Whew! I just finished my third week of student teaching and it was exciting, frustrating, disappointing, rewarding and most of all, fast.

I was able to teach two things: Math and paragraph leads. My use of “whew” was an example of leading with an expression. The teacher talk is infiltrating my brain, finally. Teacher talk, or correct, professional and common terminology is so important. Because without it, let’s face it, it’s just talk.

And now for the humorous. I’ve been trying to accessorize my former office attire (i.e., I bought some jewelry.) The first week one of the girls in class asked me, “Are those real pearls?”

“No,” I replied.

“I didn’t think so,” she said.

Well, since I work with jewelry appraisers I’ll have by better knock-offs. These fakers were from Talbots so I thought I was on the right track.

My school is in a pretty affluent neighborhood. Yesterday I was doing playground duty (I still laugh every time I hear duty) and notice a building that boarded the playground. Was this building with two story-high, giant windows a church? No, that house belongs to Bobby Smith’s* family. Hmm.

I’m learning how to corral and silence this group of children. I realize of course, that I’ll have to re-learn these skills with another group. I’ve found with these kids it’s like trying to get the attention of a room full of drunks. You either need to make a loud noise or say something very off-beat or interesting. For example praising the listening skills of the rowdiest kid in the room during his two minute break often gets the desired attention.

 Finally, one of the funniest moments was last Friday. For my benefit they were coming up with describing words that matched the first sound of their last name such as Smiling Stevens. It was an exercise to help me remember their last names. One of the boys asked my co-operating teacher (his teacher since September) what her last name was.

She looked at him bewildered and told him. “It’s Jones*. As in Mrs. Jones.”

“No way! That’s your last name,” he responded, honestly shocked.

Wow, you can’t get much past him!

*All names have been changed to CMA.

jem-just-a-ride.mp3

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Which is what Jon would truly be like if we didn’t hear his cat.

These resolutions made me laugh. I’m actually about to fill up the helium balloons right now.

• Quitting Smoking: For every cigarette you smoke, eat two.
• Losing Weight: Put down that shrink ray! Instead, attach thousands of colorful helium balloons to your person. The balloons take pressure off the scale and give you colorful plumage. Soon, you’ll be a neighborhood folk hero beloved by children and ignored by the elderly.

I start student teaching tomorrow and this site will be a forum for me to do daily journals about my student teaching experience. Of course, I will try to add other blog information if I think of it.

I am in a wedding this weekend. I will never be in another non-relative wedding again. I vow. Not only am I wearing Hunter Green the bride, (a 36-year old second time bride) is running around like Scarlet O’Hara and taking serious amounts of my copious time. I’m not even the maid of honor!

Seriously, some people take the “it’s your day” mentality to true diva proportions.

Note to self: never ever include others in a second wedding.

Additional note to self: don’t have a second wedding.

There is no reason for posting these pictures other they made me laugh.

Ha, he “he will have aged gracefully.” Not so much.

I found this photo on my IPhone and jazzed it up at picnik.com. Since I mention no names, I figure its okay to share on the blog. Before I student teach I’ll put it up in the classroom for them.

Spiderman scooter: check

Photo for generous Aunt Andrea and family: Check!

Something is missing…

Spiderman halloween costume mask: check!

Watching a three-year-old who truly believes he is Spiderman: priceless.

Here are two portraits of me created by my before and after students. Not too bad looking! At least they didn’t make me look like the Stay Puff Marshmallow man with glasses.

 

See how in the first portrait how I am wearing a sleeveless pink dress? That happens about once every ten years. Very observant! Also, in the second portrait you can see my giant, orange heart. So true, I wear my heart, big and orange, on my chest everytime I teach. :)

There is a second grader in our school’s before and after program that is a tough cookie.

He’s smart, he’s helpful and I like him a lot but he isn’t often nice to peers.

He says bad things to them, hits them, takes away toys, and when the victim tells of their injustice lies about what happened, even in the face of many witnesses.

On top of that when he has to pay the piper for this bad behavior he gives us a big fat “No.”

Blah! I’ve called mom at work. We’ve physically moved him to the office. I’ve withheld good things and pushed rewards.

We even talked about him as a subject tonight in class. I am supposed to ask my office staff for more support. Ha. Not likely.

He told the office that he lies because we don’t give him a chance to tell his case. How is that possible? I let him tell his side of the story before making any accusations.

It’s hard when one student tell me “He ripped the toy out of my hands and then slapped me across the face with it.” Then his side of the story is about how the other student dropped the toy and he picked it up and skipped off with it into a field of daisies.

Seriously I am at wits end.Unfortunately, the last two hours of the day neither he nor I have the energy for this struggle every day. I just want to kick back, do art and have fun not deal with his abusiveness to his peers. Maybe I should tell him that.

I’ve notice that parts of the 80s are back. Some of the parts I participated in the first round so that makes me out of the loop this round.

I did create a very amusing retro slide show about the PE activity of “Cup Stacking.” Included was the classic Beverly Hills Cop theme. It was a toss up between that and a Herbie Handcock song. Listen to both and pick your favorite.

beverly-hills-cop-axel-foley-theme.mp3

herbie-hancock-rockit.mp3

Now for the fashion. The idea of what 80s fashion should be wasn’t so bad. See below.

How it translated into fashion for the 35 plus demographic was so, so very ugly.

These women were suppose to be well-dressed and highly stylized. The rest of us just ended up with unflattering, drop waist, baggy clothing with shoulder pads the size of the padding in the WonderBras of the early 90s. Hey, I always wondered what they did with all those extra shoulder pads when they dropped out of fashion….

I am by no means a Scrooge, but years ago I decided to be a Christmas time minimalist.

I decorate; I celebrate, but I turn on “Christmas” only on the days it needs to be turned on. By “Christmas” I am not referring to the Christian themes of loving, giving, caring and sharing that we should always be focused on, I’m talking about the Christmas of the Hallmark channel.

That’s the Christmas where everything is perfect, even if you are The Waltons living in the Great Depression. That means if you are an average person living in the Great Recession you better darn well have a perfect Christmas season or something is seriously wrong with you. (By the way, I think they were allowed to call it a Depression back then because Depression did not mean “Get yourself on some pills” like it does now.)

Frankly, I feel this whole month of society-induced expectation for perfection makes everything that is slightly, less-than-perfect magnified. That is why we have the Christmas Blues.

It’s like having a massive, allergic reaction at Disney world. The mind cannot compute. Impossible!

Thank goodness for the recession. At least we all get a shot in the arm of reality this season to remind us that, no matter how close to Martha Stewart’s home ours appears, it will not create world peace.

I’m not trying to begrudge those of you who enjoy the Pre-Christmas high. Personally, I like to use the entire month as a reason to validate consuming copious amounts of alcohol. Just remember all, that some of us feel like bursting into tears all Christmas season because some normal life event has been put under the microscope by the mean, ant bully of society’s expectations.

It isn’t me this year. That is because I have scaled back my expectations of Christmas years ago. I think it started when I tried to get a friend to go to Christmas Eve mass at a snooty Catholic church. She and her friend showed up 80 sheets to the wind and smelling like “My Brother’s Bar.” I still drug them to half the mass, but the dirty looks from the fellow church goers were enough to make me want to hide under a pew even as I type this. Lesson one; you don’t need to go to Christmas service with others.

In conclusion, I’d like to conclude my favorite non-Christmas song that has helped me heal in times of emotional depression and recession. I like to meditate on the words and focus on freeing myself from the baggage that comes, not just with the season but with life.  It’s called “Love is Letting Go of Fear” by Olivia Newton-John.