Open House Blues…Harmonica September 30, 2013

 

Tomorrow, the folks at my  workplace will be burning down  opening the house.  This means a twelve hour workday. I still don’t know what I’m going to wear.  I know that there will be a good turnout, because the rumor has been spread about the free hot dogs. I will see members of extended families for the first and only time this school year (barring a free spaghetti dinner).  I won’t be eating the hot dogs, but if you saw what I had the energy to feed my family tonight, you would stop picturing that lovely Caprese platter . That happened during my turn as a balanced human during the summertime.

Here’s how it works on the last day of September: Peachy nearly nods off in the car on the way home, then decides that working out would be a spectacular idea!  I did it, but there were many points during that annoying DVD when I was moments away from either kicking in the non-flat screen or shifting to a lying down meditation.

Once I completed that little foray into masochism, the thought of cooking anything brought me to the verge of tears.  The notion of even opening a CAN was almost more than I could stand.  And I spent $100 at the grocery store yesterday.  A lot of yogurt, fresh meat, and paper products, apparently, because there was NOTHING in the house that would prepare itself.  Never mind that I cooked a full-on turkey dinner and apple crisp yesterday.  I shudder to think of the shape I shall be in by tomorrow evening.  Something must be done to liven things up.

In the interest of this pursuit of vivification, my colleagues and I have decided that we prefer to share our curriculum presentation in mime, with harmonica accompaniment.  I am surrounded, via a strange convergence of musical passions, by a number of virtuoso harmonicasters.

We haven’t run this by the administration yet, but, really, who could have a problem with that? What do you want, a Powerpoint?

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Literacy in Action! September 28, 2013

This year, I teach skills such as  phonics.  That’s the stuff that makes your brain understand the code involved in reading letter sounds and words. 

Example:

The word “stock” has a consonant blend: st, which retains two sounds in the word.  It ends with a digraph: ck, which consists of two consonants that combine to make one sound.  

Sweet 7-yr-old raises her hand.  

“Like when you stalk someone!”

Welcome to second grade. 

image: http://www.picstopin.com

Big People/Small People September 21, 2013

I have teleported to a land where people are shorter than me.  Also, they love my jewelry. I know of no better response than to curtsy in the middle of my higher level instruction.

Surprising similarities abound, however, between the youngsters and the older youngsters over whom I wardened previously.

•  They share a passion for bathing in hand sanitizer.
•  They want their hands on walls when they walk in the hall—this may have something to do with the hand sanitizer obsession.
• They go through pencils a la woodchucks chucking wood

Charming stuff:

• Sweet, darling girls declare their love in heart-encrusted notage on a daily basis. “I love you so so so so so much. Do you have a heart of love?”
• “Miss Peachy! Miss Peachy! It’s almost Halloween! In the store, I saw bones (skeletons)! Not real ones!”
• After lunch: “I’m soooooo tired. Can we watch a movie? What about a video?”

They do rival my older classes in the hypochondriac  department, however.  Clearly, I am poised for another banner year in my relationship with the school nurse.  Their necks hurt, their shoulders hurt, their eyes hurt, and lord knows their TUMMIES hurt!  I am filled with gratitude when I recall the day in history that gave rise to this post:  wheelchair . Also, this one: more wheelchairs in education.

Even the full moon wasn’t too bad.  Unless you count the fire drill.  During which half of my class migrated to the first grade line, and almost walked to the corner store.

image: http://teamvfirstgradefun.blogspot.com/2013/06/teacher-love-notes.html

For Mild-Mannered Rap Daddies (and Moms) September 8, 2013

 

I am a little bit embarrassed at how charmed I am by this.  If you are extremely cool, you may want to go Keurig yourself while the rest of us are saying, “YO. What?” under our breaths.

Slammin’ Poetry

For my readers who write and/or appreciate poetry: the following should make you feel like an amazing poet.  You’re welcome.

Season’s Boo-Hoo

My ghetto pool

Shivers blue in the cool air.

My students, they did not pass the LSATs  state tests.

My lesson plans

Resemble the collected works

Of Tolstoy.

This rosy apple is little comfort.

Cruel September.

Ain’t summer no more.

Creating a learning environment, OR My post-apocalyptic classroom September 4, 2013

Last week:

I am a friend of the custodians, really. I contribute to their holiday cookie tray and everything.  However, the shine on that relationship is a bit tarnished at the moment.  No cleaning pun intended.

First, the good news: I am changing classrooms! More specifically, I am teaching a younger grade level this year!  I am quite happy with this change, but it has led to some complications in the classroom preparations department.  School begins one week from tomorrow.  Our building opened for teachers to prepare their rooms TODAY.  I will be in workshops and unable to go in until Friday.  I am moving stuff from the old room to the new, different grade level room.

The reason for this delay is that the custodians were unable to clean the building any earlier.  Apparently, they have been directed to clean all surfaces very slowly, using cotton swabs.  As a result, I am poised to have the most minimalist classroom ever (yes, I considered that word choice carefully).

This week:

My classroom has evolved into its minimalist self. There is a calendar.

This is good news, when you consider the fact that there was every likelihood that this room was going to wind up resembling this:

Image:http://www.coloribus.com/adsarchive/tv-commercials/febreze-hotel-14514805/

The jarring reality is that the room has a fragrance reminiscent of nothing so much as the swine barn at the fair. This despite the painstaking, cotton swabbing, scrub-o-mania undertaken by the custodial staff.  Luckily, I know where the Febreze store is located.

Please pray for me, that my first day with students doesn’t resemble my anxiety dreams.

I thank you.