The Bitchy Blog

Okay, so here I am in Edinburgh Scotland. LOVELY!!!! And I can't fit into any of my clothes! They're all just THAT much too tight. How many desserts DID I eat in DC? And what am I going to do since I have a limited wardrobe here... and I have zits... WHAT!!?! I am how many days away from being 50 and I have zits on my face???---A perfect introduction to all the new people I am meeting (sigh) and of course I have my period so I'm emotional again... Didn't I just go through this-- has it really been 28 days already and can't I be done already???!!? So now I have to find a store because you know I didn't bring supplies.... sigh... At least it's raining and I can wear my new raincoat... even if it's tight... I will never be able to wear it in Texas...

I hope my headteacher likes me....

Last minute fun!

I know I should be finishing up all the last minute details but there is a daughter and 3 boys here that need a little of my attention as well. And, considering that I won't see them for 5 months... I deserve some family time... right?

We watched the bats come out last night from under 620 (?) bridge in Round Rock. That was fun. There were clouds and clouds of them for a half hour! I've seen the bats under the Congress Street bridge but this was cool and ... much quieter.

Today we are going to see the Harry Potter movie in 3D at the IMAX...

I am still managing to get stuff done. But before I mow the lawn one last time, I need to update the Project Linus website and I am going to do that right now!

Da Website...

Well I continued work on the website tonight. I needed something that would settle me down and there's nothing like the endless fussing with a website that will calm you down and bore you silly. It's the sheer amount of detail necessary to make it look good and function well! Now, I'd LOVE to have a kickass website like Mrs. Bainbridge or Mrs. Meacham but honestly folks, I'm not sure that I have the stamina for that. This little piddly thing I got going is enough for me.

The site is actually up and live and I could sure use some feedback. If you look at it and you notice things that need to be fixed or MISSPELLINGS (!) puleeze let me know! I have two more sections to work on but I feel like a Bollywood movie right now so maybe I'll just take short break and live it up in the land of tons of eye makeup and belled ankle bracelets...

http://web.me.com/geniaklein/An_American_in_Edinburgh

My Lucky Day....

Those of you who know me, know that I can be incredibly perfectionistic. I hate it. It stops me from doing things because I always want to do them right, but sometimes you just have to do stuff and get it right later on... but I hate doing that.

Anyway, I've been working in the classroom trying to make it accessible for my exchange partner. You know, dragging stuff out of the closet so she can see what is available. Have a few bulletin boards up already so she won't spend her life in the classroom like I do... things like that BUT at the same time, not trying to lay it out so there is no room for her to come in and make it HER classroom... it's tricky. I spend a lot of time second guessing myself... and I know Lorraine is not going to care... I just really want her to love Windermere Primary School as much as I do.... but the Texas educational system is a harsh task master.... I just don't know. What if they no longer allow Fulbright Exchanges from Texas?

So what brought on these doomsday projections into the future? Well today, my principal waylaid me with a yardstick. (The foreboding music should be crescendo-ing right now...) There is to be NOTHING hung within 24 inches of the ceiling unless it's non-flammable. No curtains, nothing hanging from the ceiling... no pretty fabric to dress up the ugly paint. No microwaves, refrigerators and only one lamp allowed. I was absolutely struck dumb. How do I teach with nothing on the walls? No curtains to soften up the space and no lamps? Wasn't that a big part of the whole "Brain friendly" environment we are supposed to create for our students so the classroom is a warm loving space to grow and take risks in????

When I look at how much time and money I invest in my classroom each day/year and then somebody who has no idea of what I do each day comes in to make an arbitrary rule and cites "safety" as an excuse ... Please show me the data on how many students are injured each year because their teacher has things hanging up the walls and off the ceilings? C'mon, show me! BRING IT!

... I THOUGHT I was handling it well but apparently my poker face is not in working order so my principal felt compelled to take us out to lunch to make up for the bad news. That made me feel even more ridiculous....

I am trying to be gracious and amenable but I'm stressed --

I worked until 5:00 today taking everything down and repositioning it.... Then it started to rain so I left and bought a Lotto ticket. It's gotta be my lucky day.

Another task to be checked off

Well, Molly dragged me out of the house this morning to get up to school. There are some things I wanted to put up--- mandatory things that will help my exchange partner so she doesn't have to spend days in the classroom-- but it was really beautiful on the patio and it was hard to leave.

It's hard to remember to not do too much. I want her to feel that the room is hers and at the same time, I know she will be so overloaded by all the information coming at her... We put the tables and chairs in the same place as last year. I liked the layout, but it will serve to get her started on HER room arrangement. I hung up the monthly writing sample board so all she'll have to do is to remember to put the monthly writing samples up there-- but if truth be told, I've been doing this display for years and I'm better some years than others-- we'll see what happens. The word wall is up because it has to be. And we got the paper put up for the Math board. Then we went to get the title for Molly's car and Teacher Heaven. (Did you like how I snuck that in there?) $104.00 poorer I emerged and am now eyeing my loot scattered about on the floor. There's stuff to take to Scotland like a Texas flag and a U.S. flag. There are stickers, books and borders. I bought a new Calendar chart that I will put up in the classroom tomorrow along with the rest of the Calendar Math things. Then I'll double check the desk area, hang the curtains and I think I am finished. It's all yours Lorraine-- I hope you have as much fun each day as I do.

Yay, one more thing!

All I want to do....

I emailed a friend this morning, one I hadn't seen in ages. It was wonderful to get back in touch with her! But as I was giving her a brief synopsis of my life and family up until now, I mentioned this poor neglected blog and thought perhaps I should write something... anything. And too, I have been a little teary lately. Between having my period and getting ready to leave friends and family for 5 months, I suppose there's reasons. BUT if I would blog, then perhaps my heart wouldn't be so full that it needs to come out through my tear ducts... Although, I'm just grateful I got it now instead of in Edinburgh. I could just imagine myself walking about sobbing as I took pictures... yechh. I get very emotional at this time. I remember once crying at a stop light listening to a Buddy Holly song mourning that he died so young... Where is menopause when you want it?

I mentioned to Ada that my modus operendi for the past 10 years is to start school and have no time whatsoever to clean because there are always lessons to be planned and web surfing to be done and so I push off the cleaning business until the summer when I have more time ... but then summer comes and I usually teach summer school which, even though it's a half day, again demands preparation and then... well it's summer and I deserve some time off ... so I take road trips and next thing you know it's August and I'm back in the classroom getting ready for a new year and school starts and itsallablurforthenextninemonths but I'll clean during the summer when I have more time... and what a viscious cycle! FOR 10 YEARS!!! I have boxes in the garage that I didn't unpack when I moved in 10 years ago...

The hardest part of the cleaning is all that I'd LIKE to do. I'd like to install crown molding in the bedroom, but how bad do I want it? Enough to give up money that I might like to use on a once in a lifetime opportunity in Scotland? I think not. I wanted to lay flooring this summer (I have a mish-mash of painted cement floors, carpet, tile and linoleum now). Enough to give up a possible trip to Amsterdam for? Hmmm, probably not... A new fan for the office... a carpet for the livingroom... cabinets for the newly created craft room... a chic laundry room??? Yeah, none of that will happen this summer... for good reason. But, I guess that's also the joy of home ownership. There's always something I'd like to do to make my home more beautiful in my eyes... Yet, I do love to travel.... I'll have memories to savor as I go about selecting the perfect crown molding for the bedroom next year or that Craftsman-style ceiling fan I'll install when I get back-- IF I'm not maxed out on my credit!!! ;)

Well, it happened. I knew it would eventually, but I was holding out for as long as I could-- and today it happened. I ate catfish. Now that might not seem like a big thing to you, but you see, I was born and raised in Minnesota. We have (over) 10,000 sky blue lakes here in Minnesota so we eat fish—on a regular basis. Real regular. Seriously, people go out in little shacks on the lakes in the middle of winter to ice fish in 30 below weather. We take our fishing-- and our fish-- seriously here in Minnesota. Heck, when I was coming back from taking Grandma home, I saw a “Girls Nite Out” at the river. Every one of those ladies had a pole and was baiting her line! In Minnesota, the catfish and bullheads are “trash” fish. We call them “bottom feeders” and we don’t eat them. We eat sunfish and bass and walleye, of course. (We don’t usually eat perch—we are a bit snobbish about our fish up here.) But when I moved down South, well the pressure was enormous! I mean EVERY restaurant in the south serves catfish. And recipes abound for “fried catfish”. I hung on stubbornly to my Minnesotan disdain for those lowly bottom feeders—until today. And I’d have never eaten it except my uncles made it for me…. 

