The Bathroom

Feel like sharing a poem inspired by drawing a map of my house...

The bathroom is

A crowded place.

There’s only one…

You step inside

For a private moment

Only to find it

otherwise occupied.

Emma is fixing her hair.

Abbie is brushing her teeth.

Connor is taking a shower.

No privacy here.

There is a dance

That has become

A part of life

In the bathroom

“I have to go”

Turn around

Face the wall

She has to go

She needs

Privacy

The bathroom is

A meeting place

“How was your day?”

“Did you pass your math test?”

“What’s new with you?”

Catching up.

I often think

That I would like

Another bathroom

Then I see

Three beautiful babies

Smiling at me

Through the frames

On the wall

This reminds me

That some day

I will be alone

In the bathroom

With all the privacy

In the world

Welcome chaos!

Welcome noise!

Welcome

To my bathroom.

How Do I Write?

I recently saw a post asking others how they write, where they get their ideas and inspiration.  I have been thinking a lot about that and I have to say that I stand on the shoulders of other authors.  I have been very blessed to have been a literacy coordinator with the Literacy Collaborative from The Ohio State University.  I had excellent training, but still did not really know how to be a writer.  To tell you the truth, it took me several times to really buy in to the whole teacher writer belief.  I am a firm believer now!  :)  I didn't become a firm believer until I tried it.  I actually wrote and when I did, it's like my lesson plan pen had a mind of it's own.  I no longer had to labor over what to teach next.  I got it!  Writing is a process and when you know the process, you can see so much more clearly what your little writers need, whether they are in kindergarten, or college.
So, how do I write?  During my time as a lit coordinator, I had the GREAT pleasure of meeting and learning from and watching Georgia Heard, Katie Wood Ray, Ralph Fletcher, Lester Laminack, Carl Anderson and Tom Romano.  Each time I had an opportunity, a little seed was planted.  Write...  Write...  Write...  Each time I learned another trick about how to plan your writing.  I learned that everything my teachers taught me wasn't true, with the exception of the conventions and there is freedom even there when you write.
Ralph Fletcher taught me to write what matters.  That got me about three and a half stories (of course about my children and my family).  :)  Then he showed a child how to draw a sketch of the people in his life, the places he had been and the things that he does.  I have done this, and I can get hundreds of stories just from the map I made of my neighborhood.
 Katie Wood Ray emphasized the writer's notebook.  I started one...  then put it in a drawer...  then pulled it out...  I go back to that notebook now and harvest ideas from long ago.
 Lester Laminack is gifted at sharing stories from his own life.  I love listening to him read his books.  I love his craft.  I use his craft in my own writing.
Georgia Heard has to be my all time favorite.  For a long time, I wrote poetry.  I loved her ideas about looking out the window and really looking.  Thinking about things in a different way.
I have also read a TON of professional books.  I am actually a bit of a book hoarder to tell you the truth.  I love to read books by the authors I mentioned above.  I will read anything from the Teachers College at Columbia.  I loooooove Lucy Calkins and Shelley Harwayne!  I have heard both speak and they are so different and yet so very passionate.
My favorite go to methods are without a doubt, sketching people I know.  You can list them if you want to, but the picture does so much more for me.  I write in my head for a long time before I actually get anything down on paper.  My go to place for great thinking is in the shower.  I don't know what it is... the white noise or the quiet... or maybe the lack of interruptions on a good day or early in the morning.
I don't think I will ever stop using the methods that I have been taught.  I almost freeze with the question, "What are you going to write about?".  I have to slow down, relax, breathe...  Then I sketch out my thinking and off I go!  I don't like to revise.  I don't really like having others revise my work either, although I do it because I know that I want children I teach to be open to the input of their audience.  It's waaaaay harder than I thought though!
When I was in he writing project, I had to meet with one of the teachers to go over my piece and to receive feedback.  The whole time she was talking I felt a little oppositional.  I didn't want to change anything.  I had worked so hard....  I did try some different things that she suggested and I left others alone.  It was much better after working with her and I am forever grateful for her gentle touch.  :)
The point is... just write.  It doesn't matter if it's good enough, long enough or entertaining enough.  Each piece allows you to improve.  Each time you write, you think about different perspectives, crafting moves and you become more bold.
I wish you the opportunity for both joy and angst as you write, so that you can really feel what it is like to compose something that is meaningful to you and that it makes you want to share!  :)  Happy writing everyone!  You are NOT alone!  :)

