tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73977557009823179702024-03-13T20:05:02.341-07:00Loving La Vida LocaUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-27545187336610802632018-10-27T18:08:00.000-07:002018-10-27T18:08:07.156-07:00Old Teacher, New Tricks<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am currently in my 25th year of teaching. Years ago, I would be only 5 years from retirement. That is not the case anymore. I have ten years before I can even consider retiring. I am tired. I am trying to keep up with all of the new ways of teaching. It's exhausting. I genuinely feel bad for all of the new teachers coming in. There have been so many new things that they need to learn stat! I hope that they give themselves the gift of time. You would think that after 25 years, and a gradual introduction to all the new ways of teaching, I would have it all nailed. Well, I don't. I'm trying. I read books, blogs and anything I can get my hands on. I want to to the very best that I can for my students. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So it's time to take a step back and take stock of everything that is in my wheelhouse. What do I believe about teaching? What do I know about children? What do I know about my students? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My beliefs haven't changed. I believe in making learning exciting and attainable for every single little one in my class. I believe that everyone can and will learn. I believe in joy. I believe in a balanced literacy approach to teaching. It has to be balanced because the kids are all so different. I believe in reading aloud to children. They get so excited about the characters and what is happening in the story! It's amazing to get to be a part of that. I believe in shared reading, hanging back with my own voice so that the kids can construct meaning and work together to figure out the tricky words. I believe in guided reading so that the children have an opportunity to practice everything I am teaching them with prompting and praise for their efforts. I believe that children need to feel productive discomfort so that they work hard to solve problems using a variety of strategies. I believe that science is important so that kids never stop asking questions. I believe kids need to learn about the world around them and work hard to make their mark for a better place. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I know that kids are kids. They want to play and they want to learn and explore. I know that learning is harder for some and easier for others. Some kids excel at math and struggle to read. Some kids make a lot of friends and some are lonely. Introverts are not always shy and extroverts aren't always happy. Families are different and kids come from so many different backgrounds and experiences. I know that I will show up for them as often as I can. I genuinely love my students and want the very best experience for them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I study hard to know what my students know and what they need next. I listen when they are reading and ask myself what they do when they come to a tricky word and what they need to learn next. In math, I observe their work and listen in to the conversations they are engaging in... or if they aren't getting involved in the conversation at all. I know my students as writers because we are all part of the same writing community. Some write and write and write. Other kids finish one book every few weeks. They struggle, for a variety of reasons. I know these things so that I can teach them what they need. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So why "Old teacher, new tricks"? Knowing my students and teaching them what they need doesn't seem like enough anymore. It seems like I have to teach so much more than I used to. This digital age makes me feel inadequate at times. I really don't like that feeling. So I work harder. I learn the new things and I think about my kids and what they will get excited about. I think about how they can use digital tools and make them meaningful to the kids and their work. It's exhausting. Sometimes there's too much. I just want to go back to the simplicity of learning what they need next and teaching that to them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have to teach differently. I'm just not sure how. I think about it all the time. I wonder what I can do to increase their level of engagement. And then it happens... they are excited to read and write and problem solve. I never really know exactly what did it. I just know that it happens and it's so wonderful for the children and for me. I will keep plugging away. I will keep learning and I will continue to grow as an educator. I will learn the new tricks. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One thing I'm sure of though... I will hold on to the good stuff. I will continue to strive to know my students and to help them to figure out how they need to learn. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-19364628392809020592017-03-07T18:23:00.002-08:002017-03-07T18:26:30.099-08:00Err in Favor of the Child<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I was in Reading Recovery training, I was always so stressed about whether or not I was properly analyzing the running records. I knew that it was very important to get it right so that I could properly discern the strengths and needs of the child. I wanted my instruction to be just what the child needed. <br />
One day, my teacher leader came to visit me. She was such a kind, understanding, supportive teacher leader. I told her how stressed I was and she told me with no hesitation that when I was in doubt, I should always err in favor of the child. I had never heard that before and it made perfect sense. <br />
This is very different than giving the child more credit than is due. We should always make sure that children are solid in their understandings, but when in doubt about coding or analyzing a running record, err in favor of the child. <br />
This concept came from Marie Clay. Marie studied children who read well to understand what reading behaviors children should have under control. She used this research to help millions (maybe even billions) of reading teachers understand reading strategies. So many of the strategies are "in the head behaviors". We can not know for sure what they are thinking, but most of the time, based on their reading behaviors, we can tell which strategies they are using. But if not, err in favor of the child. <br />
Remember that we take many running records on our students. If we are mistaken when we give a child the benefit of the doubt, it will show up on the other running records as we code and analyze their reading and behaviors. <br />
I love Marie Clay for so many reasons. The BEST thing about her is that she always put the child first. She always believed that every child could read and when in doubt, she would always err in favor of the child. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-20141219988199966552017-03-05T15:11:00.003-08:002017-03-05T15:11:57.682-08:00Listening to Readers Away from the Guided Reading Table<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Teachers work hard every day to know their readers. They carefully craft guided reading plans based on what they know about the strengths and needs of the children. They look through the guided reading books to find just the right one at the right time. They find a word or two that might be hard to figure out using meaning, structure and visual information, planning on having the kids predict and locate those words during the introduction, along with an explanation of the vocabulary or the strange way that the word looks. We want the children to have the just right amount of words to figure out with the just right amount of support. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Most kids are very successful when reading at the guided reading table because of all of the best laid plans of the teacher. When they can't solve a word, we are right there to prompt them for the reading behaviors that we have introduced to them. It's a beautiful thing. When a child comes to an unknown word and he or she uses the known strategies and rereads to gather more meaning, but can't get it, we give them a told. After the reading, we might take them back to the word to show them what they could have done to figure it out. If they couldn't have figured it out with what they know, we let it go, noting the things that the child tried. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But what happens when they are reading on their own? Sometimes, without intending to, teachers become codependent to the needs of the children. I like to compare it to swimming. When children first enter the water, we hold onto them and make sure they don't go under for too long (read aloud). Then, as they are beginning to have a foothold on the technique we are teaching them, we let them do more and more of the work (shared reading). Then, when it becomes evident that they are almost there and we know they can do it, we let them, standing close enough just in case (guided reading). The goal is for them to do it all on their own (independent reading). Sometimes we are so afraid that they can't do it we stand too close and jump in too much so that they don't have the opportunity (in swimming and in reading). