You have to be saying, "Here she goes again, back on her soapbox, ready to rail against the government some more." You are right. I am. It is the most unfair time of year, the time of year when I question my participation in such a corrupt system, for a system that lines the pockets of curriculum and test companies with our tax dollars without any meaningful result is indeed corrupt.
Monday, I went with my friend Suzanne, a science teacher in my building, to the Capitol to rally for education. We were both there, proudly representing Elgin and our profession in general. The crowd was not as large or as vehement as last year, but I wasn't surprised. Teachers are cautious by nature. We don't like to rock the boat, we are often treading a fine line between things - the curriculum we believe in vs. the standards of the state, the rules of the class vs. the desires of a parent, what our boss expects vs what may be more realistic on any given day, what the state pays us vs. what we are worth. We are trying to please all the stake holders while remaining true to our ideals, and most of us have been on the wrong side of an administrator at least once, enough to be cautious. Last year we were stronger in number, louder in voice, but it got us no where. It got us the tax cuts we fought against, no changes in most things, and only a temporary suspension of the third grade reading test law. This year, though there were fewer of us, I for one was so proud to go. This year, I yelled louder, until my throat was raw, waving a sign with a gimpy arm, feeling the sunburn creep down my neck. I cheered when there was cheering to be done, and I might have even booed a thing or two.
I have been asking myself for months why are some of our legislators ever elected to begin with. Party Ticket voting is just asinine and it has to be the reason we have Sally Kern and Scooter Park along with so many others at the Capitol. And where did these people ever get the idea that their constituents, the people from their own districts, wanted to get rid of AP classes or take away a teacher's right to a payroll deduction? Were there town hall meetings when these men and women stood before their communities and asked for a show of hands of all people who didn't like AP history? There surely must have been, or they have no justification, no right to vote this way if they were, in truth, elected by the people for the people . . . Rep. Park's office didn't return a single phone call, a single email, though he claimed to be pro-education in November. I have spent the afternoon researching the voting record on every single education bill. This is my personal resolution: I will continue to pay closer attention to the way our officials vote in all matters, not just education. I will make my voice heard. If they do not listen, if they do not reply to emails, I will not sit passively by. I will actively campaign not just for their opponents, but I will actively campaign against them. I do not expect an elected official to agree with me or vote according to my will alone, but when the majority of Oklahomans speak out, the people's will should be done.
In truth, there are good men and women fighting for education at the Capitol, yet they do not get recognition for their work. Some thank you notes are on my to do list.
As I stood in front of the Capitol, flags snapping in the breeze, students singing the anthem, hundreds of people solemnly pledging their allegiance to these United States, what I really wished is that Bella and my students were with me. Tears in my eyes, I stood there humbled that I had the right to be there. In some other country or in some other time, this would have ended with police and arrests and perhaps death. I maybe furious with the poor quality of so many Oklahoma leaders, I may rail against the system, and I may resent the injustice and ineffectiveness of high stakes testing that decends on my classroom in exactly seven school days. Nonetheless, I don't take lightly the life and freedom and rights we have here. It is all the more reason that my child, my hundred some children by proxy, all of us should be passionate in our beliefs and demand the sort of leaders who will protect our right to express these beliefs, whether it be in the press, at a rally, in a blog, in a tweet. I do not know if the kids would have felt that moment of awe in my heart, but I like to think a few might have felt a spark.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Saturday, March 28, 2015
Happy Nine
It is absolutely hard to believe that nine years ago at this time in the morning, I was getting to hold Margaret Isabella for the first time, her already clean and swaddled, me still in recovery and not very coherent after a c-section, Jack so happy that his feet didn't touch the ground. 7:30 this morning found me discovering that maybe I did like frosting after all, as I carefully made delicate ruffled edges around a cake. Truly, this truffle frosting is divine.
We didn't do anything huge for her birthday this year - we had a state park spring break last week, we are planning a short trip for an upcoming long weekend, and a big trip is hovering on the horizon. Couple this with a girl who really couldn't think of anything she wanted, and we decided a low-key birthday was on order. I found a box set of Percy Jackson for her and I also picked up The Twenty One Balloons for her since she has been dying to read it and our library doesn't have it. Jack and Bell are already reading it together, cuddled up on the couch while I blog. As big as she is, as much as she reads on her own, thankfully, she still enjoys snuggling with one of us and being read to. There were some other small science things that all met approval. In a few hours, we will get ourselves together and head to town with Grandma Rubilee for a birthday lunch and movie.
I think this is going to be a year of a lot of change for Bella. A month ago, we had to go training bra shopping. She doesn't need one nearly all the time, but she has budded out just enough that a few shirts are too clingy. Two months ago, we had to force her to wear clothes at home. Now, she insists on clothes 24 hours a day, her preference being to put on Old Navy pajama pants and camis as soon as she gets home. Not exactly public appearance clothes, but a big step from wanting to be a streaker. Acne has appeared, but she is doing a great job of using her new cleansing products. Suddenly, instead of us making her brush her hair, she locks herself in her room to spend 30 minutes getting ready. And the mood swings. Lord, the mood swings. I have no idea if this is normal. I remember 12 and 13 being difficult, but not 9. Some days, she is as logical and rational as an adult. Some days, we have reverted to toddlerhood. There are days when she is very responsible, helpful, and proactive in doing things for herself. Other times she seems offended that we hadn't signed up to be her servants. I love my child dearly, but I just never know which version of her will climb out of bed in the morning. Maybe this will level out sooner than later. In the meantime, we are taking the "encourage and praise approach" when she deserves it and firmly putting her back on track when she gets off, usually with a lot of drama on her part. I do love the glimpses of progress I see, whether it be in the conversations she begins (yesterday was questions about Civil Rights in the 1880s vs 1930s vs now) or her volunteering to do some job to help me out. We will certainly need wisdom as we help her grow into what is hopefully a compassionate, wise and Godly girl.