Now I don’t see my uncles often. One lives in Mobile, Alabama and the other lives in Southport, North Carolina. They come up to Minnesota every other year or so to visit their mother and fish. But they fish all the time in their home states… which means that they eat catfish…

Now a Minnesota fish fry is a thing to behold. It begins when the fishermen pull into the driveway. Everyone springs into action as we pull out the tables and top them with wooden boards. We get pails, knives and spoons (to scrape the fish scales off) together with pans full of water because everyone has to pitch in to clean those fish. When they rolled in, we all swung into action... but my uncles brought catfish. Not even bullheads… 

CATFISH.

 

THEY did the cleaning. I provided Toby Keith on the iPhone. (Good As I Once Was- for the catfish—implying, of course, that they’ve lost their mad fishing skills.) All they did was chuckle. And cleaned those fish. They filleted them after they skinned them. Did you know that there is a special tool called a catfish skinner? I found that out today, too. Big learning curve for me today, you betcha. 

Then I witnessed one of the most beautiful things, I have ever had the privilege to see. My uncle opened up the back of his Performance Racing Toyota Tundra (he’s the one from North Carolina, doncha know) and pulled out a Coleman stove, 2 pans, Crisco oil, batter, salt, pepper, paper plates, silverware, the cooking fork and a spatula and was set up for frying in about 5 minutes. 

Why, he even set up a gas grill and grilled a few of those catfish! 

I was astounded at his efficiency and his self-sufficiency. I just had to ask why he even bothered to go home. My other uncle (from Mobile) grunted in agreement but I guess Uncle John loves his wife and family…. Heck, you wouldn’t see me for a good long time… So while I ran around photo documenting all of this as my uncles cooked and cooked. 

Now, how may I ask, was I going to refuse to taste their work with any kind of manners or respect? I have my morals but I am not a cruel person so I did what any good niece would do, I ate catfish.

 

You know, it was pretty good.

 

Home

I’m on vacation “up north”… in Minnesota... the place of my birth… “God’s Country” according to my brother-in-law…. Land of (over) 10,000 lakes and sky blue waters… Home.

 

I thought I would have more time to blog but it’s certainly not turning out that way. I barely have time to update my Facebook status and I’m getting a lot of grief from my family for all the work I’m doing on my website. They’re calling me names like “nerd”, “techie” and I’ve even heard “cyber-junkie” being tossed around in reference to my camera, phone and computer use. (sigh) I’m just misunderstood…

 

Meanderings on Missouri

I spent the night in Misery, oops, I meant Missouri. (Sorry, Steph) Missouri, where everyone talks with a southern accent. Missouri. Home of the Mason-Dixon line and a CONFEDERATE state—say WHAT!?!?!! Missouri, where you’re still in the south--- after driving through Kansas—which is not in the south. I mean seriously, how far North can you be located and still be considered “southern”? It’s a lovely state, I’ll give you that. It’s beautiful, gently rolling green hills and bucolic scenes along the highway are a pleasure to look at. But, it’s nickname is  “The Show Me” state and the home of President Harry S. Truman….Some folks blame him for the length of the Vietnam War... I mean the Vietnam Conflict. Lovely wife, though. A man can’t be all bad when he marries a girl named Bess. Thoughtful people—they’ll correct your pronunciation in a heartbeat and not bat an eye. Lord, don’t tell them you’re from Texas! They’re all over that. I’m not much for pissing contests when I’m in Missouri. I’ll wait until I get home to Minnesota and have to defend my adopted home but I can’t do it in Misery—ummm I mean, Missouri. It’s just not worth it. Okay, so I’m channeling Andy Rooney right now, but when was the last time YOU had to drive through Misery? I mean Missouri.

The Story of Houdini

Most of you know that I have pets. LOTS of pets. Mostly classroom pets, but I also have a few at home. I read somewhere that children who live with pets develop a greater sense of empathy toward all life forms, so we have classroom pets. Many of you also know that I am going to teach in Scotland for the first semester of the next school year, so I needed to find homes for my pets since I did not want to burden the incoming teacher with my menagerie. (She is keeping my housecat, Kato.) Well, Dawn took Charlie, the cockatiel. Kelly took Bunnicula, the dwarf rabbit. Mom took the aquarium and my sister will take Wilbur, the gerbil, and the Madagascar cockroaches-- although she will only allow them to stay in her garage. Which is fine... I happen to treasure my cockroaches and find them beautiful, but many other people find them repulsive.... different strokes and all that. Mikey took the Hermit Crab, Patrick.

The one animal I could not get a home for was Houdini, my mouse. Houdini was so named because of his extraordinary escape artist abilities. No one wants to take care of a mouse that could disappear into their home! The end of the year was winding down and I was still in a quandary about what to do with Houdini so I spent a lot of time talking with him (yes, I talk to my pets) and I noticed that his coat wasn't as glossy as it normally is. I also noticed that he was rubbing a bare spot on his shoulders from trying to lift off the locked cage lid. Finally, on our teacher work day I decided that I would release him into the open field next to our school. Now, I know that animals who are released have a shortened life span but it appeared that captivity wasn't benefiting him either.  At any rate, I wrestled Houdini into his exercise ball (he doesn't like me to touch him) and I walked out across the playground, down the hill to the fence which protects the long, grassy, open field. A perfect habitat for a mouse. I bid Houdini adieu and released him in to the field. I quickly turned and began to walk away back toward the school. I had just stepped onto the playground when I heard two birds begin to shriek. I turned and saw them dive-bombing Houdini who was struggling through the grass, hopping toward me.  I quickly ran back to him and put my hand out. He hopped onto my hand and looked at me with his little nose twitching. Now I was dumbfounded. This mouse would NEVER let me touch him. It was always a struggle to round him up and wrangle him into his ball just so I could clean his cage! And here he was, willingly jumping into my hand and sitting there quietly. I can't even begin to tell you how guilty I felt! I took him back into the classroom, put him back into his cage and decided that I could find someone to take him before I had to leave in August. 

As I moved around the classroom, Houdini followed my every step. His eyes never left me as he ran back and forth in his cage keeping me in view. I loaded up the car with all the pets and plants that I needed to deliver to all the respective keepers. Houdini was going home with me until I could decide what to do. We finished and drove home. I put Houdini on the covered patio along with Wilbur and the cockroaches until I could take them out to Bastrop. My grandkids were thrilled. They love the pets and were busy talking to them and watching them while I went into the house to begin dinner. Soon Mikey came in and asked me why Houdini was sleeping. My heart sank as I rushed outside. Yes, Houdini had died. I must have scared him to death by releasing him. 

I am the worst pet owner in the world.

YaY!!! I have TIME

I know, I know. Time is not real-- Intellectually and scientifically, I understand that it is a human construct to linear-ize (I know it's not a word) our life but I can sure get caught up in it. Of course, I am most susceptible to get caught up in "time issues" when strong emotions are involved. The end of a school year has scads of strong emotion floating around it. This year,  for whatever reason, was a year that I became especially attached to my students. They had so many needs and issues that I could barely keep my head afloat day after day... and yet when I look at the academic and social growth they have made, I am speechless. I know I'm going to sound like I am putting too much cream on my tacos here, but I can really teach-- and not just academics.  I am always floored by this realization because so many times I feel like a "pretend teacher"-- certainly not good enough for those precious children who look up to me each and every day. Truly, it is a miracle they learn as much as they do, but they did and this year, there were REMARKABLE gains. 

But I don't want to talk about my class anymore because it still has a fresh scab on it --and I'm still too close to them --and I need to distance myself and-- it's June. It's time for my life to begin again. It's my turn to renew my Netflicks subscription to see all the movies I have missed from August until now. I have a L-O-N-G list of books I've been meaning to read and for all my talk to my students, I have not seen the interior of the Pflugerville Public Library in so long that I doubt they will remember me.  I have to clean my house because unsuspecting people are coming to live here in a few months and even though my house is 30-something, I still want it to shine and become a haven for them as it is for me... And it's time to drink coffee (or tea) out on the patio and listen to the cottonwood whisper secrets to me. Secrets that I didn't have time to listen to during the school year. It's time to figure out just exactly where the cardinal nest is and my poor gardens need to be pampered. 

A beautiful thunderstorm came up last night. That's big news. In Texas it quite often LOOKS like it will rain but it never actually does. Last night it RAINED. It was breathtakingly beautiful. True, two tornadoes were sighted but nothing actually landed-- as far as I know. And even though there were claims that one of the sightings was not too far from my home, the storm didn't appear to be dangerous as I stood out on the patio and watched the rain sheet off the roof and pound onto the dry, parched ground. My heart leaped in joy as the fresh scent of rain and the cleansing winds tore away all that lingered since the last rains. It was a fresh new start not just for the earth which desperately needed the rains but also for me. A rebirth of sorts. A welcome back. The storm soaked my skirt, washed my face and sent me off to sleep a deep, dreamless sleep. When I awoke this morning, the earth gently gave way as I walked upon it. It was no longer the hard, unyielding, concrete-like material of yesterday, but a soft, warm, life-affirming haven for new life. ... like my soul again.

What DO I do all DAY???

