My A Game

When I started teaching at my current school, I was a little nervous about the open space floor plan. We don't have walls. We don't have doors. We may as well have microphones, because everything we say is broadcast to at least three other classrooms. My principal described it as teaching in a fishbowl, and that's how it felt at first. I was intensely aware of everything I said, especially if I said it in my mean teacher voice.

Over time, I've stopped focusing so much on what I say, and instead, started paying attention to what I hear: the teacher next door. In an open space school, I'm not just a teacher; I also get to be a student. All day long, I have the opportunity to learn from a master. I'll admit, she sets the bar so high, sometimes it's a real challenge even trying to keep up. But it's the trying that's making me better. Every day, I have to bring my A Game. I'll still never be as good as she is, but every day, I'm better than I was before.

Here are a few of the new and improved things I did this Christmas.




Classroom Project




Presents for Mom and Dad




Presents for the kids~handmade, personalized capes. Yeah, I would have done that on my own.

Please Pass the Sugar

If your child's a picky eater like mine, I have a recipe for Thanksgiving turkey that is guaranteed to be a big hit at the kids' table. And it only requires one ingredient: sugar.


Thanksgiving Turkey Pops

Ingredients



Lollipop-shaped Sugar




Barrel-shaped Sugar




Fruit Slice-shaped Sugar




Worm-shaped Sugar



Mix all ingredients well.




Sweet!


They'll gobble them up.

Practice What You Preach

Starbucks is big on Community Service. They say so right on their website:

We believe in being good neighbors.

Every Starbucks is a part of a community, and we’re committed to helping neighborhoods thrive wherever we do business. It’s a commitment rooted deep in our heritage and the belief that we can use our scale to be a catalyst for positive change.

Now, more than ever, communities are relying on the private sector to share resources and help drive meaningful change. At Starbucks, we’ve always valued community service, and our partners have been fostering this “culture of good” since we opened our first store in 1971.

But when I walked in today and asked them to donate 20 little paper cup sleeves so my kids could make these cute ships, they said something else.





They said no.

I wonder if they've read their website?

Where the Sidewalk Mends

When school was over today, instead of their usual playground fun, my son and a couple of his friends got down to work. On their hands and knees, they clawed at the gravel like dogs burying a bone. Pebbles rained down into holes in the sidewalk, patching the path till the surface was smooth—more or less. I asked them why they were working so hard instead of playing.

"So nobody's wheelchair gets stuck in there."

It's Grandparents' Week at our school and the grandparents we've seen run the gamut. Some are smoking hot grannies, owning the halls in tight jeans and high heels. But others are very, very old, making their way to their grandbaby's classroom only with the help of a wheelchair—and three sweet little boys.

Good Hair Day

I wasn't in my classroom five minutes this morning before my students' behavior had me in tears. In this case, it was a very good way to start the day.

One of my little princesses was having a hair emergency. This is more common than you might think among four-year-old girls. It's important that one look one's best for a full day of nose picking and Barbie playing. And this little girl did not have what she deemed an adequate hairstyle for her agenda. When Dad brought her to the classroom, it was evident that she had made her dissatisfaction clear on the drive to school. Apparently, very clear.

I wanted her to be happy, so I did my best to find a ponytail holder to solve her problem, but I struck out. I needed to move on with our day, so she was going to have to wait.

But not for long.

Another little girl in our class, let's just call her My Favorite, was paying attention. Without being asked, she took the ponytail out of her own hair and used the holder to take care of her friend. Gently, she smoothed her friend's hair into place and, without a word, returned to her seat.





I wish I could teach them half as much as they teach me.

Putting My Big Girl Panties On

My bedroom has a built-in state-of-the-art security system. If anyone heavier than Stuart Little tries to enter the room, the floor CREEEAKS so loudly that it not only wakes us, it wakes everyone within a three house radius.

And that is why I went commando today.

It was 6:30 this morning when I was tippy toeing around in the dark, trying to piece together a decent outfit to go garage saling in. My only real criteria was that everything be close enough to reach in three creaks or less, and clean enough that it passed the sniff test. In only two creaks, I managed to dig a skirt and bra out of the dumping ground I have created on the top of my husband's dresser. Three creaks later, I scrounged a shirt off the floor of my son's closet. One more creak, and I was slipping on a pair of shoes waiting by the door.

I was fine with the fact that my naughty bits would be getting a breath of fresh air. Anything that helps keep me cool on an Arkansas summer day has to be a good idea, right? Well, you'd think so. Except for one critical garage sale design flaw. When they run out of tables, they just stack stuff on the ground. And unless you're Sharon Stone, do you really want to be caught in that position?

Luckily, there is a law of garage saling that is as steadfast as gravity: If you need it, it will be there. And today, I needed undies.



Yes, they do go up to my armpits and make me feel about as sexy as Andy Rooney, but they're new and they fit and they were only a buck. I would have preferred something a little less Victorian and a little more Victoria's Secret, but you can't always get what you want. You get what you need.

Changing of the Guard

Today is the last day of summer vacation.

More to the point, today is the last day I get to share all my time with my boy. He's been my shadow all summer long—like a puppy, following close on my heels. It's been indescribably sweet, and I'm savoring the last hours.



Good puppy. Sit. Stay!


I could get good and sad about this special time coming to an end, if it weren't for the fact that all my days are filled with special time just like this. Only the faces change.








Who says teachers aren't paid well? I'm rich, I say, rich!