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We won't know what the children have a firm grasp on unless we watch them while they are independently reading. No one has shown them the front cover or taken them to a few places in the book. They haven't given them an introduction or set them up for the just right amount of work. It's a fresh book that they have never seen before and no one has made sure that it is at the right instructional level. The teacher has already taught them how to pick a just right book so we need to see if they can and what they do with the words that trick them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been able to get so much valuable information from watching children independently read. I had assumed that they would be doing the same things in their independent books that they had done at the guided reading table under my watchful eye. Sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. My point is that we really need to make sure that we take the time to listen in when they are working on their own. We need to just listen. No prompting allowed right away. You want to see what they can do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember Adam. He was my star reader of the day in that he had nailed all of the tricky words at the guided reading table on his own. I told him what he did and how it helped him as a reader. He beamed with pride and walked off to read independently. My coach, having watched the lesson told me how great it was to see Adam do so well after he had struggled for so long. It felt great! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My coach asked me how Adam did on his own. I looked at him as if he had gone daft and told him that I listened to him every day and that he did very well. Then he said, "No. I mean how does Adam do in his independent reading books?" Honestly, I had no idea. I was pulling reading groups while he was reading those books. My coach went over and sat next to Adam on the carpet and motioned me over. He told me to just listen to Adam read aloud. I did and what I heard almost made me gasp aloud. Every time he came to an unknown word, Adam would mumble something and read on! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I looked at my coach, dumbfounded. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We stood up and moved away from Adam. He asked me what I thought and I told him that I noticed that Adam was a different reader with me than he was on his own. I knew Adam could do it, but he just didn't make the effort without being at my guided reading table. It was as if he knew the expectations at the table but he thought that they were there for the purpose of reading at the table. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can tell you that my mini-lessons stayed pretty much the same after that. I did know what my kids needed and how they needed it taught (level of support). What did change in my mini-lessons was that I now included the connection that some of them weren't making in their independent reading. I listened in when they were reading every day as part of my routine and I took notes and shared examples. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The difference in their reading was almost instant. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you are reading this post, I hope it has challenged you to think about how you listen to your students read and what you are looking for. It can't just be at the guided reading table. There is so much more to our readers. We need to know what they do when they choose the book, when the book is nonfiction or poetry, fantasy or science fiction. Oh, and try not to jump in when they are reading independently. Just listen. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-1014043514837698672017-03-02T18:45:00.001-08:002017-03-02T18:45:23.882-08:00Create, Build, Wonder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have a new job this year. I didn't ask for the job. I was asked to do the job. I think the world of my principal, so how could I say no? I am always up for an adventure or a challenge, depending on how you look at it. :) <br />
The most exciting (and terrifying) thing about my job is that I was able to create it. There wasn't an existing curriculum. No one had ever done it before. It was up to me. When I took the job I had no idea what I would do with it. I decided that I wanted to incorporate passion projects, technology and stem. <br />
As the year began and I tried to sit down to do some planning, I just couldn't think of what the children might love. I had some ideas of course, but planning for 520 kids ages 5 through 11 made it quite a challenge. I was used to knowing my students, their likes, interests, strengths and needs. I didn't know how to teach children that I didn't know. So the plan became just to begin and see where it went. <br />
The kids were able to choose any passion project that they wanted. The buzz in the room was amazing! Some kids were sewing, while others were learning magic tricks, guitar, keyboard, diy projects and coding to name a few. I didn't have to know everything that they were doing. I only needed the desire to learn, which I did. I became very clever about how to get materials too. Once people hear about what you are doing, and that the kids are excited, people in the community are very willing to donate materials. I didn't get any corporate sponsors. I just had to put it out into the universe and things would show up in my classroom. <br />
At some point, some of the kids were ready to move on to something else. After talking to several kids, I decided to start JW Wonders. They all loved Wonderopolis so we decided to put out our own website to share what we were learning. You can check it out at jwwonders.weebly.com. <br />
Now I am at the point where some kids want to wonder while others are ready for something else. I decided not to throw the baby out with the bath water, so we continue our wondering, but we also have a creativity challenge and a stem challenge. <br />
I am so happy with the things that the children are doing. I think that creating and stem and time to wonder are all important parts of a child's life. I was observing a student building the other day for the stem challenge. He told me that he feels like stem is so cool because he loves physics and he loves to think about all the things that could effect his structure as he builds. I love what I do and my cup is full every day. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-87202765460157554162017-03-01T19:53:00.000-08:002017-03-01T19:53:07.678-08:00Slice of Life 2017! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is my third year participating in the Slice of Life Challenge. I didn't do a very good job of posting every day last year. My goal this year is to actually post every single day. <br />
I love participating in the Slice of Life. I love putting my stories to "paper". They are fun to remember and I love to share them. I also have to admit that I love when people comment on them as well. To begin, I am going to write about what writing means to me. <br />
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Writing is...<br />
...an opening into my soul, allowing me to squeeze out both the joy and the pain.<br />
... a reminder - I can't seem to remember anything on my own anymore.<br />
... a list - I love to write lists and then cross things off as I finish them. <br />
... a keepsake - I have a trunk full of writing from my own children. <br />
... a memory - My grandma's message forever on a canvas on my wall. <br />
... a promise - to have and to hold, to honor and cherish.<br />
... a message - to think upon and to ponder.<br />
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The truth is that writing is a gift in so many ways. I am so glad that I can write and that I can share my writing with you. I am blessed that you share your writing too. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-60935920557400250192016-11-20T15:29:00.000-08:002016-11-20T15:29:42.423-08:00Thankful for Making<br /><br />When I started this adventure of teaching creativity and innovation I thought that I would be guiding young children in passion projects in grades 2-5 and providing a maker space for the little ones in k-1. I thought that the maker space made so much sense in the younger grades because I suspected that the little ones needed that time to explore and make. I was right and wrong. The little ones love to make. It's actually a bit comical to watch them as they work. They have to, and I mean have to get EVERYTHING out at the creation station. I tried to get them to take out only what they need (because clean up is a nightmare - at least it was). They quickly let me know that they need it all. <br /><br />When I look at the things that they make, I have to sometimes fight the "wow that is craptastic" urge that fights to overcome me. The things they make look like they aren't anything meaningful until you talk to them. When I ask them to tell me about what they are working on, their sweet, precious voices tell me what they are working on and they never, ever disappoint. They are so stinking creative, I think that it is something that I could never ever teach. <br /><br />So that got me thinking about that. Kids are so creative... in so many different ways. The more I get out of their way and let them create, the more they are willing to try. They sometimes ask if they can do certain things, with a look like they know that I will say no. Then I say yes and they light up. <div>
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I was wrong when I thought that the 2-5 kiddos would be better off with passion projects. Don't get me wrong, they love to learn about whatever they want to when they come to my class. The thing is that they also love to make. They come in with ideas and sometimes materials because they just aren't sure that I will have it in my room. They love to sew. It's very rudimentary since my skills are very limited, but they try. When their lines aren't straight, they comment their concern, but I tell them that it is a perfect first try. I tell them to celebrate that they did it all by themselves and that they should be very proud. :) </div>
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I'm so thankful for making for several reasons. The two biggest reasons in my life are that I love to make myself. Making helps you to see things in different ways and it makes you feel so empowered to do things yourself, whether perfect or not. The second reason is that I get to watch a whole new world open up to all of the kids in my school. I get to share my passion with them and to help them to find their own. </div>
