Another Episode in the Life

My class is reading The Sign of the Beaver. One of my favorite books because it just reminds me of Thanksgiving - set in Maine territory in 1768, it details the friendship between a 12 year old Massachusetts boy left to keep watch on his family's land and cabin and a Native American of the same age. And trust me, I am all about Thanksgiving this time of year. Don't mention Christmas until we have put away the Thanksgiving meal. Just too many things we can teach if we don't rush head long into Christmas. (I digress, but this is another one of my soapboxes. Let me get started on the school calendar.)

Yesterday, after we had practiced summarizing, one of my Indian students asked a question. "The Indian in this story - is he a real Indian or a red Indian?"

An episode like this makes me miss having another adult to share times like this with.

"A Native American, my friend. A Native American."

That's A Day I'll Never Get Back

Bullying training, today. Or, better yet, training to prevent bullying. My ADD kicked in about 2 1/2 hours after workshop commenced. Actually, I was on a row with three others who had lost consciousness. Because, seriously, I CAN'T sit still that long and have a meaningful experience. Oh, and we had another 4 hours to go.

I've already figured out who the problem is going to be this year. The child is a little awkward - but if you knew her mother, you'd understand why. The mother checks her child out of school every Wednesday early to go to her psychiatrist/psychologist appointment. She has the child on Prozac and Concerta. And this mom can't help but complain and gripe about everything. Timed math tests for her ADD child. How her child was bullied, beaten and picked on at her last school. How I have handed out an outdated reading assignment on passports - when I did so to prove a point about trusting sources - she emails me the State Department regulations on travel. WTF? I know what I'm doing, so stop second guessing me. (I can't imagine what she would have done if she had read that Hong Kong was still independent like it said in a Social Studies textbook I had to teach from for years.)

She has also loudly and publically stated that her ex-husband abused this child several years ago, but the daughter still has five hours of unsupervised visitation with this man.

Excuse me, but this woman is the definition of crazy. If I believed for one second that someone had abused my daughter, you can believe that she wouldn't be visiting him five hours a week. Unsupervised.

Still, I'm not going to let this woman bother me. I know what I'm doing. She doesn't.

Remember When I Said ...

I wasn't going to ever, ever teach summer school again? And then I signed up, but only to teach math because who, in his right mind, teaches reading to 5th graders?

Face it, in this economy, 82 hours at my hourly rate makes a difference. So, I am teaching summer school math and my class is made up of those kids who missed passing by 2 - 3 points. So, for the most part, they are vested in this.

However, my best story so far comes from down the hall from a friend teaching 3rd grade reading. She has a young man in her class who did not pass the super big state test and is here for reading instruction. She sat him down one day last week for some guided reading and asked him to read the first sentence and he told her he couldn't read. (For those interested, the word he got stuck on was the.) He told my friend, "Hers gots the markers." Holy English nightmare, Batman!!


He got suspended today for having a knife in his shoe. (?) I don't know how or why or what. I'm just reporting the facts.

However, we found out today a fact that might explain some of this - his father is his uncle.

Cue the banjoes.

Freaky Friday - Five Days Before Spring Break

So much to say and yet...
I could post an entire blog about one boy who has been nothing but a behavior problem since he got to our school when he was a 2nd grader; his parents got an ADHD diagnosis Monday along with a prescription for something and they have decided to let him wreak his special brand of havoc on us for the rest of the year while they try to fix him through behavior modification. Right. My only consolation is the fact that this little crapper is going to middle school at his mother's school (right! Mama is a special ed teacher and she didn't think there was anything wrong with the little prince. They. Never. Do.) and when her administration has to deal with him, they'll be throwing him out on his ear.

I could post an entire blog about our Art Teacher and her appointment as County Art Educator of the Year - how she lobbied for, did all the paperwork and managed to get this award all by herself and has done nothing but prance around like it means something. If this had been voted on by her peers, I might be onboard, but she has had the audacity to try to get the school secretaries to get the principal to make announcements about her and her "personal best" and she wants us to put her "achievement" out on the announcement board in front of our school. Stop the madness, I say.

