Do you regularly over-defrost...everything? Chicken, beef, sausage, cookie dough, ice cream (whoops), rolls, etc. etc.
Do you only first remember something as soon as you've gotten your house/apartment/dorm room locked? And then when you go back to retrieve the forgotten item, do you forget the item you are looking for?
Do you make the world's largest mess every time you cook? I mean, every time...
Do you have the most difficult time finding a pair of jeans that fits? Grrr...
Do you sometimes wish you could go back to the pre-adult world when you were carefree?
Do you have a strange obsession with washing your hands?
Do you convince yourself, in the wee hours of the morning, that 10 more minutes of sleep will actually make a difference?
Do you despise mushrooms, mustard, or Italian sausage?
If you answered yes to any of the above questions, please let me know so I can stop feeling like the quirkiest human being on the face of the earth. Quirks = good. Too many quirks = oddly alienating. Fear not, I'm not having an identity crisis. I just desire company in my world of quirks...
February 21, 2011
February 18, 2011
Teaching = Parenting (sometimes)
Perhaps I feel most contemplative on Fridays. Or most awake. Or most thankful for my kiddos because I know I will go without their presence for several days. Whatever it is, it seems that Friday is the day I'm most likely to blog. Hopefully someday I will feel prompted to blog on Wednesdays or even (gasp) Mondays. Either way, here are some thoughts...
This week we had parent-teacher conferences. Two LONG days back-to-back with a day of teaching the kiddos sandwiched between the conferences. However, when I arrived home late last night, all I wanted to do was spill everything to Daniel. He has learned that sometimes I want to talk when I get home from school, but most of the time, I just want to zone out. So he offered to help me zone out by suggesting one of our favorite shows. However, my response was, "I just want to tell you a bunch of stories." So I did. And my wonderful husband just listened. Oh I love him. I won't be spilling as many details as I did last night, but some of my conversations with parents were so interesting that I just need to share.
1: After a long conference with a pair of parents about a student's performance in my class as well as his behavior outside of school and some other things going on in his life, his dad looked at me in desperation and said, "Okay, we really have no idea what to do here. We are just at a loss. Please, tell us what we need to do. He is not like our other kids, and it seems as if nothing is working. Anything you suggest, we'll do. Please help us." Flabbergasted (and slightly at a loss for words), I stumbled around for a bit. I knew this was a HUGE opportunity, and I didn't want to suggest something ludicrous. I won't divulge what I suggested because that's not the punch line of this story. The punch line is that two desperate parents sat in front of me pleading for me to give them the answer to their son's (not abnormal) problems. Today my heart is heavy for that family, and I certainly hope that what I said gave them hope. Whenever parents tell me about issues their child is having, I always say that their child is not experiencing something unusual. I hope that makes them feel comfortable and as if they are not alone. Either way, my goodness, I learned a thing or two about parenting in that situation. At one point, I even said, "I'm not a parent, so I'm not entirely sure what to suggest, but if I was..." What an opportunity to offer parenting advice as a young, non-parent to veteran parents. So sweet and special.
2: I came close to crying during this conference. Again, after a long conference with a mother about a student's performance in my class and his behavior outside of school, I felt as if I needed to confide in the mother about some behaviors I had noticed in my classroom. We began to put some pieces together, and the mother was in tears. She was so broken up about her child and the decisions he was making. Again, I heard, "We have no idea what to do. He doesn't listen to us. We just hope we can make it through." I, of course, reminded her that her child is not out of the norm for the decisions that are being made, and maybe that helped a little, but we were talking about HER little baby, so no matter what I said, her heart was tearing in two. Finally, in tears, she said, "Can I ask you a favor? Would you talk to him? I think he would listen to you." Wow. I told her that I would, so now I anxiously await a time on Tuesday when I can sit down with the kiddo and have a conversation. So powerful.
