Better Late Than Never....

Holy Cow! This wonderful award was bequeathed to me two weeks ago, but I did not know it until tonight! CRAZY, because I remember the night it was awarded to Mama of a Whole Lotta Drama and how envious I was of her. Even though I wanted to choke her, I congratulated MWLD and moved on. Luckily, today, she commented that she had noticed that I hadn't put mine up! Somehow, I had missed that post by John Deere Mom (Angie), which is odd, because she'll tell you I'm there quite regularly! THANK YOU, Angie, for thinking of me and for popping by when you're not tripping on tractors.

This award is so sweet, and truth be told, I have always coveted it when seeing it on other blogs. I recently gave the Official Seal of Awesomeness to several awesome folks who've been nosing around here for a long time, so I'm going to award this one to a few bloggers that I've "met" within the last few months and have added to my willstarted stalking really connected with.

Tara

Bee

Stacie

DaPoppins

Jen

and Huck, who has so many awards that she has to put them on a separate blog (popular much?), but too bad! Warning: Huck's a little um....honest, and uses ah...."colorful" language, but don't let that scare you away. (And yes, Huck, I know you already have this award, but as my mom would say, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!") Where the heck did that quote come from, anyway???

There are many others I could give this award to. If I missed you this time, stay tuned, as I am working on creating a couple of my very own awards and look forward to doling them out!

Peace.

Who Gives This Woman?

Two summers ago, my sister Michelle got remarried in a beautiful, outdoor pavilion in the middle of a local park. Her sons, Logan and Caden, served as witnesses. Obviously, Caden took this job very seriously... Take note of this photo, because this summer (when I learn what to do with my Photoshop Elements) I am going to rock this baby out! In the meantime, enjoy the sweetness...

How Teaching Your Kids to Steal Can Be A Good Thing

Yesterday, a very funny stay-at-home dad, Literal Dan wrote a post about getting his picky son to eat. I promised him that I'd post the answer to his prayers. (If this doesn't work, nothing will, but keep in mind that the initial delivery is key....)

Our kids were "toothpicks" as babies; there was nary a roll between them! Like many parents, when they were small (Kyle was maybe 5 and Kendall 2), we worried about getting them to eat enough, so we made up a game to play during dinner. Here's how it's went:

On the first night, as agreed ahead of time, we made a supper the kids liked (chicken, pasta, and carrots). Mark took a kid-sized bite of chicken on his fork and dramatically exclaimed,

"Boy, I am going to love this bite of chicken! I hope no one steals it from me!" (picture puzzled children here) and he faced left, engaging one of the kids, dangling the food out towards the right (where I was sitting).

Sneakily, I quickly ate the bite off of his fork, just as he turned back to put it in his mouth. So, instead of biting a juicy bite of chicken, he chomped down on a bare-naked fork, with another dramatic, distressed reaction. (I, of course, put on a big show of looking innocent for the kids.)

"Oh my gosh! Someone stole my chicken bite!" Turning to each of us, he asked suspiciously, "Did you steal my chicken?!" Of course, the kids denied taking it, and I, too, feigned innocence. (The kids and I giggled conspiratorially.) The game continued, with Mark doing this every other bite or so with each of the foods. Soon, the kids were asking if they could "steal Daddy's food, too."

At first, I said no (to make them want it really bad, of course) and eventually (as the days and weeks went on with the game) they were eating a ton of food (anything we were eating). Of course, Mark didn't get much to eat and dropped two pant sizes. (JK)

After that first night, the kids often begged us to play "the stealing game," so Mark and I sat across from each other so the kids could each steal from us. This game was so successful that we actually became annoyed with how often the kids insisted on playing it! Eventually, we had to designate one night per week to play it.

Years after we stopped playing this game, Kyle would sometimes ask to play it again. The game not only got the kids to eat, but also made dinner time fun. My kids are now in their teens, so we have no worries about getting them to eat, of course. We don't play the stealing game any more for food (it's evolved from our forks to our wallets :).

I would love it if someone would try this and let me know how it works. Also, I think a video of this game would be priceless (and possibly become a Youtube sensation under the category of "How to get your child to eat." ) If you don't have children, please pass this idea on to someone who does, because I know it's an issue many parents deal with, and I'm happy to share this trick.
Bon Appetit!

Loser? I Think Not.

This morning, Troy was snippy and began with his oft-heard lament, "Well everybody hates me anyways."

What are you talking about?

"No one wants to hang out with me at recess or sit with me at lunch or anything. Everybody thinks I'm a loser and hates me."

His peers and I had responses to this, but Troy would hear none of it; he had made up his mind that he is unpopular and unloved. He actually got up, tears rolling down his cheeks, and said, "Well how do you think it feels to not have a friend in school?"

I felt terrible for Troy. He has the lowest self esteem, and even though he is often the bane of my existance, I wish that I could give him the gift of positive self esteem.

I offered some commentary on "black and white thinking." A peer reminded Troy that he had told him "Hi" this morning when he saw him in the hallway (Troy did not remember that.)
I told Troy that even though his friend was upset (sullen, pouting about something silly and refusing to talk to him, he did not "hate" him. Unfortunately, this knowledge did not find an opening in Troy's mind. In his mind, he was a useless friend who could not impact Dakota's mood and was therefore "a jerk." This kind of rigid thinking is so difficult to crack. I keep trying, but my efforts seem so futile with Troy.

Another student, Curt, was listening to our conversation. He interrupted, "You know what, Troy? You are welcome to call me any time. No one from school has ever called me either. I don't have a single friend in this school. I mean it, Troy; you can call me. Maybe we could hang out some time. I'll give you my phone number--here. He painstakenly copied the number (after getting it from me) and handed the slip to a dumbfounded Troy.

We eventually got back to work, but I could see that Troy was still upset, in spite of everyone's efforts to convince him that he is valued. I met with a colleague later and talked about another student but came back to the subject of Troy. I commented that I wish there was something we could do to help him fit in more in school; to feel important or part of something. We didn't come up with anything.