I could post an entire blog about the garlic cheese grits I got ahold of this morning at our monthly Fat Friday breakfast. Oh my word, they were everything grits are supposed to be. Creamy. Cheesy. Delicious. Hallelujah. They were the only thing that saved this wretched monsoon-y Friday. I am in awe.

I could post an entire blog about the fact that Prep's Junior Prom is next Saturday (did anyone check a calendar - hello? The day before Palm Sunday? The after party is over at 3AM. Are you kidding me?) and she doesn't have a dress yet. She found one that cost more than my wedding dress but she can't find it in her size. Of course, if I could wear a 0, I'd just buy clothes to be obnoxious. But then, she is being difficult, as promised.

I could post an entire blog about a fabulous book I started last night and I will finish tonight called Sarah's Key. What a read. As a history major, I am appalled by my lack of knowledge about the French roundup of the Jews. This book is amazing. I think it is the author's first novel. I hope her future work is just as good.

Oh, yeah. One more thing. They had to come yesterday to remove a dead possum from underneath my trailer - it was stinking up pretty good, people- but the one idiot said that the smell was coming from my coffee cup. Pardon? I don't think so. You can't smell my freaking coffee cup from OUTSIDE, moron. What a show that was.

Spring break? Maybe we just need to call it a year.

President's Day. Thank You, Gentlemen.

Prep and BrownBear are in a lather. You see, they sauntered off to school as I waved good-bye to them as I stood in the doorway in my pajamas. Apparently, their politically correct private school took MLK Day, but chose to blow off the Presidents. Now, while I am often loathe to stir the pot, I am interested. When did one person become more important than the 43 people who have led this country for the past 200+ years? When I was growing up (here it comes), we celebrated Lincoln's Birthday (log cabin milk cartons) and then a scant two weeks later, we celebrated the hell out of George Washington's birthday. Growing up in Washington's hometown, we had to biggest parade; we ate cherry pie. We wore tri-cornered hats. Granted, I was living through the Civil Rights Movement, but I never thought I would send my daughters to a school that would blow off President's Day. Blow it right off.

So, dear internettters, discuss. As you do, some pictures of some of my all time favorite presidents.

And an anecdote of a favorite school project I make all my classes do: Something I stole called Presidential China. Everyone picks a number between 1 - 43. That is your president. You research that president and get yourself a color picture of him. Creatively put all your information on a white paper plate and decorate it. Hence, you have "Presidential China."

Last year, we did this little project, and one of my geniuses said, "I didn't know they had presidents in China." That is why I continue to make them do this project, year after year. Because they don't have presidents in China, Precious.

Symphony Day

Dudes. Symphony day. On a yellow school bus. With the temperature dropping minute by minute.

After it was all said and done, it really wasn't that bad. Most of the children put on their best clothes and found their best manners. I was proud of them. But, of course, when we got back, they were wired for sound. (Ha!!) And if I had been on my game, I would have packed a DVD in my school bag and sat them around the LCD projector for a little movie time - because with the wind whipping and the tiny snow flakes flying from the sky, we weren't going outside for love nor money. So, we worked on pronouns. (I am an ogre, okay?)

Oh, and this. My principal got this e-mail from a parent a few days ago. One of my flipping room mothers, for crying out loud.

"My husband and I would like to set up a meeting with you this week to discuss some concerns we have with my little darling in the classroom. He has related a few comments made by Mrs. Teachergirl that are of some concern to us. I had an initial meeting with Mrs. Teachergirl back in early December to discuss and things appeared to have improved temporarily, however, he has mentioned a couple of issues the last couple of weeks that has us concerned. "
The principal's only question was what's going on.