So I mentioned to several friends that I am really doubting whether I taught anything all year-- today proved I have not.

Evidence #1
Gail wrote, "I pick up the can and gave it to the man."
I didn't go off about how we have been studying past tenses for the past two weeks--- no, I took a deep breath and said,
"picked-- you "picked" up the can. It doesn't sound right this way, you need to go back and add -ed."
Gail returned to her table, thought for a while, erased and brought me this back:

"I piedck up the can..."


Evidence #2 and 3:
We were reviewing the -an word family. (I told you we needed to!) and we were brainstorming words that fit in that word family. Juan Pablo raised his hand and said, "san"
No, Juan Pablo, that's not a word. It rhymes but it's not a real word."
"No, no, Ms, Klein," he lisps, "I mean like san. I like to walk on the san."
"Juan Pablo, the word is SAND-- there's a d on the end of that word. That's another word family."
"No, Ms, Klein, I mean like the san on the beach."......

Meanwhile Serenity is waving her hand madly in the air and I call on her,
"Oh, I know one, Ms. Klein. Han, like I am raising my han"....


I have less than 29 days to work a miracle, people...

What to do... What to do...

I've been thinking a lot-- something, unfortunately, that I am prone to do...this time I'm thinking about what people do with their lives (or not, as in the case of one of my sons-in-law) which causes me to reflect upon my own life. Then I realized that this is my third year in second grade. Three years of doing anything seems to be about my limit and here I still am, so I am wondering, what to do?

Three years ago, I was in an emotional mess as I was trying to figure out what my next move would be. I was leaving the position of librarian which I loved dearly. Why did I leave? I will verbally tell you that I left because I did not complete the requirement of obtaining my Master's Degree in the required amount of time. But in my head I am screaming that I had had enough of Higher Education. For those of you with military backgrounds, it was BOHICA, baby, ALL... THE... TIME. I can't tell you how much I hate Higher Education! In college, you're on your back for four years... a Master's Degree requires looking at your toes... I guess a PhD requires scraped knees and a willingness to swallow... It's not for me...but after barely making it out of high school I never in a million years would have thought that I would be NEAR education much less a teacher.... crazy. That just shows you to never give the Universe the finger and tell it you'd never... (insert your own thing you wouldn't be caught dead doing). (Yeah, I even dated a used car salesman...kill me!)

But I'm good at it...teaching, I mean..... Dammit.

Can I blame it on Paulo Freire? His book, "Teaching as a Subversive Activity" inspired me then as it does now. But it's not easy working in a system undercover... and it isn't easy trying to change a a behemoth from the inside. But I do my best... for those 18 kids... every day.

One of the songs at my funeral is... sorry... WILL BE, "The Authority Song" by John Mellencamp (I think he was actually called Johnny Cougar at the time, but I can forget that because the song rocks!) If I can't have "Hells' Bells" by ACDC as the processional (coming in), then I want "The Authority Song". It's my life-- a sad statement, I agree, but there it is. For those of you wondering, Molly thinks "Hell's Bells" would be too hard on my family.

I have a sewn patch about 7" in diameter from my time in Korea (Thanks, Uncle Sam!). It shows a hawk swooping down on a mouse for the kill. The mouse is standing up facing the hawk, flipping him off. I think I want that engraved on my headstone.... but I'm not sure I want a headstone yet....

All in all, I guess teaching hasn't been too bad for me... I mean, if I'd have to assign a position to it, I'd give it a 69.... I've been to New Zealand, Japan and now I'm going to Scotland, so, the die has been cast and I will stay in 2nd grade another year. But I can tell, I'm ready to move on.. find another path to tread... it's time to stretch out and grow...and I wonder what I will become in this next reincarnation?

C'mon sing it with me now:

They like to get you in a compromising position
They like to get you there and smille in your face
They think, they're so cute when they got you in that condition
Well, I think, its a total disgrace

And I say:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
I've come out grinnin'
Well, I fight authority, authority always wins

So I call up my preacher
I say: gimme strength for round 5
He said: you don't need no strength, you need to grow up, girl
I said: growing up leads to growing old and then to dying,
And dying to me don't sound like all that much fun,

So I say:
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
I've come out grinnin'
I fight authority, authority always wins

I say Oh no!
I say, Oh no!
I say, Oh no!
C'mon Kick it in!
I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
I've come out grinnin'
I fight authority, authority always wins

Our Identity

I was out yesterday to get my physical for Scotland done. As I entered the building today, I was greeted with no less than 3 people telling me that a friend had been in the office with the principal yesterday and both had been crying. We knew she had been in with the Learning Coach dealing with an emotional issue and several other things were a little peculiar as well, so the team had suspected something like this was in the works for a while and we mused about the possibilities. You see, this is the time of the year when everyone declares their intentions for the following year, ie. Who will not be returning? Who would like a new position? Who would like to change rooms, and what room they'd like to move into, all things like this get thrown out into the public forum. But, because I hate bad news and prefer to get it straight up and undiluted, I asked her about it at lunch. Our suspicions were confirmed as she told us that she wouldn't be returning next year. She was going to stay home and maybe do some volunteer work, and then she cried some more. And suddenly that delicious baked potato that I had to have instead of the salad I had originally intended to eat wasn't as savory as it had been in the first few bites. Where, oh where is a cattle prod when you need it? I need my jaw wired shut! She obviously wasn't ready to talk about it but because her hand was forced, she did... and then she went into the bathroom.

I tried to apologize after school but I realized that my apology was weak and pointless. The deed was done and there was not much more to say of it. What I wanted to say is how sorry I was that this decision was causing such a conflict of emotion-- but that is really the perfect reason to make it, isn't it? Whenever do we feel as alive as when we are swept away by strong emotion? That Does NOT mean that I think we all need to become emotional junkies creating a life based upon drama-- hey, I'm done with that! But think of the countless times we make the easy decisions that keep us trapped in a life of mediocrity? She's young. She graduated from high school, went to college, and became a teacher. A wonderful and noble profession, and yet it's one that I've thought of abandoning many times over... This seems to be the perfect opportunity to try out a new life. I can't even count on my two hands the number of jobs that I've held in my life... there's such a wonderful world out there and let's face it... teaching will always be there any time she cares to come back. Our educational system, as lacking as it may be in some areas, is not going anywhere rapidly. And I don't want her to feel that she needs an excuse! If you are able, because of life's circumstances, to take some time off to NOT work at all, I think we should. Life could go a bit slower, perhaps we would have time to craft a thoughtful response to the questions life dangles in front of us. In America, our thirst for prestige and recognition have distorted our view of what life is meant to be. We haven't moved all that far from the stern and hardworking Puritans that helped found this country but perhaps we have moved too far from the thoughtful men and women who were able to watch the world, think upon it and reflect and then reach out and change it for the better. How many Thomas Jeffersons or Jane Addams have you run across lately? Not too many, I would imagine. We are caught up in our job as our identity. And I am SO talking about myself here. You can just hear the pride in my voice as I introduce myself as a teacher because I SAVE THE WORLD EVERYDAY! But I am so grateful for the men who pick up my garbage each week that I make a point to go out to speak to them when I am home and they come by. I am grateful for the men who deliver gasoline to the local HEB so I can live my comfortable life without too much thought. My beautiful house was obtained through the wonderful work of two women who feel as passionately about people having the home they love as I am about the students I teach... I might be a teacher now, but I am so much more than that... as are you and is my friend.

I hope that my friend gets "the chance to dance along the light of day and head back to the Milky Way" in the words of Train. There's a magnificent universe out there and I hope we all get a peek at it at least once in our lives.

Kayla, we'll be waiting to hear all about it when you get back! Bon voyage!

To have Cable or not to have Cable, that is the question

So as I was driving this past weekend, I came to a stunning, somewhat mind-blowing thought. Now, these things happen on a road trip which is why I truly need road trips periodically to keep everything fresh. Nothing works to clear out the mind's cobwebs like the wind rushing through your window as you drive on the open road.... (Okay, I'm going to need a moment here.)

I'm thinking of canceling my cable service. There, I said it! I would not use my t.v. It works great but it's old so it weighs a gazillion pounds and it has a big black hump on its back that contains... well, whatever it contains. like picture tubes and electrodes and other television stuff, but I can hardly pick it up to move it and I'm a strong woman... I wouldn't need it. And why, you might be wondering, would I be crazy enough to not watch tv? Well it all started last Tuesday. It was the premiere night of the second season of "Fringe". I was so excited that "Fringe" was returning that I jumped up and did the happy dance. Anyway, so I was all geared up to watch "Fringe". I got my snacks together and positioned myself in the most advantageous spot in the whole living room and went to turn on the tv. First, I had to get up to turn on the tv because since the boys have come and gone, I cannot seem to find the back of the remote control which means the batteries fall out, but that's really not a big deal. I'm old enough to remember when EVERYONE had to get up when they wanted to change the channel because there were NO remotes. Then my DVR started doing this weird thing- it would play for 45 seconds, then it woud shut off. I would get a message saying to "Please wait a moment" and then it would turn itself on and it would take 5 minutes to go through it's little checklist procedure. Then the show would be on for 30 seconds when the tv would shut off again. I will spare you the particulars, but I was not using proper English at this stage of the game.

