Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Lit Teachers and Reading with First Graders...Not Awesome.
Pointing to a sentence and saying: "De-Code that" apparently means nothing. All I got was laughter, and "Mom, I don't know what you're talking about." He keeps eating bananas because they are "good for (his) brain." I asked whether he wanted orange juice or milk, and he responded, "which one makes you the smartest?"
He's honestly learning things so fundamental, I didn't know the rules existed. It makes me wonder; How do we transfer knowledge to our children when the vast majority of the knowledge that we have learned was learned prior to our cognizant memory of having obtained said knowledge? You know? No rule is too small, no instruction too minuscule.
Still, the heart of teaching is the transfer of knowledge. Watching my first grader learn to read inspires me to become a better teacher myself. If my mom can teach my kid to read, I can teach that other high school kid all about compound-complex sentences, parenthetical expressions, independent elements and predicate adjectives (etc, ad nauseum).
Thanks, Mom for teaching Mr. Man to Read, and for teaching me to teach.
Friday, September 19, 2008
I made it back to the gas station. ON FUMES. The 59 year old cash register lady with the fancy tatoo on her chest let me get $33 of gas, because "Thars u credit on thayt pump fer that. I caint give you no more 'n dat, Yull have to tayk thayat up with the manager." Another cash register lady yelled at me from the back room. I didn't know what she said. My brain was too busy screaming in my ear. I was watching myself from a distance. I wasn't angry. Wasn't angry. The lady with the rose on her...chest... said, "Aye dont know why anyone'd just tayke Sevn' dollrs. They should'a taken all uvit."
Yes, they should have taken all of it. That makes sense.
$7. I hope it went to someone who really needed it.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Big Sis and I have been trying to practice our act. I'll know, however, that if I ever get invited to a big city, and my daughter requests that I meet her at a TV studio for a "makeover," that I am in big trouble.
The drama of the two queen bees coupled with our mutual choleric-melancholy personalities is a sight to behold. I need a writing/ art/ reading/ running studio where I can go and de-stress. So does she. But let's face it...that AINT gonna happen.
In case anyone was wondering, there is no "MAJOR" crisis. There are about ten minor ones. Granted, these might seem MAJOR to some people, but it's normal stuff around here. Just not ten at a time.
I told a student recently, that it is best to learn to stay afloat in the tempest, because if you are waiting for calm waters to set sail, you'll most likely stay on the beach. Sure there will be those beautiful and picturesque days, but often, they will be stormy indeed. I'm not sinking to the bottom just yet. My boat is not fancy, but it is seaworthy.
Thanks for the calls and emails.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
My heart hurts so much I'm inclined to change the background of my blog to black. Perhaps I should dig up some black fingernail polish to commemorate my glum mood.
I might need to put a sign on my blackboard tomorrow that says: "Don't speak to me today. Don't look at me, and Don't even DREAM of breathing audibly. Violators will be fed to the dragon of despair."
Yet...though I do walk through a valley, I know that others have valleys much deeper and more treacherous that they are walking through right now.
I remind myself that a reward is something that you work for. A blessing is a gift. I am blessed beyond compare, for I fear that my work has never measured up. Prayer is so essential. Due to my complete lack of "normal" life skills, I am constantly reminded of my inadequacies. Honestly, I'm okay with that.
Today, however, I'm looking for a pic-axe and a rope to climb out of this valley.
Monday, September 15, 2008
I'm ADDICTED to dictionary.com. Am I the only one? Not only can you read about words, you can also LISTEN TO THEIR pronunciation. .......oooohhh.....
It helps when you speak a bit of Old English, and you can say to your children, "You're a lyin'. I can see it in your eyen!", and your grammar remains intact.
Chaucer starts this week. I love that crazy guy. His tales were INSANE, and contained so much satire. I think the kids will dig it. We're doing a very non-classical thing, however, and reading only PORTIONS. Medieval humor was...well... let's just say the sailors would be blushing.
When I run, sometimes I become very emotional. Deep Thoughts + Deep Pain = Emotions Galore. Major prayer and God-n-me time. Crazy. Crazy connections. I ran for a couple of hours on Sunday, and I about started crying three times. Not cute little "glistening" tears, but the kind of crying where you look something like Large Marge from Pee-Wee's Big Adventure. However, I don't want to be the crazy lady who runs around the neighborhood crying. So I put on my stoic costume and ran around instead. Large Marge kept wanting to come out, and I had to keep pulling out the costume to cover up her contorted face.
Words and Exercise:
If I have something to say, and I still have something to say when I'm done running, it's probably worth saying. And I have something to say. I'll say it later.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
I love Lit, and since it's a bit "Areopagus-ish," I'll leave it in its place. I have a lot to say about the books we're covering right now. My goal is to add a snippet for each book. So there you have it. All two LitHappy Readers can come for a visit.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
But...In the precarious tight-rope walk of ideas, the tension is oftentimes too much for the acrobat to bear. The tiny rope that leads me from one side of the chasm to the other is likely to snap, and I fear I will fall to the bottom of the ravine, never to be found again.For today... I choose not to walk that rope. Instead, I cast my vote for gooberness.
Case in point: Little Mr. Man went to the bathroom tonight. As soon as he sat down, I heard him shout: "FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!"
No, the Areopagus is not as interesting as goober humor.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Two: My Life, TMI
And yet, I don't push the button: PUBLISH. Despite my ornery husband's encouragement to do so.
Impulse Control...I think I can, I think I can...
And now, we can all still be friends. Your minds can wonder about my opinions, and I will gladly give them if you pick up the phone and call. But girlfriends, thay ain't goin' on the WEB! (well..at least not tonight...).
Tonight, no one will be chastised.
I will simply say: Hey ladies... You all rock. Take a twenty and buy yo-self sumpin purty.
Oh, and the Boyz-trying to be Men, too... We ladies are pretty glad you all are on this planet. Go kill a deer or something.