Happy Birthday, Missy B.
 |
| Jack's cake cutting privileges have been revoked - that is enough for four girls! |
I think this is going to be a year of a lot of change for Bella. A month ago, we had to go training bra shopping. She doesn't need one nearly all the time, but she has budded out just enough that a few shirts are too clingy. Two months ago, we had to force her to wear clothes at home. Now, she insists on clothes 24 hours a day, her preference being to put on Old Navy pajama pants and camis as soon as she gets home. Not exactly public appearance clothes, but a big step from wanting to be a streaker. Acne has appeared, but she is doing a great job of using her new cleansing products. Suddenly, instead of us making her brush her hair, she locks herself in her room to spend 30 minutes getting ready. And the mood swings. Lord, the mood swings. I have no idea if this is normal. I remember 12 and 13 being difficult, but not 9. Some days, she is as logical and rational as an adult. Some days, we have reverted to toddlerhood. There are days when she is very responsible, helpful, and proactive in doing things for herself. Other times she seems offended that we hadn't signed up to be her servants. I love my child dearly, but I just never know which version of her will climb out of bed in the morning. Maybe this will level out sooner than later. In the meantime, we are taking the "encourage and praise approach" when she deserves it and firmly putting her back on track when she gets off, usually with a lot of drama on her part. I do love the glimpses of progress I see, whether it be in the conversations she begins (yesterday was questions about Civil Rights in the 1880s vs 1930s vs now) or her volunteering to do some job to help me out. We will certainly need wisdom as we help her grow into what is hopefully a compassionate, wise and Godly girl.
Happy Birthday, Missy B.
Saturday, March 21, 2015
Adventure Girl Exploring
Spring Break should be fun in the sun, perhaps on a beach with an umbrella drink. At least for other people than the Ruckers it might be. Last year I think I spent spring break moving dirt and manure into my raised beds and the year before we went to my grandparents. This year we were ready for some adventure. We haven't had much in the way of adventure since Jack hurt his leg almost a year and a half ago, but he is much stronger now and the limp is lessening. We have a rather big trip planned in May so we need to start getting back into shape as far as long walks and hikes go. Since Jack had to work this week and since we girls haven't really explored the northwestern part of the state, we joined Jack in Alva. He did have to work, but his schedule allowed him some time every day to go adventuring. 
The first day did not bode well. Bella started off all right, but as soon as she found out that the Gloss Mountains were part of a state park, she was angry and pouty. Apparently she wanted true groundbreaking adventure, the sort where no one had ever gone before. She just couldn't grasp that all the state wonders were already discovered and made into parks.
'
Bella, fueled by indignation, made it to the top of the mesa long before we did. Once to the top, she forgot about being angry. There were rocks to chuck off the top, geocaches to be found on the top and down the sides, fissures to poke into . . . enough to keep a kid happy, and there was no one there but us. One of the fun moments was discovering that between the time we got to the park and the time we were ready to come down, an enterprising young romantic had hauled in rocks to spell out a prom invitation that could only be read from the top of the mesa. As we were descending, he was rock climbing with his young lady friend, headed to the top. He got style points in our book.
Bella, fueled by indignation, made it to the top of the mesa long before we did. Once to the top, she forgot about being angry. There were rocks to chuck off the top, geocaches to be found on the top and down the sides, fissures to poke into . . . enough to keep a kid happy, and there was no one there but us. One of the fun moments was discovering that between the time we got to the park and the time we were ready to come down, an enterprising young romantic had hauled in rocks to spell out a prom invitation that could only be read from the top of the mesa. As we were descending, he was rock climbing with his young lady friend, headed to the top. He got style points in our book.
We had expected drizzle that day and were not at all bothered that the drizzle never happened. Going down that mesa would have been slick work. We still had some afternoon available and Jack and I wanted to let Bella have a taste of less tame exploring. East of Alva, there is a canyon that runs across private land. In the side of the canyon are caves, including a fairly large one. Faulkner Cave has recently been opened to the public, but it isn't "tame." There is a rough map available online, but basically, one climbs a fence and treks across a pasture toward what is obviously a canyon. There are flags marking the path once close to the cave, but we found those on the way out rather than on the way in. Bella forged ahead and found a path down to the creek in the bottom. Since there was quite a bit of water still, we had to go along the side of the canyon wall until we got lucky and found the cave. It was no where as grand or huge as Alabaster Caverns, but it there was no hand rail, no walkway. Just craggy rocks, darkness. spider webs. and what appeared to be a giant rat nest of sticks and grass. We had flashlights, but no rubber boots. Bell didn't mind wet feet so she forged into the cave as far we could still see her. Not counting the side tunnels, the cave was probably close to the size of my kitchen. The entire canyon just begged to be inspected - there were logs fallen across the creek, mysterious looking algae, and I am sure if it had been warmer, snakes. We would have stayed longer, but could suddenly smell smoke - there were wild fires a few miles away, but we know how fast they can move so felt we needed to call it a day while we were safe.