All night that crazy machine repeated that routine until at 8:45 when I gave up the idea of watching "Fringe".

The next day I came home from school and googled "Fringe". Within 5 minutes I was deep into episode 115, "Inner Child" and nothing was shutting off and restarting itself. AND I found out about the codes-- did you know those pictures at the breaks were a code??? I do, now! So why, I ask you, do I have a tv? I do use it to watch DVDs, so I'll keep the tv but why am I paying so much for cable when I do not take the time to watch it. What did I miss in El Paso? My blog and FB not the tv.... so tomorrow I'm going to call the cable company and find out if I have to have cable to have internet access. If I don't, I'll be saving a nice chunk o' change. If I do have to have cable, I'm looking into At&T's U-verse...

ADdIcITIoN

OMG! I woke up this morning with a throbbing headache-- throbbing hard enough to wake me from a very deep sleep. I rolled over, put my meditation CD on and assumed that I was just tired from the trip out to El Paso and having to go to work this morning. Within minutes my headache worsened and I was forced to get out of bed to find aspirin. As I stood in front of the cabinet I tried to figure out what kind of headache was I having-- a normal stress headache which means Advil or a sinus/allergy issue? As I stood there, the headache worsened until I almost thought I was having a migraine. I grabbed 2 Advil, got water and washed them down, got back in bed and restarted the meditation CD. Not 5 minutes later, I found myself fighting to keep the Advil in my stomach. My head was roaring and I was in the most acute pain that I have been in for quite a while. I knew I wasn't having a migraine because I have decided that I don't get them anymore, so what on earth was going on? I also knew that calling for a substitute on the first day back was unacceptable because I would be docked my pay! I spent a bit o' cash on my sweet boys and I pretty much need my normal paycheck anyway so...

I laid in bed trying to figure out what was going on with my body I realized that my headache was worsening (if that was even possible), my stomach was roiling, my muscles were weak and I was acutely sensitive to light and sounds. I was sweating, which is so unusual for me and my thoughts were richoceting around my head like a pingpong ball at an Olympics tournament. I had no focus whatsoever. I tried to think back to the day before to trace my day to discover what was going on with my body...

I got up at the normal time- 4:30-- 3:30 El Paso time-- dressed and left Melissa's house. (A little trauma there-- I hate saying good bye and prefer to slip away like a thief in the night but of course, my daughter and her husband sleep lightly and I was foiled in the attempt.) Melissa doesn't have a coffeepot and the Starbuck's was closed so I just headed out on I10. Driving into the night, there was nothing but a deep starry sky and a humming road for quite a while. By the time I got to VanHorn, I was wishing for some coffee but there just aren't any coffee shops in West Texas like there are in central and east Texas.... and I am NOT drinking horse piss just to have coffee! At Fort Stockton (actually Kent, a small town outside of Fort Stockton) I stopped, gassed up and got a Coke to abate the caffeine craving I was experiencing. Back on the road I was on the lookout for a Starbuck's sign or any coffee shop but I was feeling better because I had the Coke. Traffic was VERY light and the trip went smoothly until we were between Dripping Springs and south Austin and all I can say is thank god it was not anywhere near 5:00 because traffic was at a standstill for long lengths of time. I think it took longer to get from Convict Hill onto the freeway than it did to go through Harper and Fredericksburg....
I dropped Dad off, went to the post office and dealt with my vandalized mailbox, washed the car and gassed up again. Went home, showered, took a short nap, and went to HEB since my cupboards were BARREN. I went to Mom and Dad's for dinner, watched HOUSE MD and 24; came home checked my email; tried to decide on a Facebook entry to no avail, and just went to bed... nothing too out of the ordinary, so why was I feeling so awful?

Allergies? Stress? Missing my boys? Ahhh... no caffeine. What? Didn't I have several Cokes? Yes, but I had Coke Zeros-- no calories, no carbs and NO CAFFEINE. I was sadly enough in the midst of a caffeine withdrawal.

Unfortunately, knowing that doesn't make it better-- only time does that but I did need to make that fateful decision-- do I make a pot of coffee to ease this pain I was in-- or do I give up my morning pleasure...

Learning to tie shoes

This time of the year is always a little hard. I start looking at the kids to evaluate how the year has gone... who's ready to go onto third grade, who needs a bit more time... thoughts like that. It's also the time we have meetings with parents and guardians to talk about how students are doing and what modifications (if any) need to be continued next year. It was Monty's turn yesterday.

Monty is one of the boys I have been concerned about all year. He's smaller than the other children. He takes a great deal of time to process simple instructions. He flaps his arms when he walks in the hallway. His writing is labored and abnormally large. It is difficult to get a direct answer to a question, because of speech/ processing difficulties. He came in with a reading level of 8, which is about the middle of the year in first grade and is still behind because of fluency and comprehension-- or are those symptoms of his speech delays? (sigh) He plays easier with the Kindergarteners than with the second graders or even the first graders. The last straw came when I found myself at 5:15 pm on the hallway floor teaching him to tie his tennis shoes.

We'd been having a difficult week. Monty wasn't doing his work. Despite anything else about Monty, his behavior and willingness to work for me has never been an issue. Until this week. Several times this week, I watched as this little boy looked me furiously in the eye, his body quivering with rage as he refused to do his assignments.

"What" I wondered, "was going on?" This was atypical behavior and I was completely baffled by it. My reply to these standoffs is pretty standard as it has been honed by 18 years of dealing with defiant and raging children.

"I can see that you are very angry at me right now, but you still have to do your work."

And because there really is no reply to that statement, most children, including Monty, finally sit down and begin to work. Quite often it is work that will need to be redone later, but at this time of the interaction, the point is to acknowledge the feelings and then to move beyond them. Feelings are transitory. I know this because at one moment I think Monty will do just fine in third grade and then seconds later, I am positive that he should have never left Kinder.... Transitory. Really, how can a child who cannot tie his own shoes go on to third grade I wondered? Or SHOULD he? But my principal has been adamant about retentions-- and I agree with her. I have retained two boys in my career and neither has done well. So, what's the point of retention? But here I was again, playing mind games with myself-- should he? or shouldn't he be retained? Seriously, would he learn anything more by being retained?
And just who IS responsible for teaching children to tie their shoes?

The meeting with Monty's parent began with an overview of the interventions that were in place for Monty. I spoke briefly of his progress and began to talk about the recent unusual defiance that I was seeing in Monty when his mother interrupted me. She told us how much Monty loved me. She told about how he went home every night and told his family about everything I had done throughout the day. (I'll admit, I cringed when I heard that.) She told me how much I meant to Monty and how much she appreciated all that I have done for him and I knew then, why I had been seeing this defiance.

The next day was a deja vu as Monty stared at me with sparks coming from his eyes. This time though, I didn't use the standard reply that he expected. This time I looked at him and said,

"I will miss you, too. I am going on a short vacation next year, but when I come back, I will come over to your new school and see you. You can tell me about everything that you learned and you can show me around and MAYBE you'll even read me a book. But even though you won't be in this class, I will always love you.... Always... I promise."

He burst into tears and ran into my arms. As I hugged him back and soothed him, I wondered what will happen to this little boy after he leaves my classroom? Who will watch over him and take care of him? Who will give him extra time to complete assignments and who will demand better work from him? Who will listen patiently to a convoluted story and come out at the end with the understanding of what he actually meant to say? And who will help him find his way through a world that has been extremely harsh on a small 8 year-old child? There's so much to do yet. The time I have left with him is not enough time to accomplish everything that needs to be done. It's moments like this that I regret every second that I did not spend cramming all of my students full of all they needed, even though I know they need the laughter and the relaxation as much as they need me getting on them for not working as hard as I know they could. In the end, though, there is never enough time and I whisper prayers throughout the year to angels and anyone else who may be listening, "Let me have done enough for these children. Let them know what they need to know, despite all I have failed to do." And I found myself thinking that it's really not important WHO teaches you to tie your shoes-- it's just important that someone does.

Traveling

Since I've been told that I get to go to Chicago, my mind has been filled with traveling thoughts... If I could get a job traveling and then teaching about the places that I travel to... well, that would be my idea of the PERFECT job. The TRAVEL Channel just has to interview me!

So I'm going to Chicago -- prior to my trip to Washington D.C. -- prior to flying off to Edinburgh... How COOL is that??? I'm feeling pretty lucky (Even though I didn't win the set of Magic Tree House books and I'm not the winner for the HEB Excellence in Teaching award, and something else didn't happen but I've forgotten what it is... too many applications, I guess) I'M GOING TO CHICAGO, WASHINGTON D.C. AND EDINBURGH (and all of Scotland because if I can make it around Texas, I certainly can visit all of Scotland!) How fun!