3: On a lighter note...in a sweet conversation with a couple who does not speak much English, the man attempted to make small talk at the end of the conference and asked me a few personal questions. They went like this..."In Topeka, hot or cold, where you were." "Oh it's about the same temperature as where I'm from." "I see. Big or small?" "It's definitely a bigger city than what I'm used to." For a night of heavy conversations, it was a sweet, humorous moment. He thanked me for my time as he left, and shook my hand for about 10 seconds (we all know that is a LONG handshake).
After I finished telling Daniel all these stories (and more), he said, "How about we never have teenagers. We can be a foster home for any kid before they turn 13." Honestly, the more I work with teenagers, the more that seems appealing. I don't know how many times I've heard in the last two days, "We try to keep them from the harmful things, but it seems we can't shelter them from everything." True story. And each time, I would offer (oh goodness, I hope this is good), "You know, if they are going to make mistakes, they might as well make them in high school when they have mom and dad at home to take care of them." Yikes. So here's to hoping that this teaching experience teaches me to be a perfect parent. Ha. Realistically, I just hope that the lessons I learn stick with me until our future children are teenagers. Don't worry though, we've got at least 20 years before that happens. :)
It's a beautiful day outside, and it's calling my name. Until next Friday, or perhaps sooner...
This week we had parent-teacher conferences. Two LONG days back-to-back with a day of teaching the kiddos sandwiched between the conferences. However, when I arrived home late last night, all I wanted to do was spill everything to Daniel. He has learned that sometimes I want to talk when I get home from school, but most of the time, I just want to zone out. So he offered to help me zone out by suggesting one of our favorite shows. However, my response was, "I just want to tell you a bunch of stories." So I did. And my wonderful husband just listened. Oh I love him. I won't be spilling as many details as I did last night, but some of my conversations with parents were so interesting that I just need to share.
1: After a long conference with a pair of parents about a student's performance in my class as well as his behavior outside of school and some other things going on in his life, his dad looked at me in desperation and said, "Okay, we really have no idea what to do here. We are just at a loss. Please, tell us what we need to do. He is not like our other kids, and it seems as if nothing is working. Anything you suggest, we'll do. Please help us." Flabbergasted (and slightly at a loss for words), I stumbled around for a bit. I knew this was a HUGE opportunity, and I didn't want to suggest something ludicrous. I won't divulge what I suggested because that's not the punch line of this story. The punch line is that two desperate parents sat in front of me pleading for me to give them the answer to their son's (not abnormal) problems. Today my heart is heavy for that family, and I certainly hope that what I said gave them hope. Whenever parents tell me about issues their child is having, I always say that their child is not experiencing something unusual. I hope that makes them feel comfortable and as if they are not alone. Either way, my goodness, I learned a thing or two about parenting in that situation. At one point, I even said, "I'm not a parent, so I'm not entirely sure what to suggest, but if I was..." What an opportunity to offer parenting advice as a young, non-parent to veteran parents. So sweet and special.
2: I came close to crying during this conference. Again, after a long conference with a mother about a student's performance in my class and his behavior outside of school, I felt as if I needed to confide in the mother about some behaviors I had noticed in my classroom. We began to put some pieces together, and the mother was in tears. She was so broken up about her child and the decisions he was making. Again, I heard, "We have no idea what to do. He doesn't listen to us. We just hope we can make it through." I, of course, reminded her that her child is not out of the norm for the decisions that are being made, and maybe that helped a little, but we were talking about HER little baby, so no matter what I said, her heart was tearing in two. Finally, in tears, she said, "Can I ask you a favor? Would you talk to him? I think he would listen to you." Wow. I told her that I would, so now I anxiously await a time on Tuesday when I can sit down with the kiddo and have a conversation. So powerful.
3: On a lighter note...in a sweet conversation with a couple who does not speak much English, the man attempted to make small talk at the end of the conference and asked me a few personal questions. They went like this..."In Topeka, hot or cold, where you were." "Oh it's about the same temperature as where I'm from." "I see. Big or small?" "It's definitely a bigger city than what I'm used to." For a night of heavy conversations, it was a sweet, humorous moment. He thanked me for my time as he left, and shook my hand for about 10 seconds (we all know that is a LONG handshake).