The next day was Alabaster Caverns and rain and cold and more rain and cold. The Caverns were amazing - I am not sure if Bell enjoyed the sleeping bats or the cave more, but it was a successful day. Apparently Faulkner had fed her desire for the untrampled wild and she was ready to appreciate what someone else had found.
It was not a glamorous few days. Jack has a five gallon hot water tank so I don't even think I successfully shaved my legs while there. That is okay since sleeping in a little camper trailer with an 8 year old four feet away is not conducive to romance of any sort. There was the rain and the cold. That said, it was a well spent few days. Seeing Jack and Bell climb up and down all those rocks, watching him show her how to separate the layers of crystals into glass like sheets, just being with the two of them so filled my heart with contentment. I always appreciate his patience with Bella and his willingness to share wonders with her. He is not a "go play and leave me alone" dad. Instead he is the man who wrestles with her at night, helps her fill my car with rocks during the day, and then holds my hand while he drives us across the river towards home. I can live with a few non glamorous vacation days if it is with a man like that.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Can You Hear the Rrrrrr?
I seem to be in a bit of a mental fog these days with just enough brain power to make it through the day but not enough left over to even read at night, though I did just start Chris Bojalian's Sandcastle Girls. It is spring break, that brief week that renews us teachers enough to gird up and make it through spring testing. Though I am counting the days till summer break, something huge is going on at home.
When Bella was little, she was diagnosed with Apraxia of speech/language. We were told that she might never read or write and would maybe only be competent at verbal communication. I know that Jack is not exactly academically driven, but to me the word "competent" was devastating. You have all met my child and know that she does indeed talk and read and write and is more than just competent, thanks to hundreds and hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars of therapy with a pathologist named Robin Emerson. I am not sure I have ever been as thankful for a non-family member as I am for Mrs. Emerson and her work with Bell.
Even when we switched to just using the school provided therapist at Comanche instead of the the one at the hospital, we were still making progress with all those tricky sounds. When we moved here, most of our progress just stopped. We gained a little because I still made Bell practice at home, but last spring I was so disheartened. Her therapist actually said that maybe it was time for to quit, that she just was not going to get the R, CH, and SH. We still had another therapist, but I begged the special ed director for the new one that was being hired.
And this is where God steps in. In September, Bella started working with Miss Jessica and the first day came home home saying the SH more clearly than I have ever heard before. It was so sudden and surprising, that I actually turned around while driving when it came our of Bell's mouth. Then came the CH. The initial R followed. Progress indeed. However, though Bell could make these sounds in single words, she often did not consistently use them in a conversation, so we were doing a fair amount of practice (unwillingly on Bella's part) at home. And the vocalic R (think girl or far) was almost non-existent. About two months ago, Bella suddenly started self-monitoring her speech and began talking slowly and almost over enunciating to get in the SH and CH. Two weeks later she added the initial R. Now she is pretty fluid with everything but the vocalic R, though it is progressing nicely. The other sounds still sound a bit exaggerated, but every day they get a bit smoother, a bit more natural, as does the R. Words like world are tricky, and sometimes it is still hard to distinguish between girl and gull, but they get clearer every day. Only about once a day do I have to make Bella repeat a word.
Last week, we had our annual IEP meeting (meetings to plan the education for learning disability students). I was dreading it. On paper, Bella has gone from 51 % accuracy with R (September score) to 93% (February score). Those sorts of numbers (paired with good grades and a crazy big vocabulary and high reading level) suggested that she no longer needed therapy, but they are somewhat misleading because they only reflect single words and not conversational speech. We also were going to lose our therapist and be sent to one with a reputation for being ineffective. But we still have God's hand in this. We compromised at going to one day a week instead of two and Miss Jessica will continue to work with Bell next year. The hope is that if she continues to self monitor and progress as much as she has since Christmas, after next year, she can quit therapy.
I have no idea why Bella started working so hard to speak clearly. I know she was teased a lot at school and many kids thought she was from a foreign country. I just don't what switch finally flipped, but one did. I am not sure why God sent Miss Jessica to Elgin. I am sure her role here is bigger than than making sure we are the Ruckers and not the Wuckers. I do know this. Every time she speaks, every time she tells me a story right now, I smile as I hear Bella clearly and confidently make those sounds I had only three months ago despaired of ever hearing. I wish you could hear her. It is just amazing and I am so thankful.
I am thankful for her progress, but it also reminds me of work that needed done in my own life, some things in my spiritual life that I was neglecting. Watching her has reminded me of the gifts we are given if we are faithful to do our part. I listen to Bella talk and see God behind her progress but I know I was supposed to learn something too.
We are getting ready to go see Jack today for a day or two of hiking the Gloss Mountains ( probably in the rain) and maybe exploring the Alabaster caverns if they reopen after yesterday's wild fires there. It is spring break. And we have the R. There is so much to be thankful for this bright morning that my heart is full.
When Bella was little, she was diagnosed with Apraxia of speech/language. We were told that she might never read or write and would maybe only be competent at verbal communication. I know that Jack is not exactly academically driven, but to me the word "competent" was devastating. You have all met my child and know that she does indeed talk and read and write and is more than just competent, thanks to hundreds and hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars of therapy with a pathologist named Robin Emerson. I am not sure I have ever been as thankful for a non-family member as I am for Mrs. Emerson and her work with Bell.