But I won't be going to Chicago until next month so in order to tide me over my ROAD TRIP FEVER, I'm going out to El Paso. Yes, I am going to see my beautiful grandchildren and I'm going to drag them around El Paso taking pictures of all the historic sights to put into an interactive Promethean flipchart 'cause I told told the district I would make some of those things... and it would help my second grade team when we teach Texas history in Social Studies... and of course, I will use them in North Queensferry Primary School. So, no, it's not really a vacation (or holiday, as the Scots say), it's a field trip. ButitwillbeaFUNfieldtripbecauseIthinklearningisfunandmybeautifulboyswilllearn moreaboutthehistoryoftheircityandalltherestofusbenefitaswell. (pant, pant)

Which means I have to plan... LOTS of plans. The fun part... the dreaming and imagining part... (the figuring out what to put on the flipchart is the not-so-fun part) but it's all a part of THE TRIP. Which reminds me of other trips, and in my mind I go back to those memorable moments and relive them all over again. I enjoy them and savor them... turn them over a bit in my mind... then I dissect them, just a little, so I can figure out what it was that made it memorable. Then the possiblilty of recreating it can be had. Some things just can't be recreated like the startling turquoise color of the water of New Zealand... that's just an unexpected beauty that makes your soul sing as your heart flies into your throat when you first glimpse it. But then there's having a bagel boy at a regular morning stop and learning to hail a cab and having strangers ask you where the nearest subway stop is and for a while I pretend that I am a native New Yorker... those moments can be recreated. I can jam-pack experiences into an amazingly short amount of time. I can throw myself into a frenzy of sightseeing and things to do so that I am breathless and barely able to sleep. But I've also found that for me, it's important to find time to have quiet moments to sit on an irrigation wall listening to the sea swell against the shore while rushes dance in the wind and bullfrogs sing to each other as the townspeople greet each other in Japanese on their evening walks... those moments can be "recreated" as well by knowing that I need to leave time for the quiet to creep in...the time when I am doing nothing, moving nothing, just absorbing the sounds and smells and the beauty like a sponge. Just "being".

Which means that in El Paso, I will find time -alone- to go up onto Transmountain Road. I'll find time to to park and walk a distance into the desert to once again feel the dry breezes swirl around me carrying the scent of sage, dust, and creosote. I'll find time to listen for the swish of a reptile tail or the thump of a rabbit's bound to heal, albeit temporarily, my homesickness for the desert. For that's the other part of travel... it's price. Those moments that live so indelibly in my heart, the moments that I live for as I travel, always cost a slice of my heart.

Last Day of Spring Break

It's the last day of Spring Break. It's coincided with my Vernal Equinox reflections and the boys being gone.... A bit of a challenging day for me, I think.... so I decided or rather I have been thinking and contemplating that pleasure should be paramount today. I woke up with intentions of being frantically busy all day doing those things that I felt I had wanted done during Spring Break but upon reflection I have decided that I will best be served by taking it easy and doing those things that give me the greatest pleasure and comfort.

The boys were very sad when I left them with their mother in Ozona. My heart is still a bit heavy even though I know I will see them soon. It's the big eyes shying away from meeting my eyes when we say goodbye because they don't want to cry....

I had decided before Spring Break that I would get back on the Atkin's wagon after Spring Break. So this morning I got on the website to find some new recipes because that's what makes it so easy for me to "fall off that wagon" so to speak. Boredom with my meals. My sister and I discussed this at length before Christmas but I never did anything in regards to our discussion so this time, I will make more of an effort to change up the foods I eat. The first few days is the hardest coming off of the sugar/carbohydrate addiction and so I will treat myself kindly.This morning I made scrambled eggs with green onions from my winter garden along with tomato and chopped green pepper. In the spirit of Pioneer Woman, Orangette and Homesick Texan, I have photographed breakfast with my ever faithful digital camera.


Here are the ingredients I used....2 eggs, tomato, a green onion from my winter garden and green chilis
(canned)

and not shown, grated monterey jack cheese, salt, pepper and cayenne pepper.











Here was my final Spring Break breakfast... a great deal of pleasure for me...
An al fresco meal on my patio with my new Fiestaware plate and my gratitude journal... life is good.

Vernal Equinox

I read a new blog today. I was idly thinking of the fact that it is the Vernal Equinox and that I wasn't celebrating with any fanfare this year-- mostly because the boys have occupied all of my thinking, planning and scheming this week ...I had a quiet moment so I went snooping through blogs to find some small way in which to honor the beginning of this new, fresh season. I came across a blog entitled Living in Season with an interesting post. Apparently, the writer is on retreat at a small place in the country. They get to write all day long in silence (or whatever) and then join the other 6 writers for an evening meal.... Sounds like heaven doesn't it? But living alone means I can take the space I need and I don't necessarily need to go somewhere-- I just need to be still.

This is a wonderful time to look at the intentions from the New Year and see how I'm doing. What needs tweaking. What needs to be discarded and what needs to be implemented. What comes to mind quickly, is that I need to get back to walking. I haven't gone walking this week with the boys here and I can feel it. So tomorrow morning perhaps I'll drive out to Pfluger Lake and walk around it as a way to celebrate the Spring. It's a long walk (about 3 miles, I think I was told) and I'll have plenty of time to clear my head after these past weeks. I've got a lot going on and I need to be clear on things.

One thing that I don't think I included in my New Year intentions is time in the garden... and it's spring. Today I actually raked up the yard by the tree house since the kids "cleaned it out". It felt good to be able to rake and organize.... to feel the cool breeze on my skin with the sun peeking through the leaves on the crepe myrtle making patterns around me like fairies dancing... and I remembered all over again how important it is for me to be outside.

My garden has been sadly neglected this winter. It used to be beautiful and lush but due to focusing too much on work, it has become a thistle patch with not much beauty about it at all.... But the roses are blooming as is the Bridal Wreath and oxalis so there is hope. I'd like to move one of the rose bushes to disguise the rain barrel a bit ... and I saw plans for a lovely garden bench that looks easy to build...and I'd like to put in an herb garden this year....

One of my New Year's intentions was to come home earlier from work. Perhaps the call of my lonely garden will inspire me to leave and spend time in the earth....

Back to Mommy

i'm typing this as quietly as i can. you see, i'm back to slipping out of bed quietly before anyone else wakes up so i can enjoy my morning coffee and a bit of alone time before the kids wake up. and please, don't for one moment think that i'm complaining about this-- i'm not. i was just struck by how old behaviors can resurface so quickly.

as a single parent and a working mother, there was never any down time for me. no one to tag team off with. it was my choice-- i was the one who moved a continent away from my family to get a job in my field. anyone who has had kids or even been around them a while knows how much energy and attention they demand. it's relentless. it's overwhelming. it's all consuming and yes, it's worth it-- but it does have a price. for me having my two daughters and being able to provide for them was very important and i certainly don't regret it. i wish had had done lots of things differently-- like said "yes" more often, maybe paying the electric bill before they turned the power off those two times, and perhaps took more vitamins so that i wasn't always so exhausted and grumpy....but those experiences made me the person i am today. (i do like being me.) and i like and love those children that are soon to wake up and leave me wiped out by 9:30. (oh, who am i kidding--i'm a morning person- i get up early and i go to bed early-- always have.) it's just that this week instead of getting up and being my regular noisy self-- i'm stealthy.... even the coffee pot was swathed in towels to mute it's burping noises as it brews my morning bliss...

i love being a mimi. my boys are the most incredible, genius, beautiful boys ever to walk this planet. they are talented and brilliant and messy.. they have no butt so their pants are always sagging low and when i watch them play, i am amazed at how much they can accomplish one-handed (another sure sign of their talent!) as they hold their pants up with the other. belts? they lose them or forget to put them on... and they are already wearing slims...

they make friends with everybody and there's not a neighborhood that they can be in for more than 10 minutes without finding kids to play with and have new friends... it's amazing to me! when we go to my parent's house, a very quiet neighborhood with a few kids in it, there's always a game of something that they've made up with whatever material they have found and far more kids involved in the game than i ever knew lived there. it's like they have a special sonar to detect "friends".

i remember when my daughter found out she was having a boy. i was so confused! i looked at her and said--'i'm not goiing to be able to help you, Missy. I only know girls..." i know she thought i was being ridiculous but i really was (and still am) baffled by the male pysche. it's been okay actually. i have found that raising boys (the little i get to do) is not so different from raising girls.... or i raised my girls like boys.... hmmm (oh well, that's a whole other blog) at any rate i find that my parenting skills and the advice i am able to offer (even unasked-- i know, i'm bad) is much richer for all of my life experiences. i'm better at parenting the second time around- which makes me just a little sad. i would have liked to be perfect for my girls-- but that was part of the problem, i think.

ooops.. some one is up. i'll have to sign off for now. i think i need to snuggle with someone until they wake up completely-- even if he is 9 years old!

