It depends on what I'm planning

I love a good plan.  It makes me anticipate happy things and it eases my anxiety about getting everything done.  My plans are enthusiastically specific. I know what day I'm taking the turkey out of the freezer and putting it in the fridge.  Plans soothe my soul.

My plans are all about the holidays.  I have my Thanksgiving weekend planned down to the list of things I'm having Mark repair in my classroom.  (Adam could do it, but Adam's busy and Mark and Braeden are going to go and hang up Christmas stuff for me anyway.)  

I am excited about my advent calendar for my students. I painted my elf door for my classroom.  

in spray painting progress...I'm going to attach magnets to it and have it stick to one of my walls

My gift spreadsheet is humming along. (The books I ordered from Scholastic for my class may not be here in time because of all the supply chain business.  I may give them Valentine books instead.)

I'm crossing things off my list.

I love every bit of it.

I was so excited about all the Christmas candy (for my class advent calendar) and gluten free stuff (for my favorite celiac kid) that I almost listened to Christmas music on the way home from the store.

Almost.

I may love being a precrastinator, but Christmas music must be saved until after Thanksgiving.

That's just science.

I'm less good at planning what's for dinner.

I make a loose plan, but it's a plan I don't really follow (or honestly even think I'll follow when I make the plan).

For example, there was a pound of frozen hamburger on the counter with the intention of shepherd's pie when Adam and Emma got home from work last night.  (Emma had some of her nasty not meat in the fridge to make her own version.

Emma and I both decided we weren't that hungry.  Adam had to go to the church for the evening.  I sat across from him and we ate some Triscuits and Havarti dill cheese and exchanged stories about the day before he left.  Later I had a bowl of raisin bran.  Also, I found some bean soup leftovers in the fridge that Adam made on Saturday.

"Hey, can I take that in my lunch?" I asked.  No one objected.

Sometimes I'm a ridiculous planner and sometimes I am happily surprised by bean soup.

I don't know.

Hurray!

I use up plenty of space on here writing about what is hard about my job.  Here are two things that happened yesterday that I am still smiling about.

They couldn't get logged into Lexia, which is a literacy computer program we use daily.  One of the boys asked, "Can you read to us?"

Reading to children is one of my favorite things in the world.  When they want me to read to them?  It feels like Christmas morning.

***

Every time I pick my class up from a specialty class, I ask the teacher how they did.  Usually they respond that they were "OK" or "Pretty good."

Yesterday, I picked them up from art and there was a sub, which isn't a winning combination for good behavior.

I asked, "How did they behave?"  

She said, "They were really good.  They were the best behaved class I've had all day."

Last year I would hear things like that all the time.  Last year, my class was angelic.  This year....

But yesterday!  I felt giddy.  I usually give them a letter toward the word we are spelling if I get a good report.  Yesterday I gave them two letters.

I was that happy.

Reaping what you sow

Yesterday I staked Jami out in the office because I wanted to talk about my evaluation before school started.  I said, "I don't want to be stressed about this any more."

He smiled and asked, "You're stressed?"

I told him what Mark had said about him taking the weekend to hire my replacement.  

Jami laughed and said, "What kind of son would say that?"

My son.

The whole apple not falling far from the tree is at play here though.  On Friday I asked Mark if he'd registered for next semester and he said that he had intended to, but forgot what day it was.

I said, "Maybe you aren't smart enough for college."

They got it from somewhere, those cheeky kids.

I got it from somewhere too.  I'll just leave that there.

My conversation with Jami went well.  He gave me good feedback and I want good feedback because ultimately I want to be better and the only way I can get better is if I get feedback.

Yay me for having a terrible lesson and getting lots of feedback!  Like I told Jami, it wasn't my worst lesson ever, but it was my worst lesson ever being observed during.

My mom told me her worst observation was when she was student teaching and her own son was misbehaving terribly during class.  If she had asked me which son, I would have said Tabor for sure, but it was Enoch.  And I guess it could have been either of them.  I remember them as teenagers....

At least my cheeky son wasn't in my class.

That's something.

The good news

 The good news is that I waited until I was driving home and on the phone with Adam before I started crying.

The bad news is that I had a pretty rotten day at school on Friday.  I had misbehavior from some students (I have a few that are SO hard to manage), I had a few interpersonal struggles (being a person is hard sometimes), and I had an observation that did not go well.

Jami was gone to a meeting after school so I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet.  Mark said he was probably taking the weekend to find my replacement. (Who says teenage sons aren't supportive?)

So I had my little pity party and then as the weekend progressed, I learned of other, bigger, harder things in the lives of people I love and adore.  Why can't I shield my people from sadness?