Eighth hour came along, and Troy reported to me for Language Arts class (one-on-one) his time. He was smiling, which was promising, and he asked, "What are we going to do today?"

I didn't know the answer to his question until it came out of my mouth. "Troy, I have an idea. How would you like to make a movie?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think that 5th graders at the gradeschools are probably a little nervous about coming to the middle school next year. I'll bet they have a lot of questions about what middle school is like. What would you think about finding out what their questions are and then getting the answers for the kids and making a movie about what middle school is like?"

"I could do that?!"

"Of course. You could go around with a video camera, getting action shots. And let me warn you, Troy, if you have a camera, kids are going to flock to you to be in your video."

"They are?"

"Absolutely."

"Could I interview Mrs. Flotsan?"

"Sure, but you'll need to start by developing the questions you plan to answer in your movie. Let's talk about some of the things you think 5th graders wonder about middle school."

"Like, 'Am I going to get my butt kicked?'"

"Yes, like Am I going to get my butt kicked."

We brainstormed some other possible questions. I sugggested we send an email to some gradeschool teachers to see if they might be willing to solicit questions from the 5th graders. Troy lit up; "Could we send one to Mrs. Landers?" (his teacher last year)

"Of course. "

"But not Mrs. Snider; she hates me."

"You know what, Troy, I don't believe that Mrs. Snider hates you, but I think you definitely should send her the email. I think she'd say to herself, "Wow. Troy is making a movie? That's pretty impressive!"

"Okay," he said.

A moment later, as I began typing his ideas for the email, I heard him say to himself, quietly, but with great excitement,

"I am AWESOME!"

This blew me away; this kid, who just this morning had referred to himself as a loser, called himself AWESOME!

This, Ladies and Gentlemen, these three little words from a boy who generally thinks he is inadequate, flawed, and a "loser," now thinks he is wonderful. This is what keeps me going. This is what makes me hang in there when this same child is being hateful, hostile, and sarcastic. It's these tiny bites of intermittant reinforcement that are what make a difference and what will keep me going (9.5 more days)...

The Power of Words

On yesterday's post, Real World Mom left a comment that, in part, said:

....He had a science project where he was to cut a whale out of wood and paint it. Under the supervision of his dad, Son #2 cut and completed his whale *on his own*. In my opinion, he did a helluva job! The day he turned the project in, he came home and told me that the teacher said to him, "This is supposed to be a whale? It looks more like a fish!" And she had the NERVE to give him a lousy grade! Needless to say, I was heartbroken for him--and really angry at her!

This teacher's actions got to me, too. As a middle school teacher (and mom of a middle schooler) I know first-hand that the slightest cut said even in jest, without intended malice, can cut to the quick of a child's self esteem. I'll bet most people who read this will be able to recall something negative that was said to them (by an adult or a peer) when they were a child that has stuck with them their entire lives. In contrast, I'm hopeful that everyone can also remember sometime positive that was said to them and stuck.

For me, the negative comment was being called "Dummy!" by my dad when I was a kid, having made some mistake. I'm sure he didn't think much of it, but it was very hurtful, especially hearing it often. To this day, whenever I make a mistake, I catch myself referring to myself as "stupid" or "a dummy."

The positive thing that stuck with me (thank God) was from Miss (Elaine) Johnson (my 6th grade teacher). She told me that I had quite a talent for writing and that she was delighted by my work. By a stroke of fate, I ran into Elaine again as teaching student; she became my supervisor for my student teaching. This began a relationship that continued for years (we'd go out for lunch every so often), until she passed away a few years ago. Even after all these years, Elaine's eyes lit up at memories of me as a 6th grader; I can't tell you how much this meant to me, and it reminded me of how important a teacher's attitude toward a student can be.

Teachers, parents, and people in general need to remember that kids' egos are fragile and need to be treated as such; our words have the potential to build or break a child's spirit.

"Words have the power to destroy or heal. When words are true and kind, they can change the world." --- Bhudda

Dear Parent (Who Does Her Son's Homework For Him),

I'm sorry you did not like the grade that I put on your Junior's book report assignment. Yes, "homeschool" is one word in this context. And yes, I realize that I marked a LOT of places where commas belonged. Yes, I have been teaching commas this year; it's just that Junior is not interested in using commas. On the bright side, at least "his" sentences from the book report are complex enough to merit commas. This is remarkable, since normally he does not write so fluently. He must just enjoy writing more at home.

Thanks for all your "support" with Junior's homework this year,
Mrs.4444

*****************************************************************************
Speaking of books, if you have a boy who likes to get dirty, eat gross things, do dangerous stunts, and is afraid of girls, I have a book recommendation for you. How Angel Peterson Got His Name is a read-aloud book I am ending the school year with. I highly recommend this book, written by Gary Paulson (a major student favorite) which offers tales of his childhood adventures, told in a very humorous light. The kids and I have laughed out loud reading this, and I mean more than once. Here is an excerpt, in which the author is talking about county fairs in days gone past and the sideshows that they used to have,

"And there would be the 'Wild Man from Borneo!' show that had a half-naked man in a pit, wearing rags, who would pretend to be the missing link trapped in the jungles and bite the heads off live chickens."

Dan interjected here to say, "That sounds just like my bus driver."

I laughed out loud and asked, "I take it you don't like your bus driver?"

He replied, "No. It's Monica, and she's pretty mean."

The story goes on another tangent to talk about fairs in medieval times, at which time they did some bizarre things, such as "hanging a live cat from a post and killing it by beating it to death with your face." Need I say more about the suitability of this book for young boys?

And if you don't need a great book for a boy, but would like one for yourself, consider the one I just finished, Water for Elephants. It's a fiction story but has a lot of truth in it related to circuses. I must go on record saying that I do NOT like circuses (never have), but I loved this story about a Cornell-taught veterinarian who joins the circus, instead of taking his final exams. I loved the ending of this book, which ties up all the loose ends nicely.

Now, it's your turn. What would you recommend for my summer reading list?