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Have a wonderful Thanksgiving week everyone! I hope you find yourselves feeling thankful. :) </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-25732907691442690332016-11-03T18:04:00.000-07:002016-11-03T18:04:02.748-07:00Passionate about Passion ProjectsI have been teaching children about what it means to be creative and to follow their passions. I facilitate discovery, wonder, creation, imagining. It is amazing to me day after day after day that the children come into my room for a scant 45 minutes every four days and they practically burst through the door. When I started this journey in August I didn't know what it would turn into. I opened myself and my time with them to the wide open possibilities that they could come up with. I believe in childhood, and while I deeply respect the teaching of content, I find that the children are in desperate need for discovery. <br />
On any given day, the children might be building with legos, experimenting with paint, or wax and water (no joke), creating something from nothing. Tinker boxes in the creation station are full of materials that have absolutely nothing to do with each other, and yet the children put them together in a variety of ways to create something new. <br />
One little girl used a tissue box, a tape box, four toilet paper rolls, yarn, paper, ribbon, tape, a glue gun and a HUGE dose of imagination to create the cutest puppy! She worked on it for weeks, putting a "please do not touch" sign on it. She originally asked me for puffs for the dog's fur, but I didn't have any. I asked her if she could use yarn instead. She took the yarn, wrapped it around her fingers, tied it in the middle and trimmed the ends to make the fur. I watched her lovingly construct this little friend. When she was done, she shared it with the class and talked about her process. We all marveled at her ability to take all of the things she used to make something so cute and so special. <br />
Two fifth graders are building a life sized car out of cardboard right now. They showed me a picture and asked me if they could do it. I talked to them about how they were thinking about constructing it, made sure that they could get it home when they were done and cut a TON of cardboard for them. I am so proud of them for taking this on! They want to try to make it work and I say go for it! I can't wait until they are done and I will definitely add pictures to my blog. <br />
My point is not only to share my tales of amazing kids and the things they are doing, but to marinade in wonder myself. I have learned so much about kids and the things that they can do just from letting it happen. I'm wondering how this can impact their lives in school. They always tell me that they love Discovery and when I see them in the hall they share when they will be coming to me. So... why do they love it so much? It's not me. It's the opportunity. Two little girls stopped me in the hall and told me that they are discovering at home too. <br />
I have always wanted my students to love reading and writing as much as I do and I have always had some that do. I am going to continue to watch and guide and foster a love of exploring and while I do, I am going to be thinking about how I can help kids to love everything that they are doing as much as they love their 45 minutes in room 4. I wonder where that will lead and I look forward to it. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-8122614811222613522016-08-18T14:13:00.001-07:002016-08-18T14:13:50.492-07:00New Position Requires a New AttitudeHi everyone! <br />
I am in a brand new (freshly created) position in my school this year. I am teaching a 4th special called "Discovery". The idea behind this course is to help children to find what they are passionate about and to learn new things in a creative or innovative way. OR they can learn new things any way they can and share them in creative or innovative ways. Basically, I am creating this class as I teach it. <br />
So where did I begin? Well, that's quite easy... It all began with a yes. My principal came to me, along with our intervention teacher, and they asked me if I would be willing to change what I am doing and teach this 4th special. I had thought about it and said no to myself prior to this conversation, but I found myself saying yes when I was asked. Does this happen to anyone else??? <br />
I had no idea what this course would look like or sound like or even where it would happen (other than in the school building). I still said yes. <br />
I attended the Columbus Museum of Art creativity summit, which was lovely. At first very little was resonating with me as something I would do for my position, but then quietly, slowly, ideas started to percolate. It didn't matter how I did it as long as I have the kids the opportunity to wonder, investigate, build, create, etc. They need it more now than ever. I reread my notes from the week at the museum and so many quotes and notes from the experience began to make sense in the light of this new job. <br />
So what did I decide to do? I decided to begin. I didn't have to figure it all out before it started. I just needed to know how to begin. I decided to do the following: <br />
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<li>k-1 Makerspace focusing on STEAM. </li>
<li>2-3 Genius hour</li>
<li>4-5 Passion projects</li>
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I have been sharing some of these ideas with the kids in 2-5 and they are very excited! My k-1s are thrilled to be able to engage with science, technology, building, art and math. I sat with a little guy in kindergarten today who doesn't speak any English. He and I built several structures together, smiling and laughing and speaking to each other in our own languages. It was so touching to have that common work between us even though we have a language barrier. </div>
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I am really enjoying the work so far, but my attitude had to undergo a change... is still undergoing a change to be able to open up to the possibilities. At first, after 22 years of teaching academics, with a primary focus on literacy, I felt a bit benched. I didn't like that feeling at all. To be honest, I still struggle with it a bit. I see others giving the fall benchmark assessments and I am not giving them. I am not analyzing running records or looking for strengths and needs for the students in reading, writing and math. I am not on any of the committees that I was on for years. It's hard having academic value and then losing all of that. </div>
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I am trying to take this as an opportunity to stretch myself as an educator though. Obviously I needed this challenge if I put all of my worth into my abilities as a reading and writing teacher. </div>
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So, to adjust my attitude... I am going to see this as another room in my teaching house. It's the attic. I can still visit all of the other rooms, but my focus needs to be there. The kids need this. They need me to show them that what they care about matters and that they can independently continue to learn outside of the classroom walls. </div>
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I am also excited to involve the community. So many of the kids are talking about learning about things that I don't know how to do yet. I can learn, but I can also ask for help. I am excited to have that relationship with people in our community and hopefully make them aware of the value that they have to give. </div>
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It's all a big adventure and I don't know where it will go, but thank goodness I get to see. :) </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-68414622355822150242016-03-13T12:06:00.000-07:002016-03-13T12:06:18.982-07:00A Mind of her Own<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc6J-vLBr2d0nZgmPDgn6Ftg/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc6J-vLBr2d0nZgmPDgn6Ftg/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">My littlest one has had a mind of her own from the very beginning. My sister and I would laugh because we always said that she reminded us of our grandmother. One of the things my grandma always did when she didn't agree with you but she didn't want to say anything (which was rare), was to give a loud "Huh". You knew when you heard that, that she didn't really like what she was hearing. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I think A was about one the first time I heard the "Huh". She was climbing on something, as usual, and I told her that she wasn't really very safe and that she needed to get down when I heard it. Her little tiny fists went on her little tiny hips and she said it... "Huh". </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I didn't think I heard her right at first. In fact, I was sure I had imagined it. But then it happened again, time after time until I was absolutely sure that even though she had only seen my grandma once in her life when she was only days old, she was going to be just like her. :) </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-47770908472052388402016-03-12T18:59:00.000-08:002016-03-12T18:59:26.692-08:00The College Green<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DRRpahSHWc4/UxKRIDZOKQI/AAAAAAAAAtY/8w8VmmODi5k8GBoTreoD-P5UWQ_TwqbuQ/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DRRpahSHWc4/UxKRIDZOKQI/AAAAAAAAAtY/8w8VmmODi5k8GBoTreoD-P5UWQ_TwqbuQ/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Walking across the college green is magical</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">as things happen all around.