Even when we switched to just using the school provided therapist at Comanche instead of the the one at the hospital, we were still making progress with all those tricky sounds. When we moved here, most of our progress just stopped. We gained a little because I still made Bell practice at home, but last spring I was so disheartened. Her therapist actually said that maybe it was time for to quit, that she just was not going to get the R, CH, and SH. We still had another therapist, but I begged the special ed director for the new one that was being hired.
And this is where God steps in. In September, Bella started working with Miss Jessica and the first day came home home saying the SH more clearly than I have ever heard before. It was so sudden and surprising, that I actually turned around while driving when it came our of Bell's mouth. Then came the CH. The initial R followed. Progress indeed. However, though Bell could make these sounds in single words, she often did not consistently use them in a conversation, so we were doing a fair amount of practice (unwillingly on Bella's part) at home. And the vocalic R (think girl or far) was almost non-existent. About two months ago, Bella suddenly started self-monitoring her speech and began talking slowly and almost over enunciating to get in the SH and CH. Two weeks later she added the initial R. Now she is pretty fluid with everything but the vocalic R, though it is progressing nicely. The other sounds still sound a bit exaggerated, but every day they get a bit smoother, a bit more natural, as does the R. Words like world are tricky, and sometimes it is still hard to distinguish between girl and gull, but they get clearer every day. Only about once a day do I have to make Bella repeat a word.
Last week, we had our annual IEP meeting (meetings to plan the education for learning disability students). I was dreading it. On paper, Bella has gone from 51 % accuracy with R (September score) to 93% (February score). Those sorts of numbers (paired with good grades and a crazy big vocabulary and high reading level) suggested that she no longer needed therapy, but they are somewhat misleading because they only reflect single words and not conversational speech. We also were going to lose our therapist and be sent to one with a reputation for being ineffective. But we still have God's hand in this. We compromised at going to one day a week instead of two and Miss Jessica will continue to work with Bell next year. The hope is that if she continues to self monitor and progress as much as she has since Christmas, after next year, she can quit therapy.
I have no idea why Bella started working so hard to speak clearly. I know she was teased a lot at school and many kids thought she was from a foreign country. I just don't what switch finally flipped, but one did. I am not sure why God sent Miss Jessica to Elgin. I am sure her role here is bigger than than making sure we are the Ruckers and not the Wuckers. I do know this. Every time she speaks, every time she tells me a story right now, I smile as I hear Bella clearly and confidently make those sounds I had only three months ago despaired of ever hearing. I wish you could hear her. It is just amazing and I am so thankful.
I am thankful for her progress, but it also reminds me of work that needed done in my own life, some things in my spiritual life that I was neglecting. Watching her has reminded me of the gifts we are given if we are faithful to do our part. I listen to Bella talk and see God behind her progress but I know I was supposed to learn something too.
We are getting ready to go see Jack today for a day or two of hiking the Gloss Mountains ( probably in the rain) and maybe exploring the Alabaster caverns if they reopen after yesterday's wild fires there. It is spring break. And we have the R. There is so much to be thankful for this bright morning that my heart is full.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Snow Day
It would be so easy to be discouraged with winter, the gray, the cold that seeps into my bones and settles there. I suppose I am really just a spring and summer girl at heart for I won't be any happier in August when the heat has sucked the life out of me.
In truth, we haven't missed much school for bad weather - today, yesterday, and perhaps one other day. Most of the snow and ice has come in on weekends keeping me from church. The worst was missing Misti and Mark's wedding. I am not a big wedding goer - it requires in general too much mingling, socializing, and politeness than I typically have in me. But this was important - Misti finding her soul mate was worth wearing a dress for, was worth going to lend our voices in joyous celebration. We were looking forward to seeing some of the old Davis hall crowd as well. Our crowd has become scattered to the winds. We have lost a few - just thinking of Chris and John make a few tears come to my eyes but also smile in memory. We have all grown enough to know that the world a rough, tough place. We are wise enough to know that happiness must be seized and gaurded and treasured. We want the best for each other and Misti has found the best. That is something to celebrate.
As much as we wanted to go, I think when I crept home Friday afternoon, my car was the last car to go up our road until things began to thaw on Sunday. We were snowed in. I am thankful that though we missed the Pryor to McClellan extravaganza, that we were warm and safe and well fed. During one snow event last year, our well went out and we had to live with Rubilee for over a week. Another snow event involved Harold waiting until we were snowed in to decide he needed to go the ER, and the EMT's had to carry Harold up the hill since they couldn't get the ambulance down the hill to the house. Yet another winter storm led to Jack having to drive Harold in to the ER over icy roads at night. None of that has happened this year. Yes, I am tired of draining water lines every time I water the berries and fruit trees. I am tired of trecking through the cold to the well house with laundry. However, if I missed the wedding, I did so with a husband who cooked supper and made creme brulee for me. Bella and I sledded down everything from Rubilee's driveway to the backside of hte lake dam. That might have been a bit too fast for me. Either way, I was home with the ones I love and that is worth a good deal.
For the moment, I am thankful for the brilliant streaks of sunlight that lit up the eastern rim of the lake this morning. We are one week and one day away from Spring Break. We don't have big plans, but it will mean that spring is right around the corner. I have almost 200 baby plants under grow lights that will be ready to move to the greenhouse as soon as Jack gets it up. I didn't plant a single garden vegetable - since I am doing a raised bed, the 12 tomato and pepper plants I have to buy won't break the bank, but I spent an embarrising amount of money on bedding plants last year so am trying to grow my own this year. 200 sounds like a lot, but I am sure not all will make it. I could have happily planted another 200. I know. Plant addiction.