Angels(?) Among Us

Since tomorrow is Memorial Day, I, like many of you, are thinking of those who have given their lives for this country. Although Mr.4444's dad did not do so (he was in the Navy long ago but did not serve during wartime), I am thinking of him tonight and remembering his wit. Bob had a great sense of humor, and he loved practical jokes. For example, he once lost a bet for $50.00 to a friend. This friend was a Chicago Bears fan, and if you know anything about Packer fans, you know that Bear fans are their rivals. Bob paid his friend back by lacquering 50 silver dollars onto a beautiful wooden plaque he had emblazoned with the Packers logo.

Bob was always the life of the party. One New Year's Eve, the whole family was together at the 4444 house. Everyone was sitting around, playing cards and "yucking it up," when Bob disappeared to the basement. A little while later, he came up, dressed as the New Years Eve baby (all 6-foot, 240-pounds of him) wearing only a diaper he had made from a sheet. Grandma Florence (a smoker) laughed so hard that she began choking (and quit smoking then and there as a result!)

Another "humorous" incident occurred at Camp Nuttin', the deer camp. A bunch of the younger guys had finally taken a break after a long afternoon of hard work on some chore or another. Since it was a hot summer day, they were relieved when Bob generously offered them water bottles. Their relief turned to something else when they discovered the "water" they were chugging was actually vodka! Bob and buddies at deer camp, circa 1974.

Even though Bob had passed, he showed his presence at the luncheon following his funeral. We had poured into a local restaurant in Calumet, Michigan (where Bob had grown up). If you know anything about Calumet, you know it is in Copper Country of Michigan's Upper Peninsula. People who live in those parts are simple folks; not ones to put on airs, and definitely people who know their neighbors well and are always willing to lend a hand. Bob's deer camp buddy, Jake, was such a person. Jake's wife Terese, and another friend, Jan, were at a table with me at the meal. Jake and Bob at Camp Nuttin

Lunch was served, and we prepared to eat. I passed the pepper to Terese, who used it and passed it to Jan. She generously shook pepper on her meal and handed it to Jake. He no sooner shook it than the cover flew off, dumping pepper all over his plate!

"Bob 4444," Jake snapped. "You son-of-a-bitch!!"

Jake explained that he and Bob had had a long history of practical joking at Camp Nuttin, and Bob had played this prank before, many times.

I firmly believe that Bob was there that afternoon, making sure his presence was known. The moral of this story is: The next time you attend the funeral luncheon of a practical joker, take care to make sure the pepper shaker top is on tight!

Why I wouldn't make a good paramedic (and other random facts)

Ow OW OW!! Okay, Okay! I'll do it! The Mom has tagged me with Ten Random Facts About Me. Here goes:

1) I have a habit of picking up the melody of any song I hear (commercial, kids singing, ring tone) and singing it absentmindedly until someone points it out (and begs me to stop).

2) If we are ever having a party at our house and you trip on a step and launch yourself into the corner molding of the door frame, tearing out piece of your scalp and having to go home with a headache, try not to take it personally if I laugh. That's just what I do when people get hurt; I don't mean to; it just happens.

3) When I switched over to Halo comments, I lost every comment that had been made on my blog previously in Blogger. I almost cried. Thankfully, many of you have helped me heal since then, but I am still a little sad when I go back to older posts and see the comments empty.

4) You'll never see a photo of my long, beautifully polished fingernails, because I chewed them off shortly after our wedding (I grew them for that occasion). Sorry.

5) When Mr.4444 once popped a gold crown off and swallowed it, I encouraged him to puke into a strainer in the kitchen sink (and save hundreds of dollars for a new one.) He obliged, good sport that he is. We laughed til we cried (but did not find the crown.)

6) Mr.4444 lost his job yesterday (company went bankrupt). However, I am not the least bit freaked out about it; I know that it will all work out just fine. Other doors have already opened, and I look forward to a new chapter for him. Last night, he actually slept better than he had in weeks (and I'm sure it wasn't the Jack Daniels.)

7) Our family cookbook, Hungry for More, A Second Helping of Draeger Descendant Favorites (With a Dash of Family History), is at the printers and will be ready in mid-late June. As the editor, I am STOKED! I'll be putting a link up soon for anyone interested in buying one (no pressure!)

8) I'm going to follow Dykewife's recommendation and try homemade "body sugaring" today. I'll let you know how it goes.

9) I don't drink alcoholic beverages. It's not that I don't want to (I will have a sip now and then), but I think I am allergic to alcohol; I get hungover almost immediately, so it's not worth it to me. I guess I'm lucky :)

10) Mr.4444's parents had 1970's his/hers Schwinn bikes (that they never used) hanging in the garage for 30 years, so he took them down and had them tuned up. They have headlights on them, and we like to take them out late at night and go for rides around the neighborhood, which has no streetlights. The faster we pedal, the brighter the lights get. It's good, geeky fun.

I hereby invite you (anyone interested) to follow suit.

When Gravity Hurts

Thirteen-year-old Kendall and I were primping this morning before school. Looking in the mirror, I said, "I think the design on this t-shirt makes my boobs look low; it draws the eye down."

“Mom,” she replied, "The design on a shirt is not going to affect the way your boobs are hanging."

"Hanging? HANGING?!" Ouch, Kendall.

"Mom, that's not what I meant to say; My boobs hang, too, Mom," she offered.



(No Sweetie, they don't, and that's okay.)


"I meant the way your boobs are sitting, not hanging. Sitting, Mom."


Too late, Honey. But don't worry. Your day will come....

Believe it or not, 30 minutes after this exchange, I recieved this charming cartoon in an email that made reference to the days when our parents used to measure our height and mark it off on a doorframe....

Letters I'd Like to Send...

Dear Television Networks,
How could you? You sadistically decided to run American Idol three minutes past the hour, when you knew darned well our DVR only recorded 90 minutes!! I can imagine the sick thrill you must have experienced, anticipating the collective gasp in our living room when Ryan announced, "And this year's American Idol is...." and the playback stopped (dramatically) robbing us of appropriate closure. That's just mean.