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">If you walk with your head down </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">you can hear</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">talking and laughing</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">dogs barking</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">the soap box preacher</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">preaching</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">hell fire </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">damnation.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">If you look up</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">you can see kids playing</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">with an old hacky sack</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">laughing </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">smiling</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">jumping and</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">kicking.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Cute boys (and even some not so cute)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">walking with puppies</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">hoping</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">to catch the eye</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">of a pretty girl. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">People sitting</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">on the statues</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">reading, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">eating, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">listening to music</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">as if </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">no one else</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">is around. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The college green </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">is a living space</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">full of activity </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and possibilities. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-91024876130802923232016-03-11T14:43:00.001-08:002016-03-11T14:43:18.637-08:00My Little Exhibitionist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DRRpahSHWc4/UxKRIDZOKQI/AAAAAAAAAtY/8w8VmmODi5k8GBoTreoD-P5UWQ_TwqbuQ/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DRRpahSHWc4/UxKRIDZOKQI/AAAAAAAAAtY/8w8VmmODi5k8GBoTreoD-P5UWQ_TwqbuQ/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Every summer, my kids and I drive to Texas to visit my aunt. She lives alone there, with no family close by since my grandparents passed away and we just love to be with her. We don't do anything fancy. She has a pool in her backyard. We hang out at the house, cookout and swim. My kids all learned how to swim in that pool... and how to skinny dip. :) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We usually like to drive in two days. One summer, my husband was out of work and we didn't want to spend the money on a hotel so we decided we could make the 18 hour drive without stopping for the night. It. Was. Awful. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Things were going pretty well all the way to Arkansas. Then it started to get dark. Driving in the dark in Texas is not fun. Armadillos run across the road, snakes can be seen in the headlights and there are no street lights most of the way making it pitch black. Then my mom says she has a shortcut. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The last shortcut we took with my mom added 8 hours to our trip by taking us to Louisiana on our way home from Texas and then we went up the Natchez Trace which was beautiful, but had a speed limit of 45 to 55 mph instead of the 70 on the main road. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I was unsure of this shortcut but I was willing to try it since I was getting tired. Shortly after heading on this alternate route, a car on the side of the road started driving really fast to get on the freeway, throwing a rock in the middle of my windshield, making a very large mark. About an hour later my a/c went out. We are talking Texas in July people... It was so hot I wanted to stick my head out of the car like a dog. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The kids seemed ok, other than poor A who was in the way back who said that she was very hot. At one point, I looked in the rear view mirror and my jaw dropped. My littlest one, about 6 or 7 at the time, was in her car seat, reading a book, naked as a jay bird. She didn't wait for anyone to tell her how to cool off. She took care of it herself. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-8935713849579199932016-03-10T18:05:00.000-08:002016-03-10T18:05:11.545-08:00Let's Talk Handicap Bathrooms<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc6J-vLBr2d0nZgmPDgn6Ftg/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc6J-vLBr2d0nZgmPDgn6Ftg/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">This may seem like a strange post, but for the last month I have been using a scooter and let me tell you... There are some bathroom issues I will never forget. Don't be alarmed. I am NOT going to go into anything too personal. :) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So... the very first thing I want everyone to know is that there is usually only 1 handicap bathroom to the regular 4 or 5. This means that when you (not you literally of course) use that one, we have to wait until you are done, even if all the other bathrooms are empty. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Think about that now... Did you really have to go that badly that you have to make me wait on you? Hmmmm... I know I will never use a handicap bathroom again. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The next thing I want to mention is that the handles in the handicap bathroom are not always in the right place. When you need a handle close to the toilet and it is all the way across the giant stall... well... you probably know what I am thinking. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">There is no hovering over a public restroom when you are impaired. You have to sit down. There is no choice. So... if you sprinkle when you tinkle... be a sweetie and wipe the seatie. And then grab a clorox wipe and clean it thoroughly. Oh a girl can dream... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-61914263760386659872016-03-09T12:58:00.000-08:002016-03-09T12:58:25.174-08:00Bringing Home Baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Emma Marie was born in July of 1995. I had just finished my first year of teaching. I had been so excited to meet her that I just could barely stand it. I didn't know if she was a boy or a girl, so I wrote letters to "the baby". </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">After I had Emma, I remember being very careful with her. I looked at her in awe, not quite believing that she was mine. I had been waiting for this moment since I was five and declared to my mother that when I grew up, I was going to be a mommy. :) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The morning that we were to go home I felt great. I was young and in great shape, so I was already beginning to recover from the birth. We had the car seat and everything we would need for the ride home. We lived two hours away, so I was a little nervous, but I knew we would be ok. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When my husband drove up to pick us up, I insisted that I would sit in the back seat with her. I needed to see her the whole way. We talked and chatted for awhile, catching up since I had been closer to the hospital, staying with my mom for five long weeks before Emma's birthday. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Suddenly, it all hit me at once. I began to cry. When my husband looked in the rear view mirror, I started sobbing. He asked me what was wrong, genuine concern on his face and I said, "I just can't believe that they let us put this sweet girl in our car and take her two hours away!" </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My husband and I still chuckle over that today. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-34437021968198013472016-03-08T12:56:00.000-08:002016-03-08T12:56:00.709-08:00Lies, all lies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">My mom tells lies. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She tells lots of lies. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Eat your (mushy, canned)peas.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">They're good for you."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"If you eat all your dinner</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">you'll be in the clean plate club."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh I'm in the clean plate club...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I think I might be president. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"If you make faces at your momma, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">it might get stuck like that." </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My mom tells lies. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She tells lots of lies. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"You go to sleep now.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">If you don't, the Sandman might come up</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and getchya."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I lay there...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">eyes tight...