Fostering

I just had the very fun, wonderful and blessed experience of being a foster mom to two puppies.  I only meant to foster one, but when I saw the two little sisters who had been rescued from a kill shelter, I just couldn't separate them.  I brought them both home.
I didn't know what to expect as a foster mom, but I will tell you that it has been an unexpected blessing!  I thought that I was doing something for them when really we were helping each other.  They brought me joy, laughter and fun!  :)
Here they are:

Megan and Daisy have a forever home now!  They leave tomorrow.  I can't believe how quickly they were adopted!  I have to say that I give so much credit to social networking when it comes to finding a home for these foster puppies.  I shared their pictures and my friends shared and their friends shared...  

They go "home" tomorrow.  I couldn't be happier for them!  They are being adopted by a young couple.  They really seem like great "kids"!  :)  

I am leaving this post feeling so much love for the puppies, for the animal rescue who saved their lives, and for their new family!  :)  

Dumb Debbie

My sister and I shared most of our toys when we were little.  There were some toys that did not officially belong to either my sister or me, but we did claim some of them.  My sister decided to take a doll I firmly believed belonged to me to school.  She wrote the letters SS on the doll.  When I saw this, I was really infuriated.  I screamed, I cried and then I scrubbed the doll until you could barely see the SS.  Then...  I took the biggest, fattest, darkest marker I could find and I wrote DD.  My sister saw those two bold letters and she laughed and laughed (still laughing to this day).  I didn't understand initials yet, so I thought my sister had written SS for Sandie Sandie.  Well, that's how I got the nickname Dumb Debbie.  :)

Maybe a little later...

I grew up hearing stories about my mom and her cousins.  I LOVED story time!  :)  One of my favorite stories involves my mom, her sister Millie, their cousins Marion Marie and Baby Al. 
My mom and her sister and her cousins were often up to "no good'.  They didn't have video games or tv to entertain them so they entertained themselves.  One day, they decided to sneak my grandma's cigarettes out of her purse and have a try themselves.  They walked up and over a hill so that they wouldn't be seen (or smelled) by their mothers.  When they had smoked all of the cigarettes, they sent Baby Al to get some more.  Al promptly walked up over the hill and into the house to tell his mother (my great aunt) and my grandma (Aunt Titter) that the girls were out of cigarettes and that they would like some more.  The grown ups ran to where the girls were and dragged them home, made them sit at the table and smoke cigarette after cigarette until they felt ill.  The funniest part is that my mom and Marion Marie both declined when asked if they would like another, but my Auntie Millie said, "Not just now, but maybe a little later." 