Dear Mother Bear,

I know we built this neighborhood in your stomping grounds, so I understand that you and your cub feel like you belong here. I just want to say thanks for not killing anybody or causing too much damage. And if it's not too much too ask, if you're through with them, we'd love to have those two bird feeders back that you "borrowed" last year, thanks.

Dear Alcoholism,
You suck. You have terrorized my family and Mr.4444's family for generations, but I have found a way to stop you; it's called education. It's called teaching healthy coping mechanisms and learning that a person can go through emotions without self-destructing. With any luck (and hard work), there will be no "elephants in the living rooms" of my children or grandchildren. The cycle is broken for us.

P.S. Please let go of Her. She is such a wonderful, loving, generous person, and you are killing her with that stranglehold you have around her throat. She doesn't deserve it. Haven't you done enough damage already?

Dear Child Abuse,
Long time no see. Happy to say I don't miss you, and that I feel blessed to have survived you. I have kicked your ass, and you will never hurt me again. You are not welcome in my house, so don't even bother. My children have never met you, and I'm happy to say they never will. Go to hell.

Dear Dents on My Car,
It's been about 6 weeks now, and I'm very disappointed that you have not taken the initiative to heal yourself. I do not have $1200 to fix you, thanks to your $3000 friend, Suburban Transmission, and it's embarrassing. Please try harder.

Dear Last Day of School,
It seems like just yesterday, I was buying new clothes, sharpening new pencils, and putting money in the lunch account! I'm beginning to feel a spring in my step and a lighter heart in anticipation of your arrival! See you soon... :)

Dear Love-Handles,
Just a quick note to tell you that your days are numbered. In 11.5 days, I will begin an aggressive attack on you. You'd be smart to just disappear and save yourself a lot of suffering. (This is your last chance; I'm warning you. I mean it this time. Get lost!)

Almost-Wordless Wednesday

We miss you, Grandpa Bob. Happy Birthday....

Birthday Boredom (two quick clips)

As promised yesterday, I've figured out how to post Kyle's first attempts to capture life around him in the form of video. This is one of two clips that were taken across the dinner table with his new camera. Caden had no idea that he was being "observed." Here's a link to another quick one of Caden, who considered telling Grandma a secret, but then changed his mind. (Watch the eyes!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybNACQ1b348

16-Year-Old Perspective

As I might have mentioned, Kyle turned 16 last week. I don't know if I'm ready for this! I love this kid, and I can't stand the thought of him leaving the nest in two short years! First, it will be the driver's license (this summer), and before we know it, he'll be putting us in a nursing home! I'll try to take it one day at a time, but it won't be easy.

As a birthday gift, we gave Kyle a Canon Powershot camera. I had no idea he was even interested in photography, but he requested a camera, so that's what he got. I'm very glad we did; not only do I LOVE his camera, but it appears he has found something he really enjoys and seems to have a knack for. Keep in mind that this boy has never before taken pictures. Here's the best of his first bunch...

Of course, he had to take the typical self-portrait (of his girl-friend and himself):

And his pet (He calls this "Demon Cat"):But he also took some shots that showed an eye for beauty and symmetry in his life (at school):
Of course, he showed his sense of humor, too. He took this one in the band room. The writing actually says, "No Inst. in the Ensemble Room." (but take a second look)

In honor of his birthday, he actually let me take a photo with his sister! But he drew the line here:The thing that most impressed me was the video he took at the dinner table of his little cousin, Caden, across the table, oblivious of the camera. The clips are hysterically funny; we laughed til we cried. I'll post them when I figure out how. For now, though, I hope you enjoyed Kyle's first steps toward....who knows? (The beautiful thing is that he has years to find out...)

I'd Like to Thank the Academy...

As you might have noticed in the sidebar, I now have a fantastic award, given to me by my friend, Huckdoll.

Okay, okay...she did not award it to me so much as she allowed me to take it! (Picky, picky!) It's actually the perfect thing I needed for today's post, which is just a big thank you to those of you who take the time out of your busy schedules to pop in and read my blog on a regular basis. I know some of you are lurkers, so I mean all of you, not just those who comment :) You make my day on a regular basis with your insights, wit and just plain friendship. You're the reason I've become addicted to this blogging thing. (Wait a minute. Should I be thanking you???!)

In honor of today's 200th post, I want to pass this award to the following readers, who have been tagging along since my 100th post (or it just feels like it!). Thank you; your friendship means a lot to me :

Terri

Naomi

Michelle

Kandee

Sandy

Beth

Dennis

Meno

Jane

Sari

Skeeter

Rhonda

Amie

Angie

Sari

Lurkers, you deserve this award, too, so please do take it!

P.S. Geri: If you had a blog, I'd give the award to you as well. Maybe you can save it for the future??

Saturday Surfing

In honor of my 200th post tomorrow (yes, I did not get the nickname, "Barbara Jean, the Talking Machine" for no reason!), I am going to share 200 interesting, entertaining facts about me...

I'm kidding, of course!! I don't like LONG lists of "All About Me" stuff. (Sorry if you write them.) I'm just going to mark it quietly and uneventfully. I've decided that I will feature my favorite posts found in my reader today. Since it is quite full, I should have no problem finding good material. Here goes:

For a laugh-out-loud post about childhood mealtimes, check out Yum! Lard! by one of my new favorite bloggers, Sue, who is also one of nine children.

Some adults Sesame Street fans might find this video a bit sacrilegious, but I think it's hysterical! I found it at It's a Schmitty Life.

Feel like crying? Angie's Surprise! post made me sob, but also uplifted me. She traveled this week to Texas, where she met Sara, a mother with whom she shares the unfortunate loss of a child and whom she had not yet met in person. I normally avoid reading blogs that get hundreds of comments per day(just a quirk...), but Angie is my hero, so I can't stay away.

Interested in photos, other cultures, and humor? Check out Meno's pics from her recent trip to Japan, complete with commentary from the always-entertaining Meno. I especially like her post from May 8th, but today's is great, too.