The most stressful time of the year is coming up at school - End of Instruction tests are looming. The AP exam is right around the corner. The EOI is a from a new vendor this year, and for the first time a portion of my yearly eval will be determined by test scores for a test that students are not required to pass. Stress indeed.
But not today. Today, I will clean a little house. I will finish the last half of AP essay grading. When the snow melts, I will go get Rubilee's paper for her and have my daily chat/check in with the in-laws. For the moment, I am sitting in the sunshine with good coffee, a girl scout cookie, baby plants in view, and a child who is glad for a stay home day.
In truth, we haven't missed much school for bad weather - today, yesterday, and perhaps one other day. Most of the snow and ice has come in on weekends keeping me from church. The worst was missing Misti and Mark's wedding. I am not a big wedding goer - it requires in general too much mingling, socializing, and politeness than I typically have in me. But this was important - Misti finding her soul mate was worth wearing a dress for, was worth going to lend our voices in joyous celebration. We were looking forward to seeing some of the old Davis hall crowd as well. Our crowd has become scattered to the winds. We have lost a few - just thinking of Chris and John make a few tears come to my eyes but also smile in memory. We have all grown enough to know that the world a rough, tough place. We are wise enough to know that happiness must be seized and gaurded and treasured. We want the best for each other and Misti has found the best. That is something to celebrate.
As much as we wanted to go, I think when I crept home Friday afternoon, my car was the last car to go up our road until things began to thaw on Sunday. We were snowed in. I am thankful that though we missed the Pryor to McClellan extravaganza, that we were warm and safe and well fed. During one snow event last year, our well went out and we had to live with Rubilee for over a week. Another snow event involved Harold waiting until we were snowed in to decide he needed to go the ER, and the EMT's had to carry Harold up the hill since they couldn't get the ambulance down the hill to the house. Yet another winter storm led to Jack having to drive Harold in to the ER over icy roads at night. None of that has happened this year. Yes, I am tired of draining water lines every time I water the berries and fruit trees. I am tired of trecking through the cold to the well house with laundry. However, if I missed the wedding, I did so with a husband who cooked supper and made creme brulee for me. Bella and I sledded down everything from Rubilee's driveway to the backside of hte lake dam. That might have been a bit too fast for me. Either way, I was home with the ones I love and that is worth a good deal.
For the moment, I am thankful for the brilliant streaks of sunlight that lit up the eastern rim of the lake this morning. We are one week and one day away from Spring Break. We don't have big plans, but it will mean that spring is right around the corner. I have almost 200 baby plants under grow lights that will be ready to move to the greenhouse as soon as Jack gets it up. I didn't plant a single garden vegetable - since I am doing a raised bed, the 12 tomato and pepper plants I have to buy won't break the bank, but I spent an embarrising amount of money on bedding plants last year so am trying to grow my own this year. 200 sounds like a lot, but I am sure not all will make it. I could have happily planted another 200. I know. Plant addiction.
The most stressful time of the year is coming up at school - End of Instruction tests are looming. The AP exam is right around the corner. The EOI is a from a new vendor this year, and for the first time a portion of my yearly eval will be determined by test scores for a test that students are not required to pass. Stress indeed.
But not today. Today, I will clean a little house. I will finish the last half of AP essay grading. When the snow melts, I will go get Rubilee's paper for her and have my daily chat/check in with the in-laws. For the moment, I am sitting in the sunshine with good coffee, a girl scout cookie, baby plants in view, and a child who is glad for a stay home day.
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Ssshhhh.
I have been sitting snug in the recliner with cups of kaluha and whipping cream laced coffee for the past hour perusing mail, messages, facebook, and cookie recipes. I closed the door to my room lest I inadvertently wake Bell. I needed a bit more quiet time than usual this morning. Really, I just wanted my IPad a bit longer. As soon as she wakes up, she will want to go to Pottermore.com and check some potion she is brewing or see where her house is in points standing. And then ensues the long battle of making sure she doesn't spend too much time plugged in to an electronic device today. It is hard when I know she doesn't feel good enough to do much more than lie around and I am too busy cleaning house (or being sucked into a book) to find her another occupation.
I am thankful for the quiet this morning. This may jinx it, but Kate hasn't barked incessantly at anything. It isn't freezing. There are zero pressing matters to attend or places to go today. Tomorrow will be a go to church, visit my mom, and stop for groceries day, but today is just a homebody day. I can wear leggings and a flannel shirt and no one will care. That prim, proper, hardworking English teacher persona (my principal is delusional if she really buys that facade) can be discarded for the day.
This is not to say there aren't goals. Housecleaning drives Jack nuts so I do big cleaning every other weekend when he is not home and just tidy on weekends he is home. He comes home Monday, and it is important to me that when he comes home, our house is orderly and fresh. It should be a bit of a sanctuary after he has been gone all week, so it will be scrub the bathroom, dust, vacuum and mop, laundry day. I have a bit more than usual because I want to wash all these germy blankets Bella has nested in all week. I was so tired last night, I didn't even wash up the day's dishes so there is a bit of kitchen work as well.
Last weekend we had our pictures made and I really need to work on cards this weekend. I bought every single Christmas gift save one online - they have all arrived and I have not opened a single shipping box to check its contents, so that needs tending to. I bought a toy last week as well - no it isn't anything kinky. I bought a cookie press and I am dying to bake some experimental batches, try some new recipes today. My grandparents and Jack's parents don't need a thing, but both sets have serious sweet tooths. In addition to that seriously brandied up fruitcake marinating in the hall cupboard, I think they are getting an assortment of baked treats. I know Rubilee was reminiscing about her youth when her housemates made gingerbread and brandy Alexanders, so I have the ingredients for both. I thought one day over break it might be fun for Bell, Rubilee, and me to bake gingerbread together.