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">listening to my own heartbeat </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">on the pillow</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">thinking</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">that it's the... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Sandman!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My mom tells lies. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She tells lots of lies. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"If you see a man in his underwear, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">you'll get a nasty sty." </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She wasn't countin on me</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">accidentally seeing my friend's dad</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">in his underwear</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">when he opened the door</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">to get the paper. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She got lucky though.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The next morning</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">my eye was swollen shut.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My mom tells lies.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She tells lots of lies. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Some are to get me to </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">eat</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">sleep</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">pray</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">stay out of trouble</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and be safe.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Now I'm a momma </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and oh by, do I lie.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-55444742901389597282016-03-07T17:18:00.001-08:002016-03-07T17:18:57.965-08:00The Dare<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I met Sarah because our mothers were best friends. Well, Caroline was actually her step mother, so my mom and her step mom were best friends. Sarah was adopted by her dad and her mom. She and all three of her siblings were adopted together. I'm not sure what happened to make a mom lose all four of her children, but they were all blessed to have Caroline and Chuck. They were very good people. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We spent every sing Christmas Eve with them. It was so much fun. We would rotate who would host between three families, but so many more families were invited. I still miss that about Christmas Eve now that we are all grown and gone. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Our families were very close. We saw them all the time and we got into some shenanigans when we were together. I remember one time when Sarah and I were sitting in the way back (nope, not safe) of my mom's datson station wagon. Air Supply was on the 8 track and Sarah and I sang our little hearts out, dreaming of who would sweep us off of our feet. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I knew Sarah and her family so well that we knew each other's out of town grandparents. We were close. I loved her grandparents and she loved mine. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">When her grandfather died, I cried and cried. I had never lost anyone before. I was worried about Sarah and how she was feeling. The strange thing to me about funerals when I was young was that people were usually not crying anymore at the viewing. They welcomed people from all over and said nice things about the person, but they weren't crying. I had always imagined that they would be beside themselves with grief. They may have been, but the crying had been done and I didn't know. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Sara greeted me at the door. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"I'm so glad you are here! I am so bored!" </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"I am sorry about your grandpa." </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"Thank you," Sarah answered with a hug. "Do you want to touch him?" </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"Ummmmm... I don't think so," I told her with fear in my heart. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"Come one. You loved him too and my mom kissed him," Sarah informed me. She followed up with, "I dare you."</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"Ok, I will, but I am not kissing him," I answered, unsure of what I had just agreed to. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"Come on. I'll take you up and then you can touch him." </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Sarah and I walked up to the open casket slowly. I felt an overwhelming sadness when I saw him there and suddenly I <i>wanted </i>to reach out and touch his hand, the hand I had held on so many occasions. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I said a prayer for him. Feeling very somber (and a little scared), I reached for his hand. Just when I was about to touch him, the medal around his necked moved! I stifled a scream and ran from the room. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Sarah followed me with tears running down her cheeks. She was NOT sad. She was laughing. </span></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-14463804905764800982016-03-05T15:39:00.001-08:002016-03-05T15:39:44.643-08:00The Old Wooden Sled and a Little Girl<span style="font-size: large;">People usually describe me as outgoing, but I remember many times when I craved and enjoyed the quiet of time alone. When I was little, my mom would let me go sledding any time I wanted to, whether it was dark or not. She knew I loved it so much and times were different then... </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I could hear the sound</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">of the old wooden sled</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">as it slid over the cold, cold snow.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The sky was dark </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">and full of stars </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">and the biggest moon</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">you've ever seen.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I stopped</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">at the top of the hill</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">and stood silently</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">listening and looking</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">at the falling snow.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">When it was that quiet</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">you could hear the snow</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">hit the ground. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The sled creaked</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">under my weight</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">clicked</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">as my feet settled in</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">ready for the ride</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">down the hill.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Woooooooosh</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">it cut through the snow</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Shhhhhhhhhhh</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">it steered around the corner</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">bumpity bumpity bumpity bump</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">it flew over the uneven ground</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">the old wooden sled.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-56480545252997211812016-03-04T19:09:00.002-08:002016-03-04T19:09:34.010-08:00Wow...Just wow...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">A year ago I was working very hard to convince my youngest that she could get out of her bed, put her clothes on, brush her teeth and hair and go to school. She has struggled with anxiety for most of her life, but it was bad. It would start the night before and then it would rear its ugly head as soon as she woke up. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The belly aches and the worrying about throwing up... The "I can't do it" to the "Please don't put me through this again mom". She would beg me to help her, to make her... "normal". </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I didn't hesitate to seek medical help for her. I called the doctor and told him that she needed anti anxiety meds stat. He has known me for a long time, so he always takes what I say with a grain of salt. After examining her and listening to her fears, he did give us a referral. She started treatment right away. She still does, but I've noticed a change other than what the therapy has done for her. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She is finding herself. She is able to get her head above water just long enough to breathe and to look around. She loves to sing so she sings. She loves to act so she acts. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Tonight though... Tonight was something every parent with a child with anxiety should get to experience. Tonight she left me in awe. My baby girl was JoJo in Seussical the Musical and up there on that stage, she belted out her songs with confidence and she shined. Oh how she shined. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She overcame a big hurtle to do what she loves. I am so very proud of her. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Enjoy...</span><br />