Like shopping, combined with suspense? No, I'm not talking about shoplifting; I'm referring to A Novel Woman's story The Shirt Trump. This girl can tell a good story! (And don't be afraid to scroll down to her amazing photos!

BTW: Message to those of you who do not post every day...THANK YOU. Every time I happen upon an un-updated blog page from my Reader, I thank you from the bottom of my heart that A) I didn't miss anything, and B) I don't have to feel guilty for not keeping "up to date" with my Reader. It's like you are giving me (over achiever blog reader) the day off , and I love you for it!

And on that note, I'd like to propose a National Blog-Free Week, during which we all put down our keyboards (hide the Readers) and clean like maniacs, catch up on the laundry, get some food in the fridge, go out on dates with our significant others, and get some sun on our faces, all without having to worry about missing something in Bloggyville! Who's with me on this?!

Hollyhocks and Hula Hoops

Just when you think, "Another sister?! Can she really have another sister?!" I pop up with another one! And yes, believe it or not, she is a talented writer as well. You've read of Mary's sentimentality and her ephiphany . You've laughed about Michelle's parenting paranoia and recent massage. Now, I'd like to share something from Geri, the firstborn of nine, who like many of us, can remember the past as if it were yesterday...

Hollyhocks and Hula Hoops

You may wonder,
what's the connection between Hollyhocks and Hula Hoops.

Well, I'll tell you,
if you'll imagine being eight years old,
and in your prime,
as far as childhood innocence goes.

Do you see the fragile pink blossoms
and the pretty green bulb
that you fashioned into a doll with a
billowy crepe paper skirt?

Do you feel the heat of the summer day
shimmering against the house?

Do you hear your noisy siblings in the yard?

Can you feel the pride,
of being one of the first in your world
to keep a hula hoop going,
longer than you ever imagined?

Do you feel the playful sibling rivalry?

Third grade for me was the best year ever.
The last time for thirty years that I felt really smart.

Fourth grade brought shame:
Standing at the blackboard, face beet red,
with no answers for the long division.
Mean Mrs. L. with her spinster looking hair
put up in a severe bun.
Never mind that she was married...

Did I ask for help at home?
Probably not. Too embarrassed.

So I muddled through division by multiplying
'till I got it right, or close.
Math became my worst subject.
Years later, I saved my child's third grade math
page that showed how to do it. Easy...
It's still in my junk drawer,
just in case I need it, which I never do...

Third grade; Where innocence had one last hurrah.
Where one summer was the only thing that separated
innocence from shame.
Where Hollyhocks and Hula Hoops
kept back the sands of time.
Where little children's laughter was
sublimely theirs and mine.

But don't be sad.
Third grade was a perfect time,
For Hollyhocks and Hula Hoops,
And making memories divine.


P.S. (No pressure, Judy!)

When Middle School Boys Plan Vacations...

We've started a new unit in 6th grade Math. It's called "Fantasy Vacation," and it will take us to the end of the school year. Students were given their objective today: Take your $3000 budget and plan a Florida vacation for a family of four. This includes gas, lodging, meals, entertainment, and souvenirs. Today, they started exploring vacation destinations.

For some reason, three of the four students began their searches with Google Earth. After I managed to get to of them directed elsewhere, I came upon Charlie. (You might remember him as the quirky little lad with the "broken hand.") Charlie has a special education label of oppositional defiant disorder and bi-polar disorder, but I believe he is also autistic. He is in his own little world much of the time, often with a toy action figure as a companion.

Yesterday, Charlie (who doesn't handle transitions well) freaked out when I told him we are finished with the computerized program we were working on and would start a new unit today. I ended up having to follow him around the building, trying unsuccessfully to convince him that the new unit would be fun. Luckily, the LMS (Library Media Specialist) recognized my beseeching eyes as a cry for help and cheerfully distracted Charlie with a computer task. He finally chilled and was able to go to his next class.

So today, when Charlie was still having trouble embracing the idea of the unit, I knew I needed to treat him with kid gloves. I saw that he was still on Google Earth and had typed "Walmart Supercenter" into the search field. I gently explained that on this vacation, he should choose a city first. I tried to tempt him with beaches, Disney World, Sea World, or Universal Studios, but he firmly shook his head and scoffed. "NO! I want to find Walmart!!"

"Walmart?! What for?" I asked.

"I have to find a bakgn bettl brler!"

"Whaat?!?"

"A Bakugan Battle Brawler--You can only find them at Walmart Super Centers!! They're very rare! I just want to go to Walmarts."

"So you want to spend your entire Florida vacation driving from Walmart to Walmart, collecting action figures?"

"Yes. That's what I want to do."

"Okay......"

I hope $3000 is enough for gas.

Turnabout is Fair Play

You know that thing people do with their legs when they are anxious? You know...the shaking the foot thing with the knees crossed? Well, I have a student (Corey) who absolutely HATES it when people do that. You can be 20 feet across the room, but if he catches you shaking your foot (just absentmindedly), he will be out of his mind and insist that you stop. In fact, I can't even nod my head (more than once) in agreement with him while he's talking to me without him demanding that I "Stop it!" Repetitive movements push this kid over the edge.

Now the thing is, Corey has some pretty aggravating behaviors himself, such as refusing to pick up a pencil and write or do what a teacher or aide (Carly) politely asks him to do, even though he is perfectly capable. Take notes? Pshaw! Why take notes when he can sit and read the morning paper? (And that's not counting the fact that he swings between being outright obnoxious and charmingly funny from day to day.) Carly struggles often to get him to comply, especially in the general education setting, where she tries to avoid embarrassing him (he hates that.)

When Carly recently told me that she had found a way to get Corey to comply in class, I was all ears. "It's simple," she said. "After the second time I tell him quietly and politely to do something and he ignores me, I start shaking my foot or "tapping" a pencil in the air. No one else knows what I'm doing, but it drives him crazy. He says, "Stop it!" under his breath, and I say (through a gritted teeth smile), "I will stop as soon as you are doing what you're supposed to be doing." He then falls right in line. Problem solved. I love her creativity, don't you?