After I finished telling Daniel all these stories (and more), he said, "How about we never have teenagers. We can be a foster home for any kid before they turn 13." Honestly, the more I work with teenagers, the more that seems appealing. I don't know how many times I've heard in the last two days, "We try to keep them from the harmful things, but it seems we can't shelter them from everything." True story. And each time, I would offer (oh goodness, I hope this is good), "You know, if they are going to make mistakes, they might as well make them in high school when they have mom and dad at home to take care of them." Yikes. So here's to hoping that this teaching experience teaches me to be a perfect parent. Ha. Realistically, I just hope that the lessons I learn stick with me until our future children are teenagers. Don't worry though, we've got at least 20 years before that happens. :)
It's a beautiful day outside, and it's calling my name. Until next Friday, or perhaps sooner...
February 11, 2011
Friday 'flections: Atticus knows best.
My freshies had their To Kill a Mockingbird test today, so many of Atticus' wise words are still roaming around my mind. Today I experienced something that caused me to pause and think of one of Atticus' most famous lines.
Side-note: Have you read To Kill a Mockingbird? I'm sure you have. You were probably between the ages of 14 and 16. Let's pretend you haven't read it OR you didn't really read it in high school OR the only thing you've read with "Mockingbird" in the title is on SparkNotes OR you are on the hunt for a new read... Pending you just pretended what I suggested, you should read this book. Please. If you can put down this book without having had a major revelation, you will need to check your pulse. And I say that with every bit of kindness that I can. Be prepared for the way you view people to be turned topsy-turvy. Before I offend anyone (again?), let's move on...
Today I had a student who was checking his cell phone during the test. He had already received his free warning earlier in the semester, so when I saw it happen this morning, I was like a dog on peanut butter (they like that stuff, right? I know, I know, they're not supposed to eat it, right Dr. Laura?). Let me cut to the chase.
I asked him for his phone.
He refused.
I gave him the option of handing over the phone or receiving a referral.
He stated that he wouldn't serve any time in detention and refused to give up his phone.
So I walked away and went to write the referral.
About a minute later, he brought his (totally untouched) test to my desk.
He went back to his seat and sat down.
By this point, I was FUMING. Literally. I feared that my non-existent pink eye would turn into raging flames shooting from my eye sockets. I furiously scribbled on the referral notice and gave him a long, drawn-out stink eye. He got out his phone again, I scared him with my eyes, and he put it away.
The lunch bell rang, and my heart was pounding. I told him to stay. I reiterated everything I had said earlier and reminded him of his choices.
He started to walk out.
I told him to stay.
He said, "You can't make me." (I'll be honest. I was slightly terrified at this point.)
I told him he had two choices (nice, huh Tammy?): he could give me his phone and take the test after lunch or go to the office. He chose neither. I suggested that I could have security come pick him up...
Finally, he consented (I can be pretty scary.) and decided to go to the office. Moving on... I explained what happened to his administrator, and she went to visit with him. (It is important to know that my little guy is an English language learner.)
The administrator came to me after having visited with the kiddo, and what she explained to me made me want to burst into tears out of compassion for the sweet guy.
She said:
"Because it's his second phone violation, he thought you would take his phone and a parent would have to retrieve it. He knows that either (a) a parent COULDN'T retrieve it or (b) a parent WOULDN'T retrieve it (a mix of the following: inability to communicate, apathy, and low socioeconomic status). He's willing to finish the test after lunch."
He returned after lunch, and I gave him the test. I said, "Ready to take it?" And what he said was so powerful that it still makes me pause. He said, "Yes. I'm ready. And I'm so sorry for what happened earlier." Naturally, I forgave him. Of course I wanted to give him a huge hug, but that would be wildly inappropriate. Instead, I watched him take his test all the while knowing that even though this kid struggles, he's going to make it.
Atticus encourages his kids to put on other people's skin and walk around in it in order to understand them. I thought I did that, but apparently I didn't try hard enough.
I love it when what I'm teaching teaches me a lesson.
But I love it even more when who I'm teaching teaches me a lesson.