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/xrq6vRoRmtY/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xrq6vRoRmtY?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-23570046381246879152016-03-03T17:10:00.001-08:002016-03-03T17:10:31.140-08:00Our Very Own Terabithia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Coming out of my stupor from the beauty before me, I just knew I had to get to the mystical land below. There was only one problem. The drop from the mouth of the tunnel was long and jagged. Years of debris had become snarled in the chicken wire that had once hung over the mouth of the tunnel to keep people out of this place. Moss had grown on the edge, making it slippery. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"We can't go down there," Tracy warned, sure that we would fall to our deaths. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>We were all a little afraid that our parent's warnings, although dramatic, could come true. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"I don't know about you two, but I am going to go down there!" I announced, as if my life depended on it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We eased our way over to the corner of the tunnel, hoping to reach our now soaked feet over to the edge of the hill, grabbing earth with our toes and flinging ourselves onto land. Amy held onto Tracy and Tracy held onto me. The stakes were high but the excitement... higher. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"I'm almost there..." I strained to say through my teeth as my foot cramped in pain. "I think if you can just stretch a lit-"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Oh my gosh, I'm slipping!!!!" Amy yelled, echoing through the tunnel. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We tumbled down the iron and steel jungle, landing in the water at the bottom. We all took a minute to see if anyone was seriously injured, feeling our arms, legs and heads. Luckily we were only scratched up. We may have had tetinus shots in our futures but we didn't care. We were in a real live Terabithia! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tired and banged up, we dragged ourselves out of the water, laying on the bank for a minute to catch our breath. I was the first to notice the trees with the low hanging branches on the edge of a beautiful meadow. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Let's climb the trees! I wonder if they have fruit! We can make a tree house!" Words tumbled out of me as if they couldn't wait their turn. I ran, grabbing a branch and swinging my already torn up legs over the branch. Amy and Tracy followed and the three of us hooted and hollered, stepping from branch to branch. We were monkeys. We were spies, looking down on unsuspecting people we imagined down below. We were Tarzan and Jane. We were snakes, laying on the branches, waiting for a large animal to amble by. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When we got tired of the tree, we followed the creek a little while until we came to a bridge. It wasn't a large bridge like the one we played under by the pool. This one looked like someone made it from scrap lumber. There was a picnic table in the clearing. It looked like the trees parted just enough for light to filter through to that table. The girls and I were starting to get hungry and the sight of that table just made our bellies growl. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We decided to eat a fake meal with our favorite British accents (like we did at home when we had tea parties). I was serving Amy and Tracy when we heard a voice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"You thought you seen em come through here?" a deep, husky voice was asking. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Amy, Tracy and I froze only for a minute until we dove under the table. We heard the footsteps getting closer when... "Probably just more teenagers getting into some shenanigans over here where no one can see them." </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I could hardly breathe, I was so afraid of getting caught. I motioned to the girls that we needed to get out of there and dove toward the creek. I laid down in the water and my friends did too. We were so still in the water that you couldn't hear us at all. When the men got too close, we slowly went under the water and waited until we couldn't see their swirly forms just over the bank. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As soon as the coast was clear, we ran back along the bank, climbed the hill and threw ourselves back into the tunnel. Our cautious entry into the tunnel forgotten, we ran as fast as we could... along the fence, into the entrance and under the water. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We all came up at the same time, laughed and exchanged a knowing smile. We had just had another amazing adventure and we couldn't wait to go back. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-83814399080268843742016-03-02T17:43:00.000-08:002016-03-02T17:43:56.230-08:00The Other Side<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s1600/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Azy_ZEDQDqA/UxKQzcW1pqI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WGX63iQ-yqc/s200/slice%2Bof%2Blife%2Bpicture.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tracy, Amy and I were skipping down the hill that led us away from our neighborhood, over the creek and to the community pool. We loved spending our days at the pool and never got tired of it. I started my day at the pool with swim team practice from 7 to 9. Then I'd head home for some food and then back to the pool with my friends. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We always laid our towels out in the same place, by the deep end. We always played blind tag in the corner or shark across the deep end. We didn't really ever have to discuss what we were doing and we were never bored. Time really seemed to move quickly when we were hanging out at the pool. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Most of the time, during rest period, we would snack on things we brought from home or just lay on our towels and talk. One day though... I'm not sure what got into us, but we decided that we were going through the infamous tunnel to see what was on the other side...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Come on Tracy," I said temptingly,"I know you want to find out what is over there. I do too. I would pay to find out what is over there." </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"My mom will kill me if she knows I went through that tunnel, let alone over to the other side," Amy said, unsure. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Our moms never need to know," I coaxed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We walked out of the safety of the fence surrounding the pool toward the tunnel. The grass was tall so it grabbed at our legs, as if slowing us down enough to make us change our minds. I just jumped through to the edge of the creek. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With a no looking back attitude, I ran into the tunnel, all the way until the concrete met the water. I looked on the walls and saw the dark thoughts of the local teenagers, along with warnings to go no further. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hesitated only for a second. I didn't want to chicken out as I had many times before. Slowly, I put my foot down in the water, hearing my mother's warnings in my mind. Nope... no hole... I went on. I could hear Amy and Tracy breathing behind me. We didn't say a word, so that our echos were silent, not giving us away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When we were almost to the other side, I could see the light filtering into the tunnel. It was very green out there. I could see little flowers growing on everything, along with the brightest moss I had ever seen. All I could think of was...fairies. It was like when Dorothy walks out of her black and white world into the world of Oz. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Amy, Tracy and I stood there, side by side, looking out at this unexplored world before us. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-57224020297506066882016-03-01T12:54:00.000-08:002016-03-01T12:54:14.106-08:00The Tunnel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><br /></i>
<i>Every day in the summer was another opportunity for adventure. My mom and dad worked, leaving my brother, sister and I to fend for ourselves. We didn't mind though. My oldest sister was "watching us", so technically we weren't alone. Lucky for me, my sister loved to read and did a lot of it all summer long. </i><br />
<i>I was not a reader. I was a do-er. I loved the outdoors no matter what the weather. I would get up in the morning, throw some water on my unruly hair (sometimes), grab a poptart and run out the door. I imagine myself kicking my heels together and yelling "yeeeeehaw!"</i><br />
<i>I loved to play in the creek not too far from our house. I could spend hours down there and to this day, I have the layout of the entire area burned into my brain. If you told me to name the best place on the earth quickly without thinking, I would definitely say the creek! At the end of the creek, there was a tunnel. I didn't know where the tunnel went, but I was very curious about it. I could see the beginnings of words I was never allowed to say spray painted on the walls. I could see the slick, moss covered bottom as it led to the unknown. My mom, knowing I was afraid of very little but well aware of my Catholic, fear of the devil upbringing, told me that there were holes in the tunnel and that if I fell into a hole, I could drop all the way to hell and then there was no way out. I thought about that... a lot. </i><br />
<i>I am going to try to write a narrative story with dialogue about the day that I went into the tunnel. </i><br />
