12 Highlights of Christmas

Today I'm packing up Christmas.  So long, nutcrackers.  Goodbye, ornaments.  See ya next year, snowmen.  Good riddance, Sid Vicious!  Before we dive into 2014, here are some memories of this Christmas:                     1. Baking with my children.  This year, Katherine and I made peanut brittle together and I taught Jack how to bake bread.  It was fun to spend some quality time with the kids and see them take pride in making gifts for others.      2. Reading.  Between wrapping, baking and shopping, I did find some time to sit by the fire and enjoy a novel!  My next grad class starts in a few weeks so I'm cramming in as much reading for pleasure as I can.           3. Christmas Eve with the Bealles.  Over the river and through the woods to Maryland we go.  We loved visiting with Dad and Carolyn's fun family and enjoying Carolyn's delicious cooking!         

4. Vacuuming.  This is not probably a highlight on most people's lists.  This year, we named our Christmas Tree "Sid Vicious."  With needles are sharp enough to draw blood, (trust me, I did the lights) he is fighting captivity by shedding about a million needles on my living room carpet daily.  I find the whole thing quite amusing, but Paul, who picked out the tree, said we are not allowed to laugh about good ol' Sid until at least next year. 

5. Christmas Morning.  I love sitting in the living room early in the morning before anyone else is awake.  I appreciate my twinkling lights in the quiet, peaceful, dark morning.                   

6. Presents!  Katherine gave me a peg game that she made in shop class.  Jack chose new hand towels for the bathroom that are the perfect color.  Paul surprised me (that is hard to do) with tickets to see a comedy show next month.  These are the gifts I love--thoughtful, heartfelt, creative.  These are the people I love.

7. Celebrating with the Kellys.  Cranberry pork tenderloin, mashed potatoes, brussels sprouts, citrus salad, cookies...mmmm.  We dusted off the china and crystal for Christmas dinner with the gang.      8. Running.  OK, too many cookies.  Also, in a moment of weakness, I was talked into signing up for a half marathon in March.  The training has officially begun!  9.  Sleeping.  Because I can, that's why. I don't even want to think about setting the alarm for 5 am again.  Not yet!

10. Annual Kelly Adventure.  Harold and Shirley are such good sports.  This year we went to see the National Christmas tree and checked out the train exhibit at the US Botanic Garden.  Can you tell which picture is the real Capitol building and which one is constructed from plants?                                         11. Movies.  A family movie that appeals to all four of us is a rare treat.  We all enjoyed The Secret Life of Walter Mitty this year in the comfort of the cushy reclining chairs of the theater.    

 12. My birthday!  I am so happy to be able to start my 43rd year with Kristin and family!  Dinner, games, laughs and cake.  I made a wish and blew out my candles but the truth is, it's already come true. 

 

 

Hope your Christmas was filled

with

 friends, family and fond memories

too.

 





Cousins

This fall we had a fun visit with the cousins.  It was during the government shutdown, so instead of visiting museums in DC, the kids had fun with general mayhem down in the basement.

 

Meanwhile Blossom "helped" Jack with his homework...

 

No fancy plans--just good company, general silliness and lots of ice cream...

 

and of course, plenty of cousin cuteness...

 

 

just the way we like it.  Come back soon!

 

 

Happy Crying

I spent today crying.  Happy, sad, cathartic...a whole week's worth of craziness released in sobs and sniffles.

To catch you up on my week, on Sunday I found out I had lice.  I found this out when a bug fell out of my head.  I teach in an elementary school, so it is probably a small miracle that this was my first (and hopefully last?) bout with the little critters.  I spent most of Sunday afternoon sitting on my toilet with my hair sealed in lice-killing shampoo beneath my shower cap. 

Monday I spent the day sitting at my desk talking to parents.  I don't mind parent-teacher conferences, but they are emotionally draining.  I know, from the parent's perspective, it is important to feel my children are in the right hands.  So, I have to be "on" all day, answering questions, calming anxious feelings, explaining a quarter's worth of progress in 20 short minutes per family multiplied by 22 families. 

Tuesday I had a dentist appointment.  Yes, those of you who know me know that dentists are one of my anxiety triggers.  Luckily, I have a wonderful hygienist named Diane who is very soothing and helpful.  Unfortunately, when I showed up on Tuesday, Diane was not there.  I ended up having a panic attack with a different hygienist (who, I will say, was also wonderful and did not make me feel like a total freak when I burst into tears at the mention of "panoramic x-ray."  I'm pretty sure they put a note in my permanent record, though, and will give Diane a raise when she gets back.)

By Wednesday I was feeling pretty run down and started feeling downright awful.  I knew I was going to have to call in sick when I lost my voice.  Pretty much essential for teaching.

Whew, so you are all caught up.  Today is Thursday and I did, indeed, call in sick.  I spent the morning in bed reading Wonder and drinking hot tea.  It was such a good book and I won't spoil it for you but I spent the last quarter of the book crying my eyes out. 

The thing is, I didn't feel sad all day.  The crying was more an appreciation for my life--my beautiful, wonderful, crazy, imperfect life--and all the wonderful people who love me.  In the book Wonder, one of the characters plays Emily in Thorton Wilder's play "Our Town." In one of the final scenes, she says,  "Good-by to clocks ticking and Mama's sunflowers.  And food and coffee.  And new-ironed dresses and hot baths...and sleeping and waking up.  Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you!"

That's the way I'm feeling today.  Life is complicated and messy and, yes, sometimes difficult.  But it is also too wonderful for anybody to realize.  That's what makes it so amazing.