I don't love my job every minute of every day, but today was a day I will always cherish as the day one of my kiddos who struggles through every part of school taught me a life lesson.
I now order you to go to your local bookstore.
Side-note: Have you read To Kill a Mockingbird? I'm sure you have. You were probably between the ages of 14 and 16. Let's pretend you haven't read it OR you didn't really read it in high school OR the only thing you've read with "Mockingbird" in the title is on SparkNotes OR you are on the hunt for a new read... Pending you just pretended what I suggested, you should read this book. Please. If you can put down this book without having had a major revelation, you will need to check your pulse. And I say that with every bit of kindness that I can. Be prepared for the way you view people to be turned topsy-turvy. Before I offend anyone (again?), let's move on...
Today I had a student who was checking his cell phone during the test. He had already received his free warning earlier in the semester, so when I saw it happen this morning, I was like a dog on peanut butter (they like that stuff, right? I know, I know, they're not supposed to eat it, right Dr. Laura?). Let me cut to the chase.
I asked him for his phone.
He refused.
I gave him the option of handing over the phone or receiving a referral.
He stated that he wouldn't serve any time in detention and refused to give up his phone.
So I walked away and went to write the referral.
About a minute later, he brought his (totally untouched) test to my desk.
He went back to his seat and sat down.
By this point, I was FUMING. Literally. I feared that my non-existent pink eye would turn into raging flames shooting from my eye sockets. I furiously scribbled on the referral notice and gave him a long, drawn-out stink eye. He got out his phone again, I scared him with my eyes, and he put it away.
The lunch bell rang, and my heart was pounding. I told him to stay. I reiterated everything I had said earlier and reminded him of his choices.
He started to walk out.
I told him to stay.
He said, "You can't make me." (I'll be honest. I was slightly terrified at this point.)
I told him he had two choices (nice, huh Tammy?): he could give me his phone and take the test after lunch or go to the office. He chose neither. I suggested that I could have security come pick him up...
Finally, he consented (I can be pretty scary.) and decided to go to the office. Moving on... I explained what happened to his administrator, and she went to visit with him. (It is important to know that my little guy is an English language learner.)
The administrator came to me after having visited with the kiddo, and what she explained to me made me want to burst into tears out of compassion for the sweet guy.
She said:
"Because it's his second phone violation, he thought you would take his phone and a parent would have to retrieve it. He knows that either (a) a parent COULDN'T retrieve it or (b) a parent WOULDN'T retrieve it (a mix of the following: inability to communicate, apathy, and low socioeconomic status). He's willing to finish the test after lunch."
He returned after lunch, and I gave him the test. I said, "Ready to take it?" And what he said was so powerful that it still makes me pause. He said, "Yes. I'm ready. And I'm so sorry for what happened earlier." Naturally, I forgave him. Of course I wanted to give him a huge hug, but that would be wildly inappropriate. Instead, I watched him take his test all the while knowing that even though this kid struggles, he's going to make it.
Atticus encourages his kids to put on other people's skin and walk around in it in order to understand them. I thought I did that, but apparently I didn't try hard enough.
I love it when what I'm teaching teaches me a lesson.
But I love it even more when who I'm teaching teaches me a lesson.
I don't love my job every minute of every day, but today was a day I will always cherish as the day one of my kiddos who struggles through every part of school taught me a life lesson.
I now order you to go to your local bookstore.
February 10, 2011
I predict...
- I will have pink eye tomorrow. A student, who is still contagious, came to school with it. I am prone to pink eye (3 months of it my freshman year at Tabor). Is this a hyperbole? No.
- I will use a literary term in each prediction. I am well-versed in literary terms like Brownback is well-versed in education (don't be offended, it's just a figure of speech...a simile, in fact).
- I will forget to do something tonight that I need to do - laundry, pack for the weekend, be a cynical crab, oh wait, I'm already a cynical crab. Name that literary term...
- I will fail to purchase a lemon for my water tomorrow. The kiddos are always confused by my lemon. They think I trap it in my water...and that it's screaming to be released.
