Page Turner

When I read on the Kindle, LK occasionally mentions that my page turning is quite loud. Despite my best efforts to press that little page-turning-button quietly, there is always a click. He has a hard time falling asleep while I am reading in bed. Last night as I was falling asleep, LK was reading beside me. I realized suddenly that I couldn't hear a sound while he was turning pages. I sat up and shared this with him. His response, "Sweetie, you turn pages intensely. You do everything intensely. When you type...CLACK CLACK CLACK. When you breathe..." I lay there, trying to decide if he was criticizing or teasing when he leaned over, kissed my shoulder and said, "I love you just the way you are. You live life to the fullest. Some of us have a hard time doing that," and went back to his book. Reassured that he was not criticizing, I smiled, and fell asleep. Today I am trying to type a little more quietly. Just to be considerate. It is harder than it sounds. Change, even small change, takes work. And time. And perhaps shorter fingernails.

Spring Lift

I had the most lovely end to my spring break - a hair and nails pampering plus a shopping trip with a friend. It was a wonderful break from mommy duties, and a literal breathe of fresh air as Saturday was lovely and warm in the city.

Friday I had some alone time at the hair dresser and getting my nails done. I walked out feeling like a million bucks and totally pampered. What a treat! Then was off to have a girls dinner out and a sleepover (just like when I was a kid).

Saturday morning we were up early (who gets up at 6:30 on Saturday?) and off to the city for some retail therapy. We had a good chat in the car followed by some serious thrifting. I really love a good thrifting day and came home in high spirits thanks to good deals, fabulous girl time and the pampering.

I came home with treats for everyone, which is lots of fun. LK got a new (actually new, not thrifted) grill pan to take his cooking to the next level. Jo got some adorable new shirts and sweaters; proof that his Mama cannot resist the colours blue and green. Fi got a new pair of ankle boots for spring and gorgeous new wall stickers to redecorate her walls in a more grown-up theme. She is growing out of the fairies stage and so we are transitioning to flowers and butterflies in the same colours. I was so tickled to find this as it means a new look without having to replace bedding or change the wall colours.

I came home with a wardrobe lift including a soft-as-baby-skin cashmere sweater and a pantsuit made of denim; both purchased at incredibly cheap prices and therefore even more delightful buys. Very fun and I can't wait to experiment with the mix and match possibilities in the coming weeks. I am intentionally avoiding the colour black in most of the new clothes that I purchase now - as I have historically had a very black-dominant wardrobe. Plus it is spring (seasonally if not according to the weather) and spring is all about colour.

So, with that great big dose of "Me Time" I am ready to tackle the last 13 weeks of the school year with energy and enthusiasm. Look out world, here I come!

Hibernation

This has not been our best winter here. I don't know whether it was the weather, or whether it was us. Either way we have spent far too much of it cooped up inside. I skied less than ten times. We didn't even strap on snowshoes. Most of our outdoor time was spent building a snow fort or shovelling the driveways. And it wasn't enough.

Today, for the first time in months I strapped on my running shoes and started spring training. It was delicious. I felt like I was waking up after a long hibernation and my soul is hungry for the clean air and sunshine. Between the music, the endorphins and sunshine I came home in the best mood that I have been in for weeks.

I can't wait for for Thursday.

Harry for the Holiday

Over the Christmas holidays Fiona discovered Harry Potter. In three weeks she read through the entire series and began what is shaping up to be an intense love of all thing Potter. Since then she has reread the whole series once and is started on her third time around. Yesterday her March Break treat arrived in the mail; a Harry Potter LEGO set. She was thrilled that it was all hers to build and keep.

This morning she was eager to get dressed and breakfasted. By 9:00 (the Sprouts and I were home as the daycare was closed and somebody needed to be with Jo) she was carefully cutting bags of LEGO pieces open at the dining room table. Fi worked on her side of the table with fierce concentration.

Jo and I worked on our side of the table building a log cabin together. His concentration was less fierce, and inserted in between bursts between laps through the house to grab another LEGO toy or play a round of a game with a LEGO guy. He calls the mini figures LEGO guys.

It took her most of the day. She stopped for lunch, some time outside to play in the snow, and not much else. By the time Papa came home from school she was the very proud constructor of her very own Burrow. And she was fending off Death Eaters with Harry and the Weasley family. I can see that there will be hours of play with this over the next week. And she is glowing with a challenging task accomplished all by herself.

Smart purchase, Papa!