At our Relief Society presidency meeting on Sunday afternoon, we talked about heavy things concerning some of our ward members who are struggling.

And we talked about hope.

We talked about how knowledge of the Gospel and its principles is wonderful, especially when things are humming along nicely.

When things aren't so great, it is hope we cling to.  It is the reassurance from the Spirit that always comes eventually, sweetly.

That is the best news of all.

Grateful Friday

Yesterday some fifth grade girls came into my class with a small box and asked me if I wanted a poppy.

I said, "Did you make these?"

They smiled shyly and said, "Kind of...."

Fifth grade girls are cute and I appreciate whatever adult helped them and did the rest of the kind of.

I also loved my poppy pin.

I told my students about it.  Awhile ago, we had come across the word reckless and they thought it was the same as rebellious and I explained the differences.  I mentioned that it wasn't always bad to be rebellious.

One of my straight arrow rule following boys (I don't have enough of those!) was taken aback and asked, "When is it OK to be rebellious?"

That led to a talk about Rosa Parks and the Boston Tea Party. (3rd graders can get behind unfairness in all its forms and they were full of righteous indignation.)

We talked a little about the Revolutionary War.

Now, weeks later, I was telling them about World War I and World War II.  I explained whose side we were on.

One student said, "Wait!  Was this before or after the Revolutionary War?  Because why were we helping England?"

I explained it was after and we are friends with England now.  It was a great segue for a lesson on forgiveness and moving on (which is another skill they need at times) but we had math to get to.

The fact that we have school on Veteran's Day has always bugged me a bit.  Veteran's are worth remembering and appreciating and honoring.

Yesterday as I wore my poppy pin and talked to my students about wars and stood with them to say the pledge of allegiance, I thought maybe it's not so bad that we go to school on Veteran's Day.  It's not just a long weekend holiday.  It's an opportunity to talk about and remember.

I am grateful for veterans.  Our military takes risks and makes sacrifices that I can only imagine.  I'm grateful for their families too.  

When I think about the long list of freedoms I owe to soldiers who fought, I am grateful.

 

Sometime I pretend that I don't precrastinate

My friend Camie is one of the secretaries at school.  I love her!  

She was gone for a few days, but back yesterday.  I sat in the office and caught up with her about all the things.  I had plenty to do in my classroom.  Of course I did.  But I had missed Camie.

She told me that she had planned to start on Christmas shopping on her days off, but that didn't happen.

I chuckled along like I could relate.

I can't relate.

As you can see, I'm not very fastidious about gift wrapping.  I apply my normal amount of good enough and then tie a red ribbon on it (I tie all the red ribbons on at the end).  Also, I haven't swerved from my Christmas palette. The blue package is, of course, for Mark's birthday.   

Speaking of Mark, that's his shoe photo bombing on the side there.  He left it there when he was last home and I've left it there because it looks like he's going to come home soon and put that shoe on.

I miss him.

How are the kids?

Last night at Relief Society, one of my friends asked me how the kids are.  At first I thought she meant my own children and then I realized she meant my class.  She has subbed for me.  (The secret to survival this year with lots of teachers training and unfilled sub jobs is to recruit people in your ward.)  We chatted for a few minutes about my class.  They were naughty when I wasn't there.  They are naughty when I am there. This is by far my hardest class discipline-wise.  I asked her if she wanted to sub again next month when I have training again.  She said yes.

See?  You need people like this.

How are the kids though?  Not great.

Some of them have been absent so much that they are behind and frustrated.  Some of them can't read well enough to do a lot of the assignments.  Some of them have such hard home situations that they are struggling to be happy and seem to be on a quest to make everyone else unhappy.  Some of them can't speak English very well.

Yesterday I was in the work room, making copies and chatting with a few other teachers.  Emily newly has two of the hardest kids in the school at the same time now.  I asked, "How are you going to do that?"

She said that another teacher gave her the idea of putting their names on the prayer roll at the temple.

These are the kinds of teachers I work with.

She said, "I need help.  We need help."

The two little ones we were talking about are sweet and adorable and victims of bad parental decisions before they were even born.  They are also really really hard to manage.

I love thinking of enlisting help to pray for them.  I love thinking of help hovering about that dear little school, called down from heaven to assist us in loving and teaching these struggling children of a Heavenly Father who loves them.

There is a feeling in that school that other people notice too.  Maybe it is the prayers of the teachers.

Sunday we had a devotional all about helping us parent adult children.  It was fabulous.  I keep thinking about one thing that was said, "There are no finalities.  There is always a next step."

It applies to third graders too.

They aren't finished yet.