- I will make a rock-star caliber birthday meal for my sweet hubs. I told him he could have anything he wanted for his birthday meal, and he chose tacos. He is a man of simple pleasures. He is to his favorite foods as dessert-lovers are to chocolate cheesecake...don't need much, but what you get, you love.
- I will forget to purchase the gift cards that I'm using to bribe my sophomores to turn in their rough drafts on time. Bribes are legal, right? Don't politicians bribe people with at major events, especially ones such as the event that took place on November 4, 2008...
- My eyes will itch like the chicken pox.
February 4, 2011
Friday Foibles
It never fails...Fridays seem to be full of foibles. Every week. Perhaps because I'm letting my guard down and gearing up for a lovely weekend, or perhaps it's God's little way of saying, "This is fun! Laugh. Then you'll be more ready to return come Monday morning." Ugh. Monday mornings. I will refrain from hopping atop my "Monday morning soap-box." I don't hate Monday mornings, I just get real anxious and often have weird stomach things. TMI. Sorry. Anywho...
WARNING: If you are easily offended, do NOT read on. I will do my best to stay PC (my favorite acronym - Politically Correct), but my definition of PC might be a step (or two) below yours. Don't say I didn't warn you...
Today I was working with my 6th hour in the computer lab (why must all foibles occur in the computer lab?!) when I went to help a beached whale [AKA: a student falling behind who needed assistance (I recognize I could have just said "I went to help a student," but I really wanted to try the "beached whale" metaphor - did it work? Don't answer that)].
The students were using google to find information for their mini research projects, and this particular kiddo kept getting hundreds of thousands of options, but he said they were "all too long to read." Some call it laziness, others call it desiring to work efficiently. Whatever. So I knelt beside him to offer my assistance. It is important to note that this student is African-American (or black - whatever you think is most PC). You will find out why soon.
I typed in a few things on the google Advanced search option (have you ever played with that? You so should - it is way cool) and, once again, retrieved hundreds of thousands of options. To prove to him that they weren't "all too long to read," I opened one that I thought would be excellent. (Note: he has been researching California.) After glancing QUICKLY through the article and not entirely realizing what I was doing (an all-too-often occurrence), I told him, "There. Use that one." He looked at me in horror and said, "C! I can't do that! It's against my people!" With a deer-in-the-headlights look, I read the title of the article. It said "The KKK in California." Oh dang. (It gets worse.) Not knowing exactly what to say, I said, "I'm so sorry. I just forgot." To which the student responded, "You forgot that I'm black!?" (Please know that the entire time he was laughing relatively hysterically.) I don't remember what I said, but I think I apologized again and helped him find another source.
Lesson learned: read before you click.
WARNING: If you are easily offended, do NOT read on. I will do my best to stay PC (my favorite acronym - Politically Correct), but my definition of PC might be a step (or two) below yours. Don't say I didn't warn you...
Today I was working with my 6th hour in the computer lab (why must all foibles occur in the computer lab?!) when I went to help a beached whale [AKA: a student falling behind who needed assistance (I recognize I could have just said "I went to help a student," but I really wanted to try the "beached whale" metaphor - did it work? Don't answer that)].
The students were using google to find information for their mini research projects, and this particular kiddo kept getting hundreds of thousands of options, but he said they were "all too long to read." Some call it laziness, others call it desiring to work efficiently. Whatever. So I knelt beside him to offer my assistance. It is important to note that this student is African-American (or black - whatever you think is most PC). You will find out why soon.
I typed in a few things on the google Advanced search option (have you ever played with that? You so should - it is way cool) and, once again, retrieved hundreds of thousands of options. To prove to him that they weren't "all too long to read," I opened one that I thought would be excellent. (Note: he has been researching California.) After glancing QUICKLY through the article and not entirely realizing what I was doing (an all-too-often occurrence), I told him, "There. Use that one." He looked at me in horror and said, "C! I can't do that! It's against my people!" With a deer-in-the-headlights look, I read the title of the article. It said "The KKK in California." Oh dang. (It gets worse.) Not knowing exactly what to say, I said, "I'm so sorry. I just forgot." To which the student responded, "You forgot that I'm black!?" (Please know that the entire time he was laughing relatively hysterically.) I don't remember what I said, but I think I apologized again and helped him find another source.