Reading Pictures

When children are not yet reading the words, I encourage them to see themselves as readers by teaching them to read the pictures. We can learn a lot from the illustrations in a picture book. We can use lots of great thinking skills and reading strategies. We can enjoy the story told by the pictures without ever worrying about the words.

Jo is just starting to realize that books are filled with words. At bedtime he likes to point to sections of text on the page and ask what that part says. He spells out words and asks what the word says. He is on the road to reading.

But the most important thing was brought home to me tonight at the dinner table when he said, "Mama, I can read the pictures all by myself in the daytime, can't I? I am really good at reading the pictures."

I realized he is on the road to being a reader and that his love of books is blooming. Yeah!

Almost Here

Dinner is one of my favourite times at home. It is when I have the chance to really look at my kids and marvel at what incredible creatures they are.

Last night Jo was tired. So dinner started with a meltdown. As he was not able to pull himself together, LK carried him upstairs to calm down in his room. Halfway up the stairs I heard a quavering, "I want to wisten," from Jo. Then he shared with his Papa, "I tired."

The poor Sprout has so much game. He is willing to try almost anything, and sometimes the rest of the family forgets that he is only three. But when he reaches his end, he is really done.

LK brought him back down and he bravely ate his supper with tear-tracks running down his cheeks. Within a few minutes he was trying to tell jokes like his big sister.

I think that we are ready for a holiday in our house.

Lunchtime Habit

We have a habit in our family of reading while we eat. Only at lunch, we have a strict rule that breakfast and supper are family time as those are the two meals that we eat together as many days of the week as is possible.

So, today at lunch as the Sprouts and I gathered around the table, JK stated, "I need a book," and off he went.

In the living room he looked at the bookcase and mused, "I can't find Halvin and Hobbes. I like Halvin and Hobbes."

With a little help he located Calvin and Hobbes and he was content to munch and read the pictures.

It figures that the boy who is the spitting image of Calvin (in spirit anyway) would gravitate towards this comic strip as his particular favourite.

Mondays Aren't Always Bad

Yesterday was my first day back to the classroom in a month without my Teacher Candidate colleague there. The students were quite depressed as they came into the classroom in the morning. There were several quietly moaned protestations of love and longing for her, and a few requests to me that she come back.

I miss her too. There is a real joy in having another adult in the room who is working toward the same goals. It is also sometimes nice to have someone else to enjoy the humour that is part of every school day (because the kids often don't get what is so funny about what they just said). Plus she was a lovely person.

It is also nice to be back to just the students and myself. I can be a little more relaxed. I can be less anxious about making mistakes. Because having another adult in the room absolutely raises the bar. And I am supposed to be modeling master teaching skills day in and day out. Just a little bit of pressure there. Because, although I am a good teacher, I am not a master day in and day out. Sure, I have lessons and moments that are incredible. But I am sure not incredible all the time.

So it was very relaxing yesterday. And by the end of math class we were back in our groove, the students and I. And I was reminded why I really like this job and this group of students. We had a good day.

Sticks and Stones

Do you remember the expression we used to chant at kids who were calling us names?

"Sticks and stones may break my bones,
but names will never hurt me!"

It was wrong. Names can shatter the bones of our courage and confidence more than any sticks or stones.

After my last post I received an angry comment that felt like a personal attack from behind a mask. It was a reminder of how it feels to be called names. It hurts. A lot. It is even worse when you don't know who is calling you names or why.

My response? First there were the typical (and, yes, sinful) set of responses; denial, anger, hurt. Then I called my mom. (What else does a girl do when she needs a shoulder?) She is woman of great compassion and wisdom. She listened to my hurt and pain spill out onto her shoulder through the phone lines. She poured a little motherly healing compassion on them.

And then she challenged me to find the lesson in this. What do I need to change in my behaviour? What do I need to look for in the pain of this other person that they are lashing out at me? How does my heart need to be transformed so that rather than sitting and wallowing in my own feelings, I am focused on the feelings and needs of others? How can I step forward and be transformed more into the image of Christ?

It has been a really hard weekend. I have laid awake at night. I have had miserable dreams. I have replayed most of the conversations I have had with people in my life for the past two months. I have searched my own heart. And, yes, I have found it wanting in compassion, humility, and love. (I tip over the balance between confidence and arrogance very easily; when I am not wallowing in complete self-doubt).

I know that this is an opportunity to grow. I can now (after more than 30 years) recognize opportunities for spiritual growth by the pain that is involved. So, friends and family, if I am slipping into gossip or unkindness please call me on it. It can be ask simple as, "EK, I think we are slipping into gossip here." I need to be held accountable.