My OTHER Passions

I blog a lot about my job. My job is fulfilling to me, both personally and spiritually. It's an important part of who I am, although it's not all of who I am. There are actually other things that I am quite passionate about and 4 of them are headed right this way I as type.

I have two beautiful daughters. They are smart and kind and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. They are strong and resourceful and I am so proud that I know them. They each have married, and from their marriages have come the most beautiful grandchildren anyone could ever want. Melissa and her three boys are on their way to spend Spring Break with me and I think I've come up with a good combination of fun stuff to do, NEW stuff to do and plenty to keep them busy and happy. Melissa won't be staying too long as she recently got a job and needs to return back to El Paso for that, but I'll be keeping the boys here with me through the week. That will be fun-- I hope. If they don't miss their mom too much and get homesick. But I'm up for the challenge.

I've got some plans. They're all tentative as I hate to commit myself too early and then find out that some one is crabby or some one else expects us to go here but for today, I have a few important errands to finish. #1 on the list is to mail off the acceptance of the teacher exchange to Scotland(!) and #2 is to finally get that huge family portrait we had done last summer framed at Micheal's. (They're having a 55%off sale.) After that-- anything else that gets done is gravy... and I'll have the good fortune to have my boys with me...

We'll have to go to Gatti Land... I don't like it-- the pizza is not good and the noise is overwhelming but the boys love to go. Of course, we're also going to go to Austin Park and Pizza so maybe that will supercede Gatti Land. heeeheeeheee (that's my evil chuckle). Then we're going out to my sister's house who lives in Bastrop. They live in a wooded subdivision and the boys love to run through the woods and hunt creatures. My niece and nephew love it when the boys come to visit. They play together really well. I am always worried that with the family so spread out, that the boys won't have a sense of family so we always do family things...and of course, we'll go see Grandma and Grandpa. I've got the ingredients for a peanut butter pie that I've been meaning to make for my dad for months and haven't got to it yet, so I'll let the boys help me. They like to help me cook... I'll make my famous "Mimi's Homemade Waffles".... I think I'm going to try to take them to the ceramics shop that opened up here in Pflugerville. If we can paint something here, perhaps I can give it to Melissa for Mother's Day...But I think I'm trying to pack too much into a short week because on Saturday I'll have to drive them to Ozona. No, my daughter would drive the entire way to Pflugerville to pick up the boys but that would be cruel and unusual punishment so I'll meet them at the mid-way point and we'll just each have a nice road trip without being overwhelmed.

Hmmm. Is that their car I hear pulling into the driveway?

The Ring

Today one of my little boys gave me a ring. It was a beautiful tin, adjustable ring with a paste-on purple gem. He stopped me before our usual morning hug (that's how my class and I greet each other in the morning) and looked at me with very deep, intense eyes and said, "Mrs. Klein, I have something for you." I knew right then it was a ring and I was in awe of this little boy in front of me-- how brave, how sweet. But because I am a chicken and have commitment issues, I tried to get out of it by saying, "Maybe you could show me in the classroom?" No, he was adamant, "Mrs.Klein, this is for you!" and he offered me the ring. "Oh Henry!" I replied, "It's beautiful. I love this color!" He looked at me puzzled and said "Your favorite color is green..." (He's going to be a thoughtful boyfriend and husband!) "It is, but I also love purple and today this IS my favorite color!" He then proceeded to give me a bear hug, which I returned whole-heartedly. I wore the ring the entire day and despite losing the "gemstone" twice, it was still on my hand when he returned later that evening for the Second Grade Musical program. "Oh," he said casually, "you still have it on!" His mother and I shared a secret smile.

I want to love like a 7 year old again.... so easily and fearlessly...with my whole heart and without expectation...trusting my heart to know what to do and not get tangled up in overthinking everything... But until I relearn that skill, I shall wear my beautiful ring to remind me how pure and precious love is. And how very lucky I am to be a teacher.

But, once again, I find myself wondering who is teaching whom?

Luck and Ruby Payne

I am constantly amazed by my students-- but, sometimes not in a good way. Today I was walking through the hallway with Juan Pablo and we were talking. In my head, I was conducting a language development lesson with him because Juan Pablo needs all the good English modeling he can hear and these walks through the hallway after bus duty allow me a brief 4 minute window of concentrated modeling . And while I very often speak in colloquial English, during these sessions with Juan Pablo I keep my language filter high so I only model the best English that I can offer. We were talking about the writing assignment from yesterday in which students were supposed to write about computers. ie. How they use them, why they like them, what frustrates them etc. Juan Pablo was saying that he was so lucky that he's got a really high score in Symphony Math (a computer-based math tutorial program we have for our students). I looked at Juan Pablo and said, "No, it's not luck that has caused you to have such a high score, Juan Pablo, it's your hard work that has earned those points." "Yeah, I know," he replies, "I'm lucky like that." And he flashes me his cutest grin. "No," I say shaking my head and speaking a little louder and enunciating carefully. "Your high score is because you work hard and and you're good at math, Juan Pablo. It's not luck, it's your actions." "Yeah, I know. I'm so lucky." he says grinning and looking pleased with himself.

My steps falter for a moment and I swear that Ruby Payne flashes into view in front of me in her svelte red power suit lecturing me, "The biggest difference between children raised in poverty and those raised in our middle class is that children raised in a middle-class home understand a causal relationship between hard work and grades while those raised in poverty attribute their success to luck and therefore are never responsible for what happens to them. This, more than anything else, will hold them back and keep them in poverty."

Words enough to send chills down any teacher's back but this is my student and I am unwilling to accept that. I say, rather sharply, "You are not listening to my words, Juan Pablo. You EARNED those points through your hard work. Luck has nothing to do with it." "Okay, Ms. Klein..." he says, trying to pacify me.

Little does he know that he has just waved a red cape in front of me and we are by our locked classroom door. He stops and waits for me to unlock the door but I turn to face him and bend down to meet him eye to eye. I gently cup his round cheeks in my hands and look into his eyes. His eyes widen a bit as this isn't something I do very often, but this important to me. "Juan Pablo," I say softly, "I need you to listen carefully to me." He nods slowly looking at me in wonder. "Juan Pablo, you are not lucky. You are smart and you are a hard worker. That's why you have so many points in Symphony Math. YOU earned those points. Now look at me and tell me you are a hard worker." "I'm a hard worker." "Yes, Juan Pablo, you are a hard worker and now, tell me you are smart." His face lights up in my hands and his smile splits his face in two, "I AM smart!" "Yes, you are smart. You are smart and a hard worker and that's why you will get lots of points in many things, not just Symphony Math." I pause because my heart is screaming so loud I can't move. "I will not allow anyone, ANYONE-- not even you, to be less than your totality, Juan Pablo," I shout silently. I catch my breath finally and smile into his eyes and say, "Now, let's go read." "Okay Ms. Klein!"

This isn't over, by any stretch of the imagination. I will be all over this now that it has come to the forefront of my thoughts. I'll be on the lookout to reinforce this with all of my students because they are all so very important.

I have no idea of what they will do or be... but I do know that they are the most precious of gifts to humanity.

They are our children.

Minnetexan?

On Friday in the teacher's lounge during lunch, my world was ROCKED!!! I had one of those stunningly obvious epiphanies that make me question how aware I am of my own life. I realized (I hope you're sitting down) that I have lived in Texas for 18 years. 18 YEARS!!! This is a shock because in my mind, I am from Minnesota. Ask me anything about Minnesota and I probably know the answer.... Yes, SPAM was developed in Minnesota and comes out of a factory in Austin, Minnesota which is in the southern portion of the state and NO, I do not eat it. The 10,000 Lakes of Minnesota were created during the last ice age when the glaciers roamed over the face of the earth and retreated into Canada leaving a fertile land perfect for pine forests and lakes, and yes there are over 10,000 lakes even when you count just the real lakes and not the slews and ponds but we're not Texan so we don't brag like that....except for the mosquitos... we have many more mosquitos and they are much bigger than Texans brags theirs are but with all those lakes, ponds and slews.... there's just going to be more mosquitos. "God's country" is what my brother-in-law calls it. And it is to me. I miss the four seasons and the harsh beauty of winter. I miss throwing any old seed into the ground and have it grow before my eyes. I miss the water which is ever present and the waterfowl that lives on it. I miss the tatse of fresh caught sunfish fried up with a light flour batter and the sun-warm juicy berries fresh off the bushes. I miss the old German churches that were built oh, so many years ago and are still so beautiful with the sun falling through their stained glass windows and the quiet old cemeteries that are attached to them..