Lesson learned: read before you click.
February 1, 2011
aleatoire: it's French...
My bestie is home from Africa, and I am so happy. She came to our little apartment on Sunday and I made chili (the recipe said it would be enough for 5, but it was definitely only enough for 2 1/2). We spent the next 6 hours talking. Literally. And I still don't feel like we're caught up. When she left, Daniel said, "I'm going to have to get used to how much you tell her." Yes, we're quite honest with one another, but isn't that what a bestie is for? (I say "bestie" because I'm trying to be cool...like my 15 year old friends I spend all day, every day with...) Beezie, welcome home. We're so glad you're back. We know our "B" room isn't ready yet, but rest assured, the minute you need it, it will be.
Our nephew is perhaps the most wonderful, intelligent, hilarious, and beautiful (I probably can only call him beautiful for a little while longer, so I must use it while I can) 2 year-old on the face of this earth. Last night he: tried a cherry tomato and liked it all the while climbing (not sitting) on my lap, sang his ABC's (l-m-n-o-p sounds like "I gotta go pee..." Admit it. That string of letters was difficult for you, too.), and climbed into a small hutch to "hide" from us (he also figured out how to break out of it himself, which of course lead to more hilarity).
I've always enjoyed kiddos when they reach age 12 or so, but below that has never been my favorite, but that little guy (along with the other three nephews) is quickly becoming one of my favorite people ever. There is something so refreshing about watching a toddler discover things for the first time. Snow. New tastes. Independence (this is perhaps one of the most remarkable things I have ever witnessed. Have you ever had a front-row seat to a child's "terrible-twos" stage? This sweet little guy has incredible parents, and to watch some of the process was amazing. It both terrifies me about being a parent and makes me excited for the challenge. Tammy, please write down everything you do.) I don't think I will ever tire of hearing the little guy call my name when I see him for the first time.
The snowpocalypse is occurring right outside my window. I'm so thankful for the warmth of the indoors, a snow day (#4!) and the fact that my lesson plans are done for tomorrow. Whether you like cold weather or not, enjoy the day! Make the most of it. As for me, I'll just be here...cooking, doing laundry, getting caught up on life, loving my life, and watching "Keeping up with the Kardashians."
PS: "aleatoire" means "random." Of course.
Our nephew is perhaps the most wonderful, intelligent, hilarious, and beautiful (I probably can only call him beautiful for a little while longer, so I must use it while I can) 2 year-old on the face of this earth. Last night he: tried a cherry tomato and liked it all the while climbing (not sitting) on my lap, sang his ABC's (l-m-n-o-p sounds like "I gotta go pee..." Admit it. That string of letters was difficult for you, too.), and climbed into a small hutch to "hide" from us (he also figured out how to break out of it himself, which of course lead to more hilarity).
I've always enjoyed kiddos when they reach age 12 or so, but below that has never been my favorite, but that little guy (along with the other three nephews) is quickly becoming one of my favorite people ever. There is something so refreshing about watching a toddler discover things for the first time. Snow. New tastes. Independence (this is perhaps one of the most remarkable things I have ever witnessed. Have you ever had a front-row seat to a child's "terrible-twos" stage? This sweet little guy has incredible parents, and to watch some of the process was amazing. It both terrifies me about being a parent and makes me excited for the challenge. Tammy, please write down everything you do.) I don't think I will ever tire of hearing the little guy call my name when I see him for the first time.
The snowpocalypse is occurring right outside my window. I'm so thankful for the warmth of the indoors, a snow day (#4!) and the fact that my lesson plans are done for tomorrow. Whether you like cold weather or not, enjoy the day! Make the most of it. As for me, I'll just be here...cooking, doing laundry, getting caught up on life, loving my life, and watching "Keeping up with the Kardashians."
PS: "aleatoire" means "random." Of course.
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