Now, foot shaking or head nodding do not bother me, but I cannot stand the noise equivalent of either of those (tapping a pencil on a desk, or short, rhythmic noises that are continuous) when someone else is doing them. I also hate the sound of food being smacked in an open mouth. Chalk on a chalkboard bothers a lot of people. My friend's son goes insane from the sound of macaroni and cheese being stirred. A couple of people I heard on the radio this morning would rather put acid under their eyelids than touch a cotton ball. (Isn't that weird?!)

This subject fascinates me; I wonder what causes these idiosyncrasies in individuals. Childhood trauma? Were those women taunted with Q-tips by their mothers when they were babies? I get the noise frequency thing of the chalkboard, but mac-n-cheese? What's he going to do when he grows up, becomes a father and his kids beg for Kraft every day?

And let's hope Corey doesn't end up with Parkinson's...

Starstruck

My niece, Stephanie Cannon, is an actor/singer. She was born in Alaska but lives in the U.K., where she has an impressive resume already and continues to aspire to famousness :) When she first made this voice demo for her agent, we listened to it and loved it so much that we played it over and over, just for the fun of it. It was very interesting, and also exciting to know someone in this line of work.

The demo is designed to demonstrate Stephanie's versatility as an actress. Listen and see for yourself how talented she is. If you've never heard a voice demo before, I think you'll find it interesting.

To me, it's just fun to know someone who is actually daring enough to get up in front of people and lay it all out there like Stephanie does. I know I don't have have the nerve. Do you?

What kind of an American are you??

Huckdoll recently wrote about a little trip from Canada to the states. It reminded me of my most recent experience with U.S. Customs, in 2006. My teacher friend Molly, and I had taken our annual pilgrimage to Seattle and had hiked enough to earn a day off, so we hopped a ferry and headed to Sydney (Nova Scotia, Canada).

We feared they might not let us in, because we had no passports; only driver's licenses. So, we were thrilled when we got through without a bit of trouble. We loved Sidney; simply beautiful and full of life. (I have another post to write about the "Hotel from Hell" we stayed in there, but this is a different story.)

We enjoyed biking, people-watching, and a delicious dinner at The Spaghetti Factory. The next morning, bright and early, we headed back to the border to return to the "good old U.S.A." We laughed and made cracks about getting stuck in Canada as we waited for the Border Agent to come and look over our I.D. and pass us along. It was a giddy kind of laughter; the kind that belies your fear that you might actually be in a little trouble (again, no passports).

The officer bent down and stuck his serious face (which made me want to laugh at its solemnity) into the window, glanced at us both, and asked for I.D. We handed it over. He asked where we were from. Then, with a totally poker face, the man asked, "Ma'm, please tell me the name for the three Branches of Government in the United States." Since I was a Social Studies teacher at the time, I smugly rattled off the correct answer and smiled. He then asked, "What is a veto?" and I answered correctly again. This time, he faced Molly and asked, "Ma'm, please tell me what the Selective Service is." And my brilliant friend, Molly; the brainiac Calculus teacher and practically Rhodes Scholar said, redfaced and wide-eyed, "Um....um....I DON'T KNOW!"

We looked at him beseechingly, visions of strip searches and overnights in a prison cell loomed. I answered it for her, my voice rising maniacally. The man's facial expression remained impossible to read(We were sweating profusely!)

"We don't know! But we really are teachers from Wisconsin, I swear to you! We're just stressed out, but not because we're criminals or anything."

Holding our lives in his hands, Officer Serious handed back our licenses and, to our relief, quietly said, "You may go on ahead."

I guess he figured that two people who know only a suspect amount about their government, who take freedom and liberty for granted and cannot answer a simple question to save their lives must be Americans. Thank God.

Now, my question to you is, would you have made it through??

The Colorful Massage

That baby sister of mine; she may not blog often, but when she does, she clearly demonstrates her wit, charm, and writing talents. Here's proof. Happy Mother's Day!

Forever Young at Heart

Came upon this photo, and it made me smile; not just because Caden is so sweet, but because of my mom's expression. She's the epitomy of "young at heart," bringing a joyful enthusisasm to every celebration, finding fun in mundane things, and always ready with a song.

For many years, on my birthday, Mom calls my house and leaves a message on the answering machine, singing "Happy Birthday" to me. (I think she just did it one time, out of the blue because I missed her call, but I loved it so much, she's done it every year since.) I absolutely love it; it's so sweet and makes my birthday truly special. My "big day" is never complete until I listen to my song.

I dread the birthdays after Mom is gone, so that's why I asked her to let me record her singing to me (cuz I'm just that morbid!) Mom cheerfully agreed!

Before you hear the result, I have to give you a little background. Believe it or not, when I was a little girl, I was a real chatterbox! By the age of 5, my dad had affectionately nicknamed me "Barbara Jean, The Talking Machine." So, here's my song: Happy Birthday to Me!

Now you know another reason why my mom is so special and deserves a happy Mother's Day!

If you lost your mom this year (or before), my heart especially goes out to you this Mother's Day, and you are in my prayers...

P.S. Here's an outake of the song, if you need to laugh. Our Cooper (dog) kept whining while Mom was singing, and it was cracking Mom up to see me giving him stern looks and getting so irritated with him.

Which Mom Are You?

In honor of Mother's Day, I would like to know...

Which of the following T.V. moms would people way you are most like? (OR which mom would you like to be?)

Marian Cunningham
Lucy Ricardo
Carol Brady
June Cleaver
Carolyn Ingals
Edith Bunker
Rosanne
Marge Simpson
Claire Huxtable
Debra Barone (Everybody Loves Ramond)
Nancy Botwin (Weeds)
Sharon Osborne
Lynette Scavo (Desperate Housewives)
Teri Hatcher (DH)
Bree Van De Camp (DH)
Lois Griffin (Family Guy)
Joy Darville (My Name is Earl)
Wilhelmina Slater (Ugly Betty)
Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls)

Don't be afraid to add one if I forgot. Not a female? Okay, then say which one you would marry if you had to.