The only other thing in my list is to finish JoJo Moyes' One Plus One today. I know realistically that it all won't get finished today, aside from the housework. That is a must. I won't rush. No breakneck speed cleaning for me today. For now, my coffee cup is empty and it is past 8. Time to waken the child and start the day.
I am thankful for the quiet this morning. This may jinx it, but Kate hasn't barked incessantly at anything. It isn't freezing. There are zero pressing matters to attend or places to go today. Tomorrow will be a go to church, visit my mom, and stop for groceries day, but today is just a homebody day. I can wear leggings and a flannel shirt and no one will care. That prim, proper, hardworking English teacher persona (my principal is delusional if she really buys that facade) can be discarded for the day.
This is not to say there aren't goals. Housecleaning drives Jack nuts so I do big cleaning every other weekend when he is not home and just tidy on weekends he is home. He comes home Monday, and it is important to me that when he comes home, our house is orderly and fresh. It should be a bit of a sanctuary after he has been gone all week, so it will be scrub the bathroom, dust, vacuum and mop, laundry day. I have a bit more than usual because I want to wash all these germy blankets Bella has nested in all week. I was so tired last night, I didn't even wash up the day's dishes so there is a bit of kitchen work as well.
Last weekend we had our pictures made and I really need to work on cards this weekend. I bought every single Christmas gift save one online - they have all arrived and I have not opened a single shipping box to check its contents, so that needs tending to. I bought a toy last week as well - no it isn't anything kinky. I bought a cookie press and I am dying to bake some experimental batches, try some new recipes today. My grandparents and Jack's parents don't need a thing, but both sets have serious sweet tooths. In addition to that seriously brandied up fruitcake marinating in the hall cupboard, I think they are getting an assortment of baked treats. I know Rubilee was reminiscing about her youth when her housemates made gingerbread and brandy Alexanders, so I have the ingredients for both. I thought one day over break it might be fun for Bell, Rubilee, and me to bake gingerbread together.
The only other thing in my list is to finish JoJo Moyes' One Plus One today. I know realistically that it all won't get finished today, aside from the housework. That is a must. I won't rush. No breakneck speed cleaning for me today. For now, my coffee cup is empty and it is past 8. Time to waken the child and start the day.
Friday, December 12, 2014
Beastly Weeks
Last week had an inauspicious beginning despite it being a week that Jack would come home. Last Monday, I got up early, prepped supper, made a loaf of homemade bread, had us ready to go out the door a bit early - in short, I was playing Superwoman. And then it all fell apart. It was the bitterly cold morning when the predicted high for the day was only 30 degrees and I went out early to start the car and load up my briefcase and Bell's backpack.
Now for city people, we live in an old house built by a tightwad, a man who built this house out of leftover parts from other houses. I walk across the yard to get to the dryer though the washing machine is in the middle of my kitchen. A garage is something fancy people have. That means that warming the car is a must. Somehow, after I started the car, I bumped the door lock - I believe it had something to do with keeping one Jack's bejillion cats out of the car. Of course I didn't realize the doors locked until after the door shut. Panic did not set in - I was sure the spare key was on the rack. Except it wasn't. We don't have a house phone. My cell phone was in the car. Bell still had my iPad in the house, so I messaged Jack Dear, hoping he was still at the trailer in Alva with his iPhone on (he doesn't keep it on much and normally uses his work phone). He did and he also had my spare key. In Alva. Nearly three hours away. It is 7:30. I have a 20 minute drive and need to be at work in 30 minutes. Now panic ensues. Can I take our old decrepit jeep? The one with no heat, no antifreeze, and a nearly flat tire? Nope. I did limp the jeep to Jack's mother's and took her rather unreliable car to work. In the meantime, my car sat, running with heat on full blast and my briefcase inside for three hours, while the man of the house came home with the spare key.
Sounds like the Three Stooges are in charge at my house doesn't it? It all ended up fine. Jack came home, dealt with the cars and the day resolved itself into normalcy, but when your Monday morning starts that way, you just don't do a good job teaching - too much stress, too much insanity. It somehow sets the tone for the week, which turned gray and damp with a cold that seeped into my bones.
Last Wednesday, Bell developed a sore throat. Last Thursday, the chip in the windshield that was supposed to get fixed on Friday turned into a huge crack. By Sunday, Bell had developed a nasty cough. By Monday evening, the snot monster was sleeping propped up in my bed with Breathe Easy oil in the diffuser and Thieves oil rubbed into her chest and feet, dosed with cold medicine. By Tuesdayay, the cough and congestion had reached the point that I was checking for fever and saying, "Just try to make it through the day." Mothers know that when we send our kids to school half sick, we spend the entire day waiting for the phone to ring, for the elementary to demand that we come fetch our germy child. That means we are not one hundred percent focused on our job.
Perhaps that is why it took me until the end of first hour to realize that when second hour's papers came back from the copier, they were short a few copies. Our school building is huge, with the copier far away from my room, but between classes I made it to the copier, which was out of paper. I loaded the paper, but there was a misfeed. After much fuss, I managed to get my copies and had rounded the last corner of halls to my classroom just as the bell rang. I was late for class. The principal was waiting outside my classroom.. This did not bode well. Not well at all. I went in, shut the door and prayed fervently that the boss man was there to observe someone else, though not likely since there are only two other classes past mine in the hall.