Mom's Stories

I don't know if we just didn't listen to our mom or what, but she would often resort to telling us stories to get us to behave.  There are many, but I am just going to share a few right now...  to whet your appetite.  :)
The Casey Brown Story:  
My brother, sister and I often played outside as children.  On any given day, you could see us on a big wheel, roller skates, skateboards, plastic stilts, bicycles, you name it!  :)  My mom did not care what we played on, but she REALLY cared that we were wearing shoes while we were doing it.  She insisted.  Welllll...  sometimes I didn't listen very well and would run out of the house in my bare feet.  In fact, I usually had bare feet as a child.  I hated shoes.  My mom would find me wherever I was a bring me home to put shoes on.  Flip flops did not count.  Boo!
One day, my mom sat me down and told me the Casey Brown story.  She told me that a little boy who lived in the neighborhood (really) had been on his big wheel without shoes on.  She said that he was riding down the big hill by the pool when he lost control.  He tried to pull the break and it didn't work so he put his bare feet down to slow down.  Casey lost all of the skin on his feet and had to have bandages for a very long time.  He couldn't play outside and he couldn't ride his big wheel.
I don't know if this story was true or not, but I can tell you that I most certainly did not ride my bike, big wheel or anything else barefoot!  
The Sandman:
I am going to admit right up front that I was not a sleeper.  I never slept as a baby, a toddler or a young child.  I believe that my mom told this out of sheer desperation to get me to sleep so don't judge too harshly.  :)
My mom tucked me into bed every night.  It was a very special time because it was usually the only time that I had time alone with her.  I can't remember if she read to me or not, but we would often talk about our day and she would answer the ten million questions that I had generated that particular day.  :)  I remember one night when she was tucking me in, she said, "Now you go to sleep or the sandman will get you."  I promptly told her that that was NOT true.  She told me that if I put my head on my pillow I could hear his footsteps coming down the hall.  Of course I put my head on my pillow, and sure enough, there was the rhythmic sound of the Sandman's footsteps.  I was terrified!  I pulled my blankets up around me ears, pulled my legs up (lest he pull me out of my bed by my feet) and shut my eyes as tightly as I could.  Even if I couldn't fall asleep, I was definitely going to look like I was asleep!
Many years later, I realized that the sound of the sandman was actually my own pulse in my ears.  LOL  
Uncle Al:  
I had a MAJOR problem with playing with car locks when I was little, especially when I was in my grandma's car with the automatic locks.  I loved those things!  Click click.  Click click.  Over and over...
Well this bad habit drove my grandma crazy!  I remember one time when we were traveling somewhere around Texas all by ourselves, she was in the front seat and I was in the back seat and she had specifically told me NOT to play with the locks.  Hmmm....  That just made me think about the locks in an almost obsessive way.  It was like having an itch that you can't scratch not being able to touch them.  I just put my hand over the lock at first.  "Don't you touch that," grandma said sternly.  Click click.  Click click.  Now my grandma's arm was sweeping the backseat, trying to catch me in the act.  So terrifying and exciting at the same time!  Click click.  Click click.  Her arms swung closer and closer.  Click click.  Click click.  Grandma slammed on the brakes and pulled me out of the car to swat my bottom on the side of the road.  You would think that I would learn, but no...  So this brought on the Uncle Al Story....
One day, while my grandfather was driving the cousins home from their grandparents, Uncle Al was playing with the door.  Well, he had unlatched the door but didn't realize it.  When grandpa turned a corner, Al's  door flew open and Al  began to fall out.  Grandpa grabbed his foot and help on or else Al would have fallen out of the car.  When grandpa finally was able to stop the car completely, he pulled Al in and his head was full of rocks (literally).
I can't say that I never played with locks again, but I can tell you that that story made me cut waaaaaay back.

Well, I am proud  to say that I have not told my children terrifying stories to keep them in line, but don't think for a minute that I haven't been tempted!!!!

Best Compliment EVER

I don't know about you, but I have been feeling every one of my 42 years lately.  :)  I am tired and sore for the most ridiculous reasons.  Yesterday a 5th grade boy (we will call him my favorite) told me that I am really good with children.  That alone was a wonderful compliment and it was very touching.  :)  I told him that I have three children of my own so I have had a lot of practice.  He gave me an odd look and then went to class.
Today, when I went into the cafeteria today, "my favorite" asked me how I have three children.  I asked him what he meant and he said that he thought I was 25 and that that was too young for three children.  It's one thing when a kindergartener thinks you are 19, but another thing when a 5th grader thinks you are 25.  And that, my blogging friends, is why today was a FABULOUS day!  :)