Forgive me...

I did not write a post tonight, because I came upon this site somehow and could not drag myself away:

http://audreycaroline.blogspot.com/

The story is so compelling, I copied and pasted every post from the beginning (in chronological order, in Word) so that I could read it from the beginning. (Um....it's 79 pages long, and this was no easy feat!) I plan to read the whole thing this weekend (we're going on a roadtrip), but now I must go to bed! If you would like me to email you a copy of my labors, let me know...

Otherwise, rejoice in this short post (your reader is that much shorter now!), and Have a Great Weekend!!

Barb

When Dogs "Feel Fat"

Because I am lazy and hate going outside in the winter, I trained our Golden Retriever, Cooper, to get exercise this way (see video below). In the beginning, I needed treats to keep him on there. Now, though, I never use treats, but Cooper remembers; he LOVES it and will often go to whine until we put him on it.

If Cooper can do it, so can you! Hope this gets you up and going! (I'll just watch, thanks.)

Will You Please Help?

He had grown up in the small Wisconsin town, a man who carried on his family's farming tradition and served on the school board for 21 years. After two decades of farming, he decided to return to teaching and added Principal to his credentials. It was truly special to become a principal in the school from which he himself graduated. Described as compassionate and kind, a father of three, John also served as the school's Athletic Director and was being groomed for the Superintendent's job.

So, it was with excitement and enthusiasm that John Klang began the school year last fall; a school year filled with promise. Sadly, it was not to be. Principal John Klang was gunned down in the hallway by an emotionally disturbed student bent on revenge. Principal Klang was heralded as a hero that day; even after he was shot, he tackled the shooter and knocked the gun away, saving others from certain death.

Yesterday, I received an email forwarded from a colleague of John's at the Weston School District. She nominated John's family for the Extreme Makeover: Home Edition television program, and they are finalists. As hinted previously, the Klang family lives in a farmhouse which is 120 years old, is heated with wood, and is in bad need of repair. Committed to paying off the farm before making sorely-needed improvements, the Klangs wrote the final mortgage check shortly before John's death and were hoping to begin renovations in the future.

The Extreme Makeover folks will be making a decision this week. Will you please help by sending an email today to: castingwisconsin@gmail.com with "Vote for the Klang Family" in the subject line? That's all it takes to send a vote for John's family. The original email came directly from the Weston School District, and I've verified the email address is actually associated with the show. Thanks for taking a minute to do this; John's family deserves it.

Oh, The Places You'll Go!

Today was a great day! First, our entire Network at school was down for hours. This was a first for me, and I thoroughly enjoyed it; no email, no u-drive, no Internet. This left me unexpectedly calm, calmer than I've ever been before at work. How can a person be stressed about work when it's impossible to do your job anyway? Not to say that I didn't work; I got a LOT accomplished; I cleaned off my desk, for starters (How many of you can say that?!) I also got some much-needed filing done.

The beauty of all this was that when we finally did get back on-line, my mailbox was EMPTY (because obviously no one else had access either.) What a treat.

The second wonderful thing about today was the news I heard from Mr. D, the Technical Director of the musical. I had asked him, "So, are you sad that it's over?" and his reply was, "Nope. It's not over; keep the costumes. She's going to need them!" This is because they are going to take the show on the road this summer! That's right! They are going to perform The Seussical for patients of the Milwaukee Children's Hospital and the Madison Children's Hospital!!

This is such exciting news, and it tells you more about the amazing teachers who are behind all of this. Mr. D (Joe) is spearheading this idea and doing all of the planning. An amazing thing about Joe is that if not for fate, he would have died in high school. Have you seen Who I Am Makes a Difference video? The young man in the story plans to kill himself, but fate intervenes. This is exactly what happened to Joe, who was tired of struggling through life with undiagnosed dyslexia. In his case, he had a plan and the means to carry it out. Before he went to bed on the fateful night, for some unusual reason, his mom made a point of telling him she loved him. Joe tells me that's all it took; he knew he couldn't cause his mom such incredible grief.

Joe ended up getting counseling. The first counselor tried to molest him, but that didn't stop him or his parents from getting help. The second counselor recognized Joe's disability and consequently changed his life. He graduated high school and went on to college (requiring incredible courage and hard work), and today, Joe is a middle school special ed teacher, making a big difference in the lives of kids.

So, the kids will be off on a new adventure with the musical this summer (and I'll get to go with them as a chaparone!) What a great start to my week!

How was yours?

Seussical Recap

Okay, I'm not going to go on and on about the musical. I'm just going to post a few photos here and tell you that due to Copyright laws, we were not allowed to videotape the production. (Grrr. )

Okay, so yes, I did break the law and videotape a little bit anyway (Come and get me!). With all due respect to the writers of the Seussical, I really don't see the harm in a mother recording a memory for her child. I will draw the line at thumbing my nose at them by posting it on the Internet (much as I'd love to.) Thanks to those of you who expressed interest in the video!

Believe me when I say this production was fantastic. The energy, talent, and all-around entertainment at $5 per ticket was far more than a bargain.

Remember those letters that took me 8 hours to produce? Here's the end result (15 minutes on the stage! :)

Check out the gorgeous costumes! This young lady has the voice of an angel. She was an amazing "Gertrude McFuzz."
This young man repeatedly stole the show with his extremely funny lines and physical comedy.
Now remember, this was a middle school production. That said, I'm positive it would rank right up there with a high school musical. Our Music Director works magic with kids. They adore her, as evidenced here (at the end).

I feel blessed to have my kids in a school district that has adequate funding, high parent involvement, and strong community support for extracurriculars like the musical. I know 150 kids whose lives have been enriched as a result.

P.S. Kendall gets to keep her costumes, including the hat! (Here's where you can find one.)