One request. Do it to my face. I will do my best to listen to your words and take them deeply to heart. But when the critique comes from behind a mask and is filled with words that attack, they hurt a lot. And those injuries leave permanent scars behind.

Please don't throw sticks and stones.

Stirring the Pot

For years I have wrestled with my desire for excellence. I strive to be my personal best (most of the time) and hold all the people around me to a high standard. Sometimes that means I am demanding and pushy. Most of the time I have made peace with the fact that I am a person who is driven, and not everyone else likes that. Usually I am okay with it, but not all the time. In my low moments I bemoan being a "pot stirrer" and try to change who I am. This is a frustrating and fruitless endeavour.

Recently I read a blog post on The Teaching Game blog that gave me pause. Katie, the author of the blog, writes that her mentors (those who have inspired or encouraged her to reach further and grow) have had some traits in common. Those traits were things the I wrestle with in myself. And it really encouraged me.

Katie's comment that her mentors have been the one person that awes and annoys everyone really hit home. I know that I annoy people. I don't want to, but excellence really matters to me and I just can't bite my tongue that much. And I love to learn as much as I love yummy shoes and chocolate - those are needs that are undeniable for me.

So I am trying to be polite and kind. But forget apologizing for being me. If you don't like that I want the very best for my students and that I am going to keep asking questions and challenging the status quo - go jump in the lake. Because I answer only to my Creator who requires my personal best every day. And I take great joy in the striving for it.

No More Tears

For all my teacher peeps out there...

We spent the last day and a half in a Handwriting Without Tears (HWT) workshop in Kenora. WOW! What an amazing program. Everything I have learned about good teaching pedagogy, making learning interactive and fun, reaching all learners through a variety of learning styles, and working at developmentally appropriate levels with children is taken into account in this penmanship curriculum. (No, I am not being paid to say this).

I used the Canadian Handwriting curriculum when I taught in Toronto. I taught second and third grades for many years and so the introduction to cursive was a big part of our learning each year. When I moved up here I was exposed to HWT for the first time. I read through the manual and plugged away at it. I really missed the slant and loops of traditional cursive (as they make cursive have an elegant beauty - in my opinion), but did see that students were able to learn the upright streamlined style more quickly.

Then at the workshop I learned all the history and research behind the program. And we were shown how they work at preparing students for printing. There is a whole year of pre-printing activities to teach students to recognize their letters, learn that we start at the top, develop understanding of the stroke sequence, etc. And it is full of hands-on manipulative, and music, and action. All things that are near and dear to my heart. (I would like to break out in song with my class every day - and I used when I had a piano in my room).

So, coming out of this workshop I am completely convinced that HWT is an amazing program for teaching students to write neatly and have fun doing it. I have plans for playing with Jo and teaching him using many of the pre-writing activities (double bonus: we get time together and I get to extend my teaching skills).

For all my administrative peeps out there...

Although PD is expensive and it is a hassle to get subs to cover classes, please know that is it really worth it. Teachers are inspired, encouraged, and fired up to work harder when we are taught well and given good tools to work with.

All in all, two great days.

Bad Call

Yesterday was Monday. As we pulled up to the daycare we noticed the dreaded white sheet of paper posted on the door that always means bad news for us. Daycare closed due to ___ (fill in the blank). Yesterday it was heating problems. So, as LK has used up all of his compassionate leave days for the whole year staying home with Sprouts in the fall and winter, it was my turn.

Going in to the school I was planning to organize plans for a sub, update my teacher candidate and head out with Jo. But then when I got in the classroom and saw the number of little details that it meant leaving unaddressed I couldn't do it.

At first I planned to stay just until lunch. That meant that I could do the "teaching" lesson that I needed to be there for (really hard for a sub to do) and then the sub could supervise the work period students needed in the afternoon. There was also an outstanding detention that needed to be addressed and I was reluctant to dump that on someone else. It was also the last day I had with my student teacher before her final observation. I felt that leaving her would let her down. Etc....

By recess I was also feeling bad about letting my Fearless Leader down and decided that since Jo seemed to be doing okay we could stretch it.

Jo did remarkably well during the school day. However, as soon as the students left he lost it. By the time we packed up to go home I was doing a Homer Simpson (Doh!) at myself. Why haven't I learned this lesson yet?

A three year old just doesn't belong in a fourth grade classroom. It's not good for the three year old, the fourth grade students, or the teacher.

Next time, someone shake me if I try to make it work again. Because, this was not a make it work moment.