Congratulations, You Bought A Horse

My friend Alison just bought a horse.  I checked the Hallmark section for the "Congratulations, You Bought a Horse!" cards but I think they were out.  Alison invited me to the barn to meet the newest member of her family.

Meeting Blackjack for the first time.  Can I live here too?

 

You may be wondering how one goes about buying a horse.  Alison began by taking riding lessons.  After a while, she decided to lease one of the horses at the barn and then she fell in love.  She began riding several times a week, as well as working at the barn and volunteering with a therapeutic riding instructor.  Then, she got the sad news that her barn was closing.

 

What would happen to all the horses?  What would happen to Blackjack?  Alison learned that the horses would all be put up for auction.  And that's when the idea began to take shape in her mind.  Maybe, just maybe, she could buy the horse!

 

Here's where the story gets good.  Because, you see, we all have these --call them what you want-- crazy ideas? goals? dreams?  Too often, I think we let our doubts or our fears overtake our thoughts.  We talk ourselves out of our plans before we try them out.  We want to wait until we have more information, more money, more time...

 

 

Alison worked through her plan.  She had Blackjack vetted.  She found him a new home.  And then, she bought herself a horse.  Congratulations on the newest member of your family.  You had a dream.  Then, you made your dream come true.

What Does the Fox Say?

One year, when I taught kindergarten, I had a boy in my class who was a bit quirky, shall we say.   He was short and a little chunky.  His parents always seemed to buy his clothes a few sizes too big, maybe hoping they would last longer as he grew into them.  The result was that he often looked like he was wearing a dress when his t-shirt fell past his knees.

In kindergarten "M" loved two things: Legos and singing.  In first grade, his teacher used to use singing as a reward:  Perform well academically and I'll let you perform with an audience.  M was on a behavior plan that included singing for teachers as his reward.

Fast forward three years and the boy is now in third grade next door to my class.  This morning's windy, rainy weather broke into a beautiful day and we all tumbled out of the trailers onto the playground.  The teachers sat, as usual, on the bench in the middle of the field to keep watch over their flocks.  That's when Lizzie brought M over.

"Guys-- M has a song for you."  she says.

We turn our full attention to M.  As if on a stage, he begins to sing:

Dog goes woof
Cat goes meow
Bird goes tweet
and mouse goes squeak

Cow goes moo
Frog goes croak
and the elephant goes toot

Ducks say quack
and fish go blub
and the seal goes ow ow ow ow ow

But there;s one sound
That no one knows
What does the fox say?

 

At this point he begins to dance all around the bench, all the teachers clapping and cheering as he is singing at the top of his lungs:

 

Ring-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!
Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!
Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!

 

He pauses back in front of us, more animated than I've ever seen him and belts out:

What the fox say?

It was hilarious yet heartwarming at the same time. The song stayed in my head the rest of the afternoon.  I bet the infectious tune stayed with M as well.   Every time I thought of it, I smiled.  I think he did too.  Does this have anything to do with standardized testing or curriculum?  No.  But moments like these are what make teaching worthwhile.

Clicking My Heels Together

I don't own ruby red slippers like Dorothy.  If I did, I would be clicking them together and begging the Wizard of Oz to take me back to Kansas City.

Last weekend I arrived--not by tornado mind you, I flew United--and it was such a fun weekend with my friend Allyson! 

Allyson's dad picked us up at the airport and whisked us away to Atchison, KS faster than you could say yellow brick road.   There, we toured Allyson's hometown--seeing everything from her childhood home to the Amelia Earhart museum.


home sweet home

Allyson and her good friend Amelia!


Then it was back across the river to Kansas City where we were wined, dined and pampered by our wonderful hosts.


Two great guys!

 

Sunday we visited an art museum and took a walking tour of the city of fountains. 

hmmm, where should we go first?

 

 

I couldn't have asked for better weather or better company!  Hoping for another adventure soon!

 

 

Tools for the Toolbox

"What do you use to get your pushpin into a bulletin board?  Probably your thumb.  What do you use to put a nail into a 2x4?"

I am talking about tools with Jack.  Really, I am trying to talk about homework with Jack.  Actually, I would rather NOT talk about homework at all.  It is a rather exhausting topic.  Jack and I agree on this point.  We don't agree on much else, when it comes to homework.

Jack doesn't understand his Algebra homework so he's decided not to do it.  His history homework is hard and boring so he's decided not to do it.  I am trying to convince him otherwise.

That's where the tool analogy comes in.  Sometimes, you can't get the job done without the right tools.  I am trying to tell him that he has a lot of tools available to him:

The tool of time management:  starting homework right after school instead of waiting until bedtime
The tool of teachers: available for extra assistance if he stays after school
The tool of parents: willing to help

If those aren't enough we can get a bigger toolbox--work on reading strategies to make history easier or consider medication to help with focus, for instance.

To me, this all seems perfectly logical.  Jack doesn't seem to hear any of it.  Wait a minute, are those earbuds peeking out from his sweatshirt?  He's not even listening to me.  I am the teacher in a Charlie Brown cartoon, "Whaw, whaaw, whawww..."

Now I am the one banging my head against a 2x4.  I am tired of having the same conversation every week.  I look into my toolbox: 

Tool 1: Try rational argument about the importance of homework.  Offer to help.  Give a pep talk.
Tool 2: Threaten grounding until Christmas.
Tool 3: Retreat into bedroom in my pajamas with a glass of wine.

Nothing seems to be the right fit to get the job done.  I either need more wine or new tools.