in the district. As always, I have some... challenging behaviors. For some reason I just seem to attract those kids. I can't really complain though... I love those darlings quite deeply.

Yesterday my babies got one of the best compliments I've ever received. A behavior specialist came in to observe and at the end of her visit she commented that my class was very supportive and well bonded for the beginning of the year... that they took care of and watched out for each other in a special way.

To me, this is nothing out of the ordinary. I've always had a gift for building those relationships with children. My class is bonded. They do love each other well, even the ones who are at times hard to love. It's an attitude that was introduced the first day we met, and by the time June comes around we'll all be crying on our way out the door. They are becoming a family.

Though I'm glad that I can build those relationships with my students, I find it incredibly frustrating that I just cannot form those same tight relationships with my peers. I know how to make it work better than anyone else I know in a classroom. Why can't I do it with my own life?

I know some of the answers. My fear holds me back, and taking risks with adults is much more intimidating than risking with children. I recognize that I play games with people... set them up to fail me because I'm so sure that they will. And my naturally introverted personality doesn't make relationship any easier either.

I've been burned so many times that I imagine trusting other adults is one of those things that will always be difficult for me, but I wish that it wasn't. I long for safe, consistent relationships... not the isolation that comes with my fear.

I assume that as with most fear, the longer I challenge it, the smaller it will become. For now I will just have to wait and hope...

finally!

It took almost exactly a month, but I finally feel settled again.

In case anyone was unsure, I do NOT do transitions well! I hate change, particularly change that I don't have any control over. I like consistency and order and rules, and when I don't have those things, my whole little world is thrown out of whack... seriously. I just cannot handle it.

So, this afternoon, I was sitting at my computer trying to catch up on e-mail when a mom walked in the room to discuss her daughter's struggles with transitions. What a timely topic, right? I listened quietly and attentively and tried to add some nonspecific advice from time to time, but the whole time I'm sitting there thinking "If you only knew who you're talking to..." I'm basically her daughter in grown up form.

Luckily, despite all my fear and frustration and sadness (and at times fit throwing), most of my recent changes have gone well. Me, the girl who's pretty much always hated teaching, found herself sitting with her kids this afternoon truly enjoying her new job. And GroupLink, for all my fussing, turned out really well. I'm actually having FUN meeting the new people (yes, H... I owe you an apology!).

This feels very disjointed, but I guess it's just going to be that way because I've been busy being my typical social butterfly self. No time to write, and now it's time for bed ;-)

Thanks for the prayers and comments during my transition drama... I am SO thankful it's over!

loneliness

The first two weeks with my new class have gone by more smoothly than any before. Perhaps it's because I'm more experienced, finally confident in what I do. Maybe it's just the mix of kids or as my teammates have suggested, the luck of the draw. I prefer to think that God knew I had enough on my plate and gave me some grace. Whatever it is, I'm thankful to be enjoying teaching for once.

What I'm not enjoying is the loneliness that always seems to happen with significant change. I know there are others around me feeling it too. A little girl from my old campus hugs me every time she sees me in the hall though I barely knew her before. One of my former students, now a big first grader, called my cell phone this afternoon just to talk. I hang out with my former co-workers far more now than I ever did when we worked together, and I'm not even begging :-) I guess starting over is hard for us all.

Though it's not particularly fun, I can accept that loneliness. I chose this new start, and I know that the newness will wear off eventually. What I cannot come to terms with are the broken relationships and pain going on all around me because of the selfish and arrogant choice of one woman. Yes, I'm greatly simplifying the intricacy of relationship and giving her a lot of power, but unfortunately, it's not an exaggeration... being in a place of leadership, she held significant power in many lives. Hundreds of people are hurting, and unlike her, none of us had the luxury of choosing this path.

The past month has been almost completely consumed by navigating this conflict, and I often wake up wondering when things will finally feel settled again. I'd become spoiled with having such a large community. I knew that someone was always an e-mail or a phone call away, but now that I can count my friends on one hand, I frequently find myself alone. I'd forgotten how miserable and suffocating that can feel... it's not a feeling I've missed.

The obvious solution to my problem (as someone was so kind to point out to me this week) is to make new friends. I found that statement offensive... as though I could just go out and pick up friends like milk at the grocery store. If only it were that simple.

Tomorrow afternoon my husband and I will set out on the path to do just that: miraculously make new friends at GroupLink. To say that I'm skeptical would be a gross understatement. I've never exactly been trusting, and after the events of recent weeks, the last thing I want to do is dive headlong into relationship with people I am randomly paired with... but since I have no better idea, I'm giving it a shot.

I need people... real, live, tangible people who share my beliefs and will love and challenge me to keep going down the right path... and for the moment I'm just going to have to trust that somewhere in all of this mess God has a plan that I am unable to see.