<br />
"Sandie!!!" I yelled, "I am going outside!" <br />
I was always very vague when I told people where I was going, not to <i>be</i> vague, but because I never knew where I would end up. Today I knew where I was headed. The. Tunnel. I had been warned about the tunnel... never to go in there so I didn't end up someplace where I didn't want to be. My mom even tried to scare me about the tunnel. It worked for a while, but not today! <br />
I ran out of the house, slamming the door in my wake. I jumped off the porch and onto my bike, hesitating only a minute remembering when the neighbor rode it without clothes. EW. <br />
I loved to pedal as fast as I could and then, really close to the curb, slamming on my brakes so that I would skid to the side in the gravel. I did that over and over again all the way to my friend Jen's house. She lived in the south end of my neighborhood. We had met on the school bus and had become fast friends. <br />
Jen was more daring than I was. I loved adventure, but there was always my mom's voice in the back of my head, with a doom and gloom story to warn me off of what I was about to do. Jen didn't seem to have that voice in her head, and she made mine quieter. <br />
We had decided to go into the tunnel after weeks and weeks of standing on the edge, looking in at all the graffiti and wondering what the teenagers always did in there. Well, today was the day! <br />
"I think we should hold hands," Jen said as she gazed into the dark abyss that was the tunnel. <br />
"I think that's a great idea! Then if one of us falls in, the other one can pull them out," I said.<br />
Jen looked at me quizzically, but I didn't want to explain what my mother had said so I quickly followed up with, "in a puddle". She smiled and nodded. <br />
Jen stepped in, walking the narrow concrete balance beam that ran down the middle most of the way. We could hear the water dripping through the tiny cracks in the tunnel. One dropped down the back of my shirt and right away I thought it was the lifeless claws of someone from the underworld. I stepped a little closer to Jen. <br />
As the concrete narrowed and disappeared, we found ourselves in the middle of the tunnel. It was cold and dark and I could hear our breathing. <br />
"What's on the other side?" I wondered. <br />
"I think it's a land of fairies," Jen answered. She started to move forward into the water when I grabbed her arm. <br />
"Are you sure we should go into the water? My mom..." I started. <br />
"Why are you worrying about your mom?" Jen demanded, "She is at work!" <br />
I tried to explain to Jen that my mom had warned me about the portals to hell under the puddles in the tunnel but she stopped me, telling me that I was crazy. <br />
Still, she paused and flipped her long bangs. <br />
"I don't believe your mom, but still... let's just go back for today," Jen said a little breathlessly.<br />
She turned around and headed out of the tunnel. <br />
I followed feeling... relieved. <br />
We would save the tunnel for another day. <br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-39802359898879440082015-02-09T14:58:00.000-08:002016-02-28T11:49:07.224-08:00Just be authentic... I am really starting to feel like an old timer in the field of education. I am a Reading Recovery trained, Literacy Collaborative Coordinator trained teacher and I hold fast to the things that I believe to be true. I see so many cutesy things in education today, (mostly covered in some form of chevron) and I am beginning to question their value. I have nothing against chevron. I am actually a fan. If you decorate the words of Marie Clay in your chevron, I will be the first one to say how wonderful it is. :) <br />
The thing that is really worrying me in education is that I think that we are missing the point sometimes in our effort to make things cute and pinterest worthy. Marie Clay studied children who could read well and the behaviors that they had under control as readers so that she could begin to understand what was missing for our neediest readers. She knew that they needed something different than the children who were already reading. She was actually quite brilliant. It makes sense. If you are making a cake and it falls every time you try, then you are going to look to someone who makes that perfect cake every time and wonder what they are doing that you are not. You will take the time to notice and shift what you are doing in order to bake a cake.<br />
In a sense, that's what Marie did. She took copious notes on what readers did and she began to think about how she could teach the children who were not doing those things to begin to do them. Out of this work, teachers got a wonderful way to teach that is research based and very effective when done well. Marie's model of teaching was to teach/model/demonstrate, then prompt, praise and expect. She taught us to look at running records to know exactly what the children need and then she gave us plain language, that everyone can understand for prompting at various levels of support. <br />
When we are working with children, we need to remember that no matter how tempted we are for the cute and catchy, plain language is something that everyone can understand. Picture Claire, a 6 year old first grader who is learning to read a slower rate than her peers. Claire and her family moved in the middle of the year. Claire had been working with a teacher who told her that readers think about the letters in the words and the meaning of the story when they are trying to figure out tricky words in books. Now imagine sweet little Claire in her new school. In her new school, the children are told that when they don't know a word, they need to tryin lion or fish lips. Poor Claire. It's like they are speaking a different language. Now, should Claire have to learn the fabricated cute language? No. Claire only needs to know what readers do. When I ask that question of children, I want them to tell me what real readers do. They don't tryin lion or fish lip. They do think about what would make sense and start like the word on the page. They do look through the whole word to check to see if they are right. <br />
Be careful out there teachers. Make sure that what you are doing with your students is authentic. Remember, if it's authentic, who cares if it's covered in chevron. <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-91368707853856997182014-10-14T18:47:00.000-07:002014-10-14T18:47:04.932-07:00Puppies!!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2uHuDLVF3yA/VD3OE6fBx3I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/yN5HFIgdcR8/s1600/puppies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2uHuDLVF3yA/VD3OE6fBx3I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/yN5HFIgdcR8/s1600/puppies.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
This sweet little pile of goodness brings me so much joy!!! I could watch them for hours. They don't do much right now, but they are so innocently sweet. They are only 4 days old and they are very similar to newborn babies. They eat, sleep and snuggle. Just like when my children were wee little, I am in awe of them. It is amazing that they would grow and develop into these diverse little darlings. I can't wait until they open their eyes and start playing!!! <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dYK91ggn2dg/VD3OlUXyOyI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/er3keZ5Wsac/s1600/Holly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dYK91ggn2dg/VD3OlUXyOyI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/er3keZ5Wsac/s1600/Holly.jpg" height="320" width="310" /></a></div>
We didn't plan on the puppies. This is Holly. She is a foster dog that I care for and love until she is adopted by a loving family. She was pulled from a kill shelter on the day that she was going to be euthanized. I am so grateful that Danielle from Dash Animal Rescue saved her! She is such a sweet little girl. She is only a puppy herself at only 9 months old. <br />
When she first came to stay with us, she was a very sick little girl. She had Kennel Cough and couldn't hold anything down. She didn't have an appetite and slept all the time. Little did we know that she was experiencing morning sickness while sick with kennel cough.<br />
After a few weeks we noticed that she was gaining weight and we thought it was because she was getting better. When she started to change in ways that only a pregnant dog could I took her to the vet. Dr. Kelleher performed an ultrasound and we learned that she was pregnant with at least three! This was not good news since she was only a puppy and since there are so many dogs and puppies without a home to call their own. I couldn't help it though... I was excited! :) <br />
Since we didn't know when she became pregnant we really didn't know when she would deliver. We read up online and learned that she was at least 45 days along since we saw the spines on the ultrasound and dog gestation is 63 days. She would have her puppies within a 20 day period. <br />
I started to read all about dogs giving birth and how to help. I learned that sometimes mommy dogs don't get their puppies out in time and they die from suffocation. I hoped and prayed that she would deliver when I was awake and home from work. <br />
Well... prayers aren't always answered and the night before she was going to see the vet, Holly woke us all up with loud yelps! I ran into my son's room and there was a puppy on the floor still in the sack and the second puppy was already being born. I knew what to do! With only a slight hesitation, I grabbed the sack and ripped it open. I didn't think that I had made it in time as the puppy lay lifeless in my arms, but then she took a BIG breath and started to move. Whew! <br />
Holly continued to deliver puppy after puppy after puppy... She had SEVEN in all!!!! I know that dogs sometimes have bigger litters, but Holly is only 11 pounds herself! One of the puppies was stillborn, which was so so sad. I know that Holly did her very best and that is what is important. <br />