The Power of the Baby Blues

Kendall does not wear makeup yet, even though many kids in her grade (and younger) do. She's not interested in wearing it yet either, or in learning how to apply it (as evidenced by her asking me to do her makeup for each musical performance.) On Thursday, she needed to go to school with her stage makeup on, because they were doing a morning performance for the 5th graders. She looked like this:Later, she told us that she got many comments from kids about how "different" she looked. One girl said, "No offense, but you look prettier in make-up." She said that one boy in particular "could not stop staring" at her, and she found that quite entertaining. "That," I told her "is just a glimpse of the power you will have over a man someday, Kendall, just batting your baby blues."

My husband interjected, "SHH!! Don't tell her that!"

"Well, it's true, Daddy!" she replied.

"I know," he lamented. "And I don't want to even think about it!"



(For more on this subject, see Classy's post today.)

A Powerful Show

Tonight was the official Opening Night of the musical, and it did not go off without a hitch; it was delayed 20 minutes, due to an electrical issue. Apparently, the stage director feared a fire as the result of some wiring appearing vulnerable and some power going out, and he went so far as to gather four fire extinguishers, "just in case." An electrician came forward and offered his help , so they managed to patch things up and get the wires to do whatever it was they had stopped doing. Add to this the powerful drama of middle schoolers already hyped up for the show, and you have some kids beginning to panic!

Kendall told me that while this was going on, about half of the kids in the musical (75) were behind the curtains on stage, wondering what to do, when a couple of girls started a prayer circle. (This is a public school, by the way.) She said it was "so cool," because everyone gathered around and held a number of prayer circles in which they held hands and prayed that everyone would be safe. She said that one girl asked, "Lord, you don't have to put this at the top of your list if you have more important things to tend with. We know this is just a middle school musical, but it would mean a lot if you could help." (This chokes me up to type this.)

So tonight, the show did go on. Kendall was amazing, as were the rest of the kids. When the curtain closed the final time, we could hear them cheering wildly behind it, high-fiving each other on their success at performing an incredible show, yes; but also ecstatic that their prayers had been answered.

There was a lot more going on tonight than a show, and Kendall was blessed to be a part of it.

(That said, I'll have pictures and video by Sunday!!)

The Thanks I Get

Every once in a while, I forget who I'm dealing with at school and mistakenly think they are going to act normal. Take last week, for example. "Troy" was upset because he thought I was going to call his mom after school and tell her what a jerk he had been that day. (I should have, but I didn't.) Because he knew he deserved it (he was being a jerk), he decided to get to his mom first and fill her head with stuff about me so that she'd ignore what I would tell her later. (Now remember, I didn't call his mom, but he didn't know I wasn't going to.)

So, Troy goes home and narcs me out for saying, "Quit your bitchin'." Yes, I admit, it was unprofessional, and I should not have said it, but if that's the worse thing I've said to a kid (and it is) all year, then cut me some slack. You try being patient and forgiving all day when you're dealing with sarcastic, disrespectful, hostile Troy. (Sorry, I forget you're on my side sometimes.)

Anyway, so I get an email from Troy's mom the next day, saying "Troy told me that you said 'Quit your bitching' to him. Do you really think that's appropriate, given his already low self-esteem?" (This, from a woman who calls her kid a "piece of shit" at home. This, from the parent of a child whose homework I dropped off at their house two weeks ago on my way home, just to be nice! This, from a woman whose child's life I have made a huge difference in, and she knows it!)

That wasn't all she complained about. She also wrote, "Troy also tells me that you have a knife in school. In light of what happened last year [he almost got expelled for bringing a jackknife to school], I think that is wrong and sets a bad example for Troy." Was she serious?! (I wanted to choke the kid.) She asked me to call her. Instead, I replied:

"I'm sorry; I can't call you right now; I am so upset about this, I cannot even talk. I am sorry about the swearing thing. I apologized to Troy after I said it, and I acknowledge that it was unprofessional. However, I hope that you also had a conversation with Troy about what led up to my comment. As you know, this is out of character for me; I hope you asked Troy to consider his own actions as well. [I wanted to add: Did he tell you how much he had been snapping at me because I was trying to get him to finish his homework so that you would not have to come home from work at 7:30pm and fight with him on it? Did he tell you he had used a snide tone with me and complained that I was expecting him to be "perfect," when all I was asking him to do was put a period at the end of a sentence? Did he tell you that I had given up my lunch period to sit with him while he finished a test that day? No? I didn't think so.] Instead, I added:

"I'm sorry the knife upset Troy. It is now in a locked cabinet. That said, I also hope that you expressed to him that there is a very big difference between a kitchen knife in a drawer (next to napkins, paper plates, salt and pepper) and taking a knife to school to exchange with a peer. Also, I'm guessing that Troy didn't mention that earlier in the afternoon (because I wouldn't stop "bugging" him about his homework) he said, "Yeah? Well, I could tell someone she has a knife in school and get her fired!" We all chuckled when he said it; I thought he was joking.

So, my point is, I was hurt by Troy's decision to badmouth me to save his own skin. Hurt, because I have really gone out of my way to help him this year, and he is experiencing great success this year. That's why I didn't call his mom that night; he had had a bad day, but he had been doing so well previously that I decided to cut him some slack. (As I told him the next day, I only wish he could have done the same for me. )

The other thing that hurt me so much was that just the day before, I had gone out of my way to help solve a problem he was having on the schoolbus (which is not my "department.") I'm not going to go into the details, but I spent 3o minutes after school fixing the situation for him. And this was way he thanked me.

I knew my job was not in jeopardy as a result of what I said, or the knife, but it still bugged me that Troy would say such things the way he did. What I learned from this (again, as I do a few times a year), is that I cannot expect emotionally disturbed students to act normally; to show gratitude or loyalty to me, even though I am kinder to them than their own family members sometimes. I need to remember that I cannot expect to get my emotional needs met by my students. I need to instead take the good when I can get it and just keep on doing what I know is right.

Yes, I did give Troy an earful when he arrived the next morning and coyly asked, "Did my mom email you??" Because I'm a teacher. I taught him a few things about honestly, accountability, and loyalty, especially as it relates to someone you hope will be going to bat for you the next time you get into trouble. I'm not sure he learned anything, but I'm going to keep trying....