18 years?!?! Shoot, I can't even say pecan correctly! (pec-ahn') Of course, part of the reason is that I came to Austin from El Paso where the language is much different than here... but I sure can say "y'all" proper. I still say all those Texas towns that have Spanish names in Spanish and have the hardest time saying them "Texan". I just can't say Del Valle or Llano in english...but I shouldn't have to... it's SPANISH!!! Except for Manchancha, I can't say that in any language. And "Pedernales"... who was their teacher? It is not pronounced even close to the way it's spelled?!? Heck, I don't even say Bealls correctly so I don't say it. And I don't say flag, bag, Minnesota, and a few other words that give my origins away. But at least I stopped saying "eh" as much on the end of my sentences...

Report Cards

Yes, it was report card time again. Report cards. The name makes me shudder, but at 7 or 8 years old, it just doesn't have the same effect on my students as it does on me... or their parents, for that matter. Report cards. Ostensibly, it's an assessment of how a child is doing in a particular subject as well as overall. Some day these report cards will tell us how they rank in their class-- but for this post, I'm not going there...

I work hard to be an impartial judge of my students' progress but it's also important to me that they are successful. I don't grade all the work we do in the classroom because most of what we do is learning a concept and then we test it. For most kids that means that we'll write some, we'll move our bodies for some things, we'll use manipulatives for learn other things but those things aren't graded by me. That's the process. The written assessment is usually that piece that I grade and put in the grade book. If that assessment doesn't line up with what they were doing with manipulatives, then I know we have a gap between our 3D learning and shifting into 2D learning, ie. "the grade". I let them make up work that is below a 70-- no that's not true, I MAKE them make up work that's lower than a 70 after I give them a mini-lesson on whatever it is that they missed. Learning is mandatory in my classroom and it absolutely drives me nuts when kids tell me, "No, I don't want to do it over. I'll take the 10." Then I have to launch into my whole "You are not here to visit with your friends and have fun... " speech. But I'm digressing (are you surprised?).

Report cards are usually stuffed quickly into their B.E.E. folders two minutes before we are supposed to be walking out the door. I usually have no comment except a yelled,"Bring these back tomorrow-- signed!" as we are rushing out the door. But this 6 weeks, grades were significantly lower and I wanted my students to understand that THEIR actions are what gets them their grades. Kids at this age don't get that. They think I just dream up a grade for them. So I showed them where they were supposed to look to find the grades for this 6 weeks and which subject came first and I walked them through the whole report card as a group but I could see that they had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. So I asked the question that usually leaves then speechless, "Does anyone have any questions?" But this time, they did have questions! Weird!

"So, Ms. Klein, what are my grades?" "Okay, come up here." I had her sit next to me on the rocking chair and I pointed to each subject and read the grade and if it was low, I explained what she had been doing (or not doing) that got her the grade. We also have letter codes on the report cards for comments we make for each student. "A" means you get extra reading help. "B" means you get extra math help. "C" means you follow directions, etc all the way down to "U" which means "A pleasure to have in class." I'm trying to speak privately to this student about her grades but my students are strangely attentive and you couldn't hear a pin drop. I tell her what an "A" means and what a "B" means and that a "M" means Needs to practice self-control and that she needs to talk less and think about her work more and then I say "And this "U" means that I am happy you are in my class. Got it?". She nods and smiles and returns to the carpet. Well, now, everybody's hand is up and so I call the next student and the one after and the one after, but I start to worry. They are strangely quiet and that is just not my class. It's not my class when I am being evaluated and the assistant principal is sitting in there. It's not my class when the principal comes in to talk to me about something. IT'S NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOR for them! Then I worry that maybe they are tryng to figure out who is doing the best, but really, they already know that. They're smart and they figure that out within the first few days of school and that has nothing to do with the preternatural quiet that is in my room as I speak to each one. I continue talking to the child sitting next to me on the rocking chair with my mind ranging around for the possible reasons for this quiet. I hear my voice saying "And this "U" means that I am happy you are in my class." Again... for the 8th time.... Because I put that "U" on all of my student's report cards. I hear it then. It's a faint, imperceptible sound of a sigh of released air. I call up the next student and when I get to the "U", there it is again. Ahhh, I think to myself, they just want to know that I'm happy they are in my class.... The next student comes up and I go a little quicker through the grades because now I know really why they want to sit next to me on the rocking chair. They just want to know, in one more way, that I do love them. That doesn't mean that I don't take the time to point out that this one's talking too much or that one is racing through their work or this one needs to double check their work for completion, but I linger on the "U" and I look them in their eyes so they know it's true. When everyone was finished with their trip to the rocker, they just spontaneously turned and hugged each other!

Of course, we were late for the buses that day and Alan wasn't happy. But it was worth it. I know that they went home and told their parents that, "Ms. Klein told me that I am talking too much and I have to focus on my work more but she's really happy that I'm in her class..."

And I am.

Picture Day

I have to say right away, that I HATE Picture Day. I do. It's chaotic. The kids are like swarming termites until we take them and then they're silly after we're done. Of course, because we are second graders, our pictures come AFTER recess and AFTER lunch.... (sigh) ... They're still 7 or 8 years old.... I'm tense because I can never take a good picture and more than once I've been told that I don't look anything like my picture in the yearbook.... It's hideous and with the kids all over the place-- it's a nightmare. And yet, I'm still expected to teach. Today in math we looked at area using different sized rectangles. (I actually think the lesson went well but we'll see what makes it into the discussion tomorrow and what doesn't...) But back to the point of the story. So we go into the library to get our pictures taken. (Remember that? It's still the same.) Thank god, the photographer is my favorite. For whatever reason, any time I get a photo from him, I'm just that much happier-- and a bit more recognizable...and he instructs on where to sit on the risers. Yes, you heard me right, we SIT. For the first time in 18 years, I sit to take a class photo. So the facts that I spent considerable time and thought on picking a dress that would flatter me and the 5 minutes I practiced angling my body for my thinnest silhouette was for naught. The steps are perhaps 8 inches apart, and perched on the edge of the step, I feel like I'm kneeling sideways... I do have a dress on, remember?-- Keep those knees together! But I remember not to slouch... and to lift my chin... and to try to smile-- just a little so I don't look so forbidding and..... It turns out okay. We get a thumbnail so we can record the location of each child. But before I do that, I show the students our class photo. They are so happy. They think they look beautiful and they do. My only regret is that posed the way I am, I have my back turned to the student on my left. That, I don't like....

Then we go down the hall to take individual pictures. These are not the yearbook pictures, these are the "Glamour" shots. The photographer comes out and asks me to hand out the name cards to each student and the boys file into the room. I watch from the hallway as I stand with the girls until it is their turn to go in. And something happens as they sit on the floor and pose. All of a sudden, I see my wonderful/terrible students taking their senior pictures in high school. I see James, who still hasn't learned to smile yet, his life has been so hard and he has to work so hard everyday to make it to the next day, trying to come up with a happy thought to make a smile. Then comes Sean who looks just like a sports jock who will always cool but quiet. Mendeleve poses shyly but I can already see the handsome man he will become and know the girls sigh when he walks through the hallway. And on and on it goes...it's crazy! Why am I thinking this and why am I hallucinating!??! Then it's the girls' turn and it happens all over again. Rainey looks like a professional model and I know she's a cheerleader and maybe just a little bit of a snob when her feeelings are hurt, and Maria is too shy to look straight up into the camera and so her photo is taken looking off into the distance, but she is so very beautiful and distant.... Gaye has matured into a wonderful young woman who is so dependable and trustworthy...I find tears running down my cheeks as I watch my students in the future. I know I'm not pyschic so I have no idea where these visions come from except that these children have written their names on my soul and I am that much better of a human for knowing them...

Morning Walks

It's amazing how morning walks elevate me beyond the crush of the world. I know people always say that when you have too much to do, exercise... but for me, that's counter intuitive. It feels like I should just work harder and faster to catch up... but then my body forces me out the door and the next thing I know, I am full of energy and much more peaceful. Now, given the fact that I meditate for an hour a day already, one would think that I would be peace-d out all the time. But I'm not. My life is intense-- and yes, I make it that way. I have a lot to give and despite what any one might say, I am not going to reincarnate for another round... I'm getting it all in this time. That's why I plan to live to 165, by then I figure, I'll have it all done...

Do you remember that movie "Micheal" with John Travolta as the archangel? I am like that sometimes... dumping sugar on my already frosted cereal... I revel in each and every human emotion. I wring them out for whatever they are worth because someday, after I'm 165, I will forgo all of that and be chill.

On my walks, I listen to Kathy Smith. Not because I need her to tell me how to walk, but I need that musical beat to keep me on track or I find that I have stopped somewhere and I am staring at a beautiful tree that has just burst it's buds... or a neighbor has rearranged their yard and it's breath-taking. The music keeps my feet moving so my mind will stop thinking. The muscles pump out all that stored tension and my stride lengthens and soon I am loping along with my thoughts floating across my mind like clouds on a windy day, just color and shadows.