My question, too. Because since December, we have had what is called CONFERENCE WEEK. We discussed this little darling's behavior in detail. We discussed the fact that all his other teachers are having issues with him. Oh yeah, and since then, I have written private school applications for him since then.

What chaps my behind is the fact that she went behind my back and climbed over my head to get to my principal to bitch and moan about me. What is she talking about? Could be anything. Precious didn't get recess on Friday because he hadn't turned in a Social Studies project and tried to turn in some half-assed piece of crap he threw together. Did I tell him he wasn't going to get away with that? Yes, yes I did. Was I frustrated with him (and several of his classmates who tried to pull the same crap?) You bet I was.

His excuse/defense? "I turned it into the substitute." My reply? "Boys and girls? Do we ever turn in anything to a substitute?" And like a choir, they all said, "No. Substitutes lose things."

But, you see, I have no idea what she is talking about, because her e-mail is vague. Her son is immature and almost ADD. Can't stay seated, has trouble focussing, can't get his rear-end in the chair (and believe me, I let the guys who can't stay seated stand by their desks - if it helps them focus, then it helps me teach), but Precious loops his feet across the top of his chair and tries to kneel in his chair. But I am somehow at fault. Lovely.

(My principal, though, said it sounds like Precious is having a bout of fifth-grade-itis. God love her. )

The Blog in which I Reveal That...

I am a complete mental case. After church and lunch, we settled in for a little afternoon nap. Or at least I did. Then I turned on the TV and stumbled on to the train wreck, "Jon and Kate Plus Eight." I cuddled up under my blanket in the bedroom and proceeded to watch three hours of this show. Maybe more; I don't know. All I do know is that I looked up and saw that it was getting dark outside.

What the hell is all I can say.

Uniforms are just getting laundered.

Dinner? We're calling that cereal tonight. Cereal they got for themselves. God bless them for being independent. Not independent enough to launder their own uniforms, but independent enough.

Wednesday, we take the fifth grade to the symphony. I dread this field trip. Trust me.

Ash Wednesday?!

I just walked past the living room (okay, not much going on in there) and I saw the baby Jesus surrounded by the Holy Family, a few wise men, shepherds, sheep, donkey and a camel. Did a double take. How did I miss that? Everything else is safely tucked away for next Christmas - do you think I can somehow use the Nativity scene for Easter this year? Because, boys and girls, this year, it is sneaking right up on us. Seriously, it is a good thing the Easter Bunny has a fur coat. Because this year, he'll probably need it.

Teacher Laptops and the People Who Get to Use Them

First, I am no officially the recipient of PrepGirl's crappy cough and whatnot. My doctor, however, prescribed stuff to make me feel better. I think I was asleep last night - I might have been unconscious, though, and was hallucinating all night long.

LawyerBoy went somewhere and listened to some guy give a presentation and during his presentation, this guy was going to do a powerpoint. (Can you tell I was somewhat delirious when I was listening to this story?) LB said the presenter got up and had one of our county's teacher laptops to do said presentation. When it came time to do his powerpoint, the presenter couldn't log in to the computer. LawyerBoy said he sat there for a second and then said to the presenter, "Can I give it a try?" So the presenter said sure. Well, LawyerBoy jumpped up, typed in the original username and password that were assigned to every teacher in the county and just like magic, the computer booted up.

The presenter looked at LawyerBoy for a second and the first words out of his mouth were, "How do you know my wife?" Are you kidding me?

Sex in the City Day

Today should have been sex in the city day; however, our nurse-talker person managed to be involved in a three car wreck on her way to our school. Of course, we found out ten minutes before we were supposed to pick up our kids from specials and get them sorted and in their places for the big talk.

Now, my plan for today was to plan for the rest of the week and next week. I had no plans for today. Apparently, I am a veteran teacher of sorts. I flew by the seat of my pants, I did not panic and I did not resort to all day recess.

Our sex in the city day has been rescheduled for the end of February. After Valentine's Day. Much better, I think.