My students have a routine everyday - when the bell rings, they are to begin work on their sentence of the day while I take roll and then we start class. The ball had rung and not a single student out of 21 had ther sentence out, much less started working on it. I got them going, roll was taken , but there was much muttering, nitpicking between students and general grumbling in the room. I had to tell several students to focus, to be quiet, and the third time I spoke to one young man, I actually said "shut up." I rarely say that. I just don't, but he was keeping contention stirred up with another
student and had been warned, and I just about was at the end of my rope. I thought so at least.
The day before, we had spent no less than fifty minutes discussing the roll of women in the late 1880s and reading Kate Chopin's "Story of an Hour" and discussing how the story could fit into both realism and naturalism. We dissected that story so thoroughly that I am not sure much more could have been said, I thought they had picked up every nuance, caught how each detail was flavored by the social environment, understood each sliver of irony. Come on, it is a ten minute story and it should have been conquered in a fifty minute lesson.
Not so. I handed out work, about 12 questions, going from simple right up Bloom's levels. Immediately, the uproar started: "I don't get it," "This is too hard," "You didn't explain this part," "These questions don't make sense," ""Help me," "I still don't get this." I saw red. Few things annoy me more than students who start the "I don't get it routine" when they have only spent 30 seconds with a problem. I had dared used words like why, how, what if, consider the historical and social aspects, and worst of all, in yor opinion. As I am saying that I will not just give them the answer and their protests are getting louder, in walks the principal ready to observe me. My students apparently have no brains and are on the verge of mutiny if I ask them to work, it looks like chaos, I was late to class . . .
I did not give them the answer. I asked leading questions, we discussed some more, I redirected with leading questions, I ended up saying things like, "No. You are not thinking. I will not tell you the answer" and we started over again with different leading questions. Three times and twenty minutes later they were mad and pouty, but on the right track. While they worked, I passed out graded papers and make up work, looking over shoulders as the kids worked, stopping and redirecting them to other parts of the story for answers, asking them questions to steer the. In the right direction.
I got a good review, but patience wise, I probably deserved an F. I did not have all my ducks in a row to begin class on time. They don't pay me to fight with the copier between class. They pay me to teach from bell to bell. The galling thing is, days like that are pretty rare. I teach and work hard and most days, I do a good job. maybe I got a good review because the boss knows that I do a good job, maybe he recognized the students had some responsibility to learn and not just me teach. But what if he only gave me a good review because he knows that 35% of my reviews will be comprised of how much growth there is between the 10th and 11th grade test scores, rather than how effectively I taught. I can be the best teacher ever, but I can not force a child to do well on a test, especially when passing said test is not a graduation requirement, it is also hard to show improvement whe the 10th grade pass rate is already something like 97%.
It has just been a beastly two weeks. Wednesday, I was out of school, lugging a sick Bella to the doctor. Yesterday morning I had a migraine and then it was a bit chaotic trying to catch up from being gone. Then I got to spend a good bit of time dealing with a discipline issue. My kids were using the ipads to type last essay of the semester and one child chose to write his in rather nasty language. It wasn't turned in, but left on the Ilad where a student later in the day discovered it. I had to figure out which kid it was, spend some time with the principal deciding what punishments would ensue, just generally deal with the mess. The essay had some legitimate sentences amidst its filthy rambling, but for the most part, drawing penises all over the paper would have been as effective. Let me remind you, my salary and even my job will depends o n this kid's test score. The student won't be allowed to use the ipads anymore which means more work for me since we will be working through a test prep program on them one day a week for the rest of the year. I will have to create something on paper . . . Giving the child a zero really isn't an option - test scores, remember?
This morning, as I type this, I am shaky from lack of sleep. I usually sleep well after a migraine, but not last night. Sometimes the pills I take leave me jittery. Match that with a coughing little girl who had bad dreams and I gave up on sleep at 4:15. It is test day in my room which means no lessons to teach. I will be having lunch with fiends. It is Friday. These are things for which I am seriously thankful. I am ready for this week to be over and for Jack to come home.
Now for city people, we live in an old house built by a tightwad, a man who built this house out of leftover parts from other houses. I walk across the yard to get to the dryer though the washing machine is in the middle of my kitchen. A garage is something fancy people have. That means that warming the car is a must. Somehow, after I started the car, I bumped the door lock - I believe it had something to do with keeping one Jack's bejillion cats out of the car. Of course I didn't realize the doors locked until after the door shut. Panic did not set in - I was sure the spare key was on the rack. Except it wasn't. We don't have a house phone. My cell phone was in the car. Bell still had my iPad in the house, so I messaged Jack Dear, hoping he was still at the trailer in Alva with his iPhone on (he doesn't keep it on much and normally uses his work phone). He did and he also had my spare key. In Alva. Nearly three hours away. It is 7:30. I have a 20 minute drive and need to be at work in 30 minutes. Now panic ensues. Can I take our old decrepit jeep? The one with no heat, no antifreeze, and a nearly flat tire? Nope. I did limp the jeep to Jack's mother's and took her rather unreliable car to work. In the meantime, my car sat, running with heat on full blast and my briefcase inside for three hours, while the man of the house came home with the spare key.