Right about then, I'm feeling the love. My heart begins to glow golden green and I smile taking such pleasure in my body and the beautiful earth... I let that love shower out onto the people and homes that I pass and I bless each one. I wish for each person in my neighborhood peace, love and joy. I wish them prosperity and whatever riches they may desire. My thoughts extend out to my family and friends and I hold each in my heart for a moment to wish with them their heart's deepest desires and my thoughts fly higher. Pretty soon, my whole neighborhood and town has been blanketed by love and I envision the world tenderly cradled in my heart. That beautiful blue planet that is so very precious to me....

And then I'm back in my front yard, and I know I live a blessed life.... all because I take morning walks.

Professional Development

Today I had Professional Development. That means that I didn't have to show up until 8:30. That all by itself was a treat! Do you know how much you can get done if you don't have to be ready to teach 19 eager little ones at 7:35??? A LOT!!! A case in point-- I got all my grades entered into the online gradebook BEFORE 8:00. One more thing off my list.

Then I got an hour lunch. That means I wasn't trying to make sure everyone has a lunch, make copies, get something laminated, and eat myself in 25 minutes... I got to eat at Taco Cabana-- outside in the sunshine!!! With two very cool friends. So what if we talked about work... we weren't in the teacher's lounge! And finally, I got to be with adults all day and talk science and the new TEKS that are coming out from TEA. I know-- maybe not your cup of tea, but it sure is mine!!

It sometimes happens that the professional development keeps me involved so intensely that I don't think about what might be happening in my classroom. That happened today. Yes, it was a good day! A very good day.

The Aftermath

On my way back from Killeen on Saturday, I called my sister who is always able to talk me back from the edge. Laura does not allow me to wallow in self-pity or beat myself up. As a matter of fact, she was viciously logical on Saturday when all I wanted was to be pathetic and embroiled in tumultuous emotions. (Of course, her husband, yelling out in Home Depot, that I was a closet lesbian, didn't help matters. Thanks, Lee!) At any rate, when I finally admitted that perhaps I had been over reacting... I was able to start thinking a bit more clearly and I had to agree with my sister. When the horse bucks you off, you gotta get back up there. So, as per my sister's advice, I went to the Barnes and Nobles near my house. I did after all only flirt with one boy and the goal was three ... so I turn into La Frontera .

A gentlemen holds the door open for me as I enter, I smile and thank him but I don't hold his gaze for 5 seconds...the man was just holding the door for me, for goodness sake!...in I go.WOW!!! I have never seen B&N this busy! There were TONS of people! "Alright!" I figured, "I can do this thing..." "Hmmmm.... what section shall I begin with?" I knew I couldn't go to my normal haunt, the Children's section. I would spend all my time thinking about curriculum, upcoming units and work. Not good. "Is there a vampire section?", I wondered. "I could use some replacements since I finished the Twilight series and Sookie--- hey, what was that author's name again? Oh, look, here's one... I wonder if it's any good... if it is I could give it to Kelly who needs to get her mind off of Edward.... Hmmm... where to go, where to go... oh it's a manga section! Well, let's see what's here... it leads into the sci-fi section and wow, there's female protagonists in the fantasy section...now, that's different from when I read fantasy back in the day...hey, they still print The Sword of Shanarra! ..." OMG! I looked down and I had SEVEN books in my arms and I can't remember seeing one person since that man opened the door for me. I look around feeling a little like a groundhog. Yes, it's still quite busy and there are still plenty of people, but what do I do? How do you meet someone in a bookstore? Apparently, all I know to do in a bookstore is to spend my paycheck... I shove the books onto a shelf, grab my cell phone and call Laura back. "can you hear me?" I whisper into the phone "what do i do? i have seven books and i don't know how to flirt in a bookstore... i'm spending money instead of flirting!" She tells me to just grab a book and page through it and periodically look up and smile at people but don't hold their gaze until someone looks back and stops. "okay," I whisper, "...talk to you later." I hang up and grab a book. I read the back blurb, hmmm interesting... I open up to the Prologue and NOOOO! Don't read this one, it looks interesting, I'll forget to look up again. So I put the book back and begin to wander toward the front check out. Wait, I will not buy seven books. I won't leave the house for a week because I'll have the perfect excuse... I have books to read. I stop to sort through books, remembering to look up and smile periodically.

And then I have to leave because I am so disgusted with myself.

I was cheating! I was smiling and flirting at men and boys that I would NEVER consider dating or even talking to. I was picking men who were with their mothers; I was picking young, college boys; I was smiling at very old gentlemen with walkers. I was NOT smiling at attractive men who looked cute or available...


I hate it when I lie to myself.

You Don't Always Get What You Want...

I read a book on how to flirt. It’s one of those things that I just never felt the need to learn but… well… I’ve been in a bit of a dry spell so I feel that its time to change things up a bit. Apparently, all you have to is to make eye contact with a man and hold it for 5 seconds-- with a smile. So I decided that since I was going out to Killeen to the Mayborn Planetarium that I would give flirting a try… near a military base… on Valentine’s Day… at a planetarium… and it’s far enough away that the chances of ever seeing any of those people again would be extremely small, if I did something foolish. My horoscope even promised success... as a matter of fact, here it is copied and pasted:

Look for a very flirtatious situation to heat up quite a bit today -- they are turning up the heat! It seems that they want things to move along more quickly than they have been, up to now. Hang on, this one could be quite a bumpy ride! And if romantic matters aren't top priority right now, you can expect a flirtation of another sort to get a lot more promising. You're going to have some time and the opportunity to delve deeper into something you've been interested in learning more about.

It was all set. I had even told a few friends about my plans so I wouldn’t back out. When I woke up this morning, I decided that I’d go get my nails done and get a pedicure while I was at it since I haven’t had one all winter. There’s nothing else that makes me feel more feminine. Unfortunately, everything took so long at the salon that I was running very late and almost decided not to go, but my friends were expecting a phone call, so I made myself go. I’m buffed and polished. My cute French-tipped toenails are peeking through my toeless pumps. I’m in red and wearing my rock‘n roll necklace and jeans. I feel great. I was digging the drive, I mean 130 is right there and I couldn’t even pretend that I missed the turn to Killeen since the road just deposits you right there to take that left. It’s a good drive, so I turn on Bob Seeger and really start to relax and open up to this experience, even though I’m not on the back of a Harley….

I get to the planetarium and there’s next to nobody there. Just several couples in their 60’s and one family with a cute little boy. Since there’s time, I go into the former gift shop, which has been turned into a playroom/rock gallery. The little boy and I hang out touching all the rocks and doing some language development work using descriptive language for the rocks we feel. No big deal. I’m staying for the Alaska wilderness show… who knows who will come in for that one. The Alaska Wilderness show was narrated by Charleton Heston, which irritates me a little. The whole NRA thing is a sticky point for me. But, the photography is stunning and I really like feeling like I’m free falling in space so I loved it. Looking at the aqua blue of the glaciers just further convinces me that I need to go north… or south to the Antarctica, either one would work for me. I’d LOVE to walk on a glacier and to see one calve. But, I’m getting nowhere with the flirting intention and I see that there’s a Beatles Laser Light Show next. Well, there’s got to be more people for that, right? I ask the ticket clerk about the laser show and she asks me if I’ve seen Across the Universe. Well, yeah! I even have the DVD and she calls over another worker who loves the movie and we three chat over the movie and debate the merits of the laser show and yeah, I flirted with that boy even though he was a baby in college… but it was just practice and the other gentlemen weren’t even looking at me, so…. Whatever!

I buy my ticket for the laser show wishing I had something more “recreational” in my system but I do have a long drive back… and by now I’m considering going out to eat after this and then returning for the "Sea Monsters" show and the "Sky Watchers of Africa" show, which are at 7 and 8 pm, since I’m having such a good time. I’m thinking that I can get a few more science hours in for the Collaborative…. But the laser show starts and before you know it, I’m grooving to the sounds of the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart Club” and “I Wanna Hold Your Hand”. I’m dancing in my seat enjoying the show and the music assuring myself that no one can see me dancing since it’s so dark and there’s like 5 people in the entire planetarium. “Nowhere Man” comes on and I’m thinking that this is a downer song for a laser show and certainly not one of my favorites and suddenly someone jumps over the row of seats and lands in the seat next to me. It’s a woman and she says, “I see you’re here alone... maybe we can get together…” I get up and move over one seat, totally freaking out! What do you say to that? Where the hell did she even come from?

The show ends, the lights come up and she bolts from the theater going left, I bolt for the right and before I know it I’m lost somewhere in Killeen—not like it’s that big of a town and after driving aimlessly for a bit, I figure out where I am and begin to look for a restaurant and they are all packed and I’m thinking how in God’s name, in a military town, did I attract a woman?

I thought I didn’t have expectations going into the experience, but I guess I did…


And she wasn’t what I was expecting.