I have to laugh at myself because I worry about those puppies just like I did my own children. Are they warm enough? Are they eating enough? Are they sleeping enough or too much? It is so joyful and so unnerving all at the same time. :) Only one of the puppies has a name and that is Mac. He has the name Mac because he is half the size of his brothers and sisters so I call him that because he is the absolute opposite of being the size of a Mack Truck. LOL <br />
I look so forward to the coming weeks and all of the changes that the puppies will go through! I am going to try to post a video when they start running around. They will be SO cute! <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-59644449951519217942014-03-31T18:06:00.000-07:002014-03-31T18:06:24.498-07:00What has slicing taught me? I am sure that I will forget something, but I am going to use my slice today to attempt to list many of the great advantages of slicing (and some of my new learning too!). <br />
1. Audience - I love to write with and for other people, but rarely write when it's just for me. It is ESSENTIAL that my students have an audience for their writing. <br />
2. Feedback is a must! After writing my post for the day, I would check my inbox to see if anyone had commented on my post. It is so exciting to get feedback from others when you are writing. <br />
3. Feedback does not always elicit revision. Sometimes feedback is just feedback. You can revise after receiving feedback, but sometimes you just want to enjoy it. <br />
4. Don't be too intense about making sure that everyone has walked away with a specific thing each day. I worry about what the take away is with my students and I am pretty hard on myself. I think that for awhile anyway, kids need to write to build community, develop an atmosphere of sharing and giving feedback. They really need to be comfortable and if I am sitting next to them asking them what they learned about writing that day (or sometimes telling them), it can suck the joy out of writing. <br />
5. You can use any container for any topic. I learned this when I was in the writing project, but really noticed the truth of this statement as I was writing. <br />
6. Writing is fun! It doesn't have to be laborious. <br />
7. Ralph Fletcher was right all those years ago when he said to write what matters. Those topics tend to flow. <br />
8. I CAN write for 31 days in a row!!!! I LOVE TO SLICE!!! :) Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-12481398511807536982014-03-30T13:38:00.001-07:002014-03-30T13:50:07.531-07:00World Bipolar Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If you didn't know, today is world bipolar day. It is a day for people with bipolar disorder to tell others about their disorder and their success with that disorder. If you didn't read my earlier post about my son Connor, you would not know that my son has bipolar disorder. I initially thought about writing a post to Connor, in letter format, as I have seen other slicers do. Then I thought more about it. Bipolar disorder has not just effected Connor. It has effected each of the members of our family in different ways. So here's to my family and their amazing love for each other... <br />
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To Tim (my husband) - I am sorry that Connor has been "sick" for much of his life as I know that neither one of us would choose that for him. Thank you for loving him anyway. Thank you for sticking around because I am sure that there have been times when you wanted to run for the boarder! :) This journey would have been so much harder without you by my side. Thank you! I love you!<br />
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To Emma - You have been an amazing big sister to Connor! You have always been there for him. I remember you trying to calm him down so many times and sometimes you were the only one who could. I wanted to protect you from the bad times, but you wouldn't let me. You jumped right in and loved your brother no matter what! I truly believe that God gave you a gift that I have seen in very few others that helps you to be there. You talk him down. You give him a reason to live. You never give up. :) You have also been there for your baby sister. She was so scared of Connor's behavior sometimes and you helped to get her out of harms way and you distracted her when she was worried or afraid. I am so sorry that you had to deal with some of the things that you have. I wouldn't wish the hard times on anyone and I wish I could have made them better for you. I love you very much. You are strong and brave and you have a HUGE loving heart. Thank you for sharing that with your family. <br />
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To Connor - I am so sorry that your life is not easy, that you have been so sick that you didn't even want to live anymore. I am very proud of you for sticking it out. I know that you have been in some places that I never could have imagined sending you and for that I am sorry. Your comfort sometimes had to come second to your survival. We have been in some scary places together, but at the end of the day you were always willing to do what you needed to do to get better. I am so grateful for that! Don't every stop taking your meds. You need them to survive. It is more than just mood swings for you sweetheart. If you are not on your meds, you are not yourself and it almost always ends in a hospital stay. You need to remember that bipolar disorder to you is what diabetes is to me. We have to take our medicine to stay healthy. You are NOT bipolar disorder. You HAVE bipolar disorder. You can do whatever you want as long as you take care of yourself. I love you! <br />
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To Abbie - You were so scared when you were little. I am so sorry that you were. You have so many people who love you. Remember how Mrs. Roberts used to take you to her office at school and just let you play and talk? She did that because she cares about you. Mrs. Clark offered to take you home for me when Connor was in the hopital. All I had to do was call and she would be there to help us out. Emma has always tried to protect you from the worst times. She loves you so much. Connor has worked hard to handle his anger in positive ways so that you are not scared anymore. He loves you too. I am so proud of you for going to counseling with me and talking about your anxiety. You are a very brave and smart little girl and I love you so much! <br />
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I am so thankful to all of my family for their support and their love over the years. I am thankful for the custodian at Memorial Middle School who saw Connor's teacher and I wrestling Connor in the parking lot trying to get him into school. He handed me a business card and said, "Call this number. They saved my son's life". I called and it really did make a difference for Connor. That's how we met Amber, the best counselor in the world! She helped me get Connor where he needed to be to get well. That's where we met Sandy, another wonderful counselor. Connor's teachers have been amazingly supportive! They have accomodated him where he needed it and they have also played hardball when Connor tried to weasel out of work he needed to do (ie going to school). I really can't forget Adelle. She works at OSU Psychiatric Hospital. She was an amazing advocate for Connor and his needs. <br />
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I hope you are reading this and you are thinking about the HUGE impact that mental illness can have on a family. We usually pull our family in and don't go anywhere when things are not well, but that doesn't mean that we don't need your love and support. A phone call or a card can make a really big difference. Connor and I made a video when he was 11. We encountered some very ignorant people who were afraid of mental illness. I am attaching the video below. It contains a message for everyone. Please BE there for people whether it is directly or indirectly...<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7397755700982317970.post-79212072840493799662014-03-29T18:09:00.001-07:002014-03-29T18:09:49.379-07:0022<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I don't go out very often. I usually get everything I need to get done and then shower and watch my recorded shows in the evening. Last night, however, my friend Michelle asked me to go out and I thought, what the heck? I haven't been out in forever and it really sounds like fun! We went to a place called the Bluestone which ironically, used to be a Baptist Church. We didn't know what to expect, but quickly found out that there was a country concert there. Exciting! <br />
We went in and ordered our first drinks (one of two for me since I was driving) and walked around to check things out. The first musician was getting started and so we went onto the dance floor and danced around to the music. Pretty soon, we were talking to the people around us and dancing in a group. It was SO MUCH FUN! :) I felt like I was 22 and danced like I was 22 (nothing like the girls in the video - I was NEVER that cool). I raised my glass and hooted and hollered like I was 22. <br />
I'm not saying that I am going to do this very often, but for right now, I have to tell you how important it is for all of us to make sure that our lives are balanced with work and fun. Don't spend your life at home. Get out and explore! It will seriously be good for your spirit! :) <br />
So as not to mislead you, I will tell you that if you are in your 40's and you haven't danced in a REALLY long time, you will NOT feel like you are 22 when you get out of bed the next morning! LOL Thank goodness I had a scheduled massage today! :) <br />
I leave you with the song that inspired my title... Enjoy and Happy Dancing!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3