Sounds like the Three Stooges are in charge at my house doesn't it? It all ended up fine. Jack came home, dealt with the cars and the day resolved itself into normalcy, but when your Monday morning starts that way, you just don't do a good job teaching - too much stress, too much insanity. It somehow sets the tone for the week, which turned gray and damp with a cold that seeped into my bones.
Last Wednesday, Bell developed a sore throat. Last Thursday, the chip in the windshield that was supposed to get fixed on Friday turned into a huge crack. By Sunday, Bell had developed a nasty cough. By Monday evening, the snot monster was sleeping propped up in my bed with Breathe Easy oil in the diffuser and Thieves oil rubbed into her chest and feet, dosed with cold medicine. By Tuesdayay, the cough and congestion had reached the point that I was checking for fever and saying, "Just try to make it through the day." Mothers know that when we send our kids to school half sick, we spend the entire day waiting for the phone to ring, for the elementary to demand that we come fetch our germy child. That means we are not one hundred percent focused on our job.
Perhaps that is why it took me until the end of first hour to realize that when second hour's papers came back from the copier, they were short a few copies. Our school building is huge, with the copier far away from my room, but between classes I made it to the copier, which was out of paper. I loaded the paper, but there was a misfeed. After much fuss, I managed to get my copies and had rounded the last corner of halls to my classroom just as the bell rang. I was late for class. The principal was waiting outside my classroom.. This did not bode well. Not well at all. I went in, shut the door and prayed fervently that the boss man was there to observe someone else, though not likely since there are only two other classes past mine in the hall.
My students have a routine everyday - when the bell rings, they are to begin work on their sentence of the day while I take roll and then we start class. The ball had rung and not a single student out of 21 had ther sentence out, much less started working on it. I got them going, roll was taken , but there was much muttering, nitpicking between students and general grumbling in the room. I had to tell several students to focus, to be quiet, and the third time I spoke to one young man, I actually said "shut up." I rarely say that. I just don't, but he was keeping contention stirred up with another
student and had been warned, and I just about was at the end of my rope. I thought so at least.
The day before, we had spent no less than fifty minutes discussing the roll of women in the late 1880s and reading Kate Chopin's "Story of an Hour" and discussing how the story could fit into both realism and naturalism. We dissected that story so thoroughly that I am not sure much more could have been said, I thought they had picked up every nuance, caught how each detail was flavored by the social environment, understood each sliver of irony. Come on, it is a ten minute story and it should have been conquered in a fifty minute lesson.
Not so. I handed out work, about 12 questions, going from simple right up Bloom's levels. Immediately, the uproar started: "I don't get it," "This is too hard," "You didn't explain this part," "These questions don't make sense," ""Help me," "I still don't get this." I saw red. Few things annoy me more than students who start the "I don't get it routine" when they have only spent 30 seconds with a problem. I had dared used words like why, how, what if, consider the historical and social aspects, and worst of all, in yor opinion. As I am saying that I will not just give them the answer and their protests are getting louder, in walks the principal ready to observe me. My students apparently have no brains and are on the verge of mutiny if I ask them to work, it looks like chaos, I was late to class . . .
I did not give them the answer. I asked leading questions, we discussed some more, I redirected with leading questions, I ended up saying things like, "No. You are not thinking. I will not tell you the answer" and we started over again with different leading questions. Three times and twenty minutes later they were mad and pouty, but on the right track. While they worked, I passed out graded papers and make up work, looking over shoulders as the kids worked, stopping and redirecting them to other parts of the story for answers, asking them questions to steer the. In the right direction.
I got a good review, but patience wise, I probably deserved an F. I did not have all my ducks in a row to begin class on time. They don't pay me to fight with the copier between class. They pay me to teach from bell to bell. The galling thing is, days like that are pretty rare. I teach and work hard and most days, I do a good job. maybe I got a good review because the boss knows that I do a good job, maybe he recognized the students had some responsibility to learn and not just me teach. But what if he only gave me a good review because he knows that 35% of my reviews will be comprised of how much growth there is between the 10th and 11th grade test scores, rather than how effectively I taught. I can be the best teacher ever, but I can not force a child to do well on a test, especially when passing said test is not a graduation requirement, it is also hard to show improvement whe the 10th grade pass rate is already something like 97%.
It has just been a beastly two weeks. Wednesday, I was out of school, lugging a sick Bella to the doctor. Yesterday morning I had a migraine and then it was a bit chaotic trying to catch up from being gone. Then I got to spend a good bit of time dealing with a discipline issue. My kids were using the ipads to type last essay of the semester and one child chose to write his in rather nasty language. It wasn't turned in, but left on the Ilad where a student later in the day discovered it. I had to figure out which kid it was, spend some time with the principal deciding what punishments would ensue, just generally deal with the mess. The essay had some legitimate sentences amidst its filthy rambling, but for the most part, drawing penises all over the paper would have been as effective. Let me remind you, my salary and even my job will depends o n this kid's test score. The student won't be allowed to use the ipads anymore which means more work for me since we will be working through a test prep program on them one day a week for the rest of the year. I will have to create something on paper . . . Giving the child a zero really isn't an option - test scores, remember?
This morning, as I type this, I am shaky from lack of sleep. I usually sleep well after a migraine, but not last night. Sometimes the pills I take leave me jittery. Match that with a coughing little girl who had bad dreams and I gave up on sleep at 4:15. It is test day in my room which means no lessons to teach. I will be having lunch with fiends. It is Friday. These are things for which I am seriously thankful. I am ready for this week to be over and for Jack to come home.
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